So a few months ago, there were flyers EVERYWHERE for a missing cat named Dusty, replete with description and color photo. Kelly and I put ourselves on a relentless quest, interrogating various stray cats and checking under cars at the flick of a fluffy tail. At first, the reward was a measly $100, but it grew to $500, and then $1000. In our semi-unemployed state, we thought it might be a good idea to take up professional "lost pet" hunting. Alas, weeks passed, it rained a couple of times, the wind blew, leaves turned, children grew up and moved away, something about a cat (not Dusty!!!) in the cradle and a silver spoon, and the "Lost Cat" posters disappeared.
Well, I was traipsing down Argonne the other day, and saw the tell-tale flick of the grey fluffy tail under a red Jeep. For kicks, and mostly out of habit, I crossed over and peeked under the Jeep. Sure enough, a rather sickly-looking semblance of Dusty appeared and implored me to help it find its rightful home. It was clearly sick...some sort of goo was oozing from one eye, his back left paw was broken, and he was just generally quite mangy. What to do!!! I happen to have a cat-bag in my car, and I thought about going to get it, but then I'd be stuck with this dilapidated cat for who knows how long. He was so pitiful I wanted to drive him to a vet right away and get his various injuries tended to, and I don't even like cats!
Instead, I set out on a quest to find his owner's posters. These posters proved quite elusive; as mentioned before, the passage of time had borne nakedness to the telephone and light posts. I did, finally, about 8 blocks later, find one tape-strip that had the bottom half of the phone number on it. SCORE! I rushed home to find my math-oriented roomie who could help me decipher its meaning...after all, $1000 was hanging in the balance!!!
Every possible combination for the number was written out, and I started calling. Mostly I got voicemails.
"Hi, my name is Sarah, and I might have the wrong number, but I was wondering if you are missing a cat named Dusty? If this is the correct number, and you're STILL missing your cat, please call me back at 555-5555, as I think I just saw him on Argonne and First. Thanks! Bye!"
A few people answered, and one lady even went next door to her neighbor's house because her neighbor was missing a cat (alas, that cat's name was "Miko," and there was no mention of a reward...).
With determination, I persevered. About 17 calls later, VICTORY!!!
Me: "Hi, my name is Sarah, and I might have the wrong number, but are you missing a cat named Dusty?"
Lady who answered: "Why, I'm Dusty's owner! You've got the right number! But he's not missing any more."
Me: "Are you sure he's not missing? I think I saw him..."
Lady: "I'm really sure he's not missing; he's sitting on my lap!"
Me: "Oh, well, I'm glad he made it back."
Lady: "Thank you! And I do so dearly appreciate all the concern and help from people like you...it means a lot to me."
Me: "Yeah yeah. I was really just after the cash...." (I didn't really say that. I said something else that was a lot nicer. But I was THINKING it...)
Well, it's over. My career as a professional pet-finder has ended. Owners will continue to wonder and worry, various pets will wander and frolic. I will keep my day job.
Except, walking up for a coffee yesterday, I saw a flyer for a mini-pincher named "Bubba....."
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
"We're all of us alone anyway"
There are few concepts I have encountered in various ways that I have rebelled at ferociously. For one, I still can't get this pre-destination/omniscience of God. Or why people still prefer Myspace over Facebook. Or why almonds and chocolate are a very special gift from God. Or how anything past algebra works and who the heck invented all that crap anyway?!?! When a very dear friend told me I was in control of all my emotions, I fought him so passionately, until I realized he's right. I'm ok with everything else being a mystery, though. Except one other concept: "We're all of us alone."
As many of you are probably at least semi-aware, I loooooove P.S. I Love You. I think that by the time it left the dollar theatre, I had spent a whopping $8 on that movie (and probably triple that in gas!)...you can only do the math to figure out just how much I love it. But towards the end, Holly (Hillary Swank's character) finally realizes that her husband is really dead and really gone forever. She freaks out about it a little, and cries to her mom who replies, "Well, we're all of us alone."
Ever since, I've been milling the concept around in my mind. Is it true? If it is, it's terribly depressing. What a worthless existence if we're all just all alone all the time, no matter what or who. But it must be true to a certain extent, because I'm the only one to experience what I've experienced, just as you are the only one to have your experiences by nature of existence itself, so of course we're all alone in our own experiences.
But still, why is this quote still so depressing? I sit here on my futon in my apartment, having been "alone" since about 4:15 this afternoon when I left work. My apartment building has 10 total units, and all but two (mine and Kelly's) are single-tenant only. And from my excellent "monitoring" skills, I know that many of my neighbors spend their evenings inside their apartments, alone. Alone in their experiences and alone in the more pragmatic sense. The thing is, I would love to get to know them. I'd love to have them over for a beer, for a piece of this tasty Cinnamon Butter Bread I just made. Across history and culture, humans are inherently social creatures. We need contact with other people...hence the reason solitary confinement causes insanity and that the family-unit structure has remained intact.
You see, there is something in me that tells me I'm not quite as alive if I'm by myself for long periods of time. It becomes depressing...like I'm only living to work. I go to school, am surrounded by hundreds of people I don't know and who don't know me, and then I leave and do my "thing," until I wake up again and do it all over. It's funny, because I actually saw plenty of people on my post-work run and have been chatting on IM and leaving Facebook messages. I'm listening to Third Eye Blind, and was recently watching a new facet of my family/friends base, Beverly Hills 90210. So why do I still feel alone?
It's thoughts like these that have finally helped me "label" myself. All through college, waaaaay back when I was still a DCE major, it was all about the What Color Are You? and the Myers-Briggs and the What Animal Are You? and the Introvert or Extrovert? tests. And as in our last presidential election, just over half the opinion swayed red and the rest blue...leaving one very confused and unhappy nation of me. One particular bone of contention was intro- or extro- vert? Finally realizing that I really do need to be around people has helped, but also completely freaked me out, because of how often I feel alone. What am I ever going to do in the Peace Corps where not only do I not know anyone or speak the language, but I won't even understand the process of buying a bus pass? Aside from having to take cold/lukewarm/low/no-pressure showers, loneliness is my biggest fear about taking off for two years. If I feel lonely here where I DO speak the language and I have all my people at least within a phone's reach, how will I combat that loneliness?
In order to reconcile this terrible concept, this isolation intrinsic in being alone all the time despite being surrounded by people and their lives, I'm realizing that though I'm alone in experiences and that pragmatically I even feel lonely, I'm never actually alone. I'm built by all the interactions I've had. I'm shaped by my experience with humanity, both good and bad. There is always something new someone will teach me based on their own alone-ness of experiences. And we will all continue to build each other always.
After Holly's mom makes the comment that we're always alone, she adds that "even if we're all alone, then we're together in that, too." It's because of each other that we're not alone and it's because of each other that we're who we are. Loneliness will come and go, but the experience of being me will always be flavored with you, my dearest friends and family, and that's something I can take with me anywhere.
As many of you are probably at least semi-aware, I loooooove P.S. I Love You. I think that by the time it left the dollar theatre, I had spent a whopping $8 on that movie (and probably triple that in gas!)...you can only do the math to figure out just how much I love it. But towards the end, Holly (Hillary Swank's character) finally realizes that her husband is really dead and really gone forever. She freaks out about it a little, and cries to her mom who replies, "Well, we're all of us alone."
Ever since, I've been milling the concept around in my mind. Is it true? If it is, it's terribly depressing. What a worthless existence if we're all just all alone all the time, no matter what or who. But it must be true to a certain extent, because I'm the only one to experience what I've experienced, just as you are the only one to have your experiences by nature of existence itself, so of course we're all alone in our own experiences.
But still, why is this quote still so depressing? I sit here on my futon in my apartment, having been "alone" since about 4:15 this afternoon when I left work. My apartment building has 10 total units, and all but two (mine and Kelly's) are single-tenant only. And from my excellent "monitoring" skills, I know that many of my neighbors spend their evenings inside their apartments, alone. Alone in their experiences and alone in the more pragmatic sense. The thing is, I would love to get to know them. I'd love to have them over for a beer, for a piece of this tasty Cinnamon Butter Bread I just made. Across history and culture, humans are inherently social creatures. We need contact with other people...hence the reason solitary confinement causes insanity and that the family-unit structure has remained intact.
You see, there is something in me that tells me I'm not quite as alive if I'm by myself for long periods of time. It becomes depressing...like I'm only living to work. I go to school, am surrounded by hundreds of people I don't know and who don't know me, and then I leave and do my "thing," until I wake up again and do it all over. It's funny, because I actually saw plenty of people on my post-work run and have been chatting on IM and leaving Facebook messages. I'm listening to Third Eye Blind, and was recently watching a new facet of my family/friends base, Beverly Hills 90210. So why do I still feel alone?
It's thoughts like these that have finally helped me "label" myself. All through college, waaaaay back when I was still a DCE major, it was all about the What Color Are You? and the Myers-Briggs and the What Animal Are You? and the Introvert or Extrovert? tests. And as in our last presidential election, just over half the opinion swayed red and the rest blue...leaving one very confused and unhappy nation of me. One particular bone of contention was intro- or extro- vert? Finally realizing that I really do need to be around people has helped, but also completely freaked me out, because of how often I feel alone. What am I ever going to do in the Peace Corps where not only do I not know anyone or speak the language, but I won't even understand the process of buying a bus pass? Aside from having to take cold/lukewarm/low/no-pressure showers, loneliness is my biggest fear about taking off for two years. If I feel lonely here where I DO speak the language and I have all my people at least within a phone's reach, how will I combat that loneliness?
In order to reconcile this terrible concept, this isolation intrinsic in being alone all the time despite being surrounded by people and their lives, I'm realizing that though I'm alone in experiences and that pragmatically I even feel lonely, I'm never actually alone. I'm built by all the interactions I've had. I'm shaped by my experience with humanity, both good and bad. There is always something new someone will teach me based on their own alone-ness of experiences. And we will all continue to build each other always.
After Holly's mom makes the comment that we're always alone, she adds that "even if we're all alone, then we're together in that, too." It's because of each other that we're not alone and it's because of each other that we're who we are. Loneliness will come and go, but the experience of being me will always be flavored with you, my dearest friends and family, and that's something I can take with me anywhere.
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