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A Running Commentary: Broken

http://pseudonym.blogspot.com/2015/04/broken.html

I don't want to do this," I sobbed, more to myself than to anyone else, as I stood in the small room. There was a blanket on the floor and an exam table to my right. My mom sat in a chair in the corner and my dog sat at my feet, more than likely wondering what all the fuss was about. The time had come. He used to roll around on the floor and kick his legs in the air. I hadn't seen him do that in over a week, and he would no longer come when I called for him. I loved that dog with all of my heart and a fe...

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A Running Commentary: Dear Bobbie,

http://pseudonym.blogspot.com/2014/09/dear-bobbie.html

It is nearly 4 am and I am drunk. Do you not realize how badly I need poutine at this very second? Surely that warrants poutine. I don't like you anymore. I LOVE THIS. Its real and powerful. Check out my blog I think we have similar tastes. Keep up the work, good friend. Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom). View my complete profile. A Melodrama Of Manners. Broken Images, All Alike. Tales from The Great White North. The Adventures of Accordion Guy in the 21st Century. Follow me on Twitter.

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A Running Commentary: Because that is the least I can do

http://pseudonym.blogspot.com/2014/07/because-that-is-least-i-can-do.html

Because that is the least I can do. I sat there, watching as my mother spoon fed him strawberry ice cream, wondering how aware of his surroundings he actually was. My grandfather had fallen a little over a week earlier and sustained a nasty black eye, a cut to his forehead and a broken right hip. He'd spoken very little since the accident, and, even before that, he'd been displaying signs of confusion. As my grandfather began to doze, we decided it was time to take leave. I bent down, kissed his fore...

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A Running Commentary: My best friend

http://pseudonym.blogspot.com/2015/03/my-best-friend.html

As I jogged at a leisurely pace on the treadmill, I looked over to my dog on the couch and squinted my eyes in an attempt to see if I could tell he was still breathing. As I stared at him, determining that he was in fact still very much alive, I tried to think back to some of the more memorable moments we've shared over the last decade. He is my best friend, and he is the only friend I have that has shit on my floor and faced absolutely zero consequences afterwards. I hope my dog knows how much I love hi...

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A Running Commentary: Sitcoms.

http://pseudonym.blogspot.com/2014/04/sitcoms.html

Late, in the quiet of the night, it haunts me. Show me that smile again. Don't waste another minute on your crying. I can't escape it. Try as I might, the second my eyes close it starts. We're nowhere near the end. I toss and turn, hoping it will just go away. The best is waiting to begin. But it doesn't. I find no refuge in the darkness of my bedroom. As long as we've got each other, we've got the world spinning right in our hands. The Growing Pains theme song. Baby, you and me. We gotta be.

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A Running Commentary: April 2015

http://pseudonym.blogspot.com/2015_04_01_archive.html

I miss my dog. I'm sad without my dog. That's the only way to really describe it. I'm not depressed. I'm not despondent. I'm just sad. I'm melancholy. I know that, with time, my sadness will ease, but right now it feels like a defining characteristic. "My name is Megan," I want to say, "and I am sad.". I don't think my dog ever had a particularly impressive grasp of the English language either, but that never stopped me from talking to him. Links to this post. The time had come. His heart stopped within ...

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A Running Commentary

http://pseudonym.blogspot.com/2015/03/my-hands-on-steering-wheel-at-ten-and.html

My hands on the steering wheel, at ten and two, as I make my way down the highway, going a few clicks faster than I probably should be. Watching the road ahead of me, I feel a slight pressure on the sleeve of my shirt. Looking down to my right, I see a paw gently resting on my forearm. I glance up at its owner to see him staring at me in what can only be described as hopeful adoration. You're such a dweeb," I tell him, taking my right hand from the wheel and rubbing his head affectionately.

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A Running Commentary: It'll come to me

http://pseudonym.blogspot.com/2015/07/itll-come-to-me.html

It'll come to me. I can't find my smile, Internet. It disappeared a few months ago, when I said goodbye to my dog friend, and I haven't been able to locate it since. Sure, there are fleeting moments when I think I see it off in the distance somewhere, but I just can't quite manage to catch it. I've been thinking about it a lot lately. How to get my smile back. What is it that makes me happy? What do I love doing? What do I love in general? And who do I love? Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom).

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A Running Commentary: May 2015

http://pseudonym.blogspot.com/2015_05_01_archive.html

Oh, are you looking to do assisted pull-ups? The sales representative at the fitness store asked me. Yes," I told him. "Right now I can do zero pull-ups, and I would really like to be able to do one pull-up," I explained. I've had the goal of being able to do one pull-up for half a year now. I figure it is time that I finally do something about it. Well, something other than just buying a pull-up/dip station that is now primarily used to hang bras to dry. Links to this post. Subscribe to: Posts (Atom).