A Lonely Wind Blows Tonight

It’s been months since my last post. No point in rehashing months, so I’ll start with the today and now.

There’s no reason why today should feel more lonely than any other day, why the warm Chinook wind blowing down the street outside my window should make me feel more hollow than I’ve ever felt in my life. It seems impossible that not too long ago I enjoyed being home alone. Whenever my mom came home she’d always find something she needed me to be doing, but when she was gone I could play video games, or just relax and enjoy the sound of the wind.

But right now the sound of the wind is only making me feel empty inside. It’s Jane’s fault, her and her stupid large family, with aunts and uncles and grandparents and an army of kids. Even Xena’s little rat-dog presence at my feet doesn’t put a dent in my loneliness. I can’t stand it anymore.

“Xena.” I call, grabbing the leash hanging on the coat hook. Xena’s ears perk up but she doesn’t move from her position on the floor. Lazy dog.

“Xena!” I call again, gathering up my cell phone and earphones. Xena sets her tiny head down between her front paws. I walked her today already, but aren’t dogs supposed to LOVE going for walks? I grab my coat and shove my feet into my runners.

“Stay here then.” I mumble, opening the front door. Xena trots over and sits down beside me, staring up at me with her big ugly Chiuaua eyes. Apparently the threat of being left home alone is a greater evil for her than taking another walk. To her credit Xena has some kind of hip problem that acts up when the weather is bad, when it rains or snows or the wind blows, or there’s a full moon, I don’t know, I’m not old enough to understand hip problems. I attach Xena’s leash to her collar but pick her up in my arms anyway, adjusting her under one arm like a spoiled diva in a high school teen movie for rich L.A. girls. I press play on my phone and slip it into my pocket. Tonight Xena is walking me.

I step out into the wind and Xena shivers. It isn’t cold, Xena is just a drama queen. My mind keeps going back to the night Jane’s family was having that big family reunion and we played “Village” and all the kids thought I was the greatest thing that ever happened to them. They’re all gone now, not dead gone, like in a tragic house fire or something, but just gone home to their busy, lively homes with shouting and laughing and whatever happens in homes that aren’t lonely.

I look into the windows of the houses on my street. It’s still too early for anyone to be asleep for the night, yet most of the lights are off. I imagine they’re not home because they’re off with friends to see a movie, attend a girly sleep over or a fun video game night. What do guys do on a ‘guy’s night out’ anyway?

I shuffle through the songs on my phone but none of them seem appropriate for my lonely mood so I just stop the music and pull out my earphones letting the wind sing the perfect song of melancholy.

I hadn’t planned to go to Jane’s house and probably wouldn’t have even noticed I was passing by if Hasselhoff Huskey hadn’t barked, scaring Xena stiff in my arms.

I look up at Jane’s house which is dark like the rest of the street, except for a light farther in, like someone has left a bathroom light on. I stop, to Xena’s dismay, and stand in front of Jane’s house, letting Hasselhoff Huskey’s deep barks cut through the sad sounds of the wind in the trees.

Suddenly the front door swings open, startling an swear out of my mouth, which fortunately gets snatched away on the rush of an oncoming wind.

Jane looks different tonight. Her hair messy and eyes watery. No one else comes to the door as I would expect, her dad coming to yell at me for just standing there and provoking the dog, her mom inviting me in for cookies with her thick accent, or Jane’s little sister exclaiming, “You came to play Barbies!” They don’t come, it’s just Jane, standing in bare feet on the front step, in jeans and a goodie.

She doesn’t ask me why I’m just standing here or why I came, she just breathes. I recognize that breathing, it’s the kind you do after a good cry. Hasselhoff Husky has stopped barking and Xena has stopped shaking. The wind has taken a moment’s pause and all that is left is Jane’s breathing and my desperation for human contact.

“Can I come in?” I ask. Jane doesn’t say anything but simply steps aside. I climb up the stairs, Xena in hand, my heart pounding wildly. If she realizes how badly I need her right now I’ll lose her forever. She’ll stop talking to me, shut her blinds and unleash HasselHoff to bite Xena when we walk by. That’s how it always is with the opposite sex. You can’t let them know how much you need them, it only scares them away.

I stand awkwardly at the door a moment, then go inside and set Xena down. She starts shaking again, her legs getting knock kneed as she takes in the unfamiliar surroundings and smells. She looks up at me with pleading eyes.

“Go on.” I say, shoving her in further with my foot so Jane and I can have room to go in. I hear the door close behind me and turn to face Jane. Suddenly her arms are around me and she is crying. I’m too stunned to move. I should hug her back, but I’m frozen in place.

Jane lets go.

“Sorry,” she says, looking as uncomfortable as I usually feel in these types of circumstances. But for once I’m not the one feeling out of place and awkward. I smile to reassure her, then pull her back into a hug.

Last Night – Part One (on the outside looking in)

I’m walking down my street, the sun is setting, the flowers and grass breathe out their lovely scent. Xena is stopping to smell some other dog’s poop. My plan is to do a long walk tonight because its finally starting to make a difference, I’m lighter and less lazy than when I started this daily walking so I want to push myself a little tonight, to help set free the skinny me.

I realize that I’m in front of Jane’s house, usually I go the other direction. The poop on the grass is probably HasselHoff Huskey’s poop. Jane’s house is lively with activity tonight. There are a lot of rowdy adult voices resonating from within, speaking in a fast European-style dialect (the kind where people yell their words rather than say them). I suppose they have to yell to be heard over the folk music, which is playing much too loudly. Cars are parked and double parked on the driveway, right up to the sidewalk so I can’t walk with Xena but have to swerve out onto the road around a large van.

Something about the sounds of joyful merriment make the rest of the street look lonely and abandoned. Jane’s house stands like a shelter in the woods and I’m on the outside, alone in a dark forest of gloomy houses. I pick Xena up into my arms and stand there a while, trying to imagine what the party inside is like. I imagine a medieval Viking reunion, or a Lord of the Rings Dwarf celebration. I look at my cheap, LOTR ring on my finger, the one I bought at a garage sale a while back. It’s been doing a great job keeping me invisible. Suddenly I don’t feel like going for the long walk I had set out for, because I’m too tired. The dark street stretches out before me and behind me in the shadows sits my empty house, tall and brooding. My mom is out at a late movie tonight with friends (even she has friends). All I have is Xena, my mom’s ugly rat dog. Its been me and Xena all summer so far. But maybe that could change…

Today’s Post: A Wasteful Use of Blog Space

I know I always rag on Xena for being ugly and a poor excuse for a dog, but she’s actually not so bad. I was surprised at how protective I felt of her when HH (the big husky) attacked her.

I gave Xena a bath after the attack and I couldn’t find any bites or marks. So the blood wasn’t from her. I must have made HH bleed when I was kicking him in the face, oops.

Xena follows me everywhere like a side-kick, even when I go to the washroom, she sits outside the door and waits for me.

I was thinking of what I would write in a letter to Amy (the hot lady who had a garage sale I went to). I’d tell her she’s so gorgeous and she’s the female star of my sci-fi story. She would think that was sensitive and artistic of me.

Any advice from the ladies out there? Would that freak you out or flatter you if a stranger guy left you a note in your mailbox saying that he thinks you’re hot? (And the guy was a teenager)

I think Amy is older, maybe old enough to be a teacher or a mom (but way too hot to be a mom). I can’t tell though, she looks 25-ish maybe, but I can’t tell ages, young or old.

My mom once told me that when you’re in love you lose weight. I didn’t bother asking her what that says about married people (since they tend to gain weight rather than lose it). But I think she might be right, because whenever I think about Amy, which is every second, I feel this thing in my stomach and I can’t eat.
THANK YOU Amy! You are helping me fulfill one of my summer resolutions, to eat less. Maybe I’ll write that in my letter to her, Dear Amy, you make me love sick and unable to eat.


Murphy’s Law (Dog attack style)

I ran into Plain Jane today, not literally like last time. Today her blue eyes were open and she saw me coming with Xena (Mom’s little rat dog). She tried to change her course and cross the street, almost getting Hasselhoff Huskey (her Siberian Huskey) run over by a car.

I don’t know what it is about self-conscious people but they make me feel more confident about myself. Normally I would just avoid girls, but I said ‘hi’ to Jane. She looked nervous and too shy to talk, which makes me the brave one.
I was heading for Amy’s house, a bit of a long walk for Xena and me, but the anticipation of seeing Amy again (gardening in her peach tank top or tanning on the front lawn) was plenty motivation enough.

So anyway, while Jane and I were awkwardly “saying hi”, HH (Hasselhoff Huskey) was sniffing Xena. It seemed friendly enough, HH sniffing, Xena cowering away (her customary socializing skill). I was thinking of what to say to Jane and didn’t notice HH turn hostile until he was in full attack mode. I heard a high pitched yelping sound come out of Xena, unlike any sound I’ve ever heard come out of an animal before, I didn’t even know it was her at first.

It was all happening in slow motion. HH bearing his teeth, me lifting Xena off the ground by the leash to get her away from HH’s teeth, dangling her in the air (don’t tell my mom), me kicking HH in the face with my DC shoes so he wouldn’t jump up and bite Xena, but he wouldn’t lay off. When I realized I was “hanging” Xena I lowered her to the ground and HH went at her again. Jane wasn’t doing a great job of restraining her dog, she just froze up, but when she finally snapped out of her shock she got a hold of HH by the collar and held him back. I was hanging poor Xena by the leash again, without noticing it, then I took her into my arms and she was shaking like crazy.

Jane was apologizing but all I was thinking about was Xena and if she was okay, so I wasn’t really registering anything else. There was blood on her rat fur and I was worried about dog shock and dog heart attacks. You see, Mom bought Xena after dad left, for a lot of money, to fill some sort of emotional void I guess, and she’s loves this ugly dog, like a baby. I think she wanted to have another baby, one of the many things that she and dad never agreed on, including getting a dog, but now Mom’s never going to have a real baby and Xena’s all she’s got. So Xena, ulgy and all, is not just another dog.

But Xena is okay now. She finally stopped shaking at some point during our movie marathon this afternoon. I never did walk to Amy’s house, but that’s okay. I have something to look forward to next time we go for a walk.


Isn’t She Lovely… (Garage Sales in the Hot Sun)

I’ve never gone to a garage sale before. Really, its true.
Today I went for the first time. I was walking Xena in the morning and we came across a garage sale, or rather a YARD sale, that was being held by most beautiful woman in the world. She was wearing a peach coloured, tight fitting, thin fabric, spaghetti strap tank top, which sat just low enough to hint at a beautiful cleavage, full but not too weighty. I think she had shorts on maybe but my attention was fixed on the tank top so I can’t be sure of anything else.

I did look at her face (I’m not completely shallow), she has petite features like Amy Adams (the woman who plays Lois Lane in the Superman movie, Man of Steel) and similar long red (orange) hair pulled back in a pony tail, a nice high pony tail that makes you think she has a bubbly personality, like she regularly giggles or laughs with the pony-tail bouncing around, and other things bouncing… well, it was a perky pony tail which makes her seem positive and happy. I love that pony tail. Anyway, I don’t know her name but I’ve decided to call her Amy.

Amy was surounded by two snot-nosed children of indiscernible* age who, I’ve decided, are not actually her children, even though she had to attend to them during the garage sale, resulting in all manner of wonderful “leaning forward” displays of the lovely peach tank top. That image is permanently imbedded in my brain now. I couldn’t even eat supper because all I could think about was Amy and that peach tank top and I wasn’t even hungry.
Oh Amy

I came across 2 more garage sales and bought the following items:
-a Lord Of The Rings “One Ring” ring, just a cheap replica but its the coolest thing I own by far
-a bandana, which I intend to wear next time I’m at a rock concert
-a beat up hacky sack with an alien head on it, which I intend to keep until college to play with my future college buddies like they do in movies

I’m going to go work on my sci-fi story now, and I’m adding a new female main character, named Amy…


*my attempt to start using some big words to become a better writer

I’m A Pretty Scary Guy

I’m not being a very good guest blogger so far, I’ve been consumed with working on my sci-fi story that I’m writing. But I had to write an update blog about scaring Plain Jane, because I finally did it. So here I am with the update.

So anyway, Plain Jane was walking Hasselhoff Huskey (That’s what I’ve named her dog, because both words start with ‘H’ and it makes me laugh) they were walking by my living room window and I spilled my ice tea because Xena went crazy at the screen door, drawing their attention towards the house. I had to duck into Mom’s room so they wouldn’t see me.

Jane usually walks HH back the same way after about a half hour so I had time to get dressed and go hide behind one of the large trees out front. I left Xena inside and closed the front door so she wouldn’t start yapping and ruin my plan.

These type of plans always seem better in your head than when its time to implement them. Anyway, my plan worked well. I let HH walk passed first, he was eyeing me but didn’t stop, then I stepped out in front of Jane and she banged right into me, almost knocking me over. She opened her eyes (they’re blue like HH’s but not ice blue, more of a baby blue.) ANYWAY she was weirded out and all confused like, how could I possibly have run into someone while walking around with my eyes closed? Her cheeks turned red and it looked like she was going to cry or something. Then she ran off.

How’s that for a first introduction?
I didn’t think I was all that scary, but I guess running into me can be a horrifying event for some people.

Oh yeah, and I locked myself out of the house. All day. I lay on the trampoline, no food, no phone. I pretended there was a famine in the land, a natural disaster like a flash flood had taken my home and I was stranded, floating on a large piece of someone’s rooftop, just me and the wind. I got a sunburn, and Xena peed in the house again.

At night I felt good, the way I used to feel when we would go on summer vacations, spending the day at some lake, outside all day, then staying up late at night. We haven’t gone on a summer vacation since dad left. Anyway, I’ve been keeping my resolution to walk Xena and I actually feel like I’m losing weight too (but according to my mom’s bathroom scale I’m not)


Plain Jane

My Summer Resolutions:

-Walk the rat daily
-Help my mom with supper/dishes (sometimes)
-Join a club
-Lose body fat (whether I lose or gain weight)
-Find a hobby
-Eat less
-Scare Plain Jane

Who’s Plain Jane you ask?
Well, there’s another dog walker in the area who isn’t 80+ years old and I’ve decided to call her Plain Jane. She’s been walking past my house on the sidewalk, in front of my living room window in the mornings. I can’t tell how old she is because she likes to keep herself covered up with big baggy clothes and everything about her is kind of plain, nothing stands out.

If I was asked by a forensic sketch artist to describe her I would say “she was a girl, I think, with not-short but not-long hair, not brown hair but not blonde either, in a low ponytail. Of unknown build, hidden beneath baggy, non-brand-name clothes, so boring that I cannot recall the colour or style of them.”
There is one discriminating feature though, her awesome DOG! Its a Siberian Husky with ice-blue eyes, and a beautiful thick soft coat of fur, a strong and magnificent dog, everything a dog should be.

If I had that dog I would walk it proudly, head held high. Plain Jane sneaks around the neighbourhood with her amazing dog like its a crime. Sometimes she walks her dog with her eyes closed. What? Yes, with her eyes closed like she’s trying to let her dog lead her, so she’s bound to run into something, like a pedestrian. I’m going to hide behind a tree and then step out in front of her.  Then I will say “were you walking with your eyes closed?” It will teach her a lesson while entertaining me at the same time!
Her dog might attack me. But to die at the teeth of such a magnificent dog would be an honourable death indeed.