How Long Does "Good-Bye" Take?

It's been two months since I "broke-up" with my best friend. I just couldn't do anything right anymore. Except walk his dog, (although he may have had some suggestions on that front as well).

I thought I'd be friends with that guy for the rest of my life. And I was happy about it.

We would take his dog Boomer to the beach and end up talking and talking while Boomer chased the ball.

We would carve on our Trikkes together and he would wait for me. His fitness level increased so that it was too slow for him to hang back with me. He was like that, sort of ahead of me in everything.

When we started the Trikke magazine it was his vision that glued the details together, although the mag was my idea. It was his writing skills that made it a success, his designs, his content, his photos, his experience as a high school newspaper editor.

There isn't much room for teamwork with a perfectionist as they are the only ones who can do it right. And so things fell apart.

I wasn't the writer he thought, from reading this blog. Articles I turned in were always a "good first draft." My photos were never clear enough, my designs were not hip. I was negative, dark, too self deprecating. I didn't work hard enough, long enough.

When I excelled in marketing he pulled me from the project, saying my focus should be with the mag. I stalled.

After about a year of scrutiny under a very watchful eye and sharp tongue, I broke. I left the magazine, I left a future and I left my best friend. I did it for me.

Of course it doesn't feel good. I know it should. Maybe on my deathbed I'll feel victorious. Right now I feel like a huge loser. Where is the victory in that?

How long before I can forget and move on? How long before I can say good-bye for good?

How long does good-bye take?

Workin' for the CBC!

In another life I volunteered to do some work for the California Bicycle Coalition, at a fundraiser for the Bikestation, way back in June of this year. And now it is time to step up.

I will be authoring their annual fundraiser, for lack of better word choices. Or, I will be putting together their online auction to run with their annual bike summit next month in Los Angeles.

This project has come just in time to save me from myself and an everlasting ennui stemming from too much time on my hands. I can only knock myself out on my Trikke so many times a week. And that I do.

The CBC is an advocacy group for bicyclists, by bicyclists, that helps educate and inform about bike safety issues facing bikers. They interface with CalTrans, write legislation and communicate with lawmakers in California, as well. Among other things... they were proponents of the 3-foot law in which cars must allow at least three feet in passing a bike on the street.

As a Trikker, I can ride in their wake. I use the same streets, abide by the same laws. We are a good team we Trikkers and bikers. Eventually everyone will agree.

Saying Good-Bye

I never thought I'd use that pic to say good-bye with, but I have officially left the Trikke world behind. I have closed my facebook account and said the good-byes that I needed to say. So it is now over.

It was a good world to be a part of for a while, but I guess I'm not a joiner or a group person. Never have been. I tried for a while, but it just didn't fit. 

So I'm where I was a year ago. All I lost was some time and my best friend who I guess really wasn't. Good-bye Trikke world and all its inhabitants. 

Why does that sound like "good-bye cruel world?" to me?  It isn't...

Fire and Ice

his weather changed like mercury.
his clouds form and darken, then
sun breaks through.
the heat of his ore
the cold of his ice
smelted and sculpted
me down
until
a splinter
of myself
is left.

The Jake Update

My old man kitty Jake, (14+ years) fell off my fifth floor balcony last week. It is true that cats are not as sure-footed as most think. They can be downright clumsy. Yet, that is not the slant I want to take with this post.

From what I heard, the manager heard a loud thump. She went out to see what it was and found an injured cat. White with grey on his head. Not knowing what else to do she called animal control. When they arrived 45 minutes later and picked him up, his bowels emptied. (No shit!)

The opinion was he was going off to be put down. That is what I was told when calling after not being able to find him in my apartment. I thought he might have been lost in the building.

It was one of those rough nights of the soul with little sleep to escape with. Next morning with a call to the Humane Society, I found Jake was still alive and ready for pick-up. WOW!

He was in bad shape. Falling five flights is like being hit at 25 mph. His back legs swayed back and forth as he walked. He whimpered for two days. I got him to the vet on Friday and was told if he's not better by Monday I should put him down. He got pain meds.

A cat on pain meds is a sloppy thing. They become very wobbly and their eyes are drunken. On Sunday he was visibly better. He didn't need meds that day. He started eating again and talking to me. I sat with him and held him (when he was ready) for five days.

I remember the doctor telling me Jake has a bigger problem, which is probably why he fell.
But today he is much better. It's been eight days now. I am so reminded time heals all wounds. And yet it seems so long when one is entangled in the minutes.