The wheels on the bus...

The wind chill in the city was zero this morning as I ran to catch my bus. The wind cut through all five layers of clothing making me feel naked on the street. Once warm on the bus I faced the sun and closed my eyes. I remembered my vacation in Costa Rica a few years ago. I exhaled the stress of running late and freezing. I snuggled between two strangers and tried to relax on the way to work.
It is an unexpected pleasure ridding the bus in the morning. As unexpected as replacing a lost passport on vacation. To loose the passport I hiked to a tiny nude beach over a small cliff. The tide was low in the morning and getting to the beach was easy. A few hours later I had made friends with a couple and the fully stocked bar in their picnic basket. When I was ready to go back to the hotel the man suggested I stay a while longer. I thought he meant to stay naked with him for a while. Really he was telling me that it was high tide and getting over the cliff would be dangerous. Maybe it was the language barrier or the cocktails but I headed over the cliff.
I realized I had not worn the best shoes for such a hike. The waves in Costa Rica are violent and crashed into the side of the cliff with Godlike force. I had climbed as high and far up as I could to get around but the waves slammed me. My Vibrum soled clog lost its hold and I went down in the wave. The wave took my bag, hat, shoes and glasses. Strangers pulled me and my belongings from the water. Everything but my wallet and passport.
One of the helpful strangers said “You should not be mountain climbing in high heels.” He was making fun of my clogs. “That will be funny one day” I said.
To replace my passport I had to fly to the American Embassy via the only airline from the beach to the city. I walked across a field to an aircraft the size of a car with magnetic signs on the doors.
It was an unexpected trip that afternoon. The spectacular views of the country made it worth all the fuss. The views at the beach weren’t bad either. Remembering the trip warmed me on the bus today and reminded me to welcome the unexpected.

"Who's y'er Daddy?"

My new favorite quote is from the movie Short bus. It is “I used to want to change the world, but now I just want to leave the room with a little dignity.” In a way it sounds like giving up. It could also mean too pick your battles carefully to ensure a dignified exit.
I have a new city, employer and life to entertain me with challenges. It seems the one creature I failed to prepare for this new life is the one most effected by it. My first night in the city with my dog required me leaving her at home alone. She barked nonstop until the doorman called us at dinner and asked us to return home. It was the first of many complaints from our new neighbors. They love us!
To make this work I called a personal dog trainer, a specialist in separation anxiety. My dog now has an aroma theropy pheromone diffuser and an ultrasonic anti-bark machine. She takes Prozac every day and a Valium every time I leave the house. It sounds extreme yet she still managed to paw at the front door until she set the deadbolt from inside. A lock I did not have a key to. I stood in the hall trying to open the door. I imagined my dog sitting on the sofa yelling at the door “Who’s got separation anxiety now Daddy!”
Once inside I have started to wonder if I’m doing the right thing for my dog. I’m fighting to make this work for both of us. Have I picked the right battle? I’m not trying to change the world, just a dog. I only want to change her enough so that I can leave the house with a little dignity.
One of us needs the pills. This might go on for six months I’m told. We will both need rehab if this goes on that long. The neighbors are ready for this to be over. Truthfully, I am too. I have tried not to let this situation become my world so I went to see a movie that begins with autofellatio. A nice distraction but my world was waiting at the door when I got home.