I wish I could erase the past two weeks. Alan’s beautiful Remi was healthy and active, especially for a dog of 12 years. He came into my life four years ago. We were together nearly every hour since, through the pandemic and several moves. Those years were challenging for me personally, and he helped me cope when I was struggling, which was often. I loved going on adventures with him. I loved taking care of him. I love him.
But the day after our last 6 mile hike, I gave him Frontline Plus per the directions. Two days later, Remi stopped voluntarily eating, and his muscles stiffened to the point he could barely walk. The next week was desperate attempts to diagnose, to feed, to comfort. The final hours, of trying to raise his body temperature and then rush to the hospital as my beloved Alan administered rescue breathing and CPR in the back of the Jeep, are hours I hope to never endure again. They are hours I nonetheless cannot stop reliving in my mind.
As I reflect on Remi’s life and my culpability in its end, I am only comforted that he was always a happy dog, and as far as I could tell was not in any pain through his last moments, when I am sure he heard Alan and me both telling him we love him.
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Two Saturdays ago, May 27, Alan and I welcomed Ruffie the husky into our home. He is a 2.5 year old pup who had been at the Oakland Animal Services shelter since early February. While his first days here were a little chaotic even under constant supervision, he is generally pretty well behaved and is even starting to get along with one of our cats, Kiko.
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After returning January 4 from visiting family in Milwaukee for Christmas, I moved to a new apartment to live with my friend Yida and two others. The first months have flown by, and already one roommate moved out to return to Taiwan. I figured it is about time I post a few photos, though of course improving everything is an eternal process.
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Another year passed too quickly, leaving behind good intentions and hopes and dreams. I am starting to understand all I can reasonably hope for in a year is a slightly greater fraction of my hopes will be realized. But I know one day this hope too will fail me. I hope in the meantime I can build the strength and wisdom to weather the storm.
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After returning from Denver, I worked like a mad man, racking up 85 hours within a week in an attempt to launch a poorly managed project. That ended up being my last week working for 601am, finally allowing me to start the next chapter of my life.
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As I neared my home, I spotted another man on the sidewalk ahead. There were no street lights nearby, but I could tell he was middle aged and substantial. The fear crept back, but this time it wasn't a safety fear, but rather a social fear. It was just the two of us. I was determined in my pace, but I also felt drawn to the man's eyes as I approached.
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Tim shared with me a post from the blog Nao, which comments on the conflict between China’s working class and the state. The post offers English translations of some of Foxconn laborer Xu Lizhi’s poetry and of his obituary in Shenzhen Evening News. That’s right, Xu is dead, having survived 24 years before taking his life. He followed in the steps of many others, and certainly won’t be the last to do so.
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I began to study Japanese around 3 p.m. Somehow it is now 3 a.m., and I have barely made any progress on that front. But my mind has been busy nonetheless. The NeoPixels with which I’ve lined my walls along with amazing experimental music (today, newly discovered Ludique) transport my mind and emotions to another world. I highly recommend it.
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In early February, I decided to buy some tickets for that impossible to fully describe event called Burning Man. Despite prevaling wisdom, I actually think I had a pretty good idea what I was in for. I knew it is a city that rises on an ancient lakebed within a week and then in even less time diseappears entirely. I knew it is about acceptance and free expression. I knew it is not for the feeble.
What I did not know was how being freer than I ever have been would change me. Realizations, new experiences, new friends. It was undoubtedly the most awesome adventure of my life, even though I know I barely scratched the surface my first year. You really do need to experience it, though hopefully writing about it can help me better live it every day.
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Once again, I apologize deeply for the lack of journal-writing that has been becoming a habit of mine.
The past two weeks have been amazing, and I really wish I had been writing in this more often. This week is my coming out week. The following is a letter that …
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