Single Girl in the City

 I know that single people live in big cities all over the world and don’t congratulate themselves after spending a week alone in country, but I’m not one of those people. Max had his first training last week back in DC and I’m glad to report that no houses were burned down, much Project Runway was watched, and a many things were caught up on.   

The things that were good

 As previously mentioned, I watched a lot of Project Runway. After catching up on the latest season I flung open the doors to my closet and said “This has to stop.” What has to stop? Keeping things I don’t love for ANY reason and having so much dang stuff. I purge fairly regularly but still hold on to things that I could look cool or that I used to like or that I might need to wear when we go to the dessert/Saudi Arabia/ community garden/opera/mountains…you get the idea. I read a few articles online about minimalist closets and I’m very pleased to say that after a few “fashion show at lunch” evenings my closet almost fits that profile. There is something really awesome about choosing from one of your 8 tops and knowing that each one is fabulous. …then I did some shopping. But not too much!

Going it alone. I am an alone kind of gal – I like social things and humanity in general, but for every chunk of time I spend being with other people I need an equal chunk of time not being with people. One to one is kind of a ridiculous ratio, but you do what works people. I always get tricked into hanging out with Max when he’s around because…duh, I like him and he’s fun, but it was nice to come home to an empty house and ask myself what the heck I was going to do for the next 5 hours.  I drew a lot, painted, cooked things that were delicious but not healthy and then ate them, and finished about 4 books.  I’m pretty serious when I say that I will take a job on the cleaning crew just to be able to stick around in the future event that we are evacuated from post and only “necessary” staff are allowed to stay, but the truth is we will probably be separated at several junctures for undetermined amounts of time. It was good to have a mini test run.

The things that were lame

I had big plans of making organic feasts every night but I mostly survived on strawberries, brownies, and grilled chicken breasts. I know, am I a college freshman?

My dogtastrophy. The plan was for me to keep the puppy a few days after Max left and then have him go stay with the puppy whisperer and his enormous German shepherd for the rest of the week. The puppy needed to start making friends and I was really unsure of my ability to play with and discipline and feed and clean and walk and pee a tiny yet to be potty trained dog by my lonesome. Remember, I don’t come from dog people.

I was feeling pretty confidant the first night after Max left, making creamy chickpea soup from a new recipe and pulling out my watercolors, but the dog was fussy from a long day at home and things went downhill the minute after he ate his chow. He was bitey and yippy and my creamy chickpea soup turned into a chunky bowl of tahini flavored yuck. A short training session was met with wiggles and naughtiness (adorable naughtiness) and grooming his shaggy locks went much the same way. While I was laying on my back, trying to regroup from being bested by a 4 kilo dog, Buckley ate a little corner of his eye wipes. I don’t know if it was the late hour or the bowl of chunky yuck sitting a little funny, but I became convinced that it was poison and he was going to die. I called the after hours vet number in a panic but he couldn’t quite understand my English and I couldn’t quite understand his French so he had me call his wife at the supermarket and explain to her in a mix of English and French that my tiny dog just ate a part of an eye wipe and is it going to block his intestines and/or poison him and will he die? Max’s first day away and I had killed our dog! The end of the story is that the dog was fine and I resisted the urge to drive to the doggy hospital for a miniature body scan. I did, however, call the dog whisperer to have him take the dog the next day.  Even though I spent the rest of the week saying “I’ve abandoned my boy!” in Daniel Day Lewis’ accent from There Will Be Blood and hearing phantom doggy yelps, he came home happy at the end of the week and I had a quiet week to recharge.