Tuesday, August 28, 2012


I walk a French bulldog named Rex.  He's completely awesome.  Except for the fact that he's a complete asshole.  Sort of like the third guy I went out with after breaking up with the ex.  Completely awesome.  Complete douchebag.   Rex the dog is adorable in a ridiculous way.  Kind of that whole "so ugly he's cute" sort of way.  I don't know if I'd go so far to say Rex the guy is like that but physically he's a little shorter than I'd prefer both in height and in, well, you know.  He's still ridiculously attractive in a strange way though...  Rex the dog has the capacity to be super snuggly, lovey and fantastic to spend time with.  BUT...if he's cranky or just not inclined to be decent, he can literally bite you in the ass.  Rex the guy will give you the most amazing first date you've ever had, make you feel as though you have an unparalleled connection and then after a screwy little mis-step on the second date, give you a blow off that rivals all blow offs.  And to think-you gave that bastard the best belly rub of his life.

Begin again.

A conversation between me and Dixie- a good friend from graduate school who is also originally from the Midwest. 

Dixie: "Yesterday was my last day at the coffee shop in South Dakota."

Me: "Oh yeah?"  

Dixie: "Yeah, all the kids were asking me why I was quitting. (Laughing)  I told them I was 29 years old and just got my Masters degree.  I can't keep working at a coffee shop!"

Me:  (Looking at the dogs I was walking)  "You know I'm a dog walker, right?"

But those are the facts.  I'm 31.  Divorced as of a week ago.  Transient for the last ten months.   Working for a dog walking company just like I did six years ago.  


This wasn't what I planned!  Are you kidding me?  If you'd told me that after getting my coveted MFA  I'd be back in Minnesota, spending eight months getting divorced, living six of those months in my childhood home and unable to get an interview, let alone a job-I'd have punched you in the throat.  No, really.  I would have.  

WHAT.THE.FUCK.  This is so not what I imagined.  

I got married with the intention of staying married.  Getting my Masters with my brand new husband in Hawaii was meant to be an amazing adventure, a three year long honeymoon, and a great story to tell.  I didn't realize I'd wind up with more stories than I could imagine-but didn't really want to tell. 

Now though?  I have to.  Maybe not with the intention of purging, or clearing the mess of the last three years but with the hope that someone out there will relate to some of my stories, some of the feelings, some of the live I've lived lately. 

So this?  This is about a dog walker/actress/writer/teacher/yogi who is beginning again.  Finding her footing as a single 30-something, and along the way walking a buttload of dogs.