Society has phrases that invade everyone's speech patterns.

Some are obvious and gratuitous, mostly because they are so out of place in everyday conversations that they stand out. "Simmer Down!" and "That's what she said!" and "Who dat?" are a few of these obvious ones.

Others are obvious when they start and just fade into common speech patterns so that they become unnoticeable. "Like" is one of these, as in, 'And she was, like, "No, I'm not going to do that."' If you don't emphasize the "like," you likely won't notice it, especially if you aren't listening for it.

The most insidious of these speech patterns, however, are the ones that never obvious: they invade everyone's speech with very few people noticing it. Two years ago, the pattern "what it is is" was one of these. You could listen to someone switch from saying "It is this" to "What it is is this." This pattern invaded the entire cultural spectrum in the United States. I heard it from educated elderly woman and punk-ass kids, from well off to not so well off, and all sorts of ethnic groups (trains and airports and buses are great places to cross socio-economic barriers), and I heard "what it is is" in all of them.

I used "what it is is" until Kris pointed out I was saying it, and then we both pointed the pattern out to other people, usually causing it to stop in the people we informed. The pattern, like most patterns started to fade. I don't hear it very much these days.

What I hear, instead, is "The interesting thing is..." as a lead-in or transition phrase. I can't go one conversation these days without hearing "The interesting thing is..." When you first started noticing it, the interesting thing is that you can find it EVERYWHERE. While I'm sure that there are a lot of interesting things, "the interesting thing" is not one of them. It's just annoying.

And now, I'm just waiting for the phrase "What the interesting thing is is" to start up.

When I was in college, my house-mates planned a large number of ski trips. On one particular one, two friends, Chris and George, skiied down a particularly difficult double black diamond. Not sure if this was in Colorado or not (I think it was), but when the two of them returned at the end of the day, they were tired. Chris let the rest of them know that he and George had gone down the hard run, and George exclaimed it was the hardest run he had ever done, and he hadn't even wanted to do it! He was terrified the whole time! Chris turned to him somewhat confused and said, "But you said you wanted to do it!"

George answered, "No, I said, I wanted to have done it, I never said I wanted to do it."

There are a large number of things in life like that: you want to have done them, but that doesn't mean you want to do them. I want the dishes done, but I may not want to do them (possibly a bad example, I find washing dishes meditative these days, as long there aren't too many). I want the toilet clean, but I don't want to clean it.

Here's a better example: I want to stand at Base Camp One of Mount Everest, but I'm not willing to put forth the effort, time and money needed to be standing at the bottom of the tallest mountain in the world.

There are things you want to do in life, and there are things you want to have done in life. If you're not willing to put forth the effort to actually do the items on your to-do list, they will never move to the to-done list. They aren't really things you want to do, they are things you want to have done. There's a big difference, and that difference is how much time, focus, money, life you are willing to pour into accomplishing a task.

If that commitment is zero or otherwise too low, you'll never do it.

And sometimes that's okay.

Sometimes, it is okay to have to-do items left undone.

But let it be a choice. Make that choice obvious. Know what you want to do and what you want to have done. Know that those things you want to do are about the journey, while those things you want to have done are about the destination.

And if you know that you won't do the "want to do" without someone pushing you, go out and find your own Chris to help you to the top of the mountain, where the only way down is through the "want to have done."

"I miss the Bella."

"I do, too."

"When will I stop missing her?"

"Never."

Yesterday, I came across an SD card that I hadn't cleaned out yet, and looked at the pictures on it. They're from the month before Bella died. We were taking her to the vet for fluids regularly, and the pictures were of her in my car on the way to the vet. Everyone at the vet's knew her, they knew me. She never had to wait for her appointment: she'd show up and be ushered into the back room with no delay. I'm pretty sure that didn't thrill her.

I can honestly say, as a cat person, I never expected to miss a dog. Bella had very cat-like qualities, and reminded me in many, many ways of Dirty Mitten, Jenny's cat when we were growing up. That cat would always console anyone crying, and be around people when all the time. She was a good cat.

Bella was a good dog.

Odd to say, but Bella is the first pet I've had die. All my other pets either ran away or were given away earlier. Bella was the first who died still with me.

I miss her howling. I miss her stinkiness. I miss her snuggling. I miss her single lick of the nose to say hello. I miss her curling up into a ball at my feet. I miss her warm puppy breath. I miss her tricking Annie into leaving the spot Annie was sitting in, because Bella wanted to sit there. I miss her burrowing. I miss a lot about that dog. I still miss her every day.

An aunt of mine told me that you never stop missing your pets after they pass. You have other pets that you hope will fill the holes created when the earlier ones die; but, the new ones don't really fill those holes. Instead, you love each of your pets, and gather more holes as they pass, and celebrate their lives and the time you had with them.

I wonder how many more of these Bella picture surprises I'll have.

I hope I remember to celebrate them and not be sad because of the pictures.

Good girl, Bella.

One of the things that I do on a regular basis is say some form of "hello!" to people who follow me on twitter. I think of twitter as a giant party where you're talking with a group of people, but everyone around you can overhear what you're saying. When I notice someone listening in, I prefer to turn to her/him, put my hand out in greeting, and say hello. On twitter, that means when my account is followed by someone, I like to tweet a greeting.

Here is rather one way in the other direction. I write stuff about things that interest me, things that happened in my life, but here is less conversational, and a lot more of a bunch of stuff written down so that I can remember what's been going on in my life, than anything else. And maybe a place to throw up words sometimes.

There is, however, that Contact link over there.

And I have to say, that sometimes wonderful things happen from that link.

Today, I received this email:

So my dog paws the laptop...

and ki.tt is where my browser took me. Now I'm browsing through your life
like some sort of creeper. I guess it wouldn't be here if you cared about
randoms. You're interesting, not afraid of saying 'fuck', and have a skill
set and world of experiences entirely different from my own. Oh, and I'm of
the male liking women smarter than he is persuasion. Not the silly middle
school like, more the appreciation like. At any rate, I've bookmarked your
site, and will pop in once in a while for no reason but to appreciate. Have a great day!

Seriously now, after that email, I will totally have a great day. It totally brightened everything up!

You know what else brightens me up? The happy face of a dog just so excited to see you! (Even better? Smart dogs that take you to ki.tt.)

Comment spam from earlier today:

naturally like your web site however you have to take a look at the spelling on several of your posts.
Several of them are rife with spelling problems and
I find it very troublesome to tell the reality on the other hand I'll certainly come again again.

Okay, so, you're being a dick to me, on my own website, for something that isn't true.

Yeah, I'm laughing at this!

Assholes.