0 It Was All Blue Pillow

is something i'm constantly singing to myself, unfortunately, to the tune of coldplay's "yellow." you know how you date a guy, eventually make your way into his habitation, and--no matter how well-versed and sophisticated he may be--inevitably you find something of his bachelordom that confuses or irks you? it could be obvious, say, a painting of dogs playing cards. or, say, some rank fish aquarium with no fish in it. perhaps an old, leather piece of furniture. my ex had this framed, ducks unlimited poster of puppies. (sorry, tater, i can't let it go.) i don't date chris george; i just go right on ahead and live with him platonically, but he has this eerily small, turquoise and felt throw pillow. just the one. it serves no purpose. akin to a single christmas ornament left on the couch or coffee table. tinsel tossed upon a television set.retta loves this pillow. yesterday alone i took it away from her and placed it back where it belongs three times. but where does it belong? small enough to go on a book shelf or between the bags of yellow rice in the cupboard. i could feasibly place it in a soap tray.aside from reasons of training, i see no reason to take it from retta. we all know she can pulverize a toy in minutes. she doesn't "hurt "the pillow, not ever. she lies down with it, rests her head on it, licks it (which is a sound i wish upon no one's ears). if she wanted to harm it, she would have done so by now. which leads me to believe it's like her comfort blanky.as a child i had nonny, this flannel pillow case with sheep on it. i sucked my thumb and held it. when my mother asked, quite reasonably, when i planned on ending the whole thumb thing, i replied, quite reasonably, "when i'm 88." i did finally stop the thumb/blanky stuff when i went to college and got myself a rather handsome boyfriend and figured i couldn't in good conscience bring nonny to his house to watch a soccer match.retta's going through a change. her black hair is turning brown, oddly. she's getting nipples which i keep thinking are flea bites (notebook of nipples is what jon stewart has called a binder of women). sometimes watching a dog grow up is as awkward as watching a person. you don't want to look the clumsiness head on.i don't want to think retta's plan is to ruin everything. just some things. i had a lovely lunch of duck and pimento cheese grits with a male friend of mine today; he's a kind of mentor. we talk about work and our relationships. by which i mean his family and my singledom. i confessed to him that the most recent ex had said i'm relentlessly independent, that i don't need anyone and that characteristic is scary. so it became scary to me suddenly. the friend said, "that's not entirely true. i think you're ready. it's not like you sabotage relationships." and suddenly there was this cinema of ways i have sabotaged relationships that began looping through my head.naturally, i returned home and gave the blue pillow to ret. you may never ruin it, i thought, or you might in some fit rip it to shreds. i have to hope that at some point we will do the former.

Credit: lay-reports.blogspot.com