I think he had a good time, but like I said, he wasn't talking. Good thing the birds were.

My friend Dave leaned over and said I should tell her not to worry, that Alice was a true love and should this aquaintence die, I'd only mourn for her for a day. Alice is worth the effort (good thing because I have no choice). Yes, at times I'm better. I even spoke of her the other day without tearing up or pausing so I didn't. But other times, when I least expect it, her name floats into my head and with it, a wall of grief. I may heal one day (for the most part) but I'll never forget. I think that's what love is.

Today I bought my first monthly Muni pass, marking my official entrance into the world of being a San Francisco Native. I can now ride anywhere the Muni goes, along with BART (which =BEER) and Caltrain within San Francisco. Liz Dow-tay!, the San Francisco Treat! Ding ding!

The Nice Man got me all set up on someone else's computer so all is well. With any luck I'll work here 2 or more days per week going forward.

Sunday, a member of my co-ed team decided to drop off the team after I had to scratch her for this week's game since we had too many players. I'm always bummed when there's conflict but losing that one person means my life is a lot easier since I will rarely have to scratch anyone going forward. The A Team had a 4-1 loss, we did have 31 recorded shots on goal (so the number is probably more like 40) and a couple of great moments. The other team was constantly off-sides, at one point I was driving behind the net when they were off-sides. A guy from their team was driving with me while the ref is calling "OFF-SIDES!" so I say to the guy "hey dumbass, you're off sides!" and he goes "yeah well, you're fucking losing." to which I replied "well, you're still off-sides."

Their team has this obnoxious guy who is constantly making comments like "girls shouldn't play hockey" (Sir, hi, I'm full grown, I am not a girl). He had wanted to be on the A Team but I told him that his attitude towards women wouldn't fly. He was messing with my left D, Tommy, who is kind of obnoxious at times himself. Tommy was getting madder and madder, finally, he got his chance, checking the guy into the boards down in the corner, on my side. I was nearby and fell down along with Tommy and the guy. I made a point of not getting up, of laying there holding the guy down and out of the play while Tommy skated away from the scene. The guy gets up, throws down a glove (we all know he'd been waiting for that moment from the first time he picked up a stick) and gets ready to fight Tommy. I slide over to the guy and say, dude, I'm so sorry, I fell right into you. He backed off and Tommy didn't get a penalty. Tommy was also prepared to check the guy who'd cursed at me after I'd called him a dumbass but I reassured him that I'd started that one. A 4-1 loss but I had a decent time despite it.

Who knew that was all you needed to do?

1. Download this fine flier.
2. Go to the Fresh Choice at the south bay's most happening mall: Vallco on May 21.
3. Give the flier to the Nice Man collecting fliers.
4. Eat some salad, pasta and stuff. 20% of your $$ goes toward my band, who is operating on more limited funds than usual, thanks to a spree of music buying last fall.
5. Grin with a full belly and great satisfaction that you have helped the Cupertino Band.

I had a carefully crafted response all ready to go but at the last minute hit cancel instead of send. Nothing I could say would change her mind, only the day her own beloved dog passes away will grant her a new perspective on other people's pain. For now, I'm still grieving as I need to, some days I'm fine some days I miss her like crazy. And so what? I'm still functioning and in a lot of ways doing pretty well. Sometimes that's all you can ask. Sometimes that's enough.

I went to the office manager yesterday and got moved to a much better location. I now have a lovely view of the underside of the Bay Bridge and if I crane my neck, the smallest sliver of a bay view. My co-workers are still frustrated but I am okay. Not thrilled about the shit ass commute but everything else is cool and hey, now I can have a San Francisco Adventure! I might even spy Megnut some day!

Speaking of gems, I finally saw the episode of Real Sex featuring the Penis Puppeteers. You all must see it, watch closely for the hamburger, take note of the sesame seeds!

Speaking of tacky, after visiting the world's most personality-voided notary public yesterday and remembering that it was my mom's birthday while we were sitting there, I ran out to call my mom and tell her how much I sucked for forgetting and Andrea wandered down to the world's most disturbing 'department' store, Savers. Evidently, this place buys the shit you and I have donated to Goodwill and resells it like they're Goodwill, except that they're not. In the Truly Disturbing Shit room, there was the most excellent clock -- 12 inches by 18 inches, a cheesy wood frame with a HUGE picture of Elvis and a little teeny clock in the upper right hand corner. While I was gazing admiringly into the King's face, this Nice Man came up next to me and said 'well, if you're looking for tacky, look no farther!' I was all set to buy the King and his clock until I saw the price -- $49.99! I would not pay $49.99 unless it was on velvet.

Sunday's Red game was also a 2-1 loss but even more fun than the Jets. I was a total bogart, playing all over the place, taking about 5 shots on goal while playing defense. I even caught the puck with my hand and threw it toward the top of our zone (legal while defending your zone), something I've never managed before. I'm thinking it's time to try my hand at playing center instead of defense or wing.

I ran out from my game to Andrea's first Green game, getting there in time for most of it. She had a good time and really kept those feeties moving!

A fine, hockey-filled weekend!

Last night, Gus was laying on the couch looking at me on the other couch. I started talking to him "Gus, do you like your life here? Gus, are you the sweetest big old guy in the whole world?" after each question, he would moan in response. I do think he's the happiest old dog in the world.

And yes, for the first time since Alice's death, I've started to enjoy our dogs again. I still think of her constantly, will always miss her.

Sigh.

Hard to believe Mr. Leo is that old already. Wasn't it just yesterday that I was meeting him for the first time at Kaiser when he was just one day old and a mere 12 pounds? I will always be proud that I was the first person outside of Holly and Kevin to hold him. That kid is just great. And cute too. I got to peek in on him sleeping last night, he was all curled up with a blankie, sporting a handsome blue sleeper. So cute, I didn't want to leave. But I was also struck by the urge to wake him up, so it was best that I left.

Happy almost birthday Leo!!!

Skip, the sweet scared dog that I placed this weekend, is coming back because he bit the woman twice in 2 days. Actually, he's not coming back to me, we have no choice but to put him to sleep (yes, a nice way of saying kill him). At this point, he's a liability and we could never place him again. He'd be with our family forever, being a liability to us. We can't take that risk. I sorta feel like I failed him, but really, he failed himself by biting. Many things can be fixed but fear biters are the worst, pretty much unfixable.

Happy trails, sweet Skip. May you be free from the fear that brings you to bite people in the next life. We'll meet again when I get there and until then Alice will show you the way to the buffet.

It was a much faster, much rougher (keep 2 hands on that stick, missie!) and in some ways more laid back game than I play in EE. Overall, I worked a lot harder but had a lot more fun. Who knew that I'd be happier in a better league?

Afterwards I was so hungry that I ate for an hour. Then I came home and ate some leftovers.

The concert also went well, I'm always amazed at how automatic reading music is for me. I guess doing anything for 15 years would make it somewhat automatic, freeing you up to enhance other aspects of the play, like dynamics and crap.

In all, it was a fun but tiring day.

I was getting all proud of myself and still am. Sept 23, 2000, a little over 18 months ago, I started this journey, not knowing a damn thing about skating, faced with sheer terror when a coach mentioned the word scrimmage. Today, I don't suck, I've even moved up a division in my women's league. Hell, I'm even in the women's league! I'm a pretty scrappy defenseman and skate almost as fast as some people who seem like Wayne Gretzky to me. I'm still not skinny like Kate Moss, will never be, but in so many great ways, hockey has given me a whole new life.

So woo hoo! And please join me in welcoming myself to the Advanced class.

Is this what soccer moms feel like? Exhausted but giddy.

I'm ready for a non-checking day.

This week marked my last time through the class. I've decided to do something that seemed absolutely unattainable to me when I first started skating. I'm taking the Advanced class, which meets at a much more reasonable time, 7:45 p.m. on Thursdays. At this point, I'd rather be the last in line coming back from drills than kind of bored in the beginner class. So I will.

Saturday night was my first Red Division game and it was Big Fun! I loved the pace of the game and how nice everyone was. My parents saw me play for the first time ever, that was the best part. They had no idea how well I could skate (no, I'm still not Espen Knutsen, but I'm getting better all the time) and I think were impressed. Looking in the stands and seeing them there meant more to me than I may ever admit to them. Oh, and we won, 1-0.

They also attended the A-Team's second game and were again impressed. The difference between the women's league and co-ed play is pretty vast, co-ed is a lot more agressive but of course fun. In the span of about 30 seconds, I had my (badass Easton Synergy) stick knocked out of my hands, then got knocked on my ass, snapping my wrist back pretty hard. I limped off the ice and my concerned teammates kept asking if I was okay. I kept saying I didn't know but eventually felt better, though I'm sore today. We lost 6-3 but had a great time. This time I remembered my Captainly duty and shook the ref's hand.

My parents went home this morning after the most laid back visit I've ever had with them. I miss them already.

Sweet dreams Emmy Lu, may Alice show you the way to the buffet!

Emmy, my blind puppy mill girl, gave up the fight against lymphoma today. She let us know it was time to let her go. I am still pretty numb - even though I thought I was prepared for her passing to the Rainbow Bridge, I don't think I really was. I would like to thank all of you who have sent words of encouragement and support when we heard the news and over the last month as we struggled with helping her. I will try to answer you all personally as soon as I can.

Emmy came to us as a foster for the local rescue in May of 2000. She was born at a puppy mill here in AZ and was kept to use as a breeder. She was bred every season for 6 years until the puppy mill owner decided she was no longer useful. When she was released from the puppy mill she was sooooo thin. It turns out that her teeth were rotten and infected and it hurt too much for her to eat. The vet said she had never seen teeth as bad as Emmy's. We had her spayed and had her teeth pulled and she started gaining weight. She trusted us immediately, unlike many of the other puppy mill dogs that were rescued alongside Emmy. She sought out attention and affection whenever she got a chance and settled into a life of leisure. Her only issue was that she tinkled when she ate; a habit we never broke her of. A family expressed interest in adopting her and assured us that the tinkling would not bother them. Unfortunately it did, and she was returned a few days later. Shortly after her return, one of her eyes swelled up. We rushed her to the vet, but it was too late. She had genetic glaucoma and we discovered that she also tested off the charts for tick fever, which aggravated the glaucoma. She needed eye surgery, but the rescue couldn't afford it. I cried all the way home from the eye clinic, worried that Emmy was in pain and needed help. Her Auntie Mel [Melissa Rogers] came forward and made 17 "Emmy dolls" that were sold for $100 apiece to fund Emmy's surgery. She came through the surgery with flying colors and my husband and I made the decision to permanently add her to our family. A few months later here other eye started bothering her, and she eventually underwent another surgery. A few bone infections later, she was fine. She enjoyed her weekly visits to the bark park, trips to Petco, even attending ceramics classes. Then early this year, my husband found a lump on Emmy's neck and we took her to the vet. We were given the sad news that Emmy had lymphoma and we vowed to spend as much time with her as possible for as long as she was with us. I'm happy to say that we fulfilled that promise and I have so many happy memories, especially her day as Queen of the Waddle of the Green.

Emmy charmed everyone she met. She was always attracting a crowd at the dog park when she would "accidentally" bump into someone to get them to pet her. She would sit patiently and wait her turn if there was any petting to be had.

We always joked that Emmy had no vocal cords (she'd been de-barked by the puppy mill), no teeth, and no eyes, but she had all of our hearts. :-) Emmy, you will be missed, but we'll meet again. In the meantime, hopefully Hannah is there at the Bridge to show you the way.

So now that I've converted (in my own mind and on hockey jerseys, not with the DMV or anything) my name to Dow-tay! I've made peace with all of that. I'm neither full Doughty nor full Birthname here (name not disclosed to protect their privacy), I'm simply somewhere in the middle, leaning toward Doughty, but simply Dow-tay! nonetheless. My mom didn't know that I'd adopted this Dow-tay! persona until last week. She said it was silly until I said that my brother calls me Dow-tay! then she thought it was okay.

In a lot of ways, being adopted gives you the absolute freedom to be yourself. There are no expectations about how you're supposed to look, act or how smart you're supposed to be (though my parents did remind me that my birthmom was smart so I should work hard in school, implying that I had the genes to get better grades than I did). You're just yourself from day one. Becoming Liz Dow-tay! made that clear. I'm still just me and always have been.

Thanks!

Today I got this email from one of them: "I will make the game on Sunday. I would need to have a near death experience to miss the game. Actually, a full death experience would also cause me to miss the game."

It's a far cry from the other team I was on, where nobody was interested in practicing or even talking. I wish them all the best, but I'm giddy about how darn nice the A-Team is.

In the end, (meaning today, which is probably not the last day of my life, but you do never know) I'm quite me. Somewhere between nature and nuture arrives Liz Dow-tay! I think it means I'm more inclined towards having animals be a central portion of my life, always ready to make/laugh at a fart joke and until hockey, not interested in sports. I imagine that for those of you (my 4 loyal readers) looking and acting like someone else was something you took for granted. I know I would've too. But I didn't. I don't look like my family and in a lot of ways don't act like them. Sometimes I wonder what I would've been like had I grown up with my birthfamily but really, we'll never know.

The reason I mention this is this morning I was talking to my mom, who will be here (yes, with my Dad) tomorrow for a visit. My brother is recently unemployed now and my situation is still largely volunteer-based, meaning that both he and I have more time to spend with El Familia. Mom says "maybe we just shouldn't come" and I say "look at this time as a gift," but she can't. I have to, otherwise I'd be really depressed that the time I've spent learning the skills I have seems largely wasted today.

Each time I don my A-Team jersey, it's a tribute to her. I'm #1 because she was #1. We may not win but that doesn't matter as long as I can honor and remember MissAlice in some way. Even though most of my stuff from the office is gone, taken home long ago, Al's stuffed dog is still here. It will be the last thing that leaves the office with me once the fat lady sings or the Nice Man handing out job offers somewhere else comes along.

Some days, I come home and expect her to be there. Other days, I see Rainie sitting in Al's old spot and I get sad. Some days, I can just smile if I think about her but most of the time I smile and cry. Right now I think the tears would hurt my sunburned face so I won't cry today if I can help it.

But she's never far from my thoughts.

The bad news: we lost. 3 of those goals went right by me. I'm used to playing with a different goalie, one who is more my backup than someone we need to backup. This is no great diss on her, she's just pretty new at this and needs stronger defense than I'm used to playing. So I'll have to kick it up a notch.

This morning, my inbox was filled with mail from the team. They were all so excited after the game, they could hardly sleep! The Red Army captain said we looked really organized, that with more game time together, we'd be a really good team. I appreciated that, since I've spent a lot of time and energy making us organized. After the game, I realized that as the captain, I have to shake the ref's hand. Good thing I realized that before I left the ice. I also learned that a heavy bag of pucks on your shoulder changes your balance while on skates, another valuable lesson.

The sunburn continues to smart. Today it's turned into a nice splotchy beard. It still hurts, maybe even worse than yesterday. I suppose it's good that I'm not getting any more interview calls since I'm in no shape to meet people like this.

If you see me in the next few days, don't look too closely at my face. It's making me wish I were Muslim for a day so I could cover this up. Blech.

We had a fabulous and huge lunch at the lodge while we watched children frolic in the spiffy outdoor pool with skiiers whizzing past them down the mountain. We decided that we are now expert skiiers, so we'll be back on the mountain before too long.

Our intention is to try out for the Amazing Race so everything we did was practice. We took a $5 bus to Squaw Valley. The bell desk and valet guys all said it would pull up right where we were, but after 20 minutes of waiting, we realized that it wasn't coming. The all-knowing conceirge told us that it came somewhere else so we hopped in a cab and went to the last stop on the bus route. After our day of frolic, we had the grumpy bus driver take us back to a different hotel so we could have the fine Saturday night buffet. We then hitched a ride to the airport on the Atlantis airport shuttle and caught a ride from there on our hotel's airport shuttle to avoid paying for a cab. We weren't the only people riding the free airport train, there was a stoner kid at Atlantis who went on to the Eldorado and the ass-kicker -- this old guy who had also scammed a free buffet at Atlantis by wandering around, plate in hand asking questions about coffee and prime rib. The old guy came sauntering up, belly full of free buffet food and rapped on the closed door of the Eldorado bus as it was pulling away. Neither he nor the kid had any luggage (aka props) but still got a free ride.

Amy Suarez and I sat there, stunned. The old guy had kicked all of our asses!

Yesterday, we headed downtown to the Cal Neva for a 99 cent breakfast and a free ride to the airport on their shuttle. Amy was busy winning scads of nickels from Mr. Lucky when it was time to go. We headed to the lobby and waited and waited and got nervous. Finally, a limo rolls up -- it was our shuttle! We made full use of the partition between us and the driver and felt like royalty when we rolled up at the airport. People were staring at us, I waved.

I did get a massive sunburn on my face, which is painful and unpleasant. A small price to pay for a grand adventure.