the more i get sick of home, the more homesick i get.

although last weekend, weekend #2 of the rock-star-nerd-tour, was dedicated to a sea-side, shell-lined, dually-fine wedding, going to miami is never without childhood, or childish, drama.

i suppose that part of growing up is losing. and learning to live with loss.

but nothing -- nothing -- ever prepares you to lose a childhood pet.

i'm not sure if maggie was "waiting" for my mom to get home from the airport or for me to get home from dc, but last weekend she passed on to bigger and better rawhide. and like a typical rosenbaum, maggie went out with high drama. just ten minutes after eric and i got home from the airport and sat down to eat our deli turkey sandwiches at my kitchen table in miami, maggie died at our feet (more-or-less).

i don't think i can look at a turkey sandwich the same way ever again.

so much for an uneventful boyfriend-home-to-meet-the-parents-event.

and while her odd timing makes for a good story for eric to tell his co-workers, losing her is profoundly devastating. maggie's death provides me evidence for an argument i have been supporting for months now:

there's no such thing as a grown up.

having lived through quite a bit of loss in my life, i always assumed it got easier as you grew older. after all, doesn't growing up mean acquiring experience that allows us to better deal with tribulation? but just when we think that life and circumstance have truly, once and for all, allowed us to become an adult, life sweeps our feet out from under us.

either with the death of a childhood pet (with a full-on jewish funeral in the backyard later that afternoon). or another wedding in a long series of your friends tying the knot. or the first meeting of your ex-boyfriend and current one. or a gynecologist appointment.

somehow, while we are always "prepared to fight the last war" -- prepared to deal with experiences we've already known -- the casualties of our emotions are never any less.

meredith grey said it best when the show's writers noted that "we move on. we move up. we moveaway from our families and form our own. but the basic insecurities --the basic fears -- just grow up with us."

maggie's death was -- and continues to be -- hard for me. the only good to come from the doctor's appointment was ... right, nevermind. the meeting of the significant others was anxiety-producing-enough that warrant the use of xanex. in short, debbie's weekend #2 of the rock-star-nerd-tour is actually being considered for the next edition in the series of unfortunate events.

nevertheless, the wedding was beautiful (and so was the bartender). and despite all the trials, i danced like crazy. i guess that even in profound sadness and loss, sometimes, the best we can do is dance the macarena.

i've heard it's possible to grow up. i've just never met anyone who's done it.