Life and an Unexpected Death

Sometimes when you get overwhelmed by what’s happening in your life, as well as the world, writing down your thoughts takes a backseat. You don’t want to attempt to convey your thoughts into articulate sentences, because you’re just trying to survive the current moment, and the next, and the next, until you can eventually catch your breath. A few days into March, and I feel like I can finally reflect on the first few painful months in 2026.

January sucked right off the bat. It felt as if 2025 didn’t want to die, and quickly grabbed hold of the first month in 2026 to create a 13th month of misery. Maduro being kidnapped in the night by the U.S. government, creating an international incident the first week in the new year. ICE continued their deadly reign of terror unchecked. Stress levels spiked for sure.

Towards the end of the month, we had an unexpected loss in our household. We noticed Dinah had put on some weight, and appeared to be ballooning up a little over a few days. Taking precautions, we scheduled an appointment with her vet for Friday afternoon. To our surprise, they requested we bring her in earlier for a quick diagnosis. We should have realized right then that something was off. Sure enough, we were then brought into one of the rooms and later told that she has cancer, and that the outcome did not look good, having maybe weeks to live. We were in absolute shock by this. She was ballooning from fluid in her body cavity, and it was associated with cancer. They drained her to make her feel more comfortable, but warned us that if she continued to refill over the next few days, it wasn’t a good sign.

Sure enough, she did refill. When we returned a few days later to learn of her blood test results, cancer cells were detected. We could take her to a specialist for further tests and possible surgery to remove whatever might be causing it, but she would still be filling up with fluid in the meantime, staying miserable, and might not even make it another week or two to learn of any results. It was soul crushing to hear, and we had to make the extremely difficult choice of whether to prolong her pain, or do the humane thing and help her cross the rainbow bridge. After a long discussion with her vet of the past 8 years, we decided to put her to sleep. We arranged for an at-home euthanasia service to come by Friday afternoon. We wanted to do it in our bed, where she was most comfortable. I have never sobbed that hard before in my life. She was only 10-years old.

When we first rescued her 8-years ago from a high kill shelter in Downey, she was only 2-years old and had the name 'Perfect' from the horrible family that abandoned her there. I distinctly remember leaving work early to drive up to Downey from Venice, and made it just as they were closing for the day. We rescued her just in time. Ever since, she had been Amanda and I's third wheel in life, constantly letting us love and adore her (usually against her will). She always loved sitting in our laps as we read, watched TV, or slept. She loved her laser and cat tree, and army of mice littered around the house. As a Tortie, she definitely had tortitude and let us know when she was unhappy with us. The audacity that we didn't bring her evening wet food to her at a brisk pace! We weren't expecting our time with her to be so short, but we cherished every moment with her. She's at peace, and will always be in our hearts. Her ashes and clay paw print now occupy our mantle.

The house now feels especially empty. I work from home, and it was always nice having her check-in on me, or me seeking her out in one of her dozen different snoozing spots. Amanda and I have never not had an animal to love, so it’s a new uncomfortable experience. The outpouring of love we received helped, but it still hurts to remember she’s not here. A loose t-shirt on the floor or a bag leaning against the couch resembles her, and is a constant painful reminder. If we ever do get another cat at some point, we might want to get two so we’ll have a spare. But as of now, we only have each other to comfort.

In February we tried to take our minds off Dinah and took our scheduled vacation to London and Venice. It helped, but we were immediately reminded of her absence when we got back on a cold rainy night to an empty house.

One thing we recognized this time oversees was how much more expensive things have gotten in recent years. In France we don’t seem to mind it as much because it’s France and well worth it in our eyes, but for London and Venice it sort of feels offensive that they have the audacity to demand high prices on such mediocre restaurants and experiences.

In London we both had exhibitions we wanted to check out that were close to our hearts. For Amanda, a Marie Antoinette exhibit at the Victoria & Albert Museum, and for myself, Triple Trouble, a street art exhibit featuring collaborations between Invader, Shepard Fairey, and Damien Hirst at the Newport Street Gallery. The fact that both exhibitions were running simultaneously the week we were visiting was serendipitous. I of course also spent time flashing Invaders in London and getting those numbers up. I only had a pitiful 4 from the last time, and now have 29. I didn’t get a chance to hit up SoHo, where several dozen pieces live. Next time (I have every single one of them mapped).

When we flew over to Venice for our first Carnival experience, we were a little nervous. We brought several costume pieces for the multiple parties we were invited to, but didn’t know how everything was going to pan out. Thankfully, we were staying with friends in an AirBnB and they helped make the experience a memorable one. Venice remains busy and confusing, but because we were visiting in February, very cold and windy as well. Our first party (“Allegories of Venice”) was a delightful one, and I rocked my outfit/mask that I designed for the occasion. By the time Saturday rolled around which consisted of two parties, one in the afternoon, the other evening, I unfortunately got food poisoning from a pork chop the day before and had to hang back to rest while the others went out and enjoyed themselves. I basically took those costumes on vacation with me, and they never got to leave the luggage.

The next day I felt well enough to attend our final party (“The Chocolate Ball”), and wore the outfit Amanda purchased for me at the LA Opera’s costume sale. It took place in a grand Venetian ballroom, and I felt well enough for one dance. Amanda of course looked stunning as usual in her gorgeous red dress, and received several compliments throughout. There was a plethora of chocolate candies and pastries at the end, but to play it safe for my stomach I just had some sparkling water. My gluttony does know some bounds, it would seem.

With a majority of the historical costuming community now eying to make Carnival an annual trip as well as Fêtes Galantes, Amanda has decided to maybe attend Carnival every other year. Her first love will always be Fêtes, but it’s very expensive to attend both events every year. I personally love Fêtes more because of Versailles (with Paris a short RER C ride away), but the dressing up is more of Amanda’s passion than mine. I’ll attend on occasion, just not every single time. For example, she’s attending in May with a friend this time, and I’ll chill back home in Los Angeles. Originally I was going to babysit Dinah, but that as we now know is no longer required, unfortunately.

At the end of the year the plan is visiting Vienna, Austria for their Christmas Market. I’ll be planning that one. Yes, there are Invaders in the city I’ll be attempting to flash, but there’s also the Marie Antoinette connection for Amanda, and several palaces to gawk at. Plus Amanda has never been in the snow, so where better for her first time than a Christmas Market? I’ll be slipping Krampus an couple of euros to punish her for her wicked ways.

I’ve been writing a lot more since finishing the first season of Abroad. I’ve even submitted it to a few festivals, but don’t expect much. I need to know a producer if I realistically want it to get made. Anyone have Leo Bloom’s number? I’ve been working on a script for a feature-length film, and a short story about a crow that I’ll be publishing here most likely next month. I also have plans to write a mockumentary based on the historical costuming community, so that should be fun. I have both stories and experiences to create something entertaining. Look out, Christopher Guest!

I’m also averaging reading at least 3 books a month, which is incredible for me. I’m a slow reader because I absorb every word to recall characters and storylines years later. This year I’m finally keeping track of everything I read, and will have a blog post reviewing everything at the end of the year. I always switch from contemporary to classics without any rhyme or reason. Keeps things fresh that way. While on vacation I picked-up a New Yorker and Vanity Fair to read on the plane, and I forgot how much I enjoyed both publications. When I returned home, I got two more issues and have been reading them over breakfast every morning instead of doom scrolling on my phone while I eat. It’s a new habit I’m trying to make permanent. Disconnect from the horrors and return to the tangible.

That does it for the past few months in a nutshell. Obviously losing Dinah has put a damper on things, and we’ll continue to mourn for quite some time. In the meantime it’s all about creating carrots to look forward to in the coming months, and try to seize the day.

One last time, here’s a picture of Dinah to cleanse your palate.

R.I.P. Dinah 2015 - 2026