Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Here's why I shouldn't have a dog

This week I'm babysitting...a dog. Notice I didn't say dog sitting.

The first time I watched her she was a puppy, an "untrained" puppy. That means she did her business all over my apartment, for an entire week. The positive reinforcement give-her-a-treat-when-rarely pooping-outside trick was not successful. Since I was teaching a two week Yoga and writing course at the time, with flexible hours, I figured the availability to come home at lunch, take her back to school with me etc would make for an easy week. False.
As those of you who've followed my previous dating life have already concluded, I'm not too quick of a learner. And so, I committed to babysitting this dog again. I'm on Summer break, why wouldn't I have a dog with me...all day long? One that is no longer under 20 pounds especially.

In the past 24 hours I've decided I should NEVER have a dog because of the following reasons:
1. The noise created by said dog chewing a bone makes me wanna punch an infant.
2. I refuse to spend any of my hard earned income on dog merch. "Looks like you chewed through your leash, I guess you'll be staying inside today now won't you?"
3. Dog smells. All of them. Unacceptable.
4. "Really? I'm picking up your poop?"
5. Whimpering doesn't make me question what the pouch's current need is. It makes me yell at her to be quiet.
6. I feel it's unreasonable that I have to trick a DOG into getting into her crate when I leave. Playing "Go after the beef jerky I just threw in there" for five minutes is not my idea of time well spent.
7. I don't think it's sweet to cuddle with you in my bed. I'll barely do that with another human, let alone a possibly flea infested animal.
8. More sounds: lapping of water, whipping around the frayed rope toy...nope not okay with those either.
9. Window down, you sticking your head out doesn't make me smile, it makes me anxious. If you jump out and get run over by an F150, guess who your mom is mad at?
10. Life is just easier without a dog. I've said it before and I'll say it again, I just wanna live a simple life.

Friday, June 11, 2010

Why is it so easy...

to totally hate men?

I'm almost hoping that upon reading the first line, you immediately rolled your eyes or said something like "ah geez" under your breath.
I know.
This does not come from a bitter, I just got dumped kind of place, quite the contrary. I am actually quite pleased with the male suitor in my life. In fact I'll let ya in on a little secret, I'm on the LOVE train. This is a great thing to remind me of when I'm in my dark place...listening to Fiona Apple and painting my nails a shade of deep purple.

I bring this up because I am overwhelmed with how true I STILL find this statement. I found myself texting a girlfriend (a like minded one) yesterday...
"Hey wanna meet up for lunch and talk about how we hate men?"
Her reply...
While the end of our lunch date did NOT leave us settling on the idea of storming out on our men and becoming life partners, we did discuss how frustrating we find dealing with males to be!

Throughout most of the last 5 years (I say "most" because there were a few DB's that reminded me), I've forgotten about this fact often. Some might say that having a wonderful boyfriend should change your view on men, yea okay. True. There are some Saraland "truths" that have become "falses" thanks to this great man, but his very existence ALSO reminds me of how interacting with the male species can be so IRRITATING! It's nothing personal toward my boo (incorrect spelling purposeful), he is no doubt the cream of the crop, and due to the fact that he was born in the 70's, has me picking up on ridiculous sayings like...cream of the crop. However, his mere two Y chromosomes make...me...CRAZY! How can such a level headed woman turn psycho so easily?! Note: My psycho-ness is often stuck in the confines of my own head, for the sake of the world. It's crazy making. Who really cares if the tone in someones voice was less than joyful? Apparently, if I love you...and you're a male...I do. Great. So glad to be emotionally invested. What a joy.

Love: So Euphoric

Wednesday, June 9, 2010


Lately it's been a rough one...I'm steering clear of calling it a rough week, because for this particular pocket of my world, it's been a rough 6 months. Boo.

As mentioned before, I'm the kid at work who has to prove herself. YAY! Yes I know that I am practically still a tween, but having graduated college almost five years ago, I HAVE HAD JOBS before now. Crazy right? The school loans and rent have been paid for the last 1/2 decade, really.

Anywho... without that information being known or acknowledged, I have become the "new" teacher who might be (or very clearly will be in some opinions, like my own) good enough to give a classroom next year. Although it is still strangely unclear whether or not this will be offered to this deserving and qualified teacher, I am offended that the choice is not more obvious. That being said, last week I was called a terrible name, one that is the worst than any of the others known world wide by their first letter. I was called..."Second Choice."

I will avoid my entire being that wants to tell all of you every detail of what I've accomplished this year and why I feel like that two word naughty name feels like a punch to the ovaries. Instead, I'll share the beautiful mechanism of coping.

First comes fight OR flight. I chose fight. In fact, I warn you now...you may want to steer clear of this scenario. While I avoid the temptation to take flight, and cry so much that my red cheeks debut, I generally am skilled in stalling until the confrontation is complete, maintaining the appearance of a hardcore individual. Second, upon leaving the environment begin to hysterically cry. I mean, I hear that's what some people do. Next, hop on the phone with someone who will know what has happened before you begin to explain. I find that the initial thirty seconds of sniffling noises gets the point across. Then, post tear trauma, arrive at home and begin to straighten your room and clean the kitchen. This can be a truly magical time for those of us that gush over every pillow placed in it's correct space. Finally, productivity sets in. Calls are made and actions are taken to FIX whatever the problem may be. This way, when you update everyone you know in your world, they can feel relieved knowing you have a plan in place, a ball rolling if you will. While all these stages occur within approximately twenty minutes total, they are essential to the coping process. This allows for minimal red cheeks and ranting for at least the next 48 hours, before the topic is put in your face once again. I have found this works especially well if your particular confrontation is work related and happening on a Friday...

Thursday, June 3, 2010

Beautiful Brusher

What is it about going to the Dentist that makes you feel so good at life?

Although I don't manage to abide by the "cleaning every six months" rule (boring), going once every 13 still makes my chest puff up just a little bit. And yes I meant 13 months, not 12. I fall short of the just a little bit of a slacker "once a year cleaning" just slightly. Gotta keep Point Loma Family Dental on their toes. Lord knows I try to be faithful in my dental commitments but like most others in my life, being just a little behind is so very comfortable! Is it comfortable or familiar? I did learn the mere difference very recently. hmmm. Deep.

I was lectured on the typical lack of flossing, which I assume most have heard at least a time or two. The hygienist found it necessary to not only give me the lecture (ya know the whole your gums wouldn't be gushing blood right now if you actually flossed once in a while talk), but also gave me a full blown lesson on how to floss. This even included a hand held mirror. Nothing boosts your self esteem like an up close shot of your bleeding mouth and chin from an upward view. I don't think she knows that the reason I don't conform to this healthy habit is NOT because I am unaware of how to accomplish the task, I think I could even be good at it if I tried. I steer clear of the glossy floss because I'm a rebel! Doyee.

I was however told, more than once (uh thank you), that I brush beautifully. Alright then. At least I don't totally suck at my dental duties. It's okay, I immediately forget about the put down and just focus on the fact that I am able to remember the last time I was in this chair, having my grill prodded...keeping me feeling good at life.