As the winter rolls on it is becoming increasingly difficult to leave my warm little cocoon of black fur and pug smells each morning to venture out into the coldness of the world.
I think Moxie agrees...
My favorite place on pugs is that little black cheek mole on the sides of their face. It's where I used to love kissing Pugsley and inhaling deeply the comingling of pug wrinkle and pug ear smells. I believe it's the point of maximum imbibing for pug odors, the nexus, if you will.
I used to take his little stray whiskers that protruded from the cheek moles and roll them between my thumb and forefinger, it was a nervous habit I had developed or something I would just do for minutes and hours on end to pass the time.... then I would stop to breathe him in some more and it became a comfort ritual. Like a child with their security blanket.
This sweet picture reminds me of that pug smell. I can almost look at those cheeky little pug moles and smell the smells that I so adore...
I wish the tech gods would invent scratch and sniff computer screens already.
I love line 72 on form 1040 where it tells you what your refund is and then line 73a directly underneath of it reads, "Amount of line 72 you want refunded to you".
It always puzzled me why the government needs to ask this question. Is anyone actually going to enter an amount less than their total refund here??
What are they hoping people will forget to fill in the amount and thereby forfeit their right to a refund?
I also have to chuckle at the top of the form where it says, "Check here if you or your spouse want $3 to go to go to the presidential election campaign."
Coincidentally....I just spent an hour on hold with the IRS only to find out that I have to file an extension if I want to claim my first time home buyer's credit this year since my closing is not until 4/27 but my tax return is due on 4/15. missed it by 12 days....Argh!!!!!!!!
Last month we were all sitting around the dinner table celebrating my birthday. A good friend of mine asked me what words of wisdom I'd like share from my now many years of living and learning. Here is what I would have said if I was able to articulate verbally as well as I can in writing:
It has taken me a long time to understand that life is all about second chances and what you make of them.
Fact: a dog will never fall out of love with you.
There has never been a better time to try and fail. Who knows.....you might even succeed.
Dare to be different.
Challenge yourself. You'll feel more alive.
I don't care who you are or what your circumstance - nobody else is going to make your dreams come true, only you can make them happen.
Everybody has their addictions, passions, and obsessions - mine just happen to have 4 legs, wrinkled faces, and curly tails.
If we let fear stop us from going after the things we really want then we risk never getting them.
Anger only makes you weak. It's forgiveness that makes you strong.
Volunteer for a cause you believe in. It will do your body, mind, and spirit nothing but good.
You used to think I was crazy but the truth is I am probably the sanest female you know.
And if the band you're in starts playing different tunes, I'll see you on the dark side of the moon.
You should honor and cherish the people who are always there for you, because someday they won't be.
Dogs aren't our whole lives, but they do make our lives more whole.
The more I give, the more I have to give.
I think the meanest thing you can do to a person is to say things you don't really mean, just to appease them, or yourself.
One shot of whiskey in hot tea will cure a sore throat. Try it, you'll see.
I have faith that everything will work out the way it's supposed to.
I do believe that good things come to those who wait.
I have been missing you, have you been missing me?
Whatever is meant to be, will be. Trusting this and feeling it deep down in your bones is what will keep you calm and peaceful when life feels out of control.
Being successful in life may mean different things to different people. For me it means being able to master the fine art of balance between destiny and seizing random opportunities. It's like Forest Gump said at the end of the film, "I don't know if we each have a destiny, or if we're all just floating around accidental-like on a breeze, but I, I think maybe it's both. Maybe both is happening at the same time."
You should never knock someone else's dream - it might seem silly to you but for them, it may be all they have.
Remember when the people who are supposed to love you the most suddenly find you unlovable, it's most likely not because you have changed...it's because they have.
Perspective can be a deceitful little b*tch when you lose her....but when she finds her way back she will be your best friend on a dark rainy night.
Life can only be understood backwards, but it must be lived forward. ~ Kierkegaard,
Are we really THAT different, you and I?
Physical beauty is fleeting, enjoy it while it lasts.
It's one thing to be nice and accommodating it's another to be walked on and taken advantage of. You should learn the difference.
When you're loved ones are hurting and you feel helpless, don't push them....send them gentle thoughts and let them know you are there. They will come around when they're ready.
You can't be everything and everywhere to everybody, sometimes the best thing you can do for others is to just be yourself.
"But Farmer Hogget knew that little ideas.....that tickled and nagged and refused to go away....should never be ignored...for in them lie the seeds of destiny."
~ Narrator, Babe.
It might be how she whips those Biggest Loser contestants into shape... or it might be the way her right eyebrow is mysteriously always raised about an inch higher that the left.
I'm not sure exactly what it is but something just doesn't seem quite right..
She does have a good stomach though.
Watched Marley and Me.
I knew it would completely wreck me.
Waterworks. Major waterworks.
sniff sniff :(
I'm thinking I should have named Plum Pinky Tuscadero because she is always pink. And because she can be one bad ass chick when she wants to be..... feisty, flirtatious, and spirited.....but still kind of sweet and sexy in her own special way.
Here are some pictures of Plum's rehabilitation from when I rescued her 3 months ago to where she is now. We've had some setbacks and will probably have more....but we are also making overall steady progress.
My end goal is to get her to the point where she is completely itch free and all the hair grows back on her feet and neck so the little old gal can enjoy her golden years without a hint of discomfort. I know it can be done, anything is possible with enough love and diligence.
We still have a long way to go but I love a challenge, and I do love me some Pum Pum.
It's funny how different love can be. The way I loved Pugsley was soooo different from how I love Plum. Pugsley was a one of a kind, so human-like, my one and only Sausage, the forever Pug of my heart.
No other will ever compare. No bond will ever be as strong and I will never love another living creature the way I loved him. It will never be the same, and that's ok. It's not meant to be is it?
I finally get it....each love you are blessed with in this life is meant to be unique and different and cherished for exactly what it is, nothing more and nothing less. They are not meant to replace the one that came before, but to leave their own special footprints on your heart.
I guess it's the same with humans. Some loves you have are more brotherly/sisterly or like a best friend and others burn with a fire in your belly that can never be distinguished.
The important thing is to keep on loving.
Just curious - do your pugs, or other breeds for that matter, ever do back kicks or circles when they go to the bathroom?
I laugh out loud ever time I witness this. And I find it so funny how each dog seems to have their own little rituals of marking or whatever it is they are trying to do.
Pugsley for instance, would circle about 10 times before he went # 2. I always thought he had a touch of doggy OCD b/c he had to keep circling and circling until he found just the right spot.
And on occasion after eliminating - if and only if he was feeling particularly spry and stout that day - he would crank out a couple back kicks just to put the exclamation point on top of his load.
I have to say the Sausage, bless his little soul, was not the most graceful of kickers - his little chicken legs in the front made his hind quarters awkward and wobbly. Oftentimes he would lose balance and catch himself from falling over to the side despite his valiant efforts.
Boy do I miss that Sausage.
Then as a capper he would take off running in a mad dash back for the house with an ear-to-ear grin on his face like he'd just accomplished the biggest feat in the world! This may also have had something to do with the fact that I gave him a "poopie treat" each time he went.
Now Miss Plum on the other hand - She is a kicker! She never kicks after #2 though, only #1. Maybe that's a male dog thing?
When the ACC van pulled into my driveway to drop her off, poor little Plum was so scared of the big guy with leather gloves coming at her that she wouldn't come out of the cage and was viciously trying to bite him. Finally I had to climb into the back of the van that was stacked full of homeless dogs in cages and I had to coax her out with nothing more than my bare hands and a soothing voice. I think we bonded right then and there.
She was in sad shape and ACC guy had a doubtful look in his eye like, "How are you ever going to be able to help this dog?" When I finally got her out onto the lawn she immediately squatted and peed and then launched into the fiercest back kicks I have ever seen! That's when I knew she had a whole lot of feisty left in her.....I just looked over at the big gloved ACC guy and said, "She's a kicker!" Then he drove off to make more deliveries.
And boy is she...a kicker.
When it comes to doing her lady business she doesn't circle at all.... and she is slow as the day is long, like I'm thinking of taking my book outside with me to get 10 or so pages in while I'm waiting for her to go!
But when she finally does go her back legs are steady and swift as quicksilver! Each time after she pees, without fail, she lowers her body back down to the ground to really get some dirt under her paws. On a good day she'll catch a patch of grass and make it fly, too. I tell you she kicks and kicks like I've never seen a girl pug kick. You'd be surprised too because she looks so dainty and unassuming. I've noticed her thing is to kick 4 times on each leg, 8 kicks in total.
I tried to find some pictures on the web of silly dogs doing back kicks to illustrate but I don't think any exist. Could that really be possible? With all the sick sh*t on the internet there are no photos of dogs doing back kicks after potty?
I will remedy this asap with my new Nikon D80. It will be one of my first action shots....I'm thinking I will use my 70-300MM lens in morning light.
So, what funny rituals do your dogs do?
For those of you who played along with the Disney game, here's the rub:
When asked to quickly think of which Disney character is your favorite, you typically and subconsciously will choose the one whose personality is the most like yours.
I've asked this question in numerous settings to numerous people: adults, children, boyfriends, friends, family, business associates, and in all my experience their answer is always spot on.
Like, "OMG, he is TOTALLY Baloo from the Jungle Book!!"
It's a fun party trick too. Try it at your social gathering, you will see what I mean. Remember it's most effective when the person asked has no idea why you are asking. Otherwise they may try to say they are a princess instead of a hyena.
P.S. I guess this means my personality is the most like a crazy mystical monkey. I'm ok with that.
Mine is Rafiki from the Lion King. He lives in a tree and is old and wise. I like him because he's funny and mysterious, very free spirited all knowing medicine man who keeps the pride together. And well let's face it he's pretty cool, kind of boho for a monkey. His name means "friend" in Swahili.
What's yours? Don't think too hard on it, just pick the first Disney character that jumps into your head. Don't forget it has to be a cartoon character.
Tomorrow I'll tell you why.
Hands down Pug is my favorite smell in the world. That smooshy face odor that emanates from their mopy heads, waxy ears, and soppy wrinkles.
It smells better than sex and babies. Murphy's oil soap, eucalyptus, and chocolate chip cookies fresh from the oven.
My nose delights in the circus of their smells.
I am an addict; I confess that I'm hooked on "p".
Plum likes to fall asleep nuzzling me w/ her head directly under my nose so I get a good whiff of what I imagine heaven must smell like.
I woke up this morning with a floppy pug ear on my pillow, directly under my nose. Somehow she had wedged herself into that empty space between me and the other side of the bed that's been vacant for years.
And for some reason I got that John Denver song stuck in my head -
"Sunshine on my shoulder makes me happy. Sunshine almost always makes me high."
See I talk a tough game, but deep down in the stillness of dawn I'm all, "Take Me Home Country Road" and Thank God I'm a country
All John Denver'isms aside - any discerning pug owner knows of what I speak. They understand a house just isn't a home without pug smells emanating from every room. And I think it means more after going without for a long period of time.
It must be the same feeling for rescues, how they must feel to have a warm human hand touch them kindly after years of neglect and abandonment.
I am realizing it's not just the delicious pug eau'dor that I have missed so much about having a pug around.
It's the way dogs live in the moment. With no thought of the scars from their past or worries for their future. They just exist totally in the here and now. They don't think much beyond their next meal, walk, or belly rub.....and on a daily basis they remind us to do the same.
Ah, Canis Lupus - my second favorite Latin term that starts with a c and ends in an s.
Think back to when you owned your first dog and all the life lessons they taught you. Things you experienced for the first time: responsibility, playfulness, unconditional love....things you still carry with you today.
In their company, your senses feel more alive. More acute. More aware.
Quite simply, I'm a better person with a dog in my life.
And having a pug in the house again reminds me that I am soft.
I was merrily scrolling through the TV Guide channel tonight with my clicker and at first glance I thought the movie, "the Savages" said the Sausages. Then I scrolled down a bit further and misread "the Forsaken" as the Foreskin.
A few hours later I was on the yahoo homepage looking at the days top 10 popular searches and I thought it was really odd that #7 was deep throat. Only upon a 2nd closer squinted look at the monitor did I realize that it wasn't deep throat at all....it was strep throat.
Not sure what all of that means, but I have a couple strong theories.
If you were to look at my coffee table right now here's what you would see:
A stack of movies and books that I'm either in the middle of watching and reading or they are up next in the hopper:
• Rudyard Kipling the Complete verse
• The Tarzan collection 6 DVD box set
• Alice Walker the Color Purple book
• The Color Purple movie by Steven Spielberg
• Thorn Birds book by Colleen McCullough
• Thorn Birds miniseries DVD
I'm in this weird mode where I want to watch the movie and then read the book or vice versa to see how much of the story I can dissect and resect.
• Nail polish in bare rose
• Appointment reminder cards and post it notes
• Remote controls
• Candy dish
• Pugsley Easter egg
• Bag of choco chip cookies from Trader Joes (best ever so soft and chewy)
So what does your coffee table say?
Mine says that I love to get lost in epic tales both visual and imaginary set in exotic places deep in the jungles of Africa, India, and the Australian Outback. I love a backdrop of lush plant life and wild animals.
It might say that this is my idea of a perfect world:
That I love the idea of simple living, of shouting Ungawa! to call the jungle animals for help and having a husband who doesn't speak much more than, "me Tarzan you Jane" but he is still be able to provide physical and emotional support while rescuing me from danger and fulfill all of his other manly duties. That I like swinging from trees, wearing loin cloths, and fighting off weary travelers who may be trying to steal my secret treasure in the elephant graveyard. Perhaps it might say that I am someone who secretly fantasizes about living in the jungle with a monkey named Cheeta and a son named Boy where the only other females I have to worry about skanking in on my tall, dark, hairy man - are the native women from the Zambezi tribe..... and you know Tarzan isn't gonna get with them.
It's the same thing with Mowgli and the Jungle book only more singular than familial but certainly that is all about the landscape and communing with four leggeds. And riki tiki tavi too despite my fear of snakes but the mongoose always wins in the end.
It might say I am someone who is drawn to stories about forbidden love, unrequited love, lust for noble ambition, relentless passion, unfulfilled desire, and apparently someone who feels oddly connected to the physical and emotional struggles of the depressed African American females in rural Georgia circa 1930's.
That I am drawn to characters who spend their lives chasing down the one thing that they desire most - even if they have to die doing it. Like the thorn bird that sings just once in its life. From the moment it leaves its nest, it searches for a thorn tree and never rests until it's found one. And then it sings... more sweetly than any other creature on the face of the earth. And singing, it impales itself on the longest, sharpest thorn. But, as it dies, it rises above its own agony, to outsing the lark and the nightingale. The thorn bird pays its life for just one song, but the whole world stills to listen, and God in his heaven smiles.
That I like my nails polished but natural so you can't tell that they are
I like things that smell good
Things that taste good, that comfort me
I like a soft glow and warm atmosphere
That I miss my dog and still think about him every day..
It might say I am someone who gets a lot of headaches. As evident by my strewn about post it notes with quotes from the likes of Hamlet next to the Tylenol bottle scribbled with things I want to remember. Things like, "There is nothing either good or bad but thinking makes it so". Hence the headaches. And the irony. Oh the irony.
I have decided that with the invention of social networks, blogs, forums, instant messenger, chat, text, and email -- we are living in a world where a whole new language is spoken, one that is not yet defined by Webster's Dictionary. Thus, it's a world where everything is wide open for interpretation.
Obviously I get it, being the Internet junkie that I am. I understand the need for convenience and how it came to be. The need for faster, real time communication as commerce, careers, and our very livelihoods, lifestyles, and friendships have been migrated online. On the other end of the coin however, as someone who has a true appreciation and respect for the English language, at times I have to admit that I find it vexing.
It's the end of the English language as we know it my friends.
The dropping of consonants and vowels and the changing of whole words into annoying acronyms and abbreviations out of pure laziness. Acronyms like: LOL, WTF, OMG, UR, IMHO, 4ever, Wever, CUZ, B/C,
I myself am guilty of using them and even *shudder* of typing "Your" instead of a "You're" in late night text exchanges just because it was easier than looking for the apostrophe button in the dark.
Compounding the issue now is the fact that its real live adults in their 30's, 40's, and beyond frequenting these virtual venues to communicate and in the process are picking up a language that was invented by teenagers on AOL IM in the mid 90's.
Punctuation has also taken a hit. Perhaps the worst is those annoying and oh so cryptic ....... dots left in between words or worst of all at the end of a sentence.
Of course the problem with all of this interpersonal communication is interpretation or rather [intentional sarcastic dots inserted here] ........misinterpretation.
What exactly does it mean when someone leaves ......[dots] at the end of a comment or sentence anyway?
Keep Reading » » »
Let's use this as a hypothetical: Say I post a status update on my Facebook that reads:
Lori thinks the government should legalize marijuana to help stimulate the economy
(because let's face it, it would)
And then a friend posts a comment to my status update that says:
Friend I don't know if that's a good idea......
Now - I would read that comment and based purely on the dots alone I would sense some sort of disapproval, judgment, or sarcasm from my friend towards my free thinking idea.
In a normal conversation this would be a great opportunity to get into a thought provoking debate that in person or on the telephone may go something more like this:
By legalizing pot the government would be able to tax the shit out of it and pump that money right back into the economy, and it would still cost less than what people pay on the street. At the same time they would be putting drug dealers out of business and regulating a multi billion dollar industry, the same way they have with alcohol and cigarettes which are actually much worse for one's health.
And then the debater would have an opportunity to counter with their points on why they think it wouldn't work and both parties would feel that their points had been well made, heard, and valued with some sort of agreement to disagree but still having respect for the other's beliefs.
Instead - because Facebook only allows so many characters in a status update you are limited to any points you want to make there. And in return you receive indiscernible comments that are left wide open for interpretation........................
For me personally I don't leave ......[dots] haphazardly. I only dot when I am trying to transition in a hurry or to denote a to-be-continued or more-to-come indicator and limit it to that. But very rarely will I dot at the end of an open-ended comment as sort of a passive question mark that may be misconstrued as judgment, sarcasm, or general vaugery.
In fact I feel rather strongly that ....... [dots] are truly just the modern day equivalent of the Yada, Yada, Yada. When someone is giving you the ........[dots] I think they are really just Yada Yada'ing over the best part.
« « « Finished Reading
Remember you are dust and to dust you shall return.
"From our earliest days, we are brought to Church to get ashes - parents will even bring babies, to have them dabbed with dust. You feel somehow left out if you don't get them. But I think there is something else to it, too. Something that cuts to the heart of life -- and death.
One day, a man got a call from his doctor, telling him that he had lung cancer. The doctor told him that there was nothing they could do. The man hung up the phone, and looked at his family, seated around the kitchen table, stunned. And he smiled. "Be of good cheer," he said, "None of us gets out of this world alive." My friends, that is what Ash Wednesday says to us. It is the great leveler.
Today, we are not brilliant or creative or dynamic or sexy or strong. We are not beautiful or powerful. We are not rich or poor, healthy or sick. We are not young or old. We are just simple sinners. We are made of dust, and to dust we will return."
I told myself I would wait and not aggressively start looking for another job until the new year. Until I had a chance to decompress and reevaluate some things. Now that I'm back out there looking and starting to get more serious in my job hunt, I realize just how bad it is right now.
Forget about being able to make money at something you really love to do. Which for me would be something like a webmaster or blog writer for the ASPCA or Humane Society. Something I can really get behind and feel like I'm making a difference at the things that matter to me and get paid for it.. That would have been a challenge before this recession we are in, but now it's a slim to none possibility. In this freefalling economy the reality is you are lucky to have ANY job, keep the job you have and not get laid off, let go, canned, dissolved, acquired, bankrupt, or foreclosed on.
As I write this, ironically , President Obama is delivering a news conference on the very subject about a proposed bill to provide states relief. He is talking about how the job situation is going to get worse before it stabilizes. I am hearing murmurs of a 2 year plan amid my typing. Lovely.
These are just some of the companies that have laid off workers in the past 2 months:
AOL Time Warner , Sprint Nextel, Philips, IBM, Microsoft, Motorola, Google, Oracle , Dell, WebMD, Wall Street Journal, CBS Interactive, Yahoo, Sony, Netflix, Viacom, AT&T , Adobe, TiVo, Palm, Sun Microsystems, Wired.com, Circuit City , Honeywell, Zappos, LinkedIn, Nokia, Ticketmaster, GE, Kimberly Clark, Hertz, Intel Corp., Pfizer, Estee Lauder, Allergan, Cisco Systems, Electronic Arts, Comcast , Goodrich, Macy's, Sears, Ford, Black and Decker, Walt Disney , Starbucks, Boeing, Target, Texas Instruments, General Motors, Home Depot, Abercrombie & Fitch, Harley-Davidson, Xerox, Best Buy, Walgreen, Tyson Foods, Las Vegas Sands, Omnicom Group , Bristol-Myers Squibb, Merrill Lynch, Charles Schwab, Bank of America , Whirlpool, Procter & Gamble, Praxair, Anheuser-Busch Co., Staples , AT&T, Viacom, JPMorgan Chase, PepsiCo, Bank of New York, Boeing, Citigroup, Morgan Stanley, Mattel.
Even Starbucks is laying off. It is a pretty depressing thought to know that I couldn't even go sling latte's right now if I wanted to.
And for the jobs that are out there - the competition is so fierce that those handful of employers are being inundated with thousands of resumes from candidates with more experience, a better education, and they are willing to travel further and take bigger pay cuts.
At this rate I feel flattered that my resume is even making it to the hiring manager's desks and I am getting called for meetings and interviews. I am, but none of them are really panning out. I'm just not desperate enough yet to relocate, commute longer than 2 hours a day or accept a lesser position from where I've worked myself up to over the years. Lateral or better. That's true now but it may not be the case in another few months. Plus, I am getting restless.
For some reason I am not freaking out about it. I feel like these things always work themselves out in time. And fortunately I didn't get myself into any positions that I'm unable to handle. Like commit to a mortgage that I can't afford. Thank God I didn't when I was thinking about it a couple years ago. I know one thing, when I do land a new job and I move I will be renting not buying. Because no job is secure.
The unemployment website is so overloaded with people being out of work and trying to file their weekly benefits claim that the site crashes every Sunday and you can't even file your claim until Monday. When you try to phone in your claim it's all circuits are busy, please try again later and they disconnect you because the call center can't handle the call volume. Because the state can't afford to invest in the technology to upgrade their website or hire more staff. In fact they are laying off state workers. That's how bad it is here. How bad is it where you are?
Maybe I should look into that foot model gig after all..at least I could get free pedicures.
It's funny the way you don't always see clearly when you're in the middle of a thing, living it. Like an inferno burning all around you, usually out of control.. And then once you've had some separation from the thing...stepped back from the flames and the smoke has cleared, I suppose you gain a little perspective on it. Reality seeps in and you wonder how you could have missed something so obvious. Maybe obvious to everyone else around, but you.
I look at recent pictures of Pugsley now and I am kind of taken aback at how aged and fragile he appeared in them. But the weird thing is.......I never saw it while he was here with me, not even near the end.
I mean on a mental level I saw the graying in his face and noticed the slowness in his gait. Medically of course I was aware of his condition and prognosis... but when I looked at him everyday I only saw him in the same way I'd seen him for the last 14 years - how he looked in his prime when he was 6 or 7 years old. Long before the ravages of age and cancer took their toll.
It's hard to explain or even to understand how my mind's eye had become totally blinded by that piece of my heart that only saw him through loving and hopeful eyes.
It's the same with people in our lives who we love, and with love that is flawed. We don't always see the flaws or the signs. We can know things intellectually and see them on the surface, but the heart.....the heart has a different way of seeing; more powerful than the brain or reason, consequence or injury.
I guess sometimes no matter how much we know something isn't quite the way it appears, we have this overriding capacity to only see what we want to see. Or to be more exact, to not see what we don't want to see.
I don't know where I'm going with this and I don't really have a point or a lesson learned. But it does make me think of the Tunisian desert and that line from the English Patient, "Betrayals during war are childlike compared with our betrayals during peace. New lovers are nervous and tender, yet smash everything- for the heart is an organ of fire."
Look who came to visit today; the Woolly Bugger Caterpillar, or Pyrrhactia Isabella. And right on time to tell me what kind of winter we have in store. As I've blogged before (every fall /winter) according to legend you can read this guy's 13 body segments which are said to mimic the 13 weeks of winter. Over the years I've found it to be more accurate in predicting the winter weather patterns than meteorologists and even the Farmer's Almanac. I love that you can predict nature by nature, and this little creature can assimilate to his natural surroundings. It's so macrobiotic. And p.s. in another life I could have been an entomologist because the science of things fascinates me.....and I am not afraid of creepy crawlies like bugs or spiders.
You just need to read his markings: the longer the black bands are - the longer, colder, snowier and more severe the winter will be. Also, the position of the bands indicates which part of winter will be the coldest.
So now I'm going to predict the weather according to this caterpillar for the North East. I can't help it, I am part Cherokee. This is what we do..prattle on about folklore and the old ways. Later I may smoke my peace pipe and burn some sage to celebrate. Just kidding ;)
See how the black bands on his head are longer than the black bands on his tail? This means the first part of winter will be more severe and the tail end of winter will be more mild. Overall he has more black than brown which means it will be a colder, snowier winter this year.
Now you can come back to this entry in March and tell me to bite it if I was wrong. But I don't think I will be.....the wooly bugger is a pretty reliable source.
As I mentioned I took the Myers Briggs test. My results indicate that I am an INFJ the rarest of all types. Only 1.5% of the population are INFJ's.
I have to say it sounds mostly true. I've bold typed the points that jumped out at me as eerily true.
Introverted Intuitive Feeling Judging
Strength of the preferences %
Introverted - 11%
Intuitive - 38%
Feeling - 12%
Judging - 22%
Qualitative analysis of your type formula
• slightly expressed introvert
• moderately expressed intuitive personality
• slightly expressed feeling personality
• slightly expressed judging personality
INFJs are true introverts, who can only be emotionally intimate and fulfilled with a chosen few from among their long-term friends, family, or obvious "soul mates." While instinctively courting the personal and organizational demands continually made upon them by others, at intervals INFJs will suddenly withdraw into themselves, sometimes shutting out even their intimates. This apparent paradox is a necessary escape valve for them, providing both time to rebuild their depleted resources and a filter to prevent the emotional overload to which they are so susceptible as inherent "givers." As a pattern of behavior, it is perhaps the most confusing aspect of the enigmatic INFJ character to outsiders, and hence the most often misunderstood -- particularly by those who have little experience with this rare type.
Idealist Portrait of the Counselor (INFJ)
Counselors have an exceptionally strong desire to contribute to the welfare of others, and find great personal fulfillment interacting with people, nurturing their personal development, guiding them to realize their human potential. Although they are happy working at jobs (such as writing) that require solitude and close attention, Counselors do quite well with individuals or groups of people, provided that the personal interactions are not superficial, and that they find some quiet, private time every now and then to recharge their batteries. Counselors are both kind and positive in their handling of others; they are great listeners and seem naturally interested in helping people with their personal problems. Not usually visible leaders, Counselors prefer to work intensely with those close to them, especially on a one-to-one basis, quietly exerting their influence behind the scenes.
Counselors are scarce, little more than one percent of the population, and can be hard to get to know, since they tend not to share their innermost thoughts or their powerful emotional reactions except with their loved ones. They are highly private people, with an unusually rich, complicated inner life. Friends or colleagues who have known them for years may find sides emerging which come as a surprise. Not that Counselors are flighty or scattered; they value their integrity a great deal, but they have mysterious, intricately woven personalities which sometimes puzzle even them.
Counselors tend to work effectively in organizations. They value staff harmony and make every effort to help an organization run smoothly and pleasantly. They understand and use human systems creatively, and are good at consulting and cooperating with others. As employees or employers, Counselors are concerned with people's feelings and are able to act as a barometer of the feelings within the organization.
Blessed with vivid imaginations, Counselors are often seen as the most poetical of all the types, and in fact they use a lot of poetic imagery in their everyday language. Their great talent for language-both written and spoken-is usually directed toward communicating with people in a personalized way. Counselors are highly intuitive and can recognize another's emotions or intentions - good or evil - even before that person is aware of them. Counselors themselves can seldom tell how they came to read others' feelings so keenly. This extreme sensitivity to others could very well be the basis of the Counselor's remarkable ability to experience a whole array of psychic phenomena.
As an INFJ, your primary mode of living is focused internally, where you take things in primarily via intuition. Your secondary mode is external, where you deal with things according to how you feel about them, or how they fit with your personal value system.
INFJs are gentle, caring, complex and highly intuitive individuals. Artistic and creative, they live in a world of hidden meanings and possibilities.
INFJs place great importance on having things orderly and systematic in their outer world. They put a lot of energy into identifying the best system for getting things done, and constantly define and re-define the priorities in their lives. On the other hand, INFJs operate within themselves on an intuitive basis which is entirely spontaneous. They know things intuitively, without being able to pinpoint why, and without detailed knowledge of the subject at hand. They are usually right, and they usually know it. Consequently, INFJs put a tremendous amount of faith into their instincts and intuitions. This is something of a conflict between the inner and outer worlds, and may result in the INFJ not being as organized as other Judging types tend to be. Or we may see some signs of disarray in an otherwise orderly tendency, such as a consistently messy desk.
INFJs have uncanny insight into people and situations. They get "feelings" about things and intuitively understand them. As an extreme example, some INFJs report experiences of a psychic nature, such as getting strong feelings about there being a problem with a loved one, and discovering later that they were in a car accident. This is the sort of thing that other types may scorn and scoff at, and the INFJ themselves does not really understand their intuition at a level which can be verbalized. Consequently, most INFJs are protective of their inner selves, sharing only what they choose to share when they choose to share it. They are complex individuals, who are quite private and typically difficult to understand. INFJs hold back part of themselves, and can be secretive.
But the INFJ is as genuinely warm as they are complex. INFJs hold a special place in the heart of people who they are close to, who are able to see their special gifts and depth of caring. INFJs are concerned for people's feelings, and try to be gentle to avoid hurting anyone. They are very sensitive to conflict, and cannot tolerate it very well. Situations which are charged with conflict may drive the normally peaceful INFJ into a state of agitation or charged anger. They may tend to internalize conflict into their bodies, and experience health problems when under a lot of stress.
Because the INFJ has such strong intuitive capabilities, they trust their own instincts above all else. This may result in an INFJ stubborness and tendency to ignore other people's opinions. They believe that they're right. On the other hand, INFJ is a perfectionist who doubts that they are living up to their full potential. INFJs are rarely at complete peace with themselves - there's always something else they should be doing to improve themselves and the world around them. They believe in constant growth, and don't often take time to revel in their accomplishments. They have strong value systems, and need to live their lives in accordance with what they feel is right. In deference to the Feeling aspect of their personalities, INFJs are in some ways gentle and easy going. Conversely, they have very high expectations of themselves, and frequently of their families. They don't believe in compromising their ideals.
INFJ is a natural nurturer; patient, devoted and protective. They make loving parents and usually have strong bonds with their offspring. They have high expectations of their children, and push them to be the best that they can be. This can sometimes manifest itself in the INFJ being hard-nosed and stubborn. But generally, children of an INFJ get devoted and sincere parental guidance, combined with deep caring.
In the workplace, the INFJ usually shows up in areas where they can be creative and somewhat independent. They have a natural affinity for art, and many excel in the sciences, where they make use of their intuition. INFJs can also be found in service-oriented professions. They are not good at dealing with minutia or very detailed tasks. The INFJ will either avoid such things, or else go to the other extreme and become enveloped in the details to the extent that they can no longer see the big picture. An INFJ who has gone the route of becoming meticulous about details may be highly critical of other individuals who are not.
The INFJ individual is gifted in ways that other types are not. Life is not necessarily easy for the INFJ, but they are capable of great depth of feeling and personal achievement.
If you take the test, make sure you come back to comments and tell what type you are.
I was recently taking the Myers Briggs test for kicks and giggles. But also because there's a lot of useful information that can be helpful in explaining to a potential employer what kind of worker you are. e.g. "I am a self starter who works well independently but also functions well in a team environment," etc. etc.
What I like about this particular test is that it's not about how people perceive you per say - it's about how you yourself perceive the world and make decisions. What drives you. Because even I have trouble figuring me out, at times. It's all based on Carl Jung's theories.
I actually take the test every couple years to see if my MB type has changed. Sometimes it does change slightly, which I suppose is good because it means I am still evolving.
Out of the 72 questions posed, most were very easy for me to answer with no hesitation, such as:
After prolonged socializing you feel you need to get away and be alone
You like to be engaged in an active and fast-paced job
You prefer to act immediately rather than speculate about various options
You avoid being bound by obligations
You think that almost everything can be analyzed
But there were two questions I had a really hard time answering with a simple yes or no:
You are a person somewhat reserved and distant in communication
This one is tricky. It's a yes and a no. I've been told that I am perceived as being reserved, but I've also been accused of over-communicating.
This is because I am reserved in professional and social situations with people who I don't know or trust. And certainly around people who have given me reasons to not trust them. I proceed with caution and reservation in these cases. However, when I am in relationships with people who are close or here on the blog my where communication is dispensed at my own discretion, I am wide open -- but to the degree that I choose.
For this one then, I had to answer no.
You trust reason rather than feelings
This was a tough one because I rely a lot on my intuition which has rarely steered me wrong. Intuition is more of a feeling. There's no reason to it and it can't be easily explained how I know things. I just know. However, I also have a deep seeded practical side which usually allows me to separate logic from emotion in situations of conflict.
For instance: Say you are really feeling a guy you've been seeing and you want more but you're getting frustrated that he doesn't, and you're not sure why. Then one day you're hanging out at his house and you notice a pink razor in his bathroom and a bottle of White Zinfandel in his fridge. You reason that either he's suddenly turned gay or he's had another female sleeping over. Because honestly.... how many men do you know that sit around sipping rosé and shaving their 5:00 o'clock shadows with a pink Schick? Either way, logic tells you that the outcome cannot be good. In that situation, I would push my feelings aside and scram. Reason trumps feelings.
For this one I answered yes.
I will post my MBTI results (and a link to the test) tomorrow.
Scary times at the grocery store, $4.37 for a gallon of milk. Then on the way home I stopped to fuel up and noticed that regular unleaded is the same exact price. I suppose the inflated milk prices are a result of the cost to deliver it to mass market. How are the poor dairy farmers surviving in this climate, I wonder?
At this point it really would be cheaper to just buy a cow and let it graze in the back yard. Then I'd be able to pump my own milk and there'd be no need for gas in the lawn mower.
Plus, Pugsley likes cows.
Do you ever feel life's momentum slowing down almost to a grindingly eerie halt? As if the universe is trying to give you a brief reprieve to plan for the big storm that's about to hit. It's imminent. You know its coming but you just don't know when. The air is still and the birds have stopped singing, gone to seek shelter.
So you live in this temporary state of fear and panic. You busy yourself battening down the hatches getting all your ducks in a row. You say all the things you need to say. Do all the things you need to do. And you try your best to ready yourself knowing when the big one hits there will still be things you overlooked or couldn't have possibly prepared for or known were coming.
Imagine there you are sitting in your living room the sky is cryptic shades of blue and black. The television is making that scary beeping sound warning you to take cover, go under ground, and brace yourself .
They call it the calm before the storm but there is nothing really calm about it, is there?
Metaphorically speaking, it's the not knowing of things that can drive one mad. The anxiety and vortex of emotions of knowing something awful is looming and it's not a matter of if but when. It's enough to make people rife with paranoia, delusions and other unkindly behavior.
Like not knowing when a tornado or hurricane is coming or the last time a lover will hold you in his arms, when you will lose your livelihood or your best friend.
If you're lucky when the storm has passed and you've survived, there's a community of friends waiting to help you clear out of the wreckage. To provide temporary shelter and help you rebuild, to start over again.
When you're caught up in it you can still touch other people's lives but you're temporarily unable to touch your own. In the interim there's not much to be done but sit back and wait.
It's true of almost everything I can think of...
The sun, air crafts, a leader's rise to power. Roller coasters, euphoric love, moods, musical notes. Skin elasticity, pug tails, appetite, bouncing balls, the stock market, and erections...just to name a few.
Can you think of anything that actually defies this logic?
Sorry I haven't been blogging much lately. I've been busy running around from doctor to doctor for tests and more tests only to still not have any answers....
I'm getting really fed up with doctors and insurance companies who don't want to pay for necessary tests because they are "new" and not considered "widely accepted in the medical community" even though the tests will be able to pinpoint with a 97% accuracy rate exactly what kind of intestinal disorder I have....if I have one.
Then there are the doctors who think their time is more valuable than yours, and okay.... maybe it is if they are out there saving lives but most days they are just treating poor schlubs like myself who are trying to get to the bottom of some pesky ailments. And they make you wait weeks and weeks for an appointment because they can't accommodate your schedule sooner and you finally get your chance and go in with a full list of questions you had in mind but after about 2 minutes you feel them trying to "wrap it up" and push you out the door with a prescription for a cream and a follow-up visit in 2 more weeks....so they can get the next one in. Another co-pay. And they do see you every week or two but each time you talk to them you notice they are asking the same questions that they asked in your first few appointments because they are like factory workers farming one poor patient in after another so they can't even remember your case without looking through notes. So I get annoyed at having to repeat myself but I get hip to the game and learn to bring in a list of questions in writing and I'm persistent and don't leave until I get answers. This pisses them off when I push gently by displaying a genuine concern for my health with a firm tone to let them know I want answers and I'm not leaving until I get them. That's about the time they start thinking I'm a lunatic and I see them scribbling notes on my chart.
"Have you ever tried antidepressants?"
And then I stop them dead in their tracks. I don't need antidepressants because I'm not depressed. Maybe my bowels and small intestines are depressed but I know what that feels like and can tell you it's not the case here. And it's incredibly frustrating to see them not believe me.
I'm not depressed. I'm in pain and I'm anxious because after 4 months, 3 doctors, and numerous tests I still have no answers regarding the source of pain. So it continues and I'm getting cranky. It actually is enough to make one depressed when they had not been previously!
I want answers. I want to know why my small intestine is inflamed with ulcerations. Want to know why I've lost 10 pounds since my last physical in May despite the fact that I eat 3 square meals a day and snack in between. I want to know why I itch all over from head to toe. Why do I have a metallic taste in my mouth like I just swallowed a wad of aluminum foil? Why do I have random bruises all over my legs but I haven't bumped into anything? Why do I keep getting weird rashes on my trunk? Why are there recurring infections that come on suddenly and then go away? These are not symptoms of depression and they are not psychosomatic. I'm sorry but if I had that kind of power to conjure up some physical symptoms on myself I would make it so my boobs grew 2 cup sizes or so I'd have orgasms every time I moved a certain way on my chair...I can assure you I would not be inflicting these other ailments onto myself that I've been dealing with.
I just find it incredibly sad that we live in a day and age when medical professionals who have not explored or considered all possibilities are so quick to
offer push synthetic psychoactive substances for lack of any other diagnosis. Now, if they had ponied up some medical marijuana to help ease the abdominal pain and increase my appetite with the munchies.... I would have been all over that shit.
I feel really weird lately. Not physically or emotionally, I've been feeling different spiritually like something epic is taking over, a big wave of change sweeping through the lives of those I touch and who touch me back. Like a tornado all at once, so much change and I'm standing in the eye of the storm waiting to see where I end up from it after the dust settles. Or maybe the dust never settles and the lulls in between the storms become necessary interruptions. Everywhere I look I'm surrounded by bittersweet. How could I not be affected by it when I'm standing right smack dab in the middle of the windy funnels?
People are getting married, babies are being born. Our loyal canine companions are getting older and starting to wind down. There is sadness mixed with excitement. New teams are being formed, task forces, friends meeting friends. Worlds colliding. Old stories are ending and new chapters are about to unfold. It's ominous and eerie but the excitement of it reminds me that it's never too late for things to happen, for things to change. Change is necessary like lulls and interruptions in order for us to grow and fulfill our destiny. But change hurts, we all know how much. Because usually it's accompanied by letting go of the familiar, of something or someone we love or once loved or that loved us back. It's scary so it's easy to resist and we get lazy and want to be the good guys so it's easier to put off the inevitable, to wait for things to naturally happen on their own because somehow it will be easier that way. And it never is but it's still necessary.
When Pugs was a little pup and I made the discovery that he watches television, I mean he really watches television paying careful attention to moving animals both animated and real - I bought a bunch of movies that I thought he would like and I'd leave them play on the VCR while I was at work so he could watch them from his crate and not be lonely. Spoiled I know, even from the get go, right? One of his favorites was the Lion King. It was our tradition to make a pug fort and watch it together. I swear he knew all the characters by name: Rafiki, Simba, Mufasa, Scar, and Nala, all of them. All I had to do was say one of their names and he'd go dashing towards the television, looking for them. One time he dislocated his knee by getting too excited and body slamming the entertainment center. It's hard to believe that was almost 13 years ago...Time flew, we moved several times, went through relationships, heart aches, deaths in the family and through it all Pugs was there and at least once a year we'd watch the Lion King together. I stopped the tradition a few years back when his hearing started to go and he couldn't hear the songs or me urging him to go see. But I think we need to watch it together again real soon, because his eyes still work and if he catches a glance of the cartoon or if I sit him in front of the television, I know he'll get involved and start twisting and turning, like old times. Good times.
My brother's faithful beagle, Maggie just turned 17 years old. She too has been by his side for close to two decades. Recently, her kidneys have stopped working, she's almost totally blind and her back legs are failing. She will only eat food out of a baby bottle now and she takes dialysis shots at home every day, twice a day. Everyone is shocked that she has held on this long. Miraculously, she doesn't seem to feel pain but she does get scared from being blind and from not being able to move when she wants to. And every time we think she only has a few days, she surprises us all and hangs on longer, will squeak a toy or eat some solid food or something to make you question the quality of life. How do you know? I think we all know now including him, but he wants her to go on her own, preferably when he is there and not have to take her to get the shot. I saw her on Sunday for what will probably be the last time. Poor old diggy is still hanging on but in rough shape. I sense that she is only hanging on out of love for my brother and nothing more. I think he needs to have a talk with her from the heart and tell her its okay for her to go. That he will be okay now because he was a wife and a baby on the way. It's almost like she has held on all this time to make sure he would be okay without her, that he wouldn't be sad and lonely. Dogs are so selfless that way and its so freaking touching and heart wrenching but it's clear and necessary that it's time.
It's just like the Lion King and the Circle of Life, that delicate balance of nature that bonds all animals together. And I know somehow on some spiritual level that the ones we love are gifts that we're given. Teachers put here to help us prepare for even bigger things and greater loves. They can teach us to be selfless and patient, responsible and compassionate and maybe the most important lesson of all; They teach us how to let go, even when we don't really want to. Not all are meant to be with us here, forever. But it doesn't mean that they have any less impact on our hearts or our minds...
Of all my senses, my sense of smell is by far the sharpest. Eyes? 20/20 in one eye and 20/40 in the other. One eye is near sighted and the other eye is far sighted so they sort of fight each other out all the time making things okay but blurry and strenuous. Ears? Either one too many violent ear infections as a child or one too many a rock concert as a teenager. In any event, it equates to being a little hard of hearing. Ah...but my sense of smell, my sense of smell rivals that of a wolf. This can be both a blessing and a curse....
As soon as I hopped on the train this morning it hit me like a ton of bricks. The smell like someone had just shit themselves. And they very well may have. I was careful to only let my gabardine Banana Republic suit make contact with the seats and that's all, no skin, no cell phone, no anything that was in direct contact with any orifices. True, I'm a country girl and don't trek into the city often, but this raw stench was surely, inconceivably vile for anyone even the most hardened of daily city commuters. I stifled my yawns so none of the foul mattered fragments or particles in the air could find their way in. I had to remember not to stiffen up this time, keeping my neck loose but the defilement of community air did not make it easy I can assure you. I do secret chin tucks and neck rotations when nobody else is looking, in bathroom stalls mostly and now on Metro North. I immediately took out my Sephora lip gloss and start layering it on; it smells like cherry and it lingers on my lips helping to temporarily mask the offensive odors that surround me.
Today it's a pot luck of corporate suits like me, students and families. MTA spent a lot of money to redo the seats on the train. I liked the old seats a lot better, these are not very spine friendly for me, they actually propel the neck unnaturally forward, more so than an airplane. Not good for someone who just spent the last year in physical therapy trying to retrain her head to an ears-behind-shoulders position. No choice but to suck it up for the 2 hour ride.
I'm supposed to be meeting my boss 5 stops up from mine, but he can't find my car. He keeps calling my cell trying to find what car I'm in so we can sit together. But cell service keeps fading in and out so it disconnects and he calls again. The guy in front of me is trying to sleep, so every time the phone rings he turns around to give me dirty looks for disturbing him.
A tall unkempt looking woman in an ace bandage tries sitting in the seat next to me, but I politely explain that I'm holding the seat for my boss who is getting on at the next stop. No big deal, there are plenty of other seats for her to choose from. She chooses the one directly across from me. Great, what if my boss can't find me, she'll think I lied just to avoid letting her sit next to me.
Another call from the boss, naptime guy juts his head around and shoots me another look like daggers are flying out of his eyeballs...Boss can't find me but he's still trying. A new group of commuters get on and want to sit next to me but I have to tell them I'm holding the seat. I call him back but get no answer, I leave a message, and nap guy gets pissed again because I'm talking on my cell phone now. He lets out a loud sigh of displeasure....another stop at White Plains, the train is getting full -- a new group comes on at this point I realize I can't hold the seat for the boss anymore. People are walking by but before I can offer someone a seat, the woman across from me starts snapping and bitching.
"You know you're gonna have to give up that seat, your boss isn't coming!"
She was visibly disturbed with me.
"Yes, I'm aware of that, thank you"
"You've turned enough people away and it's just rude, you need to let someone sit there!"
She flips open her paper with a force that makes a loud flapping noise....
"Would YOU like to sit here??" I snapped back?
"No, I have a seat now! I don't' need a seat, why don't you give someone else a seat!"
Just then she stops a woman walking up the aisle, "There's a seat right there!" and she offers my seat to her before I can offer it myself".
She flips open her paper with a vengence again and I whip out my blackberry from its holster like a weapon and slink down into my seat.... I'm still trying not to make contact with my skin or keep my neck from folding. I gazed over at nap guy and he seemed amused that she let me have it. Beytoch! Who does she think she is....the superhero avenger of public transportation?
As it turns out, the woman she offered my seat to had put on way too much perfume, which you would think would be a good thing to help drown out the excrement of odors in the air, but in a totally opposite way it was just as bad. I basically had to breathe through a tiny opening of my mouth for the rest of the trip and was never so happy to see Grand Central in my life.
Whatever...it's not even spring yet but it's 70 degrees and sunny in NYC today, optimal weather! Life was good. So good in fact that I quickly forgot all the train drama and after my meetings even managed to do a little wandering around SOHO, ducking into some stores. I did a little damage to my credit card in Olive and Bette's and Zabari. I splurged on a pair of Joes Jeans (the Rocker style) and some Michael Stars tops. Before catching the 6 Uptown (where a very nice marine bought my fare because he said he needed some good karma, how totally random), I popped into MAC and bought a new eye shadow, the color is called "Smut". Awesome. I think I just bought it for the name. That and the lady said it works well with green eyes.
Oddly enough, the New York Subway was the cleanest, most friendly ride.
The train was full again on the way home; I got a two-seater and tucked my bags under the seat. Next to me sat an older guy with a nervous twitch but he looked normal and didn't smell. Heading out of the city, we had to move to the upper section of the train because the back of the train doors don't open in the final stops. As I got up to move to the front of the train I noticed my leg was stuck on something. It was a big wad of green gum and it was stuck right to my ass! After I scraped it off with my train schedule, I moved up to the section of the train where I had to ride out the remainder of my trip, I was immediately struck by the port-0-potty like smell. It was the perfect mixture of fermented urine and moldy ass, with maybe a hint of popcorn thrown in.
I had the awesome pleasure of holding a newborn baby today. It’s not something I’ve done much of so far, maybe 3 times before. It’s amazing how much power a 7 pound infant can wield, commanding the attention of a crowded room, new parents and grandparents bursting with pride, overflowing with joy. Examining every gesture, every sound, every moment, their lives forever changed. It’s a beautiful thing. It’s one of those rare moments in life you can’t help but be awestruck, genuinely choked up at the wonder of it all.
Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with my God daughter and toddlers her age and older kids. But there’s something really special and magical about a newborn whose age can still be measured in hours, whose weight is still the same as it was in the womb.
She was so soft and new, so delicate and fragile but hearty and strong. With pink pursed lips, velvety thin hair and see through skin. Her wispy eyebrows and scrunched up face, rosy red cheeks and wrinkled hands, her tiny little outfits and swaddling cloth, pink caps covering her precious coned head. This perfect little angel so sweet but sturdy, her floppy head already learning to support itself, her curiosity tempered only by her overwhelming urge to sleep.
She rested so sound and full of peace, waking here and there to a brand new world of foreign sights, sounds and smells. She’s already learned to find solace in the unfamiliar, with the familiar love her parents bestow. And grandparents, uncles and aunts, nephews, cousins and friends, all to support, protect and cherish this brand new soul.
I could have eaten her up in that moment, in my arms imbibing her newness, her snuggly wonder and innocent charm. I could live to kiss her chubby cheeks, breathe in her fragrant hair, and tickle her tiny toes. When you're an infant you live in the moment without knowing any other way. You have no past to regret or future to fear. When we’re blessed to see a newborn experience that moment......if even for a very brief moment, we become filled with comfort, hope and grace.
Why is it that I can look at Pugsley's sweet gray face and see how much he's aged, but in a lot of ways he still looks like a puppy to me?
Why is it the weekdays drag and the weekends fly?
Why is it no matter how fast I eat, I can never make it to the bottom of my bowl of Froot Loops without some of them getting soggy?
Why is it the other week I was ready to stop talking but somehow you wiggled back, in a bigger way?
Why is it I adore my friends children to pieces, I want to eat them up I love them so. I even feel a twinges of sadness that I don't have one or two of my own little monkeys to climb all over me and yet when I go home at the end of our day there is an equally big part of me that's glad I still have my freedom?
Why is it that fathers can make you laugh and mothers can make you cry?
Why is it I can go weeks and months without a breakout but as soon as there is some event I want to look good for, I get the biggest zit pop up out of nowhere?
Why is it I can walk into Sephora needing one $15 item but I leave with $100 worth of make up and hair supplies that I don't really need?
Why is it that I can't fall asleep when you're in my bed?
Why is it that I can spend entire weekends on the couch and be happy as a clam?
Why is it that I didn't feel what I thought I'd feel?
Why is it that I excel at troubleshooting and executing long drawn out complicated tasks, but I suck at the simplest of chores like vacuuming the house or keeping my closets organized?
Why is it there are so many back stabbers and ass lickers in the world?
Why is it a $50.00 arrangement of flowers lasts about 2 days but the $9.99 grocery store bouquet lasts for weeks...even if you forget to water it?
Why is it that I have more care to stay than will to go?
Why is it when you've been with one person for a long time you end up being repelled by the very things that once attracted you to them in the first place?
Why is it that the grass isn't always greener but sometimes the yard has a nicer view and a landscape that's more suited to your way of living?
Why is it human nature to always want what we can't have and then once we have it we realize we didn't want it that badly to begin with? Why are we the only animals on the planet that live with this kind of gluttoness remorse? Animals are content to take what they need and nothing more. Hunt, eat, mate, and sleep. End of story.
Why is it I can watch the same movie 100 times and always pick up on something different that I hadn't caught before?
Why is it that men can love sports as much as they love women.....and sometimes more?
Why is it that I never run out of things to say?
I’m sitting on the Metro North railroad, destination...... Grand Central Station, heading into NYC for a meeting. There’s a guy on my left who smells like ass and an even sketchier guy on my right wearing an ace bandage on his head. He’s now wrapping a red bandana around his kneecap that’s bleeding, looks like he got into some kind of scuff the night before. Got to love public transportation. I try not inhale with my mouth open lest some freakish germs seep in and I make every attempt to not let my skin make direct contact with any of the train surfaces.
I seriously don’t know how people can do this everyday. Though, I think if I did I would never lack writing material. Its one of the best people watching places of all. A a mix of tourists, mothers and daughters on shopping excursions, business men and women reading papers, checking blackberrys, seniors, families, students, would be models and actors training it in for auditions, studying their lines, listening to their ipods. Each town and city we pass through has its own cast of characters. The ace bandage guy is deep in thought, sighing, now reading a paperback novel. I glance over to see what it is but I can’t tell. Then there is little old me. Stuck somewhere between corporate Lori and observant writer Lori. This morning, I’m thinking about how funny my life is and how I'm so much both sides of myself.
Yesterday I was boating on a country lake. It was so hot and humid at 93 degrees that I jumped out of the boat and swam on a bed of mountain rocks and seaweed. It was like an underwater Atlantis, the scene from the Creature From the Black Lagoon, only it was crystal clear. Blue gills and bass minnows were brushing up against my legs and I was hoping to avoid the big snapping turtle a hundred feet away. A mere 18 hours later and I’m in New York City where clients are wooing me with their best sales pitch and lunch at Haru. I was especially fond of the Super White Tuna, I'd never had it before and it was awesome. Living in New England is really the best of both worlds. One day I’m swimming with fish and seaweed and the next day I’m eating them raw. Life is good.
Brokeback Mountain was more than a movie about two hot gay cowboys, (Jake Gyllenhaal, oh the puppy dog eyes) it was a love story about 2 people who desperately wanted to be together but through a series of life circumstances, couldn’t. Sad.
There are still some men out there who are respectful and chivalrous
Pugsley loves going for Sunday drives with the sunroof open, they make him smile!
How to make pan seared scallops
The meaning(s) of 420 (WCD – I’m a slow learn….and you’re a sly fox)
Life isn’t about the good cards you hold, its how well you play the cards you are dealt..
So my last entry is a good segue to today's topic -- the Drunk Dial.
My question is this -- When a guy drunk dials and says things…..things he may not normally say while sober, like actually giving you a clue how he might feel -- does that mean he is just spewing meaningless drunk drivel? Or does it mean he's actually letting his guard down and telling you something because the liquor has made him lose his inhibitions, subsequently revealing bits and pieces of what lies beneath the protective facade?
I have no concept of what's what in drunk speak because I am someone who will say whatever I think or feel, regardless of whether I'm intoxicated or not. But I do recognize that not everyone operates this way... therefore, the question I pose today is this one:
Does liquor make someone more honest or more full of shit?
I got my first look at the new 2006 Ken doll the other day. Take a look at "Totally Cool Ken" from 10 years ago standing next to the new Ken doll of present day....
Is it just me or does the new Ken look totally gay?
I’m not sure what this whole Ken makeover is all about. We were all in shock when the announcement came Valentines Day 2004 that Barbie and Ken were breaking up. Only a couple months later she started dating the Australian surfer dude named Blaine, another one whose sexual preference I question.
Is this some ambiguous and feeble attempt to help Ken win Barbie back? Is Ken finally getting ready to come out of the closet? Will Ken and Blaine start dating in 2007 creating a whole new line of Brokeback Ken dolls or “I wish I could quit you” Kens? Is Barbie a fag hag?
I’m sorry but I simply don’t know any straight men who look like this. Note the man-purse slung over his right shoulder, the phallic bauble hanging from his neck, cropped leather jacket, and fitted cargo jeans. Seriously, could they make him look any gayer? I now understand why Barbie is 47 years old and still single.
Just for clarification on the matter, I emailed the picture to one of my gay friends, and his reply confirmed it all, "Oh my sweet baby Jesus, that may be the gayest doll ever."
I never used to watch Football, I’m just now starting to. Mainly because I work for a sports company and there are free tickets to local games and NFL pools to play. I decided I didn’t want to be the dumb blonde this year who makes her pool picks based on the color uniforms I like or keep checking off the Patriots in first place on my score card just because I think Tom Brady is Hot.
I needed a better strategy..
So yea, I’m starting to watch actual games and understand how it all works. What I’ve learned a week in, is that football is a lot like sex. Not in terms of viewing big beefy men run around tackling each other to the ground in those tight white pants. Or all the testosterone charging that goes on, although that does all kind of add to it for me. But it’s the metaphors of which I speak. Holy Sh*t! I finally understand why men love this sport so much...the game of Football is riddled with sexual overtones!
You have your Tight Ends, Blockers, Your Givers and Receivers, and there appears to be a lot of intercepting, changing positions, and time outs going on. Then you have the Offense and Defense all trying to “Make Plays” with one goal in mind, to score a “Touchdown”.
The Football itself, is an inflated rubber bladder enclosed in a rigid skin covering. One side of the elongated shaft is laced with veins....I mean "seams" that allow the thrower to maintain a better grip! The purpose of the “Ball” is to make it enter into the Goal area and ultimately score.
Football it seems, is a strategic battle to move the Ball into the opponents' territory, sometimes having to tackle the opponent along the way to get it there. The Object is to make it into the other teams End Zone!
Isn’t that exactly what sex is all about?
There are two teams acting out control dramas – one plays Offense and the other plays Defense. It’s a shifting of power that changes on and off throughout the game.
The Quarterback who is the leader, fine tunes and adjusts the game plan according to how the opponent is reacting to the plays. There is a cunning battle taking place on the “field”.
During the Game, the Offense's job is to make their way into the enemy's turf by advancing the ball to their Goal Line. When a team is on Defense, its job is to keep the other team from scoring. And this can go on for hours...
Who invented this game -- the Hindu Buddhists that created the ritual acts and delayed gratification art of Tantric sex???
By tackling the Offensive player who is in control of the Ball, the Defense must try to keep the Ball from moving forward on the clock... when the Defense manages to tackle the Quarterback holding the ball behind the line of scrimmage, a Sack has occured!
Finally, in an ideal scenerio -- after each Touchdown, the Offense can score again by successfully advancing the Ball into the End zone an additional time....scoring multiple points!!
Ahhhhh, my Monday nights may never be the same..
One of my biggest pet peeves in life is being misunderstood. But this often ends up being the case.
There’s a new male celebrity on my hot list – Clive Owen. I first saw him in Green Fingers, a wonderful sleeper flick about an ex-Prison Inmate turned Gardener (I highly recommend it) and more Recently I've seen him in Closer and King Arthur. Yum.
Keep Reading » » »
I used to hate it but now I Love the process of buying a new car. Dickering with the salesman, going back and forth to meet somewhere in between. I Love walking in seeing the pre-judging gleem in their eyes and dollar $igns swirling in their heads. “Easy sale, dumb blonde”. This is exactly when I play into their thrifty little hands, batting my eyes, cocking my head to the side. It gives me time to ferret out their weaknesses and leverage to bait with premeditated questions that I can use against them later. Since I left the dealership last night, I’ve gotten three calls today. Once lowering the sticker price by $500.00. Twice upping my trade-in value by $500.00 (which was already 1k more than kbb.com said). Thrice calling to state the Financing company will lower my interest rate from 6.2 to 5.79%. I told him we’re “getting closer”. I Love this dance.
Commitment has two different meanings:
1. To pledge or obligate one's own self, as in to the commitment of marriage
2. To place officially in confinement or custody, as in a mental health facility
Married rhymes with Buried
Dog spelled backwards is God
Test Driving a new car is very similar to the state of being just before sex. Full on desire, your senses are all heightened. The soft feel of leather against your bare flesh, the way you fit into the seats once you have adjusted them to conform to your unique body size and shape. The warmth beaming down on your head through the open sunroof, wind whisping pieces of hair onto the side of your face. The sound of your favorite song blasting from new speakers, the new car smell… You want it, you need it, you’d do just about anything to have it....
I hate when my friends are experiencing turmoil in their lives, it makes me feel very unsettled and helpless.
Some writers can write from imagination, others from experience. I rely on both but write better from experience. Because of that, I am always subconsciously seeking out new experiences good or bad, I think so I can write about them. I crave new places, new things, new scenery. However small and mundane so I can extract the blood out of it like a parasite and transfer it onto paper.
After two months of consistent exercise, I am finally starting to see new muscles form and definition. Especially in my upper body.
I’m in a phase where I’m doing away with things in my life that I don’t think are working for me anymore.
I’ve given up all sugars, carbs, and alchohol for the next 14 days. I’m cleansing and detoxing.
What makes the Gruesome Twoseome Lindsay LoHag and Nicole Ritchie think that being a size negative-zero stick figure looks sexy or cool? Why, Why, Why? When they can afford the best personal trainers and nutritionists on the market? Do they really think we believe that they've each lost 40 lbs by “working out?” Can you see one slab of muscle on their skeletal bodies? Can anyone say Ephedra, Coke, and Vomit?
I am way too comfortable being by myself. I’ve never been one of those who has to be around other people. I’m quite the opposite.
I just dribbled 3 Cream colored splotches of Vanilla Frozen Yogurt on my inner thigh, and I have to go out to happy hour tonite in these pants....nice!
I really like THIS song by Papa Roach, it’s so ME:
I tear my heart open, I sow myself shut
My weakness is that I care too much
My scars remind me that the past is real
I tear my heart open just to feel
Drunk and I'm feeling down
And I just wanna be alone
I'm pissed cause you came around
Why don't you just go home
Cause you channel all your pain
And I can't help to fix myself
Your making me insane
All I can say is
I tried to help you once
A kiss will only vise
I saw you going down
But you never realized
That You’re drowning in the water
So I offered you my hand
Compassions in my nature
Tonight is our last dance
I'm drunk and I'm feeling down
And I just wanna be alone
You shouldn't ever came around
Why don't you just go home?
Cause your drowning in the water
And I tried to grab your hand
And I left my heart open
But you didn't understand
But you didn't understand
You fix yourself
I can't help you fix yourself
But at least I can say I tried
I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life
I can't help you fix yourself
But at least I can say I tried
I'm sorry but I gotta move on with my own life
I realy want to be driving my new car cranking this song.
« « « Finished Reading