(Wo)man's Best Friend

I once heard a quote that said "Getting a pet is like inviting a little tragedy into your home." Though light hearted, it rings so very true. From training to frustration to love to some more frustration and even more love and eventually leading to an (always) untimely death. Pets, particularly dogs, provide a companionship that cannot be matched with humans. The never ending loyalty and acceptance that a dog has for its owner being just a small part, I would recommend any caring person with enough time and space to get a dog. They fill your home and your heart with warmth.

What is only half true is the sentiment that dog is mans best friend. With the recent loss of my cocker spaniel Murphy I was reminded as to how important our furry little friends are to both men and women. I think that women (being the naturally more sensitive of the human species) have an ability to connect with animals that men don't always experience. From my experience (29 years of life with 2 dogs at all times, prior to the pet rabbit, guinea pig, cat, fish, gerbils etc.), it's very often the female owners that suffer the greatest loss when a pet passes on. For those of us that love animals and take them into our homes, we accept these little crazy beings as part of the family. They take on quirks often similar to that of their owners, carve a place into our hearts and nestle up in there until their hold has taken over any ability we have to be disheartened by pets or animals whether ours or any other human beings.

My sensitivity to animals is tripled when I witness things like lost dogs without collars on, runaways that are so eager for human affection that they come up to strangers wagging their tale and hoping for a pat or two. I feel some days like the universe knows this and therefore sends many a stray dog my way. I have come in contact with at least a dozen stray dogs in the last year and each time I feel the strong need to take them home and care for them, though I know this isn't always the answer, I still feel that strong pull.

One day while driving home from work I witnessed two adult mutts strolling the street seemingly unscathed by the busy traffic and hustle and bustle around them. Without an owner, I immediately feel a strong sad/angry feeling that always comes with seeing an animal being mistreated (I consider leaving a dog outside so that it can easily run away, to be mistreated). I pull over my car and roll down the window hoping to get a better look at the two mangy mutts that have taken to this particular street. Instead of running or darting away, they both begin to wag their tails so hard that their whole bodies shake...assuming maybe that I was their owner? The most daring of the two comes over, puts his paws up on the car and sticks his happy face in the now-open window.

Now how is it possible for someone who made the conscious decision to purchase or acquire this dog, to leave him in a situation where he could escape? It's not that difficult...close door, lock door. Don't leave dog outside all day. Maybe it's like the people that shouldn't have children...some should NEVER own dogs.

As the saying goes...

No matter how hard we all try to escape it sometimes, society reels us back in. Distortions, expectations, overly enhanced models with not so overly enhanced bank accounts are beginning to make the rest of us feel...well, not-so-enhanced. The pressures of age and friends and marraige and sex and babies...don't even get me started on babies, can all start to wear on even the most level headed folks out there. I think I have a very mixed bag when it comes to friends at all stages of life and relationships which has provided me with some great resources, at times entertainment and most of all learning experience by way of knowledge, tips and tricks to get me through my own ordeal. What is it really that puts pressure on us to move forward into and out of relationships? We can blame it on society (I have quite a few bones to pick with ours), history or even our parents...but when it comes down to it, it's pressure put on ourselves from...ourselves. A lot of people struggle internally with being a better version of themselves. With feeling "enough" or "worthy". This creates a school of thought that you will only reach the enough or feel the worthy if you have certain things: marraige and kids by 40, white picket fence (are fences still all the rage?) and maybe a golden retriever and a cat for shits and giggles. What if there are those of us out there who do want those things, but are approaching or passing the age in which the expectation lies? What then? What happens after? Life after expectations...is it bliss? Do we move past the horrid attraction to online dating (gasp-eek! I said it "outloud") or do we succumb to it? The distinterest in all things organic between people has become such a problem that many singles do fall victim to the match/plentyoffish/chemistry/jdate/supercalifragilousdexpealidocious of dating sites. Now when I say fall victim to the sites, thats not entirely true. Many people choose to place themselves on there with the hope that somewhere out there is their counterpart doing the same and are subject to countless reminders that it isn't infact the case. It's become so easy to type up a profile that people send messages the equivalent of a pinch of the ass at a dirty biker bar. Even those of us who put effort into it (why, don't ask me) and explain what we definitely don't want, even if we don't know what we do want? We get crap. We get "whatchu doin 2nite" (spelling as received) or "u.r.sexy". Really? Did you just read (can you read) where I stated I have zero interest in flingy casual you're-not-realy-single-but-say-you-are types? Guess not. Why not just put a picture up of some T&A? You'd probably get the same sort of response!The lengths to which some singles are prepared to reach grow longer with each passing day. Why isn't it ok to not be matched up with people constantly or not be the 'single friend'? Can't we all just be who we are and meet people face to face by passing eachother in the produce aisle or pumping gas at the same time? Why? We're all too busy, in too much of a rush, on too much Facebook, to notice that the one we've been looking for, just drove on by. As the saying goes, "Good things come to those who wait." What about those of us who reach out and grab those good things by the cojones, pull them kicking and screaming towards us and work it out? That wouldn't be good...it'd be great.

Communication Disintegration

My spelling skills have gone down the proverbial drain. Something I used to pride myself on, I now double check my texts and quick Google search words to make sure their spelling is correct. We all make mistakes from time to time and often someone like me who is a speedtastic-typist, will occasionally spell a word the way it sounds as it's pouring out of my brain and onto paper (yes I still use it) or the new document I've opened in Microsoft Word. Rereading my work surprises me in a "Oh no you didn't!" sort of way. This has gotta stop. Texting has become my favorite and most often used form of a communication. I so rarely call and speak to someone on the phone that I actually get anxiety when I get phone calls. My internal reaction is somewhere along the lines of "Oh shit, that thing actually rings?!...You mean to say...I can speak into it and hear out of it?! No way!"...then I let the call go to voicemail. Cell phone and computer usage has infiltrated so much of our lives these days. I struggle to find a friend who does NOT have an Iphone/Ipad/Itouch that they are constantly defaulting to, for entertainment, communication, Google searches and any other trillion thing those lil' gadgets are capable of. I am not innocent in the communication breakdown...I text. I have Facebook and I check it more than is ever necessary and I've used Ipads before and think they're pretty cool. But I'm beginning to think that all of the computer and cell phone use is actually hurting us as human beings. I remember the day when I turned sixteen and was handed a cell phone which was purely for emergency purposes to use in my rockin' maroon '91 Jetta that was my first pride and joy. Sure the cell phone weighed about a pound and was concrete grey with an antenna that NASA could probably pinpoint from space...but it really was just for emergencies (or to call my parents and say that I wouldn't make curfew...every time I had a curfew). Now kids are given phones (Internet capable) at the age of 10. What the hell do kids need cell phones for at that age? If they're in school...they're in school. There is a phone in every single classroom, nurses office, principals office, main office...any office...in a school. Why does a kid need to tote a cell phone around? It just gives other kids one more outlet to bully and make fun of the weaker of the population. You now have to have the coolest phone that has the best apps and the most expensive data plan in order to be the cat's meow, all before puberty hits...and what parent ever wants to have their puberty ridden child making calls and texting every hour of the day. Can you just imagine the things that the lil nuggets are saying to each other as their hormonal groins scream at them to act out? Totally and completely unnecessary. As adults many of us carry around our cell phones everywhere we go in our purse or pocket. God forbid someone is unable to reach or respond while you are strolling down the beach or running into the grocery store. Who wants to be cell-less while pumping gas and using the restroom...I mean really? What level has the insanity gotten to? I recently had a conversation with a friend of mine and I was discussing how I am going to downgrade my phone. I have a Blackberry that eats 100$ of my money each month so that I can text and check Facebook as much as my heart desires...and am beginning to see how much money is being thrown away. This whole "data plan" business is ridiculous. The friends response was "I could NEVER do that!" to downgrading to a less "smart" phone. That response sounded more like a crack addict being asked to stop using than an intelligent adult letting go of the Iphone. It both surprised me and made me think....how deeply attached many of us are to the instant connection of the Internet. I spent time with a group of friends recently and at one point I stood up to make a drink and looked around the room and every single person in the room was looking at his or her respective phone. There has got to be a problem here. If people are getting lazy to the point where they'd rather see the latest Facebook post instead of asking the friend next to them how their day was, something is seriously lacking. Group dinners, gatherings and parties are all for the mingling of people and ideas as well as the improving and maintaining of interpersonal connection...how do we learn to interact and build really great relationships with people if half of their brain has slowed to the point where only staring at cell phones and computers will do? I realize that some people out there "need" the phone because they are on-call or have some extreme sort of situation that makes them prone to emergency phone calls, or maybe parents of small children being watched by a sitter...yes I'd keep my phone by me for these reasons. But everything else? Can we stop it? Can we have an entire party happen where not one person checks their phone repeatedly or mentions Facebook or the Internet? Is it possible? What did we do before Facebook? What did our lives consist of before texting became the most widely used form of communication? I'll tell you what we did. We lived. We danced. We laughed. We spoke. We hugged. We wrote. We walked. We loved. We learned about each other. Let's go back...way back...back when Words With Friends...was actually, words with friends.

Gospel According to Bookworm; Volume 1: Awesome Adriana

I've always loved the written word. As long as I can remember, sitting down with a book has calmed me, brightened my mood, relaxed me or even helped to lull me into a deep much-needed snoozefest. Not to mention...I could learn something. There was a time, albeit a short one, where reading "wasn't cool"...maybe it was the teen years of thinking I had to be as "cool" as the coolest cucumber out there or the early college years where napping then partying and partying then napping became necessity but I am extremely proud to say that now, I am back in my reading groove...and just in time because there are some awesome works of art out there that I have been so fortunate to have read and one of the most awesome of awesome...is author Adriana Trigiani.

I'm not sure if I love her writing because of her obvious abundence of talent or due to the fact that the subject matter has been along the lines of all things I love (love, shoes, Italian food, traveling, men, etc), but the latest novel I just finished can go right on my list of beloveds (not surprisingly) which includes Very Valentine, Brava Valentine, Lucia, Lucia and Rococo. This latest is titled Viola in the Spotlight and it was a pleasure to read.

First I must explain (not sure why-bear with me) about my reading habits. I am as open-minded about reading as I am about most things in life. I'll pick up new authors here and there, try a memoir or a book of poetry...I don't discriminate. However, I am a hardcore lover of fiction. When you pick up a well written book of fiction and just immerse your mind in the story...in my opinion you can be transported to another place. It's the same reason I love movies (I don't deny a good juicy reality tv show either but), a well written, acted and directed movie can take you completely out of yourself and into a life in another realm. There is such a power in movies and in novels of fiction that in my opinion you just don't get through other works. That being said, I have recently discovered and need to admit something to the world...the novels out there written for "tweens" are secretly loved by adults too...Twilight...need I say more?

I admit to first being anti-tween reading. I mean why revert back to "easier" reading when you've already read dozens of books that are directed at adults your own age and decades older? I'll tell you why...pure...unadulterated...entertainment. These books are as easy on the mind as they are on the eyes when you speed read through them. They don't drain the tears from your eyes or heart-wrench that wretched organ out of your chest...and yet still...they pull you in and make you love them. Viola in the Spotlight is no different.

For such a specifically designed character that Viola is (in age, living situation, interests) she encompasses the every-girl. She made me want to go back to high school (now really, who ever wants to go back there) and relive the dramatic moments of friendships and loves and "epic" summer vacations. Her view through the lens of a video camera took me back to high school tv class and her group of close friends made me appreciate mine. This book was a delight to read. Easy on the mind and heart yet still had moments where you were wishing for more of a kiss or less of a linger. I don't shy away from recomending lucious books to people so I'm tellin' ya...anytime you may pass by ANY of Adriana Trigiani's novels, including Viola in the Spotlight...pick them up, read until your heart's content and you will not be disappointed.

Nixing the Snooze

I've never been a morning person. Don't get me wrong, I'm not a horrible grumbling monster in the morning...just not my happiest moment of the day. If I'm getting up in the middle of the night/wee hours of the morning to go on some sort of vacation romp to a fantastic place...I'll be all the morning person you need...but otherwise...no way jose. It's not even that I really love sleep all that much. I definitely notice when I haven't had enough of it or even when I have too much...but gone are the weekend days of sleeping in till noon...I don't even have any kids yet...I just don't sleep those extra hours anymore (even if I tried).



I'm beginning to think that one of my unhealthy habits is the culprit for my not-so-glorious-in-the-morning tude. I press the snooze. Not only do I press the snooze...I hit it, slap it, poke it, press down with my entire hand (thinking that may create a few extra moments of sleepytime) and have even moved my alarm clock in an effort to stop all of this nonsense. I read somewhere that if you are the type to hit snooze multiple times in the morning, you could try and move your clock somewhere else in the room so that you actually have to get up out of bed and walk to it to turn off the alarm. I did this. I plugged in my alarm clock all the way across the room on my windowsill. Know what I do every morning before work? Hear my alarm, get up from bed, walk 5 or 6 steps over to window, hit snooze, walk 5 or 6 steps back to bed, climb in...commence snoozeing. Not only is it bad enough I do this at all...I do it 4 or 5 times. Thus, delaying the enevitable frustration of getting up according to an unpleasant alarm blaring in the morning.



Most likely all of this snooze button pushing and strolling back to bed does little to nothing for my sleep. It may even make my morning monger attitude worse than it has to be but damnit...I love that snooze. I think whomever invented alarm clocks should renig that creation. Isn't that what it does anyway? Lessen the obvious outcomes blow? Why start the pain and anger any earlier than it has to be started? It's like when you have a vicious Bandaide to remove. You look at it, go for it...then you rip a teensy corner off, only to push it back down and re-stick it to the already unpleasant patch of skin it's clinging to? No Way! You rip that entire little bastard off in one quick motion. You don't delay what you know will suck in the first place! Why do we hit snooze?! Or how bout another example...getting a shot at the doctors office...do you want the nurse to take the needle out, poke your skin a little, stop...poke your skin and pierce your skin...and stop...and then finally come back for more and jab that sucker into your arm or leg or ass? NO!

Just take the alarm for what it is and get the hell out of bed (at least that's my new goal. I swear I'll start tomorrow morning)...

L is for the way you...

I LOVE love. Anywhichway you take it, give it, feel it, steal it, spread it, share it or talk about it...I'm into it. Love reading books about love, seeing movies about love, feeling it and seeing others feel it. Why you may ask? Who the hell knows.

I myself have not been lucky in love (yet). A series of failed, dissolved, disintegrated or completely annihilated relationships to many people may leave them jaded and bitter in their group of dwindling (or all together non-existent like mine) single friends in their life...but for me, somehow, I still hold onto the idea of the fairytale love...time-stopping, earth-standing-still sort of moments where your whole heart and soul are so wrapped up in another human being...it still exists, right?

I love to write letters. I love to receive letters...is there any man on this earth that really would enjoy the romance of writing me a (goddamn) letter every once and awhile? Is it too much to ask for a little lead poisoning by way of pencil to paper use in order to make me happy? I mean seriously...I don't ask for much...just a little paper...or a napkin...or maybe that receipt crumbled up in your back pocket...write some sweet crap down and mail it to me...

Ok, so I do have my bitter days. The ones where the world wide web and dwindling glory of social networking sites show me that even the most delusional, mean or otherwise insane people have found fantastical love in some shape or size and are happy as a motherf*cking clam...you know, just a little bitter. I can waste the occasional weekend night being sappy and sad and lonely with me,myself and I, a good cocktail and a realllllly sappy love story chick-flick, but you know what? I'm full of hope for my own love to come along, and you know what people? When it does, it's gonna be (to use a really unnecessarily brought-into-tween-slang-for-over-dramatization-of-mundane-moments-word) EPIC. That's right b*tches. Read this and weep (or read the next blog where I talked about how I sobbed after writing this one). But for realz, on the down-low or the uptown downtown I'm gonna take you down to Chinatown kinda foshizzle...it's out there...and that shit is just waiting for me.