Writing, Dogs, Easter...yeah

I'm going to see Water for Elephants tonight. This only seemed fitting. Image from here. 

What a beautiful morning! The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and I felt obligated to enjoy my cup of jo on my back porch with my dog. He sat at my feet while we both gazed at the beginning of the Cascade mountains. I wish I could wake up that way everyday. Even the most tried and true pacific northwesterners are starting to get a little weary of living in Waterworld. I am more than ready for some sunshine and what a great way to wake up on my extra day off this week!

So a few things to update you on:

- I got bit by a dog again. I'm sick of re-telling the story so I'm just going to leave it at, "Yeah that kinda sucked."

-I won first place for the Washington Press Associations writing contest in the category of Social issues, religion, minority affairs. I wrote a story about man who goes to Ghana each year to do service work. He was so inspiring and totally had a grasp on what his purpose was in life. Writing human interest stories is my passion, and it felt good to get recognized for it. Normally I get stuck with invigorating stories about benefit packages and business initiatives - you know, the ones everyone skips. One of these days, I will make a living where I genuinely care about everything I write. 

-I got picked to write a guest post for my fave blog AndThenSheSaved! I've blogged about this site before, so you should check it out if you haven't already. I found out about it after seeing it featured on CNN. The blog really kept me motivated as I was paying off my credit card debt. Even if you're not struggling with bad spending habits, there are still some great money-saving ideas that anyone could use. It is a true snapshot of our consumerism-obsessed lives as Americans, so you can read it just to satisfy your inner sociologist. 

-My boyfriend and I are hosting our very first holiday dinner! I feel so adult! For Easter, he's cooking a prime rib, and I'm going to help with sides and make an apple cobbler. His parents, aunt, and my grandma and cousin are coming over. I'm excited! I can't wait to have a bigger space so we can host even bigger holiday dinners. One day! 

-Last year, the Easter bunny laid a puppy for us, so I wonder what kind of surprise we'll get this year...hopefully whoppers are involved :)

Anyway, I wish you all a fabulous weekend, and have no life lesson to impart on you today that adequately sums up my schizophrenic update. So with that, I bid you adieu! 

Hips, Crooks and Cash



Trust me - I'm a doctor.

 I just called out my physical therapy office on a billing error and saved myself from paying $250. I love when that happens – unfortunately, it doesn’t happen often enough. Speaking of medical bills, we’re still trying to figure out what the heck is going on with my hip. Yup. STILL.

I’ve had three months of physical therapy, two different kinds of MRIs and a horribly painful Novocaine injection and the doctors are still scratching their heads. Not to mention, even though I have awesome insurance, I’ve already paid at least $600 in out-of-pocket medical expenses for these tests and treatments. What an expensive little experiment they’re doing.

Anyway, the last I heard is that even though I did experience pain with the Novocaine injection (like “I feel the damn needle hitting my hip bone and I’m going to deck you” pain, which later became “I cannot walk it hurts so bad” pain), they still suspect a cartilage tear in my hip joint, though nothing they’ve tried is conclusive.

When the doc gets back from vacation (must be nice) they’re going to refer me to an orthopedic surgeon, who I hope to god figures this out before they start cutting me open for more medical experiments. Didn’t I blog about needing this referral oh…in February? They sure care about their patients being in chronic pain.

Our health care system is full of crooks. Just like our government.

Until then, I’m still hanging onto hopes of being able to run pain-free one day. So far, no one has told me it’s not a possibility.

This week, I began “Operation Be Less Fat” which I can’t say has gone completely well – I baked some oatmeal cookies on Sunday that seem to keep calling my name even when I’m completely full. But I have been consistent in going on long walks with my dog after work. You gotta start somewhere.

Today, I am going to try to hop on the elliptical again to see if that hurts. I’ve gained about 10 pounds and a dress size back since my injury and it totally sucks. Good thing I kept my fat pants.

Sticks and stones may break your bones, but god help you if you break or tear anything else.

An Encounter with Shiba Inu Enthusiasts

Prudence's baby photo (found here).

For those that know me (and those that don’t) it’s pretty obvious that I’m crazy about my dog Bowser. I’ve been teased for the organic, grain-free dog food he eats and the abundance of toys you’ll find littered throughout my house. I’ve owned up to being a crazy dog lady.

But I recently met my match.

A few weeks ago, I went to my very first Shiba Inu Enthusiasts Club (I know. Keep laughing.). It’s basically a Shiba Inu play date at a dog park, and nothing more (okay? gawd.). I thought it would be interesting to see how Bowser interacted with his own breed and to see all the cute little Shibas running around. But what I really got was my first taste of true crazy dog people.

Within the first few minutes of being there, one grown Shiba attacked a little puppy Shiba. Bowser was really sweet and went over and started licking the trembling puppy who was hiding underneath a bench.

That’s when the big ring leader of the Shiba clan emerged from her self-imposed throne. She marched over and bitched out the owners of the attacking adult Shiba. First of all, I agree that the dog shouldn’t have bitten the puppy, but what the hell is a 13-week puppy doing at a dog park in the first place? At that age, they’re not even completely vaccinated and could contract all kinds of diseases. They really should be socializing with other puppies or at least dogs their own size.

The ring leader lady, whom I’ll name Prudence, promptly asked the couple to leave and kept saying, “This is no place for aggressive behavior!” When the couple tried to calmly talk to Prudence about it, by saying things like, “I appreciate your comments-“ Prudence only began to yell, “No you don’t! You don’t appreciate anything I’m saying!”

It got really awkward amongst everyone in the park. The couple left with their Shiba and  big Prudence slowly rotated to face the crowd of onlookers. “EXCUSE ME! CAN I GET EVERYONE’S ATTENTION?  THIS IS NOT THE PLACE TO CORRECT AGGRESSIVE BEHAVIOR. WE’RE ALL HERE TO HAVE FUN. I WAS TRYING TO BE SO, SO NICE TO THAT COUPLE AND THEY WERE JUST A COUPLE OF SMART MOUTHS - ”

Smart mouths. As though they were her children. That’s when I stopped listening because Bowser was promptly taking a dump in the corner of the park. These snarky people were totally getting on my nerves.

After that, I was speaking with the owners of the victimized puppy who decided to stay at the dog park while keeping the puppy in their coat. I talked to a few other owners – some seemed nice, others more psychotic than Prudence the ring leader.

I felt like I stepped on to the set of Best in Show, except it was real life. This wasn’t some dog show mockumentary – this was dog owner hell. I left asking myself, “Am I really like that?”

But it gets better. I happened to be leaving at the same time as Prudence who stopped me and said, “Ooooh I like the coloring on your Shiba. What’s his name?”

“Bowser,” I replied. “I like yours too.” Noticing it had an odd, dark patch of hair on its back, I asked, “Oh did your Shiba used to be a bit darker? My dog lightened up a lot after we got him, too.”

“NO. It’s a RED. SHIBA.” Apparently my question stressed her out. Being a bitch really was completely effortless for her.

“What’s his name?” I asked.

She goes, “IT’S. A. SHE. MY SHIBA. IS. A. SHE.” Apparently these questions were just about to send her over the edge.

“Sorry,” I said without meaning it. “What’s HER name?”

I don’t even remember what she said because I really didn’t give a shit. “I’m not really a witch you know,” Prudence said to me – she must have sensed my apathy and lack of desire to ever return to her circus of psycho dog owners. “But those people really shouldn’t have been bringing their aggressive dog here.”

Really? She was still trying to get people on her side of the whole damn dog fight? Her dog wasn't even involved! I felt like it wouldn’t have been a stretch for her to ask everyone to grab a pitch fork and chase the couple with the aggressive dog out of the damn city. This was starting to get medieval and I’m just not cut out for that period in time.

Needless to say, that will probably be the last Enthusiast Club I go to – unless I’m lacking material for another juicy post. I’m happy sticking to the regular dog parks where people stand around and ignore each other.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but stay away from any club with the word “enthusiasts” in it. It translates to “mentally ill.” 

The Trouble With Grease Monkeys

"All fixed! That'll be $500,000." (photo from here)

If there is anything I hate more than paying for groceries is car repairs. I absolutely abhor the entire process from calling the repair shop to having to adjust my driver’s seat after some grease monkeys been in it. There is always some “surprise” repair that needs to be done which 90 percent of the time is a crock of bull.

As a woman, it is even more frustrating going to the repair shop because you can just see the condescending expression on the mechanic’s face before you even reach the counter to say hi. In my experience, being female = ten times the BS repairs that “really should be done or your car is going to explode on the freeway.”

For the past six years, I have been driving my cruddy little Ford Focus, which is inappropriately named Fabio – I thought it was sexy at the time I bought it, compared to the 1980s box I was driving before. Last week, I finally had work done to it that I had been putting off for oh…a year. I planned to buy a brand-spankin’, new car this year and didn’t want to put any more money into Fabio. Since I also have plans of Boyfriend proposing to me and buying a house together (like how that was worded?), I decided to bite the bullet and try to make Fabio last a little longer.

The previous mechanic who had worked on my car (and told me they could not drive me back to work after saying they could on the phone, forcing me to call a coworker to rescue me) gave me a laundry list of things that supposedly needed fixing. After having driven successfully sans breakdown for over a year without doing any of their “emergency” repairs, I questioned their reputation.

Confirming my sneaking suspicion that I was being played, I finally took my car in to get my brakes done. As I was begrudgingly forking over my hard-earned cash, I said, “I know I have a lot more work to get done to Fab-I mean my car.” To which the mechanic replied, “What do you need to get done? We did a full inspection and there’s nothing else wrong. Your car is in great shape.”

He showed me their inspection checklist to prove what a thorough job they did and even showed some areas that may need repairs eventually, but aren’t near the recommended stage yet. I actually was going to survive getting from A to B.

I told him even though they were on the pricier side repair shops, I appreciated that kind of honesty when dealing with my car and I certainly would be returning. He replied, “There’s no sense in doing dishonest work – it doesn’t serve anyone involved.” FINALLY! A mechanic who gets it! And didn’t treat me like a dumbass for having a kookah. I think we found a match.

Sticks and stones may break my bones, but I may have found one grease monkey that can be trusted…until the next repair.