dogs

Riley loves me, this I know

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Who can resist those beautiful brown eyes?

He’s reminding me that I should be paying attention to him who adores me and not so much to the computer.  I’ll be right there, Doggy-dog.

I love Tom and Lorenzo.  They make fun of people in the most delightful way.

That appears to be all I have to say today.  Oh, wait.

This week, from an I-was-better-about-doing-the-things-I-need-to-be-doing perspective, has been much better than last week.  Last week was all about keeping weird and stupid hours, not getting enough sleep, eating like a piggy little pig, and NOT EXERCISING AT ALL.  All week.  I didn’t feel so hot when I got to last weekend.  I felt downright disgusting.  And very very tired.  So I’ve been better this week.  Not perfect, no, but better.  About that stuff.  I haven’t pigged out (as much), I’ve done some sort of exercise every day since Sunday, and I’ve been getting closer to eight hours of sleep every night.  This week was MUCH worse for work, though.  But I’m not going to talk about that.  (I vented to Jess on my way home today, so I feel a little better.  Thanks, Jess!)

The other thing I feel better about?  Calculus.  I got my midterm grade back over the weekend.  I got a B.  That’ll do.  I thought I did better than that, but considering…everything, I can be happy with it.  I take my final next week.  I turned in my last quiz twenty minutes ago, so the final is all that’s left.  That feels good, but so does knowing I can still handle calculus.  After all this time.

Now what do I get to do?  Clean.  Clean like crazy, like the wind, like I’ve never cleaned before.  Because the house is a WRECK.  It looks like a tornado came through.  See for yourself:

This is what happens when we don't pick up the clutter for a couple of weeks. We just keep shoving it to the side.

Note the calculus paraphernalia and the books stacked all over the dining room table (because the giant annual used book sale I LOVE was last weekend and we just HAD to leave work early on Friday to go before they closed at 7pm that night because we were out of town the rest of the weekend) and the toilet paper, giant bottle of ibuprofen, and tons of mail scattered on the island.  And that’s just this room.

I know where I’m starting, though.  All those new books need to be shelved, and before they can be shelved, they have to be catalogued.  Hey, it’s gotta be done.  I might as well be the one to do it.

Things I’m anxious about today

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I woke up this morning a little crazy with anxiety.  The worst thing about it is that I woke up with a list of all the things I should be doing on a loop in my head, and then I froze.  I could have gotten up right then to get started on the list, but did I?  No, I stayed in bed.  Because I could put off all the hard things.  I do that all the time (procrastinate).   Of course, that gives me less time overall to get everything done, so all it really does is ratchet up the anxiety a little more.  Not exactly helpful behavior.

Instead, let’s a play a game (courtesy of Mom) called “What’s the worst that could happen?”

Anxiety Causing Thing #1: Quiz #4 for vector calculus and the midterm I have to take on Thursday

What’s the worst that could happen?  Well, I could get all the answers wrong on my quiz, but that doesn’t affect my grade (just makes my professor think I’m an idiot), so there isn’t anything to worry about there.  Of course, my performance on my quizzes is an indicator of my performance on the midterm, so if I don’t do well on my quizzes, I may not do well on my midterm.  And I could fail my midterm.  So what if I do?  I won’t have a very good grade in my calculus class.  That would be a blow to my ego (something I could survive), and it may put me on the road to failing this class.  What if I fail the class?  I’m taking it online at a community college because I need the prereq for grad school.  If I fail it, I’m out approximately $350.  If I fail it, I can retake it later.  Will I fail it?  Probably not.  I may not get an A.  I may not even get a B.  But I probably won’t fail.  I submitted my quiz this morning (confident that I got three out of four right), so that’s out of my hands, and I still have today, tomorrow, Wednesday, and part of Thursday to study for the midterm.  Breathe deep.

Anxiety Causing Thing #2: Work

What’s the worst that could happen?  I could get fired.  Or laid off.  Or whatever.  That could happen, but there’s nothing I can do about it (and there’s no immediate indication that it’s coming), so that’s not what’s making me edgy.  There’s nothing specific about work that’s bothering me.  No major deadlines, no one is asking me to do anything I’m not capable of, I don’t have any issues with any coworkers.  I just don’t like it.  I don’t want to come here every day.  (I know, whine whine whine, most people don’t actually like going to work.)  I want to do something with flexible hours where I can work from home and have more time for me.  The math that’s stressing me out is the first step in that direction, so this is more of a low-level, back-burner, always-bugging-me sort of thing that every once in a while jumps up and says, “Hey!  Loser!  Worry about me!”

Anxiety Causing Thing #3: Army Ten-Miler

Did I tell you about this?  A few weeks ago, John registered to run in the Army Ten-Miler this October, and I caved to the very mild peer pressure and registered with him.  So what’s the worst that could happen?  I’ll be so slow that the bus that picks up the slowpokes who aren’t going to finish in the required time will pick me up.  Humiliating.  I have 17 weeks to train for it.  I had more, but I didn’t use them.  I can’t procrastinate on this one, so every day I don’t start this training plan gets under my skin, and I didn’t run today.  Well, I kinda did.  I sprinted around the block (up the hills) a couple of times with the dogs this morning.  My math anxiety trumped my race anxiety this morning – I spent the extra time on my quiz.  (SuzRocks sent me a link to a half-marathon training plan.  I figure if I’m capable of running a half-marathon by the time I finish training, ten miles should seem easy.  Ish.  I just need to start the &^$* training plan.)

There are other things that bug me (there are always other things), but those are the three I woke up with this morning.  Peace, serenity, lots of gym time tonight, some studying…I’ve got it under control.

Happy thoughts!

The rain is rolling in

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We’ve had a stretch of beautiful weather this week.  It had to end sometime, and sometime started today.  Today was all gray and ominous, and it’s supposed to rain for most of the weekend.  Rain is good, but sunshine makes me happier.

The dogs need a walk before I head to the gym tonight, so I’m heading out the door.  We’ve been going on a lot more walks lately.  My theory is that the more I can wear them out on a leash, the less likely they’ll be to get all hyper in the yard and dig holes to get to the rabbits (the EVIL rabbits) mocking them from the other side of the fence.

A rabbit ate my tree

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Bunnies are bad news.  You think they’re all cute and cuddly and not a menace, but really, they’re out to get you.  And your baby trees.  You know that cute little crabapple tree John and I planted a couple of weeks ago?  It had little baby leaves and everything, and now it’s GONE.

I used to think rabbits looked like this:

All cute and innocent and nose-wriggly – but look a little closer….

If there are train tracks between you and this bunny, RUN!

…EVIL!  So clearly evil.  Turns out they’ve looked like this all along.  This explains the disappearance of the sunflowers John tried to plant for me a couple of years ago and my poor munched-on black-eyed susans.  It explains the death of our cute little baby crabapple tree, and it finally explains why Roxy goes airborne and tries to tear my arm out of its socket every time she spots a rabbit on our walks.  She’s always known they were evil and just couldn’t tell me.  Those rabbits aren’t just hungry – they’re out to get us.  Monty Python was on to something.  (Like that’s news.)

Little baby trees bear a remarkable resemblance to sticks

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A few months ago, I made a donation to the Arbor Day Foundation, and they mailed me trees.  Trees by mail.  Trees by mail that fit in my mailbox.  Seriously tiny trees.  Sticks.  I’m going completely on faith that the twigs I pulled out of what looks like the plastic sleeve your newspaper gets delivered in when it’s raining will grow into trees.  We planted kindling in the ground.

It has leaves! It lives! I think it's a crabapple. And it's only four inches tall.

If you look carefully, you can see a stick inside that cage. That one might grow up to be a golden raintree, whatever that is.

Roxy likes to eat sticks, so I put fences around the 8 trees we planted in the backyard to try to keep her away. It's mostly working.

In other news, Candy completed a triathlon yesterday.  (She’s completely insane.  Awesomely insane.)  She swam 1.2 miles, biked 56 miles, and ran 13.1 miles yesterday, in under six hours (which is better than average because, of course, she’s better than average.  WAY better.).  Does this news inflame every competitive instinct I have?  If she can do it, I can do it?

Not really, no.  She’s wonderful (and batshit crazy, clearly), and I will leave the Ironman (which I’m sure is next on her to-do list) to her.

Frequently? Or a person who has lost his parents?

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Corrupt orphans screwed with my computer last night.  For reals.  They were obviously upset with Michigan State Senator Bruce Caswell, who recently proposed that money set aside for clothes for Michigan’s foster children should only be spent at thrift stores like Salvation Army and Goodwill.  (Story here, courtesy of (and with commentary by) Nancy Nall.)

I’m not kidding about the corrupt orphans, though.  I tried to boot up my computer this morning, and it got stuck.  I called my handy live-in IT guy to fix it.  He helped those poor orphans out.  Very competent, that guy.  I think I’ll keep him around.

You should be so proud of me.  I just got back from a long walk with dogs and started dinner.  Dinner will only take ten minutes,  but I’m hungry NOW and I want to munch.  To graze.  To eat food high in calories and not good for me.  Like those candy-coated chocolate eggs that are my favorite Easter candy ever.  Or chips.  (Not as exciting, but STILL.  Chips.)  I resisted the urge and reached instead for – wait for it (this is where you should be proud of me) – baby carrots.

I’ll wait for the cheers and applause to die down.

Thank you.

Yes, instead of pounding down delightfully tasty treats with no nutritional value, I’m chomping on crunchy orange CUTE little carrots, chock full of vitamins and other healthy things.  They only occasionally remind me of toddler fingers.  Or my own thumbs.  Not at all disturbing.

There’s a hole in the bucket

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And the yard.  Several, really, but there’s one that’s getting bigger along the fence line between our yard and one of the neighbor’s (the uphill side).  I just let Riley in, and he’s got dirt on his nose, on top of his head, and around one eye.  We should start calling him Patch.  That neighbor doesn’t have pets, so his yard is probably where all the rabbits live.  If we give the dogs enough time, they may soon have two yards to run around in.  I can’t believe we have a digging problem.  What do we have to do?  Fill the holes with rocks?  Fill the dogs’ heads with rocks?  Done.  They came that way.

Yesterday’s XKCD comic is hilarious.  And relevant, like I never am.

This is irrelevant, irreverent, and a little unbelievable.

And I’m off to read.  Haven’t been doing enough of that lately.

Bathrooms and deer and celebrities, oh my!

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I had some major balance problems in my strength class last night.  I kept teetering over during lunges, and when we were doing push-ups on the balance ball (you lay on your stomach on the ball, put your hands on the floor, and walk yourself forward until the ball has rolled down to your shins and ankles), I rolled off three times in a row.  I wasn’t the only having problems, though.  The guy next to me tried to take out my knee with his weights when he rolled off during chest presses.  I forgave him; he looks like Jon Hamm.

Speaking of celebrity look-alikes (who are all around – it’s getting weird), I ran into young Stockard Channing again recently at work.  An eerie resemblance, at least in part because she’s not that young.  She’s like an alternate version of Stockard Channing – another way she could have looked if she’d aged in another direction.  I know exactly what I mean by that, but when I read it over, I don’t know exactly what that means.  In the same meeting, there was a woman who looked (and sounded) like Catherine Keener.  Maybe it WAS Catherine Keener!

To add to the weirdness in that building (I was downtown when I went to the meeting with all the celebrities), they have a public bathroom that – wait for it – actually smells good.  It smells like flowers, clearly an air freshener and not actual flowers, but it’s a nice air freshener that doesn’t seem to be just covering up bad smells.  I like that bathroom.  I don’t want to hang out in it or anything, but it’s my bathroom of choice before I hit the road to come home.

Oh, oh!  Wildlife sighting!  The dogs and I were jogging on the trail this evening, and I saw NINE DEER.  At once!  Just hanging out.  They saw us, but they didn’t run (which is why both of my arms are still attached to my body – I think if the deer had taken off, the dogs would have, too); they sort of ambled off into the woods, looking back at us over their shoulders.  Nine of them!  I don’t think I’ve ever seen that many deer in one place.

When I got home, I got a little lost in TV Tropes.  If you’ve never been there, be warned!  Don’t do it at work!  It can sometimes be hours before you come up for air.

It’s been a very exciting evening.

It was a cool idea for a race, actually

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Roxy had a very strange episode last night.  It definitely goes into the seizure category, but it wasn’t like anything she’s ever done before.  She skipped the convulsion part and jumped straight to her recovery zone, where she wanders around the house and bumps into things for a while.  This time, though, she was skittish with us and she was halfway crouched down as she hurried from room to room.  It was weird.  She’s fine now.

In some strange way, I’m sure it led to the somewhat off-the-wall dream I had after finally going back to bed, involving an obstacle course/marathon through a city, in and out of houses and hotels and malls, through windows instead of doors, across bridges and boats and parks.  I was determined to beat my pal Jess, even though I knew she was better and faster than me in this event.  She was always just ahead of me, almost in arm’s reach.  The rest of the people running in the race were way behind us.  Because we’re awesome.

Who doesn’t love chips?

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Riley usually doesn’t care about treats (unless it’s steak or fish or something irresistible like that), but tonight we’re only talking about a tortilla chip.  John offered it to him, and he slobbered all over it, but ultimately declined.  Walked away uninterested.  So John put the chip in Roxy’s bowl (she was outside).  A few minutes later, we heard a loud crunching sound coming from the other side of the island.  Unmistakable.  Roxy never knew what she missed.  And Riley may have developed a love for chips.

Ramble on

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My brain has been buzzing all day, but only about work stuff, and I wish it would stop. I was asked to volunteer for some outside-normal-working-hours work, and that project finally started to need me, so work is reaching into my evening and weekend hours again. Thankfully, this particular project is due in two weeks, so the pain will be short-lived.

I have a desperate dog trying to crawl into my lap, making typing difficult. He’d climb into my skin with me if he could. Needy animal.  We’re going to try group meditation (me and the dog) and see if he’ll calm down once I’m fully relaxed.  Deep breaths, Riley. You can do it.

ZOMG puppies!

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The dogs and I met the most adorable little puppy named Otto today.  Twelve weeks old, SO cute.  He looked like the poky little puppy, except with the colors reversed.

Otto was mostly black, with white and brown on his face, ears, and paws.  So cute I wanted to gobble him up.  He handled being rushed by Roxy and Riley pretty well, too.

I want one.

Who you gonna call?

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John and I are becoming the neighborhood’s animal rescue league.  First, the cat.  Second, Max.

Meet Max

Max was adorable.  I think he’s a Pomeranian, though much bigger than Chanel was (John thinks between 10 and 20 lbs).  Unlike the cat, our dogs got along with him just fine.  (They didn’t try to eat him.)

Hanging out

We saw him sniffing around a couple of the neighbors’ houses, so when we went out to run that morning, we kept an eye out for him.  We spotted him at the bottom of the hill and spent the next 25 minutes or so chasing him EVERYWHERE.  John finally caught him with the help of a friendly woman in a totally different part of the neighborhood, and I met him at home (I couldn’t keep up (I’m SLOW) and lost them when they took a turn towards home while I was still around another corner).  Luckily, Max was wearing a collar with tags, so we left a couple of messages for his owners and got a call back within a couple of hours.  The woman who came to pick him up said they were out looking for him ’cause he runs off all the time.  That’s why they put their phone number on his tag.  A better solution?  Leash your damn dog!  You know he’s a runner, so keep him on a leash!  What is wrong with pet owners in my neighborhood?

Indecent exposure

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Roxy looks naked without her collar on.  It’s kinda weird.  How could a collar be the difference between clothed and naked for a dog?  Not all dogs, either.  Riley doesn’t look naked when we take his collar off.  We took them off about a week ago, when we tried to let them sleep upstairs.  (Collars off = no jingling.  It doesn’t stop middle-of-the-night slurping, though, which is why we kicked them out.)  Since then, every time I look at her, I see a naked dog.  She doesn’t seem to mind.  Maybe she’s an exhibitionist.  Next thing we know, she’ll be out flashing the neighbors.

<Break to ask the dog if she’s going to flash the neighbors.>

She says she will if there’s food involved.

Having nothing to say has never stopped me from saying it. That should be my motto.

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I’m back from the future.  An hour from now.  Not that interesting.  There are times being an hour ahead of everyone could be useful, but for everyday things, there’s not much point.

We tried putting Roxy in the cone of shame or despair or whatever the hell it’s called (I don’t have a 5-year-old, Mom.  I’ve only seen Up once.) last night, but we didn’t last more than 30 minutes.  Possibly not even that long.  She was SO pathetic.  And clutzy.  Totally freaked out, but in a quiet way.  A very tense, quiet way.  I couldn’t take it.  The sock method is working – why change now?

Enough about the dog.  Until tomorrow, when I’ll have more to say about the dog.

Dog.  Dog dog d-dog dog.

John texted me today to say he was going to be a little late coming home.  I texted him back: “Damn.”  My phone suggested a replacement: “Danny.”  Good replacement.

Keeping my dog in dry socks

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It’s raining.  Has been all day.  Because some of the people I work with are AWESOME much of the time, I was able to spend the second half of today working from home.  I spent most of yesterday at home, too, trying to work while keeping Roxy from treating her paw like a tootsie roll pop.  Barely successful.  Because of socks.  My socks.  Which I donated to the not-grateful dog.  Not-grateful possibly because I have to wrap packing tape around the sock to hold it on.  At least I trade dirty socks for clean ones and wet socks for dry ones.  I’m not a jerk.  She could be wearing a lampshade instead.

She does not appreciate the things I do for her.  She also won’t pose for good pictures.  (The foot is getting much better.  She just won’t leave it alone!)

How is “thingy” a word? My spellcheck thinks it’s fine, but it doesn’t like “itty-bitty”

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We have a new itty-bitty wireless keyboard to help run our computer/TV/media center thingy.  Super cute.  I took a couple of pictures, but they both turned out blurry (’cause I suck at taking pictures), so I’ll show you the one with a teaspoon next to it for some perspective.

Oh, better picture.  Here’s that little keyboard on top of my laptop keyboard.

The gyroscopic mouse is next on the list of techie things to buy.  This mouse app on my phone is getting a little old.

Can we have another night with another hour back?  Today was a really nice, long day, and I could use another extra hour before tomorrow morning.

I’m sorry I have nothing of interest to say, and that’s probably a sign that I should click that Publish button over there, but I don’t think I’m going to pay any attention to that sign.

(“It’s a sign.” “You don’t believe in signs.”)  Name that movie?  And maybe win another tote?  (Damn, I should really mail that tote to Holly….  Sorry, Holly.  I’m a deadbeat.  In the mail this week!)

Update for recordkeeping: Roxy just had a seizure.  She’s okay, as usual, but if I don’t put it here, I won’t remember it next time.  We’ve got her upstairs now, and she’s curled up on the floor by my side of the bed.  Being cute.

The neighbors got a cat – updated with video

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A big orange one.  Who hangs out in their backyard.  Which backs up to our backyard.  Which I discovered when I ran outside this afternoon to find out what all the commotion was about.

The cat was right up against the fence, all puffed up, growling and hissing, and the dogs were barking their fool heads off.

That is one angry cat.

Eventually, he retreated and glared at us from the slide.

Angry Cat moved off to a safe distance.

The dogs quieted down after that, although Roxy kept an eye out for Angry Cat’s return.

And now, a short romp in the yard.  (My video debut!)  Points to anyone who can figure out what I said at the end.

(2 hours later.) Hm.  Well, if Vimeo ever finishes converting that video, I’ll upload it.  Maybe in the morning?

Morning: Here we go.

Short Romp from Susannah Brewer on Vimeo.

What’s with today today?

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  1. I’m allergic to work.  Like the physical building, not the work itself.  I got in this morning and my head exploded.  I felt fine (not achy or sick or anything), but I couldn’t stop sneezing, my eyes wouldn’t stop watering, and my head stuffed up.  I left around one to go home and take Benadryl, and as soon as I got in the car, I dried up.  Just like that.  I didn’t take anything when I got home, and I’ve been fine since then.  We’ll see what happens tomorrow.
  2. The dogs stole a tupperware lid out of the sink.  Did they chew on it?  No.  They just stole it.  They must do it for the thrill ’cause they never eat what they steal, even when it’s food.
  3. I slammed the very tip of my finger in the car door.  Hurt SO much.  I shouted some not nice words and then called my mommy.  Not to shout not nice things at her, though.  She distracted me long enough for the pain to fade.  Thanks, Mom.
  4. John is on the phone with his dad, and I think he’s forgotten that we haven’t had birthday cake yet.  (It’s his birthday.  We had pancakes for dinner.  Can’t complain.)  We’re not having birthday cake, but he doesn’t know that.  (I didn’t buy him a cake.  Or make him one.  Yes, I know how.  Out of a box.  🙂  Not the point.  I got a mini peanut butter cream pie for him.  Which we may or may not eat tonight.)

Time for pie!  Gotta go.