This was just one of those evenings that you have to laugh at because everything went exactly wrong. I am supposed to be at a baby shower right now but instead am at home blogging. Here is how it went down:
3:34 pm: I finished my workout and decide to cook dinner. The baby shower is supposed to start at 6:30, I still need to shower and wrap the gift, and dinner should take about an hour to cook...need to leave at 6:15...yeah, this should leave plenty of time to finish all of my tasks and get to the baby shower on time!
4:42 pm: Dinner is ready! A new dish that is a success!!! The hubs and I sit down to eat it and I map out what I still have to do before I leave.
5:12 pm: Take a shower.
5:21 pm: Start doing my hair and make-up. It's been a few days since I have gotten all gussied up so I decide to go all out with the curly hair and smokey eyes.
5:58 pm: Finished getting ready. Time to wrap the gift!
6:02 pm: I decide that I am too lazy to wrap the gift in a box so I opt for the much easier gift bag. Thank goodness I bought a bunch of extra ones a couple of weeks ago from the Target dollar bin!
6:03 pm: Oh, shoot! I need a card too!
6:04 pm: Remember that I bought a bunch of cards from the dollar card rack for occasions in which I forget to buy a card. I raid the desk drawer with greeting cards and am victorious.
6:09 pm: I decide to look up directions to the shower since I have to leave in 6 minutes. I realize the address is not in the email about the shower like I thought. No problem - I have a church directory and can just look up the address!
6:11 pm: I have used google maps to find the house. I briefly relay some of the directions to the hubs and say, "This isn't the way that we used to go to their house, is it?" He says no, but that we always went to their house from the south and I will be traveling from the north so google maps is probably just telling me a different way.
6:15 pm: I am in the car and pulling out of the garage. Man, am I good at timing!
6:26 pm: I get off at the exit and am less than 1.5 miles away from their house. Guess it's time to pull out my hand written directions!
6:28 pm: First snafu - my directions say to turn left onto Lancon Rd but the name of this road is Lacon Rd. I must have just written it down wrong.
6:29 pm: Did google maps say 0.2 miles to the next turn or 0.7. Maybe I should have written that down... No, it was definitely 0.2 and I have driven much further than that already. Maybe I'll just turn around and look for Lancon Rd. Maybe there are two roads - one Lacon and one Lancon. They were really stupid naming two roads such similar names!
6:32 pm: I opt for my GPS since I can't find Lancon Rd. It tells me that I should have turned on Lacon Rd. So maybe I was the stupid one.
6:34 pm: I double back and realize that it was 0.7 miles not 0.2 miles and I turned around one street before my turn. It's okay, I'll only be about 5 minutes late.
6:35 pm: I am 5 minutes late, there are no balloons on the mailbox and there are no other cars in the street. Was this a surprise baby shower or something? Should I be parking someplace else? Aren't there always balloons on the mailbox? I don't even recognize the house from the 3 other times I have been here. Did they move since the directory was printed? Maybe I'll just sit in my car until I see someone else walk into the house.
6:37 pm: Still sitting in my car. Surely someone else is late and will walk into the house soon.
6:38 pm: I feel stupid just sitting in my car in front of a random house. Maybe I should rummage through my purse some to make my delay in exiting my vehicle more convincing.
6:39 pm: Lip gloss! I'll apply lip gloss! That has to take at least a minute - surely someone will arrive in the next minute!
6:40 pm: I have spent one full minute applying lip gloss. My mouth feels like a slip and slide, no one else has arrived at the house, and now I am 10 minutes late. Another thought occurs to me: I shouldn't be sitting out here because if it is a surprise I don't want to blow the surprise by sitting in my car in front of the party.
6:41 pm: I buck up, grab the present from my passenger seat and walk to the front door.
6:41 and 30 seconds: I ring the doorbell. A 10 year old girl answers. This is unexpected - a grown-up in party gear should have answered and directed me where to put the gift. She doesn't say anything to me so I say, "Is this where the shower is at?" She continues looking at me not saying anything. Wait, do 10 year olds know what a baby shower is if you just call it a shower? Does she think I am talking about a literal shower? Did I just creep out a 10 year old by asking her about a shower at her house? She continues to look very confused so I say, "I guess not!" and quickly retreat to my car.
6:43 pm: I pull my cell phone out of my purse and realize that last night when I discovered it wasn't charged I thought, "Oh, I'll just charge it the next time I get up." and then didn't. My cell phone is dead, I am the creepy person who just asked a child about taking a shower at their house and I still have no idea where the shower is actually at.
6:44 pm: I decide that I probably shouldn't stay parked in front of this person's house so I just start driving. Maybe they did move. I bet I can back track and figure out how to get to their house if I drive from the south. However, I'm not sure how to get to the south.
6:52 pm: By winding through many roads I have finally found the road that we usually take. Okay, now all I have to do is drive in the general direction, I will recognize the turns that I have to make, I will find their neighborhood and then all I have to do is look for balloons on a mailbox! I may be a half hour late but this should be a piece of cake.
7:02 pm: My plan has already failed. Apparently I shouldn't have made the hubs drive to their house every time because I didn't recognize the turn. I have now hit a dead end and I am several miles away from my starting point and in the country. All that is around me are corn fields and farm houses.
7:06 pm: I have made a couple more turns and realize that I am lost and I am not going to be able to find their house by "winging it." I start heading home
7:08 pm: I have done a couple of calculations - I don't quite know where I am at but I figure that I am greater than 15 minutes from home. They live greater than 15 minutes away from me. It will probably take me about 10 minutes to find their actual address and then make a map. That means that I probably have no chance of getting to the shower until 8:00 pm. It started at 6:30 pm. Is 1.5 hours inappropriately late?
7:29 pm: I arrive at home defeated. The hubs comes out to the garage because he can't figure out why it would open on it's own and then I have to admit the whole story to him. The whole time I am talking the poodle is jumping up and down seeking my attention. At least the dog is happy to see me.
8:04 pm: I have put on my pajamas. I have also gotten onto facebook and sent my apologies for not being at the party. This evening didn't go as planned, but the hubs is just finishing up his work for the day and he and I will spend the rest of our evening together. This is a comedy of errors that has been salvaged into an okay night.
Thursday, September 2, 2010
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
My new love of road trips
I have never been one for road trips. If you are someone that I went on a road trip with at some point in my life and you are reading this please don't be offended - I just don't have a great love for riding all day (or for some trips many days) in a car. I also don't enjoy flying all that much and could do without being crammed in my 18"x34" cell and using a bathroom after 30 other people including a large aromatic man. However, since I met the hubs I have developed a newfound love for road trips.
Our early road trips weren't far - we would drive 1 hour to visit my mom, 2.5 hours to visit his parents or 3 or 4 hours for a friends wedding - but it was during those "dates" (yes, I consider them to be very romantic dates - sans wine and mixed drinks for obvious reasons) that we learned many of the nuances of each others personalities and began discussing our future together in detail.
The reason this is on my mind is that the hubs and I just spent 3 weeks together on the road. We had several people to see and a few tasks to complete. We would drive someplace, stay for 3-4 days and then go on to our next location with only 2 one-night hiatuses in our own bed. In total, we were probably in the car and in airports about 50-60 hours (that is just traveling to locations - there was extra time in the car within each stop pushing our total closer to 100 hours than to 50).
While we did spend some time independently of one another (I learned how to solve a rubix cube and he studied for Step 2 of the boards to get his medical license - we are so cool) most of the time we chatted about life. We discussed where we want to live, when we want to have kids, why our way of thinking is so superior to everyone else's (you can talk about that in the car because there is no way they can overhear you!). We even read a book together. This actually worked out quite well - the hubs doesn't like reading but likes audiobooks and I enjoy reading out loud. At the end of each chapter I would put the book down and we discussed what we read (this wasn't a John Grisham novel or anything - we were reading Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, so it spurred on a lot of discussion).
It appears that gone are the days of my parents bribing me to be good on car trips with new toys (that I inevitably used as weapons by hitting my brother in the head with Barbie) and movies (we had one of those big conversion top vans with a TV and a VCR - this was before DVDs, and DVD screens in the back of driver and passenger seats, existed). Now instead of dreading miles of corn fields and mountains I simply thank God for the fact that I get uninterupted time with my husband.
Our early road trips weren't far - we would drive 1 hour to visit my mom, 2.5 hours to visit his parents or 3 or 4 hours for a friends wedding - but it was during those "dates" (yes, I consider them to be very romantic dates - sans wine and mixed drinks for obvious reasons) that we learned many of the nuances of each others personalities and began discussing our future together in detail.
The reason this is on my mind is that the hubs and I just spent 3 weeks together on the road. We had several people to see and a few tasks to complete. We would drive someplace, stay for 3-4 days and then go on to our next location with only 2 one-night hiatuses in our own bed. In total, we were probably in the car and in airports about 50-60 hours (that is just traveling to locations - there was extra time in the car within each stop pushing our total closer to 100 hours than to 50).
While we did spend some time independently of one another (I learned how to solve a rubix cube and he studied for Step 2 of the boards to get his medical license - we are so cool) most of the time we chatted about life. We discussed where we want to live, when we want to have kids, why our way of thinking is so superior to everyone else's (you can talk about that in the car because there is no way they can overhear you!). We even read a book together. This actually worked out quite well - the hubs doesn't like reading but likes audiobooks and I enjoy reading out loud. At the end of each chapter I would put the book down and we discussed what we read (this wasn't a John Grisham novel or anything - we were reading Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis, so it spurred on a lot of discussion).
It appears that gone are the days of my parents bribing me to be good on car trips with new toys (that I inevitably used as weapons by hitting my brother in the head with Barbie) and movies (we had one of those big conversion top vans with a TV and a VCR - this was before DVDs, and DVD screens in the back of driver and passenger seats, existed). Now instead of dreading miles of corn fields and mountains I simply thank God for the fact that I get uninterupted time with my husband.
Wednesday, July 28, 2010
My husband is not a body pillow
Of all of the challenges that I knew I would face entering marriage, I didn't think that sleeping would be one of them. I had grand visions back in high school of how lovely it would be to snuggle up with my honey for bedtime. I would lay down with my body pillow Johnny (named after Johnny Depp of course) and imagine cuddling under my husbands shoulder, laying my hand on his chest and laying my leg over his body. Then I started sharing a bed with the hubs and all of those visions of cuddly splendor went away.
This isn't to say that I dislike sleeping in the same bed as the hubs - I enjoy it very much and it is one of the wonderful benefits of marriage - but it isn't as natural and easy as I thought sleep would be. There are many reasons why this is more challenging than I first anticipated:
1. People take up space. This may not come as a big shock to you, but for some reason I was surprised by this. I went from sleeping in my very own queen sized bed to having to share the same amount of space. While I realize that I only take up about 1/2 of the bed when I completely spread out I like taking my half out of the middle. Unfortunately the hubs and the poodle also both like using the middle half.
2. People move. The hubs doesn't roll over too much in his sleep. He sleeps on his back pretty much the whole night. But for some reason, about a half an hour after he falls asleep, he puts his hand on his forehead. This wouldn't be a big deal except every 15 seconds or so his hand slips off of his forehead and he jerks his hand back into place so it can slide off again. This is pretty loud in the deep dark night. Just imagine somebody rubbing their hands through their hair quickly just 12 inches from your head.
3. People generate heat. During the winter this is actually a nice feature of the hubs. However he has a very fast metabolism and during the 90-100 degree nights of summer this is very unpleasant. We also have different blanket preferences. I tend to get cold much more often than him. Even if we both agree on using the sheet, I will pull the comforter up over myself when I get chilled. However the comforter spans the whole bed and gets pulled up over the hubs. He then will throw his half over me and then I am too warm because I am covered with a sheet and a double layer of comforter. Temperature regulation is quite a problem.
The greatest conundrum of all of this is that when the hubs is on call and I am home alone I can't sleep. I have taken to sleeping on the couch because it feels less weird than sleeping in the bed by myself. Maybe I should invest in another body pillow for those nights on call and go back to pretending that people conform to the shape of my body, don't move and don't make heat.
This isn't to say that I dislike sleeping in the same bed as the hubs - I enjoy it very much and it is one of the wonderful benefits of marriage - but it isn't as natural and easy as I thought sleep would be. There are many reasons why this is more challenging than I first anticipated:
1. People take up space. This may not come as a big shock to you, but for some reason I was surprised by this. I went from sleeping in my very own queen sized bed to having to share the same amount of space. While I realize that I only take up about 1/2 of the bed when I completely spread out I like taking my half out of the middle. Unfortunately the hubs and the poodle also both like using the middle half.
2. People move. The hubs doesn't roll over too much in his sleep. He sleeps on his back pretty much the whole night. But for some reason, about a half an hour after he falls asleep, he puts his hand on his forehead. This wouldn't be a big deal except every 15 seconds or so his hand slips off of his forehead and he jerks his hand back into place so it can slide off again. This is pretty loud in the deep dark night. Just imagine somebody rubbing their hands through their hair quickly just 12 inches from your head.
3. People generate heat. During the winter this is actually a nice feature of the hubs. However he has a very fast metabolism and during the 90-100 degree nights of summer this is very unpleasant. We also have different blanket preferences. I tend to get cold much more often than him. Even if we both agree on using the sheet, I will pull the comforter up over myself when I get chilled. However the comforter spans the whole bed and gets pulled up over the hubs. He then will throw his half over me and then I am too warm because I am covered with a sheet and a double layer of comforter. Temperature regulation is quite a problem.
The greatest conundrum of all of this is that when the hubs is on call and I am home alone I can't sleep. I have taken to sleeping on the couch because it feels less weird than sleeping in the bed by myself. Maybe I should invest in another body pillow for those nights on call and go back to pretending that people conform to the shape of my body, don't move and don't make heat.
Thursday, July 8, 2010
A dog's life
It must be so easy being a dog. While my little toy poodle Simba has to struggle through life only knowing about 50 words in the English language and has to communicate his emotions through barking, he has a pretty charmed life. I walk him, I feed him, I pet him, he is allowed to sleep in our bed. And he takes advantage of all of these things.
Over the past couple of months he has decided that he doesn't like it when I try to sleep in. This is a problem because I am out of school right now and I enjoy sleeping in very much. However, I understand. The little guy hasn't been outside since the night before and has a full bladder. He decides at around 6:30 am that it is time for me to get up. I can usually convince him to sleep for another hour by covering my face up with the sheet and petting him until he lulls off into dream land. But after that hour the sheet has inevitably fallen off of my face and the dog has discovered that if he just licks my face I will wake up. At this point I try to get him to fall back asleep, but it's no use. He is awake and ready to go! We go downstairs and he is ready to go outside...or, much to my annoyance, to jump up on the living room couch and fall asleep again. Apparently it wasn't that he needed to go to the bathroom, he just wanted to change sleeping locations. It got worse a couple of nights ago. Apparently he woke the hubs up by licking his face at 1:30 am and 3:30 am. This is a big deal because the hubs doesn't get to sleep in like me - he had to wake up at 4:00 to go into the hospital for his ICU rotation. Of course, if I spent 20-21 hours/day sleeping I think I would want to wake up at 3:30 too.
Simba is also a little bit of a yipper (he's a toy poodle, so I guess that comes with the breed). The ultimate punishment in our home is the squirt gun. Right now I know he can't see anything from the sliding glass door except for leaves shaking in the trees, but he is ultimately finding that those are worth yipping at. We were thinking about buying a bark collar, but decided we didn't want to zap our dog into submission. Then we decided that a squirt gun might be a better option. It's really nice because when he is barking he won't respond to us yelling no. Before the squirt gun came along we had to go and pick him up in order for him to listen. We may be lazy "parents" but this got really old really fast. Now, with the squirt gun, I can squirt him from any window he is able to see out of from my couch. I don't know what is so horrible about water, but Simba avoids it like the plague (I set him on a pool float yesterday that had a little puddle of water in the middle - when his foot touched the water he jerked it back and panicked). When he starts barking I don't even have to squirt him. I just shake the gun with water in it and he stops barking.
When that little white fuzzball jumps up on my lap and rolls over onto his back to have his belly scratched at the end of a long day of sleeping and barking I forgive him for all of his annoyance and am so happy that I finally have a dog.
Over the past couple of months he has decided that he doesn't like it when I try to sleep in. This is a problem because I am out of school right now and I enjoy sleeping in very much. However, I understand. The little guy hasn't been outside since the night before and has a full bladder. He decides at around 6:30 am that it is time for me to get up. I can usually convince him to sleep for another hour by covering my face up with the sheet and petting him until he lulls off into dream land. But after that hour the sheet has inevitably fallen off of my face and the dog has discovered that if he just licks my face I will wake up. At this point I try to get him to fall back asleep, but it's no use. He is awake and ready to go! We go downstairs and he is ready to go outside...or, much to my annoyance, to jump up on the living room couch and fall asleep again. Apparently it wasn't that he needed to go to the bathroom, he just wanted to change sleeping locations. It got worse a couple of nights ago. Apparently he woke the hubs up by licking his face at 1:30 am and 3:30 am. This is a big deal because the hubs doesn't get to sleep in like me - he had to wake up at 4:00 to go into the hospital for his ICU rotation. Of course, if I spent 20-21 hours/day sleeping I think I would want to wake up at 3:30 too.
Simba is also a little bit of a yipper (he's a toy poodle, so I guess that comes with the breed). The ultimate punishment in our home is the squirt gun. Right now I know he can't see anything from the sliding glass door except for leaves shaking in the trees, but he is ultimately finding that those are worth yipping at. We were thinking about buying a bark collar, but decided we didn't want to zap our dog into submission. Then we decided that a squirt gun might be a better option. It's really nice because when he is barking he won't respond to us yelling no. Before the squirt gun came along we had to go and pick him up in order for him to listen. We may be lazy "parents" but this got really old really fast. Now, with the squirt gun, I can squirt him from any window he is able to see out of from my couch. I don't know what is so horrible about water, but Simba avoids it like the plague (I set him on a pool float yesterday that had a little puddle of water in the middle - when his foot touched the water he jerked it back and panicked). When he starts barking I don't even have to squirt him. I just shake the gun with water in it and he stops barking.
When that little white fuzzball jumps up on my lap and rolls over onto his back to have his belly scratched at the end of a long day of sleeping and barking I forgive him for all of his annoyance and am so happy that I finally have a dog.
Tuesday, July 6, 2010
It's only $875,000, so affordable!
I'm watching daytime TV right now. I haven't done this in a really long time and I am now remembering why I both love and hate it. The first show that I watched today showed me how to do affordable at-home manicures and hair conditioning. I learned that with a half a grape, a teaspoon of sugar and a teaspoon of oil I can revitalize my finger nails and cuticles. I found out that using an avocado and a banana, mashed together, I could create my own conditioner to revitalize my hair. Imagine my delight when I found out that I had all of these beauty supplies right in my kitchen! I know how I'm going to spend my afternoon.
Then came the hate part of my love-hate relationship with daytime TV. The View came on. Now, I think these ladies tend to be a bit off their rockers. They are all very polarized and are not very relatable. I'm a little bit liberal (I voted for Obama) but these ladies embarrass me almost as much as Rush Limbaugh would embarrass me if I called myself a republican. I was mostly happy with their program this morning however (they stayed away from politics and interviewed Jackie Chan and Jaden Smith about the Karate Kid). Then I got really excited because they said they were going to talk about the upswing of the housing market (Oh goodie! I have to sell my house in the next couple of years! This is fabulous news!). My excitement turned quickly to disgust when I saw the "wonderful examples" that they came up with. The first home was in Tacoma, Washington and cost about $500,000. Okay...the ladies were frustrating me because they said, "Wow!!! That is such a great deal!" But I realize that Tacoma is near Seattle and is on the coast. That would make it a little bit more expensive. One of the next homes they showed was in Pittsburgh! Yay! That is one of the cities that the hubs and I are thinking of living in! This will be great! Their thrifty home example...$375,000. Now I was pissed. This is the midwest and most people don't pay that much for homes. I was just disgusted by yet another example of how disconnected hollywood is from the rest of the nation.
The next segment was about TJ Maxx and Marshalls. I LOVE those stores! However, I became disappointed yet again when I realized that each of their great deals for outfits cost over $300. I don't even spend $300 on my outfit when I go to a formal event. I even go to the sales rack when I hit up Old Navy. Sometimes I find a shirt for $10 and don't buy it because I don't think it is worth it. And I have no idea what Marshalls the fashion person from the View was shopping at, but the last time I went there I bought a fabulous shirt for $7.
I think it may be time to turn off the TV and go read a book instead.
Then came the hate part of my love-hate relationship with daytime TV. The View came on. Now, I think these ladies tend to be a bit off their rockers. They are all very polarized and are not very relatable. I'm a little bit liberal (I voted for Obama) but these ladies embarrass me almost as much as Rush Limbaugh would embarrass me if I called myself a republican. I was mostly happy with their program this morning however (they stayed away from politics and interviewed Jackie Chan and Jaden Smith about the Karate Kid). Then I got really excited because they said they were going to talk about the upswing of the housing market (Oh goodie! I have to sell my house in the next couple of years! This is fabulous news!). My excitement turned quickly to disgust when I saw the "wonderful examples" that they came up with. The first home was in Tacoma, Washington and cost about $500,000. Okay...the ladies were frustrating me because they said, "Wow!!! That is such a great deal!" But I realize that Tacoma is near Seattle and is on the coast. That would make it a little bit more expensive. One of the next homes they showed was in Pittsburgh! Yay! That is one of the cities that the hubs and I are thinking of living in! This will be great! Their thrifty home example...$375,000. Now I was pissed. This is the midwest and most people don't pay that much for homes. I was just disgusted by yet another example of how disconnected hollywood is from the rest of the nation.
The next segment was about TJ Maxx and Marshalls. I LOVE those stores! However, I became disappointed yet again when I realized that each of their great deals for outfits cost over $300. I don't even spend $300 on my outfit when I go to a formal event. I even go to the sales rack when I hit up Old Navy. Sometimes I find a shirt for $10 and don't buy it because I don't think it is worth it. And I have no idea what Marshalls the fashion person from the View was shopping at, but the last time I went there I bought a fabulous shirt for $7.
I think it may be time to turn off the TV and go read a book instead.
Monday, June 28, 2010
Gun Shy
I feel like the only person who gets into more sticky situations than me is Jack Ryan (the hubs and I watched Patriot Games last night). That may be a bit of an exaggeration, but I've had my share of bad luck. Back in college I remember thinking I was invincible (like most college students). I would speed a bit more than I should, drink coffee and take no-doz like there was no tomorrow the day before a test (and most of the rest of the time), and would walk outside by myself at 3 am when I finally decided it was time to leave the science hall and give in to sleep.
Events from the last few years have changed this. The speeding was remedied by two speeding tickets and the excessive caffeine by graduating from college, but the walking outside at night took an oversees trip and my seemingly safe city of residence to remedy.
When I was in Europe back in 2007 with my friend Tiff I had a great time and got to experience so many new and exciting things. Included in this was a mean dog that tried to attack us on the way back to our hostel (fortunately a taxi was driving by, we ran out into the street, jumped in and then drove the 2 blocks back to our hostel), and 3 people who attempted to rob me. The first was on one of the rare times that Tiff and I parted ways for the day (Tiff and I love each other but realize that sometimes our friendship is better when we take a day away from each other). I decided to sit down on a bench and eat my dinner. This was a rare treat because most benches that we found were owned by restaurants and you had to order food in order to rent your space on their bench. I had gotten dinner from a grocery store (we traveled economically) so had no need to order food. I was used to eating while sitting on a curb, but found a wonderful oasis of the non-restaurant owned bench in the middle of the city. I was leisurely eating my dinner when two children sat down next to me and casually reached for my purse. I grabbed it before they got it and no harm was done.
The next time one of the locals decided to try to fool a stupid tourist was in Naples. Tiffany and I had been told not to go there - it is dangerous and dirty. We spent a total of 1 hour and 5 minutes in the city. The 5 minutes occurred in a train station on our first trip through Naples to a near-by resort town. In the 5 minutes it took for us to change trains I saw someone mugged on the other train platform. Fortunately we didn't have to hang around and wait for the mugger to find us because our train arrived. The hour we spent in Naples was when we passed back through on our way north. We had an hour to spend in the city (at least it was day and not night as was our previous Naples experience) between train rides and decided it would be an opportune time to grab lunch since the only thing you could get on the train was an overpriced proscutto sandwich. A local approached us while we were eating to ask us for change (aka get us to open our wallets for 1 euro and then steal all of our money). Fortunately we just said we didn't understand and then left to board our train.
The final robbery attempt occurred on the steps of the Duomo in Florence. I was sitting there with my purse underneath my legs when Tiff told me that someone was reaching under me. I looked down just before the man was able to grab my purse, I grabbed it instead an yelled at him fueled with rage and 1 or 2 beers.
Then I came back to America. I wasn't too phased by my European experiences. Doesn't everyone get robbed in Europe at some point? However, the target was not removed from my back when I moved to my current city. Within 2 months of living here I was mugged at gunpoint (thankfully he was a small-time mugger and only wanted my cash...I got to keep my ID and credit cards and didn't have to reset those parts of my life). Things were pretty calm for about 1.5-2 years until I was shopping downtown in the middle of the afternoon and I heard someone yell "Hey red!" I am aware of the fact that only 2-4% of the population has red hair so I assumed that this voice was referring to me. I made the mistake of looking up to see a homeless man sitting on the steps of a church across the street. I hurried into a nearby store, wandered the aisles until I thought I got the guts up to go back outside. I mean, someone yelling "Hey red" is pretty harmless isn't it? Just in case it wasn't harmless, however, I got my keys in my hands. I wasn't going to turn into one of those suspense/horror movie characters who can't find their keys or who fumbles with their keys and drops them just as the antagonist reaches their car. And yes, I did need a key to enter my car. I am not one of the lucky car owners who also has a remote to unlock my car. As I was approaching my car, trying to appear nonchalant although my pulse was racing at a cardio fat burning rate, the man stood up, took a moment to grab his garbage bag of possessions, and then headed for my car. I picked up my pace, thankful that my keys were already in my hand, started running when I was almost to my car and got in and locked my car just as the homeless man reached me. Then I cried and drove away as fast as I could.
I resolved not to go downtown by myself anymore. I figured that as long as I hung around my home I would be fine. Then came the morning, less than 2 months after the homeless man incident, when a man tried to break into my house. I was still in bed, wasting time on my laptop, when I heard someone ring the doorbell several times and knock. I thought, "Wow. That UPS man is really insistent!" I was still in my jammy-jams so I decided to put off opening the door and to wait until his truck pulled away. I peeked out through the blinds, but there was no UPS truck. "I guess it must have been someone campaigning." So I went back up to continue doing nothing on the computer. However, as I got into my bedroom I looked out the second story window down onto a man in camouflage investigating my back yard. I still liked to think the best of people though, so I ducked down so he couldn't see me and thought "I wonder if he lost his dog and is looking for it on my back porch. That would explain the excited doorbell ringing. I know I would be going out of my mind if I lost a lovable little dog!" So I called my dad and said, "There is a strange man in my back yard. Should I call the police?" He said yes, I called and then the man came back to my front door and started banging on it while I was talking to the 911 operator. Thankfully the man decided that my house was too secure and decided to break in to my next door neighbor's house (he was able to pop one of their doors open with just a screwdriver). The police came, the burglar got spooked mid-burglary (as was evident when we went over to their house, saw he had only had a chance to rummage through 2 drawers before escaping into the woods and leaving the side door of the house standing wide open) since he could see the police in the street from the living room that he was in the process of burgling. After that I did not leave our house, unless the hubs was home, for about 3 weeks. Then we got a dog, a dog that feels the need to pee every few hours, and the healing began. Although, I still refuse to answer the door if I am home by myself. And I figured out how to use a gun and invested in some pepper spray.
Why is all this relevant? Well, the hubs is a 4th year medical student and we are trying to figure out where he should do his residency. While I think it would make us hipper people if we decided to live downtown someplace I have a rule. Although I realize that no place is 100% safe, I don't want to live within walking distance of a bar. Alcohol can make people do stupid things, as evidenced by my running after and yelling at that man who tried to steal my purse in Florence, Italy.
Events from the last few years have changed this. The speeding was remedied by two speeding tickets and the excessive caffeine by graduating from college, but the walking outside at night took an oversees trip and my seemingly safe city of residence to remedy.
When I was in Europe back in 2007 with my friend Tiff I had a great time and got to experience so many new and exciting things. Included in this was a mean dog that tried to attack us on the way back to our hostel (fortunately a taxi was driving by, we ran out into the street, jumped in and then drove the 2 blocks back to our hostel), and 3 people who attempted to rob me. The first was on one of the rare times that Tiff and I parted ways for the day (Tiff and I love each other but realize that sometimes our friendship is better when we take a day away from each other). I decided to sit down on a bench and eat my dinner. This was a rare treat because most benches that we found were owned by restaurants and you had to order food in order to rent your space on their bench. I had gotten dinner from a grocery store (we traveled economically) so had no need to order food. I was used to eating while sitting on a curb, but found a wonderful oasis of the non-restaurant owned bench in the middle of the city. I was leisurely eating my dinner when two children sat down next to me and casually reached for my purse. I grabbed it before they got it and no harm was done.
The next time one of the locals decided to try to fool a stupid tourist was in Naples. Tiffany and I had been told not to go there - it is dangerous and dirty. We spent a total of 1 hour and 5 minutes in the city. The 5 minutes occurred in a train station on our first trip through Naples to a near-by resort town. In the 5 minutes it took for us to change trains I saw someone mugged on the other train platform. Fortunately we didn't have to hang around and wait for the mugger to find us because our train arrived. The hour we spent in Naples was when we passed back through on our way north. We had an hour to spend in the city (at least it was day and not night as was our previous Naples experience) between train rides and decided it would be an opportune time to grab lunch since the only thing you could get on the train was an overpriced proscutto sandwich. A local approached us while we were eating to ask us for change (aka get us to open our wallets for 1 euro and then steal all of our money). Fortunately we just said we didn't understand and then left to board our train.
The final robbery attempt occurred on the steps of the Duomo in Florence. I was sitting there with my purse underneath my legs when Tiff told me that someone was reaching under me. I looked down just before the man was able to grab my purse, I grabbed it instead an yelled at him fueled with rage and 1 or 2 beers.
Then I came back to America. I wasn't too phased by my European experiences. Doesn't everyone get robbed in Europe at some point? However, the target was not removed from my back when I moved to my current city. Within 2 months of living here I was mugged at gunpoint (thankfully he was a small-time mugger and only wanted my cash...I got to keep my ID and credit cards and didn't have to reset those parts of my life). Things were pretty calm for about 1.5-2 years until I was shopping downtown in the middle of the afternoon and I heard someone yell "Hey red!" I am aware of the fact that only 2-4% of the population has red hair so I assumed that this voice was referring to me. I made the mistake of looking up to see a homeless man sitting on the steps of a church across the street. I hurried into a nearby store, wandered the aisles until I thought I got the guts up to go back outside. I mean, someone yelling "Hey red" is pretty harmless isn't it? Just in case it wasn't harmless, however, I got my keys in my hands. I wasn't going to turn into one of those suspense/horror movie characters who can't find their keys or who fumbles with their keys and drops them just as the antagonist reaches their car. And yes, I did need a key to enter my car. I am not one of the lucky car owners who also has a remote to unlock my car. As I was approaching my car, trying to appear nonchalant although my pulse was racing at a cardio fat burning rate, the man stood up, took a moment to grab his garbage bag of possessions, and then headed for my car. I picked up my pace, thankful that my keys were already in my hand, started running when I was almost to my car and got in and locked my car just as the homeless man reached me. Then I cried and drove away as fast as I could.
I resolved not to go downtown by myself anymore. I figured that as long as I hung around my home I would be fine. Then came the morning, less than 2 months after the homeless man incident, when a man tried to break into my house. I was still in bed, wasting time on my laptop, when I heard someone ring the doorbell several times and knock. I thought, "Wow. That UPS man is really insistent!" I was still in my jammy-jams so I decided to put off opening the door and to wait until his truck pulled away. I peeked out through the blinds, but there was no UPS truck. "I guess it must have been someone campaigning." So I went back up to continue doing nothing on the computer. However, as I got into my bedroom I looked out the second story window down onto a man in camouflage investigating my back yard. I still liked to think the best of people though, so I ducked down so he couldn't see me and thought "I wonder if he lost his dog and is looking for it on my back porch. That would explain the excited doorbell ringing. I know I would be going out of my mind if I lost a lovable little dog!" So I called my dad and said, "There is a strange man in my back yard. Should I call the police?" He said yes, I called and then the man came back to my front door and started banging on it while I was talking to the 911 operator. Thankfully the man decided that my house was too secure and decided to break in to my next door neighbor's house (he was able to pop one of their doors open with just a screwdriver). The police came, the burglar got spooked mid-burglary (as was evident when we went over to their house, saw he had only had a chance to rummage through 2 drawers before escaping into the woods and leaving the side door of the house standing wide open) since he could see the police in the street from the living room that he was in the process of burgling. After that I did not leave our house, unless the hubs was home, for about 3 weeks. Then we got a dog, a dog that feels the need to pee every few hours, and the healing began. Although, I still refuse to answer the door if I am home by myself. And I figured out how to use a gun and invested in some pepper spray.
Why is all this relevant? Well, the hubs is a 4th year medical student and we are trying to figure out where he should do his residency. While I think it would make us hipper people if we decided to live downtown someplace I have a rule. Although I realize that no place is 100% safe, I don't want to live within walking distance of a bar. Alcohol can make people do stupid things, as evidenced by my running after and yelling at that man who tried to steal my purse in Florence, Italy.
Thursday, June 24, 2010
Our dog: pet and family member
I have an 8 pound toy poodle named Simba. I had wanted to get a dog ever since I graduated from college and began graduate school 3 years ago, but my boyfriend/fiance/husband (progressing over the course of those 3 years) was not convinced. Granted, having a dog is hard work. You have to walk them, bathe them, feed them, etc. I made a solemn vow to the hubs that I would do everything to care for our dog and he wouldn't have to lift a finger. He, however, pointed out that, although I see myself as being extremely ambitious, I tend to get about half way through a project and then set it to the side and not finish it (I have about 5 unfinished scarves hanging on knitting needles, 40 sets of wine charms that I have crafted that have not been posted on etsy or ebay, and a pile of scrapbooking supplies for our wedding from last summer with no actual wedding scrapbook). With a dog that results in death and then animal abuse charges and jail time. I also haven't ever been able to keep a plant alive (it's not that I neglect them - it's because I love them too much. You can over water a plant, but a dog will stop drinking before water toxicity).
Surprisingly the impetus that led to our getting a dog was when a man in fatigues tried to break into our house last summer (I'll give more information about this sometime in the future and explain why I have no desire to venture into big cities). The hubs was a medical student and had to be away from the house pretty often to be on call. I told the hubs that I wanted a dog to protect me from future invaders. I began by looking at large dogs online, but the hypoallergenic breed that I wanted (goldendoodles) cost about $2000. Finally, I stumbled across a teensy cloud of poodle on craigslist that only cost $50. It was kind of difficult explaining to the hubs how a then 6.5 pound malnourished toy poodle could protect me from burglars, but in the end I prevailed.
Owning a dog has helped us to learn new facets about each other. This is mostly because the hubs and I entered this endeavor with different views regarding dogs. I grew up with 3 shih tzus who were a part of my family. My mom called me the dogs' sister and she was their mom. We fed them top quality food (which used to be dog food but my mom has since switched to feeding the last of the three dogs Sara Lee Deli Meat because of his chronic pancreatitis), provided them plenty of toys, and let them sleep in our beds. The only time that they went outside was to go to the bathroom or for the occasional walk. They went to the vet every time they had a sniffle or a sore.
The hubs' family owned hunting beagles. The dogs lived outside (I don't believe any dogs should live outside), ate scraps (including bones which can cause major intestinal problems), slobbered, rolled in the dirt and were, in general, gross. The dogs would sometimes escape into the woods when they got free from their post (if one of my dogs ran away I would not be able to sleep until they returned home safely). Instead of going to the vet they would live by the philosophy of "rub some dirt in it."
Simba has changed the way that the hubs has seen dogs, and the rules that we initially established quickly dissolved. The first issue we had is that we were immediately faced with a $500 dental cleaning/booster shot bill from the vet, followed shortly thereafter with a $200 neutering bill (after Simba tried to get it on with a professor's dog). This was followed by approximately $350 in bills for an ear infection that wouldn't go away. Next was the issue of table scraps. We decided when we got Simba that he should eat a 100% dog food diet. That lasted all of 3 weeks until we discovered that if you feed him nothing he will pester you the entire meal, whereas if you feed him your last bite he will sit patiently knowing that his reward is coming. Finally was the issue of the cage. My dogs were never caged growing up. For the first week that we had Simba, the hubs insisted that he be in the cage every time we left the house since we didn't know if he would chew on things or leave us little gifts. After a week I decided that I felt like a meanie every time I put the dog in the cage so then we transitioned to only putting him in the cage to sleep. Within a month, however, we felt bad that we left him home alone so much so we decided to let him sleep in our bed to make up for our absence throughout the day.
Since then we (I) have bought him a rhinestone dog tag, a dog purse so he can go into stores with me, specialty dog treats and several other toys. He sleeps in our bed, eats some table scraps (which may have aided in his 1.5 pound weight gain), naps on the back of the couch during the day, has his own plane ticket for a trip that we are going to take this summer, and gets his belly scratched for a good half an hour every evening. When I want the dog to go find the hubs I say "Go find daddy!" to which the hubs responds "He's a dog, not our child." Then I say, "Don't be ridiculous." and we scratch Simba's belly.
He may not be a very good guard dog, but I feel better knowing that he is here and that he is a member of our family.
Surprisingly the impetus that led to our getting a dog was when a man in fatigues tried to break into our house last summer (I'll give more information about this sometime in the future and explain why I have no desire to venture into big cities). The hubs was a medical student and had to be away from the house pretty often to be on call. I told the hubs that I wanted a dog to protect me from future invaders. I began by looking at large dogs online, but the hypoallergenic breed that I wanted (goldendoodles) cost about $2000. Finally, I stumbled across a teensy cloud of poodle on craigslist that only cost $50. It was kind of difficult explaining to the hubs how a then 6.5 pound malnourished toy poodle could protect me from burglars, but in the end I prevailed.
Owning a dog has helped us to learn new facets about each other. This is mostly because the hubs and I entered this endeavor with different views regarding dogs. I grew up with 3 shih tzus who were a part of my family. My mom called me the dogs' sister and she was their mom. We fed them top quality food (which used to be dog food but my mom has since switched to feeding the last of the three dogs Sara Lee Deli Meat because of his chronic pancreatitis), provided them plenty of toys, and let them sleep in our beds. The only time that they went outside was to go to the bathroom or for the occasional walk. They went to the vet every time they had a sniffle or a sore.
The hubs' family owned hunting beagles. The dogs lived outside (I don't believe any dogs should live outside), ate scraps (including bones which can cause major intestinal problems), slobbered, rolled in the dirt and were, in general, gross. The dogs would sometimes escape into the woods when they got free from their post (if one of my dogs ran away I would not be able to sleep until they returned home safely). Instead of going to the vet they would live by the philosophy of "rub some dirt in it."
Simba has changed the way that the hubs has seen dogs, and the rules that we initially established quickly dissolved. The first issue we had is that we were immediately faced with a $500 dental cleaning/booster shot bill from the vet, followed shortly thereafter with a $200 neutering bill (after Simba tried to get it on with a professor's dog). This was followed by approximately $350 in bills for an ear infection that wouldn't go away. Next was the issue of table scraps. We decided when we got Simba that he should eat a 100% dog food diet. That lasted all of 3 weeks until we discovered that if you feed him nothing he will pester you the entire meal, whereas if you feed him your last bite he will sit patiently knowing that his reward is coming. Finally was the issue of the cage. My dogs were never caged growing up. For the first week that we had Simba, the hubs insisted that he be in the cage every time we left the house since we didn't know if he would chew on things or leave us little gifts. After a week I decided that I felt like a meanie every time I put the dog in the cage so then we transitioned to only putting him in the cage to sleep. Within a month, however, we felt bad that we left him home alone so much so we decided to let him sleep in our bed to make up for our absence throughout the day.
Since then we (I) have bought him a rhinestone dog tag, a dog purse so he can go into stores with me, specialty dog treats and several other toys. He sleeps in our bed, eats some table scraps (which may have aided in his 1.5 pound weight gain), naps on the back of the couch during the day, has his own plane ticket for a trip that we are going to take this summer, and gets his belly scratched for a good half an hour every evening. When I want the dog to go find the hubs I say "Go find daddy!" to which the hubs responds "He's a dog, not our child." Then I say, "Don't be ridiculous." and we scratch Simba's belly.
He may not be a very good guard dog, but I feel better knowing that he is here and that he is a member of our family.
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