Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Oy

Last week sucked balls.

I missed my swing dancing class that I was SOOOO excited about!  I got off work early and everything just to find out the class was actually at 6:30 and not 7:30!  I was pretty bummed.

The next morning (dreaded Tuesdays) I had to drive to Troutdale to drop Tula off with my mom at her work.  It should only take me 1/2 to get there... an hour and 15 minutes into my drive and I wasn't even close, in fact I was borderline late for work, so I had to give up and take my lunch break to drop her off.

I don't even remember the other things that went wrong, it just seems like everything did.  Troy was denied a secured credit card, which really blows because he needs credit for us to get a house! Two of my coworkers are breaking up with their boyfriends (both fairly long term relationships) and that just gives a depressing air to the entire organization.  We had significant computer issues effecting our Point of Sale software.  I forgot to put cheese on my turkey sandwich (it's the best part!). It was little things like that, they just kept piling up until I was frustrated and exhausted.  The worst was that it wasn't just Monday and Tuesday, but the ENTIRE week was like that.  I think it's noteworthy to mention there was a full moon.

My weekend wasn't much better, although it wasn't particularly bad either.  I spent Friday and Saturday night at my mom's farm babysitting my sister.  I don't know if I have mentioned yet, or not, that my sister has a severe neurological disability.  She cannot walk or talk or use her fine motor skills.  She has to wear a diaper and have people feed her; she enjoys toys and shows aimed at toddlers (she turns 21 this year).  Yet, she does understand a LOT more than most people give her credit for.  She listens and can do some things (big movements, like wheeling her wheelchair, handing items to people, turning on and off toys and the TV, things like that).  She is also the happiest, most vibrant person I have ever met.  She loves being hugged and kissed.  She can't talk in English, but she does have her own vocabulary made of gestures and noises.  She has shaped me to be a far better human being than I would have if I had a "normal" sister with whom I would have been in constant competition in (I'm sure of it!).

Anyway, with all that being said, no matter how much I love my little sister there is no doubt that babysitting her (and the many dogs at mom's house, including two of my own) comes with many responsibilities.  So the weekend was less than relaxing even though I didn't actually do anything.

But it's all good.  Life would be unbalanced if there were no bad weeks.  Plus, I'm willing to pay my dues for all the very wonderful things that are happening in my life (I have a tremendously good relationship, awesome animals, a loving family, a good job, luxury items to keep me constantly entertained, food on the table, lights in the apartment, the list goes on!).

And around the first of February I should be able to give my loan officer the go-ahead to run my credit and actually get the ball rolling on a new house.  If that isn't exciting and happy enough then I am very ungrateful!  Despite the rough start, I am confident that 2011 is going to be a great year!

Tuesday, January 11, 2011

1/11/11

I just want to talk for a minute about my step-father.  I'm thinking about him a lot today because today was his and my mom's 13th wedding anniversary.  He died last month of cancer, and it was a very sad thing, but the way he went and his ability to say goodbye to everyone he loves made all of us capable of handling it.

Everyone has to die.  It just has to happen, for all our technology and medicine, we can't stop people from dying, and I don't think that we should. I think when it happened to my step-dad people expected me to be much more broken hearted, hell, I expected myself to be more broken hearted, but I wasn't, and I think that actually says a lot about him more so then it does about me. He made it bearable for me by letting me know every single time I talked to him, how proud he was of me and how much he loved me. There were no regrets.  

More importantly, he left in such a way that, though he was her best friend and greatest love, my mom is able to continue with her life without a shatter heart break. I don't really know how to explain it, she is grieving and she misses him, but she, too, has absolutely no regrets.

I wish I could go on, but I'm having a lot of trouble finding the right words, and now I'm getting tired. Part of the point is that he took care of my mom even in dying, and in that way he is taking care of me.  I was so worried about today. After he had died we had to plan the memorial services, and there was family all around; then the holidays came and there was family all around, but I knew that today, their anniversary, there wouldn't be anyone for her except myself and my grandmother, and I thought of all times this would be the worse for her.  It's devastating to know someone you love so much can be in so much pain and there is nothing you can offer in the way of relief. But she's ok, and that makes me ok

Boring

I just want to say to RaeAnn, I have no passions either!!

There are a lot of things I want to try to do, but I'm not really "passionate" about anything and I'm never really that good at something.  I kind of know how to knit, I kind of know how to sew,  I kind of know how to play the saxophone, I'm ok at writing but never have any good ideas, I kind of know how to play video games, but not super baller...the list goes on. The thing is, you can't be more than mediocre at anything unless you are 1) born with amazing genius talents or 2) (more likely) put a LOT of time into getting good at it.  I just don't care enough about one thing to dedicate that much time.  I don't think it's just me and Rae, I think a lot of people are in the same boat.

I am excited to start my dance class, but I'm sure we won't practice outside the weekly classes so, again, I won't become some amazing dancer. I just want to get one good choreographed dance so that when Troy and I get married in 2013 (diamond ring is on the New Years resolution list, so it's not official yet) we can rock out that first dance.

Anyway, sometimes I'm bummed about not having a definitive hobby, I wish that there was something I was really good at. Then I try to look at it from another angle, maybe I shouldn't be sad that there isn't one thing I'm good, but focus on everything that I know even a little bit about, and be proud that I know that much and could build on the knowledge if I wanted to.  And why do it if it doesn't make you happy? You can't force a hobby. If you try knitting and it becomes a chore before you know how to make more than a scarf, whatever, stop and pick it up later, or never.  Life is about being happy, not about forcing yourself to do something that you hope makes you happy if you put enough energy into it.  It probably won't. You'll probably just resent the time it's taking away from things you wish you were doing (even if that other thing is mundane like reading or TV or kitty cat time).

Take this blog. I'm not very good at it, I'm pretty sure only one person is reading it (thank you RaeAnn!), but  rambling on and on is somehow satisfying so I'll keep going until it's not.  Then it will go in the book of Things I Kinda Did Once.

Sunday, January 9, 2011

Title

Today is Sunday. Not a great one because I had to go into work for a volunteer orientation. It's the only one I have to attend just to see how it's done, and I've been putting it off, so I finally sucked it up and just went. It sucked about as much as I expected, but at least its over. Check!

The rest of my weekend has been spent eating copious amounts of sugar and playing World of Warcraft. I love this game, although I like to keep my little affair with MMORPG's under wraps in the real world. It's weird though, a lot of the game is about building online relationships with people through questing together and going into dungeons (I don't wear glasses, but pretend I just pushed them up while snorting), but that's the only part of the game I hate! I freak out when a stranger comes near me; the last thing I want to do is have to interact with someone I don't know! Stranger danger! Stranger danger! I guess I'm afraid that they'll find out how truly horrible I really am at the game despite 4 years of playing (on and off). Honestly, I'm pretty bad. Mediocre at best. It's ok with me, but I don't want to drag other players down with me.

In other news Troy is finally cooking dinner. Thank goodness, I'm starving here!  That's pretty much how it goes, Troy cooks ALWAYS and I do the dishes ALWAYS. If Troy  is gone for some reason there is a good chance I won't eat.  If I'm gone for someone reason there's a good chance I'll come back to the Leaning Tower of Crusty Dishes.  But we like it this way. It works. Especially because he is a really, really good cook. There are a lot of restaurant meals I don't even like anymore because he makes them better! That also makes us to eat healthier (except for the aforementioned copious amounts of sugar).

Part of our New Years Resolutions is getting healthier. We aren't too bad off, neither of us are overweight and I don't think we are excessive eaters, but part of that is definitely luck. We don't exercise regularly, and we keep getting into these ruts of just eating shitty food for weeks at a time (like fast food several times a week, or coating all our homemade meals in cream sauces and cheese).  Definitely need to fix that! It's something we were working on last year, and did really well during the summer, but then we both got new jobs and our schedules changed and then fall came with it's darker days and then the holidays and then my stepdad passed away and it's been a mess. But we're ready now, first we're changing our food and then we'll add in exercise.

Speaking of exercise, we are going to be taking a swing dancing class (courtesy of my Nana) starting a week from Monday. Super stoked!

I know this is an unseemly and abrupt end to the post today, but I just got distracted for like 1/2 an hour and now dinner is ready! I'll beback!

Oh, real quick, I just want to mention that we watched Shutter Island last night (I know old-ish movie, but I've been wanting to see it) and I LOVED it! It's my favorite kind of horror movie, less pop-out and scare you and more psychological thriller.  It got pretty neutral reviews, but I would recommend it to people who like those kind of movies. Plus I'm in love with Leonard DiCaprio. Ok, dinner is waiting, bye!

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Bad Juju

There is something about this particular spot in the apartment that smells like Vicks Vapo Rub and makes my eyes burn. Granted my eyes might be burning from staring at the computer monitor and not remembering to blink. But the smell is weird and I cannot find the source.

Today was a long, hard day.  It was one of those days that I wanted to burst out in tears for anything remotely negative that happened (not PMS, it was a good guess though). I think I'm feeding off my boss' mojo, I think her and her long time boyfriend are splitting up. :( She's being cool about it, no anger redirections or anything like that, but she's really sad, and I think I'm kind of feeding off the vibe even though I have nothing to be sad about.

Alright, well, I'm going now. Happier posts in the future, tomorrow is Friday after all!

Wednesday, January 5, 2011

Virgin Post

I have an acquaintance at work that gave me the code to her blog. I read it and thought it was brave of her to put her voice out there, and it made me want to do it too. I was feeling all gung-ho about it until I got to the part of creating my background and now I'm feeling drained.

Nonetheless, onwards shall I go.

I am a person. I live on Earth and my name is Shannon. I have a boyfriend. His name is Troy (I figure any information that can go on Facebook might as well be blogged about).  I met Troy when I was 12. I crushed hard on Troy when I was 13, and I was asked to our first high school dance by Troy when I was 14.  I am 23 now and have never dated/kissed/room-mated with anyone else. I feel this is important. When I talk about Troy, I feel like I'm just talking about myself. Only a myself that has a hairier chest (and legs, but only because I shave mine).


Anyway, we have an apartment. We are nearly in the process of looking for a house mostly thanks to my mother and a dog named Tula. Tula is a magical, wonderful, very well behaved 10 month old (66 lb) Mastiff puppy. I love this dog. I am honored to have adopted her. However, we have an apartment (with other animals, but I'll get to them in a minute). My mom is incredible too, (that will have to take another post, it's too hard to discuss my  mom in a matter of sentences) and willingly accepted the burden of MY new dog (puppy, although we didn't quite know that at the time) until I get a house. Having a puppy eat through several cords and part of her steering wheel really motivated her on motivating us to get this house thing going.  So we are.  More to come.

So of those other animals I mentioned let me go in to detail based on their arrival into my life:

First, is a 6 year old Corn Snake named Kiya. I love all animals, and for a long time I had a particular attachment to reptiles. Christmas 2004 my mom and stepdad  surprised me with a little snake hatchling, she was no bigger than the span of my hand.  It's impossible to know at that age what gender a snake is (unless you get it professionally sexed, but why would I do that?) so naming her was difficult. One day my mom came  in and said she had had a dream about my snakeling and it was a female and should be called Kiya (years later I found out this dream was actually pot induced). So I went with it. Now that the snake is fully grown (around 5 ft long) I am convinced it is a male, but it doesn't know the difference so rather than renaming it Kyle I'm sticking to Kiya and will continue referring to it as a she.

Second is Crickett McBickett. My mom works at a county animal rescue and has been fostering dogs since I was a teenager. One of our many fosters was a Jack Russell Terrier mix atrociously named Farley. Up until this point we had always owned large dogs and I pretty much ignored all the small fosters.  But this little guy was different. He was awesome. He is a scruffy little thing with a huge personality!  We tried to re-home him, but when he was rejected from one (obviously insane) family we gave up and kept him for ourselves (renamed him Crickett). After I moved to San Francisco for college (Fashion Institute of Design and Merchandising, FIDM) my mom called me up to say that Crickett was a little shit-disturber and was driving the big dogs nuts. She would need to re-home for real. I vetoed that decision and instead found a dog-friendly apartment. He and Troy moved in with me at the same time (it was a studio apartment so it was a tight squeeze).

Third, Sir Petrie Fatticus.  After I graduated FIDM Troy and I moved down to Los Angeles so he could  study cinema makeup effects (think gory monster movies). I had met a woman while working at the LA County Fair (classy, I know) who fancied herself an animal rescuer. She told me about this kitten she had rescued from her neighbors roof and asked if I wanted it. Knowing full well of  Troy's immediate refusal I rushed the kitten home without telling him and made sure to be home before he got there. Who can say no to a kitten when the deal is done? Troy can't. So we kept him, saved him from fleas and  dehydration (he was suffering badly from both) and now he is my most loyal cat, although afraid of everyone and everything else.

Fourth, Willa Gallimimus. Proof that you shouldn't buy a kitten based on fur color. A tip for the kids, if the cat is orange, brown, white and beautiful it's going to be a bitch!  I should give her more credit, she is my only female and I love her, but man. Here's a cat (rescued from a shelter in LA) that will only be affectionate on her terms (only when she is sitting on the rug in front of the bathtub and you are trying to get in the shower quickly because your late for work) and will shit on aforementioned rug if the litter box is not adequately cleaned, which ok fine, keeps me from getting  too lazy. Anyway, her name is from a dinosaur she sounded like when she was a baby, those squeaky green ones from Jurassic Park II, except I looked up the wrong dinosaur and the Gallimimus is what was running in a herd in Jurassic Park one, but Willa Compsognathus didn't ring as well.

Fifth and (finally) Sixth, Little Head and Big Head. 2 more cats. Yes, more. I'll save you the trouble, thats 4 cats in all, 2 dogs and 1 snake (now you see why I REALLY couldn't have Tula at the apartment! I'd  get  evicted as is). Big and Little were two rescued kittens. Their mom was a feral cat some douche tried to bring to the shelter in a hooded litter box with tape as the "door." Mama Cat got out and left two 1 week old kittens behind.  My mom (who works at the shelter, as I mentioned) took them home to give bottle feeding a try. She had them for about 3 weeks, but then one of her dogs tried to eat one (he knew how to open doors), so she gave them to me to finish bottle feeding and wean. Try bottle feeding kittens and not keep them, seriously try it, I applaud people who can do it because I failed. But so happy I did because they are stupendous! Both kittens were black, neither one had a single distinguishing feature EXCEPT one had a bigger head. Hence Big Head and Little Head. I later tried to change their name but to no avail.

I love animals. Hence the novel about each one. It is very fitting then that I, myself, work at an animal shelter.

My 15 minute writing session has turned into an hour, so it's time to take the dogs out and go to bed. I promise to write about more than my animals.

Goodnight.