Year In Review

2010 had it's ups and downs. Overall it's been a busy, jamb packed and at times super stressful year.

The big bummer and heartbreak of 2010 was my dad's official diagnosis. Add to that 48 total credit hours, 18 of which were taken this last semester. Bailey got 2 tickets this semester and I've been stressing over that and her ever since.

But, a lot of good has happened too. I met dr soc in February. I ran 2 half marathons this spring and I ran them well. I decided that I want to be a librarian and started looking into grad school. A couple of my friends got married. And those 48 back-to-back stressful credit hours earned me my bachelors. Which, not going to lie, highlight of my year.

So, yeah, like I said, ups and downs. But overall, it was pretty balanced. I told 2010 to bring it, which it did, and life goes on, good or bad. 2011 has some stuff in store for me, I'm moving to North Carolina and moving in with my boyfriend, I'm applying to grad school, I'm running more races, one friend is having a baby, another is getting married, (not to mention I'm hoping to get engaged myself). So I'd like 2011 to bring it as well, at or around the same level as 2010.

Cheers!

Top Post 2010

In no particular order, my favorite posts and their companions/runner ups from 2010!
Ta-da!

1. Quarters. 2/16/10 Because anything said with my dr friend is hysterical. Runners up are: Appearances Can Be Deceiving and This is why we're friends. 10/5
2. It's Not a Party Until Someone Looses Their Pants. 1/4 also anything that includes pants (or lack there of) is funny.
   
3. Found: One Set of Big Girl Pants, 6/21 (see! pants! funny!) Runners up: check! 5/29 and Upgrade 8/6 since I'm going with a dr soc theme
   
4. Hi Pot? It's Kettle! 4/22
   
5. Unicorn vs Dragon 10/17 Runner up: My Own Sophie's Choice. Sorta. 6/19
6. And the results... 3/28 and Run Sarah Run!
   
7. Simon Says. 2/28 Simply because it's awesome.
8. Urban Planning 10/15 snarky.
   
9. Compatible 7/11 Just another how awesome we are
   
10. Dear Mother Nature 3/23 Snarky and too the point
    
11. The Reveal 8/1 Runners up include What if... 5/31 and Future Talk 4/28
12. Walking 12/19 Go me!
    

Ho Ho Ho!

I became one of those people who dresses my dog.

Santa dog!

But seriously, can you blame me? Look how cute she is!

totally freaking adorable

Merry Christmas everyone!

Double Dipper

Want to hear what an awesomely good person I am? Cause I am.
I was able to give blood today so woohoo! The last time I tried to give blood, my iron was high enough but my veins wouldn't cooperate. I think I clotted too soon and the blood center couldn't get a usable donation from me. I was pretty miffed after all that.

Well, anyway, today got my butt to the blood center and my iron high enough to give. And the whole drive over to the blood center, I'm saying to myself, I will give blood today! I will give blood today! I will give blood today! Little engine that could style. And it worked because not only was my iron super high enough, my veins were cooperative and the vampire had no problems finding, sticking and getting a donation from me.

Being super please with myself, in that I was able to donate and that I didn't get dizzy, I also decided to forgo the t-shirt you get when donating. Those proceeds (or whatever) from the shirt goes towards the Salvation Army. With the move happening in 2 weeks (eep!), I don't need another t-shirt that I won't wear that often. And it was the nice thing to do too. I also had the option of movie passes, but they are only good at one theater and had to be used within the next week, so I didn't really want those either. So I donated twice today. I'm an awesomely good person.

Then I spent the next hour traipsing down the aisles of Liquor Barn and bought a case of wine*. So much for that avoid strenuous activities and no booze for 12 hours!
*Yep. Twelve bottles of wine.** Heavy stuff yo.
**Though in fairness, they are all gifts.***
***Three of them just happen to be for me.

Cookie Monster

I've never had to be one that watches my weight. I pretty much keep track of it just to know it. Yes, yes, I am aware of the evil glares I am receiving. Well, this Christmas, it seems to be that I am on a no cookie diet. Not because I'm worried about the extra pounds or in order to fit in my new years eve dress. I'm on a no cookie diet because my dad eats every single thing in the house, such as (especially) snack foods, entire bags of candy and every single Christmas cookie so that I don't get to have any.

This is mainly due to his dementia. He becomes fixated on something, like reading a book, fox news or anything food, and he has to finish it somehow. So he'll read 100 pages in a book, watch fox news for hours* or finish whatever food is out. Some examples would be all 4 servings of a family size ravioli for lunch one day. Six single serving applesauces in an hour. A bag of M&M's in a day. Three-quarters of a a family size bag of animal crackers in 4 hours. A half gallon of iced tea every afternoon. Eight carrot sticks in addition to soup and sandwich at lunch. A cookie sheet of rocky-road bark (homemade candy). Sixteen candy cane cookies in 4 hours. And today every last gingerbread cookie I had made in 20 minutes after lunch.

I made over 6 dozen gingerbread cookies. We (mom and I) froze at least 4 dozen of them to save them for ourselves and as possible oh-sh*t-you-got-me-something-so-here's-something-homemade-for-you-gifts (but mostly for eating ourselves). I took the box out today to give some to dr soc for his Christmas in Charlotte (he was here for graduation-squee!), and left the box out to thaw so I could have some later tonight. I didn't hide the cookies, dad took them when I wasn't in the kitchen, and now I have no gingerbread.

I like to bake and I don't mind making Christmas cookies. But I make them so me and other people can have them too god dammit!

*I do not approve of the fox news thing whatsoever and raise quite the fuss when it's on. However, we have taken away his driving* and nag him about everything else, we figure we can let him have his fake news source.
* He drove yesterday and I had a panic attack when I discovered he was gone. We have since hidden his car keys and refuse to let him know where they are.

Stick out

Saturday crowds at work are a grab bag sort. We have regulars, but most of the people we just don't remember because we see so many that day. But every now and again, people stick out.

No one out of the ordinary. A middle age mom with her two kids, who were probably around 5 and 3. Also with her was her elderly father, and he was being led into the department on the tightly held hand of his little granddaughter. The mom guided her dad to a chair and told him to sit there for a while while she and the kids looked for books. Which he did, he looked at few things the kids brought over to him, but he sat there with the same content but glazed confused look that my father has most of the time.

And it broke my heart, right there at work as I sorted. It just struck too close to home as I watched the old man smile without recognition. And I fiercely thought to myself, the only thing I want is for people to be nice to my dad. To not ignore him and be kind to another human being.

And then 2 days later, my impatience, frustration and anger got the better of me and I yelled at my dad for eating all the Christmas cookies in the house. Yelling doesn't help anything. Of all the places in the world, home, should be the one place that people are nice to him. Here I am asking the world to be nice to my dad, and I couldn't do it myself. And I hung my head in shame when I realized this.

Walking

Yesterday I walked across the stage at UK's December graduation and received my (long-awaited) BA.

Wait, my BA? How many of you are confused because you thought I had a degree? Well, here's what happened. Despite the years, the work and mental breakdowns, my cumulative gpa (from the years of work) was just a smidgen to low to actually receive the interiors degree. I walked at uc's graduation and found out 2 weeks later I didn't. By then I didn't have the strength to fight for it, mostly due to all the years, the hard work and mental breakdowns in addition to loosing 95% of my work 2 weeks before everything was due.

So if I told you I graduated, I was flat out lying to you. (I never lied on job applications though) I usually said I finished uc. Because I was finished. I was finished with that school, finished with all the courses and ridiculous demands, the design under the threat of death, the city, the constant feeling of inadequacy and the power that school held over me for a stupid fancy piece of paper. Finished. Done. I had been humiliated enough over the years. I could not go back to that school for anything, and I certainly was not going to grovel for something they didn't want to give me anyway.

It has undoubtedly been the most shameful thing in my life. But I went back to school. A new school, a school where I fit in and fit me a whole lot better. And I did ok. I may even say I did more than ok overall one day.

But as far as commencement went, UK only offered on ceremony in May. They never offered a December graduation until this year, and when presented with the opportunity I was really unsure if I wanted to walk. Because I have walked before. Sent the announcements. Had the pictures taken. And then....failure and shame. Despite my family's wishes, I still wasn't sure, because they will never understand how awful this could be for me. I know my mom wants her pictures, but I prefer to not have my humiliation frozen there on the mantel.

I mulled it over in my head for a while and decided to walk, even though I knew it would bring up bad and unsettling memories. I knew I wouldn't be able to enjoy the ceremony fully, knowing that it can and has been taken away. And that I'm still uneasy about it and I'll feel a lot better about the whole thing when I get the transcript or coveted fancy paper. But I also walked because I knew I'd regret it later if I didn't. Also to get my mother and sister off my case. I walked for the other students who didn't get this ceremony. And I wasn't going to shun the university who will award me a degree and let the one that didn't think I was good enough win. If I didn't walk, uc still wins over me.

So fuck you uc. You don't get to tell me I'm not good enough anymore. And I'm not letting you bite any more of my moments. I walked. I win.

**12/20/10 All my grades have been posted, my semester gpa is a 3.1 and my cumulative a 2.9. I really did it!

Hear What You Want to Hear

me: I'm going shopping and returning today.
what dr soc heard: I'm going shopping in maternity today.

Oh yeah, he freaked out a little bit. But once I started laughing at him he started to breath again.

Me (laughing): Honey, don't you think you would be the first person I would tell?
dr soc: I certainly hope so! I don't want find out by reading it on your blog!

Silly boys, so sensitive about these things. ;) <--did I really just put an emoticon?

Perspective

My dad has dementia, which many of you may already know or have guessed by now (due to my recent cryptic blogs). It's been far from easy in dealing with it, and it's a day in day out kind of deal. Things are stressful to say the least. Everything takes longer to do, thoughts don't get completed, frustrations and tensions are running high and our patience with one another is non existent.

I try, I really try to account for this, but my fuse is short. Patience is something I've never been that good at. He was helping me cut out Christmas cookies and it was a painstakingly slow process. Cut the dough with the cookie cutter. Take a knife and separate the shape. Inch by inch slide the spatula under the cookie, then handing the scrunched cookie to me so I could put it on the sheet. Wait until it was on the sheet before picking up the cookie cutter and starting the process over again. And I can tell he's concentrating and trying so hard, because he's sticking out his tongue. He's always done that when he was concentrating. He's enjoying himself and I wanted to snatch the cookie cutter away and take over. I danced goofily to Christmas music instead, but it's difficult.

But a friend of dr soc (and mine) buried her father yesterday and it put things in perspective. Because even though my dad worries and exasperates me on daily basis, at least he's still here. He isn't the same, but he's here. And I'm thankful for that.

Dear Santa

Dear Santa,
I've been a pretty good girl this year (I think) and I promise I'll leave out my bestest cookies for you on Christmas Eve.
So for Christmas this year I would like a cure for all dementia and Alzheimer's diseases very, very, very much please. And then I would like you to make it available for everyone so no one else in the world ever has to go through this again.

Thank you!
Sarah

PS. I would also like a pony.

I SO Want to be a Top Chef

Can I just say how excited I am that Top Chef All Stars is on? Cause I'm totally happy about it.
Sure, I only started watching Top Chef last season (DC) so I only know 2 of the contestants and I'm completely biased towards Tiffany Derry, but all in all, all of these chefs are BAMFs in the kitchen! (I also think Tre, is fiiiiine, despite the stupid spelling of his name) I have no idea whatsoever what 80% of the ingredients and techniques are, and I can't smell or taste anything they make, but I am hooked.

I tried to watch Top Chef Just Deserts, but it was a horrible spin off. In theory it works. Deserts! Cooking skill! Deserts! But on screen, seeing someone get their panties in a wad and bawling over red hots just doesn't make me care. (oh yeah, Seth, I'm talking about you)

My only small disappointment is that I want to hate Padma, but I can't. If I could be her for one day, I would take over the world. So as much as I want to hate her and her all over perfectness, I'm too busy coveting to do so.

Scared

I'm graduating in less than 3 weeks. I'm moving to Charlotte (and in w/dr soc) in 5 or 6 weeks.

I understand why people are asking me if I'm excited. I'd be asking the same thing. But I'm not excited.

I'm scared. I'm too scared that it won't happen. I'm too scared to get my hopes up. I'm too scared to enjoy myself and I'm too scared to be even a little bit excited.

So no, I'm not excited. And for the first time in many people's lives, I fail to have a response or anything to say.

Vote For Me!

I'm the process of compiling my fave posts of 2010.

I could just pick and choose my favorites like I did last time, so I've been culling through the past 11 months. Thing is, as I'm going through I'm noticing some of them link together pretty well and have running themes. (not to mention dr soc has been bulk of it the past 9 months which I know isn't annoying at all). So do I do a top ten flat out? Or maybe pick a few themes and then the favorite ones of those? Decisions, decisions.

So, here's your chance to throw in your 2 cents and tell me which ones are you faves and how I should organize them. Aren't you excited? I bet you are. I would like to know what you guys think, even it is only for my own ego boosting. Just leave a comment (you don't have to tell me why you like what you like if you don't want to) and we'll see how the votes unfold.

So the polls are open, let the tally begin! Woot!

Meaty

I did a last cleaning (out) of dr soc's freezer before he closed on his house here in Lexington. Amongst the spoils was some freezer burned Ben and Jerry's ice cream (I just scrape of the freezer burn, its fine) some frozen veggies/meal helpers, a bag of shrimp and some garden and turkey burgers.

Now dr soc is not a vegetarian. I would never be with a man who doesn't love bacon! But he's health conscious and likes to get the reduced fat low calorie stuff whenever he can. Or he'll have leaner meats such as turkey or a veggie burgers instead of cow. Though he never cooked with or even had olive oil until I gave him a bottle because I like to cook with it and was tired of asking if he had some even though I knew plenty well that he didn't.

Anyway, he had the fake burgers in the his freezer, which now reside in my freezer. In the previous fridge/freezer clean I had brought home a box or 2 of garden burgers, which are taking prime real estate according to my mom. So as I'm stuffing the last round of stuff in my (mom's) freezer, she walks into the kitchen and inquires as to what I've brought home.

me: turkey burgers
mom: god, more fake burgers.
me: yep pretty much.
mom: you are going to make him eat real meat again right?
me: of course!
mom: oh good!

Initials vs hypen

Conversation between me and dr soc in reference to our last names.

me: well I think the hyphen is bullsh*t. Though, since you don't think it is, if I hyphenated my name, would you hyphen yours?

dr soc: ...sure I guess

me: Though how does that work? For me, my last name would still be first of the two and I would still be in the T's. I would not move up in the alphabet at all and that is so not the plan! Where as if you would just tack on my last name and still be a B and whatever, no impact. Course, nothing says that since I was changing my name regardless that I couldn't put your name first.
dr soc: true.
me: But, good thing for all of us I'm going the traditional route and just taking your name. * But really, I'm just planning on adding your last name as a 4th name but I'll go by my first, maiden and your last name. **
dr soc: Sure. So your initials would be STB. Oh! Hehehe! (he flat out giggled!) That's really close to STD.
me: Uh huh. I realized that, which is why I can't ever marry a D even though it is top half of the alphabet. Good thing you're a B, because that's even better and I avoid some unfortunate initials. Though fully they'll be SATB, and that's really close to stab, which makes me happy. ***
dr soc: sure. snicker.

*at this point I distinctly remember thinking I better shut up because I was probably scaring him.
**obviously, I did not.
***really obviously did not.

Maybe I've Been in the Kids' Department a Little Too Long

So I actually had this conversation with my boss at work the other day:

me: I like monkeys! They're my favorite animal. Actually, no, they aren't my favorite. My favorite animal is the whole wide world is Bailey. My second favorite animal are dragons. And for a while I couldn't decide if it was dragons or unicorns but dr soc decided dragons were cooler and I agreed. Monkeys are after dragons. So my third favorite animal.

boss: Wow. You just said that like you were 5 years old.

me: Eh, at least I fit with the department!

Mommy Issues

You know who should listen to me but doesn't? My mom.
You know who doesn't listen to me and then is surprised when bad things happen? My mom.

On Bailey's walks, I now bring a bag of treats with me to use as a distraction and reward system. We've been having some good and uneventful walks together and I'm enjoying my time with my dog. But the walks take a little more time and coordination now. And because of this, I have stated that my dad is not allowed to walk Bailey at all since he cannot control her. Even though she has a new harness that deters lunging, I don't trust his coordination, her behavior and the two of those things together. He can accompany me or my mom on walks, but he is never to walk her by himself, and as far as holding her leash, that is no as well.

My mom lets him hold the leash. Because it requires less coordination than holding and dispensing the treats. But he still can't control her, and that is the problem. And this was proved when Bailey lunged in greeting another neighbor. While Bailey didn't get anywhere close to the neighbor and it wasn't the hateful one who's out to get my dog, it's a risk we can't have.

My mom called him and apologized. Fortunately, this neighbor wasn't bothered and has told us not to worry about it, so big sigh of relief. But OH. MY. GOD. The woman will not listen to me! I have told her to use the gentle leader when they take her out. Bailey hasn't worn that thing in months. I have told her to not let dad walk Bailey, and then she's surprised when Bailey jumps. There was the running issue a few weeks ago. I had to be the grown up in dealing with my dad's diagnosis. And she talks over me when she's too busy killing a joke instead of listening to whatever I have to say.

And while things with the dog are at an uneasy standstill for the moment, I'm just having a flash of the future and her not listening to me and dr soc when it comes to our kids. I'm more than ok with the kids having fun at grandma's house, cause that what you do there. But what if she ignores something important? And what happens if this frustration keeps building? Could it get to the point where we reach an impasse? I don't want it to have that kind of relationship with my mom.

It has to be hard for a parent to view and listen to their children as adults. But if she could just listen to me on the important stuff, maybe I wouldn't feel so strained.

Feminism

I decided I wanted a career as a librarian. So, yay, career!

But truth be told, I don't want my career to be my life. I don't want to work more than 40 hours a week and I don't want to take my job home with me. I have no desire to climb any type of corporate ladder. And I don't want to constantly hit my head on the glass ceiling while doing so.

So I picked a more family friendly career. Because that's ultimately what I want, my own family. I do want both, the career and motherhood. I don't want to have to choose between them and I'm grateful that I don't have to do so like I would have had to in the 1960's. I do want everything. I just don't exactly want it the way feminism tells me I should.

And you know what? I don't feel bad about that.

1950's House Wife

I don't think Dr soc is too keen on the idea of me being a kept woman. Something about social equality and all that other stuff he has his phd in.

And as fun as it would be to be a 1950's style housewife and do nothing but cook, clean the house and raise my 2 future Rhodes scholar children all while wearing pearls and heels, I'd frankly suck at the job. Mainly because I'm messy, have no children as of yet and a good 1950's housewife "knows her place" and lets her husband talk first. Which we know I hardly let him talk, let alone first. Nor do I have any pearls.

Oh and that whole know your place secondary to your husband status bull makes me stabby and that's still not a legal defense.

Explanation

I've been talking about how worried I am about my dad, but I haven't told the blogosphere exactly why I am. But I'm not going to do that now. My dad's oddities can be explained by one word. And I'm assuming many of you already know or can guess what that is, because you are smart people. That or I have told you personally, or you know what I was fearing for the past 2 years.

But this not reveal thing by simply not blurting it out is a slippery slope. On one hand, it's an instant explanation and we're granted understanding and (quite often) instant sympathy. So on that hand, it takes the pressure off the concealment. But on the other hand, there's pride, my dad's and my own. Which says, it's not anyone's business in the first place, and to keep my mouth shut. I don't want to label him for pride's sake, but also because I don't want to make him an easy mark. There are a lot of unscrupulous people out there in this world and you just never know.

So I explain when I have to. We get to keep our pride for a while. And we just continue to worry.

Stress Management

Everyone is telling me I need to manage my stress. Let's file that under the no shit sherlock category. It's pretty obvious I need to do so. My chest constricts several times a day. I get anxious and nervous just as often. I'm on the constant verge of tears and almost any little thing can start them.

I know that stress is a natural part of life. I just have a ridiculous amount of crap going on right now, and all that ridiculous amount of crap is really stressful crap. I know that I need to manage it. But the problem isn't that I haven't found the time to try to calm down and relax. It's that I don't have any place to do so.

I have no place I can mentally check out. School is school, where I need to be a senior student with 18 credit hours so I can graduate. Work, while not stressful in the slightest, is still work. But home is where my biggest stressers and things I worry about most are. My dog and my dad.

I'm constantly worried I'm going to come home to bad news. That Bailey lunged at another person, or another ticket or worse a citation. Or that the hateful neighbor has taken action. I'm worried that my dad has had a bad day, or walked the dog by himself. I worry that he'll get lost, hasn't eaten lunch or instead eaten every single snack in the house instead of lunch. I'm worried that when I talk to dr soc at night that if we start talking about my dog we'll get in a fight about her. And I hate that when the stress does get to be too much for me to handle and I break down, he's not here to let me sob on his shoulder.

So yes, I know I need to f*cking manage my stress. But until I find a place to do so, I'm pretty much shit out of luck.

RSVP

I'm partying it up at a my APX chapter's birthday bash right now. We're 10 baby! (Well, I'm trying to enjoy myself at least, I'm still in a constant state of worry)

Anyway, being the big shindig that it is, the chapter sent out invites and rsvp cards as well. And me, knowing a few things about etiquette, filled out my rsvp, wrote a check, put them both in the pre-addressed envelope included in the invite, and put it in the mail. I did this all in a timely manner.

I also mailed it without a return address or any postage. Yep.

Once I realized I had done so, I emailed the brother in charge and asked him to keep an eye out for it, just in case it got there. He (rightly so) laughed at me, but fortunately, the chapter got it anyway. Hence, the partying it up now with my brothers. I just owe one of them a stamp!

Why My Nerves Are Shot TO HELL

There is a neighbor who hates my dog. Hates her in the sense that they want to press charges. Bailey lunges at people and I know that is scary for some. She is always on her leash when we are outside and I am able to control her. And while she does lunge, she's never harmed anyone or anything. She's received 2 tickets from animal control in the past month and a half. Both of those times she was walking with my dad, who we know can't control Bailey, or even be able to tell me the full story. And both times it was the same person who called animal control. My mom talked to the neighbor which is how we found out who hates my dog, and that they want to, but won't yet unless we do something, press charges.

Of course I panicked. Big time. I called dr soc in an emotional frenzy and explained in between sobs while he wisely kept his mouth shut about his personal issues with my dog. He was able to calm me down some and help me down the rational path a little. My first step was that I had to find out what was going on, who had what rights and what can be done. So I called animal control and got some more details and helped me understand things a little better.

First, these are nuance complaints and not citations. Citations have court dates, and furthermore, my animal is not been categorized as a violent animal by animal control. The records show that I have followed up on both these tickets and they've been dismissed in a way.

Second: Animal control has never seen my animal, or any evidence of violence, which is why she is not categorized as a violent animal. Animal control needs to witness violence towards one of their officers or physical proof, such as a mauled (or dead) animal, a bite mark in order for them to issue the citation.

However, this neighbor can still press charges in a civil suit if they wanted too. But the burden of proof is on the person pressing charges. And as far as I know, there is none of that. Because Bailey hasn't harmed anyone. Yes I know she mouthed someone's arm, and that was scary. But she didn't bite, leave a mark and no physical harm was done. So if this was to go to court, for the moment I think it's my word against theirs.

I'm not making excuses for my dog. I have called a private trainer and we''ll get Bailey to stop lunging at strangers and calm down. I am the only one that is walking her now. I work with her on basic obedience every single night. And I stay the hell away from my hateful spiteful neighbor as well. We're moving in 2 months anyway. But even when I get her trained and if she were to become 100% perfect angle, I'm always going to have this threat of legality over my head now. And this all consuming fear that I could loose my dog sends me to tears at almost anytime of day. I'm trying to be as proactive as I can in this, but I am teetering on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I am always going to be on the defense when it comes to Bailey. I am always going to be fighting for her. And I don't know how much longer I can keep this up.

Sob Story

I have cried, or stopped myself from doing so, almost every single day for the past 2 weeks. Usually it's over my my dad, over my dog, the combination of those two, the frustration that won't ever go away, my classes or a test that I'm not ready for, no one listening to me and the feeling that even if I was able to convey how big a stress ball my life is right now that it doesn't really matter anyway.

What I really want to do is just sob. Cry fat sloppy tears and wail at the top of my lungs, kicking and screaming at the injustice of everything. To the point where I've literally cried out all my tears but I'm still hiccuping and eventually exhaust myself into a really deep sleep. But I don't even have the energy to get that started.

But what does it do? Crying doesn't solve anything. My life will still be a stress ball, my dad is still going to worry me, my boyfriend will still not trust my dog, still still still. So. I just continue to stop myself from crying.

I just wanted a dog

I just wanted a dog. I'd never had one before but I wanted one as an adult. A dog who I could walk and play with, who would protect me if I needed it and would be my companion. I wanted to take care of something and it would love me in return for it. So we got Bailey and I had what I wanted. I expected to have to deal with some accidents during the house breaking, her eating a few things she shouldn't and some frustration, but normal puppy stuff.

I did not expect to have to make the try-to-save or euthanize choice within the first week of being a pet owner. I did not expect to make that choice again 9 months later when knee gate occurred. I didn't expect to sink $2000 into her (now bionic due to the $2000) knees. I certainly didn't expect to leave my fiance and leave the dog with him after all that. I didn't expect (though I wasn't surprised) to have to find a new home for her when he couldn't take care of her. And I didn't expect my dad and mom to cave and let me have Bailey even though I pleaded, begged and cried for 5 days strait as I was trying to find a new home for her. So then I got Bailey for real again and then I had what I wanted.

So after all that, I'm a little lax and forgiving when it comes to Bailey. Because I'm just grateful that she's A: alive and B: all mine. But dr soc isn't as lax a pet owner as me and Bailey makes him nervous. And even though our dogs like each other, he's always going to be worried about Bailey and her behavior. So I'm in this awful place of feeling that one day I may have to choose between him and my dog. He makes me happy and with him I can have everything I've ever wanted. Bailey makes me happy because I've fought tooth and nail for her and she loves me unconditionally.

::whimper::. I just wanted a dog.

Bla Bla Bla

So I get that when you a person who talks a lot, that not everyone listens to you at all times (not even your boyfriend, though he makes a valiant effort). But to not listen to me all the time just pisses me off. Like my mom does. I'm not even going to get into the not listening thing with my dog issue right now. I'm frustrated at her for a running issue.

After I jumped on the long distance running bandwagon with my sister's encouragement, my mom did too. So she's all proud of herself and running and decided maybe she'll want to do a half marathon like both her girls have done.

First, it takes her months of maybe-I-will-maybe-I-wont talk just to idea of running the thing in the first place. And then another few months to commit to sign up and pay for the damn thing after my sister and I told her to put her money where her mouth is just do it already. My sister promises to run the race every step of the way with her and finally mom dilly dallies int a decision to go for it. And I'm a little jealous because I wanted to do a race this fall too, but I know I wouldn't have the time to train for it this semester.

So now she's training and all is well, and race day is this Saturday. Both my sister and I tell her (repeatedly) to not run more than 10 miles for her longest run and to taper off the week before the race. Because that's what we've both done and we've completed 8 (I think) half marathons between us. So mom decides to not listen and runs 11 miles on Sunday and twists her ankle. So race day was not looking like a possibility right then. However, Mom saw a sport doctor on Wednesday. And they said she wouldn't do any more damage to the injury and it was ok to run on Saturday. So race day is still on!

And now, mom's thinking about not doing the race. WTF, I am ready to scream at her. She got the injury by being bullheaded and not listening to both my sister and I. You know, runners. (so we're not pros. We're still f*cking runners) And then, a SPORT DOCTOR tells her it's ok to run and she gets all trepidations about it. You know, someone who went to med school and specializes is this stuff and who is a professional. Their advice isn't good either!

I had to rearrange my work schedule to see her run this. I have to study this weekend after her race in addition to watching my dad the entire time. I had to find a dog sitter (thanks Laura btw!). My sister bought her plane ticket and just finished her 5th marathon last Sunday (yay Amy btw!). Frankly I think she's just being a sissy. But by telling her to suck it up I look like the ass hole.

Tweet Tweet

I saw this book at work the other day:

cover courtesy of Amazon

And my initial response was to say this out loud: no monkeys don't tweet, but there are a lot of monkeys on twitter. --pause-- I can't believe I just said that.

Yep. I don't know either.

Higher Education

I just confirmed my appointment to take the GRE. ::eep::

Yep, I want to go to grad school. I wasn't sure if I would want to go back to school again after doing the same thing almost 2 years ago. But after working in a library it's pretty much only a matter a time that you want to be a librarian yourself.

However, to be a librarian you need to have a Masters in Library Science (sometimes it's masters of library and information science depending on the program). Masters means grad school. Which means I need to take the GRE (among many other things).

I found an accredited library school program in Charlotte which is what spurred the decision to at least try for it. I'm putting all my eggs in one basket since this is the only program I'll be applying to. But I have to try. And taking the GRE is one of the first steps in doing so.

Holy crap. I'm doing this.

Happy Hore-o-ween

I think the following disclaimer should be on all slutty (ie: woman's) costumes:
This is a "costume." Not a miracle worker.

Because really?

a sexy plumber. including crack.

or this:

a sexy remote control. Sigh.

Hey why are they all blond btw? Because brunettes don't get told enough they aren't enough fun or anything.

But this:

sexy sesame street. Gee, perv much?

crosses a line.
Sesame Street? Whore up your own wardrobe one night of the year fine, but keep iconic children's figures out of it.

So. Happy Halloween!

Shocking

Fall finally arrived! Which means one thing:

The season of every time I get in or out of my car a bolt of static electricity runs through my fingers and up my arm.

I mean, what gives? It doesn't mater if I touch the plastic or metal of the door, if I'm wearing cotton or wool, I'm with or without gloves, if it's raining, snowing or perfectly pleasant out side. I open the door and zap! That telltale crack sounds and I get shocked.

Does anyone else have this problem? No? Just me? Ok then.

Assvice

So my dog's behavior is all my fault. I get it, I f*cked up. Again. I have to train her so I don't continue to have the stench of failure all over me. So I turn to the interwebs. Which is full of assvice.
Like this:

1. You should first start by socializing them as a puppy. Considering she's 3, we missed that step. F*ck up number one. We were too busy trying to be responsible pet owners and not get everyone else's dogs deadly sick when she was a puppy to socialize her. Sorry.
2. Don't physically or verbally abuse. Fair enough, but what exactly do you do when they do something bad? Say no in a pleasant sing song voice to not hurt their feelings? No harmless swat on the nose to feel shame? You know, this hippy dippy feel good shit doesn't work on everyone. Sometimes old school is the way to go. (I am not advocating beating your dog. I am merely saying that a two finger bip on the nose was a good enough lesson for Bailey during potty training)
3. Don't use shake cans because that will trigger aggressive behavior. Yeah, except the shake can works. And the sweet sing song voice doesn't.
4. Have other people outside the family/people who live in the house help with the training. (When getting the dog to stop barking at strangers) Because my friends have time for my problems.
5. Use a firm, controlled voice. Fine, I can do that. However, my dad mumbles and enunciates worse than me, so guess who thinks she's the alpha?
6. Only give treats for good behavior. Yes, I know, that daily slice of cheese was a behavior I should have stopped immediately.
7. Muzzle them to stop biting. Well, that would be fine and dandy if my mother didn't feel embarrassed for Bailey and then stop the corrective behavior mid training.
8. Or use a shake can whenever they start biting. The same shake can I'm not supposed to use so I don't trigger aggressive behavior?
9. Work with a professional trainer. Sure, as soon as I have a free 5-10 weeks and can pay in hopes and crushed dreams, I'll get right on that.

You know what interwebs? FUCK. OFF. I'm going to trust my instincts and train my dog how I want to. Even though this is how she got so "bad" in the first place. Kiss my ass.
So. Anyone wonder why I'm so frustrated over my dog?

Tired

I am tired. Of so many things.

• I am tired of balancing 18 credit hours, a part time job, a long distance relationship, automatically going to worry about my dad, no one listening to me and a misbehaving dog.
• I am tired that as soon as I balance all of the above something shifts and I'm off balance again.
  
• I am tired of not acknowledging how stressed I am.
• I am tired of Bailey being ornery, being embarrassed over my dog's behavior and her lack of basic obedience.
• I am tired of hunting for time to train her and not finding it.
• I am tired of all the training "assvice" on the web that says my dog's behavior is all my fault. (read all about it in tomorrow's blog).
  
• I am tired of accepting my dog as is, but that other people do not, and the assvice from those people on how to take care/discipline her.
• I am tired of knowing no matter what training I implement won't ever be good enough.
• I am tired of the line in the sand dr soc and I have over her.
• I am tired of his dog being so much better than mine.
• I am tired of banging my head against a brick wall when trying to get my dad to have better health habits.
  
• I am tired of worrying about the best way to take care him and that I need to do so in the first place.
• I am tired of always f*cking multitasking, inevitably dropping something while doing so and the feeling of ineptness that accompanies that.
• I am tired of trying to be perfect for everyone else.
• I am tired of being in fear that I will fail again, and people telling me it will be ok when they have never been in my position before.
• I am tired of that even though I'm working my ass off and doing well in school I'm still not proud of myself.
• I am tired of walking a few miles to and from school even though I take the bus to campus.
• I am tired of my bus being more of an inconvenience than a benefit.
• I am tired of being a poor college student.
• I am tired of not having the time to regularly work out even if it is just to clear my head.
• I am tired of my jeans not fitting and not having the time or energy to fix that, or even the money to just get new ones.
• I am tired of back burner stuff becoming front burner stuff. Especially when the front burner stuff remains on the front burner on high.
• I am tired of having burners.
• I am tired of micro-managing my day into half hour increments.
• I am tired of constantly revamping those half hours into my schedule, and having to shuffle things around.
• I am tired of stressing when something goes wrong and not being able to competently deal with it like I have before.
• I am tired of not having time to see my friends.
• I am tired of not being able to see my boyfriend.
• I am tired of when I do get to do something fun , that I have to plan for it, and that I have to do so much work before hand that I can't enjoy myself fully.

I. Am. Tired.

Vroom Vroom!

So. I got a new car yesterday!

my new car! shiny! squee!

It's a 2005 Toyota Corolla, so it's used, and it's all mine mine mine!

We traded in my beige 98 Mazda protege, which we got for my sister and I in 2001. It was a good car, it was just old and on it's last legs/wheels. With me moving in a few months, we (me, dr soc, and my mom) were worried that it wouldn't get me to where I needed to be safely. And even if it did get me to Charlotte, when it broke there, we wouldn't know who could fix it.

So. New car for Sarah!

Just a quick far thee well to my protege (who's name was Davy btw). I was a smidgen sad when I handed my keys over to the dealer. But then I got the keys to my newer shinier model (much like a midlife crisis trophy wife trade), hoped in, opened the sunroof and drove away with my Corolla, happy as a clam.

Vroom Vroom!

Secrets Secrets Are No Fun

Unless you share with everyone. Which I call bullsh*t on that because having a secret is super duper fun in my opinion. Not that I can keep a secret anyway. Well, I may not tell you the exact information that I have, but I will let it be known that I know something and I won't tell you what that something is!

Well anyway, dr soc and I are both of the opinion that when the time comes for us to have children, we're not going to find out the baby's sex (not gender, because gender is a social concept and I don't really want to get into the semantics of why sex and gender are not the same. But they aren't and my sociologist future husband/baby daddy will agree with me on this). But it's because we both want that surprise and the "it's a ___!" moment for ourselves. And the only way to ensure we get that moment, is for us to not know. Which may annoy some people, but pfsh, it's ours and we'll do what we want.

My friends found out what they were having but managed to keep it surprise until their daughter was born. Which, props to them becasue I couldn't do that. (I think they are planning on doing that again too, so squee!) If I knew, I would undoubtedly slip at some point and refer to it as he/she. Then I would start telling everyone once I slipped.

I mentioned that dr soc and I are simpatico on this, which is just another reason how awesome we are together. At some point the do we find out or not came up in our conversations, and we discovered that we of the like mindset. Phew. But I mentioned my friends who were able to keep the secret, and then also said that would never work for me. He agreed:

"As much as your mouth moves there's no way that news would stay in there."
Snort. Oh, how he knows me so well!

Career Girl

After a night at work where I spent more time kid wrangling than book wrangling:

me: I've changed my mind, I don't want children. Ever.

Co-worker: sure ok.

Me: yep. I've decided that my life long dream of being a mother is a silly endeavor. I will now be a career woman.

--pause--

Crap! Now I have to want a career...

Unicorn vs Dragon

Pumpkin 2009: Unicorn!

Pumpkin 2010:
Dragon!

In the battle of Unicorn vs Dragon, the winner in terms of:

• Use of exclamation points: draw.
• Simplicity of pattern: unicorn.
• More wiley pumpkin due to thickness of rind: dragon.
  
• Amount of details: dragon.
• Intricacy of pattern: dragon.
• Use of greater knife wielding skill: dragon.
• Amount of curse words used during carving due to more complicated pattern: dragon.
• Impressive factor: dragon.
  
• Has greater potential to scare trick-or treaters thus leaving us more candy: dragon.
• Bad assness: dragon.

Clear winner:
DRAGON. ROAR!!!!!

Urban Planning

Lexington did a mad dash to improve the downtown street scape before the World Equestrian Games. So they repaved (thus making me fight the urge to throw up bile every time I left work) and prettied up the sidewalks doing I don't know what.

However, someone in the (urban) planning office did some miscalculations...
Behold.

The traffic lanes before:

The lanes lined up and there were no lines in the intersections because the lanes lined up.

And even though they didn't move any of the buildings' facades (you don't have to be a designer to understand why you can't simply move an entire building), or give us any additional lanes or take any traffic lanes away...

The traffic lanes after:

The lanes clearly don't line up, and they had to put guide lines through the intersections because of it.

Planner fail. (Perhaps they are an Itt tech grad?)

Sophomore Snots

It's been a while since I've done just a judge to be judgy post hasn't it?

Have you ever notice how awful sophomores are? Seriously, they're just annoying little piss ants. They know everything since they've "done the college thing" for a whole year now. They're always, always the one who tries to argue with the teacher or start a debate in class but all they do is stir sh*t up.

Yeah, these kids are roughly 10 years younger than me, so by default they fall into they will annoy me category. And usually when something/one annoys me, I place an unwarranted judge to be judgy judgment on them for my own personal fun.

There's this one girl in my inequalities class who is always confrontational in her comments and tries to start a debate. Needless to say, I don't like her, and neither does anyone else. Plus she dresses in pseudo grunge/emo way, and, ugh, she's just giving me more ammo.

In fairness I do know that most 19 year olds are just that, 19 and young*. And young people are just trying to find their place and "who they are," and the wise assness just comes with the territory. But that doesn't stop me from rolling my eyes and dismissing that girl every time she opens her mouth (which is often).

*I know I was very typical 19 year old. Though I didn't argue with the teachers or my classmates. But then again, I've never been a confrontational type of girl either.

Real Estate Makes Me Stabby

Considering how much I hate apartment hunting, I figured house hunting would be along the same vein. After one day of tagging along with my dr friend last summer as she house hunted, I was exhausted. So I knew when it came time for me to be a grown up and own property, I was in for an arduous (which, btw, is my new fave word) process.

I like the concept of house hunting. Going into other people's homes and judging (what?), knowing you can change ugly, all the possibilities, and the excitement of finding a place to call your own and place to come home to. That sounds cozy and homey and totally squee!

But the actual hunting? Uhhhh. It's much more taxing than I had anticipated. Not to mention the financial aspect of it is about as clear as mud. While I didn't expect the process to be as fun and carefree as running through a field of daisies, (which, way fun!) it's certainly not as idealistically romantic as you hope it will be either.

So, to all you house hunters out there: god speed. May you find something you love with little process. Or, or, you can always go the way I did. Which is to have your boyfriend buy himself a house, then you claim a spot in the garage and make plans of what colors you want to paint the place. Thus, I avoid the stabby of real estate and I get to live with my favorite socasauraus. It's a win win for me. (The financial aspect if still clear as mud though. But I'll figure that out soon enough)

Name Calling

On my birthday I found out that my friend's dad had a first name.

Me: Your dad's name is Bob?
friend: yeah... always has been...
me: I don't think I knew that.
dr soc: wait, you didn't know his name? What had you been calling him?
me: Mr Train!

Call me old fashioned, but I was taught as a girl you call adults by Mr and M(r)s so-and-so until they tell you other wise. So if I was introduced to someone as a kid (or high school student) and they were mr and mrs so-and-so then, to this day still call them mr and mrs so-and-so, because they have not told me other wise. (w/the exception of my other friend's parents. Them I've always called Daddy and Mommy P)

This Is Why We're Friends

me: have you seen the previews for the movie Burlesque?
dr friend: no, what's it about?
me: it has Christina Aguilera and Cher.
dr friend: we're there.


http://www.sonypictures.com/previews/movies/burlesque/clips/2596/

Stuff

Both times that I've visited dr soc in Charlotte I've moved a few (snort) things to him in the same trip. Which no big deal, except when he wants me to bring something that's oddly shaped.

The first trip he wanted his vacuum cleaner, which I had a whale of a time getting in the car. It's bulky and awkward. I was running an hour behind schedule, had a 7 hour drive ahead of me, and my dad was trying to help but was just getting in the way not to mention was the reason I was an hour behind schedule. My mood was testy to say the least. So here I am, trying to shove his stupid vacuum cleaner in the backseat of my rental car, when it slips and jambs my finger and drew a little bit of blood plus a string of curse words. I then start cursing at him in North Carolina (where he can't hear me), and informed the moving gods that he better vacuum ever god d*mn day for all the trouble this mother f*cker was giving me.

Having not learned my lesson, the second trip, I brought him more stuff. This time it was some extra bedding in this giant tupperware crate and a filing cabinet. They were just a little too big to get into the trunk, but they fit in the back seat, so that was fine. However, this time, the weaselly bastard piece of furniture was the ironing board. Because it won't bend and is just a little too big to fit in the trunk as well. With some angling, trickery and brute force, (and cursing, of course), I managed to get that in the car and be on my way.

So I call him to tell him I'm on the road and to give an eta, but of course I give an account of all the injustices his stuff gave me as well. What kind of helpful girlfriend would I be if I didn't. And after wresting with the ironing board and definitely coming out more worse for the wear, I decided I'm not taking any more stuff. Because "you're stuff has the inherent ability to to pissing me off!"

Who You Going to Tell?

You can correctly assume that if you tell me something I will tell dr soc. Just as I assume that if I tell my girlfriends something they will tell their husbands. Oh yes, we know intimate details of each other's lives. It's just the way it works. You tell me, I tell dr soc, sometimes I tell my mom and then my girlfriends. That is unless my girlfriends are the one that shared the news with me then the rest of us know and we can skip that step. (Though I think it should be noted that I very rarely tell my boyfriends everything, even the ex. Some stuff, like dirty family business, needs to stay in the family). Though the reciprocal isn't the same, if you tell the guy something. Boys are better vaults it seems. Or maybe they just don't talk?

But I also know when it's not my news to share. Like when dr soc accepted the Charlotte job and I ended up talking to his dad on the phone. His dad didn't know all of the details and I knew a little more than him, but I let dr soc talk to him since it was his news to share and get excited about.

But heaven help you if you give me happy or gossipy news, I'll want to tell so bad, even if I don't actually do so. Like my friends' baby shower and I knew her grandma was surprising her by flying in for it. I did not tell my friend her grandma was coming, but I did tell her I knew what the surprise was and that she would love it. Or my parents 10th wedding anniversary for example. My dad showed me and my sister the string of pearls (dibs! I call dibs!) he had gotten for my mom and told us "don't tell." And I didn't! I really didn't! I just kept dropping hints to my mom saying stuff like "you're gonna like it," or "it's really pretty" and "you wear it here" as I patted my collarbone (how she figured it out I'll never know). My sister on the other hand just blurted out "it's a necklace!" Dad didn't show us a present for a long time after that. But my sister an I were 5 and 2 1/2, so really, that was just a silly move on my dad's part.

Kids Say the Darnedest things

I'm at work the other night when this little boy walks up to me with his mom right behind him and politely asks me where the bathroom is.

I smile and gesture towards the family bathroom which is behind me. I tell him something along the lines of there's a family bathroom right behind me.

And then he says: "I mean, I need the men's room!"

His mother just rolled her eyes and told him to get into the bathroom that he already had the door open too, but I thought it was hilarious!

Quirky

You know how everyone has at least a few little habits that may annoy you? Nothing deal breaking, but stuff like leaving your shoes in front of the door, humming while getting ready, drumming your fingers on the counter top, just little things here and there.

I know I do a few things that annoy my darling dr soc. Like never remembering to lock the doors behind me. Or how I refuse to shop at Walmart but call Target my happy place. And he absolutely hates when I say "whatev," oh my god that drives him batty!

And yeah, he has own little quirks that are distinctly him, but none of those annoy me!

Well, that, that annoys me. So there's that.

Shiny!

Setting, dr friend and I were watching Sharktopus on Syfy (what?) and commenting how dumb some of these people are.

dr friend: Run away! Stop standing at the water's edge! Oh my god, these people are so stupid. I don't want dumb friends.
me: Agreed. If you were being eaten by a sharktopus and knew you were a goner, I'd be running the hell away and not standing there at the shoreline screaming oh my god help!

Then my friend gives me pink and purple mendi bracelets, which are sparkly and I spend the rest of the evening looking at them and giggling over how much they delight me.

See! Clinky! Delight!

dr friend (to her husband): I thought I just said I didn't want dumb friends.
me: hey, you're the one who gave me pretty sparkly noisy bracelets. You know I have shiny object syndrome. You brought this upon yourself.

Practical Present

I have vetoed practical gifts for the moment since I find them unromantic. And I still want fun presents that make me go squee!

However, there is one notable exception:
Dr soc bought me a house!

Because what's more practical of having a place to live? Yeah, that's what I thought.

Ok, not really, he didn't buy me a house. He bought himself one and I'm just going to live there. (and eventually help pay the mortgage too)

But still. House! Squeeeee!

Things I Still Don't Understand:

These shoes:

Are they a flip flop? A boot? Is she trying to hide her cankles? I just don't get them.

• The full face of makeup and done hair, and then a sweatsuit look.
• How the bump-it got to be an everyday hairstyle. Yeah i love big hair for the red carpet and evenings out. But to a 9 am class? (Really I'm just jealous because my hair is Asian hair and won't hold curl or body for more that 10 seconds so I'll never be able to achieve this look regardless)
• Physics
• That's it September, officially fall and 90 'effing degrees.
• Why my mom doesn't like pumpkin food unless it's pie form.
• How anyone likes pumpkin pie in the first place.
• Why dr soc won't let me have a pink bathroom. It's not like I want a bedroom or the loft to be pink. Yet.

There's a Reason You Failed 7th Grade

This was a conversation I had with a tween at work once.

tween: I hate chinese people
me: I'm half chinese.
tween: oh.
me: Hows that foot taste?
tw: I don't eat feet! Well, I don't hate all chineese people. Just this one chinese girl in my class. ::pause:: She failed me.
me: Wait, so you don't like your teacher?
tw: Yeah. She said I didn't have the accent.
me: For what class?
tw: Chinese.
me: That's because the entire language is the inflection. An accent can one word make 3 completely different words. You have to get the accent to speak the language.
tw: Yeah, well, she didn't have to fail me...
me: did you even try?
tw: uuuuh
me: So, you hate all Chinese people because your chinese teacher who teaches her language failed you for not doing your work?
tw: umm, yeah?
me: Ai-ya!

I have the bad dog. For real this time

When I got home from class yesterday, there was something hanging on the door. It was a citation from animal control due to Bailey. When my father was walking her in the afternoon, she jumped on someone and mouthed someone's arm. The citation didn't say she bit, but still, not good at all. Whoever this neighbor was, they called animal control and hence the citation. Which I don't blame them for, I would do the same if it wasn't my dog. Essentially, the citation said even though the dog was leashed, we didn't have control over her.

The problem, amongst other things such as having an aggressive dog, (and paying a fee), is that my dad can't and never has had control over Bailey. With his coordination and reaction time worse then ever, he'll never be able to do so now. So now, I can't let him take her for walks, which was about the only exercise my dad has been getting. Not to mention a huge help for me in between trying to graduate and working. We've already limited his driving and I don't want to keep taking away things from him. But this... I don't blame him entirely though, she's strong and stubborn. Even though I'm more two and a half times her weight, she can still pull me down the street if I'm not paying attention. But this can not happen again.

I don't want to hear I told you so. I know my dog is bad. I know there are bad habits I let slide and now have to take care of. I know there are no problem dogs, only problem owners. I have to be the one to take responsibility for her actions. I have to train her and my family so we're all on the same page. I'll just add that to the list of crap that was on the back burner to now high on the front burner.

But, well, shit. This just blows.

Payback - Font Style

I love having snarky friends.

M: A consultant of mine emails exclusively in italicized comic sans…fail.

Now imagine full sentences of that font talking about concrete. I’ve never met him face to face. Maybe he’s being ironic or maybe he just hates me.

J: Excellent. You should reply back in Chiller or Papyrus.

M: I was thinking responding in 30-48pt font

me: in all caps becasue you are then SHOUTING AT HIM

J: What about 4 pt font? <--what about 4 pt font?

M2: There's always yellow.

Long Distance

In my dating past, I have a few distance relationships (or had a portion that was distance). The distance always had reason to explain it (co-op, different schools, moved home to a rent free place while someone else finished their associates) and eventually they all ran their course. Bonus there was that when we did go our separate ways I didn't have to see the other person around. (I'm a firm believer in leaving the scene of the crime after a break up. Unless there is a reason to stay in touch, like you have children together, wash your hands and be done).

My ex and I were distance for a while, before we got engaged. He didn't take it well to say the least. Whenever he got sulky (which was often) and jealous (also often) his excuse was always he'd never done distance before so he didn't know how to deal with it. But I was afraid to rock the realtionship boat and cajoled his hurt ego, told him everything would be ok, moved back 3 months earlier then I intended and pushed for the engagement to pacify myself. Instead telling him to suck it up and 75 ran 2 ways. (A year after that I got my spine back, phew.)

Now as you faithful readers know, I'm currently in a distance relationship with dr soc. Obviously, I'm less than thrilled about it, but it's temporary. But this time around, I'm the whiny one wishing he was here or I was there, or we were at least in the same zip code. To add to the stress of the situation, he's trying to buy a house with me in mind and that's not exactly a sunshine and unicorns process when it's 2 different opinions. And if we wanted to get into a pissing war, he wins because I'm in a city I know with a social circle, and he doesn't really know Charlotte or anyone else there for the moment. So I'm being a whiny pants about this. And I know this, so I'm just trying to balance everything (lots going on over here with school and family and life, you know) and telling myself to suck it up.

Single Ladies

My second cousin is getting married and we received the save the date in the mail. We're not in touch so I had no idea she was even seeing anyone, let alone engaged. But I'm happy for her and her parents (my mother's cousin). The save the date is addressed to Mr and Mrs my parents and Sara (don't get me started how much it annoys me when people misspell my name). My sister and her husband got their own save the date. Like grown ups.

Sigh. I think I can say I've never felt more unmarried than right then.

And no, I am not going to assume I can bring dr soc nor will I even ask if I can. I'm not going to be that asshole who brings a date when not invited with one (does the invite say "and guest?" No? Then just you buttercup), and I'm also not on comfortable enough terms with the bride to ask if I can bring a date. Like I said, I haven't been in touch and the only reason I'm invited is because I'm family. I may not even be able to go either, so this could be a moot point. But still, little ouch.

Kinda Like T-Rex

So dr soc has another nickname:
Socasauraus! It's like stegosaurus, only it's soc for sociology! Heeheeheehee.
(oh btw, the soc part of his blog/nickname is short for sociology, so I've always pronounced/thought of it in my head as soc as in social and not dr sock)

My sister was in town for a few days and she said that dr soc needed a nickname (besides dr soc). And with him being a sociologist and liking dinosaurs (which didn't surprise my friends at all), the name sorta popped into our heads at the same time.

Now we just have to figure out how to spell it. Because it sounds the best as a 4 syllable work (soc-a-saur-aus) but spelling wise, it's hard to get that soft c without adding something behind it. And all of these look or sound wrong:

• sociasaurus
• sociosaraus
• socosaraus

And the reason we had to figure out how to spell it is because I referred to him by his new nickname in a text message. We both looked at it typed out and then wondered if that was the correct spelling. And when we were talking about it that night in our nightly phone call, we ended up debating back and forth for a few minutes on what was the proper spelling of his new nickname (which he likes btw). Halfway through the should there be an i or o debate I realize: oh wow, this is pretty dorky.

And eventually we figured socasaurus it is. So, rawr!

The Wheels on the Bus Can Kiss My Ass

I've got a bone to pick with the city bus starting back in the summer. Actually, this could go back all the way to last summer, but I'll get to that.

First, this summer, I realized after waiting 50 minutes that they only run the bus I take once an hour during a certain time frame. So if you miss it, you have to wait an hour for it to come by. Which is bad if you have to get somewhere because you're screwed otherwise. And also this is bad when I need lunch because we know how cranky I get when I don't eat.

Second, the first day of class, the driver of my bus got me to my second stop late making me late for class. And then later that day, the one that only runs once an hour didn't stop at all at the stop I was at, even though myself and another student were waving them down. And that there were multiple people at the stop. And every other bus that had come by in the last half hour had stopped or at least honked to get people's attention. Mine just ignored us. Stabby ensued.

And third: yesterday I was waiting for the bus at the bus stop, and the driver barely stopped. He slammed on his breaks because he didn't see me sitting on the bench at the bus stop. And when I hop on and show him my pass, he tells me next time I need to stand so he can see me. How about you do your job and look at the mother fcking bus stop?

I'm starting to think it may be the drivers of this route though. Last spring there was one driver I liked a lot because he made sure he got me to the right stop in time to catch the campus bus, waited for me to cross the street so I could catch the bus home once, and also honked to get my attention when I dropped my wallet (that was later stolen and returned). No such luck this semester.

And back to last summer. The route was changed during the reconstruction of Limestone Street, so I had to get off a (huge) block earlier and then walk to class. Meanwhile, the other pithy college kids who cluster together in those apartments that are really just glorified dorms, they still get a campus bus that gets to drive on Limestone and takes them all the way to campus.

Never mind that I only get one bus that runs once an hour or any of those who actually need the bus and rely on it. But a they'll give a bunch of spoiled college kids multiple buses ever 10 minutes to take them from one end of campus to another because they are too lazy to walk. Ok, campus is huge and walking a few extra miles isn't as easy for some as it is for me.

But still bus system, how about we shape up?

Timing

It took dr soc almost 2 weeks after we started talking to ask me out. And I was getting mighty impatient too.

The time of year had a lot to do with it though. We started talking a few days before valentines day. Yeah, light bulb of recognition just went off of you too right? So, not the most ideal time to ask someone for a first date. No pressure or anything right? So that was fine, and I didn't want that much pressure on a first date either. I figured/hoped he would ask me out after that. But avast, his birthday is 5 days after valentines day. Not to mention it was the big 3-0 last year, and once again, not the best time to ask someone for a first date.

And while the timing is perfectly, reasonably, and chronological acceptable, I was still wondering if he was ever going to ask me out the whole time we're exchanging emails and getting to know each other through a computer screen. The longer communication* process ended up working out for the best though (obviously), because he said those emails are what got him interested in me (score!). There is the argument that I could have asked him out, which he pointed out to me as well, but I just laughed at that. But I won't deny I was getting restless because I really wanted to meet this guy as we bantered back and forth. I understood the timing, but I was thinking he better ask me out soon after that birthday.

Which he did. The day or 2 after it actually. We had our first date later that week (on a weeknight which miffed my friend to no end but it's safe to say it worked out), and the rest is history.

* since both of our memberships to eharmony have expired (having served it's purpose of getting us a significant other we both felt no need to extend the service, aka: pony up more money), neither one of us can access any of our previous cutesy communications. Which is sad, because now our email courtship is forever** lost to the interwebs.

** unless it is a free communication weekend. I guess since everyone (ie: non-paying members) can talk to everyone and anyone, they allow those they've already done their job for (ie: those of us who paid and got what they did/did not want) to access to their cutesy communication stuff.

Babysitting

This family comes into work the other night with 5 kids, all of them under the age of 6. Two of these kids are dressed in identical outfits and the same age, so we assume they are twins (either actual or of the Irish variety). The mom's got her hands full with the twins and another kid, while the dad is trying to keep an eye on the rest of the brood. Apparently, he's failing. Because at some point, he hisses to the mom in frustration:

"I can't watch 2 at the same time!"

She didn't say 2 words to him. But the look on her face was probably similar to the look you have on your face right now. Only about 1000 times more pissed off.

90210

LB: It's 90210 day
me: do any of us watch that show besides lb?
LB: I don't watch it. I didn't even watch the old one.
me: (internally) huh?

-- 3 hours later--

me: Oh! Um, I just now got why it's 90210 day.
LB: Oh good. For a minute there I thought you thought I really cared about the show.
me: I did! which was why I was so confused when you said you didn't watch it.

No Boy Scouts

Dr soc and I were watching "I Shouldn't Be Alive" one night, and the story was about a boyscout troop that had gotten lost in the Grand Canyon. Three of the teens had separated from the troop to find help but they were suffering from severe dehydration and sunburn and were in grave danger of heat stroke. I noticed only two of the three real life shouldn't be alive interviewees were being interviewed, and thought that maybe one of the boys didn't make it. My suspicions were confirmed a few minutes later in the show when one of the boys succumbed to severe heat stroke even after medical attention was given.

This made us understandably sad, and the thought that this could happen to anyone's kids, especially mine, made me scared. But I need to lighten the air so I say to dr soc:

me: the kids are not going to be boy scouts.
dr soc: agreed.
me: besides, if they are boy scouts, at some point one of us would have to, ugh, camp with them.
dr soc: ugh. I definitely agree.

--a few minutes later--

me: oh another reason the kids can't be boy scouts: scout moms hate me.

Matchmaker

In the beginning of February I paid just under $180 for a 6 month membership to eharmony. *
It was worth every penny.

Yep, that's how dr soc and I met. And actually, he was my first date from it. He wasn't the only one to ask me out and I did have another date with someone I met on there (which was fine and we played the who do you know game since we went to different high schools in town). But once I was talking to dr soc and he finally asked me out, (I tease him about that but I actually understand the timing) and when we met and eventually ya know...
It was him. Just him.

I admit I was a little apprehensive to be going on an online dating site to find someone at first. What would people think? (plus, what if no one liked me?) But I wasn't meeting anyone new, let alone someone I would want to date. I needed some new venues. But I don't care how we met. I'm just glad that we did.
Because here I am, we are, six months later on the path to happily ever after.

Worth. Every. Penny.

*No. We are going on the commercials.** My friend has told me she will mock me relentlessly if we do.
** That is unless they pay us handsomely of course. Money always drowns out mocking.

Secret Agent

Due to the f*ckin horse games (dr soc's term, not mine btw), Lexington is doing a crazy mad rush to clean for company. This involves demolishing decrepit buildings (then never building the 130 story hotel/condo monstrosity because the mystery sole donor died and didn't leave a will. The whole Center Pointe thing didn't have "sketch" written all over it at all.), ripping up sidewalks to bury power lines, and bottle-necking all of downtown traffic to re-blacktop most of it. (In my opinion, blacktop/asphalt laying is one of the worst smells in the world. The mere thought of it makes my stomach churn and the instant the smell burns my nose I have to fight the urge to throw up bile. Ugh!)

Needless to say, getting to and from work for me is nothing short of a clusterfuck. The other day I was leaving a busy part of town for another busy part of town, so I gave myself plenty of extra time to get there. However, since there was only one lane of traffic for 4 lanes, it was still gridlock. After calling the desk to let them know I would be late even though I was within spitting distance but stuck in the mess they could see our windows, I realized where I was and what time of day it was too.

I was right outside the Annex Garage (on MLK) and it was just after 5. So not only is parking free there now, the gate's up and no one's there to collect tickets at the exit. And what's better, is that this garage exits onto Water Street, which is the street that I turn onto to get into the garage I park in for work! Realizing this before I pass the turn into the Annex garage, I quickly flip my turn signal on, and turn left before the light changes and traffic stars coming directly head on. I twist through the garage, exit exactly where I knew I would, and a hop, skip, jump and 2 turns later, pop into a parking space in the library garage. I made it to work only 15 minutes late instead of a half hour, so it was a win.

And I totally admit, I felt incredibly crafty and slightly secret agenty after that moment.