Earrrrrly

I tried my best to sleep in this morning.

I did.

My plans were thwarted.

Yes, thwarted. Great word, and when I have cause to use it I take full advantage.

The evil villains who did the thwarting?

It was a group effort, although I doubt it was planned.

Villain #1 will remain nameless, because he will get an earful from me in the near future anyway.

Villain #2 is, of course, Oliver.

Can this girl catch a break? Do I have to rent a hotel room and kennel the dude to catch some decent Z's?

Guess so.

On the bright side, the sunrise is amazing, and I'll get to the park early today and get the pain over with.

Promotion Emotion

I just saw a TV ad for Old Navy. They are running their "$19 Jean" sale. Again. They just had one, two weeks ago.

Except this time, if you purchase a pair of jeans on Saturday, you get a FREEEEE graphic print T-shirt.

Groovy. I need some new sleepwear.

Re-cycle

I was on the way home from class tonight and heard a George Thoroughgood song on the radio (which station, I can't be sure).

This got me thinking about the song he did that was included in Streets of Fire, one of my favorite movies.

I blogged about this movie earlier this year - one of my first posts.

It's now in my DVD player and I'm going to let it lull me to sleep. This weekend I'm going to dig out "Ladies And Gentlemen, the Fabulous Stains" and it will be watched at some point.

Ah. Memories. And Diane Lane.

I can't take it

Pretty much any site I visit on the web, there are advertisements for the World Society for the Protection of Animals (WSPA). And this picture is what I see the most. And it just makes me so sad. Every time.

I want to kill anyone who is cruel to animals. For any human to take that kind of unecessary power over a helpless creature just blows my mind. It makes me want to blow them away with a .22 rifle.

I rescued a little beagle at the APA. I named her Maggie, and she was the most beaten-down dog I'd ever seen. She didn't make a sound for the first six months we had her, and only came out from under the bed to eat and go potty. She had been a stray, but boy, whoever had her before me did a bang-up job on her...literally. Until the day she died, anytime someone would reach down to pet her, she would duck her head and cower like she was about to get beaten. Heartbreaking.

She eventually came out of her shell a bit, but never was a very cuddly dog - never did fully trust humans, even me. I knew I had to be extra-good to her, and gave her a wonderful 10 years of love, treats, and belly rubs (when she's let me). In turn, she gave me an incredible 10 years of life lessons, sweetness and companionship. I miss her very much. And I still cry when I think about her for more than 10 seconds. Crying now. Great.

This is Maggie...two days before she died. (the white dog is KoKo)


Okay, anyway, these pictures just tear me up. I think the ad campaign is very effective, and far reaching. It incites. It provokes thought. It calls for compassion and action. It's just difficult to take - so I guess it's doing it's job.

Now that I'm a complete mess, I'm going to head to bed and love extra hard on my boy Oliver.

Neat-O

I want these:

Ice Bucket


Anxiety Sculptures


Tengue All-Stars



Kim the Talking Clock

Inglorious Crap - Movie Review

Suckage.

That's right. Inglorious Basterds was a 3-hour suckage of precious time I will not get back.

Brad Pitt - well, he was very good. The definite highlight of the movie for me. His performance was reminiscent of Earle Grace in "Kalifornia"...kinda backwoods, but oddly endearing, watchable, and unforgettable.

Oh, and David Bowie's "Cat People". Great song, kind of a weird inclusion, but nice to hear.

Many of Tarantino's master touches were barely there, or missing completely. He did one of those backstory-moments on the Bruno character, but it was minimal and hardly worth playing out, as you never really felt invested in the character.

Missing were the razor-sharp gut-clenching shock scenes (partial decapitation, eye-plucking) that are a mainstay in his movies. Also missing were the long diatribes and revealing moments his characters are known for - you know, the ones that make you really feel for them. Samuel Jackson's character in Pulp Fiction, George Clooney's in From Dusk Til Dawn, Uma's in Kill Bill. I didn't really feel for any of these characters...not one.

Gloves off - I feel like because Tarantino had Brad Pitt attached to the film, he kind of got lazy, sat back and let Pitt drive the vehicle. Because as we all know, Pitt can carry a movie & can rake it in at the box office.

I'm disappointed. I cannot recommend it. And of my friends who've seen it and sang it's praises, I now question their judgement when it comes to good cinema.

Seriously. Skip it.

Inglorius Basterd Dog

I was just attacked by a full-sized SS Nazi German Shepherd. In a very small space.

He got away from my neighbor, and attempted to make Oliver his appetizer.

If you've never been charged by a ginormous dog that's been bred to attack, well, you're not missing anything. Trust me on this.

I remember watching, in what seemed like slow motion, this dog coming at me in a low, determined crouch.

I remember looking into it's eyes thinking, "Wow, he's serious. This could be bad."

I remember hearing Oliver sound off in his attack mode next to me, and I think that snapped me into action.

I instinctually grabbed Oliver by his harness and swung him up over my head.

The Nazi dog jumped on me to get to Oliver and tore my shirt and scratched my neck and stomach up pretty good.

Good times. Good times indeed.

It was a complete accident, I know this, and my neighbor has already been over to see if I'm okay and provide shot records so that I don't have to worry about rabies, etc.

What's funny is I don't remember anything that happened between having the Nazi dog on me immediately after Oliver went airborne to when I was in the elevator going up to my floor. I think the fight/flight response took over.

I wonder if I made any sound, or what I said, if anything, to my neighbor?

I'm starting to think I should ask my neighbor the next time I see him what I did during the attack. Part of me wants to make sure I didn't go off on him, but the other part feels justified in saying whatever was said.

Because nobody puts my baby Oliver in a corner.

You Never Really Know

I have a slight fondness for reality TV. Rock of Love has been a guilty pleasure, as is any of the Housewives series and Big Brother. As the summer has come to a close, there was one show that caught my eye, and I decided to give it a go.

Megan Wants A Millionaire.

In catching up with my news this morning, I see that a former contestant of the show is a major suspect in the mutilation and killing of his wife.

The medical examiner could only identify the body via the serial numbers on the breast implants. Not by the dental records or fingerprints. Because of the mutilation.

So this little story got me thinking - you never really know someone. Time makes no difference - until the situation arises, a person can be as predictable as the setting sun.

Case in point:

- John Huber, a beloved Hagen Jr. High School science teacher in Dickinson ND (my hometown) murdered his wife, his wife's parents, and his wife's sister on March 15th, 1983. He just up and went crazy one night, and hunted down the people in his life he felt were responsible for the dissolution of his marriage. It shocked the entire town, and the students at the Jr. High were devastated.

One of the people he murdered, his wife's sister, lived two houses down and across the street from where I lived at the time. My brother and I used to play with her kids. When we woke up the morning following the murders, there were police vehicles all over the place. The family eventually moved away, but I remember thinking how said it was that my playmates didn't have a mom anymore.

- earlier this month, on August 4th, a former classmate of mine, Jeanne Ficek, was murdered by her husband of 20 years, Dennis Haugen, also a former classmate of mine. He shot her, then he shot himself. I didn't know them very well while in school, but I imagine Jeanne thought she knew her husband Dennis pretty well. But for whatever reason, one day he decided to end both their lives.

Friends of the couple who were interviewed said they were a quiet couple, with an 18 year old son, and both respected at their jobs. No indication as to what might have set off this murder-suicide.

So here we have two cases of people who've shown, by their actions, that you never really know someone. For whatever reasons, each of their situations "drove" them to commit heinous acts that didn't fit with their personalities or how people "knew" them to be. You can be married to someone for over 20 years, and one day they off you. You can be a respected and loved science teacher and one night hunt down your family members and pick them off, one by one, with a shotgun.

Life is a crapshoot. You take a chance when you're driving 70 mph on the highway, when you get on that plane to Chicago, or when you cross the street on your way to lunch with a friend.

You shouldn't have to worry about your life ending at the hands of someone you love.

But it's these, and other similar stories, that make me think twice about people. And make me want to enjoy my life fully every day I have one.

Higher plane

Okay, here's the thing.

Every once in a while, and not as much as I'd like, I get this overwhelming feeling.

It's floaty and grounding at the same time.

It's so overwhelming, it makes me want to drop to my knees and thank who/whatever is responsible for this life of mine.

It's a feeling of exhaultation, of supreme happiness, and I want to embrace the closest thing to me at that very moment. Today it was a steering wheel. Good thing.

This feeling, it makes me want to drive off the highway and fly through the clear air and float on the breeze. Not in a suicidal kind of way, just in a freeing kind of way.

It makes me want to walk up to a stranger, and tell them that their place in this world is felt, it's appreciated, it's important to my existence.

It makes me want to throw back my head, howl at the sky with a wide smile, teeth barred and eyes open.

It makes me want to run - full-out run, create my own wind, suck in the air in great gulps, reach forward with my arms and hands to grab the space before me, and try to catch the future.

I love it when that feeling hits me. It's never preceeded by anything in particular, there's no pattern I can discern. When it hits, it's solid and tangible. And incredibly intoxicating.

So I still had this feeling when I got home. I still had this feeling after I fed and watered the dog.

So I ran.

And the feeling lasted a good, long while.

And it was lovely.

I have since come down, and am enjoying the afterglow - metaphysically and metaphorically. I'm sweaty. I'm spent. And I'm living.

After a rather heady day at work, it was perfect.

Quatrain for a day of rain

I'm so close to you that I'm far apart,

So completely merged that I'm separate,

So vastly exposed that I'm concealed,

So whole and sound that I'll never be healed.

-Rumi

Happy Birthday Jeff!!!

It's my brother Jeff's birthday.

He's old.

Seriously, old.

Actually, since he's only a year younger than me, I can't really call him old, because that would be calling myself old. And I am not...Old.

Here are a few random facts about Jeffy...

My brother:

-is handy with a scalpel
- worships Metallica - and Barry Manilow. Yes, my brother is a complex man.
- tolerated my pinching, pushing and murder attempts from ages 1-5
- loves Taco Johns, like any good North Dakotan
- once knew Glenda the Good Witch
- plays a mean trumpet
- was in Jazz Band, Student Government, Track, Theater, Speech Team, Varsity Band, Concert Band, etc. etc.
- has no hair, partly by choice, partly by genes
- hosts Burger House many times a year - yum!
- taught and encourages my grandma to swear like a sailor
- greets me with a random kick or punch, as I do him (we will forever be 8 yrs old)
- meows when he answers the phone
- operated on insurgents in Iraq, and is a BADASS
- is an accomplished orthopaedic surgeon, and works for SLU
- would do anything for his family, and on many occasions has done so
- drives the biggest, baddest black truck (even though it's currently undergoing major surgery at an area dealership because Jeff is a BADASS)
- started the Dirty Santa trend
- worked at Bonanza, starting as a busser and working his way up to head of the grill
- just rocks.

Jeff is amazing. I'm so lucky to have such a wonderful brother. While growing up, we fought. A lot. But we grew out of that, and I'm glad he lives here now, because now that we do get along and like each other, I would miss him if he wasn't close by.

Below is one of his favorite songs. Jeff, this one's for you.

Sizzle

Summer's here. Officially.

Good times.

Did not run this morning, opted instead to swim. Caught up with a few pool pals who were doing their final long swim before their tri's next weekend. They're ready. Since they are bricking, after their swim they would be getting on their bikes for a long ride. Kudos to them, because riding in this heat is difficult, especially practicing their hills.

Finished up there, then went home and spent an hour in the pool outside.

Getting ready to spend the afternoon with family. It's my Aunt Deb and Uncle Eric's 30th anniversary. Their story is a sweet one - they met in college, had a date, it didn't go well, had a second date, that one went very well, and six months later they were married. They did a great job raising two beautiful and accomplished daughters that are a joy to be around, and are still best friends after so many years. Every couple should be as lucky as they are.

My aunt is a fantastic cook, and at this very minute she's making dinner for all of us to enjoy before we head off to hear her daughter sing in the Big Band. Yup, she's cooking on her own anniversary. That's how she rolls.

It's going to be a great evening.

Bird attack and other lame situations

So a bird attacked me while I was walking to my car.

LAME.

I apparently parked next to a tiny tree that was housing baby birds. I felt something hit my shoulderblade, turned around and nothing. Walked up to my car, and there is an angry bird sitting on the roof. My neighbor said it happened to him the other day, and came over to help me scare the psycobird away so I could get in my car without further injury.

Other lame news - the summer of music appears to be over. Knew it was too good to last. It comes in waves. Not sure why. I don't get my hopes up anymore - just along for the ride. I've missed so many concert...

Final lame news, any position that's billed as "Temporary" with pre-determined dates lends itself to chance. August to December? Reeeeallly?? We'll see.....

Weekend Playlist 7/31/09

Throwing Muses
PJ Harvey
Blur
Pylon
Now It's Overhead
Billy Bragg
Joao Bosco
Split Enz
The Kinks (love me some Kinks)

Overheard some 2 Live Crew while driving in my 'hood, so I guess I'll count that, too.

Why is it already Sunday night? Okay, I'll stop complaining.

Random

- up and ready to hit Forest Park for a run after 3 1/2 hours of sleep. I am superwoman.

- million dollar idea: patent a clock for dogs that they can read and understand, so that they don't unnecessarily wake up their owners. I have a personal stake in this.

- I'm recognizing a baby-naming trend in friends and colleagues, which is going the old-fashioned route than the way of "Apple" or "CoCo": names like Oscar, Bartholemew, Agnes, Lucille, Alice, Eleanor, Alba and Vlad. I like.

- there is something to be said about closing down a bar. There is also something to be said about sleeping.

- my forks are disappearing. Perhaps they are joining the socks in the Land of Missing Necessities...

- there are shoes for walking, shoes for running, shoes for hiking, and shoes for standing there looking pretty. Never mistake the latter for any of the former.

- yes, Tesla is a great band and listening to their music can bring about a state of euphoria. But really only in the right context (after much alcohol while reminiscing of high-school days) Kidding. They are a great live band.

- if you insist on drinking certain brands of beer with sliced fruit, having the right pick-up line is a moot point. You're scoreless.

- just because you are in a relationship doesn't mean you have to change your status on Facebook. Right to privacy...

- put "rub" behind any body part, and it's golden.

- men who like panty lines also wear loafers without socks.

- the Barbie look is back. If you've got the goods, I say "work it".

- Volcom, Etnies, Vans, Circa, DC...skater shoes rock.

- life is short. I am reminded of this everyday, in different ways. I am heeding the signs.

- forgiveness is sometimes better than regret. Regret is sometimes better than apathy. And apathy is sometimes better than forgiveness. Circle of life.