Dog @ MindSay

I apologize in advance for the sheer length of this post. I went off on a few healthy tangents. Don't hate me, please! :)

Yesterday was quite an adventure. I decided early on that I wasn’t going to ask to see Nick. I’d talk to him, but I would give him some space and give myself some space. I find that if I surround myself with a person, I get clingy, bored, or too comfortable. Clinginess is just plain unattractive. Boredom is unacceptable with someone as awesome as Nick. Comfort? I’m already too comfortable with him for my own good. I actually forgot to thank him for doing something (if you know me, you know I’m shuddering in abject horror over this—I’m nothing if not painfully polite to enemies, crushes, and unknowns). Fortunately, I remembered later, thanked him profusely, and apologized for forgetting to do so earlier. He hadn’t really noticed and indeed apologized for forgetting to thank me for letting him stay the night before.
(Side note about politeness—I’m, as I said, unerringly polite with enemies, crushes, and unknowns. I’m more than tolerably polite to almost everyone else—friends, people about whom I don’t care to have an opinion, family, etc. But I don’t expect the same courtesy. At least not to the same extent to which I hold myself. You can forget to thank me for a lot of things and until you piss me off, I’ll never think anything of it. But should I do the same and realize it, I can’t have it. I like being appreciated for what I do, but when I do get a thank you, it’s so unexpected and heart-warming that I’m likely to go into a fit of favors for you—don’t try to work that system, please.)
ANYWAY. If I don’t give myself some space, I’ll let him see the cynical, pessimistic side that I work so hard to overcome. I try to be upbeat and generally positive—aside from my dry humor and cynicism in its light form. But I have a very pessimistic side that I despise. I expect very little of people because I find it easier to trust them to let me down, which is why these last few weeks have surpassed my expectations by miles.
((Side note: my dog is being adorable right now. She started out about five feet away, laying on the ground. She has slowly belly-crawled under the coffee table and is now laying as close to the couch I’m on as humanly—err, caninely possible. She paused about two feet away, looked up at me, and laid her head down like she was done moving. A minute later, she was [what I’m sure she thought was] sneakily crawling closer. She stopped just short of being against the couch (note: she also had to turn about 90 degrees to get up against the couch), looked up, and rolled over against the couch. It was pretty cute.))
ANYWAY. I decided that I was not going to seek Nick out. So I went over to my mom’s house, checked on my kitties, used her internet for a while, grabbed a few more things, and headed back into town. I re-dyed my hair and had just resigned myself to pacing the house all day and not-calling/texting Nick when Natalie came to my rescue.
Instead of me driving myself crazy all day, we went Thrift-Storing. There are about 7 really good thrift stores in our town and the town that’s closest to ours (they’re sister cities: Nevada City and Grass Valley), and so we don’t go thrift-store shopping; we go Thrift-Storing. I got the BEST deals. I got a red tie with white polka-dots (good for interviews if I’m rocking the badass office professional woman, great if I’m just rocking the badass chica, serves in addition as a belt and a hair scarf) for 54 cents; a pair of really cute brown professional heels, a strand of pearls, and some great tea cups with saucers for $14.85; and a dress that usually costs (this was my best find of the day—I’m super proud) about $200 that I got for $19.85. It looks SOOO hot on me. It’s a light turquoise color, about knee-length, and a halter. It’s hot hot hot! I need a reason to wear it now. It’s a little dressy for just wearing, but if we went, oh, I don’ t know…DANCING, it’d be PERFECT. Especially with the gold silk shoes that Natalie found and said I could borrow any time.
Anyway, I actually had a great day. I wasn’t expecting it to be (see? Pessimism in the raw!); honestly, I expected to have to go walk twelve miles with my music on full-blast just to keep myself distracted. And I started to go a bit crazy in the evening, but there was a bathroom to clean. And dishes and laundry to do. I have busy work to keep my hands on something. Away from my phone. Sometimes I wish I could intentionally lose my phone so that I can’t be tempted into connecting with the outside world. (note: in this scenario, The Outside World is mostly just synonymous with Nick)
Another thing that made me really happy was when I weighed myself. I have a rule about weighing myself. I don’t weigh myself more than every two weeks. It’s actually been more like 6 weeks. The last time I was into the doctor. And I was up a few pounds. Made me not too happy with myself.
I guess you have to know the full story for it to make any sense as to why a few pounds piss me off. I’m not anorexic. I don’t have any other eating disorders. That would have been easy for me to do with my mother, but I’m actually really smart about food. Now. I’m smart about food now. Anyway. I was never…huge. I was about average for most of my life. At least until middle school. I got sick a lot, had a few surgeries, and was just generally inactive. I got up to about 165 by mid-8th grade. Over the summer, I freaked out, went on a soup diet. I actually did have an eating disorder at that point. Freshman year was a rough year. I dropped down to about 115 and still thought I was effing huge. Sophomore year, I went to the other side of the pendulum and gained it all back. By the end of Junior year, I was at an all-time high of 178. I wore it well, but I was pretty chubby.
And then the best thing happened to me. I went to Europe for 10 days, dropped 15 pounds because I was too hot to eat and was walking a good 20+ miles a day. When I got home, I had pneumonia and I couldn’t eat and breathe simultaneously. Between these two things, I got back into a healthy amount of eating. (My mom’s diet is perfectly healthy—except on the portions end of things. Portions for her are almost twice what I eat) So the weight kept dropping. From June to November, I dropped about 25 pounds. It was coming off slowly enough that I was getting a good shape on me. All this was while taking a birth control pill that is notorious for packing about 20 pounds on its victims.
I was actually pretty good at 153, and I got stuck there for a while. Holidays, I suppose, do that to people. But I didn’t gain any of it back, which made me really happy. After Christmas, I started taking Doxycycline and a new birth control pill that worked in conjunction to keep my skin clearer. The other effect was that it jump-started my metabolism at the same time. By March, I was at my then target weight of 145. And I look fantastic at 145. Without any extra effort, I got down to about 140, and decided that 135 might be better just because I’m hippy, and I wanted trimmer thighs. So when I went to the doctor in May, I was back up to 148. I had a mild panic attack, scared that I was going to gain it all back (that’s what happened between freshman and sophomore years), and started eating healthier again.
So I weighed myself yesterday, and I’m back down to 141. I wasn’t really expecting to be. I actually thought I’d gained weight. I actually kind of should have. I’ve been partying three or four days a week and eating like crap. Unless I’m at work. Then all I eat is fruit and a little dairy. But I’m back down, closer to my target weight. Without starving myself. And without crazy work-outs. I’m very pleased with myself. The other thing is, my weight now is more muscle mass than it was before. I’ve got rather toned arms (working at Jamba Juice did that to me—I’ve never had arm muscles before, and now I’ve got bona fide guns. They might be pistols, but they’re still guns) and my legs are actually pretty lean now. And I’ve decided I’m not going to stress about getting down to 135. I look fine where I’m at, and sure, 135 would be nice, but I don’t need to be 135. If I did, there might be a problem. Part of the problem with losing any more weight is my pants. I have long legs, and I wear a little bit less than an 8 in the jeans I like, but only at my waist. I’m more like a 10 in length. I actually wore 10 Longs for a little while. And the 8 Longs work for me, length wise. But if I get down to a 6, the Longs might be a little shorter than I like. It’s quite a conundrum. Not really, but it’s something I think about.
I’m done thinking. This is an extremely long post. I don’t know why I had so much to say today. But I’m done. The Epic Post of Epicness is done.

I apologize in advance for the sheer length of this post. I went off on a few healthy tangents. Don't hate me, please! :)

Yesterday was quite an adventure. I decided early on that I wasn’t going to ask to see Nick. I’d talk to him, but I would give him some space and give myself some space. I find that if I surround myself with a person, I get clingy, bored, or too comfortable. Clinginess is just plain unattractive. Boredom is unacceptable with someone as awesome as Nick. Comfort? I’m already too comfortable with him for my own good. I actually forgot to thank him for doing something (if you know me, you know I’m shuddering in abject horror over this—I’m nothing if not painfully polite to enemies, crushes, and unknowns). Fortunately, I remembered later, thanked him profusely, and apologized for forgetting to do so earlier. He hadn’t really noticed and indeed apologized for forgetting to thank me for letting him stay the night before.
(Side note about politeness—I’m, as I said, unerringly polite with enemies, crushes, and unknowns. I’m more than tolerably polite to almost everyone else—friends, people about whom I don’t care to have an opinion, family, etc. But I don’t expect the same courtesy. At least not to the same extent to which I hold myself. You can forget to thank me for a lot of things and until you piss me off, I’ll never think anything of it. But should I do the same and realize it, I can’t have it. I like being appreciated for what I do, but when I do get a thank you, it’s so unexpected and heart-warming that I’m likely to go into a fit of favors for you—don’t try to work that system, please.)
ANYWAY. If I don’t give myself some space, I’ll let him see the cynical, pessimistic side that I work so hard to overcome. I try to be upbeat and generally positive—aside from my dry humor and cynicism in its light form. But I have a very pessimistic side that I despise. I expect very little of people because I find it easier to trust them to let me down, which is why these last few weeks have surpassed my expectations by miles.
((Side note: my dog is being adorable right now. She started out about five feet away, laying on the ground. She has slowly belly-crawled under the coffee table and is now laying as close to the couch I’m on as humanly—err, caninely possible. She paused about two feet away, looked up at me, and laid her head down like she was done moving. A minute later, she was [what I’m sure she thought was] sneakily crawling closer. She stopped just short of being against the couch (note: she also had to turn about 90 degrees to get up against the couch), looked up, and rolled over against the couch. It was pretty cute.))
ANYWAY. I decided that I was not going to seek Nick out. So I went over to my mom’s house, checked on my kitties, used her internet for a while, grabbed a few more things, and headed back into town. I re-dyed my hair and had just resigned myself to pacing the house all day and not-calling/texting Nick when Natalie came to my rescue.
Instead of me driving myself crazy all day, we went Thrift-Storing. There are about 7 really good thrift stores in our town and the town that’s closest to ours (they’re sister cities: Nevada City and Grass Valley), and so we don’t go thrift-store shopping; we go Thrift-Storing. I got the BEST deals. I got a red tie with white polka-dots (good for interviews if I’m rocking the badass office professional woman, great if I’m just rocking the badass chica, serves in addition as a belt and a hair scarf) for 54 cents; a pair of really cute brown professional heels, a strand of pearls, and some great tea cups with saucers for $14.85; and a dress that usually costs (this was my best find of the day—I’m super proud) about $200 that I got for $19.85. It looks SOOO hot on me. It’s a light turquoise color, about knee-length, and a halter. It’s hot hot hot! I need a reason to wear it now. It’s a little dressy for just wearing, but if we went, oh, I don’ t know…DANCING, it’d be PERFECT. Especially with the gold silk shoes that Natalie found and said I could borrow any time.
Anyway, I actually had a great day. I wasn’t expecting it to be (see? Pessimism in the raw!); honestly, I expected to have to go walk twelve miles with my music on full-blast just to keep myself distracted. And I started to go a bit crazy in the evening, but there was a bathroom to clean. And dishes and laundry to do. I have busy work to keep my hands on something. Away from my phone. Sometimes I wish I could intentionally lose my phone so that I can’t be tempted into connecting with the outside world. (note: in this scenario, The Outside World is mostly just synonymous with Nick)
Another thing that made me really happy was when I weighed myself. I have a rule about weighing myself. I don’t weigh myself more than every two weeks. It’s actually been more like 6 weeks. The last time I was into the doctor. And I was up a few pounds. Made me not too happy with myself.
I guess you have to know the full story for it to make any sense as to why a few pounds piss me off. I’m not anorexic. I don’t have any other eating disorders. That would have been easy for me to do with my mother, but I’m actually really smart about food. Now. I’m smart about food now. Anyway. I was never…huge. I was about average for most of my life. At least until middle school. I got sick a lot, had a few surgeries, and was just generally inactive. I got up to about 165 by mid-8th grade. Over the summer, I freaked out, went on a soup diet. I actually did have an eating disorder at that point. Freshman year was a rough year. I dropped down to about 115 and still thought I was effing huge. Sophomore year, I went to the other side of the pendulum and gained it all back. By the end of Junior year, I was at an all-time high of 178. I wore it well, but I was pretty chubby.
And then the best thing happened to me. I went to Europe for 10 days, dropped 15 pounds because I was too hot to eat and was walking a good 20+ miles a day. When I got home, I had pneumonia and I couldn’t eat and breathe simultaneously. Between these two things, I got back into a healthy amount of eating. (My mom’s diet is perfectly healthy—except on the portions end of things. Portions for her are almost twice what I eat) So the weight kept dropping. From June to November, I dropped about 25 pounds. It was coming off slowly enough that I was getting a good shape on me. All this was while taking a birth control pill that is notorious for packing about 20 pounds on its victims.
I was actually pretty good at 153, and I got stuck there for a while. Holidays, I suppose, do that to people. But I didn’t gain any of it back, which made me really happy. After Christmas, I started taking Doxycycline and a new birth control pill that worked in conjunction to keep my skin clearer. The other effect was that it jump-started my metabolism at the same time. By March, I was at my then target weight of 145. And I look fantastic at 145. Without any extra effort, I got down to about 140, and decided that 135 might be better just because I’m hippy, and I wanted trimmer thighs. So when I went to the doctor in May, I was back up to 148. I had a mild panic attack, scared that I was going to gain it all back (that’s what happened between freshman and sophomore years), and started eating healthier again.
So I weighed myself yesterday, and I’m back down to 141. I wasn’t really expecting to be. I actually thought I’d gained weight. I actually kind of should have. I’ve been partying three or four days a week and eating like crap. Unless I’m at work. Then all I eat is fruit and a little dairy. But I’m back down, closer to my target weight. Without starving myself. And without crazy work-outs. I’m very pleased with myself. The other thing is, my weight now is more muscle mass than it was before. I’ve got rather toned arms (working at Jamba Juice did that to me—I’ve never had arm muscles before, and now I’ve got bona fide guns. They might be pistols, but they’re still guns) and my legs are actually pretty lean now. And I’ve decided I’m not going to stress about getting down to 135. I look fine where I’m at, and sure, 135 would be nice, but I don’t need to be 135. If I did, there might be a problem. Part of the problem with losing any more weight is my pants. I have long legs, and I wear a little bit less than an 8 in the jeans I like, but only at my waist. I’m more like a 10 in length. I actually wore 10 Longs for a little while. And the 8 Longs work for me, length wise. But if I get down to a 6, the Longs might be a little shorter than I like. It’s quite a conundrum. Not really, but it’s something I think about.
I’m done thinking. This is an extremely long post. I don’t know why I had so much to say today. But I’m done. The Epic Post of Epicness is done.

ladies and gents...and everyone stuck inbetween...i introduce to you.....*drumroll* MY PETZ!

here's the lo-down!!

1) Ms. Cotton: My Dad's cat. She's 4 and she's a calico manx (this means she was born without a tail because of her breed...from the Isle of Mann, Ireland). She is soft and loves to roll on her back and chase mice.

2) Inspector Gadget: My kitty, the old man of the house. He is 10 and he is a domestic shorthaired silver tiger. Yes, he has a tail. He used to weigh a lot more, but lost weight when we got a puppy a few years back. He loves to be elusive and the lounge in the sunbeams...oh, and KFC chicken.

3)Butters Stotch (aka Buddy): Shawna's cat. He's 3 and a white and gray splotched manx. He is technically manx, but was born with half of a tail. His hobbies are drooling, purring and sleeping. He's the biggest of the cats and the most cuddly of the males.

4)Prince Legolas Greenleaf (aka Lego, Legs, Leggy, Lardass): My mom's dog...he was supposed to be mine. He is a 5 year old beagle and poodle mix. His hobbies are going fishing with mom and dad, begging for table scraps, and playing cat shepherd.

5)Emmett: The only of my 2 male mice that will hold still for a picture. He's about 5 months old, son of Algernon (R.I.P) and Rupert (she's the mommmy...named for Rupert Grint before I knew she was a lady mouse). He's the biggest of the mice and likes to eat and snuggle with his brother Edward.

6)Isabella: Emmett's sister and littermate. She lives in the cage with her shy little sister, Alice and mother, Rupert. She's my favorite, and the only brown mouse in our home.

7)Peregrin Took (aka Pippin, PP, Pippers): Mom's cat. He's 3, a white and orange tabby manx. He has no tail at all and is crippled in his back legs (from birth). He hops like a rabbit. Pippin can say "no" and "Mom" (most cats can, lol). His hobbies are lounging/falling off of the back of our couch and meowing loudly and most annoying in the middle of the night.

8)Rupert Grint (aka Poopert, Mama Mousie): Mother of Emmett, Edward, Alice and Isabella. She was my 21st birthday gift from Shawna. Her hobbies are pooping whenever she's being held and sleeping.

9)Ronald Weasley (aka La Wheeze, Weezy, Weasel): He's the baby of the boy cats, only 1 1/2 years old. He is a white and orange tabby...half manx on his mother's side. His hobbies are being annoying, meowing to go out, meowing to come in, and exploring.

10)Pantz (aka Motor Pantz, Fuzzy Pantz, Baby Kitty): She's only 9 weeks old, the youngest of our pets and the by far, the most ornery. Pantz's hobbies are being hyper, playing with anything (even stationery objects), cuddling, short naps and being rotten.


hopefully i can post more pics at a later time, but that's all for now!



kage jonas

We decided to go shopping before the zoo, my sister and I!  What a great day we had planned.  And it was going so well!  Out of the six major Thrift World Stores in the Metro area of Omaha, we hit two.  The two nicest ones with the Brand Name clothes!  One on the Northwest side of Omaha and one on the Southeast side of Omaha near the Zoo.

 

What a great way to end our mini camping trip that just turned in to being a mini stay at my sister's house due to the varying weather that kept popping up!  Instead of staying at the really nice free camp grounds we stayed at my sister's house for a few days, I wasn't going to chance being caught near a big man made lake that had extermly high levels near the banks of the camp ground!

 

Anyway, after a GREAT haul of a summer woredrobe for both kids from two different thrift shops and then treating the kids to lunch, we headed to Henery Dooley (sp?) Zoo for a nice afternoon.  It started out great!  We hit the Jungle, the Sea Lions, the Garden of Senses, the Cat House, part of the Avaiary, the Gorrila House, the Cat Complex, the feeding time for the smaller tropical birds, the Desert Dome, and the Giaraff House.  With smaller enclousers along the way of course!  Of course pictures are on here!  Enjoy!

 

While we were just ouside of the New Butterfly House and the Aquareme deciding which one we were going to go in first before we started heading to the town were my van was sitting so the kids and I could head home and my sister and her kids could head home, we heard the tornado sirins go off!  Now I know why so many ppl get killed in public places during storms!  The tornado sirns go off and the majority of the Zoo visitors head for the Goddess Dayum parking lots!  I kid you not!  Well being country girls, my sister and I herd the kids to the aquarememe (sp?) house under the canapoy and bust out our cell phones.  Each of us respectively calling our hubby's, asking them why the hell neither one of them called to tell us there was a storm system heading straight at Omaha!  We informed both of them that we were heading for the storm shelters in the Fish house and we would call once the storm passed.  Then we hearded the kids towards one of the Zoo Workers holding a door open to the basement of the complex leading to the exective offices and we were one of the first groups down. 

 

There were a few other ppl down there already but what we found the most funny out of this was that everyone single person down there including us, were NOT from Omaha persay but from the surrounding communities and areas!  We are NOT fools!  While the main secruity guy was telling us and the few zoo workers what the plan was, he was getting reports from the weather radio and the few of us that stopped and made calls.  Then he asked us to sit tight, while he and his other crew went outside to go round up the rest of the Zoo visitors and get them inside various zoo complexes till the storm passed.

 

We had a couple of upset kids of course, my daughter being one of them, and a lot of upset ppl, including ball players that stuck around after the College World Series before they went home.  Those of us from the midwest were laughing and joking and calming the kids down.  We kept telling everyone that we are in one of the safest buildings and don't worry about the animals they know what to do and the zoo workers were making sure they were safe also.  Once all the zoo workers got in the main secruity guy came back in to our basement and said it was pitch black out and winds up to 90-100 miles per hour and they would not know if a tornado hit till after it was clear out.  The lights did go out and thankfull the generator kicked on right away.

 

After we got the okay to clear out and leave the zoo, we got some pictures of the damage done in side the zoo.  Down trees and one of the heavy glass safety entrance doors to the Wild Kingdom Palliviallion was completely blown off and laid gently down in front of the Pavillion!  I missed that picture! There was hail everywhere!  We had to make our way out of the Eastern Side of Omaha back towards the I-10 exit so we could head to Freemont NE which is an hour Northeast of Omaha, where my van was sitting!  Damage everywhere!  While driving the news said, the Art Festival got hit hard downtown Omaha, there was a boat taken off of a dock in the Missiouri and was dropped on the roof of a house, trees blocking roads, and down electrical poles all over Omaha downtown/metro area!  We stopped on the outskirts of town to feed the kids and the Taco Johns we hit had running TVS.  The area heading to Fremont NE was hit hard also and a semi rig was entangled in electrical wires!  Cars of the road, rigs off the road, and major damage.  This system worked its way into IA and massive damage and two killed on the IA side.

 

We got detoured outside of a town between Omaha and Fremont due to massive damage and accidents.  Where I got a phone call from Randy when he got home.  My dog Spud died during the day yesterday!  Randy was upset and of course the kids and I were very upset also, but we also knew the dog was going to end up dying on us.  Spud was the dog with the unknown seizures.  At first Randy thought he somehow choked while he was outside on the chain but when he went up to examine Spud, there was plenty of slack in the chain and the collar would have slipped right off of his neck (we made sure that it could slip off if he was caught up when running or on the chain if something would have happened).  The way Spud was laying and his facial features, you could tell he had a massive siezure.  So trying to find our way on back country roads and county paved hiways we didn't know to get back into Fremont, we had upset kids and nobody was out directing the traffic.  My sister and I again being country girls said fuck it and got on a country road and started heading towards the sun because Northwest was where we wanted to head.  We picked up a truck in front of us from our home area just a different county and he had the same idea.  We got rerouted via the roads with no help from anyone due to big trees, silos, fencing, and other debries in the mushy gravel roads!  A normal 1 hour drive from Omaha to Fremont took 2 hours!

 

Once we got to a lil town Southeast of Fremont which would have been the quickest route we got denied by a State Trooper directing traffic.  Nobody was allowed into town where a small lake was surrounded wiht houses and such due to the damage!  They weren't letting anyone through not even family members of the town or land owners with no houses.  Ambulances and Fire trucks were all over the town and two of the rural fire trucks were making their way towards the other road leading to Fremont.  We just turned around and followed the fire trucks into Fremont.  Finally!  Fremont NE had no major damage.  Some trees down and some windows broken but no major damage.  Then we pull up into the truck stop where we left my van.  I got a lovely suprise!  My rear windsheild was blown out or a rock got kicked up in the storm!  I have no rear windshield now!  Nothing was stolen.  But everything was glass covered clear up to the front seat and everything was water logged!  Thank GODS I had what ever paperwork I did have in there in sacks and covered up!  My Leadership Manual alone would have cost me 100 some dollars to replace if it got water logged or damaged somehow!

 

So I called Randy yet again and told him we FINALLY made it into Fremont but I would be still a lot later because we had to clean up the glass and find places for the kdis to sit with out getting cut up!  Thankfull we were able to pull a couple of the pillows from underneith my tent that dind't have glass on it and give those to the kids to sit on.  My sister handed over one of her towels so I could sit on it while driving.  And then we rearrange the back so none of my Thrift shop finds, my tents, sleeping bags, blankets, pillows, or other camping gear would go flying out for my hour drive home!  I ended up pulling over twice on the way home to rearrange my back but FINALLY my normal two hour drive ended up being a 4 hour and 45 minute drive and we made it home at 8:45pm.  where we promptly unloaded the van and shop vaccued it out so I could get some plastic on the windshield due to more storms coming this weekend.

 

After we got that done, we gave Spud my Fat Man Dog a burial worthy of a King.  See we couldn't bury him.  The ground is too wet and his smell would draw the local wild dog pack and the local coyote pack.  Not to mention all the other wild critters int he area.  So we took my lovely burn pile Randy made up for me this weekend and gave Spud a Funeral Pry.  We didn't want any other anmals digging him up and eating on him.  Randy loaded him on the bonfire and I threw some sage, cedar chips, and sweet grass all over Spud and we said a lil blessing for him and said our goodbyes.

 

Now today, I get to call his old family and inform them that he is gone.  I am doing laundry from the back of my van and going to take the kids down to my girl's house because they are still stressed from last night.  A lil fun down at Aunties house and coming home about the time Daddy gets home from work will do them good. 

 

Now I am off to throw another sleeping bag into the wash!  Pictures to come after this post!