The One with the Yoga

So I've never done yoga before. I've run for years and done weight-training, cardio, Tae-Bo ... anything high energy. But never yoga or pilates. So when my office offered yoga over the lunch hour, I thought I'd try it out. Once I get over the giggles (remember how we used to do Abs of Steel with Denise Austin?), I really enjoy it. I am NOT flexible, and yoga highlights just how true that is. But it is very calming, so I think you should try it Rach. It might help destress you.

The funny part is the other people who do it with me. And the farting. But first, for the other people ...

There's a couple of older, heavier women who obviously have not attempted to touch their toes in quite some time. So they are entertaining. Hopefully it makes them feel better when I, the skinny girl who's 1/2 their age, also cannot touch my toes. But the funniest participant is the mountain man. He's easily over 6', 250 pounds. He's got a head of bushy hair and a big bushy beard. He wears maroon sweatpants that he has cut the ankles off of and a t-shirt, tucked in. And when we attempt to stand on one foot and pull the other knee up to our chest, he just CANNOT do it. He's flopping all over his purple yoga mat trying to stay afloat. And then the whole room loses their balance b/c the floor is shaking. It's hilarious.

Now for the farting. Yoga apparently helps aid in digestion, b/c I farted through the entire session. Here we are, listening to some weird Star Wars / Bambi music soundtrack, trying to focus on our breathing and I can't stop tooting! So instead of relaxing, I'm trying to clench my buttocks together to hold them in. Thank goodness they were not accompanied by sound.

Only I can turn something like yoga into a disaster. I'm whatever the opposite of Grace Kelly is. Maybe David can tell me ... he's been studying opposites at school.

The One With No Writing

I know. I know. I meant to write about the rest of the conference, even though no one but me and my mom care, but I got really sick right after I got back from KC and never got around to it. The conference was fabulous, but I just really don't feel like writing right now. I've been feeling down about some stuff at work. But as soon as I'm back to my usual somewhat-cheery self, I'll be more diligent about writing in my blog. Thanks for your patience.

The One With My Conference

For those of you who don't know, I'm in Kansas City for the Association of Pet Dog Trainer's annual five day conference. Since it was in virtually my hometown this year, I decided to check out the lineup of fantastic speakers while visiting friends and family that I don't see nearly often enough.

Day One was great, except I'm going on like six hours of sleep over the last two days. Apparently, when Mon and I get together, we can really talk. :) Those of you who know us know that for once, I'm downplaying that statement. I skipped the first session because it was about training without corrections. In light of all the Dog Whisperer stuff, there is a huge contingent of positive-only trainers that are really trying to overtake APDT. While I agree with most of what they say, I find them to be as close-minded and judgmental as the group they are fighting, and I don't like to be involved in those debates. I know my beliefs. Listening to people argue and judge isn't going to change my mind.

The second session was the one I was really looking forward to. Two of the top dog evolutionary biologists (for those of you who have dogs, read "Dogs" by Ray Coppinger and you will not regret it) in the field and one I had never heard of but was an excellent speaker had a panel debate about the evolution of dogs, which is quite a hot topic right now. It was fascinating, but I'm really interested in that sort of thing.

The highlight was a little unexpected, however. My favorite speaker spoke about cats. He does kitten socialization classes, much like the puppy classes dog trainers try so hard to push, and the ideas were excellent. I actually think I might try to teach them at some point. While most of his points just made you realize how dumb that you hadn't come up with the ideas yourself, he was an incredible speaker, very passionate about his topic.

Now I'm headed off to spend time with my last remaining friend from high school and my mom, both of which I'm really excited about. This week, I have several old friends who want to see me, including the best of them all -- my Oldsmobile Troi, who my dad has running again. Should be a great week.

The One Where a Year Makes All the Difference

During the Ohio State-Texas game last year, I sat in my room with the door closed, trying to console a Muggsy who was literally shaking because he was so scared by all the yelling going on in the next room. I was so mad that I couldn't get Ross to calm down for even a second so that I could calm down my puppy, which had just gone on anti-anxiety medicene.

This year, there was peace in the house. Ross is much better about his highs and lows during the football games, and Muggsy is much better all around. Sitting in the living room last night watching the game reminded me of how far we've come in this last year.

At this time last year, Muggsy had his infamous 36-hour blowup that resulted in me firing my behaviorist and removing him from medication. We were having regular blowups that ended in Chubbs having bloody paws, and Muggsy was always so nervous that he could barely contain himself.

It's hard to recognize when you're right in the middle of it all the progress that you've made. Muggsy still gets nervous about a lot of things. We still have occasional attacks on Chubbs. In fact, we had one Thursday morning. But it was brief and much less scary than they were a year ago. But he's doing much better. He spends a lot of time relaxing outside, which he seems to like a lot. When he needs to calm down, I still lock him in the bedroom, but he can relax and sleep soundly, which I haven't heard him do in years. It's the little things that make the difference, I guess. Muggsy will never change completely, but I'm very happy about what changes we have been able to make. I guess thinking about the difference in the last year, it just made me happy.

The One With the Stalker Update

OK, you all know about my most recent stalker. I met him, as I did my last stalker before him, through my best friend in Texas. This stalker, we'll call him Onionhead :), lives in KC, where I will be visiting most of next week. I think I have told most of you what a pain he has been about planning this trip, trying to get me to come see him and spend time with him while I am in town visiting my best friend of all time, Mon, and my family. All a little more important than a guy I have met twice who I am just being nice to because he is friends with one of my favorite people in the world.

On Labor Day, he texted me four times. Yesterday, he texted me four times trying to get me to join some fantasy football league with him. I don't like to gamble, I said. My friend said, Don't bother her. She doesn't like to gamble. Nope, he kept texting and e-mailing asking me to be involved so we could keep in touch more. Today, he e-mailed me and asked me to text him every day. Uh, no. I don't text people that I like every day. I have two jobs. Leave me alone.

But what really made me mad was yesterday evening. He sent me an e-mail criticizing our mutual friend. Now, if you think I'm sensitive about things, you should see how I act when people criticize my friends. Especially those who are too sweet to defend themselves, like Ross or this friend. I was furious. This guy does not know me well enough to try to bond with me by tearing down our mututal friend. This is a guy who has never intentionally done a mean thing to anyone. He has stood by Onionhead despite the fact that the guy is an idiot and what happens? Onionhead trashes him to someone he barely knows.

If I didn't like this friend so much, I would have already told Onionhead to hit the road. But I'm having a hard time figuring out what to do. I did tell the friend about the e-mail and that I was uncomfortable with his friend, but I'm not sure that I'm going to be able to work up the strength to blow him off when I'm in KC. Mon, do you think you can instill the bitchiness in me???

The One Where Summer Ends

The worst thing about summer is that it makes you forget. In Kansas, it makes you forget how long and miserable the winters are. In Texas, you forget everything because it's too hot to think. In Southern California, you forget about traffic.

We don't have seasons out here. It's 60-70 all the time in Redondo Beach. I wear a jacket in the evenings in August and need a short sleeve shirt in the afternoon in January. But there's a difference in the summer -- the traffic slows down. It tricks me every year. I get used to my 20-minute commute turning into a 10-minute commute. I forget what it's like to finish a 10-hour day and have to sit on the freeway without moving. Then, the day after Labor Day happens, and I remember. I'm always shocked that I can forget.

I shouldn't really complain. My commute is incredible. There are people in my office who commute from Orange County and probably spend 3 hours a day in their cars. On a bad day my commute might take 30 minutes and that's only a handful of times a year. But there's a big difference between traffic in the summer and traffic the rest of the year. And once again, I forgot.

On a side note, my co-worker from Arizona who I recently let see this blog -- the first and only co-worker to ever know about this because of all the complaining I do -- wants to be known as Gandolf instead of Mark. So from here on out, he will be referred to as Gandolf the Party Wizard. ("Didn't you read Lord of the Rings in high school?" "No, I had sex in high school.")

The One With the Crazy Cousins Club

Last night, I had the weirdest dream. But to understand the dream, you have to hear a story from my childhood. When I was 9, I moved from our first house to a farm and my grandparents moved into our house in town. It had this second story that was built like an attic where my brother and I had shared a room. Back in the wall was this weird little closet that went back behind the wall so far you couldn't get to the back of it. It was great for hiding stuff that could get you in trouble. My little brother used it to hide bags of change that he collected from people.

Anyway, he'd forget those bags were hidden back there and one time, Mon, my brother, her sister and I found one of those bags in that closet in what was now my grandma's house. We decided to use the money to buy a bunch of candy for a trip we were taking to Kentucky to take Mon home after she had stayed with me. I think both families were meeting halfway because I remember eating the candy in a hotel and flushing the evidence down the toilet. We had all agreed not to tell our parents about this candy, thinking we were being so horrible and deceptive.

In my dream, we called this action the Crazy Cousins Club because we're all cousins, obviously, and decided, as adults, to tell our parents about this deception. In the dream, our parents get so mad about this and we're all fighting with them about everything. Our point was that it was no big deal, but they were so mad. In one part of the dream, I'm screaming at my dad about how he was never my father and that I've been more of an adult than him since I was 12.

I have lots of dreams like this where I confront my parents about stuff that happened when I was a kid, but this was a first. We were all fighting like the crazy family we are. I thought you would find it funny, Mon.

Sorry for the lack of blogging lately. My job is killing me. I'm planning this big event, getting the education program started and doing all of my regular daily work. I'm literally doing the work that four people used to do. It's really getting to me. So I don't have much time to blog or respond to e-mails, but I'll try to be better about keeping in touch.