The One Where David is Just Like Mama

As you all know, David looks and talks just like his Dad. There's no denying whose kid that is ... unless you ask Rach (and no, I did not sleep with Greg Foster). But finally there are signs that David actually has characterisitcs that resemble me! At a recent parent-teacher conference, we were informed that David was doing so well. He's a good leader and role model for younger kids, he speaks up in class, he has pre-reading skills and he even "reads" books to the other children. However, the teacher did have two small complaints ... first David takes everything too personnally. Whenever he is corrected, he takes it as a personal attack and gets really sad. Sound familiar anyone?!? I STILL have a hard time receiving constructive criticism at work. This is something I've struggled with for years, but I'm pleased to report that my son is doing much better in this area - the teacher says she's seen a marked improvement.

The second area David needs to work on ... well, it sounds like he's a perfectionist in training. For example, if the children are supposed to make a turkey, the teacher will put an example in the middle of the table. If a younger child puts the turkey's legs on top of it's head, David is quick to say "That's not right! The legs go down here!" So I'm supposed to point out and praise things that aren't quite "right" so that he learns to accept and appreciate differences. This will be hard for me, since I can't even let my mom put away the dishes in my kitchen b/c she doesn't get them in quite the right spot ...

Hey, everyone has their little quirks. I'm just glad mine live on in my baby! ;)

The One Where Las Vegas Is Good to Me

This story ends where it begins -- on a semi-deserted desert highway in the middle of the night. To avoid the bumper-to-bumper Vegas-Los Angeles traffic, we traveled to and from Vegas late at night, Ross sleeping and me driving. I'm a professional late night driver, but I still needed my tried and true music to keep me awake. During the Wallflowers song, "Sixth Avenue Heartache," the line "Got my fingers crossed on a shooting star" triggered my memory to how this story begins -- on that same road, late Thursday night, Ross still sleeping. I saw a falling star and, true to supersticion, made a wish. Now, most people would probably wish that they would arrive in Vegas safely or that they would win money or something, but I'm not most people. I wished that Kansas would beat Florida.

I don't believe in that kind of stuff, even though I can be a tad supersticious, so I made a silly wish, hoping that it would come true. I didn't think it would. I know it's just November, but Kansas really needed to make a statement and do something to prove that they weren't just going to go into March looking good but not great and choke in the first round of the tourney. I'm tired of that nonsense. I'm not sure Bill Self should still have a job if that happens again.

For my birthday, Ross bought me tickets to the game. I just wanted to see a good game and see that Kansas could play with teams like Florida. Friday night, when they got dominated inside by Ball State, I doubted I was going to get my wish. If they couldn't outrebound Ball State and get easy shots in the paint, how in the world were they going to match up with Florida?

Saturday night was awesome. Not only did I get a great game but I got a win in overtime, 82-80. It shouldn't have gone to overtime, and I think that just goes to show how much farther Kansas has to go to reach Florida's level, but I was really happy with what I saw. Julian Wright stepped up and completely dominated in the first half. The Sasha Kaun-Darrell Arthur-Darnell Jackson rotation worked beautifully to slow down Joakim Noah, and we got key shots out of our guards. Even Brandon Rush stepped up and took some big shots, including the game winner.

Again, I know this is only November. But if you look at our schedule, this was the game. The rest of our games are against mid-major opponents and lower, which admittedly we need practice against, and the Big 12 is down this year. I know we still have a couple losses ahead of us, but I don't think we have any really tough games that will prepare us for the types of opponents we'll have to play in the tournament to reach a Final Four and win a national championship. So I was really looking forward to this game and was really happy with what I saw. I hope the team can continue to build on this win.

The One With My Past

When I heard myself saying, "Of course I'll help," I couldn't really believe it. I don't even want to go to my dumb high school reunion, and now I've volunteered to be in charge of invitations. Bizarre the things I do to make people like me. Anyway, I've basically decided not to go to my high school reunion in April. While I'm sure it will be fun and nice to catch up with people from my past, I have absolutely no desire to be told how incomplete my life is because I don't have a husband or children.

In less than a week from making that decision, my past found me. When I was in high school, I partied with a lot of older guys, guys old enough to buy me alcohol. That was really my circle of friends, moreso than the people I went to school with. In fact, I only went to school with two of the guys who rented the house in Hutchinson that we all partied in. One of those guys was a senior when I was a freshman and interestingly, we have always stayed in touch through e-mail. I haven't seen him since my sophomore year of college, but I hear from him occasionally. This week, I heard from him for the first time in 3-4 years. He's leaving Colorado to move to Mexico and I'm on the traveling route. So I agreed to meet him for a drink in January when he was coming through town.

But his mass e-mail put me on the e-mail list of another of those guys, a former stalker who lived with me for a couple of weeks and covered up all the pictures of my boyfriend, left flowers on my pillow every morning and work "fag" on Gavin's head because I thought he was cute. Let's just say Mon and I will never forget him. He e-mailed to tell me that he and his brother were living in Tuscon with their crazy pit bull and wondered how I was doing.

I, of course, e-mailed back. He's a furniture salesman, which I just can't picture, but it made me think that if I've grown up and changed from the girl I was when I was 17, they've probably grown up, too. It wasn't either of them who did any of the horrible things to me that made me want to never speak to any of them again. In fact, I stayed friends with the two of them for a year or so of college. And just because I get an e-mail from them occasionally doesn't mean I have to slide back into that whole life that caused me to spiral into a suicidal depression. I've finally outgrown the person that I was when I was 17. I might not have been able to be friends with them two years ago, but I can now, so I decided to be that same friendly girl that everyone knew, instead of being the bitch that wants to forget her past. Isn't that what Thanksgiving is all about? Or is that Easter?

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!

The One With the Only Day I Miss Texas

I'm sure I've mentioned on this blog in the past my hatred of the holidays. I don't like Fourth of July, I don't like Easter, I don't like Halloween and I don't like Christmas. I also don't like the way people start decorating their houses for Christmas on Halloween and how there is Christmas music on the radio in early November. My best friends and I exchange gifts during the true holiday season, March Madness.

But since becoming an adult, I have always loved Thanksgiving. Thanksgiving is the holiday that we don't have to spend with our families. It's the day that misfits who live far from home can set their own traditions with their friends. Mine was always eating Boston Market and drinking beer with my close friends in the parking lot of Texas Stadium. This was always followed by the game, of course, and then meeting at my house for some home-cooked food that would get slopped together in a fashion that would probably make my mother cringe.

In California, I'm forgoing the recent tradition of eating at the family of a co-worker to spend the day with my mom and a couple of new friends from work. But, in keeping with California tradition, I know that when the Cowboys kickoff against the Bucs I will text my best friend from Texas and tell him that I miss him. And, just for a second, I will miss Texas.

The One Where I Talk More About Chubbs

About a month ago, I applied for Chubbs and I to be a READ team, which goes to schools or libraries and helps kids learn to read. The theory behind it is that where children might feel uncomfortable reading in front of their parents or peers, they are always comfortable reading to a dog. Studies have shown that children can advance a couple of grade levels in only a couple months reading with dogs because they actually enjoy reading and even practice to show off to the dog.

I have always thought, with some encouragement from my librarian mother, that Chubbs would be great at this because he doesn't do many tricks but he does love lying next to children and getting pet. He is so great at lying his head on your lap and looking at you as if he really cares what you're up to. I have to train him to pay attention to books, but that just means that we can spend more time together.

Today, we just got our official paperwork in the mail saying that we are an approved READ team! You should have seen Chubbs running his victory lap when he heard the news (even though he doesn't really understand. :)

There is no READ program in our area. Basically, I'm going to have to start my own when I have a little extra time. But I think it will be fun, and I think it will be another great way for Chubbs to bring joy into people's lives.

Please note that Muggsy is also a wonderful dog. He was not blessed with Chubbs' amazing temperment, but he tries so hard and has become a wonderful companion. Even though our annoying neighbor dog barks all night, Muggsy comes inside and goes to sleep. Just because he can't do the things that Chubbs does doesn't mean that I don't love him just as much.

The One Where People from Mizzou Still Suck

After finding Ross absolutely intolerable on Saturday, I decided that I should quit worrying so much about my team losing. The only sport I really even watch anymore is basketball, and of course, we all know what happened last night. But I'm not upset. We knew that this team was capable of looking phenomenal like they did Saturday and then turning around and looking like the team who had 20-something turnovers against Arizona. I'd rather have them lose now than in March.

But what still annoys me is people from Mizzou. Um, I'm sorry, I'm taking crap from fans of a team that hasn't even made the NIT the last couple of years? The team that has NEVER been to a Final Four? Uh, yeah. You know, I could call/text/e-mail you every time Missouri loses, but I don't think you really want to talk to me twice a week.

I have two friends who cheer for Missouri, and I love them both very much. But during basketball season, I occasionally forget why. :)

The One with the Ode to Chubbs

This cute, happy looking guy here is Chubbs, my agility/therapy/Canine Good Citizen dog who I love to pieces. We think he's a Newfoundland/Rottweiler mix. I just want to take this time to say what a great dog I think he is because I've been so sad about his thyroid problems lately.

I found Chubbs when he was six weeks old. He had been abandoned in my yard and was covered with fleas. It was Labor Day, so animal control wouldn't come get him until the next day. I decided to get him a flea bath. The woman who bathed him told me that there were thousands of fleas on him. They had eaten away part of his hair, and he seemed so sad. All he wanted to do was sleep. The next day, I decided to take him to the vet. He had worms, of course, from his fleas, so I started giving him some medication and nursing him back to health. He also needed to be potty-trained. My office never smelled the same after Chubbs came along.

I wasn't really sure that I wanted to keep him because Muggsy didn't seem happy to have another dog in the house, but my boyfriend at the time really wanted him. He became a part of the family. It was so rewarding to see him start to feel better and develop a personality. He would get so excited when it was time for dinner that he would go running full blast across our wood floors and slam into the wall when he tried to turn the corner. We never thought he was that smart, but he was loving and made a nice complement to the house.

When Paolo and I broke up, I thought he would keep Chubbs, but he didn't want him. That left me with two 80-pound dogs who didn't really like each other. Muggsy kept attacking Chubbs, and I didn't know what to do about it. At one point, I had even considered giving Chubbs to my mom. But something about Chubbs just makes you want to stick with him.

I became a dog trainer and had him evaluated by my new boss. I started training him and was amazed at how quickly he learned. Turned out, he was a lot smarter than I gave him credit for. I started using him as my demo dog in class and became amazed at how much people loved him and how much he loved people, especially kids. Just Sunday, he broke off the agility course to say hello to a little girl. I decided to do therapy work with him. He passed both of his tests with perfect scores. In fact, the women who evaluated him absolutely fell in love with him. Right now, I'm too busy to get too involved, but we visit a group home twice a month, where he was just recently honored for his service.

I also have him doing agility, not because I think he will be good at it but because I want to learn more about it, and he's such a good sport. He's actually amazing at it. He's not fast, but he's not afraid of the obstacles. When he's not showing off by running to visit one of his many admirers, he runs the course beautifully. You should see his chest puff out when he gets applause.

This Sunday, he was feeling pretty bad, trying to adjust to the medicene. Many of his admirers noticed that he seemed lethargic. But he stuck with it the whole class. He was the first dog to get the weave poles right, he did the jumps perfectly, and he even trucked up the A-frame, which he hates. When he looked up at me, waiting for his liver treat, I couldn't stop laughing and realized that I want more than anything for him to be OK and healthy and happy.

Anyway, I just wanted this chance to brag about how great he is. Because he is. And he seems to be feeling a lot better today. When I get up in the morning, his tail wags so hard that his butt almost swings around and hits him in the face. He's so happy. This morning, he did that again. And that makes me happy.

The One With the Dumb Saying

Who came up with "An apple a day keeps the doctor away"? Such crap. When I was in college, I ate an apple every day, and I had ulcers and other medical problems. Now, I eat an apple a day, and I still have ulcers and problems with my stomach.

When I lived in Dallas, I had a couple beers a day and I was never healthier. Time to change the saying? I think so.

The One With the Strange (Bad) News

Yesterday, I got a strange call from my specialist. She told me that Fenway was fine but that Chubbs, who just went to get a titer taken, has low thyroid. He has a low T3 and a low T4, which is apparently pretty bad. He's going to have to be on medication for the rest of his life.

I feel so bad. He's had such a tough life, what with being abandoned covered with fleas and sick with worms then living in a home where he gets attacked by his brother, and now he has a thyroid problem. This is most likely the reason that his legs are so short even though he's a big breed dog and why I have such a hard time keeping his coat nice. But he doesn't show any other problems, except slight weight gain and easy to tire. Now he's on medication for life.

Speaking of Chubbs' problem life, Muggsy attacked him twice this week. I've seen some of the old signs cropping up -- the whale eye, growling when Chubbs walks in the room. I'm just not sure what to do about it. I'm going back a few steps, using abandonment and separation. I'm going to try to get Muggsy more exercise and keep him out of the backyard as much and more in the bedroom where he can get some quiet sleep.

Guess I'll just continue to do the best I can and hope that's good enough...

The One With Musings from Vacation

Yes, I'm on vacation. I'm not going anywhere, but I took a week off of work. I don't have to go back until next Tuesday. I have a lot of errands I want to run, and I have a lot of reading and writing that I want to catch up on. I have to work for dog training every day this week except today, but it's still a vacation.

I just wanted to share a couple of funny musings from my morning. I went to get my haircut, and unlike most So Cal women who pay upward of $100 for their haircuts, I go to SuperCuts and pay $12. But I have this one woman I always go to, a Hispanic woman in her late 50s named Angel. I really like her, and she does a great job with my hair. Today, when she was cutting it, she started singing "Let's Get It On" along with the radio. I had to bite my tongue to keep from laughing.

Then, I left my haircut and saw a guy using the window of someone's car as a mirror while he combed his moustache. Only in California. People are so weird out here.

I also had to take Chubbs and Fenway to the vet, which is hard because they had to get blood drawn. Most of you haven't seen Fenway in awhile, but her allergies have been so bad, that she's chewed a huge chunk of hair off her side and has blisters on her skin. We've taken her to the vet and put her on supplements, but nothing seems to be helping. So I took her to a specialist to see what was going on.

Tomorrow, I think I'm going to go on my yearly shopping trip before dog class. I like not going to work. It's fun.

The One Where I Believe in Karma

Well, I don't know if I really believe in karma, but I'm starting to. Here I am, still awake at 1 a.m. on election night. Why? Because the television stations don't report on water district races. The only place I can find whether or not I will still be working for the same group of people tomorrow morning is by hitting the reload button repeatedly on the County Registrar site.

Until today, I thought the only Director that I like was going to be booted and the one I truly hate was going to be re-elected. The other one that's up for election, I really don't care about, but he often votes with the two I hate. I've really been in the dumps about my job lately. Let's just keep piling it on.

But when I came home from dog class, I found something truly extraordinary had happened. So interesting, in fact, that I even interrupted my famous partying colleague, Gandolf, at Taco Tuesday and got his attention. The Director we all expected to lose was winning, and the Director we all expected to win was losing. Almost 50 percent of the precincts have reported and the results are still the same. The other Director has been in a tight race all night and just started trailing by a percentage point about an hour ago with 75 percent of precincts reporting. It's not official yet, and I'm not sure how much longer I'm going to stay up. We tried calling our manager at midnight, and she was asleep. So much for our fearless leader. If she's not sick, she's sleeping. Sigh.

Anyway, to say this has been a good night for me is an understatement. I'm excited about all the power the Democrats seem to be regaining, Kansas finally ousting some of the morons on the Board of Education so we won't be the laughingstock of the nation anymore and karma rearing its oh-so-beautiful head in the water industry. The night wasn't perfect, of course, as I'm sure you all saw that we retained our Governator. But as far as Republicans go, he's pretty moderate, and he has a decent handle on environmental issues.

Gandolf is now telling me that our night is far from over. But I'm tired. I'm not sure how much longer I'll last. I'm just going to keep routing for karma. It's served me well so far...

The One With Demotivators

Who hates their job? I do. I do.

We have all these dumb successories on our walls to motivate us, which is just too dumb for words, so today, one of my photographers introduced me to this web site:

http://despair.com/viewall.html

Pretty funny.

The One Where We Go to Ft. Worth

Well we're going to Texas. Chandler's parents moved down there a couple of months ago, and ever since they have expererienced significant separation anxiety. Not from Chandler, but from David and their other grandkids. So we're going to visit.

If I don't return, ya'll will know that a Texan ate me.