Thursday, January 24, 2008

Whoever said you can't buy happiness forgot little puppies. - Gene Hill

It was one year ago that a broken hearted and quite ruined Texie walked dazed and sad eyed into a puppy shop. I knew I was broken and needed some healing. And I knew the very thing that would heal my wounds. I needed a dog. I found many adorable pups in this store, but my intentions were not to buy but to do my homework to find the perfect breed for me. They were separated into play pins and got to stay with their litter mates. All of them were just excited and happy as could be. There were cages up on one wall too, but they were empty and I was happy to see this because they seemed too sterile and isolated. But then, deep in the darkness of one of these cages appeared two huge eyes. They called to me, and I went to them. Then erupting out of the darkness was none other than my new best friend. At first she was sad (reeling me in, I now realize) and so I held her tight and then she started to play a little, swatting her tiny paws at my fingers. I signed for her immediately. Now we don’t need to discuss how much I paid for Annie, mostly because it still makes me a little nauseous! Or the fact that I bought her from a horrible puppy store and they should all be burned down. But she was well worth it and I would pay double for her today if I had to. Annie immediately mended my broken heart and was, honestly, one of the best decisions I ever made! Girls, a little advice from me: If you need to replace a man….get a dog. I promise, it works great! I say that even now after hundreds of dollars that went to fixing a chronic bladder infection problem in the poor pup. Now, one year later. I have a pleasant, adorable; hyper Boston terrier that goes everywhere I go (has even come to work with me a few times). Annie loves life and I love watching her love life. The best thing she has taught me so far is that it’s okay if you miss the couch on the first jump.

Wednesday, January 23, 2008

January Girl?

Many have heard me say on many occasions that “I’m a January girl”. I usually say this during January when the “summer lovers” are in full complaining mode and feel that they can no longer go on. As these poor souls start to wilt away, I get a sparkle in my eye. There is just something about winter. Especially in Utah. It’s almost blissful to me. I love the oversized coats, the bundling and mittens. The clean beautiful snowflakes as they leave God and land directly on my tongue. I love the ice turning into crystal cities all around me and the trees glimmering and like glass in the sun. The Hot cocoa, the warm fires, all of it. This is the time of year when it’s okay to just stay in and visit with friends and family without the guilt of “I should be outside doing something” looming over your head.

BUT…..But this year, I have to admit I am really getting down. This is the coldest winter in Utah in four years (weather man told me this morning) and well, damn it….I’m cold.

When the sun is shining its brightest, that is when Utah is at its coldest because it means of coarse that there is nothing “holding” in the warmth. And then a storm comes in and with much appreciation, we do warm up to maybe a scorching 32 degrees. And this is nice and much appreciated, but then another 6” or more of snow is dumped on us and as we climb out of the gigantic igloo that mother nature seems insistent upon building right on top of us, one of two things happens; It either remains overcast, which then causes an inversion, which then makes you cough and feel….well, outright sick; or it clears up and you are freezing your butt off once again. This year has just been extra cold, extra snowy, extra all the negatives and the mug is really feeling half empty, and it has a chip in it, and I just cut my lip.

Does anyone have a tulip?

Can dummies serve and protect?

So I am driving Bridger to work this morning and we come to the stop light in front of Maverick. The light turns green but the lady in front of us doesn't go. I honk my horn. No moving for us. Finally after the light turns red again, I back up a little (careful not to hit the car behind me) and begin to go around this person because obviously they are having car problems or something. As I pass I look into the window and there sits a girl, probably 20 or so, head back, mouth open, completely out of it! I scream "Oh God, Bridger she's dead!!) and try to pull my car as far in front of her car as I can get it. I slam the car into park and open the door, I said "Turn on my emergency lights and find my cell phone in my purse". I run over to the car and slam my hand down on the hood. (Because there is nothing in the world that will wake up a dead person better, than scaring the hell out of them.) Nothing happens.
I run over to her window and bang on it a couple times….nothing.
I try to open her door but it is locked.
I try the back seat door, but its locked as well.
I go back to the front and start yelling and banging on the window "hey….wake up". (Mean while cars are behind me, nobody gets out, nobody cares it would seem) And as I am about to tell Bridger to call 911, her eyes open wide, she takes a deep breath, her head lowers and she wipes her mouth and I see her mouth the word "Ohhhh Gooood". I motion for her to roll her window down and as I do a Sheriffs truck pulls up next to her and turns on his siren to move me along. I point down at her car and mouth the words "She needs help". And he motions for me to move along.
I get in my car, turn on my blinker make my turn at the light and the stupid idiot follows me and pulls ME over.
I say as he approaches, "You need to go help that girl! She is out of it, something is seriously wrong."
He starts in with these questions "do you know her? How did you know she was unconscious if you were behind her?" Blah, blah, blah, I mean it went on forever. I finally said "Look at her car it is still in the turning lane! She still has not moved, she could be dead! I don't know her I was not stopping in the middle of the road to "chit chat" I thought she was dead, SHE NEEDS HELP". He says "Alright…..Immmmm aaaaa I'm gonna let you run along".
Oh lordy! I dropped Bridger off and on the way back passed them, they had got her pulled over to the side of the road, (another cop was there by then) and had her out of the curb while they searched her car. Meaning she was not dying but was probably spracked out on drugs and REALLY inconvenienced my morning. Anyway it was an interesting little ditty that I thought I would share so there you go!

Christmas Chocolate

I don't know what to write about. Umm well I think because I am stuffing my mouth with leftover Christmas chocolate that I should at least mention the effects, or possible effects that chocolate has over Christmas. It starts on December 1st and does not end until on or about January 7th. Chocolate. It's everywhere. And comes in every variety known to man at this time of year and it always looks so beautiful. With nuts, without nuts, with sprinkles and bows, with shapes like bears and animals. Decorated with white frosting, or left in a chunk, its everywhere, its everywhere, and you're about to be a fat fuck! (lol that rhymed!)This is the time of year that Hershey's can go to hell. Nothing but "homemade" chocolate…stuff will do! And so we eat. Week one is over and we think to ourselves… "Oh boy, I better slow down on those chocolates". But when we see them again in all their d├ęcor, we are rendered helpless. By the time week three rolls around were drunk on chocolate. It's been said that "large amounts of chocolate can give you the same high as being in love!" BEING IN LOVE! Did you know that so much was wrapped up in the yummy M&M? I knew this but it still baffles me. So that's why everyone loves Christmas. They think they are all good, happy, Christians, celebrating the birth of the Lord, but really the world has been conditioning them for euphoria since December 1st and now they're just roaming about the stores and malls, high on chocolate and saying (in a drunken voice, mind you) "Its Christmas and I don't even care if I get fat. I was already half way to fat when it all began anyways." And so they eat. By the time January 7th comes around we are all piling into work in a mad attempt to fill our last urges when we realize that, (Dum, Dum, Dum….) "it's gone". This is why everyone goes through those "post holiday blues". They're not sad that Christmas is over, they are in full blown detox and their bodies and minds are going "what the hell? Where's the happiness ya bastard?". Of course they have no idea where it was coming from and so they suffer for a few more weeks, tired, withdrawn, and attempting to lose the traditional 10 that won't allow their pants to button with ease anymore.

Drugs and Drug Addicts

We have all seen them. We have all talked with them. Hell we all probably know one. That time sucking, all about me, drug addict. I know them well. Each and every one of them; the pothead, the alcoholic, the crack head, cocaine, meth, heroine…which let's face it, if you are abusing prescription medications, then you are essentially but in much more eloquent words….a heroine junkie.

The Pill popper is a special kind of addict. They are the Paris Hiltons of the drug world. They don't think that they are "real" addicts because they don't stand on a corner at 3:00am waiting for their fix. No instead they manipulate the most disgusting system of them all…The Medical System. (As if the Medical industry weren't already the biggest crock of shit in this country!) Did you know that there is a place that Dr's can call to get a list of prescriptions and pharmacies their patients have been too to see if they are "Dr. shopping" and that these Dr's rarely use this resource because they would lose the business. They (People who have sworn an oath to aid humanity) don't want to lose the precious money that these waste of oxygen users bring into their selfish lives. And yes, I can say that all addicts are a waste of oxygen because they really are, but underneath that I have a respect for the value of their human life, a respect that these Dr's apparently lose upon blanketing the royal white jacket.
Don't get me wrong. I am not opposed to All Dr's. My Doctor, in fact, knows my family history (which contains at least one of all the listed drug types above) and therefore watches me very closely, this small effort he puts toward knowing what is going on inside my body makes me respect him on a level I cannot really describe and I thank him.
Don't have drug addict tornado'ing through your life? Well, you won't have the problem unless they have figured some intelligent way (usually through emotion) to manipulate you into taking care of their every desire. What do you do with them? You obviously can't throw them away as they are your loves and a part of your heart. But when they don't call for a month or get put in jail for a minute you find yourself exhaling and thanking God for the break.
I don't wish these loved ones harm. I want them to get "fixed". However, the likeliness of it, puts this desire on the non-realistic wish list. So what do you do? Obviously the answer is…absolutely Nothing! But the fear of the inevitable sometimes overwhelms (especially upon frequent hospital runs) and for a brief moment you forget that you have no choice in the matter and you fight like hell to save their wasted, worthless lives. This random hope comes out of nowhere. Hits you the way I'd imagine a bus would, unexpectedly appearing in front of you. If you're lucky you'll just fall out of its way and let the stress dissipate of its own accord.
It takes too long to wait for their demise. Whether it be death or sobriety, it's a waiting game, and the answer to the "will it be death or sobriety" question does not rear its ugly head until the very, very, very end of it all.