As promised, here's the second part of my Christmas post. P.S. Alex was not one who said these posts were too long. My bad.
My family's church has an evening Christmas eve church service every year. This is one thing that I always loved about my church growing up. I'd get a brand new pretty dress, look at the lights on all the houses on the way to the church, walk into the church through a path lit by luminaries, and listen to and sing Christmas carols. The grand finale was when the lights would dim to nearly darkness and everyone would pass a flame from candle to candle until the whole church was lit by candlelight while singing Silent Night.
This year, because my sister is in the bell choir at church, Alex and I went for the Christmas eve service to watch her perform. And although religion is not for me (a well thought out decision, trust me) there's something about getting together in a beautiful setting and talking about kindness towards one another that moves me.
I remember in elementary school learning about a "well being triangle". This triangle consisted of three points: physical well being, emotional well being, and spiritual well being. The triangle had to be an equilateral triangle for overall well being. Physical and emotional well being are pretty straight forward, but I've struggled to figure out the spiritual point. People with religion have it pretty easy. The belief of a greater being is the most common form of spirituality and there are many ways of fulfilling that point of the triangle with this belief. People like me, however, can have a harder time figuring it out.
The definition of spirituality on Wikipedia (very trustworthy, I know) is the following:
Spirituality can refer to an ultimate or an alleged immaterial reality;[1] an inner path enabling a person to discover the essence of his/her being; or the “deepest values and meanings by which people live.”[2] Spiritual practices, including meditation, prayer and contemplation, are intended to develop an individual's inner life; spiritual experience includes that of connectedness with a larger reality, yielding a more comprehensive self; with other individuals or the human community; with nature or the cosmos; or with the divine realm.[3] Spirituality is often experienced as a source of inspiration or orientation in life.[4] It can encompass belief in immaterial realities or experiences of the immanent or transcendent nature of the world.
Many people who do not have a religion find spirituality in things such as nature, community work, even drugs. Where is this going, you ask? While I was sitting in that Christmas eve church service listening to the minister talk about loving one another and caring for those less fortunate, while watching a girl that I sang with in a youth group when I was younger now leading the children in the church choir in song, while watching my sister proudly play her bells, and while sitting in silence in the candle lit sanctuary at the end, I decided I wanted something more in my life. I want to be able to join in a congregation of people with spirituality similar to mine. Instead of worship, I want to get together and enjoy the greatness of nature. I want to get together and talk about loving one another, talk about improving the community. I want somewhere to go where my children can sing and foster their confidence and talk about the good in life instead of seeing all the bad. I want to show everyone that a congregation of people who follow no god can do good in the community. Big dreams, I know, but my triangle is not equilateral and I can feel the affects.
If anyone out there agrees with me and/or would be willing to be a part of this kind of congregation, please comment.
Tuesday, December 27, 2011
Sunday, December 25, 2011
Christmas 2011
First off, I was informed by some people (ahem Alex and Alicia) that my blogs are too long so I will post two today instead of one long one. You're welcome.
I started off this Christmas a little touchy. When I realized it was because my grandma is on hospice and (although doing well considering) may not be around next Christmas, I told Alex. He responded by telling me it could be anyone's last Christmas.
How true that is. And because it is so true, his words (which I think were supposed to help me relax and enjoy what and who I have) really hit me hard. We had a rough year of unexpected losses, people we expected would be here now to celebrate Christmas with us again. And I don't think I'm ready to accept that you can't count on having all your loved ones in your life for another year. I want them all here now and for the rest of my life. There. You can't control death, I know, but I don't want to roll over and say "Ok, Go. I'm ready." I never will be able to do that.
What I do want to say is thank you. Thank you everyone for existing. Thank you for breathing and eating and laughing and crying. Thank you Mom and Dad for showing me how to live. Thank you Alex for showing me love. Thank you friends and family for showing me the good side of life, the reason for being. Thank you jerk inconsiderate driver for showing me that I have patience and forgiveness. Thank you underprivileged child for showing me that I have compassion. Keep breathing and eating and laughing and crying. I will if you will.
Merry Christmas.
I started off this Christmas a little touchy. When I realized it was because my grandma is on hospice and (although doing well considering) may not be around next Christmas, I told Alex. He responded by telling me it could be anyone's last Christmas.
How true that is. And because it is so true, his words (which I think were supposed to help me relax and enjoy what and who I have) really hit me hard. We had a rough year of unexpected losses, people we expected would be here now to celebrate Christmas with us again. And I don't think I'm ready to accept that you can't count on having all your loved ones in your life for another year. I want them all here now and for the rest of my life. There. You can't control death, I know, but I don't want to roll over and say "Ok, Go. I'm ready." I never will be able to do that.
What I do want to say is thank you. Thank you everyone for existing. Thank you for breathing and eating and laughing and crying. Thank you Mom and Dad for showing me how to live. Thank you Alex for showing me love. Thank you friends and family for showing me the good side of life, the reason for being. Thank you jerk inconsiderate driver for showing me that I have patience and forgiveness. Thank you underprivileged child for showing me that I have compassion. Keep breathing and eating and laughing and crying. I will if you will.
Merry Christmas.
Saturday, December 17, 2011
Kitty on the Crossbeams (or Theres a Mother-Fing Cat in our Mother-Fing Ceiling)
Kitty on the Crossbeams (or Theres a Mother-Fing Cat in our Mother-Fing Ceiling)
A non illustrated picture book, based on a true story.
Written by: Amanda Freshman
Non illustrated by: Amanda Freshman
This book is dedicated to anyone in the pest control business, who has to deal with this kind of thing all the time.
PAGE 1:
Late one night, Girl and Boy were in the kitchen, cookin' up some chicken, laughing at the day's events and waiting for the sauce to thicken.
{pic of Girl and Boy with aprons on, scent swizzles rising from the pan over the stove)
PAGE 2:
The sizzle in the pan was interrupted by a meow at the door. Zoey, Girl and Boy's cat, stopped what she was doing and listened for more.
(pic of Zoey looking at the door, head cocked to one side)
PAGE 3:
Girl opened the door hesitantly and peeked outside. A black cat jumping into the garage attic was what she spied!
(pic of Girl staring wide-eyed at glowing eyes, looking at her from a hole in the garage ceiling)
PAGE 4:
Shrieking, Girl stepped back and shut the door tight. She thought to herself, "Here comes an interesting night." Girl explained the dilemma as Boy listened close. She said to him, "Now what do you propose?"
(pic of Girl and Boy standing by the garage door talking, Zoey the cat sitting in between the two of them, watching them worriedly)
PAGE 5:
Boy said to Girl, "It'll be okay. Look, there are stairs to the attic, I'll lead the way." In the garage he pulled the stairs down from a hiding place in the ceiling. Girl replied with a frown. Those stairs looked rickety, yes they did. Those stairs looked dangerous, heaven forbid.
(pic of rickety stairs leading to the attic. Girl and Boy are looking at each other with hesitant smiles)
PAGE 6:
They crept up those stairs, one at a time. The air was cold and dusty, forever did they climb.
(pic of Zoey watching Girl and Boy ascend the stairs from below)
PAGE 7:
Up they went with a creak.
(pic of Boy in front of Girl on the stairs)
PAGE 8:
Creak.
(same pic as the last page)
PAGE 9:
Creak.
(same pic as the last page)
PAGE 10:
The silence was eerie, the darkness was too. Goose bumps covered their bodies, from head to shoe. At the top of the stairs they peered around for the cat. They saw instead a kitty sized hole in between a couple slats. The hole lead to the ceiling of their warm home. Girl and Boy looked at each other with a groan.
(pic of glowing eyes looking at boy and girl from a hole leading to the ceiling of the house)
PAGE 11:
Girl and Boy descended the stairs, what could they do? They sat down for chicken dinner to think things through.
(pic of Girl and Boy sitting at a table, poking at food with their forks. View out the large window is a full moon with tall, leafless trees. Zoey is sitting in the window sill looking out)
PAGE 12:
Girl said to Boy, "What do we do, put out some food in a bowl?" Boy said to Girl, "Lets call Animal Control." They'd have to wait till morning, they supposed. Yes, they'd have to wait, for the business was closed.
(pic of Boy with his pointer finger raised as if with a great idea, giant grin on his face)
PAGE 13:
All night long they could hear the cat creep across the crossbeams in their ceiling. Neither could sleep.
(pic of Girl and Boy lying in bed, looking up wide-eyed at the ceiling, bags under their eyes. Zoey is curled up asleep at the foot of the bed)
PAGE 14:
The next day, Girl was on the phone bright and early. Animal Control said to rent a trap for a fee. Place some food in the trap, set it up and wait. Soon the cat would come and take the bait. Then let it go outside or call back and an officer could come pick it up in a sack.
(pic of Girl on the phone with a skeptical look on her face)
PAGE 15:
Well they got the trap, they set it up, they placed it outside with some food in a cup. They waited and waited and in no time at all they heard a clamoring, even down the hall.
(pic of Girl and Boy smiling in satisfaction at each other)
PAGE 16:
Boy went outside and uncovered the trap. Sure enough, a black kitty was eyeing him back. This cat was not happy, no he was not. He yowled and growled and hissed and fought.
(pic of a black cat with its hair standing on end, not looking happy with Boy swallowing a lump in his throat)
PAGE 17:
Boy opened the garage and released the cat outside, it ran (and fast!) and soon did it hide. Girl and Boy looked at each other and sighed with relief. Girl said to Boy, "This time for dinner, let's eat some beef!" They smiled and laughed and thought the story was done...
(pic of Boy and Girl sitting at the table looking at each other with relief, pretty sunset out the large window with Zoey in the window sill)
PAGE 18:
until the next night when they heard more sounds in the ceiling and realized it had just begun.
(pic of Girl and Boy lying in bed with eyes bulging, big circles under their eyes, Zoey looking just as distressed)
A non illustrated picture book, based on a true story.
Written by: Amanda Freshman
Non illustrated by: Amanda Freshman
This book is dedicated to anyone in the pest control business, who has to deal with this kind of thing all the time.
PAGE 1:
Late one night, Girl and Boy were in the kitchen, cookin' up some chicken, laughing at the day's events and waiting for the sauce to thicken.
{pic of Girl and Boy with aprons on, scent swizzles rising from the pan over the stove)
PAGE 2:
The sizzle in the pan was interrupted by a meow at the door. Zoey, Girl and Boy's cat, stopped what she was doing and listened for more.
(pic of Zoey looking at the door, head cocked to one side)
PAGE 3:
Girl opened the door hesitantly and peeked outside. A black cat jumping into the garage attic was what she spied!
(pic of Girl staring wide-eyed at glowing eyes, looking at her from a hole in the garage ceiling)
PAGE 4:
Shrieking, Girl stepped back and shut the door tight. She thought to herself, "Here comes an interesting night." Girl explained the dilemma as Boy listened close. She said to him, "Now what do you propose?"
(pic of Girl and Boy standing by the garage door talking, Zoey the cat sitting in between the two of them, watching them worriedly)
PAGE 5:
Boy said to Girl, "It'll be okay. Look, there are stairs to the attic, I'll lead the way." In the garage he pulled the stairs down from a hiding place in the ceiling. Girl replied with a frown. Those stairs looked rickety, yes they did. Those stairs looked dangerous, heaven forbid.
(pic of rickety stairs leading to the attic. Girl and Boy are looking at each other with hesitant smiles)
PAGE 6:
They crept up those stairs, one at a time. The air was cold and dusty, forever did they climb.
(pic of Zoey watching Girl and Boy ascend the stairs from below)
PAGE 7:
Up they went with a creak.
(pic of Boy in front of Girl on the stairs)
PAGE 8:
Creak.
(same pic as the last page)
PAGE 9:
Creak.
(same pic as the last page)
PAGE 10:
The silence was eerie, the darkness was too. Goose bumps covered their bodies, from head to shoe. At the top of the stairs they peered around for the cat. They saw instead a kitty sized hole in between a couple slats. The hole lead to the ceiling of their warm home. Girl and Boy looked at each other with a groan.
(pic of glowing eyes looking at boy and girl from a hole leading to the ceiling of the house)
PAGE 11:
Girl and Boy descended the stairs, what could they do? They sat down for chicken dinner to think things through.
(pic of Girl and Boy sitting at a table, poking at food with their forks. View out the large window is a full moon with tall, leafless trees. Zoey is sitting in the window sill looking out)
PAGE 12:
Girl said to Boy, "What do we do, put out some food in a bowl?" Boy said to Girl, "Lets call Animal Control." They'd have to wait till morning, they supposed. Yes, they'd have to wait, for the business was closed.
(pic of Boy with his pointer finger raised as if with a great idea, giant grin on his face)
PAGE 13:
All night long they could hear the cat creep across the crossbeams in their ceiling. Neither could sleep.
(pic of Girl and Boy lying in bed, looking up wide-eyed at the ceiling, bags under their eyes. Zoey is curled up asleep at the foot of the bed)
PAGE 14:
The next day, Girl was on the phone bright and early. Animal Control said to rent a trap for a fee. Place some food in the trap, set it up and wait. Soon the cat would come and take the bait. Then let it go outside or call back and an officer could come pick it up in a sack.
(pic of Girl on the phone with a skeptical look on her face)
PAGE 15:
Well they got the trap, they set it up, they placed it outside with some food in a cup. They waited and waited and in no time at all they heard a clamoring, even down the hall.
(pic of Girl and Boy smiling in satisfaction at each other)
PAGE 16:
Boy went outside and uncovered the trap. Sure enough, a black kitty was eyeing him back. This cat was not happy, no he was not. He yowled and growled and hissed and fought.
(pic of a black cat with its hair standing on end, not looking happy with Boy swallowing a lump in his throat)
PAGE 17:
Boy opened the garage and released the cat outside, it ran (and fast!) and soon did it hide. Girl and Boy looked at each other and sighed with relief. Girl said to Boy, "This time for dinner, let's eat some beef!" They smiled and laughed and thought the story was done...
(pic of Boy and Girl sitting at the table looking at each other with relief, pretty sunset out the large window with Zoey in the window sill)
PAGE 18:
until the next night when they heard more sounds in the ceiling and realized it had just begun.
(pic of Girl and Boy lying in bed with eyes bulging, big circles under their eyes, Zoey looking just as distressed)
Tuesday, December 6, 2011
On noses
I have always had a rough relationship with my nose. It is gargantuan. Not only that, it has a lovely little bump to it that makes me look like my ancestors were closer to birds than chimps. This has given me profile-photo-phobia. PPP. When I was younger, balls were drawn to my nose. I got to leave P.E. early several times due to a bloody nose brought on by a soccer ball in the face. Don't even get me started with dodge ball.
Because of the insecurities I have regarding my own nose, I can spot a good nose from a mile away. Some girls look at celebrities and wish they had their hair, boobs, stomach, blah blah blah. This is me: "Look at her nose! Look at that. How is a nose that beautiful even possible? My God, woman, you are blessed." And to be honest, the nose on a man's face falls in my radar too. My husband, Alex, has a gorgeous nose. Words cannot describe this nose. Angular, but not too big. Not too little. Strong but not dominating the whole face. Nostrils in perfect ratio to the rest of the nose. And, like the cinnamon sprinkled on a snickerdoodle cookie, little bitty freckles right across the top. Subtle freckles. A lesson that could be taught to my nose.
Is this going somewhere, you ask? Absolutely. My nose runs in my family. My mom has it. Her mom has it. I'm never going to get away from it, so I've decided to embrace it. I've always wanted to get a nose stud. They look amazing in cute little girl sized noses, but mine? I've always stopped myself by asking this question: should I really be drawing more attention to it? Well, in going with the whole embrace it theme, I got it pierced last Friday. This was my weekend:
Friday: Yay!
Saturday: Woo!! Did it!!
Sunday: Feels so great! Yess, look at this nose.
Later Sunday night: Crap, I think this might go against work policy.
Well, Monday morning I did the honorable thing and marched into my manager's office. She looked at me and I said (while pointing to my nose), "Look what I did this weekend." Exact words. She very nicely told me she didn't care but the clinic policy does. So our solution is for me to wear a bandaid over it until I can go put a clear retainer in the hole in a few weeks when it isn't brand new. Then, in 3 to 6 months when it's fully healed I can wear my cute stud outside of work and switch to the retainer while at work. She's been in good humor about the whole thing, which is great because right now I'm walking around work with a giant bandage attached to my nose. I haven't explained to anyone and you can just see the wheels turning when my coworkers look at me. It's impolite to ask about any facial blemishes in our society, so they just look at me and wait for an explanation I don't give. I got one, "Oh, are you ok?". I said "Yep." It's like the white elephant gift exchange I went to over the weekend. You can't resist picking a wrapped present because of the curiosity factor. Anything could be under that wrapping paper. Anything. Well, the same is true for my coworkers. I'm sure they are thinking, "What's under there? Must be bad cause she's not saying anything." And every day longer I go into work with a bandaid on my face their internal questions get more urgent. "What could it be? Must be bad if it's been there this long. Must be real bad. Do you think it's contagious? She wouldn't come to work if it was contagious, right?" I will tell them eventually but I'm enjoying myself for now.
Bandage nose. Awkward.
Sunday, December 4, 2011
Gender
Me with Grandma Frances
Me with Grandma MargieI've been thinking a bit about a conversation I listened to last night about gender roles. I do have a strong opinion about this subject, but before I give it to you flat out, let me give you some of my background.
I've always been a tom boy. Like, I hated having my hair brushed when I was little, detested pink, played with the boys, got dirty. I didn't start wearing makeup until maybe my junior year in high school and I still don't know how to curl my hair. I took a Women Studies class in high school and studied a little feminism independently.
I had two very different grandmas growing up. My grandma Margie eloped with my grandpa when she was fifteen and he was eighteen. She stopped going to high school to start a family and had her first child when she was (I think) seventeen. That is not to say she wasn't smart. She was a very intelligent woman with a strong will. She managed the family finances and was the boss around there. She went back to school and got her GED when her kiddos were all grown up. She did that for herself. She was a mother and a house wife. My grandpa worked and she raised three kids, cooked, cleaned, and kept everyone in line. They had a marriage of mutual respect and love. They were married for a little over 60 years until she passed away. If you ask anyone about that marriage they will tell you two people couldn't love one another more than those two did.
My other grandma Frances joined the Navy and repaired planes for the Pacific War. She went to college. She was in her later twenties before she had her first child, which was fairly late back then. She worked at the University in the botany department. She enjoyed dressing up for Halloween parties and her rum and cokes. Though she was a very independent woman, she and my grandpa also had a strong relationship. They had respect for one another and loved and understood each other more than I think anyone will know. Growing up, I remember watching them spend time together; you could just see that their relationship was deep and strong. I don't know how to explain it except like that.
Gender isn't like sex. It's not a question of female or male. It's a whole spectrum. I was talking to a girl I work with who is taking Genetics up at the University of Utah and she was sharing with me all the different factors that go into gender, physiologically. It's something you are born with. I have a friend with a one year old granddaughter who found an old baby doll laying around the house that was her mother's when she was little. She carries that little baby with her everywhere, even though so far she's been brought up in gender neutral environment. I've also known little boys who are very nurturing and sensitive, even when brought up in a testosterone heavy childhood. The same is true of typical "boy" gender roles. My nephew is such a boy. Just drawn to trucks, knocking blocks over, being loud and playing rough, although he has two big sisters and had mostly their toys to play with for the first couple years. I've also seen girls who love to wrestle and hate pink, like myself.
To get to the point, I am all for equal rights and freedom to choose however you want your life to be, whether you are a man or a woman. I think people should be who they are. If a man wants to stay home with the kids while the woman works, fine. Visa versa. If a woman chooses not to marry, good for her. Whatever makes you happy. Although my both my grandmas led fairly different lives and made different choices, I don't think one led a more meaningful life than the other. I respect and love them both equally. So please, if you are arguing for women's rights, don't be condescending towards the women that choose to marry, stay home with those babies, let the man earn the money. We all deserve to choose how to live and be happy and no one should be looked down upon for their choices.
Monday, November 28, 2011
Leaves
Leaves grow as the biting air yields to warm sunlight.
Buds open to blossoms. Promises of new life. A continuation of what was.
The sky is filled with a sweet scent. Sweet like a child rolling on the newly uncovered ground, snow melted all away, with bits of grass in her hair, a building giggle coming from a mouth with pink, air chapped lips and cheeks rosy with the crisp air of spring.
Falling flowers, fair, fresh, signal a change.
Long, elegant arms will soon be heavy with fruit.
Shiny apples, red as gems,
plucked from the branches. Treasures in themselves.
Jewels carried in the hands of a woman with long, fire colored hair. Glimmering eyes picking the perfect one to savor. Hand wiping away perspiration, she bites into the treat on this hot, almost but not quite too bright day.
Thankful for the leaves,
providing shade.
Brisk breezes cannot stay away. Not for long, anyway.
Colors explode from the once green leaves.
Inspiring awe, they are flaming red. Orange and yellow, golden like the once summer sunlight.
They are everywhere.
Soon they will dry and fade. The wind that once rattled through the branches and made the leaves dance and sparkle with life in the light of the day, will steal them away from the strong, determined branches.
They will ride the wind to the ground, leaving the branches as empty arms, full of knots.
They will crunch under the feet of a woman rich with memories of many autumns past. A woman who is awe inspiring herself, the wrinkles of her face marks of honor. Her grey hair unkempt in the fluttering air. Her hands, hands that guided and protected the hands of her children, guided and protected the hands of her grandchildren, will be busy.
Picking up the pieces.
Frigid.
Ice covered branches.
Empty.
Leaves will grow as the biting air yields to warm sunlight.
Buds will open to blossoms. Promises of new life. A continuation of what was.
Buds open to blossoms. Promises of new life. A continuation of what was.
The sky is filled with a sweet scent. Sweet like a child rolling on the newly uncovered ground, snow melted all away, with bits of grass in her hair, a building giggle coming from a mouth with pink, air chapped lips and cheeks rosy with the crisp air of spring.
Falling flowers, fair, fresh, signal a change.
Long, elegant arms will soon be heavy with fruit.
Shiny apples, red as gems,
plucked from the branches. Treasures in themselves.
Jewels carried in the hands of a woman with long, fire colored hair. Glimmering eyes picking the perfect one to savor. Hand wiping away perspiration, she bites into the treat on this hot, almost but not quite too bright day.
Thankful for the leaves,
providing shade.
Brisk breezes cannot stay away. Not for long, anyway.
Colors explode from the once green leaves.
Inspiring awe, they are flaming red. Orange and yellow, golden like the once summer sunlight.
They are everywhere.
Soon they will dry and fade. The wind that once rattled through the branches and made the leaves dance and sparkle with life in the light of the day, will steal them away from the strong, determined branches.
They will ride the wind to the ground, leaving the branches as empty arms, full of knots.
They will crunch under the feet of a woman rich with memories of many autumns past. A woman who is awe inspiring herself, the wrinkles of her face marks of honor. Her grey hair unkempt in the fluttering air. Her hands, hands that guided and protected the hands of her children, guided and protected the hands of her grandchildren, will be busy.
Picking up the pieces.
Frigid.
Ice covered branches.
Empty.
Leaves will grow as the biting air yields to warm sunlight.
Buds will open to blossoms. Promises of new life. A continuation of what was.
Friday, November 11, 2011
Kite moving around
I got my super awesome beginners stunt kite in the mail last night and had the opportunity (time+ambition=opportunity) to fly today. My first job was to find a place to go. Now, from what I've been reading about kite flying the best place to go is somewhere flat and open, namely the beach. The winds blow in a consistent direction at the beach because of the lack of obstructions. Well, I did not feel like driving out to our faux beach (Great Salt Lake) so I decided the big open field at my old elementary school would be a great place to go. Plus, it's tucked in a neighborhood so I wouldn't cause any traffic accidents from people driving by and staring, mouth agape, at my mad kite flying skills.
On the drive over I realized that today was a school day. Crap. Went anyway because my sister is still in school and I swear she has Fridays off 20% of the time and I figured 1/5 odds aren't bad. Pulling into the parking lot I saw the sign. "Closed 11/11 for Veterans' Day". Yessssss. Got out of my car, ran out to the middle of the field and got set up.
The next 2 hours went something like this: feel for what direction the wind is blowing, set up the kite in the appropriate launching position, run out to the end of the strings, launch, curse curse curse, crash, run back to the kite and set it up again. I found myself whispering "Come on Wind, come on Wind, come on Wind" like some voodoo witch doctor. A lot. Didn't help. But I did get a great workout and my bionic foot proved to me that it can run both forward and backward quite well. Thanks Dr. Butterfield.
Apparently wind is an important aspect of my new hobby. Well, live and learn. I can say the the three times I got the kite up in the air with a big gust of wind were exhilarating and I can't wait to go again.
Bonus experience: As I was nearing the end of my kite moving around an older woman came out, walking three dogs. I was like "crap, she's going to try to converse with me. I've gotta get outa here". I started winding up my strings and one of her little fluff balls came running up to me, getting all tangled in the strings in the process, and sat in my lap for pets. Well, I pet him. And pet him. And thought, "crap, she's going to talk to me for sure now". Yep. She walked over with her other two dogs and they both managed to get tangled in my strings. She opens with "Do you know anyone who wants a dog? I can't take care of two of these dogs and winter is coming and I don't want to take them to the pound because they might get put down". Damn, straight to the point. This lady does not mess around. I told her I didn't know of anyone and I wasn't interested. She asks me if I'm in high school and I tell her I graduated. So she asks me if I'm going to a junior college and I tell her I graduated. Then I tell her my age and she's shocked. I graduated from high school almost eight years ago. I used to hate being mistaken for much younger than I am, but I'm getting to be old enough that I'm starting to appreciate it. Still can't decide if that's a good thing or not. Then she asks me if I want one of her stinking dogs again.
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