About Me

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Juneau, Alaska, United States
Not too much about me to describe. I'm pretty boring, funny, but boring...

Thursday, September 30, 2010

Random things you find in couch cushions..... or not

    Ever been cleaning the house and decide it is time to vacuum the couch? ok you know what? I was gonna write about that but now I am irritated at the spelling of vacuum, and decided to rant about stupidly spelled words. Such as ROADS... What the fuck is a RO ADD? And who the hell decided it was a good idea to spell beautiful   with an E and an A? Why does kitchen have a T in it? Why are there three ways to spell to, too, two? And which is it dessert or desert? Why do they insist on making the English language so ridiculous?

    And while I'm at it for those of you who decide to give me massive amounts of shit for pronouncing "barrette" as its spelled, piss off!  It is not a burrette it is a barrette. The correct phrase is "all of A sudden" not "all of THE sudden" Stewie you're the man!

    Why are they called appartments when they are all stuck together? Why do we drive on parkways and park on driveways? Were the English just so keen on being the best that they had to tweak their language so no one but them could figure the freakin' thing out? Surely no one has that big of a superiority complex? 

    They're, there, their... four, four... eight, ate...through, threw, thru.... Light, lite... eye, I...bear, bare...flower, flour and then there are words that are spelled the same but mean different things. Such as file, pen,  nail, pound... 
    And then we add slang words. Why do we add more when we can't even figure out the ones we have? Take for example the word dude. Depending on the inflection of your voice that word can mean anything from "Omg there's a scarey ax murderer" to "Freakin sweet you got an Ipod." 
    My favorite word of all... FUCK. There is a diverse word for ya. That one can mean "having sex" or things like "you are not a nice person" or "you did that wrong" or just a basic exclamation of frustration or elation. Consider the line from Boondock Saints "Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!" If you have seen the scene (see there it is again) the word "fuck" refers to like seven different things that had happened in the room. To which the man's counterpart replies "Thank you for demonstrating the diversity of the word". 

    When did we decide that "like" was an all encompassing word. It gets used as a preposition, an article, a noun, a verb and a God knows what else. Listening to kids talk, and I have heard myself do it too (and that pisses me off), "like" comes out every other word, right next to "um". That wasn't even a word to begin with. It is the demise of our society when Valley Girl speak and Homer Simpson's "DOH" are what mark our language. 

    I suppose the rant about the couch cushions will have to be postponed for a later date, because now I am too pissed at the English language to even bother typing.

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Writing is really hard sometimes...

Trying to write another one here. I wanted to talk a bit about what I used to do when I was allowed to work and what I would like to do if I am ever released back to work.

"Look...I decided to switch the heads too so now it's Luke."

I used to work as a dog groomer. I loved that job, very rewarding. There is something therapeutic in brushing, bathing and drying animals. Sure the job has its hazards. For example, picture a little black and white toy poodle. His name is Rufus, but i call him Squishy. Every time he comes in, directly after his bath, he throws up on me. It's always hot dogs. Why can't people understand that there is a difference between people food and dog food? I digress. At that job I was bit, squished, farted on,

"Would this be fun to fly upside down?... probably like goin on a roller coaster... you go up you turn and then go like that... but you turn slowly.. oops the hatch opened..Vrrrrrooooooooommmmmm"

puked on peed on pooped on and scratched. Even though all those things occur, the job is still the best one I ever had.

"This should be in the sports closet."

Aside from the animals, the boss was great. No we didn't always agree, sure we argued a few times, but working for her proved to be a life changing thing for me. She is now my best friend. We are tightly joined and no one better fuck with either of us or they will feel the wrath of the other one, most ardently.

"Let's go...pheeew. Run or they'll get you"

I still spend Saturdays there with her volunteering my time to help answer the phone and take money from clients. But it's just not the same. I almost feel more useless when I go to "work", because she is so busy and I am just sitting there like the wart on the big toe of life.

I want to be a veterinarian, but I don';t see how that is going to happen in my current situation. The doctors aren't really encouraging either. I keep hearing words like progressive and deterioration. My hopes for a speedy recover got dashed in the second year of post surgical back pain, but now, I fight everyday to hang on to the thread of dashed hopes, so I don't fall into the abyss that is yawning so attractively at my rear. I fight it off the best I can by telling myself I am strong and that I will get through this. I keep the image of the Vet that I met in Tufts university outside Boston, Mass.

We stood outside the OR of the vet hospital and our tour guide perked up as a man came around the corner. My eye immediately fell to the silver legs that attached to him just above the elbow. He introduced himself as a Doctor and I almost started to cry. The hope rushed so hard into me that my breath caught in my chest. If he can do it with only one leg, then fuckin' A you bet your ass I can do it with two shitty ones and a cane.

"What? What? Can you tell me a story huh huh? Come on I don't have all day. Tell me a story. You gotta go potty? He usually wags. when I come back and I wait for him to bark, or do his thing, I will look at that Halloween magazine we found in our mail today, cuz I don't know what's in that. Didn't we plan on having a Halloween party thing? Oooh sweet a box of bones. To hold soda so your hands don't freeze off we can  buy these things.. Oh look goodie bags. Hehehe thats awesome little teeth. Oh cool flexible skeletons to throw at the wall and watch them fall... only 8 cents. I was also thinking we could get a bag of bones for the decorations. Don't worry I don't let him go til I wipe his feet. I smell poop."

Every time i get down about my situation I think of that doctor and my bitterness and sorrow melt into...

"So you just have a few more errors to fix right?"

Into hope. Damn it! I think this will be the end of this blog. I have to go look at Halloween decorations and make a snack and play a board game and watch a movie and tuck him in and then... then if I have anything left, I will tackle my math homework.

A attempt to catch up....

I figure I am a week behind on this and should probably write a second blog. Oh joy. Rapture. Given that I am not feeling overly wordy at the moment I decided to personify a bit and write something from Ajax...

    I was at the store with my owner today and a little girl came running up to me to pet me. My owner told her no because I am working. The little girl got mad and the lady with the child gave my owner a dirty look and called her a name.
    I wish that people had more knowledge of appropriate action regarding working animals. I mean you should never run up to a strange dog anyway or try to pet one without asking its owner first. Doing that can get you bit. But it is very hard on us working dogs when they run at us or even just talk to us when we are working.
   Another example is when we are walking in the store together and people make tongue clicking noises at me or smooch sounds. That is very distracting to me even though they are not touching me.
   When I am working my owner needs me for balance and support, if I get distracted she could fall. I don't have to say how bad that would be. Even people that know me and know the correct approach, still distract me when I am working. It's almost like they think since they know me and my owner its ok for them to pet and talk to me whenever they like. 
   We ran into one of my owner's friends at the store and he didn't ask to touch me just bent down and started patting me and talking to me. My owner had me on a balance command and when he started to pet me I tried to back up so he couldn't because I am not supposed to. Unfortunately in doing so I caused my owner to lose her balance and she almost fell down.
   A good way for EVERYONE to think of it is, if you aren't holding my leash leave me be. Also, only my owner and I know when I am on a command. All it takes is a simple question, "May I pet your service animal?" That gives my owner the opportunity to say yes or no depending on weather I am on a command at that time. This, will prevent my owner from potential injury, and me from getting in trouble for succumbing to proposed lovies.

    And now back to my owner for some final thoughts...

    Final thoughts he says. Hmmm. Having a service dog is rewarding and challenging. I feel bad when I have to tell people they can't touch Ajax. I mean look at him everyone wants to touch him and give him treats and things. Not to mention the heinous gas if his diet is altered even a little bit. I'm not kidding here, he's rank! I mean you can even hear them from a different room sometimes. And screw ceiling fans by the way. They only perpetuate the cycle. 

My first blog is against my religion

Blogs are a literary voyeurs wet dream. I swore to God and everything I hold dear to NEVER write a blog. I feel like blogs are personal publicity stunts where we become our own paparazzi. I am pretty sure that is one aspect of celebrities that none of us envy and yet we have no problem putting our innermost thoughts and feelings on display for Jo Blow to get his rocks of with. I prefer to share those feelings and events with my friends. Don't get me wrong, if you like that kind of sharing, be my guest.

I want to see the whites of the eyes when people share their joys and pains with me. Nothing is more frustrating that reading on Facebook (or someother public domain) that one of my best friends spent the night crying. It denies me, as a friend, the ability to really share the emotion with them and the opportunity to comfort them. That sharing is a pivotal part of being friends.

I read an article in USA Today on my way home from a recent trip. The title jumped at me from the page: Thanks for Over-sharing? The article talked about how experts are saying that social eavesdropping may not be that bad after all.  I am under the impression that the reason for some of our feelings of entitlement with regard to other peoples lives is due to the fact that our "privacy" is portable. People on cell phones in public talking like they are in their living rooms. Knowing all these personal details of strangers leads way to feeling like we have the right to know. The right to know can lead to things like a reporter trying to get a picture up Katy Perry's skirt, which lead to her fiancĂ©e smashing his face.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think it is all bad. Blogs on issues like pet health or politics or automotive problems definitely serve their purpose. The blogs I am referencing here are the ones detailing peoples day to day living down to what they ate, complete with pictures and what sexual position they like the best. I am not saying I have never done this. I post on my Facebook lots of things like that. The difference for me is that everyone on my friends list i know personally. I block my profile from everyone but my actual friends. This makes it more like my Christmas news letter than a desperate attempt to be noticed by everyone.

All this technology sharing feels like hiding in public. Throwing yourself out there but still having the protection of no one really knowing you or being able to really be close to you. So enjoy your close but still at arm distance blogging friendship and the anonymity it provides. Me personally, I don't care what random Suzie had for dinner, or who unknown Jeff is boning, tell me to my face how my friends are doing. Bring back the phone call instead of the text, or God forbid the face to face meeting. Stop denying me hugs!