I passed my Motorcycle permit test this morning and have scooter class tomorrow. It's excellent timing because...
Stella is here!!!
I just got the call from Steve at True Imports and I will be able to pick her up on Saturday! He says she is beautiful & I cannot wait!
Bet you can't guess what I will be doing this weekend!
I'm going to be screaming like Brando until Saturday at 10am.
Thursday, May 22, 2008
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Anticipation
Me: If my new roommate has a Harley and we go riding together, am I going to look like a total lamewad on my scooter?
Friend: I don't know if "lamewad" applies so much as "Chach"
Me: What if I ride up on a motorcycle gang? Do you think they would let me join, or will I have to form my own scooter gang of hoodlums and debauchery?
Friend: I don't know if the words "Scooter" and "Debauchery" should ever be in the same sentence. Ever.
Me: Well, not until now, anyway. I'm going to single-handedly make scooters hardcore.
Friend: How is that possible? You are so not hardcore.
Me: That hurts, man. I am wicked-crazy hardcore. I mean, just last night, I totally threw caution to the wind and drank a regular Coke instead of a Diet Coke. You scared?
Friend: Trembling. How are you not in prison?
Me: I have a lot of practice running from the law. Outlaw for Life. Oooooh, I am totally putting that on the back of my Gang's leather jackets.
Friend: Do Scooter riders wear leather?
Me: Good Point. What about on the back of a windbreaker?
Friend: Or a cardigan!
Me: I could crotchet our outfits!
Friend: You are such a loser.
Me: You love it.
Friend: I don't know if "lamewad" applies so much as "Chach"
Me: What if I ride up on a motorcycle gang? Do you think they would let me join, or will I have to form my own scooter gang of hoodlums and debauchery?
Friend: I don't know if the words "Scooter" and "Debauchery" should ever be in the same sentence. Ever.
Me: Well, not until now, anyway. I'm going to single-handedly make scooters hardcore.
Friend: How is that possible? You are so not hardcore.
Me: That hurts, man. I am wicked-crazy hardcore. I mean, just last night, I totally threw caution to the wind and drank a regular Coke instead of a Diet Coke. You scared?
Friend: Trembling. How are you not in prison?
Me: I have a lot of practice running from the law. Outlaw for Life. Oooooh, I am totally putting that on the back of my Gang's leather jackets.
Friend: Do Scooter riders wear leather?
Me: Good Point. What about on the back of a windbreaker?
Friend: Or a cardigan!
Me: I could crotchet our outfits!
Friend: You are such a loser.
Me: You love it.
Thursday, May 15, 2008
Sadie - The details
Sadie was the kind of dog that could make you smile whether you wanted to or not. She had a ton of energy and would climb all over you, licking any bit of exposed skin that she could find. She was the happiest dog you could ever meet. She didn’t have a mean bone in her whole body.
Sadie wasn’t conventionally beautiful. She had a smooshy pug face and her tounge would hang out as if it didn’t fit in her mouth. Thing is, you didn’t have to look at her long to fall in love.
She was content when she could lay on my mother’s lap with one of her toys stuffed into her little mouth. She would look up with her big ole eyes and melt your heart in a way that no other dog could ever do.
On Monday, May 12, 2008 my Mother took Sadie in to have a surgery that was supposed to open up her air passages to make it easier for Sadie to breathe. This sort of surgery is fairly standard for pugs, and my Mother chose a specialist in her area.
On Tuesday, my Mother took the day off work to pick up her dog. When she arrived, Sadie was still really “out of it” and didn’t even act excited to see my Mother, which is highly out of character. The vet assured my mother that Sadie’s condition was normal and that she may act strange for a few days as she recovered. Taking their instruction, my Mom returned home with her dog and kept vigilant watch over her best friend.
Sadie continued to be extremely lethargic and was vomiting often. Concerned, my Mother called the Vet Clinic several times (once at 3:00 in the morning) expressing extreme concern for her dog’s condition. Tuesday night, my mother barely slept, worried that there was something wrong. The vet continued to encourage my mother to hang tight – she would pull through. They said vomiting was normal and that she should not worry about Sadie’s extreme lethargy. They told her that all of it was normal recovery for the procedure.
Leaving Sadie for the FIRST TIME since picking her up from surgery, my Mother went to a meeting at her place of employment. She was gone for 2 hours. Upon return, Sadie was dead.
My mother is devastated. She feels responsible as though if she had not gone to work, Sadie would still be alive. She feels like if she would have trusted her intuition and FORCED the clinic to look at her regardless of what they said, Sadie would still be alive. She feels like if she had never taken Sadie to get the surgery, she would still be alive. She feels like she paid $2,500 for a vet to kill her dog.
I know that none of this is my Mother’s fault, but she is understandably feeling responsible. I told her that Sadie was lucky to have her as a doggie mom and that she did everything she could do. It makes me sick that she made so many concerned calls to a clinic that ignored her pleas. If they would have told her even one time to bring Sadie in, my Mother would have been there in a second.
I blame the clinic and I am fucking furious. I will be damned if they take my Mother’s money after being so negligent. People pay good money for specialists in order to rely on their expertise. These people dropped the ball and I am so angry…and sad. My mother doesn’t deserve this. Sadie didn’t deserve this. Hell, Mojo doesn’t deserve this either ( I brought him over to keep my Mom company last night and we both bawled as he looked for Sadie).
She was a good dog. I’m going to miss her.
Sadie wasn’t conventionally beautiful. She had a smooshy pug face and her tounge would hang out as if it didn’t fit in her mouth. Thing is, you didn’t have to look at her long to fall in love.
She was content when she could lay on my mother’s lap with one of her toys stuffed into her little mouth. She would look up with her big ole eyes and melt your heart in a way that no other dog could ever do.
On Monday, May 12, 2008 my Mother took Sadie in to have a surgery that was supposed to open up her air passages to make it easier for Sadie to breathe. This sort of surgery is fairly standard for pugs, and my Mother chose a specialist in her area.
On Tuesday, my Mother took the day off work to pick up her dog. When she arrived, Sadie was still really “out of it” and didn’t even act excited to see my Mother, which is highly out of character. The vet assured my mother that Sadie’s condition was normal and that she may act strange for a few days as she recovered. Taking their instruction, my Mom returned home with her dog and kept vigilant watch over her best friend.
Sadie continued to be extremely lethargic and was vomiting often. Concerned, my Mother called the Vet Clinic several times (once at 3:00 in the morning) expressing extreme concern for her dog’s condition. Tuesday night, my mother barely slept, worried that there was something wrong. The vet continued to encourage my mother to hang tight – she would pull through. They said vomiting was normal and that she should not worry about Sadie’s extreme lethargy. They told her that all of it was normal recovery for the procedure.
Leaving Sadie for the FIRST TIME since picking her up from surgery, my Mother went to a meeting at her place of employment. She was gone for 2 hours. Upon return, Sadie was dead.
My mother is devastated. She feels responsible as though if she had not gone to work, Sadie would still be alive. She feels like if she would have trusted her intuition and FORCED the clinic to look at her regardless of what they said, Sadie would still be alive. She feels like if she had never taken Sadie to get the surgery, she would still be alive. She feels like she paid $2,500 for a vet to kill her dog.
I know that none of this is my Mother’s fault, but she is understandably feeling responsible. I told her that Sadie was lucky to have her as a doggie mom and that she did everything she could do. It makes me sick that she made so many concerned calls to a clinic that ignored her pleas. If they would have told her even one time to bring Sadie in, my Mother would have been there in a second.
I blame the clinic and I am fucking furious. I will be damned if they take my Mother’s money after being so negligent. People pay good money for specialists in order to rely on their expertise. These people dropped the ball and I am so angry…and sad. My mother doesn’t deserve this. Sadie didn’t deserve this. Hell, Mojo doesn’t deserve this either ( I brought him over to keep my Mom company last night and we both bawled as he looked for Sadie).
She was a good dog. I’m going to miss her.
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
R.I.P Sadie
My Mother's dog passed away last night. She was the happiest, sweetest dog I have ever met and she was Mojo's best friend in the whole world.
For those of you who believe in prayer - my Mom could use some right now. Sadie was like a child to her and her loss has been really hard. I will update later - but for now, I just hope that Sadie is snorting around heaven, licking everyone's face and making people smile.
On a related note: Fuck You 2008.
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
Stella Blue
I don't buy much for myself, in general. This birthday, however, is turning out to be a rough one. Between the breakup, my job and loneliness, I have let myself turn into a sad little hermit. In order to turn things around, I have committed to a new attitude and a fresh perspective.
To me, fresh perspective is about a new look. To facilitate my new look, I am getting my hair done tomorrow & plan to have a manicure by the end of the week. More importantly, today, I put a down payment on a sizeable gift to myself.
Meet Stella Blue (tell me I'm not the only Dead Head), isn't she beautiful?
I should get her by the end of the month! I have also enrolled in motorcycle classes to get my Class M licence. Keeping busy will have never been so fun!
To me, fresh perspective is about a new look. To facilitate my new look, I am getting my hair done tomorrow & plan to have a manicure by the end of the week. More importantly, today, I put a down payment on a sizeable gift to myself.
Meet Stella Blue (tell me I'm not the only Dead Head), isn't she beautiful?
I should get her by the end of the month! I have also enrolled in motorcycle classes to get my Class M licence. Keeping busy will have never been so fun!
Friday, May 9, 2008
Ask the Internet - Birthday Ideas
So, my birthday is coming up next Saturday, May 17th. I will be 27. Ack. It's the official entry into my LATE TWENTIES and I am terrified. However, I am determined to enjoy my day and avoid feeling sorry for myself at all costs. The problem is that I have waited until a week before my birthday to actually attempt to plan anything. So what's a girl to do? Is it acceptable to throw myself a party at a bar? What do you guys do for your birthday?
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Why is it called a Meme?
I have been holding off on responding to my Meme tags from both Aunt Becky and Paisana (PS - Thanks for hangin' last night. It was fun). Luckily, they tagged me with the same meme, so now I can kill two birds with one stone.
Here are the rules:
1. Link back to the person who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on your blog.
3. Share six unimportant things about yourself (things/habits/quirks).
4. Name some of your favorite blogs.
5. Send an email/comment on their blog letting them know they have been tagged.
1. I don't like chocolate. It doesn't make me sick or anything, but I just prefer not to eat it. The taste doesn't do much for me unless it is in the form of white chocolate covered pretzels or a mocha latte - and even then - I could care less. Brownies repulse me though. The smell makes me cringe.
2. I hate checking my voicemail. When I get to work and the red voicemail light is lit on my phone, I become immediately agitated. This carries over to my cell phone as well. I go weeks without checking my messages because they are usually boring.
3. I can't type. I mean, I have fingers and stuff, but I never bothered to learn how to do it correctly. I think the feminist in me decided early on that typing was for secretaries (where did I get that idea?), so I refused to learn. I was going to be successful and have my minions type for me. I now realize that I am retarted. I have graduated from the hunt and peck method, but I still only use 3 fingers on each hand when I type. It's actually kind of embarrassing.
4. I am physically incapable of sitting through a meeting without doodling all over my notebook. I draw people, I write my name, anything to keep me from sitting and listening like a normal person. It's a terrible habit. I also only use sharpies (the thin point) or mechanical pencils at work. I hate pens. God, I'm weird.
5. I actually like Richard Simmons. When I see him on television, my heart is filled with glee. I consider his enthusiasm to be contagious and I admire his optimistic spirit. The fact that he is so passionate about what he does for others is inspiring to me, even if he is completely crazy.
6. I hate the smell of cigarettes. This is only notable because I was a die-hard smoker until October 2007. I have turned into a huge asshole about it and I am SOOO happy that bars and restaurants in Chicago do not have smoking sections anymore.
I am supposed to tag people, but I am going to take a cue from Aunt Becky and invite anyone reading this to share an unimportant quirk about themselves in the comments section.
Happy Thursday Bitches!
Here are the rules:
1. Link back to the person who tagged you.
2. Post these rules on your blog.
3. Share six unimportant things about yourself (things/habits/quirks).
4. Name some of your favorite blogs.
5. Send an email/comment on their blog letting them know they have been tagged.
1. I don't like chocolate. It doesn't make me sick or anything, but I just prefer not to eat it. The taste doesn't do much for me unless it is in the form of white chocolate covered pretzels or a mocha latte - and even then - I could care less. Brownies repulse me though. The smell makes me cringe.
2. I hate checking my voicemail. When I get to work and the red voicemail light is lit on my phone, I become immediately agitated. This carries over to my cell phone as well. I go weeks without checking my messages because they are usually boring.
3. I can't type. I mean, I have fingers and stuff, but I never bothered to learn how to do it correctly. I think the feminist in me decided early on that typing was for secretaries (where did I get that idea?), so I refused to learn. I was going to be successful and have my minions type for me. I now realize that I am retarted. I have graduated from the hunt and peck method, but I still only use 3 fingers on each hand when I type. It's actually kind of embarrassing.
4. I am physically incapable of sitting through a meeting without doodling all over my notebook. I draw people, I write my name, anything to keep me from sitting and listening like a normal person. It's a terrible habit. I also only use sharpies (the thin point) or mechanical pencils at work. I hate pens. God, I'm weird.
5. I actually like Richard Simmons. When I see him on television, my heart is filled with glee. I consider his enthusiasm to be contagious and I admire his optimistic spirit. The fact that he is so passionate about what he does for others is inspiring to me, even if he is completely crazy.
6. I hate the smell of cigarettes. This is only notable because I was a die-hard smoker until October 2007. I have turned into a huge asshole about it and I am SOOO happy that bars and restaurants in Chicago do not have smoking sections anymore.
I am supposed to tag people, but I am going to take a cue from Aunt Becky and invite anyone reading this to share an unimportant quirk about themselves in the comments section.
Happy Thursday Bitches!
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