Thursday thirteen, the timely edition

Dear Diary,

13. Okay, it's ridiculous, but Friday evening I actually sat out in the cool, still dusk, next to the pond himself built for us (trickling water, etc) and started typing this week's entry on my iPad.

Later that week, Sweet Baboo and I figured out how to play scrabble by networking our iPads.Turns out, Scrabble is way more fun when you aren't picking the tiles up after they fall off the holder.

12. I had a serious attack of lazies at work last week. I think it started when I read about the toddler being thrown out the upper floor window by her mother during a police raid and suffering irreparable brain damage. There's not a lot of things that freak me out these days, but oh yes, that one did it.
Later that week, I interviewed a 11-year-old boy who wants to die.
Yep, time for a day off.

You would not believe how long it took to get this shot.

11. My dog is just, well, incredibly spastic at times. That helps too, especially since she's spastic over me. I love her big old face. Mind you, I do not like dogs. But I like this one.

 10. I went for a nice short trail run Thursday, mostly an hike. My back is still a little tweaked. My legs still have bricks tied to them. I did a shorter run Saturday, and then Tuesday, Baboo and I did a short (4.3 mile) run together.

 9. I did the "women in training" saturday. Daughter has completely checked out and stopped working out. Then wanted to know if I would take her to buy her sports clothing, and I said that this is for, you know, for people who do sports. Sitting around on the internet at the library all day is not a sport.

8. Sunday, I continued collecting groupons for things to do while himself is gone during the month of July. I think it's safe to say, I will be occupied. Bored and lonely a bit, but occupied. Then Sweet Baboo informed me that he won't be going in July after all. Yay! And I get to keep all the groupons. they're all for girlie things, like facials, pedicures, and yoga. But the best thing is that himself and I will get to start our salsa dancing lessons.

7. Today, I go in to nail down the exact rotations that I'll be doing for my internship at the VA. More on this later.

6. Blogger now has a way to email your entries into blogger. I'm playing with it. Ostensibly, you can do it with images as well.

You can just feel the health.

5. I ate a bag of fritos. A big bag. With some cheap, mayonnaise-based spinach dip that I'm sure somebody, somewhere, thinks is healthy because of the spinach (not me, I have no illusions). I think it's time I got back in touch with my weight watcher side. I also ate four pieces of provolone cheese the other day. I melted it in a pan, browned it a little, and then peeled it back up. When you do that it gets crispy and tastes a bit like bacon. Then you make a sandwich with mayonnaise. Would you like more tips on how to be the world's fattest vegetarian? I have a hundred of them.

4. After weeks of fiddling with crappy iPad blog editors, i experimented with Dragon, which I'm going to use to transcribe notes. Its a bit unweildy for casual writing just now. 
Then I was told about Blogsy by Melissa. I'm still learning it. I'm very stubborn about reading directions when it comes to computer stuff. Stubborn and grandiose. All other things, I'll read the instructions. Not so with computer stuff. Then when I can't intuit it, I'm annoyed.

3. It turns out that when you are waiting out the window during which the repair people are supposed to arrive, you have plenty of time to work on your blog.

Beautiful xericscape.

2. We haven't had a working cooler so far this season. As we head into June, and start inhaling the smoke drifting over from Arizona (thanks for that, by the way,) I decided to have someone come out. I hate this cooler. It requires far more maintenance than an air conditioner, and it guzzles water, which we do not need to waste in the desert. I can't wait to get rid of it.

I also can't wait to get rid of all this grass. It's ridiculous. Who grows grass in the desert? I'm taking suggestions on how to dispose of it quickly so that I can replace it with xerics this year. I must do this THIS YEAR. I do not want to spend another summer fucking with sprinkler systems and oh yes, she swore.. because when it comes to sprinkler systems, I can definitely be very unladylike.
The problem is that the grass is 30 years old and has a thick, deep thatch. I shudder to think that I will have to dig it all out.
Maybe there's a Groupon for that.

1. This Saturday I am doing a sprint triathlon down in Ft. Sumner, New Mexico. Oh, my, well there are just so many reasons that this will go badly that I can't even count, but here are a few:

• I haven't been on a bike more than three times in the past year.
• My wetsuit is new and has never been worn.
• I have swum, let's see, once in the past year.
• It's going to be hot, hot, hot.
• I'm somewhat disinclined to ride a bike, anyway.

Oh, well. I'll do little race report after I'm done.
...

Sorry I'm late - Thursday 13.

Dear Diary,

13.  One of the benefits of working with kids is picking up all the clever vernacular.  This week I learned:

maddogging (v).  The act of posturing another individual, or staring at them in a threatening manner, thereby provoking a fight. 

12.  Wednesday morning I was awakened by coyotes doing what many locals euphemistically refer to as "singing".  I call it "a crap-load of a huge racket".  It's pretty distinctive. Sadie put out a couple of feeble "woofs" and then shut up.  I've noticed that is the norm around here.  When coyotes sound off, all the neighborhood dogs suddenly get a big case of STFU.  It's like their parents said when they were pups, don't you be maddogging those coyotes.  They may be small but they'll kick your ass.  So be quiet. 

In any case, I'm pretty sure this is when Sadie quietly snuck into the back of the house out of nervousness. 

11.  So, Wednesday morning after my run I sat down and took Sadie's furry face in my hands.

Sadie, look at me.  No, at me.  Loo-LOOK AT ME.  There.  Now, you need to know there is a clear division of labor in this house.  The cats live in the back; you live in the front.  The cats are responsible for making warm lumps on the bed at night that we have to bend our legs around to sleep, and eating cat food.  You are responsible for acting insanely happy when we show up and giving us soulful looks. 


Do you understand what I am saying?  You are not to eat the cat food or sneak into the back of the house at night.  


Are we clear on this?

*wag* *wag*

Good.

10.  I was so stressed out and angry at my university that I taught them a lesson: I got my hair done.  That'll show them.

9.  This is my new blog tool.
In case you're wondering, yes, you have probably gotten Mary Kay holiday makeup collections that were bigger.  But it's purple, and that's all that matters.

I took this picture in Oklahoma, where everything is Sienna.

8. This fall Mom in law is coming in November.
Dad in law is coming in December.  You know what that means, don't you?

It means...


wait for it....


wait for it...


I have to clean house. 


Crap.


7.  Next week I start tapering.  40 miles.  The following week, 30 miles.  Then 20 miles.  And so on.  The hardest part, I think, will be adjusting my eating so that I don't gain a million pounds during this time. 

6.  I'm blonde again.  Not blond.  Blonde.  With an e.  It's classier.

5.  I started taking my clothes to a local tailor to have them taken in.  The lady was pinning me, and didn't speak very good English, but she said, "How you get so small?"

I run, I said.  And I was eating less.

"how many runs you do?"

She might be asking, literally, how many, but I bet it's how much.

So I told her.

"I run. 80 to 100 kilometers in a week," I said.

blink.  Blink.

Then she patted her stomach.  "Maybe I just hang onto this."

It's all about choices.  You go, girl.

4.  Next week the Bitches of Fashion are taking me shopping.  In case you don't know who that is, their blog is here.  I saved up my coffee money, and they are taking me out and picking things out for me.

I'm a bit nervous.  I'm not really a fashionista.  I trend more towards classic stuff that doesn't really stand out much. I work with people who are mentally ill, after all.  They don't need too many distractions.  It's easier to get dressed in the morning when your stuff is not at all trendy, because it never looks out of date.

3. On our trip to Oklahoma I was privileged to be able to see the Leaning tower of Brittany, Texas

and the largest cross in the united states.  Maybe the world.  

I wanted to get a picture of myself standing in front of it, looking pious, but 

that involved getting out of the car, and we were pretty desperate to get

back to Albuquerque and 18% humidity.

For scale, that is a warehouse to the right, and it's several hundred yards in front of the cross.  

2. Tuesday, Wednesday and Thursday I was supposed to put in 22 miles.  By Wednesday night, I'd gotten in 11.  Then I got my hair done.  That left another 11 to get in today.  Not sure how I'm going to pull that off, but I'll try.

1. Last night, the wind howled all night, and kept me up.  I slept in.  Graduate school is so stressful that when I got home from work tonight I wanted to curl up in a ball under the blankets.  But I can't do that.  I'm going to at least get dressed to go out to run, and take a headlamp with me.  I'm crossing my fingers for a nice, long, worry run.
I terminated with my therapist last week.  Maybe I should have waited.

...

Question of the Day.

Yesterday I got a call from Sweet Baboo at about 4:15 in the afternoon.

"Do you know where Jake is?"

Jake?  You mean a$$hole dog?  Because if he's calling me in the middle of the afternoon, from home, asking where he is, then today he's a$$hole dog and the dollar signs, folks, are there for a reason, not just to clean up my language.

No.  I don't know where Jake is.
But I do no one thing: There was a reason I didn't want any more kids.  And it had a lot to do with phone calls in the middle of the day.

As Sweet Baboo was standing there talking to me, he saw Jake come back over the wall, from the open space, where he'd escaped to.  Mind you, when I say open space, we're talking about the boundary between Cibola Wilderness and the city of Albuquerque.  At this point, I don't think Asshole dog will be around much longer, because there are hungry spring bears waking up, hungry enough to probably catch even a fast Blue-heeler, shepherd mix.

But, so.  I take my status as a parent very seriously.  And, we're out of money until the next pay day, I guess...so I had to tie him up.  I hate that.  My neighbors hate it, too, because he's barking continuously.  He has a long tie, access to water and shelter and shade, but of course he's Jake the A$$hole dog, so he wants to be able to roam, even though he has 1/3 of an acre with cool shade, warm dry sunny spots, and a large running water source.

It also occurs to me, right now, that there was another reason I didn't want kids.  It had something do with the sucking sound I heard every payday.  Kids, though, grow up and become people you like to talk to.  What does a dog become?  A larger, noisier expensive child who never grows up?

Chloe, for the record, is relatively well-behaved, stays in the yard, entertains herself, and doesn't cause trouble.  She will run with me.  Jake will not run without Chloe, and I can't run them both at the same time.   She does not tear up drip lines just because she can.  So.  Do I untie Jake so my neighbors can get some peace and the bears can have breakfast, or do I leave him tied up so that he's safe and my neighbors hate me?

That is the Q.O.D.

We're going to have to put an underground, electric fence on our credit card.  If this doesn't work, Jake is either Smokey's breakfast or he goes back to the pound, for a third time (He'd been surrendered twice when we got him.)

...

Cram for Ironman, Week 2ish.

Weight: 165.2.  I've lost 12.8 pounds so far since January.  That's 12.8 pounds of non-working tissue that I won't have to haul up and down the hills at St. George.  Two of my favorite pants don't fit any more.  I mean, they slid halfway down my hips and don't have belt loops.

Stress is like, the best diet EVAR.

What stress, you might ask?  Well, first, last week was a bit of a derailment.  The pollen count soared, and my energy level and ability to breathe plummeted. I finally settled on a cocktail of 12-hour sudafed during the day and Nyquil at night just to be able to sit at my desk at work. I couldn't do much during the week; I even had to skip my spin class.

But, by Saturday, I was able to do my hilly laps around the house, finishing up about 10 miles or so.  Now, on Sunday, I had planned to do cycling laps near my house that involved ascending and descending 1000 feet of 5 miles repeatedly.  When I started to head out, Jake came running after me.  He's the heeler mix that should have been behind the masonry wall that surrounds my house.  and yet, here he was.  I put him back in the yard, and when I turned around, he was out again.  I had no idea how he's getting out, but my ride was shelved since I was home alone.  I used the time to write papers.


Monday morning I did not get to run because I drove instead to pick up oldest son, (ex-soldier turned college student) who was wrangled into dog-sitting while we worked.  (pictured, right, looking very dapper)  Then Monday night, he and Sweet Baboo put up a barrier at the spot where Jake, whose new name is Cash, or A$$hole dog, depending on my mood, was going over the wall.  

In doing so, the cable/internet was accidentally cut. So, we don't have cable, or internet for now.   And yes, we will have to pay the cost of repairing the line if we want cable restored from this company.

Tuesday morning, I got a nice little run in, and then showered and headed to work.  Before lunch, my neighbor called me to tell me that he was out, running around the neighborhood again.  Another neighbor tried to take care of him while I was still at work, but Cash, aka A$$hole dog, jumped his wall, too.  So, thanks to Cash, aka a$$hole dog, I now know more of my neighbors, since they've been bringing him back to us all week.  But I'm afraid of wearing out my welcome.

So, I gave up my lunch hour to go across town and put him in a storage shed DON'T LOOK AT ME IN THAT TONE OF VOICE, HE HAD WATER AND IT WAS COOL OUT until Sweet Baboo got home.

Cash, aka a$$hole dog, has just earned himself a 10 x 10 x 6 foot high chain link kennel parked on cement, because between my car break-in in January, the house robber in February, the bill for the IRS, the dog adoption fees and obedience classes, we are not in any position to fence our entire yard.  In fact, he has to live in the garage during the day until the next payday in order for us to get the kennel.

We really didn't expect this glitch.  We figured our huge yard, with warm sunny spots, cool shady spots, grass, gravel, a large pond with clean running water, would be a happy doggie place.  Not so much with this one.  There are those who have tried to console me by telling me he'll "outgrow" it.  All I can imagine is him getting bigger and better at going over walls.

So with a severed cable and internet line, I'm writing this from a local bookstore and hotspot.  Did you know that there are at least six magazines dedicated to tattoos?  There are.  There is an endcap right in front of me with six different magazines dedicated to tattoos.

I do not like dogs today.

...

The 10 commandants, according to Jake and Chloe.

Everything must be smelled.  There are no exceptions.

Everything is to be tasted and chewed, at least once.

Even if there is lots of room, the best place to wrestle is on mom's feet.  This is not a metaphor: Right. On. Top.  (These are 40+ pound dogs, remember.)

When the owners have guests, the best way to stay out of trouble is to pull out whatever is in the bathroom trash can and take it out into the living room.  And chew on it.

If you can find a way to get out of the yard, you should.

If your owner runs toward you, yelling and waving their arms, that means it's time to play tag.

If it is within reach, you may eat it.

Owners like to play games with you.  They'll do it by filling in your holes.  You should dig them out as soon as possible to continue the game.

The also like to put plants in the ground for you to pull out, so make sure you do that.

The best, really best chew toys are those little black hoses that go through gravel in the garden.  I think they're called "drip lines".

...