1) You mean I'll be living with 'adults' who can boss me around? 4.5 years without this and it begins again?
2) I have to close the door when I go to the bathroom? But I never had to do this while living on my own this summer :(
3) My dog can't sleep in my room with me...He sleeps within arm's reach...Not anymore?
4) I actually have to do my dishes in a timely manner?
5) My WONDERFUL bed can't come with me? SOB!!!
Yes, I am in panic mode...
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Sunday, June 19, 2011
Tidbit
There isn't much to report on tonight. My life these last few days has been remarkably dull and unpleasant. It's been a rough few but it's time I move on. Therefore, I'm focusing on just a couple things to help me face these next few days with.
My dog is adorable. While sitting on my bed with me, he tried his darnedest to stay awake as I pet him. Puppies dozing off sitting up are adorable. I also have the best dog in the world. He knows sit, shake, dance, down, off, and house. He also chases away peepers, people, and any squirrel he chances to see on campus. Yes, he's better than your dog. He's a GPS dog. Why wouldn't he be better?
This is my last full week living in Anderson. I think the root of my sadness this weekend lies in this fact. I'm stuck in a pond of bittersweet emotions I have yet to figure out.
My dog is adorable. While sitting on my bed with me, he tried his darnedest to stay awake as I pet him. Puppies dozing off sitting up are adorable. I also have the best dog in the world. He knows sit, shake, dance, down, off, and house. He also chases away peepers, people, and any squirrel he chances to see on campus. Yes, he's better than your dog. He's a GPS dog. Why wouldn't he be better?
This is my last full week living in Anderson. I think the root of my sadness this weekend lies in this fact. I'm stuck in a pond of bittersweet emotions I have yet to figure out.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
"Forever is An Awfully Long Time"
I only have two weeks left here. Two weeks left in Anderson before I turn and leave this world behind. Exactly two weeks of classes left. Less than two weeks of work. 14 days. I know I've talked about leaving Anderson and how much I couldn't wait for months now but now that it's actually almost here I couldn't help but feel sad.
I'll miss my warm yellow bedroom with the giant, bright windows letting in happy sunrise light. I'll miss driving down 8th street with my music blaring, my window rolled down, and my hand riding the wind. I'll miss Deluxe Donuts and the awesome jelly donuts they make. I'll miss little, homey Pay-less with the friendly staff. I'll miss the city smell and sights. I'll miss Scatterfield and its terrible drivers.
Even though this wasn't the best home, it was my home for over four years. It was my haunt and now I'm preparing to say goodbye in 14 quick days.
And even though 14 days isn't that long I feel more cut off from my family than ever. I'm caught between worlds. I'm no longer from Anderson, or Greenfield, or New Palestine, or Greenwood. I want to be back home right now. I want to stay in Anderson forever. I don't want things to change.
Now I've bawled my way through an entire, mopey, emo blog post. But a girl is entitled to a good cry at least once a month. It builds character and puts hair on the chest.
I'll miss my warm yellow bedroom with the giant, bright windows letting in happy sunrise light. I'll miss driving down 8th street with my music blaring, my window rolled down, and my hand riding the wind. I'll miss Deluxe Donuts and the awesome jelly donuts they make. I'll miss little, homey Pay-less with the friendly staff. I'll miss the city smell and sights. I'll miss Scatterfield and its terrible drivers.
Even though this wasn't the best home, it was my home for over four years. It was my haunt and now I'm preparing to say goodbye in 14 quick days.
And even though 14 days isn't that long I feel more cut off from my family than ever. I'm caught between worlds. I'm no longer from Anderson, or Greenfield, or New Palestine, or Greenwood. I want to be back home right now. I want to stay in Anderson forever. I don't want things to change.
Now I've bawled my way through an entire, mopey, emo blog post. But a girl is entitled to a good cry at least once a month. It builds character and puts hair on the chest.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
What Is The Price of Love (For A Dog)?
Well, if we were speaking literally here, the price of love would be a.lot.of.money....
But, of course, we aren't speaking literally. We're speaking loosely. Since getting home from my sister's house Sunday night, he's been lethargic, sad, had no appetite, and was just overall a different dog. This morning he had a runny nose and was on his second day of diarrhea. Diarrhea and a snotty nose is a bad sign when found in dogs. I panicked, called in late to work, and took him to the vet. I was terrified he maybe had parvo or the coronavirus, both dangerous things for a young pup.
All he had was an upper respiratory infection. I went ahead and placed him on antibiotics because I knew he'd be stressed these next two weeks with moving. He should be perfectly okay within a couple days. But for a while all these panicked thoughts were running through my head about how my dog could be deathly ill and maybe die. It was later that I realized that I was one of those obsessive mothers I despise who panic when their child sneezes and poops too much. Granted, those symptoms are a sign of something dangerous in a pup but he probably didn't need to see the vet for them.
But a good mom grinds her teeth, pulls out her debit card, and forks over the money to ensure her baby is healthy and happy. My baby is just different than most. He gets his big kid teeth at 6 months, feeds himself, sexually matures around 2 years of age, and rides shotgun. He's allowed to slobber all over me because it's his way of showing love. He drops everything he's doing, from chewing on his toy to eating his meal, just to follow me around the house because he loves me so much.
I can at least return the favor for that endless admiration by overreacting when he sneezes.
But, of course, we aren't speaking literally. We're speaking loosely. Since getting home from my sister's house Sunday night, he's been lethargic, sad, had no appetite, and was just overall a different dog. This morning he had a runny nose and was on his second day of diarrhea. Diarrhea and a snotty nose is a bad sign when found in dogs. I panicked, called in late to work, and took him to the vet. I was terrified he maybe had parvo or the coronavirus, both dangerous things for a young pup.
All he had was an upper respiratory infection. I went ahead and placed him on antibiotics because I knew he'd be stressed these next two weeks with moving. He should be perfectly okay within a couple days. But for a while all these panicked thoughts were running through my head about how my dog could be deathly ill and maybe die. It was later that I realized that I was one of those obsessive mothers I despise who panic when their child sneezes and poops too much. Granted, those symptoms are a sign of something dangerous in a pup but he probably didn't need to see the vet for them.
But a good mom grinds her teeth, pulls out her debit card, and forks over the money to ensure her baby is healthy and happy. My baby is just different than most. He gets his big kid teeth at 6 months, feeds himself, sexually matures around 2 years of age, and rides shotgun. He's allowed to slobber all over me because it's his way of showing love. He drops everything he's doing, from chewing on his toy to eating his meal, just to follow me around the house because he loves me so much.
I can at least return the favor for that endless admiration by overreacting when he sneezes.
Wednesday, June 8, 2011
Faux Title
I remember when being a professional meant that you were paid for something. Now you tack it on to any job or life. It reminds me of this time back in high school where my teacher asked for some background about me upon our first meeting. I told him I was a professional writer. He smiled and said, "How much do you get paid?"
That's when I learned I wasn't professional. I was just far more seasoned than most people. To be a professional (inset title) you are paid to perform those actions. Tack on something that you aren't paid for and you're just a sad person trying to sound more important and smart than you really are, just like that 16-ish child.
That's when I learned I wasn't professional. I was just far more seasoned than most people. To be a professional (inset title) you are paid to perform those actions. Tack on something that you aren't paid for and you're just a sad person trying to sound more important and smart than you really are, just like that 16-ish child.
Tuesday, June 7, 2011
Indy vs. Plunger
I tried to plunge a sink, it exploded on me, and Indy now believes the plunger is out to kill me. And, yes, I did chase him around with it but only for a few seconds.
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Religion is a Public Affair
*While I don't often reference religion in my blog it dawned on me this week that religion and God is right in the blog description. Because of that, I'm blogging about something that has recently offended me greatly and is pressing upon my character. If you don't like religious rants, stop reading now :)
A month or so ago I had a discussion with someone close to me about religion. During this discussion, I was forced to explicitly pin down my religious beliefs and tack a name to them. The problem with this was that I'm not expressly one religion. I grew up Christian and my beliefs are inherently Christian but there are other aspects as well. The biggest thing that makes me somewhat non-Christian is that I believe in many paths to God, in other words, I believe you can reach heaven and meet God through many religions.
This belief mainly stemmed from my experiences last summer living on my own with far too much time to my own devices. Up until last summer, I was steadfastly agnostic. Yeah, there was a God out there, I would say, but he was not the all powerful God. I wasn't against religion and I wasn't for it. But then I had the most amazing moment in my life and I realized there truly was a God. That's the summer I once again became religious.
And I say religious because I don't think it's necessary to pin a label on your belief system. The way I saw it, I believed in the all powerful God. I believe he lives in all of us, whether we desire it or not. I believe his son died for us in an attempt to save us from our own wicked nature. I believe that through sound decisions, constant prayer, faith and effort, we can all reach a moment where we have followed God's laws and guidelines.
But because I believe in many religions, because I believe you can be enlightened, believe in ghosts and spirits (both good and bad), and find God equally as easy in our meditations and surroundings as in a church, I am not guaranteed a place in the afterlife? To make someone feel ashamed of their beliefs, beliefs as raw and true as the fiercest love for a son and daughter or husband and wife, and push them to question those beliefs is perhaps the most morally corrupt and religiously incorrect action possible.
A month or so ago I had a discussion with someone close to me about religion. During this discussion, I was forced to explicitly pin down my religious beliefs and tack a name to them. The problem with this was that I'm not expressly one religion. I grew up Christian and my beliefs are inherently Christian but there are other aspects as well. The biggest thing that makes me somewhat non-Christian is that I believe in many paths to God, in other words, I believe you can reach heaven and meet God through many religions.
This belief mainly stemmed from my experiences last summer living on my own with far too much time to my own devices. Up until last summer, I was steadfastly agnostic. Yeah, there was a God out there, I would say, but he was not the all powerful God. I wasn't against religion and I wasn't for it. But then I had the most amazing moment in my life and I realized there truly was a God. That's the summer I once again became religious.
And I say religious because I don't think it's necessary to pin a label on your belief system. The way I saw it, I believed in the all powerful God. I believe he lives in all of us, whether we desire it or not. I believe his son died for us in an attempt to save us from our own wicked nature. I believe that through sound decisions, constant prayer, faith and effort, we can all reach a moment where we have followed God's laws and guidelines.
But because I believe in many religions, because I believe you can be enlightened, believe in ghosts and spirits (both good and bad), and find God equally as easy in our meditations and surroundings as in a church, I am not guaranteed a place in the afterlife? To make someone feel ashamed of their beliefs, beliefs as raw and true as the fiercest love for a son and daughter or husband and wife, and push them to question those beliefs is perhaps the most morally corrupt and religiously incorrect action possible.
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