Yesterday I found myself poring through the blog I kept when Paco went through bilateral tplo surgery.
I rarely look at the blog except for when someone has canine surgery questions, and the posts I forward are pretty routine ("Here's how you can make a sling yourself at home...") so I never go back and actually ready anything. But the question posed yesterday forced me to actually search through what I'd written for one small sentence, and I came across this:
"So one of the more unpleasant side effects of the surgery is that Paco now has 'cankles'. His hocks and ankles are so swollen with fluid that there's almost no distinction where one part ends and the other begins. I kinda want to get him some control pantyhose.
"Just look at the shame.
"The only way to relieve the problem is to massage them by by hand frequently in an effort to redistribute the liquid. It feels a little strange to rub the squishy, hairless parts of my dog, but it also feels cool, like petting a Sphynx or Xoloixcuintle [sic].
"Massaging him this morning I remembered that, ironically, when Paco was a puppy, I used to tell people he was an Ixcuintle [sic]. It wasn't a far stretch, since he was missing a great deal of hair due to mange (mostly on his head in an awesome imitation of male pattern baldness). I started the lie one day after a five year old girl recoiled in fear after I informed her she was petting a 'pit bull'. I mean, how can you be scared of a 5 lb puppy, regardless of what it is? But she was.
"From that day forward, for several months, we lived the lie. At the time I figured it was either my puppy's socialization or the truth, since it isn't easy for folks to give pit bulls a break (or even a chance, most of the time).
"Eventually, though, I realized there was no shame in Paco being what he was. He couldn't help it more than I can help being Mexican-Irish. We turned a corner, decided to turn our handicap into our strength, and we haven't looked back (or lied) since."
It's funny how words can bring you back to the time, place, and head space you were at when you wrote it, which in turn catapults you even further back as you were meditating and writing about events even years before that. And then to see yourself clearly in those two previous inceptions, armed with the knowledge you have now... what would they think of the present you? And would they be shocked to know you actually now have an itzcuintle?
In a random turn of events, I had an argument a few months back with a random woman on the BART platform who swore up and down that Xochitl was a pit bull. I just laughed.
Wednesday, October 28, 2009
Monday, October 26, 2009
Best Birthday Ever
Normally I have an every-other-year-birthday thing going, meaning that one year I'll have an awesome day, everything will go right, I'll make a party and all of my friends will come, and then the next year everything goes wrong and I end up crying. It's been consistent since I turned 20 so I don't mess with it, just accept it and plan accordingly. This year was an off year, so I opted to skip town.
After a full day of research, we decided our destination would be Aaron's parents' house in Enumclaw, Washington. The whole reason we got Xochitl was so that she could be "the travel dog" (ie, small enough to ride in the cabin on a plane) and the dream was to take her up to the farm at some point and let her run free in the fields but she had yet to experience a flight (minus her homecoming trip).
In retrospect a million things could have gone wrong, but the entire travel experience just went perfectly. Nobody gave Xdog a second glance even though she was technically over the wight limit and the carrier didn't meet specs, no flights were delayed even though weather on both ends was sketchy, and we even landed early coming back.
Living in the Bay Area I tend to forget we have seasons, other than that people generally change the color of the clothes they wear, but up north it's most definitely fall. The trees were striking shades of gold, green, and red, and the air was crisp and moist (and occasionally rainy... but remarkably only so when we already wanted to stay in).
We made a trip into Seattle, saw old friends and met new ones, explored places neither of us had been, as well as Aaron taking me places from his youth. We got enough rest and plenty of exercise. Basically, it was pretty much the most perfect vacation ever.
Without further ado, the pictures...
My birthday present from Aaron's parents, a pink bb gun and targets to go along with it.
Shavi!
The view from Shavi's window
Xdog experiences her first fall
We took the ferry to Whidby Island, had the most amazing day with new friends, their dogs, the beach, and golf course beers and somehow this is the only picture I have to prove we were ever there. Documentation fail.
My birthday hike
And finally, the crocheted tequila bottle cover. Amazing.
After a full day of research, we decided our destination would be Aaron's parents' house in Enumclaw, Washington. The whole reason we got Xochitl was so that she could be "the travel dog" (ie, small enough to ride in the cabin on a plane) and the dream was to take her up to the farm at some point and let her run free in the fields but she had yet to experience a flight (minus her homecoming trip).
In retrospect a million things could have gone wrong, but the entire travel experience just went perfectly. Nobody gave Xdog a second glance even though she was technically over the wight limit and the carrier didn't meet specs, no flights were delayed even though weather on both ends was sketchy, and we even landed early coming back.
Living in the Bay Area I tend to forget we have seasons, other than that people generally change the color of the clothes they wear, but up north it's most definitely fall. The trees were striking shades of gold, green, and red, and the air was crisp and moist (and occasionally rainy... but remarkably only so when we already wanted to stay in).
We made a trip into Seattle, saw old friends and met new ones, explored places neither of us had been, as well as Aaron taking me places from his youth. We got enough rest and plenty of exercise. Basically, it was pretty much the most perfect vacation ever.
Without further ado, the pictures...
My birthday present from Aaron's parents, a pink bb gun and targets to go along with it.
Shavi!
The view from Shavi's window
Xdog experiences her first fall
We took the ferry to Whidby Island, had the most amazing day with new friends, their dogs, the beach, and golf course beers and somehow this is the only picture I have to prove we were ever there. Documentation fail.
My birthday hike
And finally, the crocheted tequila bottle cover. Amazing.
Monday, October 12, 2009
The Words Escape Me
I'm not quite sure what my problem of late has been but, for some reason, I'm having a hard time expressing myself. Actually, that's not what I'm trying to say. It's more like I'm having a hard time understanding why I feel the way I feel, and the inability to understand the cause makes it impossible to share with others.
For instance, the other day at the end of yoga class the teacher finished by saying, "Namaste." Tradition dictates the whole class will softly repeat it back to the teacher, but the woman next to me instead said,"God bless you." I instantly got mega-offended and my savasana meditation was blown. I laid there in the dark classroom, silently seething.
Afterward I tried to explain to someone how annoying this was but I couldn't. I mean, "Namaste" pretty much means "God bless you" but just not in English, so what was the big deal? What was it about hearing that particular saying in that particular setting that made me so mad? Am I that anti-Christian? If I classified myself an athiest it would make sense to boycott the whole "Namaste" tradition altogether, but since I don't identify that way and I regularly participate by saying the one thing, why not the other? Why is it okay to participate in hollow forms of other religions, like the Ganesh-esque tattoo I sport on my right arm? How would I react to the if I saw some Indian guy walking around with a tattoo of a Jesus fish sporting googly eyes? (Actually, I'd probably crack up)
Anyhow, the point is that I never figured out the answer, and that in itself left me more upset than the original incident.
This weekend we went up to Eureka to my grandfather's wake. As we drove up I realized I hadn't seen that side of the family since I was about 13, and that was nearly 20 years ago. The whole thing read like a high school reunion (rather, what I imagine a high school reunion would be like... I've never had the slightest inkling to attend one until I'm a mega-billionaire who has invented an untraceable gamma-ray-type weapon that will extinguish all those who have wronged me). Basically, no one had changed yet everything had changed.
What struck me most was my one cousin. We'd been relatively the same age growing up so had always been clumped together. As we stood chatting around the keg I realized how different our lives now were.
The whole drive home I couldn't shake it. As an exhausted Aaron napped I had plenty of head space to take in the whole thing, but I couldn't place it. I remembered looking around the house at photographs and piecing together the landmarks that make up a person's life. It wasn't pity I felt, but more like a kind of sadness or guilt. I searched for the source of the emotion and I tried to put my finger on what it was, but I couldn't. It's like I was blank, and the more I thought about it the more it escaped me.
For instance, the other day at the end of yoga class the teacher finished by saying, "Namaste." Tradition dictates the whole class will softly repeat it back to the teacher, but the woman next to me instead said,"God bless you." I instantly got mega-offended and my savasana meditation was blown. I laid there in the dark classroom, silently seething.
Afterward I tried to explain to someone how annoying this was but I couldn't. I mean, "Namaste" pretty much means "God bless you" but just not in English, so what was the big deal? What was it about hearing that particular saying in that particular setting that made me so mad? Am I that anti-Christian? If I classified myself an athiest it would make sense to boycott the whole "Namaste" tradition altogether, but since I don't identify that way and I regularly participate by saying the one thing, why not the other? Why is it okay to participate in hollow forms of other religions, like the Ganesh-esque tattoo I sport on my right arm? How would I react to the if I saw some Indian guy walking around with a tattoo of a Jesus fish sporting googly eyes? (Actually, I'd probably crack up)
Anyhow, the point is that I never figured out the answer, and that in itself left me more upset than the original incident.
This weekend we went up to Eureka to my grandfather's wake. As we drove up I realized I hadn't seen that side of the family since I was about 13, and that was nearly 20 years ago. The whole thing read like a high school reunion (rather, what I imagine a high school reunion would be like... I've never had the slightest inkling to attend one until I'm a mega-billionaire who has invented an untraceable gamma-ray-type weapon that will extinguish all those who have wronged me). Basically, no one had changed yet everything had changed.
What struck me most was my one cousin. We'd been relatively the same age growing up so had always been clumped together. As we stood chatting around the keg I realized how different our lives now were.
The whole drive home I couldn't shake it. As an exhausted Aaron napped I had plenty of head space to take in the whole thing, but I couldn't place it. I remembered looking around the house at photographs and piecing together the landmarks that make up a person's life. It wasn't pity I felt, but more like a kind of sadness or guilt. I searched for the source of the emotion and I tried to put my finger on what it was, but I couldn't. It's like I was blank, and the more I thought about it the more it escaped me.
Tuesday, September 22, 2009
Dressing Impaired
Back when I was a freshman in college, there was this boy I had a crush on. I'd never met him, only seen him from afar, but really liked the looks of his dreadlocks (you can stop laughing now).
One day I actually made it to my 9 am Friday class and was surprised to learn that he also had a class that let out the same time. I figured this out when I passed him on my way to the second class. Quickly, I made a plan.
The next Friday my goal was to seduce him from afar. I put on my favorite hat, my favorite shirt, my favorite shorts (including wallet chain), favorite socks, and my low-top converse. I was so proud of myself.
Halfway through my first class I looked down and actually took stock of my outfit: it was hideous. My "favorites" didn't match at all. In fact, my apricot bowling shirt totally clashed with my orange Halloween socks, and the big, baggy shorts and the green converse just made the whole thing look like a clown's outfit. I ran back to the dorms in shame, hoping he wouldn't see me.
Even though I and my wardrobe have grown since then, there are still some days, like today, where I look in the mirror and ask myself, "Wtf are you thinking?"
One day I actually made it to my 9 am Friday class and was surprised to learn that he also had a class that let out the same time. I figured this out when I passed him on my way to the second class. Quickly, I made a plan.
The next Friday my goal was to seduce him from afar. I put on my favorite hat, my favorite shirt, my favorite shorts (including wallet chain), favorite socks, and my low-top converse. I was so proud of myself.
Halfway through my first class I looked down and actually took stock of my outfit: it was hideous. My "favorites" didn't match at all. In fact, my apricot bowling shirt totally clashed with my orange Halloween socks, and the big, baggy shorts and the green converse just made the whole thing look like a clown's outfit. I ran back to the dorms in shame, hoping he wouldn't see me.
Even though I and my wardrobe have grown since then, there are still some days, like today, where I look in the mirror and ask myself, "Wtf are you thinking?"
Sunday, September 20, 2009
Vegas, I'm Over You.
Seriously.
This past week I spent almost 6 days in Las Vegas. After Day 2, I was over the town. Don't get me wrong, I had a good time. I traveled with good people, Paco Collars did some good business, and we made lots of important connections. But the things that make Las Vegas so charming in a 24 hour window suddenly became huge inconveniences when spread out over several days.
For instance, it's impossible to get a healthy meal in Vegas. Dare you to try. If you're remotely sick then you'll never overcome it being stuck in recirculated air that's constantly filled with cigarette smoke. You have no choice than to be stuck in air-conditioned, smoke-filled hell as the temperature outside it 107 degrees (oh wait, it was a cool spell when we got there so it only hovered around 98-100 the whole time). You stay up way too late due to unnatural lighting and you wake up way too early from the heat. It's hard to stick to a budget since everything costs an arm and a leg (and the cheap deals will probably get you in doctor's bills down the road). The 10+ hour car ride either way does not help the pain.
The way I see it, I've done Vegas right. I've eaten my share of buffets, gambled the night away, been to a strip club, gotten my blood alcohol level probably up into the double digits, nearly gotten married, seen mud wrestling and bikini bull riding, consumed mushrooms and then played nickel slots all night, celebrated the turning of the New Year... twice...
I've pretty much done it all so, you know what? I'm done. I'm done with Vegas and I don't really see a need to go back (until next year... shudder!)
But to prove we actually had fun, here are the pics:
This past week I spent almost 6 days in Las Vegas. After Day 2, I was over the town. Don't get me wrong, I had a good time. I traveled with good people, Paco Collars did some good business, and we made lots of important connections. But the things that make Las Vegas so charming in a 24 hour window suddenly became huge inconveniences when spread out over several days.
For instance, it's impossible to get a healthy meal in Vegas. Dare you to try. If you're remotely sick then you'll never overcome it being stuck in recirculated air that's constantly filled with cigarette smoke. You have no choice than to be stuck in air-conditioned, smoke-filled hell as the temperature outside it 107 degrees (oh wait, it was a cool spell when we got there so it only hovered around 98-100 the whole time). You stay up way too late due to unnatural lighting and you wake up way too early from the heat. It's hard to stick to a budget since everything costs an arm and a leg (and the cheap deals will probably get you in doctor's bills down the road). The 10+ hour car ride either way does not help the pain.
The way I see it, I've done Vegas right. I've eaten my share of buffets, gambled the night away, been to a strip club, gotten my blood alcohol level probably up into the double digits, nearly gotten married, seen mud wrestling and bikini bull riding, consumed mushrooms and then played nickel slots all night, celebrated the turning of the New Year... twice...
I've pretty much done it all so, you know what? I'm done. I'm done with Vegas and I don't really see a need to go back (until next year... shudder!)
But to prove we actually had fun, here are the pics:
Winner, winner, winner!
(the ticket proving I was up to $14.80 after gambling only $10... and after I lent $5 to Dang)
epic entrance
slammed I am
reluctant cuddler
um...
daybreak after a night of gambling
Tuesday, September 8, 2009
Work talk
A long time ago I promised I wouldn't talk about work. Well, I lied...
I am so freaking busy right now it's stupid. We're gearing up to go to SuperZoo which will be our largest sales endeavor to date. In the world of large companies, mass production, and slick displays we're the underdog with our homegrown DIY mentality. Despite the fact I was pulling work days that lasted until midnight last week, it was just today that the enormity of the task in front of us hit home.
About 11:30 am the work phone rings. It's a woman who remembers us from the Costa Mesa show and she wants to know if we'll be on the SuperZoo TV segment to be played on local television (with little Xdog, of course). Of course I agree, despite the fact this means I'll have to look presentable at 4:30 Wednesday morning (we'll be on with Tillman, the skateboarding bulldog).
We finally get around to reading the rules for the thing (we like to fly by the seat of our pants) and find out that we have to ship our entire booth down in advance and have it set up by the union. Not wanting to piss off the Las Vegas mafia but also well aware we're capable of carrying all of it in ourselves, Paul makes some calls and finds out we're exempt so long as we use the main entrance and not the loading dock. Crisis averted.
We spent the entire day cutting and training two new production-pinch-hitters so that we'll simply have enough product to show at the event. I'm scheduled to work insane hours until we leave, my day off being Saturday. And my day off I'll be spending in Aaron's shop making us new signage. All the while e-mails are pouring in at an astounding rate since we're having a sale to fund the gas money to get down there.
Don't get me wrong, I love this, I thrive on it. Minus the "OMG, I don't have one single decent pair of shoes to wear" freak-out I had yesterday this has been a relatively stress-free process, and the folks going are exactly who I'd want to hang out with in Vegas (bwahahaha!).
All the cards are lined up just right...
I am so freaking busy right now it's stupid. We're gearing up to go to SuperZoo which will be our largest sales endeavor to date. In the world of large companies, mass production, and slick displays we're the underdog with our homegrown DIY mentality. Despite the fact I was pulling work days that lasted until midnight last week, it was just today that the enormity of the task in front of us hit home.
About 11:30 am the work phone rings. It's a woman who remembers us from the Costa Mesa show and she wants to know if we'll be on the SuperZoo TV segment to be played on local television (with little Xdog, of course). Of course I agree, despite the fact this means I'll have to look presentable at 4:30 Wednesday morning (we'll be on with Tillman, the skateboarding bulldog).
We finally get around to reading the rules for the thing (we like to fly by the seat of our pants) and find out that we have to ship our entire booth down in advance and have it set up by the union. Not wanting to piss off the Las Vegas mafia but also well aware we're capable of carrying all of it in ourselves, Paul makes some calls and finds out we're exempt so long as we use the main entrance and not the loading dock. Crisis averted.
We spent the entire day cutting and training two new production-pinch-hitters so that we'll simply have enough product to show at the event. I'm scheduled to work insane hours until we leave, my day off being Saturday. And my day off I'll be spending in Aaron's shop making us new signage. All the while e-mails are pouring in at an astounding rate since we're having a sale to fund the gas money to get down there.
Don't get me wrong, I love this, I thrive on it. Minus the "OMG, I don't have one single decent pair of shoes to wear" freak-out I had yesterday this has been a relatively stress-free process, and the folks going are exactly who I'd want to hang out with in Vegas (bwahahaha!).
All the cards are lined up just right...
Monday, August 31, 2009
Late Summer is the new June
I don't know what it is, but everyone is getting married right now. Or breaking up. I've heard of so many weddings and breakups in the past couple of weeks. The ongoing theme is definitely "change."
We only had one wedding to deal with, but it was a big one. Aaron's best friend/business partner got married this past weekend to his longtime girlfriend, Parul. The event was a 3 day long celebration one year in the making that spanned the entire Bay Area and included a candy table, photo booth, rickshaw, umbrellas, an hour long ceremony in 100 degree heat, saris, an art gallery, wine country, shuttle buses, and lots, and lots of drinking.
The entire Edsinger clan came into town to celebrate, which means I'm still recovering today.
The highlights:
During the ceremony
The rickshaw
View from the driver's seat
And finally, this picture that cracks me up every time.
We only had one wedding to deal with, but it was a big one. Aaron's best friend/business partner got married this past weekend to his longtime girlfriend, Parul. The event was a 3 day long celebration one year in the making that spanned the entire Bay Area and included a candy table, photo booth, rickshaw, umbrellas, an hour long ceremony in 100 degree heat, saris, an art gallery, wine country, shuttle buses, and lots, and lots of drinking.
The entire Edsinger clan came into town to celebrate, which means I'm still recovering today.
The highlights:
During the ceremony
The rickshaw
View from the driver's seat
And finally, this picture that cracks me up every time.
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