Saturday, January 19, 2013

Rough Day

We had our first class today. And Riley was the one shaking in the corner, but she was at the head of the class! I don't imagine that will last once we get past the easy stuff. Today we practiced heeling and walked around the store, which was quite busy at 1:30 on a Saturday. The instructor and some of the other dog owners were giggling about how Riley CLEARLY needed to work on pulling, as she was the only dog in the class who was not. Well, she is 12.

We did a stay exercise with increasing distractions. During the last step, the instructor walked around the dog while bouncing a ball. Most dogs wanted to bite the ball- I figured Riley would be afraid it would hit her. She did well, though, because I was holding cookies. Cookie training. By the time we left, she was tired and definitely more relaxed than when we walked in. This will be good.

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Friday, January 18, 2013

Weird Schedule

I'm up cleaning, now that it's 11:00 at night. I went to bed at 6 this evening. I was just done. Now I'm awake and am puttering around, policing and running the cat around with the laser pointer. I did try to watch a movie when I got home, but it was awful. Anna Farris in Smiley Face. It's about a girl who is stoned and struggling through her day. What the hell would possess me to order this? Well, at some point I read an article called something like "The Best Movies You've Never Seen." I put a whole mess of them in my queue and so far it seems like there is a good reason why no one has seen them. What Blockbuster really needs is a little space next to the movie's title where you could remind yourself why you chose that movie. You know, something like "Oscar winner" or "Blah Blah recommended it." Or, if you're like me, it could say "See EW review you ripped out of the magazine and have stored in your movie folder. Two others: Chico and Rita and Jiro Dreams of Sushi. Did I already write about Jiro? What a neat documentary. The review said you don't even have to like sushi, and I think that's true. I think I did write about that one, but you should watch it.

I really wanted to like Chico and Rita, but I did not. It was an animated film about the Cuban influence on music in the 40's and incorporated real life musicians, which was neat, but this is supposed to be a love story and really just seemed like another example of some asshole who's too slow to recognize something good and the woman who puts up with a bunch of shit because she loves him. I may be viewing everything through this lens these days, because Arbitrage also pissed me off. Asshole commits fraud, adultery, and essentially murder and spends all his energy trying to run other people into the ground in a futile effort to save himself. And of course, I feel bad for him. There is something wrong with me.

But last night, I watched Apollo 13. It came from the queue. What a neat movie. I watched the bonus feature about the film and got to see the real people involved and real footage. I found out that Gary Sinese is awesome. His role was my favorite and he talked about being invited to read for anything and wanted to play this guy. Ken Mattingly was supposed to be on the crew, but got grounded 3 days before the mission because he could have potentially gotten the measles. Sinese does a great job portraying his disappointment, but an even better job coming to the crew's rescue by helping to work out the reentry procedures with a limited amount of power in the simulator from the ground. This was a neat lesson in how sometimes things happen that make no sense and frustrate the bejeezus out of you only to turn out to have a very important reason indeed. Mattingly was able to try out all different kinds of sequences and fail many times in the simulator before finding a solution- which he would not have been able to do from the ship. He was the right person for the job, he just needed to be on the ground to do it. It's crazy to think about how many things went wrong and how easily those astronauts could have died- not from an instant explosion, but drifting away into space. Good frickin god. Another role I loved was the guy charged with making a carbon dioxide filter with what extra stuff the crew had available. Imagine the pressure on him. NASA really is incredible.

Anyway, it's time for popcorn and a magazine. Tomorrow is a busy day.

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Suddenly, I care about football.

Remind me that it's a three day weekend and I don't have that long to go.  I'm really starting to hate my job.  This is totally wrong for me.  My foot's in the door, but now it's starting to hurt.  I need to wedge my body further in and hopefully squeeze all the way in until I am freely through and it no longer feels constraining to be there.  Did I carry that metaphor far enough?

Three day weekend.  Maybe that will help it to feel long enough.  I have fun things to do this weekend and a strict new budget plan that I'm looking forward to trying out.  Must save some money.  RC Willey is giving out hot dogs and drinks on Saturday.  That's a huge furniture store, and I just so happen to be looking for a couch.  It's "while supplies last," of course, so keep your fingers crossed that I get a free lunch.  Plus, I'll be grocery shopping right after that, so you know I need to eat first.

I think I'll go watch the playoff game on Sunday at a sports bar.  I could use a beer and some bar food.  My apartment complex sent out a text inviting us to come pick a team.  If you pick the winning team, you get $300 off rent.  There will probably be a drawing or something out of the winners, but that's a pot I want to be in.  Now that I have a stake in the game, I'll go watch.  I picked the 49rs.  I didn't even know who was playing- had to ask the office ladies.  They didn't know either, just directed me to the sign.  Ha ha ha.  I picked my first instinct.  I don't know why, let's go with an Old West theme here.  So keep your fingers crossed and root for the 49rs!  And root for some magical outcome where I get $300 off my rent.  Go Niners!

Wednesday, January 16, 2013

Messing with kids



Here they are trying to encourage a 7-year-old to jump over one of the players.  That’s Too Tall over there to the right.  Different kids were brought out onto the court throughout the night for musical chairs and dance contests and such, and it was neat to see other kids in the audience root for the kids out on the floor.  It was neat, like it was a chance for the kids to beat the adults for once.
Anyway, I had a wonderful time.  What a great show.  If you ever get the chance, go.  I needed some silliness and I don’t believe anyone I know has too much silliness in their life.

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Slightly different rules



Another thing that made this show more fun than a normal basketball game was the rule changes.  They added the four-point shot throughout the game, and briefly had two balls in play during the second quarter.  The third quarter was double points and I wasn’t paying attention to whatever the last one was.  This guy in the picture hung back while his teammates were attempting a shot, climbed up on the opposing team’s basket, and when they tried for a basket, he kicked the ball away.  Everyone was watching the action and got a surprise to see him standing up there.  That was funny and provided a good reason for a time out and more silliness.  I loved how they all acted as if such craziness was normal.
 I appreciated the changes- for years I have been yelling about how basketball- a sport that began with peach baskets, and the first team to sink the ball won, and the janitor had to come out with a ladder to retrieve the ball- has become too easy or the players too good, so it’s time to raise the baskets or SOMETHING.  That’s why I always enjoyed the Rock and Jock games on MTV with their ridiculously tall baskets and trampolines.  But anyway, good on them for making it harder, or at least to appear so.
The last thing I want to talk about (poor guys) is the opposing team.  They are clearly part of the show, but I wondered if they are being groomed to become Globetrotters or if they are stuck permanently in a losing role.  (There’s a name for that guy in boxing… if anybody knows that, please tell me.  Google is not helping.)  I’m trying to picture the wanted ad for that job.  “Good at basketball, 3+ years theater experience, willing to always lose…”  These were not terrible basketball players.  They had 118 points the last time I paid attention.  They hit a lot of those 4-point shots too.  And they were reasonable actors.  When the Globetrotters won the “World Championship” (World Championship of what? And how often is this contest held?  Amazing that I just so coincidentally got tickets to it… in Reno…), the “Selects” trotted off the court, not looking disappointed about the game, but with a deeper discontentment than that.  Then again, perhaps they are relieved that they don’t have to stand there “until every single fan that wants to meet the Globetrotters and get an autograph has the chance.”  I’m sure they all hang out together as they surely travel together, but I wonder if they practice together.

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Lurch



All the players were super skilled, even the really short guy nicknamed, of course, “Too Tall.”  The weirdest player was this guy who was a giant.  I mean, a GIANT.  He towered over BASKETBALL PLAYERS.  I think he was about eight feet tall.  When I saw him run out onto the court, I thought that he was not going to be a stellar player.  He was not, but he didn’t have to be.  His job was to get under the basket and just bat the shot attempts down to his teammates.  Periodically, he’d do a layup or a dunk, but he didn’t have to put in much effort.  During one of the moments when he was supposed to be making the shot, they played “The Addams Family” theme song.  The comparison was not lost on anyone, I’m sure.  Have you ever seen people like this who look like it hurts to be that big?  His neck was always leaning forward and he reminded me of a Great Dane- you know, how you can watch the intention to move travel through their body and their body is slow to follow?
Sadly, the funniest thing to me was unrelated to basketball and reveals that my sense of fine comedy could easily be sated by America’s Funniest Home Videos.  Somewhere in the second half, they brought out Globie’s big brother, who was probably the same person in a much larger, inflatable costume.  Think about how big normal mascot costumes are and then think about what I mean by much bigger.  Globie’s moves were impressive, but Globie’s big brother could wing that inflatable head around in time to music.  He could dance, but his most impressive move by far was when he ran towards the fans sitting courtside, fake tripped, and fell flat on his inflatable face.  Hard.  I thought I was going to choke.  He timed it so well that he smacked the floor RIGHT in front of these people- any closer and his hat would have hit their knees.  I’m snorting over here, remembering that as I write.  He did that four or five times in different directions, providing us varying views of him falling down.  It’s embarrassing to say that this is what entertained me the most, but it was just so funny to watch him run, run, run, SMACK!  This guy had to be THROWING himself to the floor and I have no idea how he wasn’t hurting himself.  You’d think he’d have some kind of protection in there, but he also had lots of freedom to move around in there to make the giant inflatable mascot break dance.  Spun on his head and everything.  It was crazy.

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Audience Participation



Time for a little YMCA.
The show was really geared towards kids, but was still so entertaining for the rest of us.  I laughed and laughed.  Some of their antics were really cracking me up.  It was nice to see people who are that skilled have fun with the game, stop and mess with the refs or bring little kids onto the court.  At one point, they took some lady’s purse and brought it out on the court and passed it around like it was in play.  Then they handed it to a member of the other team who couldn’t figure out what to do with it, so he put it over his shoulder and continued to play.
A lot of their silliness is clearly scripted, and certain plays are planned, but it seemed like there was a lot that was a legitimate demonstration of their skills, like how they passed the ball.  Talent, attention, and communication.  I thought if the pros did more of that, they’d be even better players.  When I say they passed the ball, I mean like 45 times before they’d shoot the ball.  It was like the shell game, trying to keep up with where the ball was.  They are very practiced at what they do, but sometimes the scripting was a surprise, like when some guy interrupts the game and the ref misses a call and they rewind for an instant replay.  Everybody moves backwards quickly, reversing their movements and it was all a plan when it just looked like they were all just freely playing basketball.  That in itself was hysterical, but for the slow-motion replay, they replaced the ball with a basketball shaped balloon, Globetrotters colors and all.  It was so funny.

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Something different for a Tuesday



I went to see the Harlem Globetrotters last night.
I went by myself and learned that going places by myself means that I talk to the people around me.  I sat next to a paramedic and we talked about reviving diabetics.  About 45 minutes before the show started (I got there early and ate a hot dog), the emcee was introduced and we were entertained by Globie, their mascot.  Globie wears the traditional giant head and looks like a stuffed animal, so it’s amazing that he was able to dance and do back flips.  I was impressed.  He had a DJ skit where he wears headphones and that was awesome- those giant headphones were so silly.

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Tuesday, January 15, 2013

I may be a pushover in relationships, but not with the dealership.

Just called the Toyota dealership to ask what's included in an oil change.

"Oh, we check the fluids-"

"Which fluids?"

"Transmission, windshield wiper-"

"Ok, good.  I brought my car in for an oil change and I thought I ran out of wiper fluid and it turns out it's full of water and frozen solid."

"Oh, we wouldn't put water in it."

"Exactly, which means it wasn't checked.  I'd like to come in and have you guys thaw it out and replace it with wiper fluid."

My favorite uncle Paul told me to make sure they check it for cracks because it wasn't cracked before and the frozen water could do that.  Who the hell replaces windshield wiper fluid with water?  It must have been that way when I bought it- from the dealership- or they didn't even look when I did the oil change.  When I saw the jug, I thought it was empty because I saw no blue.  When I opened it to add the fluid, I found it was already full... of ice.  Fabulous.  Imagine the temperatures we're having and how dirty my windshield is.  I keep meaning to wipe it down with a hat or a sock or something, but I'm already driving before I remember.  Like I said, it's hard work being slow.

The Toyota guy sounded like he was grudgingly agreeing to fix the problem.  Just challenge me- I dare you.

Dressing in the dark again

When I wake up and don’t want to get up (which is every morning, just ask Tracy), I check out Facebook and other entertaining things on my phone.  This morning there was a post about record lows in Nevada yesterday.  I went to check out the weather for today.  16 degrees outside.  Hmm.  How about I stay in bed instead?  Tracy vetoed that as she does every morning when I text her that I don’t want to get up.
So I got up and picked out some warm layers and found my zippy on the floor, zipped up.  Hmm, that’s weird.  You’d think it would be unzipped.  If I pulled it off, you’d think there would be another shirt inside.  There was.  I just found it hanging out the back when I got to work.  I thought I felt very bulky today.  It’s a full-time job being slow.

Monday, January 14, 2013

Thanks, Monday. That was awesome.

Ugh. Thank god I have a blog. Hopefully I can spout my wrath here instead of texts to Chris. He called to tell me about Ant's latest shenanigans and the mayhem they caused, and really, he's worse than Elaine. She called last night, baiting me- did I want to know what happened? No. No, I don't want to hear about it. And of course, she told me, but I heard a version that implicated the disgusting tramp and I was happy, thinking that would finally be the end of it. I don't want to try to reunite, I just want to see that crash and burn like it should. Hopefully in a spectacular manner involving herpes and destruction and everything else he so fully deserves. He calls to tell me about what Ant did now and what he lost as a result, sliding the responsibility right past himself AND his son and onto some other kid whose parents are clearly fucked up. He took everything from Ant and grounded him for the rest of the year- any bets on how long that will last? At least he's consistent in his inconsistency. And how did Ant get in such trouble, being left to his own devices? After all, fourteen-year-olds are known for their stellar decision-making abilities. Oh, but that's all fixed now, because he's going to be looked after while Chris is working by the tramp's parents. Oh hey, she's a juvenile delinquent parole officer something-or-other, fabulous! That's the point where I could not hold back the bile. I spit venom for as long as he was willing to hear it. How lovely that he's found someone else to dump his kid on, now that he's gotten rid of me. He's made out, hasn't he, with his young bimbo and her parents. "They like me," he said, reminding me for the eightieth time that my family did not. You dug that hole, big dummy. You will again. I bet they're just  thrilled that their fucked-up daughter has met someone further up the food chain. I heard him scoff when I called her a horrible person. Again, give it time. You'll surely find out.

I hate that I have become your bitter ex-girlfriend, you flaming asshole. I could turn all this anger inward and try to show some grace or I can let it burn its way out. The worst I did while I was still living in the house was kick a Triscuit box down the hall. Now I'd really like to break something. Thankfully, I have two pieces from the ceramics class that are horrible. Chris thinks I shouldn't break them, so the only thing left is to find a nice, solid chunk of concrete to hurl them against. Not because he wouldn't want me to, but because I don't want them and his opinion doesn't matter anymore.

I'm finding less to miss and more to be angry out, but don't you dare celebrate, Mom. Don't welcome me to this part because I hate it. I don't want to feel this way about someone- about anyone. I do want that girl to drown in her own vomit... actually, anyone's vomit will do, but the hatred I have for her is based only on her disgusting actions. I'm sure in real life she's actually a very thoughtless, selfish, immature, insecure bitch, but maybe she's tolerable.  Saf-t had a great post up the other day about not choosing people for their hair or their body or their face because that all goes, but who a person is in their heart- that never changes. I wanted to post it to my own wall or better yet- his, because for me it so neatly summarizes the end of us. Of course, that just makes me look like "the one who can't let go," so that's no good. Because I am letting go. Even though it pains me to think of people celebrating that on my behalf. I don't think it's a cause for celebration, I think it's a sad thing to lose love, whether it was horribly unbalanced or not. He argued that, just as I imagined he would. But actions...

The best thing I could do would be to be quiet when he says something stupid. Unfortunately, I am not very capable of that. And I am not going to try. I'm just going to let it out, just hopefully here. But really, did he really think he was going to tell me all that as if I would just listen and be supportive? Does he expect me to be a friend? That just seems to confirm for me that his head is still up his ass and there is no remorse. "No remorse?" he said. "I think I have royally fucked up my karma." Ah yes, that first rule of karma- only think about how it's going to affect you. Jesus.

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Car dancing always helps

I got up, took Riley along and drove to Best Buy, where I bought that Counting Crows album with the rocking awesome cover that I could always only catch half of on the radio. I wailed along and drove all over Reno looking for the UPS depot so I could pick up the package that Shannon sent to me. Now we're back I'm going to throw a quiche in the oven and open my present. After dinner I may take a hot shower and fall asleep while gradually cooling down instead of the other way around.

I'm feeling much better. And tomorrow is the Globetrotters!

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EGBOK

On one hand I think I will deal with this better in the long run because I am dealing with the grief now, unlike some people...

On the other hand, I think I am destined to feel more grief being the dumpee. Do you know how stupid I feel for sticking around and trying for so long? I think I must have been largely alone on that one, though I'm sure he'd disagree. The more distance there is between us, the less I believe I meant to him. If I meant more, he would have fought for us. Of course, there's that part where he says he's doing all this for my benefit, to let me go to find someone who deserves me. Of course, that's the biggest cop out ever. Then there's the other bunch of bullshit, that he and this tramp both think they're worthless, so that's something they have in common, something I just can't understand. Yes, I believe that's the old, sage advice about choosing to be around people worse than you to inspire pity party victim behavior. Yes, roll around in the trash and just confirm all those deep, dark fears about yourself. That's much easier than maturing emotionally. Regress about ten years, that ought to help. He is the little engine that put on a good show for a while before rolling back to the bottom, waving you on ahead.

I must be so entertaining- all I do is post anger here and Riley pictures on Facebook. This is a cold winter.

I have to keep telling myself- and please keep telling me too, even when I yell at you that I KNOW- that everything is gonna be okay. As the days get longer, I'll have more sunshine and I'll be warm again. There will be things to do and reasons to clean up and put on lip gloss. Remind me that for now it's okay to wear lots of layers and hey, next winter I'll have nice, new triple-paned windows. What a neat metaphor- I'll have more insulation from the cold. For now it's hot tea and Fiona Apple albums. Hot baths and Entertainment Weekly. Cheese and chaos. Back to the laundromat. Dog paddling with periodic near drownings. I can be a cold, grieving, snotty mess this winter. It may be important to dress up especially when you don't feel like it, but if you can't manage that, you just have to put on clothes and go to work. Do what you can and just remember that the days are going to get warmer. Be devastated and get through it anyway. Come home and cry sometimes. Then watch something that makes you laugh. Hug the dog. Design a cross-stitch that says, "Who knows what the tide could bring?"

That's enough for one night. Time to go do something else.

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Sunday, January 13, 2013

That nice red-faced girl

Just struck up a random conversation with a guy at Duds 'n Suds (don't get excited) because I could tell by the laundry he was folding that he had a wife and several children. What I had to tell him was how cool it was that he was here doing laundry by himself because too often I see guys sitting on their ass while the wives or girlfriends do everything. One douchebag wouldn't even watch their kid, just left her to do all the laundry and watch the very small child. Oh, and she was pregnant. Yeah, so most guys either sit down or do laundry with their SO's- the ones who are alone are often clearly single. I just had to tell this guy that I thought it was awesome. He was appreciative, but I know my face turned flaming red. I am so shy about talking to people I don't know that are not in the service industry. But I decided to be brave and I'm sure the beer helped. I'm sure the beer helped my face turn redder too. But we talked for a bit- he told me the washer died and he came here from Carson specifically for Duds 'n Suds because normal laundromats are scuzzy and scary. (My words, not his.) Anyway, the Universe rewarded me for speaking up because he gave me his extra quarters when he left. :D

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