Day 51: Remember the Time... I Couldn't Have Spent A Better $65

Part One: Love At First Sight

As long as I can remember, I've been a "dog" person. I grew up asking for a puppy, but after the Bob Dog debacle when I was a kid, that wasn't ever going to happen as long as I was living under my parents' roof.

Long story short: my brother, sister, and I were probably all under the age of 10 when my parents agreed to watch their friend's dog named Bob (my dad's name). We were too young to take any real responsibility of the dog (plus it ran away once, causing my dad to go out and call his own name while looking for the trouble-maker) so that became the reason we couldn't get a dog, even after my sister went so far as to give my parents an ultimatum:

"You either need to get us a dog, a baby, or a trampoline."

We got none of the above. But she tried.

So growing up, I had to settle for smaller, easier-to-take-care-of pets. We had a huge fish tank with a rotating cast of fish, and also there was Hampy the golden hamster, Taz and Tiger the dwarf hamsters, Cocoa the dwarf rabbit (we liked miniature animals, apparently) Jake the piranha (inherited from an ex-boyfriend), a gecko (inherited from the ex-boyfriend's female "friend" (yeah right)), and another hamster (inherited from a high school friend).

But since I've always wanted a dog, the moment I could get one I started research on petfinder.com (which consisted of aawing at all the adorable puppies).

I had made up my mind that I didn't want a puppy for my first dog because I didn't want to deal with the chewing and potty training, and I picked breeds that didn't shed - an akita, poodle, or bichon frise. I also wanted a female so I didn't have to deal with the "marking" business.

I went to a few different shelters after finding a dog matching my criteria on petfinder, but apparently PetFinder doesn't update their website too often, as the dog was usually either long gone or spoken for when I got to the shelter. And the other ones were either too young, too old, too big, etc.

Then I paid a visit to the Toledo Humane Society when I was free one day and clanked open the door to the dog room only to be met with barking, howling, and general ruckus.

After passing by adorable puppies, older dogs, and a frightened-looking pup in a corner, I came upon a calm black-and-brown dog who wasn't barking or cowering, but just looking up at me with the darkest brown eyes. I glanced up and saw this dog, whose name was Chloe, was a "Shepherd mix, about 2 years old. Spayed."

Well this dog fits the age range, I thought to myself. And she's really cute with an adorable name, and is already fixed.

So I asked to take her outside - even though the employee there at the time, an older woman, was extremely rude and acted like I was bothering her by asking questions. Chloe dragged me out to the back and paid absolutely no attention to me whatsoever, something drew me to her. I think it was clinched when I was told "Chloe just needs someone to love her."

I could totally be that person.

So I called Brent and told him about this dog I found and asked if I could take him to meet her on his lunch break from work. He agreed, and the first thing he said when he saw her was, "I didn't think she'd be that big." But I told him how old she was, and that she was full-grown and I thought she was "the dog." 

He gave me the go-ahead, and after paying the $65 adoption/registration fees - and trying to be patient with the same rude woman who was irritated that I was asking what kind of food they'd been feeding her so I wouldn't shock her system - I took Chloe home to love.

Stay tuned for Part Two: Winging It As A First-Time Pup Mom

Day 50: If I Ruled Lichtenstein... Flexibility Would Rule

Among many, many other reasons, one of the aspects I loved about college (the later years, anyway) was that I could set my own schedule to correspond with my interests and my body’s natural alarm clock. If I didn’t want to go to class until noon, I wouldn’t sign up for any morning classes. If I didn’t want to go to school on Fridays, I didn’t go to school on Fridays.

This is how the office-dwellers in Lichtenstein would model our work schedules. I knew that to graduate from college, I had to take certain classes, but worked them in as was convenient for me and my schedule. Similarly, our workers know they have to work a certain number of hours a week, but will be permitted to do so when it works for them. But the flexibility will be there for those who would like to take advantage, as long as it’s not abused.

Most people would still probably go the 9-5 route, but that’s because the school systems would be on a similar schedule. Classes will not be starting at 7:15 a.m. or whatever ungodly hour they are starting classes these days. Whoever thought it was a good idea to have kids awake, fed, dressed, and transported to class anytime near 7 a.m. is ridiculous, especially since parents generally head to work nearly two hours later, and then have to worry about picking their kids up and/or having someone watch their kids for two-plus hours before they get off work.

Come on people. It just makes sense.

Day 49: What Did Batman Say To Robin...

Holy Similar Children's Songs Batman!

 

Why is the Alphabet Song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star sung in the same tune?

My partner in crime weighs in: We are all familiar with the Alphabet Song. We are all familiar with Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. We are all familiar with Coke. We are all familiar with Pepsi. We are all familiar with Barnes & Noble. We are all familiar with Borders. What do all of these things have in common? One came first, the other came second, and also, no one cares why.

One great idea spawns an even better second idea. Competing products start and are defined by the consumer. Like who invented the first chair? And who invented the 2^nd chair? And why are lions so afraid of chairs? Obviously, people were tired of standing around. Enter chair. The first chair was just a stick in the middle of a flattened surface. This was good for the time, but people eventually got confused on which part to sit on. Ass injuries went through the roof. Enter 2^nd chair, a beautiful, yet simple design. 4 legs, a flat surface, a back to lean on.  

Before you knew it, people started making all kinds of chairs. Benches, bleachers, stools, folding chairs, beach chairs, folding chairs, stools, plastic chairs, wooden chairs, metal chairs, soft chairs, sofas, love seats, car seats, wheel chairs, rocking chairs. I think that’s all the kinds of chairs there is.

The story is similar with the Alphabet Song.  Because people were far, far stupider in beginning times, they needed a short mnemonic device to remember the alphabet. “Always Beware of Cats Darting Erratically Forward Going Halfway Into Jungles, Kathy, Lest Mopey Neighbors Open Poorly Quitted Radioactive Sunlamps To Ultra-Violet Waves or X-rays, Yo Zack!”

It eventually took the dedication of famous cryptographer, Althea Thoon, to write a simple, yet catchy song with only letters to remember the alphabet as we know it.  Before anyone could realize the popularity of the song, an astronomer, known only by his moniker, “That Lonely Guy” took that melody and started applying it to the only things he spent most of his weekend nights with, the stars. Hence Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star. This resulted in two songs of the same tune with no one understanding which came first or why. Well, dear reader, I hope you can sleep easier having one less question.

 

My response: I care why. That's why I asked this pressing question!

 

The Alphabet song is generally the very first song a child learns. It's necessary for a child to learn in order for them to eventually form words and talk. But because they are just learning how to talk, the songwriters didn't want to throw words and a new melody at the children. It's like writing a poem worrying about rhyme scheme and syllable count (see yesterday's entry).

 

So to alleviate the difficulty that might cause children to give up attempting to talk and oversaturate the mime market, the songwriters decided to keep it simple and keep the same melody. Done and done.

 

So why is the Alphabet Song and Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star sung in the same tune? Because people in early times needed mnemonic devices and children need to learn one skill at a time.

 

Day 48: Never Have I Ever... Walked In Chloe's Paws

Holy crap I need to vacuum, was the first thought that popped into my head after getting down on all fours next to my German shepherd mix, Chloe, to take in just what she sees on a day-to-day basis. When I'm down on all fours, my eyes are at eye-level with hers, so it's the perfect way to see how she perceives the world.

Chloe immediately thought I was down on the floor because I wanted to play, so she plopped right down in front of me and started pawing at me.

"It's not time to play right now Miss Chloe. It's time to research," I informed her as I unsnapped her collar and put it around my neck. Of course right after snapping the collar into place and taking my first few glances around the bedroom is when Brent meandered into the room and stopped short when he saw me.

"You. Are. A. Freak," he said, shaking his head and immediately heading back out the door while calling over his shoulder, "If this is for your blog I don't even want to know."

Ok, ok. Maybe this is really weird, but I don't care. It's interesting, and I love to experiment.

"Good. Now we can do this in peace," I say to Chloe with a quick pat on her head. After marveling at just how much black dog hair I choose to ignore on the beige carpet fibers, I realize that having a collar with metal tags that jingle around my neck with every step right near my ears is extremely annoying. I like it on Chloe because I can always tell where she is, and I can only hope she's used to it by now and doesn't resent me for making her wear it.

First stop? Chloe's dog bed, which I have wedged in a corner facing two floor-to-ceiling windows next to both of my dressers. I actually find it quite peaceful lying there looking out past the leaves of a tree to a busy street with whizzing cars. Lying on dog beds - although a bit smelly, I notice - is not too bad. After all, my 3 1/2-year-old niece Kenzie seems to enjoy it.

Next stop? The bathroom next to the toilet, which has been Chloe's favorite place in every place she's lived with us. I always make sure that the trash can is on one side and the other is clear so she has a place to lie. The dog bed is much more comfortable, but it's cooler next to the toilet, which smells like, well, a toilet. I guess I shouldn't read too much into the fact that she likes to curl up amid stenches, as dogs are fascinated with other dogs butts and poop after all.

After a minute in the bathroom, I head out on all fours into the living room. Geez my neck is getting sore, I think as I realize that I've mostly been looking up because everything near the floor is bland and boring. The carpet is tan, the walls are tan, and all the pictures and color are at human eye level, not a dog's.

Note to self: Put a picture of a dog or a bone or something right above the lower moulding, I think, ignoring the fact that Chloe would never notice. And is that really what the back of my couch looks like? Huh. I never noticed that wide pattern it's so much lower than I'm used to looking.

I end my not-so-scientific-and-strange experiment crawling under the daybed in the den, which is where Chloe goes when she's scared. I can see why, as it's quieter under there and there's a sense of security with the close proximity of the bottom of the daybed. Plus you can see just enough to know what's going on by peeking out under the bed.

"Although I would love the sleeping-all-day-and-getting-petted-all-evening concept, I just can't deal with this jingling collar and monochromatic stinky environment," I tell Chloe after straightening up and concluding my experiment. "I think I'll leave being the pup to you. Come here and let me rub your belly."

Day 47: Shakespeare's High School Poetry... On Struggling In Quicksand

This week's poem is not quite like what it sounds. A Minute Poem does not take just a minute to compose, as it's strict and formulaic and I found really quite frustrating to write.

A minute poem is 60 syllables consisted of 12 lines of strict iambic meter. The 12 lines are broken up in three stanzas consisting of six rhyming couplets. There are eight syllables in the first lines of each stanza, and four syllables for the remaining nine lines. It's as formulaic as a minute, which is strictly 60 seconds - no more, no less - yet much more complicated with its rules.

I can handle a rhyme scheme or syllable count, but having both really made it too constricting for me to enjoy because I couldn't make it perfect in my eyes. Maybe that's how and why it developed into the quicksand theme. But in any case, here it is:


Sinking

Thinking of who I used to be
is how I see
how I became
part of the game.

While in its throes I justify,
turn a blind eye,
give in to it –
a quicksand pit.

The change made for me to my life
balanced the strife
I fought to keep
while in too deep.

Day 46: A Picture Is Worth 1,000 Words... Even If It's Poorly Drawn

This picture could also be a "Remember the Time" because it would end with "I really suck at drawing but I had to draw because I was home sick from work on Friday and don't have Photoshop at home."

So just to help you know what's going on in the drawing so you can guess the cliche, yes the bullet to the left is wearing a headband and jersey and no I don't have a peach marker which is why the girl in the front apparently has never seen the sunshine even though it is in the picture. Yet it's so clever that I'm sure you won't have any trouble guessing the cliche.

Last week's cliche: Let sleeping dogs lie.

Day 45: Stop. Focus. Click... On My Favorite Game

When I moved to New York, I knew exactly one person - the person I moved there with. So to meet people, I joined a basketball team and ended up meeting some of the best friends I have from New York.
Here's hoping the same thing will happen twice now that I'm here in Chicago. If not, at least I'll have a basketball in my hands again. Fingers crossed!