Photo Shoot with the Girls

When I started volunteering at the humane society, everyone said, "careful, you are going to want to take them all home". Clearly, I had considered this before I started, and decided that if I ended up with 7 dogs, then so be it. Now that I have been there for several months, I find that it's not true. I don't want to take them all home. I love them all, and want them to be adopted into loving families...but, well, I get along better with some then with others.

There have been very few dogs I have seriously considered taking home with me. Usually someone else adopts them first, and I don't have to worry about it anymore. But there are two there now that I adore. It breaks my heart every time I go in back to the adoption area, and see them still in their cage.

Frankie and Shorty are eight years old, sisters, and they are best buddies. They live at the Lincoln County Humane Society. They do everything together, and they totally have each others backs. They don't like other dogs...but that is because whoever it was that had them before trained them not too. They would be great guard dogs. Oh, and they are rottweiler/german shepherds. They spend all day chilling with each other, and they want to be adopted to the same home. Two for the price of one. It makes me sad that they are still there every week, but it also gives me hope, that the right person is just out there waiting. Whoever is going to bring these girls into their home needs a big heart. And a big home. Let's face it, these dogs are huge, and they sound a little ferocious when they bark. But they are lovely girls, who are so loving, and just want a place to hang their leashes. It's been my experience several times when I take them out for walks, that people say "whooooa, you are brave, they are huge!" I always, always reply, "but they are so nice. They are great dogs!" I implore them to look beyond the fact that they are huge dogs, and happen to be a breed that many people have put in a "too scary to have" category.

It's like pitbulls. All pitbulls aren't bad dogs, in fact, the pitbulls I have met at the shelter have been some of the sweetest dogs ever. They just have this stigma attached to them now, that makes most people stay far far away. Let's face it people.....pitbulls, rottweilers, etc, etc aren't born bad, horrible, mean dogs. It's the owners that are the problem, not the dogs. Plain and simple. You can't ostracize an entire breed of dog, and tell people they aren't allowed to own them. Doesn't that seem backwards? Shouldn't it just be that certain PEOPLE shouldn't be allowed to have dogs? Good lord, sometimes people let misguided opinions and fear go way way too far. You can't group one whole breed of dog together and say they are all bad, just like you can't group together whole countries and races of people. Pitbill and rottweiler puppies come into this world just like every other puppy, wanting to find a nice home and a nice family to belong to. Next thing you know, they have some crazy asshole for an owner, who is training them to attack other dogs to the death. Then they have to get muzzled everywhere they go, and are being banned from provinces. All they wanted was a nice squeaky toy, occasional belly rubs, and a bed to sleep in, and instead...this.

Anyway, back to Frankie and Shorty, the loves of my humane society life. My whole point is, don't judge a book by it's cover. Don't judge a shelter dog by it's previous owner. You know. Just look at these faces:


Shorty's all winking like, "yup, I'm as cool as she says!" . These lovely ladies are my buds, and I would love for them to find a nice place to call home. I would take them in a heartbeat, but my apartment is no place for two dogs like that. My parents, everyone else in my family, and most of the other people I have mentioned it to have said "umm, no way". Which, I can understand, because they are huge, and there are two of them. But they are sticking together like sisters oughta do, and I am confident that one of these days, someone is going to take a look at my girls, and say, "Frankie, Shorty...where have you been all my life??"

Conundrum

Sometimes, life moves along splendidly, allowing you to settle in, and kind of take a breather. It has never been my experience that these breather moments last too long. Something ALWAYS happens that puts me in a state again. If something talked, it would sound something like this: "you think you are soooo cool, trying to get a handle on your life. How dare you try to figure things out. Life wasn't meant to run smoothly!! Have you ever thought about this???"


Here's the thing. Approximately one month ago, I left a job that I loved loved loved. The work was interesting, but what intrigued me more was the people I got to work with. Smart, brilliant, lovely people. My contract ended for that job, and I was distraught. "How could this be ending so soon" I thought, "I'm not done learning here yet". But end it did.


Then I got another job. And I love it too. I love all the things I get to be involved in, and I love the people I get to work with. This job is putting me right smack dab in the centre of my community, and not much, I've discovered, is better than that. I miss the people I used to work with, but I don't miss the work I used to do. That kind of makes me think that maybe I was done learning at my old job, but I just didn't want to let go of the idea of being surrounded by so much brilliance.


In addition, I've also recently started another job, which I like, but I think might grow to love. This is adding to the problem.


Today my boss asked me if I would be interested in increasing my hours, "yes!" I said, "of course!!". So depending on the increase in hours, my week is going to start to be pretty damn full.


ONE hour after my boss asks me this, I get an email from one of the aforementioned brilliant people I used to work with. "Would you be interested", it said, "in potentially job sharing with me? Two days a week?" And in those two days a week, I would be making a whole lotta money.


The problem is, I can't do it all.


Break.


I also....want to be a writer. I've spent the last several years trying to convince myself that that is a dumb idea, and I'm not good enough, I can't make any money, yada yada yada, so I always push it away. But it still kept popping into my brain. "ever since you were in grade 4, and you wrote your first story, you've wanted to do it....why can't you at least try??"

So this year, I told myself, Okay, I'll try. If only to stop me from having this same argument with myself year after bloody year. So now that I"ve decided this, it consumes a lot of my free thinking time. An amount of time that is bordering on ridiculous. I want a room, with a desk, with books scattered everywhere, with maps on the wall, a huge globe, and pictures of my family and friends, and I want to write.


But I know for a fact, that if I decide to yes, take this job share, that I won't do it. I just won't. The job share job will take up a huge amount of my free time, and I will be stressed about it. It will consume days, and it will consume nights. I will dread going in some days because all I'll want to do is stay home in my comfy pants, and a write a lovely story. So why would I take it? That's the conundrum. I need some stones to drop on a scale.


On the one hand, there is the money. God knows I need money, and I could buy a lot more shoes. And clothes. And there are the brilliant people again...I would be surrounded by them, learning from them. Plus, can I ever really be a successful writer?


On the other hand. Money smoney. That is the worst reason to take a job ever, and I'm not that motivated by shoes and clothes. Sure I"d like more, but when it comes right down to it, I don't care about them that much. And I would love to be surrounded by those people again, but maybe the time has come that being surrounded by them in a work capacity is just not meant to be. Perhaps I can learn from them by eating lunch with them on occasion. And maybe I can be a successful writer, if I really do try.


I have this thing about moving backwards in life. If I have been there, done that, I don't usually want to go there, and do that again (this applies only to certain situations). I also have an odd relationship with fate. What's meant to be is meant to be. Lord knows my mother has drilled that into my head enough. "Everything will work out the way it's supposed too". Every time she says it, I just want to roll my eyes, and be like 'yesss, but what if??" The thing is....things always have worked out. But I can't decide if things work out because they were meant too, or if life just has a pay it forward thing going on. I generally try and be the most decent human being I can, and sometimes I think things that go my way are just the result of the universe's appreciation that I'm a kind individual. Or maybe that is ridiculous. I don't know.


Anyway, that is the conundrum. I have approximately 3 days to make a decision on this. I honestly just don't know what to do.

I'm an Old Lady

So, it is 10 to 10 on Tuesday night. I am tired. I have been up since early this morning, and haven't been sleeping too well because my upstairs neighbour has decided that 12:30 am is a good time to construct a bookshelf (or whatever the heck she is doing up there with a hammer). Despite all this, it strikes as odd and a little bit worrisome that I am so extremely tired. When did I become an old lady? I told myself I"m going to attempt to stay up and watch Boston Legal, which is on till 11. 11 is not late. Yet the thought of not being in bed before 11 is leaving a little bit apprehensive. I really am a old lady.

I've been noticing many things lately that have indicated that I better take drastic measures, or I'll be screwed by the time I"m actually 80.

First off, I have such a nighttime routine for myself, I'm shocked it doesn't include taking out and cleaning my dentures. It is a routine that ends in reading for a half an hour at least. Don't read? Can't sleep. Oy.

I've also been noticing an influx of grey hair lately. That is scary, and I become completely panicked every time I see one. I rip it out of my head, not caring how many other hairs come out with it. Is this normal when you are 24? It could be stress related, but even then, I don't think I'm stressed enough that my hair should be turning white mid strand.

Maybe my hair is just reacting how it sees fit. "Clearly, we are on the head of a 80 year old...why else is she yawning at 9:30 at night? She also makes a noise like "argggg" when she stands up sometimes "ohh my back, my knee". We should be turning white right about now"

Also, at work the other day, my boss said, "I have officially joined the old farts club, I now take my garbage out the night before garbage day". If taking out your garbage on the night before garbage day means an instant pass into the old farts club, I apparently joined a long, long time ago. Is taking out the garbage early something only old people do, and I haven't even noticed?

The thing that worries me the most out of all this is the grey hair. Really...it's just not right.

Alright, I've made it until 10 o'clock....one more hour, and I'll be snooooozing away. Provided the upstairs neighbour doesn't continue with her Bob Villa ways.

Morning...Well, afternoon ponderings

I was thinking this morning about irrational fears. Those completely redonkulous things that happen that make you want to all of a sudden scream at the top of your lungs and run away? I don't know about other people, but this happens to me more often then I'd like.

Like the other day. I went to take out the garbage. We live in an apartment building, so there is a communal garbage area. It is contained to several covered garbage bins in a fenced in area. Back I go, garbage in hand. I open the door, lift up the lid to throw in my garbage, and there is a giant rat. It was one of those moments where I wanted to run like a mofo, screaming at the top of my lungs, but at the same time, the logical part of my brain was going "ummm it's a garbage area, and it's a rat. These two things go together. The rat is not hurting you in anyway, nor is the rat even trying to scare you. He/she is just trying to eat." Still, an urgent need to scream. I managed to hold the scream in, and compromised by just chucking the garbage and running like a mofo. The whole thing was silly, but that's just my point. Some fears are so completely irrational, and I can acknowledge this, yet that doesn't stop them from being scary.

Which leads me to another fear. Kathy Bates.

I'm sure Kathy Bates is a lovely lady, and my fear of her is clearly a testament to her calibre as an actress, but holy lord, if I ever ran into Kathy Bates on the street somewhere, there is no doubt in my mind, that I would take one look at her, and run screaming in the opposite direction. Something about the movie Misery, will haunt me for the rest of my life. I'm sure the fact that my mother suggested it as a scary movie idea, when me and my best friend were like...11, did not help matters. And I sure haven't watched it again since then. Now, anytime I see Kathy Bates in anything, regardless if she is playing the nicest, little old lady you ever did see, I picture the scene above, and it is all shot to hell. Congrats Kathy Bates, on what might possibly be the best acting job ever.

Other irrational fears include: random objects falling on my head from far up above me, being pecked in the eye by a bird, and sneezing when I'm all alone in the house and hearing someone say "Bless you" (I don't know where this one came from, but I thought of it one day several years ago in a "wouldn't that be scary" kind of way, and now, every time I sneeze when I'm alone, I have to listen intently to hear if anyone says anything before I can continue with my life).

I realize all this makes me a little crazy. And I've come to terms with that.

Yup, I like pondering things.

Recently, I have had the pleasure of being able to walk to work everyday. Who knew such a simple thing could be so very enjoyable? It starts my day out in such a lovely way. I mean, instead of getting in my car, and getting annoyed at other people's inability to drive well, I can simply put on my Ipod, and lalala all the way to work.

This daily jaunt makes me happy for several reasons:

1) The crossing guard lady I pass on the corner everyday. She is so friendly, and she just makes me happy. I have started not putting my Ipod on until I have passed her, so that I can say a daily "hello, how are you?" Friendly people are lovely, and seen as there are so few of them around these days, I appreciate the friendliness immensely.

2) I get to be in the sun. A large portion of my day is still spent in front of a computer screen, or hunched over a desk, so the walk to work, soaking in the vitamin D, is quite nice. Even when it was cold and snowy, that little bit of fresh air everyday, did wonders to clear the head.

3) The same people are always walking. It's not like I know these people, or likely that I ever will know them, but there is some amount of comfort in seeing them everyday. They create a kind of balance. "Ahhh guy in sunglasses with skinny jeans...there you are". I never necessarily say "hi" to them, nor do they to me, but there is a kind of connection in a, "isn't walking great?" kinda way.

4) I notice things. Some things I"m glad I'm noticing, some things I'm not, but nevertheless, it's lovely to just be aware of what is in this world. Whether it's, "oh, that tree got trimmed", or "the construction on the gazebo is almost done", I like that I have the time to notice and take it all in.

Walking around in my community every day makes me feel more a part of it, and something I have come to realize lately is just how important a sense of community is to feeling like you belong somewhere. The more and more I become a part of that community, the more and more I realize just how lovely it actually is.

Ponderings

Lately, I've been feeling kinda....conflicted. I feel like I want to be anywhere but here, yet at the same time, I feel like I want to be nowhere but here. I am starting to carve out a kind of lovely existence for myself here, after much hammering and chiseling. In many ways, I feel like this is where I am meant to be. But parts of me still crave adventure. I want to take off, go anywhere, and just roam free for a while. Discover new things, meet new people...learn some new lessons about life. It is these two extremes, and I haven't figured out yet if somewhere in there, there is a happy medium, or if I have to choose one or the other. Can I be a homebody and a nomad at the same time? Can I go out, have an adventure, then come back here and have everything be the same as when I left? I suppose somewhere along the line, something has to give. I just haven't figured out what that something is yet.

Writing Sample # 2

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I was a "Niagara Voice" during my last year of high school, and I got to write six opinion pieces for the local paper. It was a really great experience...although I will be forever haunted by that horrid picture.

Writing Sample

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This is an article I wrote when I was working at the Western Gazette. It was the very first interview I ever did, and I was so nervous. But the interviewee (Gail Bowen), was incredible nice, and the whole thing went really, really well!

Winter

The other day, I told my roomate I was going to kill winter. That is how much I hate it. I get a feeling of rage in my stomach, and it is incomparable to anything I have ever felt towards an actual person. Perhaps this is indicitive of me not getting angry enough, or perhaps it is a good thing. The fact of the matter is, I really really hate winter. And if I could somehow kill it, I would. I actually would like to go beat up the snow. Everytime I wake up and see more snow, I want to rip shit.

I feel like it is ruining my social life right now. Can't drive to that concert...it's snowing. Nope, not going out tonight, it's a blizzard. PLEASE JUST END. END NOW.

Nobody is ever in a good mood, they just walk around with this look on their face like, "shoot me now". People joke around with each other, "I"ve had about enough of this!". The thing is, they are telling the complete truth. It's complete truth, masked with a slight joking.

Anyway, all I'm saying is, it needs to end soon, and everyone will be a lot happier. And I can stop feeling as thought I"m going to kill everyone all the damn time.

Strong Women

It has never been my experience in life where I have been surrounded by strong women. Okay, wait, I take that back. It has never been my experience in life where I have been surrounded by strong women in a professional situation. The women in my personal, most specifically, my lady family members, are all women I have looked up to for my entire life, all for entirely different reasons. But that is another entry for another day.

In the workplace, I was never really surrounded by any women that made me think I could accomplish anything substantial. I mean, perhaps it was just the jobs I had, but for the most part, when I looked at the women I worked at up until about 8 months ago, I was left feeling a little bit needy. I was wanting a woman I could learn from, who could guide me, and show me that women can do anything men can do, and sometimes they can do it better. I'm not saying the women I have worked with in the past have not been special, a lot of them have been phenomenal in their own way. Whether it was incredible kindness, incredible humour, or incredible bitchiness, I have met more than my fair share of women I admire.

I guess what I was lacking was the expertise and the guidance of a motivated women. One who wants to change the world, and make the community she lives in a better place. I'm not saying that everyone needs to want to change the world, shit, that's a lot of work. Total seriousness. But when I did meet one of those women, I was amazed. I adored her and her complete vision and genius. She was, and she is, someone I looked at, and thought, wow, I want to be her. So I met her, and I shared an office with her, and I learned from her.

What I learned from that whole process of meeting her, was that these motivated women are everywhere, you just have to look in the right places. And maybe my idea of a motivated women is someone elses idea of a crazy idealist. Who the shit knows. But now, I've positioned myself in a place where I am surrounded by these motivated women for a lot of my time. And all I'm saying is, they make me want to be a better, smarter person, and that's what I have been looking for.

I don't know if I"m articulating these thoughts accurately, they are after all, still stewing in my brain. So I guess it's to be continued....all I'm saying is, I'm grateful for these women at this point in my life, cause god knows when you are in your 20s you need all the guidance you can get.