A Puppy Update

I look like a goober

In April, Baxter got really sick and ended up costing me $3,000 in five days. More recently, Kyla got heartworm and cost us another couple hundred. Then yesterday, Baxter got seriously sick and I had to call out of work and rush him to the emergency vet's. The bill was yet another $700+.

The good news: Baxter was able to come home this morning at 7:30am (!!!!!) and has been recovering nicely. The reunion between him and I resulted in him knocking me on the vet floor and us knocking over the Caution Wet Floor sign. It's true love. When he got home, we reintroduced him to Kyla. They immediately ran around.

I'm so incredibly grateful that both pups are doing well, and seem to be getting healthier every day.

Because I'm a Huge Nerd

In honor of Cassie Mae's book bloghop, we're here to celebrate!

The question posed for this blog hop is: What is the nerdiest thing about you?

It could possibly be that secretly, I'm a gamer. Recently my household has gotten a Sega system (which I played growing up), an Atari, and my Nintento DS's.

I aspire to soon own a Wii so I can play Just Dance whenever I want. (You can come play, too!)

I've spent many hours in front of the TV these last few weeks.

Outside of those things, I'm also obsessed with my dogs (I did the entire A to Z Challenge about Baxter), and I may or may not have a small obsession with The Hunger Games. (Which means, yes, I do have a Mockingjay pendant as well as a District 12 bracelet.)

I would love to also add that I'm a book junkie and laugh out loud at parts, and sit crying on my couch at 2 a.m. sometimes, but I feel like I'm not alone in this.

Kyla

I'd been considering getting another dog for Baxter for awhile. He loves other dogs, like a lot. Then I was with Damien, and he wanted a dog, and he pulled into the parking lot at my job and I met this little brown pit bull.

Kyla (front) and Baxter (standing)

She was so beautiful, the wind literally slipped from my chest.

Because we weren't sure how Baxter would handle her, or her him, we agreed it'd be a trial run and took her home. They met outside in a field, they sniffed, then continued to pee on the surrounding bushes.

In the next couple of days, Kyla ended up with a puncture wound in her ear from a fight, and she continued to try to eat Baxter randomly. Because it wasn't consistent fighting, I didn't worry. They seemed to get along (one would lay on one side of me, the other on the other). Finally, I got brave, went to my landlord, and she said, "You're a good tenant. I trust your decisions, even if it's a pit bull."

Damien and I broke up about three months ago. Though Kyla was to be his dog, he left her with me without any of her medical history.

I refer to her as the little tramp, as the red-headed-step-child, as the bad dog, etc. But she sleeps on my bed every night, and though she's the smallest person in the household, she manages to take up a majority of the bed. Baxter has been demoted to the floor (though pressed up against the bed, and my arm slings off the bed around him).

I finally had some extra money, and took them to a vet today. I had to respond "I don't know any of her medical history," and was almost immediately frustrated.

They like to lay together.

"What are you here for?" he asked.

"A heartworm test and vaccines."

I held Kyla as he drew blood. Because I haven't known her long, I wasn't sure if she'd try to bite either of us, but she just stood and allowed it to happen. Within minutes, we got the test back.

It was positive.

It was hard to breathe.

In two weeks we're getting the medication to try to start combating the heartworms. The treatment could kill her. Running could kill her. Moving too quickly could kill her. She could very well die before the treatment gets here (I'm hoping this statement is an overreaction).

I'm bracing for the following weeks hoping that everything will turn out okay. I'm bracing for the chance it may not, and my little family may be back down to Baxter and me. I'm bracing for how Baxter may respond if things go wrong. I'm bracing for the risk that Baxter may have also been exposed.

She really loves guarding the bathroom when I'm in it...
Weirdo.

It's doubly hard because in all the ways Baxter is a really good dog, Kyla is a really bad dog (he doesn't go potty in the house, she does. He doesn't steal food, she does, etc). And in the ways Baxter is a really bad dog, Kyla is a good dog (She always comes when calls, he wags his tail and continues ignoring me. She plays in the water, he stands to the side, etc.) The two balance each other out. They've stopped separating their food and water and started drinking out of the same dishes, sometimes at the same time together.

I don't know what's going to happen and it terrifies me.

At this point, I'm just praying for the best.

The Day I Stopped Being Afraid of Victoria's Secret Employees

In case you've forgotten,
this is what I typically wear

On Thursday, July 25, I traveled to Portland to go to the DMV for the third time that week. It turns out, to be a journalist, it sometimes requires driving. As such, I need a working car, and a driver's licence. Only, mine had been expired since my birthday...in April.

The first time I'd gone, I'd needed a birth certificate. (Hard to do because my mother is unreliable, etc.) So I got my birth certificate, and went back a few days later with a co worker. This time, because I don't have a lease, and haven't registered my car to the town I'm living in, and all my mail goes to my PO Box, I don't exist as a person....so I was rejected again and handed affidavits for people to fill out stating that I do, in fact, live in Maine.

Finally, at my third time at the DMV, I got my picture taken, proved my vision is worthless without my glasses or contacts, and boom! I now have a temporary licence while I wait for mine to come in the mail. (For those keeping count, I've now had licences in Michigan, Massachusetts, and now, Maine!) In celebration of FINALLY being a real person again, I went to the mall to buy a new bra.

I have this thing with Victoria's Secret. I love their bras and undies, however, I'm always SUPER awkward about going into their store. As always, I stood outside for an extra second, took a deep breath, convinced myself I'm an adult, and walked through into the land of pink.

Somehow, though I'd been waiting for it all year, I'd managed to miss the semi annual sale. There was still a small bin of bras left, so I looked at them and went to the fitting room. (Ladies, if you've never tried on anything at Victoria's Secret, you need to. I am not kidding. Their mirrors just make you want to take off your clothes.) So I took off the dress I was wearing and tried on the bras that were the same size as the one I had on...only...something didn't feel right.

In the fitting rooms, they have service buttons, and the woman who'd opened the door for me told me to push it if I needed "sized". Well, it turns out I did. After about a minute of debating with myself (I didn't have any pants on, I'd only worn a dress in...etc) I pushed the little button, panicked because I was literally standing there in a bra and underwear, and then she came in and agreed, I was totally wearing the incorrect size. Not only the band size, but cup as well. I had to go down two band sizes and up a cup.

From that moment on, she came to my fitting room several times with different bras to try on, a tape measure, etc. She didn't look at my body like I was disgusting. She didn't shame me or make me feel like an idiot for being uncomfortable in my own skin, or not truly understanding how to pick out a proper bra even though I'm 25 years old. She was professional and incredibly helpful. She even went so far as to find me which bras I wanted to buy.

And on that day, I bought two new bras :)

I understand that for many women, this sort of thing is easy, but for me, it wasn't. I'm not used to wearing girl clothes. I'm not used to talking about boobs, or bra sizes, or allowing strangers to see me mostly naked. But the woman who helped me never once made me feel like an idiot, or some sub par female for needing/asking for help.

I'm not going to lie, it felt pretty empowering to finally get a bra that hugs me rather than hides me.

Living the Dream

My first day of a big girl job apparel 

It's 7am and my alarm is going off. For the last several months, it'd be typical for me to roll out of bed around 9am or even as late as 11am. No longer. I get away with snoozing two to three times. Then. I HAVE to get up.

My hair is sticking up in all directions. The make-up I couldn't wash off my face last night attaches itself just under my sleep filled eyes. I snap my fingers twice to avoid talking for another few minutes, and Baxter and Kyla meet me at the door to go outside.

I shower, eat breakfast, debate on putting on make-up again, dress, pet the dogs, make sure I have everything: voice recorder, notebooks, pens, pictures of Baxter to put on my desk, wallet, keys, cell phone, etc, kiss the dogs goodbye, and then I'm out the door. Most mornings, I make one stop: the coffee shop, where I'll spend $2-$4 on either coffee or an iced caramel macciato. Usually by noon, I start shaking and forgetting how to make the letter "D".

My first day, I worked over ten hours. My second day was somewhere around 9. By day three, I passed out at 5pm and woke up at around 7:30pm. It's been a challenging and exhausting week, but it's been amazing to see this:

Two of these FRONT PAGE stories
are mine!

If your theory of Living the Dream is getting paid to write, I feel like I've made it. I work 40 hours a week. I get assigned articles, and get to cover ones I think are interesting. I get paid to write. Not to stock shelves, cash people out, get yelled at for ID people who look under age.

I feel like I'm on top of the world right now.

Just you know, a little tired.

Getting To Know You

It's been awhile since I participated in a blog hop, and because of another author, I stumbled across the Getting To Know You blog hop, and I figured why not?

Getting To Know You Blog Hop

How do you remember your first kiss?

I was a little bit of what you'd call a mouth-slut as a small child. I chased boys on the playground, and if I caught them, their punishment was usually a kiss. When riding the bus home, I'd kiss boys under the seat. However, they were always pecks on the cheek (well, typically. I think in second or third grade, I graduated to lip kisses.)

As I got older, we began playing more intense rounds of Truth or Dare. I can't remember if I got dared, or if he got dared, but either way, we were dared to ::GASP:: french kiss! Soon enough, his mouth was on mine, and his tongue felt like licking a slug. We jerked away, and promptly went to the bathroom to brush our teeth and get each other's tastes out of our mouths. 

I waited a few years before trying again.

What was your first favorite love song?

Oh, wow. This is a hard one. I've always been surrounded by music, and I've always gone around liking and unliking songs. It's hard to remember my first (perhaps, Damn, I wish I was your lover? Because I got to sing the word "Damn" without getting in trouble?).

What's the first thing you do when you begin writing for the day?

Probably clean or organize something to avoid writing. Play on facebook, gmail. twitter pet the dogs, realize Baxter's ears need cleaned. When I sit down to write, I avoid it for at least another hour.

Who's the first writer who truly inspired you to become a writer?

Kerry Cohen and Zu Vincent, I think. I met them both at AWP. Kerry is the author of Loose Girl, and she is just so brave, and blunt, and amazing. She's not afraid of the mistakes she's made in her life. I was humbled just being in the room with her.
Zu (author of The Lucky Place) on the other hand has helped guide me through this crazy process. She read a few pages of a manuscript and told me to keep pressing on.

I know there have been TONS of other writers who have influenced and helped me, but those two rocked my world.

Did the final revision of your first book have the same first chapter it started with?

No way in hell. God, my first chapter was AWFUL. So bad in fact, I asked my sister to read/edit it for me, she got three pages in and emailed me saying, "Please, please don't make me read any more of this."

For your first book, which came first: major characters, plot, or setting?

Setting, I think. Sometime in the future. Then the main character, and the love interest. He was always there.

What's the first word you want to roll off the tip of someone's tongue when they think of your writing?

Epic.

  

Streaked Mountain Old and Young

Billy, on top of the world

A friend I'd lost touch with over the winter got a hold of me this week, inviting me for coffee and an adventure. However, the adventure started at 7:30am, and I'm a slow riser. Ugh.

He drove us to Streaked Mountain, and we spent the next hour or so hiking one of the steepest mountains I've hiked. (I actually lost my footing one of the times and managed to twist my ankle. So graceful :) ). When we got to the top, I saw a bush. "What's that?"

"Wild blueberries," he answered.

"Can I eat them without dying?" (The entire time I was thinking about Hunger Games.)

"Probably," he said.

Me on top of the world.

And like that, I grabbed a few and popped them in my mouth. It was an explosion of sweet. We met a hiker along the way who stopped at each bush and ate a few. I decided this was a good goal to have next time around. (Perhaps with a bottle of water to rinse them off first.)

Days after the adventure, I was sitting in the newspaper office and mentioned hiking. I was asked (rather ferociously) if there were blueberries. I said yes and that I'd eaten some. The woman slumped with jealousy.

That same day, I made my voyage for the Real People column and interviewed a 98 year old woman. She's from the area, and used to go to school via horse and wagon. She told me about her brother dying in WWII (he was only 23, and very, very handsome). Closer to the end, she talked about hiking Streaked Mountain when she was younger, and eating the wild blueberries.

My mouth fell open. "I just did that."

"Really? Were they wonderful?" she asked.

I recounted the way they tasted, and how it was my first time ever to the mountain.

As I left, holding my notes from the interview, I was washed with a million feelings. I am 25. She is 98. Yet, chances are we'd stood in the same place, overlooking the surrounding mountains, perhaps even eating from the same blueberry bush.

I have every intention of hiking Streaked tomorrow morning with another friend, this time, knowing that I carry a 98 year old's memories with me. I'll be sure to eat some blueberries for her.

Wild Blueberries!