More aspirations

There were a couple things I left off of last post because it was getting too long, so I thought I'd add them today. I can't leave cause of the dog (and it's really cold out and I don't have the car), and I'm not quite in the mood to continue fiction writing again. I'm kind of bored.

And what's with dogs, anyway? At like 7:15 she decides she wants out of her kennel and proceeds to whine until we let her out. Take her outside, feed her, she runs around for maybe half and hour, and then goes back to sleep under David's desk... could you have just slept until now anyway? I'm waiting for the time she'll finally sleep through the whole night. It really stinks getting up in the middle of the night to take the dog out.

As far as that goes, I can kind of see both ways now. I can imagine keeping her, although that still bothers me because of the commitment of time and money and so on. It doesn't seem logical. I could also still give her away, although I might come to miss her presence... and feel guilty about giving her away when so many people just gush over her. Really, the way I wouldn't miss her would just be a job... getting me out of the house. And I would like to do that anyway.

She's nice enough, for a dog.

But enough of that. It's only day five.

There are two more things I've been thinking about, and one is a bit of a joke. The first one is David's idea. He thinks I should write a kid's book on how not everyone is a dog person.

David is a bit of a cool guy. He takes nothing personally and is able to joke even over things that might be aimed at him... like me wanting to rehome the dog.

So yeah, kids love dogs and a lot want a puppy... this book would be more of a cautionary tale... not everyone is a dog person. Like I said in the past, I liked horses just like all the other little girls... but I never want one. I knew better. Should have known better in this case too. I'd like to rehome Luna somewhere with kids that want to play with her... that maybe we could visit from time to time. Dogs are better when other people have them. Jacuzzis too, apparently.

And the other thing is boxing. Yeah, I know, I've talked about boxing before. I even would punch up the bag at Anytime Fitness from time to time. And then the summer came around and both of us were out of a job and I wanted to go on RAGBRAI anyway, so more of my exercise time was focused on biking... so I froze my Anytime Fitness account and eventually it expired. I also live somewhere else now, and though Ames has an Anytime Fitness, I'd have to use a car to get there. But I did bike to Mom and Dad's at one point when the weather was good and use my "little" brother's punching bag. Tore up my knuckles, but it was fun. Heh, all I was mad about that I kept thinking about when punching was that I was a bum who didn't know what to do with herself.

Well, my brother gifted me said punching bag for Christmas (I think Mom and Dad wanted it out of the house too) and I want to hang it in the basement. The basement should be a good workout area for a while, as it's pretty low on the reformatting priority list. Also, we have a TV with built in DVD player and drug the living room carpet down there.

And then Mom got me an "Empower Boxing Boot Camp" set that includes weighted gloves, a weight ball, a jump rope, and a bunch of woman-based boxing-based exercises on DVD. I'm kind of excited. The only thing that really makes me want to work out is stuff that seems to have a point beyond just burning calories. Swimming is fun, rock climbing is fun, sports are fun, boxing is fun, martial arts are fun... all that stuff.

I told Nathan my goal was to be able to beat him up by next Christmas. Unlikely, but it should be fun to try.

New Year's Resolutions and all that.

As typical with the coming of a new year (since the apocalypse didn't happen and all), we feel obligated to perform some sort of life review and make resolutions for the next year. Cause we probably bombed the ones from last year, if we even remember them. I know I don't. And also I didn't make my Goodreads goal of 52 books. In some ways it was a weak goal. That's just one book a week when with some books, like the Uglies trilogy, once I got into them, I read one a day. Also the Goodreads thing only counts new books you read and I reread a lot of my favorites. I think I reread the entire Mercy Thompson series again. And probably Scarlet Pimpernel. Stuff like that. I'm still a Goodreads failure.

Oddly enough, I am in a unique position this year. I live in Ames, have my needs met, and have no job. So I could potentially do a number of things. I have the freedom to not work at all, though I would feel like a colossal waste of space and resources. I could write instead of work, though although I like writing, I don't know how long it would take to actually producing something meaningful... like an actual book or published piece. David is all cool with that, but... I don't know. I'm not sold. I'm never going to give up writing. I'm just not sure when/if I'm going to make it a priority. I was thinking either I'd become an author someday, or become something else and write about it on the side.

So what do I want to do this year? Well, thanks to the *ahem* educational last week, there are a few things I want to do.

Mind, I'm not making resolutions yet. That sounds a bit more intense. More, I am reflecting on some things I would like to do. Like I said previously, it'd be nice to start using my time to help people out, i.e. volunteer. Ideally, I think I'd want to volunteer at a couple places, maybe one for a couple days a week and then something on Sunday at church. It'd also be nice to have a flexible part time job as well. Like, really part time, maybe twenty hours a week or so. And that way I'd make my own spending money (cause I really don't like spending his), I'd be able to help out with the house remodeling costs, and support one or two kids from World Vision.

I've been doing a lot of beating myself up recently, first for letting the dog thing go through when I could've said no, then for not liking puppies because everyone likes puppies, and then for wanting to rehome said puppy. Because only some sort of hater does that. I actually had to be like, "Actually, I still like my dreadlocks!" because I felt the need to reaffirm one of my other controversial decisions to make sure I wasn't just a horrible decision maker.

A children's book called "Those Darn Squirrels" defines a grump as someone who hates puppies and pie. The joke currently is that I'm only a half-grump (I still like pie).

Anyway, now I'm feeling guilty because it took owning said puppy to make me think outside of myself enough to consider volunteering. Previously, literally just like three weeks ago, I would have been "Oh, I don't want to work for no money when the money would be really handy... maybe when we're better off." And now I realize that I've been wasting my time and if it is suddenly devoted to feeding, walking, and picking up the poop of an animal that repays me by letting me pet her and shedding on my jeans, I discover how much time I actually have... and consider how it could be used to do something that mattered.

I'm not sure where I would obtain the very-flexible very part-time job. I tried to be part-time at Panera and it wasn't flexible at all. I would want a job that I could go to, work at, and then forget about it until next time I had to go in. Nothing that would stress me out outside of work. Although I am very easy to stress out, apparently.

I've learned a lot about myself.

However, those plans won't work, at least for a while. Either we give the dog away at the end of the month and I can get to it, or I would have to wait until she is older. The maximum amount of time you can keep a puppy in her kennel during the day (no access to bathroom facilities) is her age in months plus 1 (Luna is two months, so three hours max) up to a maximum of six hours (adult). A lot of jobs tend to want you for a bit longer than that. And if you plan on being gone longer than that, you'll have to get someone to come by and take the dog out. Supposedly once they are house-trained and trained not to chew on everything, you don't have to keep them in the crate (although they still can't really let themselves out). That stage will at least be after teething, which is somewhere between three months and eight months. A long time to cage the dog every time you want to go out.

If, for whatever reason, we don't keep the puppy, there are still some things I'd like to continue. And at this point I'm leaning towards not, but it is only day four of my month. I like the dog well enough, and I think I'd like her better in someone else's house. Preferably someone with kids who will love running around the house with her instead of feeling the need to batten down the hatches. But if we don't keep Luna, I would still 1) like to go on walks. Maybe not in 10 degree weather like today, but I enjoyed being outside with David just strolling around and talking. Yes, having a pet will galvanize you into doing it consistently, but I'm fairly certain people can walk without having to pull/be pulled by a dog. 2), I would still like to feel the need to do something. To be active. To not spend all my time on computer games. There is a world out there and I want to get out in it. And 3), I would still like the feeling of closeness with David. That was bit rocky recently, but the overall effect of having an animal in the house has either been me relying on him for dealing with her (I don't have to do it alone), or me having his attention in spite of her (maybe I'm a bit possessive?).

I'm such a half-grump.

I am an emotional basketcase...

...and I hate myself for it.

As it goes, I thought long and hard about the dog, wrote a manifesto on it, and concluded that I didn't want a dog.

David decided to stand firm and say "two years at the least." I proceeded to have a breakdown, feeling like he was choosing the dog over me and forcing me to care for an animal I didn't like and so on. Thankfully for everyone involved, I forgave him by the end of the next day. It was one frigid night though.

However, I still haven't agreed to the two years thing. I have attempted to say "give me a month to try it out," and he is willing to reopen discussion at that point. The two years thing is so I would know what it is to have a dog... not just a puppy. You think puppies are all cute and stuff? I thought puppies were just smaller dogs, the way kittens are just smaller cats... but cats come housetrained. Puppies are a royal pain in the butt. So I understand that aspect.

So in an attempt to give myself a break from coming up with more convincing arguments against David and to give myself actually time to consider and pray and have a more solid case, I decided to give myself a month. I know she'll still be a puppy in a month, but the case isn't against Luna... it's against dogs and pets in general. Anything that can't live three days unattended I guess. And cost a lot of money.

However, even though I keep telling myself, "One month, one month, one month," I can't shut my stupid brain off. For the first part of the day I freaked out about having to keep her. David won't listen to me as long as I'm running on anxiety. He thinks that my emotions are preventing me from actually thinking clearly and prevent me from even considering liking her. He's probably right.

Then, for the middle of the day I relaxed a bit because I convinced myself that he'd listen to me in a month.

Now, for the latter part of the day, I'm freaking out because if I do convince myself and him to rehome her... would I regret it?

I apparently can't make up my mind.

My conclusion for getting rid of her is that we are spending a lot of time, money, energy, and effort on an animal. If we wanted to improve ourselves or think outside ourselves, there are other things we could do, such as volunteer work for the church. I could get a job and actually give to charity instead of just promoting giving to charity, aka put my money where my mouth is. And we could leave the house for more than a few hours at a time. We could re-devote attention to each other. And we could stop spending more money on her.

My conclusion for keeping her is that she has already helped me see things a lot differently (although I still don't see keeping a dog as a pet), she is adorably cute, and I would forever feel the shame and embarrassment of having a pet for a little over a month. "What happened to your dog?" "Oh, we gave her away because Linsey is a wuss." I'd disappoint the people who have seen her and the people who believe strongly in pets. Granted, by a year I'll probably be the only one who still thinks about it. And might never be able to watch certain movies again. And forever feel guilt about dog movies and such.

I still wish I'd never met her and never had this decision. But I am glad for some of the lessons I've learned. Such as, I should have been treating my real companion (David) better, investing my time in things that actually matter (not computer games), investing my money in things that matter, and there are other things we could get out and do... even just taking walks to reconnect.

I've been praying that if God thinks its for the best we keep the dog, he'd change my mind, and if he thinks its for the best that we rehome her, he changes David's mind.

I also wish I could just shut my brain down for the next month.

Also, I've been making goo-goo eyes at babies. And that is REALLY freaking me out.

Panic Attack

No words I say work. Nothing I do works. It's pretty much hell.

Breath. Let your stomach unclench.

Like a nightmare I can't wake up from.

Breath.

My options: Break myself. Force feed myself until my attitude changes into one that is entirely unsupported by my current opinions and logic. I'm feeling betrayed, anxiety, resentment. I don't know how to change those feelings because none of the things that led to them has changed. But I have to.

One day at a time. Forget about having a future. Just live in the moment, one day at a time. Forget about freedom. One day at a time. Aim for a day. Aim for a week. Aim for a month. And there is nothing beyond that.

I'm not a dog person. And I hate myself right now.

As if it wasn't bad enough...

I really question if I can do this. Every day. Last night I was a total wreck, partially cause I had tried to redirect the puppy to a chew toy like everything says to do when she was chewing on something else, she chewed on it for a moment, then out of nowhere bit my hand. It wasn't hovering near her or anything, just next to me as I sat at my chair. I was so upset. And then she tried to comfort me, probably not knowing why I was upset, just knowing I was. David took me out to eat and I was a mess. And then we came back and found she had separation anxiety and had pooped in her crate again.

David was annoyed/upset, so the puppy kept snuggling up to me while he cleaned out the crate. She could probably tell he was angry. He was already frustrated with her for making me cry.

So that actually ended on somewhat of a good note. She went outside when we took her, didn't cry much when we crated her for the night. She doesn't mind it at night and will sleep most of it. It isn't crying that wakes me up, it's her moving around and it only really wakes me up because I keep thinking "take them out when they wake up" and figure if she is moving around, she might be awake, and if she is awake, she might need to pee. And then she kennels again just fine (still need a treat to get her in there) and goes back to sleep.

Today, I took her out to the backyard for a bit and she messed around, a bit hyper. Then I took her for a walk. On some sections of the walk, she'll go along trying to sniff all the grass, grab sticks and seed pods, and otherwise just explore. If there are people, she'll go through some shy and then interested routines. Same with dogs with a little more on the shy. And then on other sections of the walk, maybe even coming back down a street we just went up, she'll get weird. She'll pull at the leash and keep pulling. We're trying to train her to stop it simply by stopping whenever she pulls. Then she'll sometimes keep looking around, like hearing something we aren't that takes all of her attention. Sometimes she'll keep pulling and jump forward and start whining and crying. Only today I think I really figured out what it was, clued by the separation anxiety. I crouched down and was like, "What? What is the matter with you?" and she scooted right in between my legs, trying to curl up to me. I think she's terrified.

Back inside after a quick trip out back, she started pooping on the rug. I interrupted her, but she didn't continue outside. Nervous maybe? So I put her in her kennel (without scolding, as it appears to not work with the potty training) to clean it up and she went berserk. I didn't want to let her out just because she was whining (she might get ideas), so I went in, got a book, and just sat there for a while. She was panting herself into a fit, clawing at the cage, chewing at the door, trying to dig out the bottom.

I kept talking to her, but it didn't seem to make a difference. I let her out after a little bit and she was hyper for a bit, settling down with the rawhide bone for a while. After a while, she'll either go back into the bedroom and sleep on David's sweatshirt or sleep here in the study. She's in the bedroom now. She never really goes into her kennel unless we tempt her in.

Looking back through the puppy book, I think we made a mistake. I didn't read the chapter on selecting one because by the time we bought the book, we already had one. But it says to take puppies that will come up to you, that like to explore, that are curious. Luna was timid, didn't come up to us. The previous owners talker her up for being "relaxed" and "calm" unlike other husky puppies. But I think she's broken.

Why do you just kick me while I'm down? Add another thing to the list of problems? I have to deal with a dog, who is also a puppy, who is also a husky, who is also timid. One of my favorite things about being an unemployed waste of space was that I could do whatever I wanted whenever I wanted. Christmas shopping on Main Street, biking over to Mom and Dad's to use their punching bag, walking to the mall...

And now my whole life is consumed by this puppy. I have to watch her feed her walk her take her out and get bitten and tugged and jumped and yelped at...

True pet owners would probably berate me for what I'm saying. People are like, "But it's so worth it!" or "I have to think of what's best for them!" and I just don't get it. So she grows up to a dog... is having a dog worth it? I don't know. What's best for her? Probably somebody other than me, someone who can actually love her and actually wants to invest the time.

David maintains this is going to be good for me. It's been really peachy so far.

As many options as anything else

Why why why why does there have to be multiple options for everything? There should be fact and people should be able to operate off of fact.

And I'm not talking options as potato chips options.

So I talked about how the Dog Whisperer is magic. In search of more information on my crazy hyper demon puppy, I've run into other articles saying that you can train without cruel devices like "choke collars" (which Cesar uses), you don't need to dominate the puppy because they know you are dominate: you control the food. Or, as read on a message board "Does not matter that a guy named Ceasar has a show and makes a whole lot of money training "alpha" philosophy - it is still not current with where training has evolved." Ugh, says who??? Seems like half the dog owners are asking for help and the other half think they know everything. Where has the "current state of training" evolved to? Shouldn't there be one way, the right way, proven by research? Or can we not really actually know how dogs work?

Worrying about if the techniques I'm using are the right ones has certainly messed with "calm-assertive" pose. Because Cesar can make dogs do what he wants in ten minutes and Luna doesn't do what I want. I try to stop her chewing the carpet and she tries to get back by attacking my fingers. If I'm taking her somewhere she isn't interested in going and she's hyper, it's all running and jumping and nipping and grabbing the leash.

And dang it, I'm crying again.

Calm-Assertive

As you know, if you are one of the five or so people who read this blog, I was freaking out. Majorly. I don't think I remember last time I freaked out so much. I was a total wreck. I still might be and just don't know it... no, it appears I can think about crying without crying. That's an improvement.

And to blame is the Siberian Husky puppy named Luna. I still get a quiver in my stomach sometimes thinking about her. But I've been over that. Although I am still trying to see the good in having a dog to take care of, I am at least now thinking that I might be able to do this. And what brought the change?

The Dog Whisperer.

Earlier today I stumbled over Cesar Millan's site while searching for something dog-related. That's how bad it is, every free moment I'm pouring over something that I hope will impart me with the magic ability to make this puppy do what I want. And after finding his site, I remember reading somewhere that someone said they had two submissive huskies and a happy family thanks to his show. So I started watching. And this guy is magic, serious magic. He seems to be able to walk into any situation of any sort of dog misbehavior and with some intuition and leader of the pack mojo and a "calm-assertive" energy projection, he seems to be able to have any dog sitting at his feet in under ten minutes.

And so apparently dog training is a lot about attitude. And I can muster attitude.

And also I've been informed that puppies do not always control your life forever. I'm really just waiting for the time she's housebroken and doesn't need to go like once every two hours or more.

And David appears to have no intentions of getting rid of her. Well, maybe we can be running companions or something.

I'm a worrywart.

And so here starts the saga of the puppy. And I'm a total mess.

Her name is Luna. She looks cute, doesn't she? And all I can do is worry. Right now, I worry about her chewing on the wrong things and where she's going to stay for Christmas, or if I'll have to spend my Christmas babysitting her. When she explores and tries to play, I worry about what she'll find. When she sleeps, I worry about her being awake and hyper when I need her to sleep later. And not to mention housetraining. I know, I'm a party pooper.

And as she ages, I will worry her shedding, about her getting away, about training her, about her destroying things out of boredom. And what I'll do with her when I have to go somewhere, or what we'll do with her while we're on trips? We've had her for two days, and I'm about to give myself an ulcer. I've also worked myself into a state where my emotions are on a bigger roller coaster than I can remember. I can be happy and then crying just like that.

David has thought about it for a while, but for me, it went from a conversation in which I thought we'd ruled puppies out to David coming home for lunch and calling the owner to the next day picking her up. I was brought into the discussion and then because of my pre-puppy worry, taken out of the discussion. I couldn't decide, so it was decided for me.

David thinks it will be a good thing. Caring for an animal will help make us less selfish, less living just for us... but I've got to admit, I rather liked living for myself. And maybe this will help us graduate toward kids.

A friend pointed out that it seemed weird to get a dog I don't want to get me to get kids I don't want.

I do trust David on this. However, I don't really trust myself. And I've cried twice in writing this. Really, I am crying just thinking about crying these days. And that awful school shooting makes me cry pretty much every time I think about it.

But it isn't all bad, really. I've just never had a puppy. She's only had four accidents (which might seem like a lot for two days, but we've been taking her out every one to two hours, so that is a LOT of overall... pottying). She's really good with meeting other dogs and people. She'll get hyper and like to chew, but after a short bit she usually calms down and eventually just chills or naps. She doesn't whine all night, just a little bit in the beginning. So she seems pretty good, for a puppy. I'm sure there are worse puppies. David rubs my back and tells me it will be okay and I try to believe him.

I'm kind of pathetic.

With Great Puppies Comes Great Responsibility

So, David is getting me a Siberian husky puppy for Christmas. And I'm beginning to wonder if there is something wrong with me.

I'm freaking out, really freaking out. We're bringing her home tonight and I'm worrying that the cage is too big for her, the backyard is unfenced if she tries to make a break during a potty break, housetraining, where she will be during Christmas with the family, etc. I'm getting an adorable puppy and all I can do is be like, "That will take all morning away. Will the puppy be okay without me for that long?"

I keep trying to reassure myself: other people have pets and can still live somewhat normal lives. Do they all have to come back to the house multiple times a day to let the puppy out?

Part of it is that I'm really scared about it inhibiting my ability to do things. All of a sudden, I have to worry about where the puppy is going to be and who is taking care of the puppy. Will she be okay when I go on that spring break trip? If David stays home, is coming back at lunch enough time to take care of her? Huskies love to run... what if she makes a dash for it during a potty break? How will we get her back? She doesn't know us yet.

And part of it is that I am worried about doing it wrong. What if I don't train her just right? What if I don't socialize with her just right? What if she doesn't love me? Will she feel abandoned or betrayed? Try to run away? Get picked up by animal shelter selling drugs to other dogs?

I have to wonder if I've got some deep-rooted issues. If I am freaking out this much about a dog, what will I do with the kids everyone keeps pressuring me to have? David is starting to act like getting a dog is some sort of training for me, a beginning step. I've read like five websites, browsed several books, asked questions, discussed issues, tried to think out every problem I could handle... and I'm still scared spitless.

By the way, we're thinking either Luna or Echo for a name.

My Life Is Where Dreams Go To Die

A particularly emo title. I didn't mean it that emo. Maybe at the time. No, it's more about the tendencies I have to dream and then get attached to said dream, and then stupid reality kicks in. Dang reality. So last post was on me wanting to fly. I managed to keep that dream alive for like a week. A week is a long time to deny reality. Well, maybe not for me...

On Friday of said week, I talked to two people who had been flying with private pilot's licenses. One was selling waaaay overpriced window hangings and it had been a hobby for her. She said it took like $8000 to get your private pilot's license because you had to rent the trainer and his plane.

Then later I talked to David's boss who had his license as well and he said you really need to have a purpose with it if you want to pursue it, or it's just an expensive hobby. But to go from private pilot license to being a commercial pilot, you need at least 1000 hours flight time. I'd NEVER be able to afford that short of buying my own plane, which really is just a different set of costs.

So I moped around a bit. Some dreams die harder than others. I was hoping this one would last until after I like actually got to fly once. And then I thought of joining the military again. In college it seemed a good way to save money to join the National Guard. Family talked me out of it. I know the Marines are the most hard core, hence the Guard. No offense.

This time, I was searching the Air Force website (they ranked easier than several of the others as well) and saw Pilot as a listing. Minimum requirement: Bachelor's degree. Hey, I've got that. But I texted my brother again (as a Marine, he has strong opinions on women in the military) and said,
Me: I'm not allowed to join the air force, right?
Nathan: Gross
Me: Only way to learn how to fly and make money instead of spend tons.
Nathan: Gross
Me: Well, in that case, I don't think I'll be able to do it.
Nathan: Lindsey (I assume this spelling was from his auto-correct. They don't like me.). If you only knew how terrible and not a place for a lady this is.

Eh, I'm not a lady. But I get what he's saying. Sort of. And I bet the Air Force wouldn't let me keep my dreads. They say they let girls keep their hair (which seems like a double standard, if you ask me), but I've always seen the girls wear it in tight buns. My hair doesn't do tight buns. It actually doesn't even go up very well yet. I mostly just use headbands.

It's just so hard to see an opportunity that takes almost anyone (though I'm sure they don't let "almost anyone" pilot) and guarantees employment and would give me the hours and qualifications I need and the commercial airlines love to get pilots from the Air Force. In West Des Moines we'd see the fighter jets fly over once or twice and month and they look awesome.

Yeah, I probably wouldn't like the military. The deployments and the constant claim on your life for years and the orders and the obsession with how well you make your bed and so on. It isn't a life for everyone. But I wouldn't ever stay in it for life and it just bugs me that such an obvious way to meet and end (for a host of things, not just flying) would be denied me... and not that they are blocking me out because I'm a woman, but my friends and family are blocking me out of it because I'm a woman.

Being a girl can suck.

I've always looked up to Amelia Earhart...

I have a new career desire! And if you think my career desires don't go anywhere, think again. I wanted to be a mechanic and became an oil change tech. Not the same thing? No, you're right, it isn't. However, being an oil change tech showed me I probably wasn't going to be keen on the whole mechanic thing. For one, that's back to school. For two, you mess up a car and it costs hundreds to thousands of dollars, and for three, I thought cars fit together like a puzzle with everything in the right spot, but it turns out as often as not either the engineers designed something that no sane mechanic would ever design or the piece rusted on or there are like five other pieces in front of the one you want and you have to remove them all to get to it. Basically, cars end up being a pain. And I discovered this without having to go to school for it, and learned to change my oil and replace my wipers and air filter to boot.

So, now I just need to figure out the halfway step for my next career desire, which is... flying! Yes, I might want to be a pilot. Might cause I don't know. I like flying well enough, although customs get annoying after a while. The starter place for this is a discovery flight, which is where you pay a little airplane service like Hap's Air operating out of a little airport like the Ames one. You give them fifty bucks, they take you up, tell you a bit about flying, and maybe let you touch the controls. If you think this is epic, you try to find a way to pay for additional lessons, and if you hate it you don't come back. Not as many benefits as oil change, but not as much commitment either.

Now before I get into this, I might want to address an issue that would be a deterrent from liking to fly. No, it's not air sickness. No, I'm not afraid of heights  No, it's not if they let pilots have dreadlocks. Granted, I've never seen a pilot with dreadlocks, but the TSA will accuse you of something if you even look at the pilots these days, so I can't say I've seen quite enough to draw a dreadlock conclusion.

The possible deterrent to me liking to fly is that I hate to drive. Now, people who fly know it is nothing like driving. I figure that means it doesn't control like a car and I get that. But is it enough not like driving that I will like instead of hate it? I'm not sure. To be fair, it isn't the act of driving that I hate so much, it's driving around other cars and traffic lights and signs. There have been times I've enjoyed driving and they usually involved heading south on a 55mph highway with no other cars in sight and my radio blasting. And I think maybe flying will be like that. Although I wonder if you could get rock stations in the air. Or if they let you play them.

Granted, I am deathly afraid of taking off and landing. I've seen enough movies to know that can be rough if not deadly. Maybe Die Hard isn't a good thing to base flying experiences on. But that is where they teach you things. I have an inherent fear of being expected to do something I don't know how to do and failing as a result. Well, they wouldn't give me a pilot license if I couldn't land a plane. I hope.

So am I going to run off and be a pilot? And forge checks and date flight attendants and become the James Bond of the skies? Not yet. And probably not the second question. Catch Me If You Can makes being a pilot seem glamorous.

You know what seems glamorous? This picture from Hap's Air website.

Grocery Stores

Does anyone else find grocery stores intimidating?

Oh, it isn't all grocery stores. HyVee is so wide and bright and has a huge frozen food section. But as I don't frequent grocery stores... well, try to avoid frequenting grocery stores... I'm not entirely comfortable in them. Now, back when David and I first moved to West Des Moines, we would try to go grocery shopping once a month. As we both hated it, we'd go together so neither of us got stuck doing it alone. And the "once a month" thing was really more "we haven't had food in the fridge for a week and should probably stop eating out to make up for it" thing.

So on Sunday after church, we'd drive to ALDIs and pick up everything we could imagine. ALDIs is a no-nonsense store with lots of cheap off-brand stuff and some cheap off-brand stuff. What they lack in selection, they make up for in bulk and price. It's like a Sam's Club thrift store. But in ALDIs, everyone has their cart and they start at the beginning and slowly cruise through all the aisles, picking up everything as they go to finally get to the end where they check out, all in a no-nonsense fashion. I easily get bored with David scanning the eggs and milk section and run down to see if I need tortillas or not. But really, the only thing intimidated about ALDIs is getting in the way of all the other no-nonsense people who are there to get the price, although some don't think it's worth the wait at the line. ALDIs is so no-nonsense that they only have like two employees, so if there is a spill, you're down to one register. And then the people in line start to shuffle and think that waiting in line is nonsense and the single cashier is trying to get them through line so fast you practically get launched out the other end.

Hope you brought your debit card, cause they don't take credit. Try to pull that one and watch the person behind you explode.

Well, now I don't go grocery shopping. The few times I rouse myself to think up something for supper, I just go and get the few things I need. I have surprisingly no imagination when it comes to cooking. You may think that odd about an imaginative individual like myself, but just remember that when I eat out, I eat pretty much the same thing every time. Like if we went to Noodles and Co, I'd get steak strogonoff. I don't even have to look at the menu, I know that. McDonalds, I'd get a chicken sandwich. Ok, yeah, there are a few options, but I'm still getting a chicken sandwich. I am the same person who ate a quesadilla at the dining center every day for lunch my entire first semester of college.

So, when I finally decided what to cook, and those being the days that I didn't close at Valvoline, I'd stroll down to HyVee, or just stop there after work. They were right across the street. Now, while ALDIs is cheap, HyVee is probably one of the most expensive grocery stores I know of. However, HyVee was down the street and ALDIs was like a twenty-minute drive. And HyVee has like everything. I'm not sure how a grocery story can seem inviting, but you walk in HyVee and you see Starbucks and their little sitting area, and fruits, and fresh-cut flowers, or the other side with their colorful displays and the wood trim of their organic hippie food section. Or even the other entrance where you walk in and see every type of alcohol you can imagine. Inviting! Also, HyVee has crazy deals. I once bought two half-gallons of 1% milk for 25 cents a piece. And, like I said, they have everything.

However, we have now moved to Ames and the multiple HyVees here are not in walking distance. I no longer have a job, so I'm at home while David has the car. And when I figure out what I need from the grocery store, I am limited to my bike. And a backpack for storage space. And the closest grocery store to my house is Fairway. Bum bum bummmmm...

Pros: Fairways have decent prices and actually stock hard cider. Also, if you like this sort of thing, they bag it and load it for you. And I don't know for sure, but their meat section people look very professional.

Cons: Fairway looks like it started with much less stuff in the store, and as they got more stuff, they made the aisles smaller and smaller to make up for it.

Also, the people there drift about with their carts, eyeing things like sharks eyeing toes in their water. They aren't moving fast or anything, just slow, leaning on their cart handles, looking at those frozen goods like they might be trying to get away with a deal without telling the customer.

And then there's me who scurries around with a basket, sliding in between people twice my age and trying not to get run over by the drifters.

Shopping carts need blinkers or something so you can tell where they are going. Turn signal to turn, no turn signal to go straight, and hazards for when you plan on parking in an intersection and abandoning your vehicle. I'll just scoot past that one.

P.S. Something Happy

After last post, I went back to YouTube because I saw that Lindsey Stirling had posted a new video. I felt like after the question "Can we be feminine and feminist?" I wanted to share something I liked with you by a girl who is very feminine, talented, cute, and all without being sexual.

I first found Lindsey Stirling because David had me listening to "Party Rock Anthem" by LMFAO and at some point a Lindsey Stirling video popped up on the side labeled "Violinists can shuffle too." It was a cover of that song, and the thing I noticed (other than I liked it better than the original in some ways) was that there was a happy, cute girl in a skirt doing the shuffle with a violin.

Through YouTube links, I found more of her music. She does a lot of covers and violin versions of fun songs like a Phantom of the Opera medley and some computer game music, like Skyrim, Zelda, and Assassin's Creed III. She normally plays violin while dancing. It's awesome.

Spontaneous Me by Lindsey Stirling

So I just want to say, "Way to go, girl!" Makes me want to take up violin.

Warning: Reflection

So yes, this might not be a funny post. Come to think of it, I'm not actually sure I am a funny person. I mean, I amuse myself, but it seems most of us can do that. So maybe you'll find this post funny?

I want to briefly touch on the issue of feminism. I say brief because you could write books, or extensive Wikipedia articles on the subject. I am grateful for the feminist movement. I don't think there has ever been a time where more rights existed for women. Thanks to the movement I can vote, get a job, run for president or Congress. Are there still a few inequalities? Probably. They talk about the glass ceiling and things like that. We've never had a women president (although I would never vote for someone just because of their race/gender/sexual orientation/etc.) and there are fewer women in leadership positions than men. But there are women in leadership positions and we have had females run for president. It's only a matter of time I think before we actually have a good one to choose.

As to the inconsistencies, I think gender equality should be treated like racial equality. We need to be colorblind. No laws saying you have to hire a certain amount of minorities, no discriminating because of the color of their skin or their origin. People are people. And if should be the same with women and men. If the person involved can do the job, then let them do the job. If they are the better candidate for the job, hire them. If they are not, don't. It rather baffled me that women in the military have to meet a lower fitness standard than men, and they can keep their long hair. If the men's fitness standard is the minimum for men, why should women have it easier? This is the military and you have to be prepared. Is it harder for women to meet that standard? Yes. But should we lower standards so women can join the military and call it equality? I don't think so. Why can't a guy keep his long hair? At this point, the military is just enforcing gender identities as well. Women don't want to be degraded by having the military buzz? Maybe they shouldn't be in the military. Equal is equal.

There is one side of feminism that gets a bad rap, but it's also not what I want to talk about today, so I'll just mention it briefly as well. There is the "guy-hating" version of feminism which seems to think that in order to raise up women, they have to debase guys. Yes, in history guys have often been viewed as stronger and have often been in charge. But if you have to bring others down to lift yourself up, I don't think you are worthy of being lifted up. It's like what Atlas Shrugged says that if you have to destroy your competition to be good, then you don't deserve it. However, if you are so good you wipe out your competition, that is just succeeding. Man hater feminism is what often makes people cringe when they think about feminism and makes me not want to identify as a feminist, even though I am all for women's rights. In a libertarian fashion.

Speaking of libertarianism, I am all for women's rights... as stated above. I don't believe in women getting free contraceptives and total abortion rights. In the first instance, I don't believe in free drugs... for anyone, man or women. That's just another instance of a too-big government. In the second case, I believe the fetus is alive and counts as life... so abortion is murder. I'm not going to touch on the "incest-and-rape" cases because too many people use the extreme to justify death-on-demand. And the birth control pill is nine dollars from Wal-Mart. I don't see why so many people need that somehow included in their health care plan when we spend more on fast food.

But, on to what I actually wanted to talk about today, and that is a strange and different form of feminism. I'd even say it's rather backwards. That is the form in which women are super sexy, provocative, and that gives them power and makes them "strong women." You want an example? Watch "Run the World" by Beyonce. "Girls. We run the world." That's the whole theme. But it's not "We run the world by making smart business decisions, informed policies, and holding government positions, getting into politics, influencing local decisions." It appears to be "we run the world by shaking our chests and sticking our butts in the air."

Correct me if I'm wrong, but I thought feminism was about being equals, not sex objects. But music videos like this and things like Charlie's Angels (I'm thinking the recent ones) have us as only having power over others through our use of sex. At least Charlie's Angels has some firepower when that fails. It's the Marilyn Monroe sort of craze, the idea that we need to be strong women by being sexy women. Why are we going back to this? I'd rather have my mind and be respected by others for being smart or witty or competent... more than being respected for being sexy and having a nice body.

But maybe that's it. Women want men to find them attractive and be at the mercy of the power of their sex. So I think somewhere the message has gotten confused. Some women might decide that they don't want to be respected for their mind but for their beauty. They gained some equality and missed have sex power. But where it really seems messed up is when they use sex power and think that it's them being strong women. Like the guy staring at your butt you're waving around is going to turn around and respect you as an equal for it. Like maybe we have some respect, but it doesn't mean much to us unless we're beautiful too. I don't know how much Marilyn Monroe was respected, but she's currently a girls' icon for how to be desirable and a strong woman. She was self-confident, I'll agree. Self confidence in a girl can be very attractive because so many don't seem to have it... and then feel they have to wear tight clothes and wave things in the air to get attention.

What do we, as women, want? Our quest for equality and not being seen as a sex object seems at odds with our desire for others to find us attractive. How do we resolve this? I don't think it's by seducing men and then claiming we're better than them because we got them to want us. Men are wired differently. Or here's a better question: How do we keep what makes us female while trying to be equal? Can two genders so different exist equally? Can I be respected by others and still be most resoundingly a girl? And I don't mean wearing tight clothes or anything like that. Is this really such a man's world that we cannot be equal women within it? What, exactly, do I want?

Adventures With Hair

I am continuing on my quest of putting seed beads in my hair. Episode Three! Or so. I can't remember how many posts I have on it.

Speaking of Episodes, did you know Disney bought out Star Wars? And are planning Episode 7 for 2015? And Lucas won't be directing it? My first reaction is "don't ruin the thing I love!" but if Episodes 1-3 didn't ruin Star Wars for me, I don't know if Disney will. I just wonder now if they'll stay near the canon (in which case they'll have to find people to play Luke, Leia, and Han Solo... though I can't imagine Han Solo not being Harrison Ford), or if they'll go crazy and branch off and make sequels until they ruin it... hey, Disney has a bad habit of doing that. Classics like Cinderella shouldn't have sequels.

All I'm going to say is they better not wreck it. My childhood was built on Episodes 4-6.

But back to the beads. I went to Main Street in Ames during what I have taken to calling "The Comedy of Errors" which wasn't funny and was about us buying a house. I'll write another post on that some other time. But I'll try to make it funny, for you. So, Main Street when we had some time while in Ames. I had purchased the bag of dubiously colored seed beads at Hobby Lobby and was now looking for a hair place that was willing to try doing something that strange. I'm always rather afraid to walk into a hair salon with my dreadlocks, for fear some overeager hair technician will assume I am here to get them chopped and will come at me wielding a pair of scissors, complete with horror music and snipping sounds.

So I go into a salon and tell them what I want. The lady thinks about it for a second and then sends me on to the generically named "The Salon." "They do trendier things like that," she informs me.

I am now trendy. Or on my way to being trendy.

In search of my trendy brethren, we set off down the street. Have you ever been to Main Street? It is like the hidden sacred grounds of hair salons. I've seen at least six, just in the western part. Odd thing is, I had never been to most of them. I went into the Turning Heads salon twice: once to get a "consultation" which you still have to pay for, and once to get the hair I was consulting about for my wedding. But now that I rarely need a hair salon, I am discovering their secret breeding grounds, or something. I could've gone to a different salon every time, instead of constantly gracing MasterCuts with my presence.

At the Salon, the people there did indeed look "trendy," in the way you expect from hair salons. Generally, everyone has short hair because they can't resist cutting it, and often strange colors or styling. But they style hair for a living, so it makes sense.

They listened to me, looked at that little bit of deviant hair, and looked at my seed beads. It was actually a person in a chair who seemed to be giving the orders, so I assume she was one of the employees, just getting it dyed because she was bored. They had a tool which was just a bent piece of pliable plastic that you'd stick through the thing you wanted to thread and stick the hair in the other side. Like those things you use to thread needles if the licking-it-and-sticking-it method isn't working. Their plastic thing would not fit through my bead, but they assured me they'd find something that would. Even if they just had to buy a wire and jimmy-rig it.

Just in case, I went back to Hobby Lobby to see if I could find anything similar to the seed beads, but with larger holes. Did you know that they have books that will teach you Chinese brush painting? Although, I have to wonder if the Chinese actually sketched things out with a pencil before hand. And if that is an important part of it, why isn't a pencil included in the Chinese brush sets? Maybe they're just trying to save you money. And I didn't find any better beads.

So today, I dropped the beads off at The Salon, and they are going to try finding a wire that works tomorrow. We'll see if we can get this done. Though, one person said it might need to be two strands... that might be a little too trendy for me.

What I learned at Hobby Lobby

And so I return to Hobby Lobby during another day I must be in Ames and have the car, but nothing yet to do. Trying to decide if I want more frogs in my hair is better than nothing.
You know, Hobby Lobby is a weird place. It can't seem to decide if it wants to be a hobby place or a decorating place. Or maybe I can't decide. Or maybe decorating is a hobby.
Anyhow, I returned to those seed beads that failed to consider all their primary colors. This time, I asked someone, "why does this so-called multi color pack not include red?" Her answer was, "it does."
I look again. I am still unable to pick out a red bead.
"See, here's one," she shows me in the corner. I examine said red bead. It still looks orange to me. Maybe a different shade of orange, but orange... ish? I keep staring, letting the power of suggestion work over my senses. By the end, it appears red...ish. Close enough.

To pass more time, I wandered through some of the aisles, looking at crafts (and decorations) that I would probably never buy. Knitting with a loom looks severely complicated. Rubber stamps are out of style. I did find a whole bunch of office bling. As in, things for the office that are covered in colored plastic "gems." Isn't that like an anti craft? If your keyboard already has bling all over it, you don't have to do anything to glam it up. And with that attitude, you might as well drive to Target and just buy a sweater instead of looking at yarn.
The most interest aisle was the science projects for kids. I never had a real ant farm even though they fascinated me. And catching black ants and putting them in a jar only works so long... But basically, kids science stuff is the coolest stuff ever, back when the world of science seemed filled with dinosaurs and carnivorous plants and tigers and explorers. My kids are going to love science. And if they don't, I'll just grow all their crystals for them.
But even the science aisle needs checking. I found a plastic wolf labeled lioness, and even further inspection wouldn't surrender that judgement. Also, if you are going to call them "Real Bug Marbles," you should probably explain that spiny spiders and scorpians, while cool, aren't actually bugs. Knowledge gaps of that kind are the type that will get your child made fun of in school by more enlightened children that also tell your kid, "Your epidermis is showing!"  to watch your kid scramble to figure out what is poking out of where.
Don't let your kids be vulnerable to that sort of cruelty; educate them on bugs.

Fitness

So, I have a video for you to watch. It is based on a game called Assassin's Creed and while, to be honest, I actually know very little about the game, the video is pretty sweet. Last I checked, Assassin's Creed was based in medieval times around this assassin. One of the interesting mechanics of the game is the ability to jump off of really high buildings, climb walls, and do crazy acrobatics. It also has beautiful graphics. This video is someone with parkour capabilities dressed like the character from Assassin's Creed.

Have you watched it? Really? I know I skim over videos and look at pictures instead, but this is cool, darn it! I'll have to tell you about the Piano Guys next.

But anyway, did you SEE that? Jumping over things, down things, up things. It's like special effects, but the guy is actually doing it. You've heard of Parkour, right? Parkour is a strange sort of sport that involves building climbing. Or, to quote Wikipedia, "Parkour is a training discipline that developed out of military obstacle course training. Practitioners aim to move from one place to another, negotiating the obstacles in between. The discipline uses no equipment and is non-competitive."

Intense though. I jump around like that and my non-slip shoes slip and I land on my butt, or I land on my feet and hurt my ankles. How does he not hurt his ankles? I'd probably run face-first into a granite slab.

But my question is, can I do that? With lots of practice and so on? No, I don't want to take up parkour. People tend to not like you climbing on their buildings. But I've just accepted the concept of my body being more or less the way it is. I've considered trying to lose weight or pick up Zombies, Run! app for jogging incentive, but the grand goals of these are things like, "run a marathon." Not that I'm making fun of people who run marathons, especially since I am currently unable to run anywhere. But instead of aiming for marathon running, which, let's face it, actually sounds awful, could I aim for something more... elite?

At work, people my age will moan when they have to squat to fill tires and say, "I'm too old for this!" Ok, especially at twenty-five, you shouldn't be too old for it. If you think you are, you are letting yourself down, in my opinion. You are making the choice to move slower, to favor legs or knees... but if you pushed yourself, they might last longer. You're letting yourself get old.

So, to the reverse. Instead of getting old, could I pick up something intense? Could I train my body to the point where I could climb buildings? Do a martial art? Box? In a game I am currently playing they have a monk class. They roll, kick, punch, do stances. It's way cool and reminds me of what little I remember of Tae Kwon Do. Could I learn enough of a martial art to actually be able to use it for something? Is it possible to be anything like the movies? Well, not stuff like Hero and Crouching Tiger, Hidden Dragon. That's just insane. But how much awesomeness is possibly somewhat obtainable? Could I hone my body until it is a tool instead of something more like a pet that I take care of and hope it turns out ok? Do I even really want to do it?

I'm moving on Saturday. Moving always makes me think of all the opportunities possible with starting at a new location. And I've had thoughts like this before, switching between a mild "feel good about myself" level of exercise and "go for gold" ideas of exercise (and, admittedly, where I'm currently at of "I don't want exercise to look at me").

People I know and people on Facebook are running. I hate running, but I want to be ABLE to run too.

As Promised

Now, it's not that I mind my mother reading my blog. I actually enjoy the fact. It's just that when your mother is the only one who appears to notice when you've been lazy about posting that gets rather worrisome. Then you descend into the "my mom thinks I'm awesome!" category that is somewhat equivalent to that idiom, "a face only a mother can love." As in, nobody else thinks you're worth reading.

But all that aside, this one is for you, Mom.

Also, Mom said I should think about decorating our house that we're buying. I told her that I thought about thinking about it. So here are my opinions of decorating: I don't decorate.

Why is it that it's always supposed to be the women who decorate? Where did I get this invisible decorating degree? Why would anyone assume that because I have a matched XX chromosome, I can somehow also match the drapes to the sofa? I only have one concept of furniture, and that is green. Sofas should be green. Cause that's what they were in the house I grew up in. Why? I dunno, are there any other colors for sofas?

Unfortunately, green sofas are just a dream at this point. I am currently saddled with several floral print sofas of dubious origins. I guess that means there is one other thing I know about decorating, and you should be proud because this is an opinion formed all on my own: floral print sofas are ugly. Which is why I have them as they are so often cheap-as-free. Maybe I could recover them or something. But even floral print is better than those ill-fitting sheet things that make it clear you hate your sofa just as much as you hate the idea of spending money on getting a decent recovering job.

But I digress.

I don't decorate. I have a computer game called The Sims 3 in which you run miniature soap operas of digital people in a digital world. Some people say they play it just to build the houses (or like my cousin, just to kill off Sims. Some people are strange in the head). I do not play it to build the houses. I'd use a prebuilt one if I could, but they never put in enough bedrooms or hobby space for my taste, so I have to resort to horrible rectangle things that demonstrate my very sparse view of house design, in that as long as there are walls, roof, and doors, we should be ok.

I wanted a mansion for my vampire/werewolf/etc clan. So I had David build it. But he didn't get as far as decorating. If there is a better example for why I shouldn't decorate, you should see some of the rooms in this place. Also, I can't get the trim to match the wood floors. Irksome. But, also, I get bored and just start throwing things together. This can be the green-themed room!

All this is because we are in the process of purchasing a house. And apparently there are expectations that come with home ownership, such as the owning of furniture, making of meals, and other domestic concerns. And as the person I am living with has an XY chromosome, these expectations fall to me... which is entirely stupid as HE is the one with the design degree, not I.

Here's another example. One of the bathrooms in this place is entirely gutted. To avoid having to travel to the basement every time I need to go in the middle of the night, the upstairs bathroom needs to be finished post-haste. And David is looking for stuff to do it with. He suggested we go to Lowes to take a look at some things. I suggest that I have absolutely no desire to go to Lowes and I just want to go home after we pick up the milk. He tries to deal, will I go if he has me in and out in ten minutes? I return, if it really means that much to you... but you have to take me to Noodles and Co for lunch tomorrow. He tries to bargain and I tell him there is no more bargaining. He's taking me to lunch at Noodles and Co and if it takes more than ten minutes, he's also buying me one of those snickerdoodle cookies the size of your face.

Well, we looked at sinks, I criticized some sinks, and we were out in nine minutes.

The steak stroganoff is delicious, by the way.

Shoe Implications

I would like to spend a moment and talk about my flip flops. Now previously, I had a pair of Switch-Flops, which are flip flops with Velcro on the top and many different overpriced tops that Velcro on. (I guess Velcro is a brand name, as my app keeps capitalizing it.) Anyway, they were cute and comfortable and I wore them to death. But when they broke, I decided to try something new. Now, I am using the app, so I'm not really sure where the attached picture ended up, but take a second to look at it. Those are my new flip flops. Guess what that bit on the sole is.

I walked into a shoe store in the mall and went to.the.display saying something like "ridiculously comfortable" to describe their product, Reef. When the sales guy came over, I asked him, "Are these really ridiculously comfortable?" He replied to the affirmative and said that he wore the guys version and loved it. "So what are these things on the bottom?" I asked, having already examined the odd metal bit sticking out. "Those are bottle openers."

I guess they also double as arch support. But owning flip flops with bottle openers on the bottom seems to raise expectations for what I do in said flip flops. If one has bottle-opening shoewear, it seems expected that one attends beachside parties in which you might find yourself without a bottle-opener but with a plethora of shod feet.

Unfortunately, I do not appear to be in possession of a group of friends which might be inclined to party on a beach, and the only beach which is near is a much less exciting lake beach, and it has all sorts rules, including no drinks of a more fun complexion.

So failing all that, am I a footwear poser? Am I allowed to sport flip-flops created for a much more entertaining lifestyle than I posses? And should I attempt to make up for the lack, or simply stop talking about it?

Maybe I need to move to California.

Media Bits

No, I'm not posting bits of media. I have a YouTube account, but I hardly think anyone needs to see me sitting there poorly delivering a speech on like why I got dreads or a tour of my house or anything like that. I need a platform, I have a blog. Seriously, I don't even journal because why get hand cramps when I can share my thoughts with all of you?

Even if there are no readers, this is much easier.

But no, the media bits in question are bits of media that I am going to mention/rant about.

The first is the new Underworld movie, that being Underworld: Awakening. Now, I liked Underworld in the past. I've had a thing for vampire/werewolf stuff, long before Twilight. I think it might have been partially the Van Helsig movie, which while unimpressive, at least had some fun lore to it. Then I read The Historian, a historically-based book on attempting to find Dracula, with many of the actual history about the man known as Vlad Tepes, aka Vlad the Impaler. He was a jerk. But somewhere before Twilight, I think it was (or before I got into it), I saw Underworld. A little on the gory side, but entertaining and the plot wasn't bad and we got a good view of the vampires and werewolves. It starts off with werewolves being the enemy, but the true enemy is a vampire.

Later, Underworld 3, Rise of the Lycans, came out, so I decided to catch up and watch Underworld 2. Don't do that. Aside from the gratuitous nudity, it strays quite a bit from anything really interesting with vampires or werewolves and instead deals with "hybrids" that aren't one or the other, but they're pretty ugly. I can't remember anything particularly interesting about the plot, either. Lots of running and getting chased.

Underworld 3 wasn't bad. It is set back in time from the first two and deals with one of the characters from Underworld 1 and how he got to where he was and how he was all for vampire and werewolf peace. He was a decent werewolf, even had the hots for a vampire girl. Result is that lycans (werewolves) are more humanized and they aren't as bad as the vampires that have been the trouble for the last two movies.

Underworld 4, Awakening. Granted, I wasn't expecting much. I was at least hoping for some nicely-colored frames in dark tones. I suppose it had some of that. And I was pleasantly hopeful with the movie starting with the humans figuring out about the existence of vampires and werewolves and purging them. I'm thinking, "cool, and angle that hasn't been done yet. Maybe now the werewolves and the vampires will team up and try and survive."

Fast forward twelve years where Selene has been frozen in ice in a lab and now has a child who is a hybrid, just like her lover was. Selene wakes up and spends her time trying to protect and then trying to get back her child. They thought it was the humans, but the lycans keep showing up and eventually they figure out that some humans are protecting the lycans and the people at the lab are actually all lycans and think it's like some kind of better steroid.

So basically, in the end, LYCANS are still the problem and lycans are still the enemy. REALLY? Humans eliminate almost all of your species and somehow you make it into lycans are the problem? The past three movies have made lycans more reasonable and more human and have had vampires as the bad guys and now you're going to go down the road of "all lycans suck?"

Not to mention the plot didn't flow very well, Selene spends a lot of time looking confused and her daughter a lot of time looking distraught. Michael Corvin, Selene's hybrid boytoy has a cameo of about two minutes. And as far as discontinuity goes, in the first movie, Selene tells Michael that getting bit by both species equals death. Nobody can survive two bites. But then Michael proves her wrong by being a snazzy hybrid and all that, but in the fourth movie, a regular vampire gets bit by a werewolf and ends up with nothing but a little discomfort. I'd complain about the ability of vampires to have babies, but that at least is sticking to continuity. They established that one in the first movie.

So overall rated: Meh: Mildly Entertaining.

I was going to talk a little bit about my favorite band, but judging by the length of this post already, I think I'll save it.

Exercise

I apologize for my lack of posting. I've been very busy. I have a job now and occasionally they schedule me for eleven hour shifts. Occasionally as in two or three times a week. Which leaves me not wanting to do anything else.

At least on the less than busy days, I have time to work on my hair or read or whatever. So it isn't so bad. Cept the busy days.

My favorite place so far is in the pit. You only have two jobs: drain the oil and change the filter. It's dirty and hot, but more satisfying. I just hope the bra I like isn't stained forever. I finally got to Wal-Mart to buy a black bra and some black tank tops to wear under my work shirts. Which I just got this week. Oh yeah, I look cool.

So I've been busy. And it's really hard to find motivation to make supper, clean house, or do anything relatively productive if you've been at work since eight and just get back at like seven-thirty. And since we've got a heat wave going on, it's hard to feel motivated to do anything that would make me continue to be hot and sweaty.

I am attempting to exercise now. The plan David and I are using is P90X. I am not really a fan of the diet, and the workouts are pretty intense, although I do have a hard time believing in any program that doesn't make my out-of-shape self suffer. Basically, P90X makes me want to collapse on the floor and cry like a baby.

My favorite routine so far is Kenpo X, as it seems very much like Tae Kwon Do. And while I hate exercise, doing exercise-like things that have a purpose is fun. Like boxing, dancing, Tae Kwon Do, sports and so on.
So Kenpo X is pretty decent. The worst one is the one with push-ups. I hate push-ups.

Otherwise, P90X seems serious and that's cool. Not a wimpy routine you pull out of a magazine or what not. I started doing it with David and his friend Shane, but because of vacations and the like, I've felt like I hadn't really followed the program, so I'm trying to restart, and this time I'm doing the lean version.

Some of the girls in the videos are solid and buff. I don't really want to be buff or really muscular, I want to look toned and fit. So lean for me.

I like the idea of working out and I like having worked out recently, but I hate actually doing it. But I really do want to be fit.

Except on the days I work eleven hours.

Warning: Nerd

So this post is going to be nerdy/geeky (depending on definition). Basically, I will be talking about a computer game. Because I am ecstatic about it.

Let's start from the beginning. My three favorite computer games are World of Warcraft, Dragon Age series, and Sims 3.

World of Warcraft is a long-time friend and a role-playing game, meaning I can create characters and then control them and make them betting in a world that I've seriously lived in longer than any one house/apartment/dorm. I can be a nostalgic nerd.

The Dragon Age series (I and II) has been amazing so far. The cool thing about Dragon Age is that they have managed to create a story, like a story you'd read a book about in the fantasy genre. But since this is a computer game, you get to be in and control the story. You can create your own character and depending on what race or class (warrior, rogue, mage) you are, your story changes. That's what first drew me in. David was playing a dwarf noble rogue and said that the intro stories were different for different races or classes. So I started playing an elf mage and my experience was different than his. And based on different choices you make in game, you can romance different people, have different outcomes, allies, and endings. I love it because it gives me an aspect I've always wanted, and that is of being able to be inside a book. Since I was a little girl, I've always imagined myself in my favorite stories... and this lets me experience it in some small way. Not to mention they are good story-tellers and make you make hard choices that don't have a right answer.

And then there is Sims 3. Sims 3 is a game where you create people, make families, and then set them in a world. They can go get jobs, get married, pro-create, make money, buy bigger houses and more stuff... It plays rather like a soap opera. On the interest ranking, it is far below the other two games I've listed... but I don't have a problem making up stories for my Sims. It still runs rather like a soap-opera, but I've had fun, even though there isn't combat and very little magic.

Which is where this post comes in. They are coming out with a new expansion pack for Sims 3. And it has werewolves. EEEEEEEeeeee!

It is called Sims 3 Supernatural and it has updated vampires (they were added in an earlier expansion pack), werewolves, fairies, and witches. And I am going to have grand fun playing out my urban fantasy... fantasies.

Politics of Relationships

I am starting to get this bizarre sense that people view David and my relationship differently than we do.

You know how you can get a feeling about some relationships, the idea about who is in control, who makes the decisions, and who wears the pants. Now, I don't know what it says about me, or says about David, but generally, people seem to assume I'm the boss.

I'm not really sure where they get that idea. Is it because I am opinionated? Have a forceful personality? Or David is easy-going and laid-back? But I have encountered things like this before, and I have three specific examples that I can name. Probably more that haven't been said.

First one stems from when we were dating. Sorry, but I am going to engage in a little geek speak here, for the example is from World of Warcraft. David and I were part of a guild, and through an unthought-out series of events, we decided to move with several other guild members to a new and different guild. I asked David what he wanted to do and told him I would only do it if he did. I was nervous about leaving, but followed his lead. Later, I logged on to a different character that was still in the old guild, but most people didn't know it was me. And they were talking about all the people who left in guild chat. One person said they thought Darane (me) would be the type to just up and leave. "I bet Darane wanted to go and dragged Strongtower (David) with her."

Um, no, that's not how it went. Course if I spoke up in my own defense, that'd blow my cover.

More recently, when I got dreadlocks. My mother was vastly uncomfortable with the whole situation, so we discussed it and why I did it when she came up for a bike ride. But the thing that helped her the most was when she talked to David and found out he liked my dreads and didn't mind that I had them.

"I wouldn't have gotten them if he hadn't supported me in getting them," I told her. Goodness knows, I had few enough supporters. And him being the one to have to look at me, I needed his support if I was to continue. Mom said she was worried because she thought it was an idea I had just gotten in my head and wouldn't listen to anyone and dragged David right along with me. Makes me wonder what I did in the past to have that be the first assumption people have of me.

And then today. We were walking along a nature walk/hike and one of my in-laws asks me, "how'd you get David to start working out?" Um, I had nothing to do with that. He just wanted to start and I said it'd be cool if he had a six pack. I actually didn't want him to work out on vacation cause I wasn't going to. But I've tried to get him to work out in the past, and to no avail.

So what exactly spawned all this? Do people not really know us? They seem to have no idea about David's stubborn streak that I can't touch, or that I do a lot of things on my own because he turned them down. When it comes to our interaction, David is very easy-going. I will admit he does a lot of things because I'd like to do them, or he wants to do them with me. But he already has to want to do them to some extent. He can sometimes be convinced to go biking with me or to the frozen yogurt place, but that's because he already kind of wants to bike or kind of wants to eat frozen yogurt. If I say, wanted to go swimming, there is a good chance I'm going on my own because he has to be in a mood to swim and there is nothing I can say that would convince him.

Also, he can be very, highly stubborn about random things. And regardless of what I say, I can't budge him. I know there are times I won't win the war, so I just let him be.

Also, he knows I am perfectly capable of having fun on my own, so when he refuses, he knows that doesn't mean I won't go or will be really upset. As a result, we tend to be a fairly independant couple, where both of us are able to do separate activities and still enjoy ourselves.

But when it comes to actual decisions, one of us will propose the decision, then we both will discuss it and come to a conclusion. And honestly, I tend to be the flexible party, stating my doubts or position, but letting him make the choice. Because I feel that is sort of his job.

And there is my essay on why I'm not a tyrant.

Bike Pathing

Recently, I have been noticing a large number of icons painted on the streets of West Des Moines. Not graffiti, but official designations of a sort. West Des Moines and the surrounding towns/suburbs/whatever they are have a large number of bike paths. You can get pretty much anywhere in West Des Moines by mostly bike path. Maybe not the most efficient way, but I prefer bike paths because most of them are paved and smooth like roads, but with no cars on them. Not that there is not traffic, I have to dodge many a jogger, walker, pet walker, and other bikers, but at least no cars running me over.

I know West Des Moines is working on increasing the number of bike trails available. They recently put up a bunch of sign posts point to different trails at various trailheads and intersections. But now, I think they are getting a little ahead of themselves in their biker enthusiasm. Here is the symbol I've seen painted on many a street.


















And that shadow is me! Hi everyone!

Anyway, this is just your basic street. Two way, no cool enough for lines in the middle, basic street. And now it has bike path things painted on it and signs along the side designating it a bike path.

No. Just no. This is not a bike path. This is still a street. Painting a bike on it isn't going to keep the cars off our butts or keep us from interfering with traffic. I never bike on the street if I can avoid it, as I hate cars trailing and passing me. I think it is dangerous. And now they think they can just designate a bike path! Like that changes anything!

Unless, of course, when you bike over the arrows, you get a speed boost. Then it's all cool.

Aspiriations

First off, I apologize for this post. I went to work for a half-day, it was hot outside on the way back, and what do you know, but I have Woodchucks hard cider in the refrigerator. So now I have 12 ounces of that at 5% alcohol in my bloodstream and haven't eaten lunch... follow along and do the math! Or let the nearest cop do it! I bet they can do it in their heads.

But the thing you should take from that isn't the strange feeling of my brain trying to float out of my skull, but the fact that now I have a job! Buying the hard cider was in celebration. I just picked up a position at Valvoline Instant Oil Change.

A step up from food service? In my opinion. A good job? In my opinion. I get that it is still an entry level job, but it isn't food service... and I like the idea of doing oil change. It's mechanical in nature and I like things like that. I've always been interested in putting things together and fixing stuff, but I wanted to be unique and my little brother is now a helicopter mechanic out with the Marines in Afghanistan... so if anyone in the family was the fix-it person, it was him. And, you know, I'm a girl.

But that aside, they pay better starting than what I ended at Panera, they have seven holidays to Panera's two, they are closed Sundays (the one I'm at is), and they seem a lot nicer and a lot more chill. I was at work only a half day today, but it felt like I was hanging out. Even with cars to work on, it didn't feel that much like actual work.

Oh, I know it's all new and shiny (or dirty with engine grime, as the case may be), but it still seems like it would be better, even after the 100th or 1000th car. Better than asking 300 people a day if they want a drink with their meal. I know it gets busier, but I've been in busy situations and you just have to take it a step a time.

I think I could do this. And maybe in a year or so, if I don't still love it, I'll find something else to learn. But I like where I'm at right now.

My adopted grandfather-in-law said something along the lines of, "that seems a strange sort of thing for a girl to do. But we heard you liked that."

"I'm a strange sort of person," I replied.

I'm living my Mercy Thompson (urban fantasy, Patricia Briggs, my favorite) fantasy. I have oil under my boy-short nails.

I've also always been a bit of a boy, in some things. I don't wear makeup, but I get proud when I get oil under my nails, blisters, and make my knuckles bruise and bleed from boxing. This might be just the place for me.

Linsey's Plant Manifesto

Forgive me father, for I have sinned. I have taken many lives today. But with God's help, I will not use a weed-whacker again.

I don't like weed-whacking, even if all the lives taken were of green matter so low, that my mother-in-law won't even deign to call them "plants." Apparently, that special title is reserved for the green things that are wanted.

Poor little non-plants.

Anyway, a death sentence hangs over all non-plant vegetable matter in my mother-in-law's garden and yard, especially the ones next to trees and buildings and the like that cannot be mowed. Sneaky little usurpers. It's that sort of anarchic behavior that calls for a brand new bright orange weed-whacker.

Ok, so I don't feel the same way. I like some long grass around trees, I think it looks nice. Kind of like how I think hair in strict ponytails looks better with a few tendrils escaping on the sides. I've always had a more chaotic preference when it comes to lawns. Whenever someone says their lawn needs to be mowed, I look at it and think it looks nice the way it is. But this isn't my lawn, so it doesn't matter. It is Michelle's, and she can have her lawn the way she wants it.

Expect, I was working for her. And David had the more manly job of chopping down a tree that I will have to hold a funeral for later (it looked plenty alive to me!). Armed with a very noisy bright orange death bringer, I set out to force order upon the lawn. The lawn that looked as though it needed to be mowed again (not my standard) even though I just mowed it three days ago!

But back to forcing order. In the beginning, I was just doing a job. It was clearing debris, snipping hair, or some other task of making things look neat. But the loss of plant life was taking it's toll. About the time I had to whack a group of perfectly innocent purple flowers at the base of one tree, I was sorry. My conscious was laden with the innocent grass-like things adorning the bases of trees. But I had a job to do, and I pressed on.

After that, I needed conditioning. I couldn't just keep killing and remain the same. So I got angry at the plants. Why were they making me kill them? Didn't they know better? Didn't they ever consider that under the trees was a bad spot? Stupid poor dying non-plant things.

Finally, I thought I had hit every tree on the lawn. Personally, if I had that many trees, I'd let them keep their plant adornments. And supposedly Michelle is the only person at that residence that does weed-whack around the trees. The kids just do the fence in the front yard.

So I put the death-thing away and went on to the other tasks. We rounded the shed to hook an ill-fated auger to the tractor, and Michelle pointed out some knee-high plant life in an area behind the shed and the horse yard, rife with junk and other not-junk stuff that was sitting in the way. "That will need to be weed-whacked too," she said.

"It's David's turn," I replied. My hands were still vibrating in their gloves. And I think whacking that portion that isn't even lawn yet is superfluous. You should know David probably won't do it, either, but he is her son and can get away with just being stubborn. He wasn't even going to cover the trees.

I also spend some time weeding Michelle's garden of various non-plant plant-resembling things. And I've decided something. If I ever put effort into a garden, the effort is going to go into specifically designing it to exist with minimal effort. And maybe I like some of those weeds.

All this to say, I would suck in the army. I can barely kill plants.

Horse is a Horse

I'm sorry but I really had nothing to say! Not a thing! That's what I get for posting all my book reviews on Goodreads now. I'm coming to realize I like action/adventure books with a budding romance and maybe some mystery. I should just surrender to the young adult genre.

But that's not what I wanted to talk about.

I wanted to talk about horses! Don't all little girls love horses? Want a pony for Christmas? Frolic about pretending to be one?

Well, while I did like horses (and pretended to be one, frequently. I was an imaginative child.), I never actually wanted one. I think even as a child, I had an idea about how much they pooped. And I lived in an apartment...

But, I do know one girl who is living the horsey dream, as she is fourteen and has not one, but TWO horses. She is my sister-in-law, Emily Gravlin.

That is Emily and one of her horses named (deep breath) Folly Bug Sue Can Do. Not kidding. Apparently horses like carrying around their sire's name, and I think that's one of those words there. And horse naming is just ridiculous. Emily's other horse has the much more sensible name of Twigs. Course, she isn't horse royalty, like this one here. Sue here has a pretty good bloodline and is also a trained barrel horse. Which is why Emily is in the location pictured.

The location pictured is an indoor arena somewhere on the Iowa State Fairgrounds hosting a fancy-pants horse event. I say that because it is nothing like a rodeo and has mostly highly boring English riding events, with the rodeo-style barrels and poles tacked on to the end as "speed-events."

Here's how I would choose between styles, if someone was offering to teach me one: Which has the coolest hat? And that is Western, hands down. Cowboy hats vs black velvety helmets. Then look at the rest of the outfit. Button-up vs standard high-neck navy blue jacket. Jeans vs tan leggings. Cowboy boots vs knee-high black boots. Well, actually I think their boots were the only thing not bad about their outfit, but still can't beat cowboy boots.

Not to mention, I like the pommel of the saddle. Like an emergency handle.

Now, rodeo vs fancy-pants horse event. If you've even been to a rodeo, you know they are conducted loudly, with blaring pop music, rodeo clowns, and large crowds of cheering country people in blue jeans, cowboys hats, and strangely stylish bling tops on the girls.

This event had under thirty people watching and was conducted in almost complete silence. And most of the English events (that I saw) consisted of like four to seven girls in the same blue coats and tan leggings walking, trotting, and cantering around the ring.

Hey, the snack bar sells strawberry daiquiris!

Rodeos have crazy events that involve lots of speed and danger. I saw a guy break his leg while riding a bull.
Crazy bucking broncs and bulls, roping cows, racing... yeah.

Not like I'm really comfortable with either. All my hours of pretending to be a horse did not unlock horse whispering or any sort of higher understanding for those creatures. Riding them is like riding a bike with attitude. But I find horse events fun because it's like looking into someone else's world, a blast from the past that had cowboys. I'm a city kid, and rodeos are distinctly country. But hey, always fun. And Em might give me the beads from her broken cowboy hat strings... cool stuff for my hair!

Headache

My brain is probably about the consistency of porridge right now. Next time Ron Paul asks me to donate, I'll say that I have... in the form of forty dollars and eight hours of mind-numbing boredom.

I'm getting a headache and I don't know if I want to go into politics anymore.

Is it true we really can't get anything accomplished without hours upon hours of political language and excessive amounts of ballot casting? Now, I think this process would have been literally twice as fast if we had a little bit of technology. I mean beyond the low resolution projectors and microphones. We need something like the clickers from college, something where you can immediately cast a ballot and have it counted and the results can be tallied in as little as thirty seconds, give or take three minutes for all the people still trying to figure it out. We were using paper ballots. We wrote on them with a pen and passed them toward one end of the aisle.

Does that not seem rather archaic to you? I mean, granted, you need money for technology. But clickers in college are like sixty bucks per person. I'm only twenty short.

But here I am, hopeful alternate with forty bucks in my pocket, thinking they won't need me.



I wasn't one of the original delegates, or even alternates, and I missed the Polk county convention, which people generally agreed was a disaster. I became an alternate because there is something that allows everyone in the Polk County Central Committee to be an alternate delegate. It makes sense; we were all probably elected at the same time and by the same people to represent as the original delegates. I didn't think I would be an actual delegate because they randomly assign you a number that determines in what order you are allowed to become a delegate. I was 171 out of 300+. However, I don't think there was much more than twenty alternates for Polk county who showed up, and I have no idea how many delegates didn't show up. I just know that someone from the Polk County Convention started walking along being like, "Are you from Polk? Go get your ballots." They only give ballots to actual delegates. But be careful. Alternates don't have to pay the fee. Delegates do. You know what that means? Those are forty dollar ballots. You wouldn't think it, would you? Looking at those pastel colors and that cheap staple.


[Covering up the name cause they gave me a delegate nametag to prove I was one... but it wasn't mine.]

But whatever. By the time I got to the floor, some damage had already been done. They voted to change a rule allowing the people with the most ballots to win to a rule that says the people have to have 51% of the ballots to win. Not a big difference, you think? Add some rhetoric to make it sound like they won't represent you if you didn't vote for them?

By the end, people were voting to suspend that rule just to let others win so we didn't have to vote again. It wasn't clear that you had to keep voting until you got a winner. So say eight people run for four slots. Everyone can put four names on their ballot. Two people are popular and win with over 51% of the vote. Instead of the two right under them being in the other two spots, everyone else is declared a loser and we have to vote again on those two spots. The two with the least votes are then dropped from the ballot and we now have four people for two spots. Then we vote again. What really bothers me is that instead us actually getting a majority, we just keep cycling the people and eliminating the lowest until we're all forced to vote for the same people. Is that really agreement? I don't know.

But, I think Ron Paul came out ahead. I found some people from the Ron Paul camp beforehand, and we clustered to get instructions. Afterward, I met some more Ron Paul people, probably some of the youngest people in the room aside from the junior delegates. It's my job to try and get to the next meeting of the district convention to decide who goes to state or national or something like that.

It's really weird to think about. We voted in caucuses back in January. I believe that after recount, Santorum won. But now Santorum has dropped out. And even though all those people voted for Santorum, the delegates never even got all the way up to the top.. What happens to them? I guess they vote for someone else. So even though Santorum won Iowa, he now has nothing here, but they aren't just dead votes.

Did you know the average age of the Republican voter is 65? One guy is like, "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be out working to pay my social security?" People asked my age and when I told them, they're all like, "Oh good for you!" being all happy that someone that young was at a Republican convention.

But, like me and another Ron Paul supporter shared conspiratorially... we're not really Republicans.