Wednesday, March 31, 2010

A little to the left

Abner usually wears a harness because of his sensitive bulldog trachea but because Ryan thinks he looks like a dork, we got him a "big boy" collar for camping. He was PUMPED on wearing it at first but soon had to stop every 20 seconds to itch his neck. Finally Ryan gave him a good scratch and...



He went back to wearing the dorky harness

Tuesday, March 30, 2010

Smells Like Patchouli

This past Friday night, in a champagne induced coma, I agreed to go camping; in fact, I may have even suggested it. We did a quick Google search for campgrounds in Big Sur that were both dog friendly and close to the river and came across Fernwood resort. Ryan called to make a reservation and we got the last available site for the following night.

The next morning I woke up with cotton mouth and a vague recollection that we were going camping, the enormous grin on Ryan’s face confirmed it. Ryan began to gather his camping gear from the shed and I packed up some snacks blankets and clothes. With the car neatly packed (my husband is an exceptional packer) and one stop for hot dogs, s’more supplies and cheap beer, we were on our way.

It had been years since I had driven down Highway 1 and I had forgotten how absolutely beautiful it is. Sometimes with things as amazing as Big Sur right in your backyard you forget to actually GO. We arrived at our campground, checked in and soon discovered that we had the shittiest site on the entire property. Ryan decided to see if any other sites had opened up and sure enough one had; a nice spot right by the river.

Now, I have been camping plenty of times in my life. There were the super fun camping trips when you are a kid and all you have to do is show up, eat the meals mom prepares and swim, the drunken lake trips in high school where nobody really remembers what the hell went on and a few trips in my adult years when I realized just how much work camping is. I remember it taking a good hour to set up camp. There is the tent, the picnic table, the ice chest and let’s not forget, the filthy dirty tarps! I was preparing myself for all of it when all of a sudden I turned around and it was DONE. It then became clear that I was camping with a professional.

I knew Ryan loved camping and had been a lot with family, friends and just he and his dog, but I didn’t know he LOVE LOVED it until Saturday. I am telling you; the entire time we were there I couldn’t get that grin off of his face. I literally could have told him I stepped on a wasp nest and he would have been like AWESOME, NATURE! AN ADVENTURE! I, to put it nicely, do not love camping. Don’t get me wrong, I do like it and I did have a great time, but if given the choice to sleep in a freezing tent or a warm house I would choose the house.

So yeah, freezing tent aside, we had a lot of fun. We drank Pabst Blue Ribbon, ate campfire hot dogs, hiked along the river, one of us ate s’mores, another one of us tried to chase squirrels and yet another one of us pouted in the tent. The tent, by the way, was referred to as “the babysitter,” by about 8:30pm because we were both sick of chasing Abner around and zipped his annoying ass in there. No really. He was a complete pain. He never stopped. He tried to eat everything, repeatedly wandered down to the river and did I mention he NEVER STOPPED. FOR GODS SAKE DOG, GO TO SLEEP.

Of course I cannot mention Big Sur without mentioning hippies. Now, correct me if I’m wrong, but aren’t hippies supposed to be all peaceful and nice and gleefully high all the time? At least that has been my experience up until this weekend. On Sunday we went to Pfeiffer State Beach and encountered some of the gnarliest hippies I have ever seen. And I don’t just mean the odor wafting from their general direction. They were foul human beings. They littered, belched, dropped the F bomb every other word and BATHED IN THE OCEAN. They were gross. I imagine if I were a hippie I would be disappointed by their representation of “hippies,” unless I was high on LSD, then I’d probably be amused.

Overall it was a great mini-vacation and I look forward to camping again. I may complain about the smell of smoke, the lack of warm water and the general idea of being outside ALL DAY AND ALL NIGHT, but I really did have a lovely time. I think the idea of camping was best described by a close family friend’s Italian foreign exchange student a few years ago. She had never heard of camping before and was having a hard time understand why we do it, “you are telling me that you take all the things from your house and then put them outside? And this is supposed to be fun?” I couldn’t have said it better Alexandria, but guess what. It IS fun


I learned how to play dominoes

Drama Queen in the tent

Our little campsite

Hanging out by the river



He HAD to jump in

Playing at Pfeiffer



Pretty

Monday, March 29, 2010

Roughing it



This past weekend we took a little impromptu camping trip to Big Sur. Here is a quick shot of us by the creek. Note, the camera was sitting on a rock in the middle of the creek and set to timer. I think it came out quite nice but this next picture is more "us."



don't ya think?

Peach



While going through some picture files I noticed that we don't have many pictures of Georgia. Ryan decided we should have a few good ones just in case she gets lost and we need to post fliers around the neighborhood. We are always thinking positively over here! Anyway, here is one I particularly like.

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Digging to China



We recently started doing some serious yard work and by we I mean Ryan...and I bring him beer. Abner obviously likes to help

Aretha had the right idea

You can’t make it through a day without hearing about a million different things you need. You need this new television, this new phone, a new video game, perhaps a new car. More fruit and fewer cookies, more whole grains and fewer potato chips. It seems like every single day there is MORE of everything in this world except for what we need most; not love or world peace, this isn’t a Miss America pageant, I think we need more RESPECT.

Imagine a world where there was more respect; and I’m not just talking between a man and a woman. What if we respected each other, our bodies, the earth, ANIMALS, boundaries, laws, responsibilities? What if parents started respecting their children more and children their parents? If we as humans started giving animals the respect they deserve? If we stopped wanting all the time at the expense of the planet and looked at what we really need?

I’m certainly not saying you have to like everyone and everything or even agree with different opinions, but respecting that everyone is different and entitled to their own opinion would do us all a world of good.

Just a thought

Tuesday, March 23, 2010

Snake Eyes

This past weekend, my cousin, her BFF and her BFF’s two cousins went to Tahoe for a little girl’s trip. Now before you comment on my use of BFF, you should know that I HATE internet abbreviations but that is what Jenny calls her so in this case, and ONLY this case, it is a proper name, not an abbreviation and I will allow it. Moving on.

We left Friday morning and we were all so excited to get away. It was like we were all 5 years old and we were going to Disneyland for the first time. I think we all needed it. Some of us more than others, but I digress.

I went into this trip almost completely blind; on purpose of course. I wanted to go and have absolutely no control over what we did, where we stayed, who else was coming, where we were eating, etc. I knew if I knew all the details I would worry about it and be stressed out before we even left. Knowing nothing was actually kind of fun. I won’t get used to it of course, I am most definitely a DETAIL NEED TO KNOWER/PLANNER, but in this case, it was nice.

Our dive was fun and full of snacks including a Taco Bell pit stop which resulted in most of us having multiple “pit stops” later that evening, if you know what I mean. I used to eat Taco Bell quite a bit in college but it has since turned its back on me. I don’t blame it really. I turned my back on it first, but a bean burrito just isn’t the same if you aren’t wasted at 3am twice a week. My mom just read that and thought to herself, “what a good use of college money, Anne. Booze and Taco Bell.”

That last statement just reminded me of a story. Once, when living in LA I had a late night Taco Bell moment but all I had for payment was my credit card that was for “emergency use only.” You know, the one where the bill goes to mom and dad’s house so it better come with an explanation. Well, I get a call one day asking how in the hell I managed to spend 10 dollars at Taco Bell? Booze! Suddenly this is a Taco Bell post and that is SO not the direction I wanted to go.

Back to Tahoe. We had an amazing time. We took tequila shots, ate amazing food, danced the night away, lounged by the pool, got a tan...just seeing if you are paying attention, and totally got hit on all night long. THAT is where this post was originally going. Boys/men, listen up.

Now, I have never really been, “in the game.” Even when I was single I gave the don’t fucking talk to me I’m busy look all night long, but I have been out quite a bit and been a wing woman from time to time and I must say, some things never change. The parade of douche bags that is. I mean seriously LAME. If you are at a bachelor party and one person out of the ten of you walks over and asks US to come talk to your boys…LAME. If you want to talk then YOU have to come to us. Same goes for dancing. If you want to dance with a group of girls then do it, don’t ask if they want to dance with you because they DON’T.

Also, if you see me across the bar and decided to make your drunken “move” do not, I repeat do not come over and sing Hero in my ear. I mean seriously boy at the Harris bar, if you are out there, NEVER DO THAT AGAIN, EVER! Additionally, if you choose to buy a girl a shot do not expect anything in return. It is your choice and maybe, if you are really lucky or she is really drunk you might get some action out of it, but 9 times out of 10 you won’t, get over it.

There is nothing worse than having someone come back 15 minutes later bitching that you never came and danced with them and won’t go to their “cabin party.” Oh, I’m sorry, yes, you did buy me that 5 dollar shot and I do owe you and there is nothing I’d rather do than drive to a complete stranger’s house at 1am. You have got to be kidding me boys, does this really work?

Anyway, it was a great weekend get away sprinkled with lots of laughs, beautiful mountains and some good old fashioned girl talk.




Monday, March 22, 2010

Family



This is what I miss when I'm out of town!

Friday, March 19, 2010

Life's a beach



The weather has been absolutely gorgeous lately and we have been hitting up the beach any chance we get. I'm pretty sure Abner is happy about this.

Monday, March 15, 2010

At the top of my list

(and the list is looong)
of things that annoy me.

Those stickers that depict each family member as a stick figure, Mickey Mouse ear wearing stick figure or sport of choice attire wearing stick figure. I can’t even begin to tell you how much I DON’T CARE how many children you have, their names and/or their favorite activity. Today I actually saw a bumper sticker that said,” CAUTION twin babies and a big sister on board!” CAUTION? WHY? What are your children going to do? Is the big sister going to throw the twins out the window? Do I need to look out for cheerios flying out of your window as I pass? Who the hell came up with these anyway?

Perhaps some parent was bummed that their child never got a “perfect attendance or “my child is an honor student of…” sticker so they decided to invent a new way to brag to STRANGERS minding their own business. The only thing more annoying than the family stick figure stickers is the unmistakable baby on board, bright yellow caution sign suction cupped to the window.

“Oh I’m sorry sir, I didn’t see your baby on board sticker, had I seen it I surely would have used my emergency baby on board breaks to avoid a crash.”

“Oh thank you for the caution sign, I would have never known you had a child in your car. The car seat and the suction cup window shade wasn’t a dead give away.”

“Oh my god, look over there. That couple has a baby on board. Let’s catch up and signal for them to pull over so we can chat about how cute their baby is and what sport attire his or her future stick figure sticker will wear.”

Is this the kind of thing these people want to happen? I mean come on, NOBODY CARES. The only time I care weather or not a stranger has a child is if it is crying next to me on the airplane. Perhaps the makers of the baby on board signs could partner up with airlines so the next time I choose my seat I am forewarned; now THAT, I’d care to see.

*the one exception to my sticker hating is the sticker that tells me what kind of dog you have. I happen to care if you have a dog and love it enough to sport a sticker

Saturday, March 13, 2010

Blast from the past...



Abner at 7 weeks old. I'm melting all over again.

Thursday, March 11, 2010

The Clapper would have come in handy...

Last night Ryan and I climbed into bed with heavy eyes and upon getting comfortable realized we hadn’t turned off the light. I looked at him. He looked at me. We stared at each other and just as he motioned to get up I was all, “oh, babe, I would have totally gotten up.” SUCKER! I lay back down and he, in a way only he could, kind of like a giant 5 year old, bounced up and kind of leaped to the foot of the bed. BAM! Our bed hit the floor!

I shot up and looked at him and that is when I said it. The kind of thing you try not to say but somehow, once you open your mouth, you cannot stop the words from coming out. “WHY WOULD YOU DO THAT?” Something so stupid that I immediately regretted saying it because I got the exact reaction I expected. “Oh, because I KNEW this was going to happen! Like I have NEVER jumped on the bed before! Like we never move around in this bed! Yeah, I was SO TRYING to break the bed!” I tried to back peddle but it was too late. There was nothing left to do but laugh.

We spent the next 20 minutes trying to level out the bed which sounds a lot easier than it was. You see, our bed is OLD and the bed frame is tweaked in the middle which is why it was up on risers in the first place. Trying to get all the risers out while holding up a california king sized bed and laughing so hard you are crying makes for quite an interesting experience. Add a husband that gets stuck, squirming under the bed, a neurotic dog that will not come back into the bedroom for fear of being squashed and you pretty much have our Wednesday night. Actually, you pretty much have our LIFE.

After finally getting the bed as level as possible we climbed in and decided we were both now wide awake. One of us fell asleep 3 minutes later, the other lay in bed thinking. Hummm, our bed is quite low to the ground now, I though. I know that proximity to the ground does not make any difference in the way a normal person sleeps, but I am NOT a normal person. I spent quite a long time just laying there, complaining to myself about how my nightstand feels like it is the wrong size, the TV is now too high up to watch comfortably, my feet will surely hit the floor too soon in the morning, and I’m SURE the bed is even more crooked than it was before.

Eventually I feel asleep but not before going through every possible bed scenario. Should we get a whole new bed or should we just get a new bed frame? Should we purchase an organic cotton bed? What kind of a warranty should we get? I like the Tempurpedic bed but I hear they make you hot and I sleep hot so would that work? If we get a whole new bed it won’t match our dresser…will that bother me? Oh who am I kidding…? EVERYTHING BOTHERS ME. I should make a list of question for if/when we go bed shopping. I can see it now. We are in the midst of a recession and the sales man works on commission but he will see me coming with my list and he will run. Smart guy

Wednesday, March 10, 2010

Monday, March 8, 2010

That Traitor SOB

It all started a few years ago when I met a French Bulldog and fell in love with the breed. I was determined that some how, some way, I would have a Frenchie of my own. His name would be Abner and he would be fawn color with a black mask. He would never pee in the house, observe all rules and of course, like me the best.

This obsession with wanting a puppy quickly went from looking at cute pictures of puppies to I MUST HAVE A PUPPY NOW! Kind of like Veruca Salt when she demands one of those adorable squirrels.

Flash forward a few weeks and I have chosen a puppy and am now officially obsessed; but I have to act fast, really fast. The breeder is literally telling me that if I don’t decide within the next hour I may not get MY puppy and more than likely the world will end. Only problem was that I was not exactly ready.

I lived in a place where I could not have a dog, and while I was already planning on moving, I was not planning on it being so soon. Also, there was Lilly, Ryan’s dog and world class puppy hater. Not a problem at that exact moment, but because I did intended on living with Ryan and Lilly in the future it could be. Another small detail, frenchies are expensive. So expensive that I roll my eyes at myself for paying the kind of money I did for a dog that smells like shit and could drop dead at any moment from a bee sting, drowning, overheating or putting his wet nose on the stainless steel fridge ONE MORE TIME! Then, I’d have to kill him!

Anyway, the first problem was solved by moving and the second was solved by my wonderful mother loaning me the money with absolutely no ulterior motives like, oh lets just say, PUPPY BREATH! I totally have not paid her back yet, but I do let her smell Abner’s breath whenever she wants. Love you mom! Only hurdle left was talking it over with Ryan. It went a little something like this.

Me: Babe, what do you think about me getting a puppy?

Ryan: Well, you have wanted one for a long time. I think if you have thought it through and are ready then we can discuss is further and you could probably get a puppy.

Me: OK, sounds good. I’ll think about it and call you back.

…about 10 minutes and 4 emails to the breeder later…

Me: I am getting the puppy! I already put a deposit down.

Ryan: Wow, that was really fast thinking.

Me: I have been thinking about getting this puppy for YEARS!

The next 8 weeks flew by and before I knew it I was getting on a plane to San Diego to get my puppy. I had read a few books in preparation and learned that puppies often cry when they leave their litter mates and I was to give him ample time to adjust. Apparently Abner did NOT read this book. I picked him up and he never looked back. He sat in the car taking it all in, rode up the elevator to my friend’s house and walked straight up to their dog and jumped in his face. He then proceeded to smell every item in their house, pee on the floor and continue looking for trouble and ignoring me. Not much has changed.

When I finally brought him home I was expecting his curiosity to fade and a sweet, cuddly puppy to emerge. I am still waiting. We all know how dogs are supposed to react to their owner coming home after a long day. They are supposed to abandon whatever they are doing and run to us, look at us as though they thought we would never return, jump up and shower us with love. Well, Abner didn’t read that book either. He also failed to read about how he is supposed to listen to the person who feeds him, love the person who wakes up at night to let him pee, and shower the person who cleans up his barf at 4am and nose hair singeing shit with LOVE!

Now I am not saying he is completely void of emotion and doesn’t like me. He does put his giant bunny ears back and fold in half with glee when I come home and he even sometimes gives me a kiss. No, what I am trying to say is that he is giant traitor who LIKES HIS DAD MORE!

How did this happen? I was the one who for 3 months woke up every two hours to let him out. I was the one who narrowly saved his live when he went into anaphylactic shock. I was the one who taught him to walk on a leash; crate trained his whiney ass, took him to puppy school, trimmed his toenails, brushed his teeth, and fed him 3 perfectly portioned meals a day! This is complete bull shit…I AM THE MOM! And all I want is for him to sit on my lap or curl up next to me on the couch and all I see is THIS!

AND THIS…

AND THIS…

NOT TO MENTION, THIS...

Why not put a knife through my heart dog!?

Now I am not saying that Ryan isn’t deserving of all the love he gets from animals. He has that perfect balance of best friend and boss. But what am I, chopped liver? No. If I was chopped liver our dogs would probably want to sit with me and watch Family Guy at night.

It wasn’t enough for him that Lilly is completely obsessed or that Georgia comes out of hiding when she so much as hears his car pull up, NO...he has to be loved by MY dog too. Who does he think he is, SNOW WHITE? I’m going to come home one day and he is going to have blue birds making the bed and little bunnies folding laundry.

I imagine this is what it feels like for fathers who tirelessly coach their sons. Attend hundreds of practices and games. Forego personal time to play catch. Help with college applications. Nervously watch their sons play while being scouted. Loose sleep over weather or not their son will make the draft. All to have their son make the winning touch down and say… HI MOM!

Sunday, March 7, 2010

Where's Waldo?



Abner got in trouble for chasing the cat behind the couch. Best to just stay put and blend in.

Friday, March 5, 2010

Seriously...

I promise to write a real post this weekend, but in the mean time let's talk about KFC! Seriously, a whole chicken breast shoved into a knock off McDonald's hash brown holder! What the fuck are you doing? Gross. I Know it is SO inconvenient to have to eat with UTENSILS but come on, this is disgusting, even for you!

That's all...Happy Friday

Here Comes the Sun



After many days of rain, one likes to lay on his back, chew a good bone, and enjoy the sunshine.

Sorry for the lack of posts lately, I am planning on writing this weekend.

Wednesday, March 3, 2010

The Tube



Watching the Dog Whisperer. Not paying attention, mind you. Just watching and probably mocking "those" dogs. You know, that kind who actually LISTEN, such dorks!