Friday, July 30, 2004
Shopping should be FUN
Wow (again – I know, I’m saying that a lot this trip…) – this laptop is a lot easier to use when it’s actually ON your lap. I had been using it on a chair, pointed out the window of The Mac’s upper floor, the better to pirate his neighbor’s wi-fi signal. It sounds a lot more illicit than it actually is, because the neighbor knows very well that The Mac is using his signal, and grants his blessing. I guess he figured it would be better than having The Mac come over every day to use the connection on their machine…
We’ve endured a lot during the first few days of vacation, but today made it pretty worthwhile. We went to the mall. The mall is great, and I know all the Americans who live here totally take it for granted, but it has good savings. I come from Canada, where everything seems expensive compared to stuff down here. Sure, our dollar sucks compared to the Yankee dollar (even though lately, it has done better than it had been historically), and yeah, there are probably some things that are a better deal in Canada (like maybe electronics for some strange reason, and only at certain times…), but the U.S. has neat stores we don’t have, and stuff in the stores that we might have chains of in Canada is just a little different.
I went to the Meijer (a fantastic large grocery-everything store) the other day, and found two nightgowns – cotton, long t-shirt style, short-sleeves – in bright orange and bright green, for only $3.20 each. THREE DOLLARS EACH!!! Hee!! Now that was a good score. I also got a pillow (since I have managed to forget mine at home and realize that although The Mac is equipped for visitors to an extent, he doesn’t have a lot of extra pillows) for only $3.50. THREE FIFTY!! Again, hee. Seriously – pillows in Canada run between $20 - $50 (if you want a really fancy one). Never, ever for three fifty.
As I was saying, we went to the mall, which has a lot of stores. We went to the Marshall Fields, which seemed to have some fairly nice stuff, but of course, since we all went, I never had enough time to properly scour the place for deals. We wandered partway down the mall, and ran into the Eddie Bauer store – one of my favourites. There were clearance racks with my favourite things, and it was hard not to buy everything. However, we are going to the Outlet Mall about 35 miles away soon, and I wanted to save up for the even better deals. It’s hard to believe there are better deals, but I know they’re out there.
We also went to the Lowes. I know that Gene Hackman does the ads for the Lowes, and was kind of looking forward to a great shopping experience. I was a little disappointed. We’re replacing The Mac’s back door with a security door, due to his recent break-in, during which many of his belongings and his thesis were stolen (now that’s a story he should tell you about). While we are here, I would also like to see linoleum or some sort of proper flooring installed in The Mac’s kitchen and bathroom. Currently, they are both carpeted. This seems… well, just wrong to me. Kind of gross, too, since stuff gets spilled in both rooms that you really wouldn’t want hanging around in carpet, growing, collecting more stuff, building small civilizations and trying to conquer the rest of the house. That stuff is hard to clean, too – requires vacuuming. Linoleum is a way better idea in both rooms. So we looked at the Lowes for lino, too. Hopefully, before we leave, we’ll have lino installed in the bathroom at least. We’re shopping with my father, remember, and according to his credo, many trips to the hardware store will equal better results. You can’t just go the first time and BUY stuff – you have to go, look around, stand around, look at stuff, walk the entire store, and then leave without buying anything at all. We have to go back to the Lowes again on a separate trip just to get the flooring, and then we’ll have to go back to get the tools, and then probably a separate trip for the glue, and maybe another trip for more stuff… it’s going to be a long week, people.
On the way out of the Lowes, The Mac and I were probably giddy from the hardware store, and all that standing around. While we were in there, a woman in a scooter (possibly even a disabled woman) drove up to where we were standing, and forced us to move out of her way, which we did as a politeness. She then stopped, right where we had been standing, and just stayed there. She didn’t want to go by at all, as we had originally thought. However, on the way out of the Lowes’ parking lot, the same woman was driving a PT Cruiser, heading right, where we were heading left. The Mac pulled out far enough to block her view, and vengeance was had. Again, our father was properly mortified at our callous disregard for the handicapped woman’s right to self-determination and an unobstructed view of the oncoming traffic, but we felt justified, and besides, it was pretty hilarious. It took about seven minutes to get out of that turn because she wouldn’t turn.
I have made a rule for the remainder of the trip – no more than TWO people on a shopping expedition at a time. With four of us milling and not sharing many interests, invariably someone gets lost at each store or wanders away from the group. I can’t say how many times I’ve shouted “It’s their fault! They wandered away from the group – I say we just leave!” in the middle of a store, only to be out-voted by the remaining group members. So we then have to search for the missing member, and how do we do that? We split up, probably the stupidest idea ever invented. “One of us is missing – I know, we’ll split up so we’re all alone, and then go look for them…” and then no matter how many of you find one another, there is still always someone missing. It took us 10 minutes just to get out of the Lowes.
Now we didn’t come to the States JUST to shop, we came to see the cars at Meadowbrook Hall, which is not that far from The Mac’s place. We’ll be heading to Detroit on Saturday, and will be leaving my mother here at The Mac’s to tend to the animals. I am trying to get her to go to the spa for a little spa treatment while we’re gone, since she has been nonstop cleaning and gardening since we got here, but she’s funny that way and may or may not go. That means it will be The Mac, The Grumpaw and me in the car. On an overnight trip. It’s kind of scary.
If I survive, I’ll let you know about it.
We’ve endured a lot during the first few days of vacation, but today made it pretty worthwhile. We went to the mall. The mall is great, and I know all the Americans who live here totally take it for granted, but it has good savings. I come from Canada, where everything seems expensive compared to stuff down here. Sure, our dollar sucks compared to the Yankee dollar (even though lately, it has done better than it had been historically), and yeah, there are probably some things that are a better deal in Canada (like maybe electronics for some strange reason, and only at certain times…), but the U.S. has neat stores we don’t have, and stuff in the stores that we might have chains of in Canada is just a little different.
I went to the Meijer (a fantastic large grocery-everything store) the other day, and found two nightgowns – cotton, long t-shirt style, short-sleeves – in bright orange and bright green, for only $3.20 each. THREE DOLLARS EACH!!! Hee!! Now that was a good score. I also got a pillow (since I have managed to forget mine at home and realize that although The Mac is equipped for visitors to an extent, he doesn’t have a lot of extra pillows) for only $3.50. THREE FIFTY!! Again, hee. Seriously – pillows in Canada run between $20 - $50 (if you want a really fancy one). Never, ever for three fifty.
As I was saying, we went to the mall, which has a lot of stores. We went to the Marshall Fields, which seemed to have some fairly nice stuff, but of course, since we all went, I never had enough time to properly scour the place for deals. We wandered partway down the mall, and ran into the Eddie Bauer store – one of my favourites. There were clearance racks with my favourite things, and it was hard not to buy everything. However, we are going to the Outlet Mall about 35 miles away soon, and I wanted to save up for the even better deals. It’s hard to believe there are better deals, but I know they’re out there.
We also went to the Lowes. I know that Gene Hackman does the ads for the Lowes, and was kind of looking forward to a great shopping experience. I was a little disappointed. We’re replacing The Mac’s back door with a security door, due to his recent break-in, during which many of his belongings and his thesis were stolen (now that’s a story he should tell you about). While we are here, I would also like to see linoleum or some sort of proper flooring installed in The Mac’s kitchen and bathroom. Currently, they are both carpeted. This seems… well, just wrong to me. Kind of gross, too, since stuff gets spilled in both rooms that you really wouldn’t want hanging around in carpet, growing, collecting more stuff, building small civilizations and trying to conquer the rest of the house. That stuff is hard to clean, too – requires vacuuming. Linoleum is a way better idea in both rooms. So we looked at the Lowes for lino, too. Hopefully, before we leave, we’ll have lino installed in the bathroom at least. We’re shopping with my father, remember, and according to his credo, many trips to the hardware store will equal better results. You can’t just go the first time and BUY stuff – you have to go, look around, stand around, look at stuff, walk the entire store, and then leave without buying anything at all. We have to go back to the Lowes again on a separate trip just to get the flooring, and then we’ll have to go back to get the tools, and then probably a separate trip for the glue, and maybe another trip for more stuff… it’s going to be a long week, people.
On the way out of the Lowes, The Mac and I were probably giddy from the hardware store, and all that standing around. While we were in there, a woman in a scooter (possibly even a disabled woman) drove up to where we were standing, and forced us to move out of her way, which we did as a politeness. She then stopped, right where we had been standing, and just stayed there. She didn’t want to go by at all, as we had originally thought. However, on the way out of the Lowes’ parking lot, the same woman was driving a PT Cruiser, heading right, where we were heading left. The Mac pulled out far enough to block her view, and vengeance was had. Again, our father was properly mortified at our callous disregard for the handicapped woman’s right to self-determination and an unobstructed view of the oncoming traffic, but we felt justified, and besides, it was pretty hilarious. It took about seven minutes to get out of that turn because she wouldn’t turn.
I have made a rule for the remainder of the trip – no more than TWO people on a shopping expedition at a time. With four of us milling and not sharing many interests, invariably someone gets lost at each store or wanders away from the group. I can’t say how many times I’ve shouted “It’s their fault! They wandered away from the group – I say we just leave!” in the middle of a store, only to be out-voted by the remaining group members. So we then have to search for the missing member, and how do we do that? We split up, probably the stupidest idea ever invented. “One of us is missing – I know, we’ll split up so we’re all alone, and then go look for them…” and then no matter how many of you find one another, there is still always someone missing. It took us 10 minutes just to get out of the Lowes.
Now we didn’t come to the States JUST to shop, we came to see the cars at Meadowbrook Hall, which is not that far from The Mac’s place. We’ll be heading to Detroit on Saturday, and will be leaving my mother here at The Mac’s to tend to the animals. I am trying to get her to go to the spa for a little spa treatment while we’re gone, since she has been nonstop cleaning and gardening since we got here, but she’s funny that way and may or may not go. That means it will be The Mac, The Grumpaw and me in the car. On an overnight trip. It’s kind of scary.
If I survive, I’ll let you know about it.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
I'm on vacation - what do you want?
Wow. I just wrote a great long post for this log, but it got somehow deleted by the vagaries of The Mac’s pirating of his neighbor’s wi-fi signal. The Mac warned me that that might happen, but I didn’t listen, so here I am (again).
OK. I was telling the tale of how we got here. We have arrived, and everyone is alright (thankfully!). The NoodleDog and I left home on Sunday morning around 7:30a, but once we hit the Calgary city limits, I remembered that I forgot some medication at home, and had to go back for it. That put me behind by about 20 minutes (after some creative interpretation of the speed limit) getting to Strathmore to meet up with my parents. We met up, and were off.
The first day was pretty uneventful. We got into Saskatchewan, and it just kept getting hotter and hotter. The NoodleDog had to be transferred to the parents’ air-conditioned vehicle, and I just kept getting hotter and hotter. Midway through Saskatchewan, I started pouring water over my head to keep cool.
We crossed the border without so much as a “Can I see your dog’s Rabies Certificate, Ma’am?” and made it to Minot the first night. Minot shuts down around 9p on a Sunday (except for the 24 hr WalMart), but we eventually found a hotel. It was not dog-friendly, however, and the only room my father could get was RIGHT beside the lobby. He was not given a choice, and we had to sneak the NoodleDog through the back door. We also had to install his anti-bark collar to prevent him from making noise. He’s a noisy dog.
Monday was a fine day for driving, and we saw deer on the side of the road just as we left Minot. We also saw a stunning amount of roadkill along the roads. North Dakota really needs to install fences or something along the roadways to cut down on that carnage. We encountered kamikaze birds (the Kamikaze Birds of North Dakota), and managed to survive that, too. We ended up stopping in Mauston that evening. I think we could have made it to The Mac’s, but it would have been midnight, and the NoodleDog was tired of being in the car. The hotel we found, thanks to the Grumpaw’s handy Super 8 guide, was dog friendly, too, so that was kind of relaxing.
Tuesday, we made it to The Mac’s. We had to go through Chicago to do it, and I was leading. I have successfully navigated the mean streets of Chicago (Ok, the interstate) at least twice, and we all thought it would work out OK. We were wrong. We were supposed to take the Skyway, and I even managed to find the exit to the Skyway at the very last second, but the parents got cut off by a semi, so I couldn’t see them any more. Then, as we’re approaching the Skyway, my mother comes across the two-way radio “Do you have a dollar fifty?”
“What?” I ask, completely perplexed by the question.
“A dollar fifty. You need a dollar fifty to get through the toll.”
“Oh. OK.” And off I go, searching through my purse and wallet, which wasn’t the best idea considering I was driving at the time. I subsequently missed the exit ramp, and we were all re-routed back onto the I-94.
There were recriminations and gnashing of teeth, and an eventual blowout between my parents as to who could read a map. Somehow, after all of this, the Grumpaw ended up in my Tiny Car, and I ended up driving the minivan with my mother and the NoodleDog in it. However, we prevailed, and my mother’s map-reading skills helped us find the toll road after all.
We’re here, in the company of The Mac’s two cats, The Merlinator (after whom his own site is named) and Riley (who has made herself scarce due to the presence of the NoodleDog – he scares her). Also with us is his Mythical Wog (Snowy), who is now the NoodleDog’s bestest friend in the Universe. More about our friends in the next post – I have to go do some more shopping now.
NoodleJ Out.
OK. I was telling the tale of how we got here. We have arrived, and everyone is alright (thankfully!). The NoodleDog and I left home on Sunday morning around 7:30a, but once we hit the Calgary city limits, I remembered that I forgot some medication at home, and had to go back for it. That put me behind by about 20 minutes (after some creative interpretation of the speed limit) getting to Strathmore to meet up with my parents. We met up, and were off.
The first day was pretty uneventful. We got into Saskatchewan, and it just kept getting hotter and hotter. The NoodleDog had to be transferred to the parents’ air-conditioned vehicle, and I just kept getting hotter and hotter. Midway through Saskatchewan, I started pouring water over my head to keep cool.
We crossed the border without so much as a “Can I see your dog’s Rabies Certificate, Ma’am?” and made it to Minot the first night. Minot shuts down around 9p on a Sunday (except for the 24 hr WalMart), but we eventually found a hotel. It was not dog-friendly, however, and the only room my father could get was RIGHT beside the lobby. He was not given a choice, and we had to sneak the NoodleDog through the back door. We also had to install his anti-bark collar to prevent him from making noise. He’s a noisy dog.
Monday was a fine day for driving, and we saw deer on the side of the road just as we left Minot. We also saw a stunning amount of roadkill along the roads. North Dakota really needs to install fences or something along the roadways to cut down on that carnage. We encountered kamikaze birds (the Kamikaze Birds of North Dakota), and managed to survive that, too. We ended up stopping in Mauston that evening. I think we could have made it to The Mac’s, but it would have been midnight, and the NoodleDog was tired of being in the car. The hotel we found, thanks to the Grumpaw’s handy Super 8 guide, was dog friendly, too, so that was kind of relaxing.
Tuesday, we made it to The Mac’s. We had to go through Chicago to do it, and I was leading. I have successfully navigated the mean streets of Chicago (Ok, the interstate) at least twice, and we all thought it would work out OK. We were wrong. We were supposed to take the Skyway, and I even managed to find the exit to the Skyway at the very last second, but the parents got cut off by a semi, so I couldn’t see them any more. Then, as we’re approaching the Skyway, my mother comes across the two-way radio “Do you have a dollar fifty?”
“What?” I ask, completely perplexed by the question.
“A dollar fifty. You need a dollar fifty to get through the toll.”
“Oh. OK.” And off I go, searching through my purse and wallet, which wasn’t the best idea considering I was driving at the time. I subsequently missed the exit ramp, and we were all re-routed back onto the I-94.
There were recriminations and gnashing of teeth, and an eventual blowout between my parents as to who could read a map. Somehow, after all of this, the Grumpaw ended up in my Tiny Car, and I ended up driving the minivan with my mother and the NoodleDog in it. However, we prevailed, and my mother’s map-reading skills helped us find the toll road after all.
We’re here, in the company of The Mac’s two cats, The Merlinator (after whom his own site is named) and Riley (who has made herself scarce due to the presence of the NoodleDog – he scares her). Also with us is his Mythical Wog (Snowy), who is now the NoodleDog’s bestest friend in the Universe. More about our friends in the next post – I have to go do some more shopping now.
NoodleJ Out.
Friday, July 23, 2004
The posting continues...
Friday... countdown to vacation: 45 hours. I suppose since I won't be at work after this afternoon, we could technically say that countdown to vacation is actually 7 hours.
Although I did not have lunch yesterday, I snacked with abandon. My boss, possibly the nicest boss ever, brought in a tray filled with various brownies/bars/tarts/sickeningly-sweet-edibles from a wedding he had been to on the weekend. Yes, it was several days old. I don't think that stuff degenerates, though, because it is mostly just plain sugar. He left this tray right in the "kitchen" (which is actually just a room that we put a table and chairs in, along with a fridge and a microwave. The absence of a sink may negate it's kitchen-ness, but it serves), and we were encouraged to eat this stuff. So I helped myself to SIX items. One was a butter-tart-lookin' thing that along with the raisins unfortunately contained not only contraband coconut, but chocolate chips. Chocolate chips in a butter tart? Yes, and I can say with some authority that although chocolate chips are good (nod to my father, here), they do not belong in a butter tart.
This site is dedicated to my NoodleDog, who (as I have said before) is an actual dog. He's a basset-lab cross. He looks like a lab (black), but the basset influence over his body shape is remarkable. He's like a lab low-rider - short! He has big basset feet, too. The NoodleDog is my pride and joy. I have signed him up for Agility Training with Tammy (a very patient and excellent teacher). We go on Wednesday evenings, and this past Wednesday was just the second class. He did very well at the "Weave Poles" - a kind of a slalom thing for dogs. Basically, the owner (that's me) runs up to the obstacle yelling "Go weave!! Go weave!!" and the dog is supposed to understand that this means you want him to go around the poles in succession, weaving in and out. The first time he had absolutely no idea what I wanted him to do, not recognizing the word weave (duh! Maybe because he had never heard it before?), so he barked at me (which he does a lot). Tammy The Teacher kind of directed him towards the weave pole obstacle entrance, but he did not get the idea until I told him "this side!". He understands "this side" because that is what I say when he goes around the wrong side of a tree when we're walking. So he got that trick fairly quickly, and did pretty well with it that night.
However, after the Weave poles, we moved on to the Teeter-totter. The NoodleDog hates the teeter-totter. It will be our undoing in any competition (ha! as if we'll ever get that far...), I'm sure. He approached it alright, kind of understood that he needed to go onto it because there were metal gates blocking either side, so he got onto it alright, too. When he got to the middle, though, and the teeter-totter slammed down to the other side, it freaked him out and he jumped off, probably vowing never to go near it again. So we had to force him to go back onto it again, because if a dog abandons any obstacle during the course, you have to wait for him to get it right before moving on. Three times, Tammy The Teacher and I had to coax him (each of us endlessly saying "good dog, good little man, you can do it!! Good boy!! Come on...") up the teeter-totter, each time taking longer than the last. He wouldn't even eat his treats while on the teeter-totter, which is completely abnormal behaviour for him (he'll usually eat anything anytime). He was such a spectacle that after he completed the teeter-totter run, the lady who was giving out treats to the good dogs who did the tricks properly gave him some anyway, probably feeling sorry for his pansy ass. He then identified her as a food source, and stared at her for the rest of the evening.
The NoodleDog's repertoire of things he can eat contains practically everything. The NoodleDog eats not only his food, and the cats' food, and sometimes MY food, but also wood (including twigs, branches, leaves, pinecones, chips, sawdust and paper), toys (stuffed toys' stuffing, the outsides of the stuffed toys & their tags, and tennis balls in their entirety), shoes (only the one time did he try to eat a very nice expensive pair of shoes I should not have bought for budgetary reasons, for which he was punished by an extended stay in his crate), socks (although I know of only one sock he actually ate, I am missing a number of socks), earrings, cat hair, my hair, and dead things he finds outside (much to my dismay). The exception to his list? Canned mandarin oranges. Spits 'em right out.
The NoodleDog and I went on a date last night. I shamelessly use the NoodleDog as a "date activity". If you want to meet up with me, chances are I'm going to suggest we take the NoodleDog for a walk. I have two reasons for this: a) it is an unthreatening activity in public and is kind of fun and loosely time-limited, and b) it means I'll actually accomplish something and even if the date totally sucks I still get something done (walk the NoodleDog, which I have to do anyway). Hopefully that doesn't sound too... selfish? Fortunately, the guy I met (blind internet date alert!) has a dog of his own - a 3-month old border collie puppy. My main hope for the evening (aside from that the guy didn't turn out to be a jackass, which he didn't - he's actually very nice and I'd like to see him again) was that the NoodleDog did not eat the small puppy. Luckily, though, he did not try to eat the puppy, who was probably about the cutest little puppy you have ever seen. Really. He's three months old, a border collie with just a dash of regular collie thrown in, so he's exceedingly fluffy and cute, with a mainly black & white body, but with white, smoke grey, and the regular collie tawny colouring around his face. Basically everyone we ran into at the dog park commented on his cuteness. Plus, and I'm not sure if I'm the only one who gets this, his little tiny baby teeth were pretty cute, too. The NoodleDog's teeth are big now. When I first got him he was about five months old, and hadn't started teething, so he had little baby teeth, and they were pretty cute. His teeth now are just functional and not at all cute. Especially when he puts them on my arm - rotten dog. Eventually, I'm going to have to start brushing his teeth because pet dental care is frickin' expensive.
If you learn nothing else from this log, leave with the lesson that you need to brush your pet's teeth - cat, dog, whatever. My experience with cat dental care is that aside from being unholy expensive, the cat doesn't get to keep any of its damaged teeth. They do not make cat fillings. They do not indulge the bridge on a cat. There are no root canals for the kitties. If your cat has a cavity, the tooth comes out, and then you're left with an angry cat when you get home, and then a very sad cat after he forgets why his tooth is missing. I'll introduce you all to my many cats in later posts, but my first cat, Rumble, had his fangs removed on both sides which he took as a serious violation, and he has never really been the same since. Trauma! So brush your pets' teeth, I mean it.
While they will not make dental fillings and accessories for your pets, they will make them for wild birds. I caught a very interesting show one morning in which an organization had rescued a Bald Eagle who had had part of his beak shot off. Seriously! They put out a plea for help, and this dentist guy responded, and said he could probably fashion something for the poor eagle to rebuild his beak. He used dental cement stuff, and made a replacement part for the eagle's beak, and installed it on the poor guy. The first one fell off because it wasn't anchored right, but the second one stuck, and now the eagle can rip stuff up with his beak again. I thought that was an exceptionally cool story, and the eagle was pretty pleased afterwards, too.
The NoodleDog and I are going on vacation, as I mentioned yesterday, to visit The Mac, who lives in Indiana. The drive is being done in convoy fashion with my parents, who are taking their minivan. Someone foolishly asked why I don't just go with them, in their car, and after I finished laughing, I explained. My parents tend to argue a fair amount, which I cannot stand, but that is not the least of it. I just can't be in the same vehicle with them for an extended period. They don't really dig talking in the car. They will not tolerate my "horrible" music in the car (!), so I'd have to listen to their stuff, which I can totally stand, but come on, not for three days at a time. Also, hello, convertible. If I didn't drive it, what would be the point of paying all this money for it? This will all work out better because the NoodleDog, the Tiny Car and I will have a "support vehicle". Like the Hell's Angels. When those guys go on an extended trip, they take a support vehicle, so they can put all their stuff in it. Last time I visited The Mac, my Tiny Car's trunk was jammed full of stuff, and so was the passenger seat. This time, I have to bring the NoodleDog, all his stuff, and all my stuff, so it's really, really nice to know I will have room, even if that space is in another vehicle. Really, all I have to have with me are the snacks and tunes. The last time I went down there, as well, I suffered heatstroke because by the time I got to the Saskatchewan border, it was a million degrees out (ok, +38C, which is really, really hot), and I "forgot" I had air conditioning (hey, I had never had to use it before, ok?). The NoodleDog can't take the heat that well, so if it gets really hot, he can ride in the air-conditioned vehicle with my arctic-temperature-loving mother. See? This is fantastic. It also gives me an opportunity to use my two-way radios (which I bought for the Miata Club trips). I can chatter at them. I'm not sure what "handle" to give my father. The Mac and I were discussing it, and I totally forgot what we had selected. "Grumpy Pete" or "Prospector Pete" or "Prickly Pete", or something like that. Those handles should give you the idea that my father is a little... grumpy. ESPECIALLY about the NoodleDog.
For some reason, Grumpy Pete, or "The Grumpaw" as I refer to him for the NoodleDog's sake, does not like the NoodleDog. How someone could not even like the NoodleDog, I cannot understand. The NnoodleDog is a happy dog. He loves everyone. He likes to lick (which although disgusting is not at all fatal), he likes to play, he likes everyone to be happy. He's fairly cute, too, and lovable. He has cute brown eyes, and he'll tilt his head in the cutest way as if to say "look at me - I'm so lovable! Love me!". But The Grumpaw doesn't really like him at all. I think the NoodleDog makes him nervous. The Grumpaw accepted the cats fairly well (even though he grumbled the whole time about all of them), but the cats are quiet, move more softly, are subtle, and tend less to jump on you. The NoodleDog is not in the least subtle. He's unpredictable, occasionally loud, and I have to remark that dogs are stiffer than cats. Cats are remouldable, kind of, like you can move them around and they resist less. Dogs are just stiff, and it's not that they don't want to be moved around, they just don't move that way. Anyway, even with those differences, the NoodleDog is pretty damn cute and a fairly nice dog, and if the Grumpaw would just talk to him like a regular dog (i.e say "Noodledog, sit!" rather than "hey, dog, you there, sit. Sitsitsit, go and siddown, wouldya sit?"), things would go much more smoothly.
As you can imagine, I'm thinking this vacation is gonna be pretty interesting. I'm sure I'll have lots of stories to post when I get back.
Until then!!
Although I did not have lunch yesterday, I snacked with abandon. My boss, possibly the nicest boss ever, brought in a tray filled with various brownies/bars/tarts/sickeningly-sweet-edibles from a wedding he had been to on the weekend. Yes, it was several days old. I don't think that stuff degenerates, though, because it is mostly just plain sugar. He left this tray right in the "kitchen" (which is actually just a room that we put a table and chairs in, along with a fridge and a microwave. The absence of a sink may negate it's kitchen-ness, but it serves), and we were encouraged to eat this stuff. So I helped myself to SIX items. One was a butter-tart-lookin' thing that along with the raisins unfortunately contained not only contraband coconut, but chocolate chips. Chocolate chips in a butter tart? Yes, and I can say with some authority that although chocolate chips are good (nod to my father, here), they do not belong in a butter tart.
This site is dedicated to my NoodleDog, who (as I have said before) is an actual dog. He's a basset-lab cross. He looks like a lab (black), but the basset influence over his body shape is remarkable. He's like a lab low-rider - short! He has big basset feet, too. The NoodleDog is my pride and joy. I have signed him up for Agility Training with Tammy (a very patient and excellent teacher). We go on Wednesday evenings, and this past Wednesday was just the second class. He did very well at the "Weave Poles" - a kind of a slalom thing for dogs. Basically, the owner (that's me) runs up to the obstacle yelling "Go weave!! Go weave!!" and the dog is supposed to understand that this means you want him to go around the poles in succession, weaving in and out. The first time he had absolutely no idea what I wanted him to do, not recognizing the word weave (duh! Maybe because he had never heard it before?), so he barked at me (which he does a lot). Tammy The Teacher kind of directed him towards the weave pole obstacle entrance, but he did not get the idea until I told him "this side!". He understands "this side" because that is what I say when he goes around the wrong side of a tree when we're walking. So he got that trick fairly quickly, and did pretty well with it that night.
However, after the Weave poles, we moved on to the Teeter-totter. The NoodleDog hates the teeter-totter. It will be our undoing in any competition (ha! as if we'll ever get that far...), I'm sure. He approached it alright, kind of understood that he needed to go onto it because there were metal gates blocking either side, so he got onto it alright, too. When he got to the middle, though, and the teeter-totter slammed down to the other side, it freaked him out and he jumped off, probably vowing never to go near it again. So we had to force him to go back onto it again, because if a dog abandons any obstacle during the course, you have to wait for him to get it right before moving on. Three times, Tammy The Teacher and I had to coax him (each of us endlessly saying "good dog, good little man, you can do it!! Good boy!! Come on...") up the teeter-totter, each time taking longer than the last. He wouldn't even eat his treats while on the teeter-totter, which is completely abnormal behaviour for him (he'll usually eat anything anytime). He was such a spectacle that after he completed the teeter-totter run, the lady who was giving out treats to the good dogs who did the tricks properly gave him some anyway, probably feeling sorry for his pansy ass. He then identified her as a food source, and stared at her for the rest of the evening.
The NoodleDog's repertoire of things he can eat contains practically everything. The NoodleDog eats not only his food, and the cats' food, and sometimes MY food, but also wood (including twigs, branches, leaves, pinecones, chips, sawdust and paper), toys (stuffed toys' stuffing, the outsides of the stuffed toys & their tags, and tennis balls in their entirety), shoes (only the one time did he try to eat a very nice expensive pair of shoes I should not have bought for budgetary reasons, for which he was punished by an extended stay in his crate), socks (although I know of only one sock he actually ate, I am missing a number of socks), earrings, cat hair, my hair, and dead things he finds outside (much to my dismay). The exception to his list? Canned mandarin oranges. Spits 'em right out.
The NoodleDog and I went on a date last night. I shamelessly use the NoodleDog as a "date activity". If you want to meet up with me, chances are I'm going to suggest we take the NoodleDog for a walk. I have two reasons for this: a) it is an unthreatening activity in public and is kind of fun and loosely time-limited, and b) it means I'll actually accomplish something and even if the date totally sucks I still get something done (walk the NoodleDog, which I have to do anyway). Hopefully that doesn't sound too... selfish? Fortunately, the guy I met (blind internet date alert!) has a dog of his own - a 3-month old border collie puppy. My main hope for the evening (aside from that the guy didn't turn out to be a jackass, which he didn't - he's actually very nice and I'd like to see him again) was that the NoodleDog did not eat the small puppy. Luckily, though, he did not try to eat the puppy, who was probably about the cutest little puppy you have ever seen. Really. He's three months old, a border collie with just a dash of regular collie thrown in, so he's exceedingly fluffy and cute, with a mainly black & white body, but with white, smoke grey, and the regular collie tawny colouring around his face. Basically everyone we ran into at the dog park commented on his cuteness. Plus, and I'm not sure if I'm the only one who gets this, his little tiny baby teeth were pretty cute, too. The NoodleDog's teeth are big now. When I first got him he was about five months old, and hadn't started teething, so he had little baby teeth, and they were pretty cute. His teeth now are just functional and not at all cute. Especially when he puts them on my arm - rotten dog. Eventually, I'm going to have to start brushing his teeth because pet dental care is frickin' expensive.
If you learn nothing else from this log, leave with the lesson that you need to brush your pet's teeth - cat, dog, whatever. My experience with cat dental care is that aside from being unholy expensive, the cat doesn't get to keep any of its damaged teeth. They do not make cat fillings. They do not indulge the bridge on a cat. There are no root canals for the kitties. If your cat has a cavity, the tooth comes out, and then you're left with an angry cat when you get home, and then a very sad cat after he forgets why his tooth is missing. I'll introduce you all to my many cats in later posts, but my first cat, Rumble, had his fangs removed on both sides which he took as a serious violation, and he has never really been the same since. Trauma! So brush your pets' teeth, I mean it.
While they will not make dental fillings and accessories for your pets, they will make them for wild birds. I caught a very interesting show one morning in which an organization had rescued a Bald Eagle who had had part of his beak shot off. Seriously! They put out a plea for help, and this dentist guy responded, and said he could probably fashion something for the poor eagle to rebuild his beak. He used dental cement stuff, and made a replacement part for the eagle's beak, and installed it on the poor guy. The first one fell off because it wasn't anchored right, but the second one stuck, and now the eagle can rip stuff up with his beak again. I thought that was an exceptionally cool story, and the eagle was pretty pleased afterwards, too.
The NoodleDog and I are going on vacation, as I mentioned yesterday, to visit The Mac, who lives in Indiana. The drive is being done in convoy fashion with my parents, who are taking their minivan. Someone foolishly asked why I don't just go with them, in their car, and after I finished laughing, I explained. My parents tend to argue a fair amount, which I cannot stand, but that is not the least of it. I just can't be in the same vehicle with them for an extended period. They don't really dig talking in the car. They will not tolerate my "horrible" music in the car (!), so I'd have to listen to their stuff, which I can totally stand, but come on, not for three days at a time. Also, hello, convertible. If I didn't drive it, what would be the point of paying all this money for it? This will all work out better because the NoodleDog, the Tiny Car and I will have a "support vehicle". Like the Hell's Angels. When those guys go on an extended trip, they take a support vehicle, so they can put all their stuff in it. Last time I visited The Mac, my Tiny Car's trunk was jammed full of stuff, and so was the passenger seat. This time, I have to bring the NoodleDog, all his stuff, and all my stuff, so it's really, really nice to know I will have room, even if that space is in another vehicle. Really, all I have to have with me are the snacks and tunes. The last time I went down there, as well, I suffered heatstroke because by the time I got to the Saskatchewan border, it was a million degrees out (ok, +38C, which is really, really hot), and I "forgot" I had air conditioning (hey, I had never had to use it before, ok?). The NoodleDog can't take the heat that well, so if it gets really hot, he can ride in the air-conditioned vehicle with my arctic-temperature-loving mother. See? This is fantastic. It also gives me an opportunity to use my two-way radios (which I bought for the Miata Club trips). I can chatter at them. I'm not sure what "handle" to give my father. The Mac and I were discussing it, and I totally forgot what we had selected. "Grumpy Pete" or "Prospector Pete" or "Prickly Pete", or something like that. Those handles should give you the idea that my father is a little... grumpy. ESPECIALLY about the NoodleDog.
For some reason, Grumpy Pete, or "The Grumpaw" as I refer to him for the NoodleDog's sake, does not like the NoodleDog. How someone could not even like the NoodleDog, I cannot understand. The NnoodleDog is a happy dog. He loves everyone. He likes to lick (which although disgusting is not at all fatal), he likes to play, he likes everyone to be happy. He's fairly cute, too, and lovable. He has cute brown eyes, and he'll tilt his head in the cutest way as if to say "look at me - I'm so lovable! Love me!". But The Grumpaw doesn't really like him at all. I think the NoodleDog makes him nervous. The Grumpaw accepted the cats fairly well (even though he grumbled the whole time about all of them), but the cats are quiet, move more softly, are subtle, and tend less to jump on you. The NoodleDog is not in the least subtle. He's unpredictable, occasionally loud, and I have to remark that dogs are stiffer than cats. Cats are remouldable, kind of, like you can move them around and they resist less. Dogs are just stiff, and it's not that they don't want to be moved around, they just don't move that way. Anyway, even with those differences, the NoodleDog is pretty damn cute and a fairly nice dog, and if the Grumpaw would just talk to him like a regular dog (i.e say "Noodledog, sit!" rather than "hey, dog, you there, sit. Sitsitsit, go and siddown, wouldya sit?"), things would go much more smoothly.
As you can imagine, I'm thinking this vacation is gonna be pretty interesting. I'm sure I'll have lots of stories to post when I get back.
Until then!!
Thursday, July 22, 2004
NoodleJ's first post to NoodleDog
OK. I'm not really sure how a blog works, but I'm starting one anyway. Instead of annoying my family with individual e-mails filled with neat links and stuff, I can annoy everyone all at once!!
Lessee... I have a job (boring!), a Tiny Car, and a townhouse with a very tiny yard that the pets wish was bigger, a small herd of cats, and one dog (hence the title - a Noodle Dog, although he is an actual dog, and not made of noodles. It's a term of endearment, ok?).
I'm particularly excited today because my holidays are coming up, and I am going to visit my brother, The Mac. The NoodleDog is coming, but the cats are not.
I'm starting this "blog" (and yeah, the word wigs me out a bit because it sounds... not good) because I have a lot of time on my hands since my job is boring! I used to have a very busy job where I had no time for anything at all, work work work all the time, but I quit it. I quit it to come and work here, which is a very lovely place, and the people are very nice. However, the first time I came here, early this spring, the woman I was supposed to replace "unquit", and then I had nothing to do since I was going to take over her portfolio. My boss, who is probably one of the best bosses ever, said he would still keep me on, and I could build up my own portfolio with new properties (because I manage properties), and it would all be great. Except it wasn't, and after about four days of sitting in this VERY OFFICE, losing my mind to the boredom, my friend T called and offered me her job because she was going to a Much Better one. So I jumped at the opportunity, not feeling too bad about leaving here because, really, I was just taking up resources, and they didn't NEED me.
Then I went to the Interim Job. It was fantastic, my boss was again a pretty nice person, quite smart, snazzy dresser. The entire office was staffed by women. I had never worked in a single-sex environment before, but I didn't mind it. They were all pretty nice. However... after I left here, the woman I was supposed to replace who "unquit" "requit", and my (former, at the time) boss didn't have anyone to manage that portfolio. I had recommended he contact my (former, at the time) partner, Bargains, if he ever needed anyone. She was still working at the Bad Place we had both worked, and eventually my (former, at the time) boss was able to convince her to come here.
After she got here, however, she called me lots trying to convince me to come back. After a couple of months of her doing that to me and the boss, he agreed to make me another offer. And it was a good offer, and verily, I could not refuse. I called The Mac's friend, Harrington, and told him to apply for the Interim Job, and told them I was leaving because I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to work with Bargains again. And thus, it was done, and I returned here. And coincidentally, Harrington got a much better job than he had before (well, more dough, anyway).
So I've been here for... 2.3 months, and now I'm going on holidays. That's the secret to success, people - keep moving. Anyway, the reason I have time on my hands is that instead of having a full portfolio to manage, I have only FIVE properties (which is not a lot at all, seeing that I managed over 20 at the Bad Place), and they are all small. Four of them are commercial, which means that there are not very many meetings, and one of them is in a small town not far from where I live. It also means I don't have much to do with my days, so I have a lot of time to read, surf the 'net, write e-mails to various people... I've been working on some marketing materials for this company, but it's hard because I'm not that creative. I'm not creatively-challenged or anything, but not being, say, a graphic designer, it takes me a long time to put a brochure together.
If you live in Calgary, though, and are on the Board of your condo and are unsatisfied with your current management, try looking us up. The company starts with a "G", and ends in "ateway", and you should be able to find us in the phone book. Ask for the newest manager.
Lessee... I have a job (boring!), a Tiny Car, and a townhouse with a very tiny yard that the pets wish was bigger, a small herd of cats, and one dog (hence the title - a Noodle Dog, although he is an actual dog, and not made of noodles. It's a term of endearment, ok?).
I'm particularly excited today because my holidays are coming up, and I am going to visit my brother, The Mac. The NoodleDog is coming, but the cats are not.
I'm starting this "blog" (and yeah, the word wigs me out a bit because it sounds... not good) because I have a lot of time on my hands since my job is boring! I used to have a very busy job where I had no time for anything at all, work work work all the time, but I quit it. I quit it to come and work here, which is a very lovely place, and the people are very nice. However, the first time I came here, early this spring, the woman I was supposed to replace "unquit", and then I had nothing to do since I was going to take over her portfolio. My boss, who is probably one of the best bosses ever, said he would still keep me on, and I could build up my own portfolio with new properties (because I manage properties), and it would all be great. Except it wasn't, and after about four days of sitting in this VERY OFFICE, losing my mind to the boredom, my friend T called and offered me her job because she was going to a Much Better one. So I jumped at the opportunity, not feeling too bad about leaving here because, really, I was just taking up resources, and they didn't NEED me.
Then I went to the Interim Job. It was fantastic, my boss was again a pretty nice person, quite smart, snazzy dresser. The entire office was staffed by women. I had never worked in a single-sex environment before, but I didn't mind it. They were all pretty nice. However... after I left here, the woman I was supposed to replace who "unquit" "requit", and my (former, at the time) boss didn't have anyone to manage that portfolio. I had recommended he contact my (former, at the time) partner, Bargains, if he ever needed anyone. She was still working at the Bad Place we had both worked, and eventually my (former, at the time) boss was able to convince her to come here.
After she got here, however, she called me lots trying to convince me to come back. After a couple of months of her doing that to me and the boss, he agreed to make me another offer. And it was a good offer, and verily, I could not refuse. I called The Mac's friend, Harrington, and told him to apply for the Interim Job, and told them I was leaving because I just couldn't pass up the opportunity to work with Bargains again. And thus, it was done, and I returned here. And coincidentally, Harrington got a much better job than he had before (well, more dough, anyway).
So I've been here for... 2.3 months, and now I'm going on holidays. That's the secret to success, people - keep moving. Anyway, the reason I have time on my hands is that instead of having a full portfolio to manage, I have only FIVE properties (which is not a lot at all, seeing that I managed over 20 at the Bad Place), and they are all small. Four of them are commercial, which means that there are not very many meetings, and one of them is in a small town not far from where I live. It also means I don't have much to do with my days, so I have a lot of time to read, surf the 'net, write e-mails to various people... I've been working on some marketing materials for this company, but it's hard because I'm not that creative. I'm not creatively-challenged or anything, but not being, say, a graphic designer, it takes me a long time to put a brochure together.
If you live in Calgary, though, and are on the Board of your condo and are unsatisfied with your current management, try looking us up. The company starts with a "G", and ends in "ateway", and you should be able to find us in the phone book. Ask for the newest manager.
