Thursday, January 31, 2008
Monday, January 28, 2008
A good story has a beginning, middle, and an end. Perhaps that's why movies that lop off the ending completely get mixed reviews. Some people appreciate the lack of a clearly stated ending to No Country for Old Men, or preferred to apply their own imagined ending to The Sopranos.
Personally, I prefer an ending. Call me old-fashioned, but somehow when I immerse myself in a movie, or tv show, or book, I am taking a break from the uncertainties of my own life. Before I got married, it was the uncertainty of ever finding someone who I would truly love and who would love me in return. And when I would watch a sappy romantic comedy, I would admire the notion that here was a story, including the before, during, and end - happy or not, of a romance.
Now I get to deal with other uncertainties... will we ever be out of debt? Will we ever own a home? Will we have a child of our own? Will I stay at home or work? Will I ever go back to losing weight and achieve my goal? So I'm here, in the middle of my middle, and there are many endings I have yet to reach. I don't see any new beginnings headed my way for a while, so in middle-earth I'll wait.
And while I'm waiting, I'd like to enjoy the end of somebody else's story. It doesn't have to be a happy ending, I'm not one of "those" people. Just tell me a good story. Tell me where it begins, what happens in between, and what happens in the end. Maybe it will help me to appreciate my own middle more (in more ways than one).
Thursday, January 17, 2008
Wednesday, January 16, 2008
I much more enjoy going home for lunch now than I did before, and I'm a little more motivated as well. Today I made iced tea while I was heating up my lean cuisine, and then we played fetch and watched The People's Court. Judge Milian RULES! hehehe
Friday, January 11, 2008
At first, I was somewhat afraid to tell my parents and my mentor that we were leaning towards getting a dog. I felt that it was a somewhat irresponsible decision as far as time and money were concerned. But when I told my parents, they were very understanding and didn't bat an eye. When I told my mentor, she was understanding and almost had the "of course" reaction. So I felt an odd sense of peace about it. It didn't make much actual sense, because even to start everything up (bed, collar, leash, adoption fee, etc) was at least $200.
And then tonight, as Scout and I were walking around the apartment complex, I felt this incredible peace. The world made sense again, I was enjoying a brisk walk with my very well-behaved dog, burning calories and relaxing at the same time.
I have some work I had to take home because I got it under the wire today, and I'm sitting here plugging away on a powerpoint presentation, yet I'm reminded by a little wagging tail that "every little thing's gonna be alright." I'm intentionally listening to some David Crowder Band, which I haven't really felt like doing in a while. It's like the God of the Universe is using this little shaggy dirty mutt to remind me to take some time to just be. Be at home. Be outside on a walk. Be alive!
So tears come to my eyes because I can't remember the last time I really just felt glad to be where I am, which is currently at home, yet working on a project for my church, while Aaron and Nathan laugh in the living room, and occasionally I hear the clink of metal tags on a small black collar. I'm not feeling guilty for being holed up in front of the computer, I'm not feeling sorry for myself over what I don't have yet, and I'm not staying in bed until the last possible minute in the morning anymore. I look forward to getting up, even when I'm tired, to taking Scout outside and feeding her. And then I get to sit on the couch and watch Good Morning America with my coffee and my dog and not feel rushed to do anything in particular.
I'm pretty sure we made the right decision in getting this dog. In fact, I'm pretty sure this decision wasn't all ours, and that somebody was looking out for us and made sure we got just the dog we needed.
Plus it's motivating me to finish reading To Kill A Mockingbird, since I just went with Aaron and Joe's opinion that Scout was one of the most awesome characters to grace the page.
How marvelous, how brilliantly
Luminous, You shine on me
And who can fail to give You awe
To fear You, God, so sovereign and strong
What a glorious day
What a wonderful day, today
What a glorious day
What a wonderful day, today
Wednesday, January 2, 2008
This is the long and somewhat sordid tale of our search for a dog.
It all started with our friends' dog, Otis. Otis is part Pug, part Boston Terrier. He is basically an awesome dog who really pushed Aaron and I over the edge as far as wanting one soon. Aaron wanted a dog exactly like Otis, and me, I would have settled for a pug. We agreed, in November, to talk about getting a dog in February.
Then there was the IGE weekend in Big Bear. En route, we discovered that a friend of a friend was going to be giving away some pug puppies. Yes, giving away. So we got our name on that list quickly, and waited a couple weeks to hear how many puppies there were and when we could get ours. We were anxiously awaiting the arrival of our little puppy.
Then came the sad news of how our Mama Pug gave birth to 8 little puppies, only to have 2 of them survive. Those two had already been spoken for, leaving us feeling a bit disappointed. We really discovered just how badly we wanted a dog.
So we decided to go looking at shelters. You hear all the time that shelters are a great place to find a great dog, right? You're a hero, you're saving a poor little dog from a terrible fate, it's less expensive than buying a purebred puppy, it's humane, yada yada yada. Well, maybe if you have the option of having any size dog. But when you are limited to a 30 pound weight restriction and a small apartment, really, it's a fight to get a dog in that range. Want a puppy? Forget it! On our first visit to the Rancho Cucamonga animal shelter we found this guy the shelter was calling Nutter. This picture doesn't really do him justice, but here he is. He was a sweet dachsund-beagle mix (yes, I wanted to call him the Oscar Meyer Snoopy Dog), who warmed up to us immediately in the meet & greet room.
Our happy little bubble got burst when someone from the shelter came in the room and said he had just been approved for adoption to another family, so they took him out and we were quite sad. We went looking at several other shelters, but no one compared to this guy and his little perma-puppy face (he was full-grown but still had the look of a puppy). We were out of town for the weekend so we gave it a rest with the shelters, but went back today and got to meet someone who we are hoping to bring home very soon. We tried to adopt her today only to find out she's not available until tomorrow (doh!) because of the holiday. So we'll be there when the shelter opens at 1pm to secure her for sure. Her name is going to be Scout, and she is the sweetest mangy mutt you'll ever meet. Aaron was convinced he wanted a male dog, someone to be his buddy, but when she ran into the room and went straight to him, she had him. :) I'm very excited, but trying to keep my head on straight in case we have yet another shelter mishap. I think the worst that could happen is that her owner could claim her today, but I am doubtful of that happening.
So here is her picture from the website, not very flattering, and a couple I snapped while we were in the meet & greet room with her.