Apparently I have somehow injured my left eye, making it not only painful and my vision blurry, but also incredibly light-sensitive.
I’ll be limiting my computer time until it heals up, so bear with me!
Archive for August, 2008
I have been running like a landlocked, female Michael Phelps, trying to get this place updated and tidy. I suppose it would have been easier to compare myself to a female, American Usain Bolt with all my running around, but I just didn’t like his showboating. Ahh well.
A storylet for you, while you wait on my scattered self to get together. A friend of mine asked if there were any Jewish delis in my area, with the suggestion that I buy knishes. After giggling for a minute or two, my response was:
“You forget, dear, I’m in podunk Alabama. Were I to ask for a knish around here, they’d likely hand me a sock or something!”
Case in point: I was in the grocery store a few nights ago, and a little boy ran up to the kosher foods section (which is about six shelves high, a foot and a half long, nestled next to the Asian section of the same size), grabbed a box of Matzo mix, ran it up to his parents and demanded to know what it was.
Mom says, “Mayt-zoo?” with a most uncomprehending expression.
Dad puffs up and says authoritatively, “You don’t want that, son. German people put it on cornflakes.”
At which point, I literally had to clamp my teeth down on my bottom lip to keep from howling with laughter.
One day, I hope to have enough rejection letters to paper an entire wall of my office.
I have been extremely fortunate in one very important regard: I have no problem with rejection. I have no problem having my work criticized, cast aside, and passed over. Every single time I’ve received a rejection letter, I’ve followed it up with an alternative query. More often than not, this gets me accepted or, at the very least, puts me in an editor’s mind enough to ensure future work.
Truly, I owe my high-school journalism teacher major gratitude for this. In the midst of her constant praise of my writing came the many criticisms, both constructive and not, for various articles I handed in to her. In the beginning of our “working” relationship, I was not adept with this criticizm, and one day found myself in tears after what I thought were beautiful words were torn to pieces by this tiny little red-haired leprechaun. She looked me dead in the eye and said, “If you never learn to accept that some of your work is bad, you’ll never appreciate that most of your work is excellent. Don’t expect it to be bad, else that’s all you’ll produce. Just give yourself the freedom to write, and the discipline to edit without mercy, and your good will always outweigh the bad.”
Even back then, I hated to admit when she was right. But thank the stars I got over it, because I couldn’t have accomplished anything without that particular lesson.
Here I am again, pandering for animals and my favorite pet-rescue organization, “PAWS” (Pets Are Worth Saving). This time, all you have to do is click on two links. Couldn’t be easier!
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
Free Food for Abandoned and Abused Animals is Just a Click Away!
The Animal Rescue Site is a great website that donates food to feed abused and neglected animals. The concept is simple: for every click over to their site .6 bowls of food is donated. We’re sharing the following message to help get the word out because the site is having trouble getting enough people to stop by.
See? Simple.
Please tell ten friends to tell ten today! The Animal Rescue Site is having trouble getting enough people to click on it daily to meet their quota of getting free food donated every day to abused and neglected animals.
It takes less than a minute (How about 20 seconds) to go to their site and click on the purple box “Click here to give-it’s Free”. if you can save the site on your computer you can donate each day.This doesn’t cost you a thing. Their corporate sponsors/advertisers use the number of daily visits to donate food to abandoned/neglected animals in exchange for advertising.
Please pass this along to people you know.
If you’re forgetful, like me, there’s even a place to sign up for a daily email reminder. It’s time to get clicking.
_________________________________________________________________________________________________ 
_________________________________________________________________________________________________
I’ve made some slight alterations to the front page, and will be loading new articles into the Fiction/Non-fiction headers soon. Be sure to refresh your cache so you can see the changes, and go peek at the front!
Living in Alabama provides a lot of “moments.” Odd moments. Eyebrow-raising moments. Snort-Dr.Pepper-through-your-nose moments. Cringe-worthy moments. And, of course, the “please let me stifle my laughter so I don’t insult or embarass this very nice, very countrified gentleman/lady” moments.
One of my favorite such moments involved a very sweet octogenarian lady, her granddaughter, and their very enthusiastic poodle.
Mikey (my schnauzer) and I were going for one of our romps in the park. He absolutely adores his park time, and gets very excited when he sees other dogs. Overly excited, really. I’m working with him on that…he just seems to think that frantic barking and leaping is the appropriate way to greet other dogs with whom he would like to play. I’ve tried explaining that many people think that he’s saying less “Play with me, new friend!” and more “I’ma eat you up if you get within fifteen feet of me! Bring it on!” But, you try explaining things to a schnauzer. It takes some time.
Anyway.
This particular day saw Mikey behaving unusually well. So when I saw this adorable older lady and her granddaughter heading toward us on the path, I simply clicked for Mikey and stepped a bit to the side to let them pass. Mikey gave a single greeting bark to the poodle, and the curly-mop dog immediately started over to say hello. In a move that is very unusual for most dog-walking folks, the lady and girl were very open, very friendly, and immediately started chatting with me. Yay! I love that! It’s frightfully uncomfortable when humans don’t converse while their dogs are sniffing each other’s rear ends. Someone really needs to say something while this is going on, otherwise you begin feeling incredibly awkward, like you’re being forced to watch a beastial documentary that will put you first in line for firey pits.
On this day, however, I discovered something even more uncomfortable than being forced to be the unwilling audience to a canine nose-butt-circle fest.
Apparently, Mr. Poodle is, shall we say, still packing. Un-neutered. Mikey has been neutered since he first got old enough for the operation, and hasn’t seemed to mind the missing dangling bits since. He still gives off male pheromones though, since neutering doesn’t alter that part of their biology. And it would seem that Mr. Poodle likes the scent of other fellows. About two minutes into our chattering conversation, the sweet little old lady in the orange sun-visor and bright pink track suits chortles, “Lookit Jacque’s lipstick! He’s got his lipstick out! Oh my goodness! His lipstick is just right there! Jacque! Put that lipstick away!”
Lipstick? Grand-daughter and I are immediately confused, though at least she seemed to have an idea who “Jacque” was. At that moment, I hear Mikey make the most uncomfortable sound, and glance down to see him backing up towards me, staring at Mr. Poodle with the most frightened look in his big brown eyes. As he bumps into my legs and immediately lunges behind me (wrapping me in his leash, by the way), I realize who Jacque is and why Visor Grandma is so appalled at him for bringing out the cosmetics.
Oh yes, Jacque is displaying his “lipstick” for the world to see. Now, I’ve volunteered in veterinary clinics and owned several dogs, so I know that the male genitalia sometimes becomes erect when they need to urinate, when they smell an unfamiliar female dog’s scent, etc… not just when they are sexually stimulated. But Jacque was clearly primed and ready to go, and Mikey had fled the moment he realized what the Frenchie had in mind. This would have been funny enough. But the granddaughter’s reaction to her grandma’s bellows of “Jacque! No lipstick! Bad lipstick! Bad Jacque!” was enough to send me into convulsions of laughter. Luckily, my precarious position–I’m not all that balanced in normal circumstances, but having a freaked-out schnauzer wrapping me in a leash while trying to pull me in a Jacque-less direction puts me in a whole new league of klutzy danger–prevented me from focusing on the hilarity at hand, thus salvaging the poor girl’s sensibilities.
Finally, she literally dragged her grandmother and the romance-lovin’ Jacque away, mouthing “I’m so sorry!” as she retreated. I consoled my poor, traumatized Mikey and led him in the opposite direction, back toward home, and tried my best not to give in to the tears of laughter that were fighting their way out.
The fight was totally lost, though, when I heard that six-decades-of-cigarettes-roughened voice drifting across the park, “Jacque! Leave that boy alone!”
Oh dear.
This came through my inbox via the pet rescue organization that my aunt-in-law helps to run. A Boston Terrier Society contacted the rescue organization for help.
Fair warning, this is terribly disturbing and upsetting, and contains two equally upsetting photographs.
Dear Benefactors:
A severely injured Boston Terrier was dumped through a shoot at a shelter in Chilton County, Alabama, on 31 July 2008, and he was immediately rescued by Donna Farmer, President of the Birmingham Boston Terrier Rescue, and taken to the office of Dr. Julie Grimes, DVM, in Birmingham, where his is now receiving urgent medical care, including both pain management and infection prevention.
He has sustained severe and painful wounds to his back and neck . We suspect that hot grease was poured on him, but cannot rule out the likelihood that we was used as training bait for fighting. His injuries are nothing short of horrible. Despite all that he has been through, his disposition remains very sweet. His recovery will be protracted and costly.
We have named him Al. Here are two photos:
What can you do to help Al?
(1) You can sponsor him through our Sponsorship Program.(2) You can buy merchandise from our Boston Boutique.
(3) You can mail or drop off a contribution directly at our veterinarian’s office:
Dr. Julie Grimes, DVM
Altadena Valley Animal Clinic
2898 Acton Road
Birmingham, Alabama 35243
205-967-7330
(MasterCard, Visa, etc., accepted)(4) You can mail or drop off a contribution at:
Regions Bank – Any Branch Office (click here for location nearest you)
Account Name: Birmingham Boston Terrier Rescue, Inc.
Account Number: 3010071725(5) You can make an on-line donation through PayPal by clicking here.
(6) You can let us know that you would like to send a check or make a contribution using MasterCard, VISA, American Express, or Discover by sending an email to boston@bhambtr.org with your contact information so that we may reach you.
Here is some further information on the Boston Terrier Rescue center:
BhamBTR leaves no stone unturned in assuring the best possible future for the adopting family and, most importantly, for the Boston Terrier being placed. A lengthy screening and education process is done before an application is approved. An adoption contract is completed, and post-placement follow-up is done. An adoption fee is charged to cover the tremendous veterinary expenses incurred by BhamBTR.
All members of BhamBTR are volunteers who are Boston Terrier owners themselves and are deeply dedicated to the welfare and safety of the breed. Every member of our team undergoes the same screening process that is applied to all potential adopters. Over the course of the past year, our volunteers have driven hundreds of miles across the Southeast to rescue Boston Terriers and Boston-Terrier mixes in need. BhamBTR volunteers have participated in screening potential adopters and have educated each other in the best ways to care for and train a Boston Terrier. BhamBTR volunteers have worked dog fairs and fund raisers to generate donations to help with expenses. Most importantly, though, is that each member has opened his/her home and heart to assist BhamBTR in caring for rescued Boston Terriers while they are in foster care.
All medical-care decisions are made by one or more of BhamBTR’s four board members: Donna Farmer, President; Amy Sanford, Vice President; Meredith Warren, Secretary; and Austin Cooper, Treasurer and Web—all of whom have worked with various other rescue organizations prior to the establishment of BhamBTR. We have several excellent veterinarians across Alabama from which we receive counseling and guidance. In addition, we work closely with sister rescues, Southern Cross Boston Terrier Rescue and Boston Terrier Rescue of East Tennessee, among others. To date, we have individually rescued and re-homed well over 200 Boston Terriers and Boston-Terrier mixes. Our rescue efforts have been exponentially successful; and in 2008, we will likely double the number of dogs rescued just during the previous year.
We sincerely hope that you will consider becoming a member of our team.
Thank you for your generosity! We appreciate your help and so do these dogs!
How could anyone, ever, look at that sweet face and deliberately harm this guy? The cruelty of humankind is a terrifying reality. Luckily, the goodness of humankind can always eradicate the evil.
Can you help poor Al?
Two of my friends are pregnant! I’m so happy for them, I am.
But I’m also terrified.
They both live in Alabama, same as me. Is there something in the water that I should be wary of?
*grabs bottled Fiji and hides*
Perhaps I’m simply in a bad mood. Heaven knows that’s not unheard-of…but…I’ve heard a lot of my friends say things like “There’s no such thing as a good person or a bad person,” “people aren’t evil, there are just good and bad choices,” etc etc, and it’s driving me up the wall.
There ARE inherently GOOD people in the world. Just like there ARE inherently BAD people in the world. And yes, EVIL people exist! Ask any parent who has had their infant raped and murdered by a family friend, and see if they disagree about the existence of evil.
I understand mental defects, personality disorders, and every psychological problem that exists. These are factors that cause a person to be considered more or less evil than someone else who does the exact same thing, but with different mental capacities. The fact remains, however, that some people are just evil.
Furthermore, there are plenty of things that can make one a bad person. Far less severe than an “evil” person, a bad person is one who simply does not care about anyone but themselves, doesn’t mind inflicting emotional or physical pain, and is completely unconcerned about anyone or anything outside of their own sphere of influence. Do these things make them evil? Well of course not. Do they make a person less than good, less than what they could be, and by association “bad”? It depends on the severity, I would imagine.
But please, people. Let’s stop romanticizing the world, stop telling each other that “Oh, that doesn’t make you a *gasp* bad person or anything, you just made a lifetime of bad decisions!” Hell’s bells, what else does that make them? It’s not an irrevocable situation, just because you’ve been a shit of a person up until now doesn’t mean you are forever doomed to be a shit, but let’s call an apple and apple and move on in life.
I’m back!
It’s insane how much I missed my internet connection while there. Granted, I did jack a few wireless networks while traveling, but I was never certain enough of my connection to toss passwords around. This is why I now have a new wireless card on order! Safe travels for all!
Vegas was fantastic. Well, most of Vegas was fantastic. There was a lot of construction going on, as they are in the process of building a new “City Center” next to the Bellagio (where we stayed), thus causing some easy-access roads to be cut off. Which, of course, led to us getting completely turned around at one point. After about 45 minutes of pavement pounding in the 115 degree heat, I realized, “Ummm, hey? I’m starting to get cool.” Waves of cold washing over a blisteringly hot body is never a good thing, doncha know. So we ducked into a CVS and started opening Gatorade and candy in the aisles, alongside a few other folks doing the very same thing. Fun! Luckily, we traipsed directly to Circus Circus and rode the “Rim Runner” for a great big splash of water. Yeah, a few of the ride names in Circus Circus are oddly perverse. Rim Runner, Canyon Blaster, etc. I was giggling like a sixth-grader hearing the words “Do it!” repeated in innocent conversation.
I’ll post more when I get the pictures all loaded up. For now, I’m faced with a dusty house and three furbabies who refuse to let me out of their sight. Gooses!