Dog Park Karma

A while back, I made a resolution to take the mutts to the dog park more often.

As far as dogs go, ours are pretty much living the dream. They have a nice supply of bones and high dollar dog food, get plenty of table scraps, are allowed on the furniture, get at least one walk each day, have a giant yard to run around in in Texas, miles of forrest trails to roam in Colorado, plenty of squirrels to chase and we only dress them up silly costumes every couple of years.

I tried to make an effort to socialize them early and often but in our neck of the woods, dogs aren't really welcome out and about. (Although that is slowly changing - yay!) A couple of years ago they built a new dog park not too far from our house aptly named Wiggly Field. It's a dog's paradise - trees, grass, a small pond, a bigger pond with a trail around it and lots of booties to smell.

Deuce and Dakota aren't always the most popular dogs in the park. They want to be part of the crowd, but they have spent too much together and play too rough for some of the dogs. I sometimes wonder if they watch Wild Kingdom when I am not at home to learn new moves. They don't play chase very well either. They are a little like kids in junior high - trying just a bit too hard to fit in.

Last fall I was trying not to be a helicopter parent - read: wasn't paying close enough attention - and Deuce ran over to a picnic table where a few older folks were sitting and hiked his leg and tried to pee on a lady. I was so embarrassed and apologized profusely before slinking away.

Last week, I was standing in the park watching them try to act like normal dogs when I felt something on my leg. I turned around quickly and there was a slobbery bulldog owned by an old guy who hiked his leg and peed on me.

Thanks Deuce - I guess I deserved it and I will take one for the team.

Time is not on my side

Has is really been six weeks since I posted? Yeah, pretty much.

It's not like I haven't thought about it. Remember that scene in European Vacation? The one where they are trapped in the traffic circle and they just keep going around and around. Look kids, Big Ben, Parliment!

I find myself in the traffic circle of way too busy and chronic procrastination. When I am not in one boat I am in the other.

So, you ask, what have I been doing? Working, planting the garden, running a couple of half marathons and a full marathon, and heading to Jersey for the Rockstar's Dad's surprise birthday party. I also read some books, planted some flowers, walked some dogs and watched some TV. Pretty riveting stuff!

I am hoping to get back in the groove though, so stay tuned.

Buzzword Overkill

My work life has recently been unsatisfying.

There was the smallest bonuses in years (and by bonus, I mean "we are going to give you less base salary so we can give you a BOUNS! And then we will screw you on the bonus, so really . . . we got you both ways!). Next came meager raises and another round of RIFs looming in the not so distant future.

This joy was followed up by the influx of a new group to my cubicle area. Prior to this, one other lady and I were spoiled. We were the only two people in a large bank of cubes. It was our domain and we were happy damn it. I took one day off and a flock of people moved in and now surround me. My special favorite is the lady who verbalizes a stream of consciousness all day long. This is how I know that she hasn't ever started a 401K because saving for the future is dumb, is spending her meager bonus on granite counter tops for her trailer house, must poop on a specific schedule, and must have a smoke break every two hours. She also takes conference calls on a blasting speakerphone several times a day. No one is in there with her and she doesn't ever even speak. I know more about what their group does than she does I am quite sure.

Her friend has set up an audible message each time she gets an email - at least 40 times a day I hear "Mistress, you have mail." Sigh.

I haven't had to listen to them this week though, as I have been sequestered in a conference room with 15 of my new closest pals tasked with a high profile project of redesigning and merging some systems. After the first day filled with terms like agnostic platforms and bifurcated processes I wanted to cry. After the second day of quick wins, low hanging fruit, speed to market and client accessibility I was ready to put a bullet in my head. By day three, I was numb.

On the bright side . . . a nice lady wheeled in a cart of fresh baked cookies each afternoon. Makes it all worthwhile. I am living the dream.

I'm back!

Lately, I have been a whole lot of UNs: unmotivated, uninterested, uninspired, uncomfortable in my jeans.

DFW got 12 inches of snow on Thursday and Friday - a record amount. It was fabulous! I worked from home and played in the snow with the dogs. The Rockstar and I squandered the weekend herding the mutts through the slush and watching the Olympics with a few bottles of wine. Things are looking up around here!

I usually don't remember my dreams, but last night I had 3 distinct dreams that woke up remembering in detail. Two of them had a similar theme. In one, I was visiting a mental hospital, talking to the the patients. When I wasn't paying attention, the crazy folks stole my bag, and I started freaking out - mostly because it was full of stuff. Tons of stuff. Papers and books and a laptop and running shoes and dog bones and on and on. They just kept pulling stuff out of the bag and it was piled up everywhere. I was desperately trying to get it all back and under control, but the doctor wouldn't help me. He told me just to relax and it would all work out. Not so subtle huh?

The other dream had me on a plane. I was eavesdropping on some other passengers who were bad mouthing Thai food (huh?) and the flight attendant came by to pass out free samples of Mary Kay (again, huh?). I had my backpack open with piles of stuff all over the seats and the floor and the aisle. All of a sudden the plane landed and people started getting up and stomping all over my stuff before I could get it picked up. I was freaking out again trying to jam it all back in the bag.

Clutter is cluttering my subconscious.

Happy Friday!

Things that made me happy recently:

leaving work early to get a mani/pedi (complete with complementary boxed white wine)

seeing a guy in a suit running through a parking lot and jumping up to ride the shopping cart with his kids laughing hysterically

winning my fantasy football league! $500 and bragging rights!

an upcoming trip to see the Rockstar and the mutts

seeing the countries of the world unite to provide assistance to the people of Haiti

(maybe it's not fast enough, and maybe it's not perfect, but at the most basic level, people want the same things. they want to be happy, to be good people and to help others.)

Out with the aughts, in with the tens

Normally, the new year jump-starts me. I make lists, I get invigorated. This year? Not so much. I am not sure what the problem is, but I just can't get motivated. (I can't even get my new years post out before mid month - yeesh!)

I have always been interested in many many things. As a kid my answer to "What do you want to be when you grow up?" changed at least every month. I come from a family of nerds and voracious readers, so I was never at a loss for subject material or projects. One year in elementary school I got the award for reading the most books over the summer.

As I got older, not much has changed. I still jump in and out of things pretty often. I am a certainly a dilettante. I have piles of half finished projects, unread or half-read books on a hundred different subjects. Sometimes it wears me out just thinking of all the things that I want to learn, try or experience before I leave this planet.

Therein lies part of the problem. I spend a lot more time thinking than I do doing.

Last March I made a list. I have a bad habit of losing interest in things quickly. My follow-through is not nearly as great as my start. I worked hard to come up a well rounded list that contained items that would be beneficial and fun and keep me interested and engaged. So in lieu of resolutions, I will continue to work on my list. I have been making progress, but it's hard to believe that 9 months have gone by.

So for 2010, my words are action and focus. I want to spend a lot more time out conquering and a lot less time holding down the fort. I need to focus on being present in each moment and making the most of every day. On making day-to-day life easier by reducing clutter and establishing some routines. I am not supposed to spend all my time and energy tending my stuff, so I won't. 2010 . . . here I come!

By the way . . . what do we call this decade? The tens? The teens? The tweens?

And on the eighth day . . .

Growing up in Texas, you really can't help being a football fan. It is unavoidable. It doesn't matter who - high school, college, pro. Hell, they even managed to sell out arena football games in this state!

The Dallas Cowboys were the team of choice in our household. I can remember learning the details of football from my Dad during the glory years of the late seventies and early eighties. Roger Staubach, Drew Pearson, Ed Too-Tall Jones (recently spotted on a Geico commercial), way too many of my childhood photos wearing my favorite t-shirt: And on the eighth day, God created the Dallas Cowboys. (Hello parents? Didn't you hear of laundry day? Or maybe a haircut that didn't involve a bowl?)

Growing up, I was told I could be anything I wanted to be when I grew up. I believed it. So I wanted to be a pilot, a doctor and a Dallas Cowboys cheerleader. A woman can have it all, right?

The cowboys enjoyed another high period during my college years. Good times all around. Then, it all went wrong. For a long time. We went through coaches faster than most people go through socks, had quarterbacks old enough to be my grandpa, our owner had more plastic surgery than Joan Rivers, and we had this:

But finally, after 13 LONG years, the ship has been righted, at least for today. We finally have a playoff win! Now, this may mess up my vacation plans, but . . . . Go Cowboys!