October 2006

After my encounter last night, I wanted to read up on this fascinating breed of dog.  So, I’ve been researching Pit Bulls.  This particular dog was the second Pit Bull I’ve met in my life - and they were honestly two of the friendliest dogs I’ve ever come across. Very playful and affectionate —-to people.  They chase cats….what dog doesn’t?  Even Wednesday would if he could see it, hear it, or wasn’t intimidated by it.

After reading a few articles, I started thinking - I wanted to come back and make sure that I didn’t give an unfair representation of the breed.  It chased the cats, just as a beagle, German Shepherd, Poodle, or Lab would have done.  It never growled at me, and never once made me feel unsafe or threatened.  I was scared to death for my beloved cats, but never for myself. The only reason I mentioned the breed was out of respect to its strength, determination, and speed.  They’re like body builders who happen to be track stars. Amazingly strong and fast.

At any rate, HERE’s an interesting post about the breed and its PR problems. If I weren’t such a cat person and didn’t have a small, helpless dog - I wouldn’t hesitate for a minute to buy a Pit Bull puppy and make him part of the family.  I mean, I tackled this guy twice and only got slobbered on as a result. 

Joi

I know you’ve heard the phrase never a dull moment - well now you get to meet the person whose life it was coined for.

Hello, how are you? Me? Oh, I chased, wrestled and rolled with a pit bull last night. My body hurts.  I had the first asthma attack I’d had in years. A few of my cats have post traumatic stress syndrome.  I wasn’t cut out for this sort of thing. I’m a cooking in the kitchen, hanging out at the coffee shop kind of gal - decidedly not a pit bull tamer.

The dog in question - (during the ruckus I named him “Damn Dog!”) - somehow found our very guiet, fence-enclosed cat and deaf dog sanctuary. Normally, it’s just the 5 of us humans, a small, almost totally deaf and nearsighted, older dog and five cats. Damn Dog! was particularly interested in the cats.

It’s puzzling how he even got back here. We live on the outskirts of town, behind a business that’s protected by a metal, password-protected gate. D.D! either knew the code or has discovered a LARGE hole in one of the fences. Or can fly.

We first saw him when a few of my girls and I got back from the store. Wednesday (our little dog) came out of the garage, par usual, to greet us. Then something par unusual happened - out came a large, muscular dog behind him. None of the cats were around at the time - and D.D. really didn’t seem interested in causing problems for Wednesday….until my smart little boy growled up at him. The pit bull wasn’t too happy about that. He was, however, happy about me - he wanted to be my bestest buddy. He kept standing up with his paws on my shoulders licking my face. Fortunately, of all the things I’m scared of, dogs aren’t one of them. He was a sweetheart to me and never posed a danger at all (to me).

But, like I said, we have 5 cats and a much smaller, disadvantaged dog, so my oldest daughter and I lured him away - on the other side of the mechanical gate. I took a package of hot dogs for him which he ate before we even got out of our driveway. Big ol’ mouth. I finally got him on one side of the gate and me on the other…which took some doing because he was convinced that he was my dog and I was his…I dunno….mom?

After a while, when I looked way up at the main gate, I didn’t see him - so I thought “Good, he went home.” I wanted more than anything for him to get somewhere safe - I felt for sure he was someone’s dog. He was the picture of health and wasn’t the least bit afraid of anything.  Or anyone.

So, later I’m out in the yard - putting Wednesday’s sweater back on him, fresh from being washed in Woolite. I saw our smallest cat, Alexa in the driveway and was walking toward her to oooh and ahhhh, tell her how cute she is…you know that sort of thing. Then, out of nowhere Damn Dog! comes flying at Alexa (this is where I name him) and like a scene from a nature show….or a nightmare….he chases her, snapping at her tail. Of course, I’m running, in sock feet, after them screaming his new name, which he refuses to answer to. I launch onto him and we go down, and Alexa takes flight up a tree. D.D! starts licking my face - it at least lets me know I’m still alive. By now, my asthma’s pretty angry and breathing isn’t coming easily. I put my arms around his neck and try to convince him to let me help him along - to my van. I figure I’ll drive to every house within a mile and ask if they’re missing a large, cat chasing bundle of strength.

Just as we’re edging along in the dark, with Alexa watching from on high - another of our youngest cats, Bo, comes creeping over to see what all the fuss is about. He sees D.D! at the same time D.D! sees….and wer’e off again. Once again, the dog is right on the home team’s butt….once again I dive onto Damn Dog’s butt and Bo propels himself up yet another tree. Thankfully, God’s a cat lover and we live in a yard with lots of trees.

By now, I’m totally amazed that this dog hasn’t eaten my face off yet. He just kept licking it - and doing the paws on the shoulder thing that really didn’t amuse me much anymore. Fortunately, my husband heard the yelling from inside the house and came out to help. We put him (the dog, not the husband) into the van and off we went to find his home.

Bo and Alexa are pretty jumpy today, and I can hardly move. The picture at the top of the post is Bo looking up at the tree that saved his life.  He’s nothing if not dramatic.  Wednesday doesn’t seem to know anything went on - he’s pretty much in his own little world. But I’ve given him strict orders, no more entertaining friends while were away.

Joi

 To be perfectly honest, politics is giving me a headache to end all headaches.  I hate the commercials, I hate the smug, holier-than-thou photo ops, and I HATE the tacky little yard signs littering up what should be beautiful autumn landscapes.  What lame duck would vote for someone because they recognize their name from a bright yellow sign?  The sort of person who does that shouldn’t even be allowed off of their property, let alone allowed to vote.

I saw a headline recently that had the nerve to ask, “Do You Ever Feel Stressed?”  Come on, who doesn’t?! 

I honestly can’t even begin to imagine the sort of life a person would have to live that would put them completely out of touch with stress. I probably came about as close as you could come when my husband and I were first married.  I was a young (19) housewife who soon became pregnant with her first precious little girl.  No job-related worries or stress, because my “job” was cleaning house, taking care of a perfect baby, shopping, and cooking meals.  It’s kind of a hoot for me to look back now and realize that my biggest daily dilemna used to be “lasagna or manicotti?” 

Yet, even then there were nights that consisted of 4 hours of sleep, feelings of homesickness (he was in the military and we were miles and miles away from home), and so on.

We all have our own levels of stress, and what seems stressful to one person isn’t even on another’s radar. I remember being all kinds of stressed out over an MRI I was scheduled for - and no one understood.  My husband, my mom, my doctor….everyone thought I was a nut job (either that or they were trying to downplay the whole thing hoping I’d come down from the ceiling). But being claustrophobic, I was beyond terrified.

What’s stressful to one person may or may not be to another - and it really doesn’t matter, in the end, how anyone else feels….it’s the person inside the stress that gets to say how bad it is!  I sometimes have to remind myself of this when one of my girls is stressed out about school work, an assignment, or an argument with a friend.  Part of me wants to say, “Oh, honey, that’s nothing…” - but that’d be a lie.  It is something.

Anyway, with this self help blog, a mental fitness blog and a mental fitness website - I spend a lot of time researching stress and its effects.  The effects are, to be perfectly honest, horrifying.  Stress can lead to just about every medical nightmare you can imagine - and it’s unbelievably sneaky about it.  It drives you to the sick ward without you even realizing it.

I can’t stress how important it is to deal with STRESS.  I’ve rounded up three fun stress busters and listed them below.  Try each and see which works best for you.  When you find it - put it on a repeat cycle!

1. Watch a scary movie.  Is this a perfect time of year for that or what?  Several months back, things in our home biz were all kinds of chaotic. There were great things happening, but they were all happening at once. They buried me under their good intentions.  Then one evening, my daughters and I watched The Hills Have Eyes.  Oh, yeah - we screamed, we shouted, I grabbed the arms of my chair…we had a grand old time.  Afterwards, I felt different.  Exhausted, sure, but also lighter as though something had been lifted.  The experience had taken the worries, frustrations, deadlines, and gotta dos off of my back and piled them in a corner.  I didn’t even realize how heavy they were until I was no longer packing them around!  The next day, I retrieved them from the corner and got to work.  I was refreshed and found that I was able to concentrate much better.  It seems to me that the screaming released pent up energy and anxiety.  I’ve actually heard that screaming releases pain as well.  Remember that next time you stub your toe.
2. Dance.  Put in a Nelly Furtado, Justin, Jay Z, or Fergie Ferg CD and get busy.  Tear it up!  The music, itself, lifts your mood and the movement is a perfect tension tamer.  
3. Snuggle with a loved one.  That can mean a sweetie, a daughter, a son, a cat, two cats, three cats, four cats, five cats, a dog, or any combination of the above.  Affection - giving and receiving - makes you feel on top of the world.  

 And if you’re on top of the world, it can’t be on top of you.

Joi

That simple, unpretentious little quote is one of my favorite quotes ever.  I can just picture the little guy (and his lady) wheeling along….and wheeling along….and wheeling along…  All the while being passed by those who were bigger, faster, stronger, sleeker.  Yet in the end - because of his perseverance, the snail made it just as surely as the cheetah did. 

Encouraging for those of us who are closer to the snail than we are to the cheetah.

As Henry Wadsworth Longfellow put it, “Perseverance is a great element of success.” You could have tons of great traits going for you, but without the determination and perseverance to suceed, failure looms large. Below are some other great quotes about perseverance:

“Perseverance is a great element of success; if you only knock long enough and loud enough at the gate you are sure to wake up somebody.” - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

“When the world says,  ‘Give up,’ Hope whispers, ‘Try it one more time.’” - Author Unknown

“Nobody trips over mountains.  It is the small pebble that causes you to stumble.  Pass all the pebbles in your path and you will find you have crossed the mountain.”  - Author Unknown

“Fall seven times, stand up eight.”  - Japanese Proverb“The greatest oak was once a little nut who held its ground.”  - Author Unknown“If one dream should fall and break into a thousand pieces, never be afraid to pick one of those pieces up and begin again.” - Flavia Weedn

Amid soul jarring sneezes, I turned to Dr. Google to find a cure for allergies.  Sure, it was asking a bit much from her….or him…but you can’t think clearly when you’re sneezing your brain cells loose.  I’m pretty sure I lose a few, and the good Lord knows I haven’t many to spare.Of course, I didn’t find the cure, but I did find a really sweet website that’s full of great medical information from a medical arena that fascinates me:  Herbal Remedies and Super Foods.  Their main intention is to sell you herbs and other health products, and you may or may not wish to buy from them.  I think most of what they sell can be found cheaper in a local department store or pharmacy. 

My youngest daughter and I were in our favorite Dairy Queen a few weeks ago - getting all kinds of busy with a Mushroom and Swiss Burger and Onion Rings (Oh My Gracious God, them’s good…).  We saw an adorable little, elderly man come in and approach the counter.  We couldn’t help but smile mid-bite when we saw the reaction of the women behind the counter - they each jumped, smiling ear to proverbial ear, trying to get to him first.  The one that made it “Honeyed” him to within an inch of the law.  After she gave him his order, she even offered to help him out with it.

Joi

I was thinking earlier about something I’d recently done - nothing cloak and dagger, mind you - just something I did one way that I would like to have done another way. 

I got annoyed with myself and did what any rational, reasonable person does - I started searching high and low for someone else or something else to take the fall.  Husband?  Daughter #1? Daughter #2? Daughter #3?  The dog?  The cats?  The fact that there are only 24 hours in the day?  I nearly had that last one dead to rights, but then I realized that the blame isn’t out there it’s in here.  If I didn’t (and I didn’t) get something all the way accomplished that I wanted to, it’s no one’s fault but my own.

Sure, it would be splendiferous of life to cough up more hours for each day, but I’m working with the same number that everyone else is.  If there aren’t enough for me, yet there are enough for others - I’m the one who needs a kick, not the clock.

Like everything else in life, it boils down to one basic word:  Decisions.  We make a million of them each day - and our world stretches or shrinks as a direct result of these decisions.  Whenever I’m at my computer staring eye to ink at my to do list, I have two decisions:

1. Sit there and crank out the work until the to dos are all to dones, or - 
2. Grab the keys, purse, whatever daughter(s) are handy and flee the scene, usually in the direction of the mall or coffee shop. 

This past week, I saw fit to flee just about every day - and it wasn’t the mall OR coffee shop, it was both!  Sure, it was hellacious fun while it lasted, but the result (piled up work, backed up projects….) is just hellacious. The to do list is now 4 times longer than before and it’s maaaaad.

All because of decisions that I made.  I’m working twice as hard, twice as long trying to make up for a couple of poor decisions.  That stinks.

Anyway, it just made me think (mid work rush) - if we got into the habit of making better decisions and making them more often, we’d be The Stuff rather than watching the stuff hit the fan!  After mulling the thought over, I decided I’d write it out - thought it might help someone else when they’re staring down the barrel of a decision.

I’m going to try and remember it this way:  Look smack in the middle of the word DECISIONS - There lies the unfortunate answer.  More times than not we can each say the same thing when things go wrong - ”The only one to blame Is I.” - and it’s all inside of our decisions.” 

I don’t like it any more than you do.

If you know me or have read me for very long, you’re well aware of a few things:

1.  Coffee and Chai Tea don’t just dominate my thoughts, they dominate me.  And I like it.

2.  I’m the worst driver in the world. So bad, I’ve been known to make myself nervous.

3.  My world revolves around my family, cats and dog.

4.  I love to cook.  I love to eat.

5. Keira Knightley is my favorite actress.

6.  Beyonce is one of my very favorite entertainers - ever.  She’s the stuff in my galaxy.

There are, of course, other things - from Dean Koontz to PePe Le Pew (Yes, the cartoon) - but these six generally get the ball rolling.

It’s actually my girls Keira Knightley and Beyonce Knowles that are stirring my thoughts today.  These two ridiculously beautiful ladies keep getting criticized for their weight, each on different ends of the spectrum. 

Keira and a lot of other thin actresses and models are the fixation of a lot of jokes, posts, outrages, etc.  At any given time you can find people calling them anything from skeletons to gross.  Don’t get me wrong, I have three daughters and I’m as concerned as anyone about the message put out to young girls.  People will justify their criticism and ridicule of the thin girls by saying they’re outraged about the message they’re putting out there for teen girls.  But then these same people will criticize and ridicule females they think are overweight.

They say they’re concerned about the message being written out to young girls, and lo and behold, the ink’s on their hands.

I nearly fell out of my chair the other day when I read a blogger referring to Keira, Kate Hudson, and Mischa Barton as “disgustingly skinny” - only to read on another day where he/she thought Beyonce should try a new career as a linebacker.  Are you freakin’ kidding me?!

So, Keira’s so thin she’s disgusting and Beyonce’s so….what, big??….that she’s a linebacker.  I think the message our society’s sending is that it’s a wee bit szhicophrenic (a state characterized by the coexistence of contradictory or incompatible elements).

Beauty comes in all shapes, all sizes, all weights.  The two ladies you see pictured here are beautiful beyond reason.  As are Mischa Barton, Tyra Banks, Gwen Stefani, Queen Latifah, J Lo, Jessica Simpson, Carmen Electra, Kate Hudson, Angelina Jolie…  Each of them is very beautiful and each wears a different size.  They certainly aren’t gross or disgusting!  I wonder if we even realize what we’re saying half the time??? 

The downside of being hyper-critical and judgemental is that we put more ugliness into our world.  The upside to being more accepting - and to widening the little window that we think beauty should fit through - is that we put more beauty into our world.

The message then changes to:  We’re all beautiful!  I don’t know about you, but I like that message a lot better.  Maybe then we could focus more on what really matters - what’s inside.  That’s where real beauty lies.

Joi

I’ve got to let you in on a dirty little secret I have.  I get a bigger kick out of About Pages than I should.  Sure, it’d be fine and good if I just happened to like peeking underneath other people’s lids - but that’s only half the story.  Here comes the part I’m not proud of:  I get an evil, unnatural amusement from watching people get the bloats.  You know, when they’ve allowed themselves to get so totally full of themselves that they must surely bloat.  Why are we bloggers so suspect to these gloat bloats?  I dunno.

Anyway, tonight I came across a blog titled “Barefeet Allowed” (If that’s not an invitation to a Kentuckian, nothing is.)  True to form, I headed for the About page. Not an ounce of bloat gloat, heck, this gal would probably need help spelling ego.  As I was reading along, several things occurred to me. 

1. For one thing, the absence of gloat bloats is even better - even though I’ll have to look for the evil, unnatural amusement elsewhere. (Fortunately The Bachelor picked back up last night.)  It’s refreshing to know that people actually exist who aren’t scared to show that they have a few less than perfect traits.  Come on, no one’s perfect….Okay, aside from Beyonce, no one’s perfect.
2. When I was reading this particular blogger’s about page, I found myself thinking things like, “Oh, I’ll bet you’re plenty good at sports……..No way, you don’t seem like you’d be sarcastic or stubborn…”   When smug bugs take themselves too seriously, we tend to think a little bit less of them, somehow.  Our impression with them never catches up to their own.  But if someone isn’t afraid to show that they aren’t a robot - that they’re actually a flesh and blood human, we tend to come away with a higher impression of them.

Humility’s a grand thing, you know.

Joi