I was talking on the phone with a friend of mine today (Hi Jesse!) when she got a text message. It read "Why is Jason in jail?". The message was from someone who had texted the wrong number. It's one thing to call the wrong number, but another thing to text the wrong number. You open yourself up too much that way. Receiving a text message like this creates so many possibilities. How long could you keep this person going before they realize they've texted the wrong person?
"Why is Jason in jail?"
- He killed a hooker
- He's a pedophile
- Bestiality, with a pig (or a Cornish hen, or a mouse, or a cow....etc)
- He kidnapped my grandma from the old folk's home
- For driving his John Deere tractor in the far left lane
- Stealing candy from a baby
- Sodomy
- His meth lab blew up
And the list goes on and on.... My friend chose to respond with the text "I don't know, why is Jason in jail?". Boooooorrrrring. A chance to mess with someone like that only comes every once and a while. You have to seize it! This made me wonder though, who makes their first cell phone interaction with someone be a text message asking why someone is in jail?
This led to a discussion about another friend who was cussed out via text by someone who had the wrong number. It was all over someone cheating on somebody. If you feel the need to confront someone like that at least have the balls to call them, not text them. That's like cussing someone out via email....lame. This tirade was answered with a text of "We will pray for you...". That stopped the texts. I'm sure she could also have said "The trailer park called, they want their trash back" but that might have escalated things a bit.
I guess there's a lesson to be learned in all this; call to check the number before you text someone. You never know who you're texting.
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Sunday, February 28, 2010
Friday, February 26, 2010
Please Don't Traumatize your Family
I recently came across a rather disturbing advertisement in a local paper
Never-mind the fact that the it's an advertisement for a pet crematory, which is creepy enough as it is, but the fact that this guy has to involve his family in this line of work is just a little scary. He has even named his business Butler and Son Pet Crematory, which has me wondering if that young boy in the picture wakes up every morning to the smell of burning cat hair. And I thought washing the dishes as a kid was a dirty job. Way to traumatize your family Pops. I at least commend his efforts in ridding us of the horrors of another Pet Cemetery uprising or the prospect that Fido will revisit us as a Zombie-dog or, God forbid, end up stuffed and sitting beside Grandma's rocking chair in the Living Room. In future, I would recommend leaving the kids out of this.
Never-mind the fact that the it's an advertisement for a pet crematory, which is creepy enough as it is, but the fact that this guy has to involve his family in this line of work is just a little scary. He has even named his business Butler and Son Pet Crematory, which has me wondering if that young boy in the picture wakes up every morning to the smell of burning cat hair. And I thought washing the dishes as a kid was a dirty job. Way to traumatize your family Pops. I at least commend his efforts in ridding us of the horrors of another Pet Cemetery uprising or the prospect that Fido will revisit us as a Zombie-dog or, God forbid, end up stuffed and sitting beside Grandma's rocking chair in the Living Room. In future, I would recommend leaving the kids out of this.
Thursday, February 25, 2010
Exaggerate This!
I know that everyone exaggerates, it's just that some of us do it more than others. All of us know at least one person that can't seem to get their own stories straight, much less any other scrap of a fact that comes their way. There must be a chemical imbalance in some people that prevents them from just telling a mundane account. I've met several such people in my life, but there are likely several others that I've met that I never knew were liars (or exaggerators or embellishers).
I came across an article today about a man caught posing as a Military veteran of higher rank and distinction than he had any claim to (that article is at http://militarytimes.com/news/2010/02/army_stolenvalor_022210w/). Did this man, and the countless others who have done the same thing in the past, really expect to get away with this? He actually got out of the Military as a PFC after serving three years, but claimed to have been awarded all sorts of awards and claimed varying different ranks like Major and General. If you're going to lie, don't make it as obvious. Maybe he just got swept up in all the attention, or maybe he really is just a crazy. You hear about this crap all the time though.
Then you have the Military guys who exaggerate or embellish what they did/do in the Military. One such guy, let's call him Jim, felt the need to tell everyone he met about the super-secret-extra-cool stuff he did in the Military. Problem was, Jim would often forget that the person(s) he was telling the story to had been there when the event took place. That inevitably leads to the "Dude, that's not how that happened" speech, and Jim has to backtrack and add more BS to justify his version of the story. My husband works part-time at a local store while finishing up college, and he recently had a run-in with another Veteran who started spouting all sorts of nonsense. This guy claims to have went from the rank of E1 to E6 in two years. Anyone that's ever been in the Army can tell you that that is impossible. He also professes to have done all sorts of 'cool' tactical operations and such, but he pretty much lost all credibility already so that probably isn't true either. No one wants to be branded the liar, liar pants on fire type of guy (or gal).
I fly this, and I'm a Navy SEAL
This phenomenon is more wide spread than most of us like to admit, and in fact we are actually encouraged to do it. Any seminar you go to or book you read on applying for a new job will tell you that you have to "sell" yourself (i.e. exaggerate your abilities a little to make yourself sound better). You're supposed to make every little thing you did sound like a highly evolved and sought after skill. At this point you pretty much have to do it or you won't stand a chance against the guy who claims he saved his last corporation millions of dollars as the supervisor of quality control (i.e. making sure the merchandise was all still there and working). I wonder what this says about our society; that in order to succeed we need to lie a little. This is a far cry from the traditional values of integrity that we like to think our ancestors had. In reality, who knows if they really lived up to the morals and values they espoused. Maybe they lied on their resumes a little too.
I came across an article today about a man caught posing as a Military veteran of higher rank and distinction than he had any claim to (that article is at http://militarytimes.com/news/2010/02/army_stolenvalor_022210w/). Did this man, and the countless others who have done the same thing in the past, really expect to get away with this? He actually got out of the Military as a PFC after serving three years, but claimed to have been awarded all sorts of awards and claimed varying different ranks like Major and General. If you're going to lie, don't make it as obvious. Maybe he just got swept up in all the attention, or maybe he really is just a crazy. You hear about this crap all the time though.
Then you have the Military guys who exaggerate or embellish what they did/do in the Military. One such guy, let's call him Jim, felt the need to tell everyone he met about the super-secret-extra-cool stuff he did in the Military. Problem was, Jim would often forget that the person(s) he was telling the story to had been there when the event took place. That inevitably leads to the "Dude, that's not how that happened" speech, and Jim has to backtrack and add more BS to justify his version of the story. My husband works part-time at a local store while finishing up college, and he recently had a run-in with another Veteran who started spouting all sorts of nonsense. This guy claims to have went from the rank of E1 to E6 in two years. Anyone that's ever been in the Army can tell you that that is impossible. He also professes to have done all sorts of 'cool' tactical operations and such, but he pretty much lost all credibility already so that probably isn't true either. No one wants to be branded the liar, liar pants on fire type of guy (or gal).
This phenomenon is more wide spread than most of us like to admit, and in fact we are actually encouraged to do it. Any seminar you go to or book you read on applying for a new job will tell you that you have to "sell" yourself (i.e. exaggerate your abilities a little to make yourself sound better). You're supposed to make every little thing you did sound like a highly evolved and sought after skill. At this point you pretty much have to do it or you won't stand a chance against the guy who claims he saved his last corporation millions of dollars as the supervisor of quality control (i.e. making sure the merchandise was all still there and working). I wonder what this says about our society; that in order to succeed we need to lie a little. This is a far cry from the traditional values of integrity that we like to think our ancestors had. In reality, who knows if they really lived up to the morals and values they espoused. Maybe they lied on their resumes a little too.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Basic Training ain't easy
I'm putting together a series of articles on the Military for my Hubpages (check here: http://hubpages.com/profile/Melissa+McClain for these articles as I get them published). In so doing it's given me the opportunity to reflect a lot on my days in the Military. I still think that some of my worst moments were basic training. Some people actually liked basic training though...go figure. AIT (Advanced Individual Training) was a lot more fun in my opinion. Then again, I'm not a big Hooah Army!, go-shoot-or-yell-at-something-or-someone type of person. If you like guns, getting yelled at, aggressive behavior, getting very little sleep, anal-retentive behavior, and rolling around in the mud (or snow or mosquito invested swamp...depends on the place and season you are going in) then you'll absolutely love it. If you don't love those things....then you'll be like the rest of us that just got through it so we could move on to the "real Army". (Just so you know, there's a lot of talk about this "real Army" thing...it's like the Yeti in that it's existence can't be verified).
Basic Training is meant to break you down so that you can be rebuilt in the Army's image. There are certainly a lot of people that need to be broken down. You wonder how some of these people ever thought they'd be good Army material, but I suppose everyone deserves a chance. For those of us who do what we're told already, Basic Training can seem like an exercise in futility. You receive contradictory instructions and information just to see how you'll handle it, and be given nonsense instructions to see how well you'll do whatever someone tells you to do. This part of the process isn't trying to make a leader out of you, it's trying to make a good follower out of you. The leader training comes later.
I don't remember too many particulars about Basic Training, but I do remember the suck factor. I must have said "Are they serious?" either to myself or out-loud multiple times a day. You get to the point where you don't care about sleep or food or your physical appearance or anything like that. You just care about getting through it and not making a royal a$$ of yourself. You sure do learn a lot about yourself though. I had no idea that I was such a slow moving individual...and I don't mean in running. It takes me a long time to get ready to do anything and to actually get things done....I cannot be rushed. The Army is not made for people like that so I had to do a lot of prioritizing to make sure I got the important stuff done. Now that I'm out, I take it to the extreme and take enormous amounts of time to do even the most mundane task....because I can (thanks Army).
If you ask current or previous members of the Military about Basic Training, you'll likely get a wide variety of responses. Some loved it, some hated it, and some are just apathetic. It all depends on the person really, and you can't predict how you'll react to it either. Some people went in thinking they would love it, but they ended up hating it and vice versa. There is one good thing about Basic Training that I think everyone can agree on; it makes any subsequent training seem easier by comparison (unless you are a super-soldier and go for Ranger school or Special Forces or something). Looking back on that experience, I'm sure glad I made it through, but I'd never want to do that again.
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Trying too hard
Do you ever have that feeling that you want something so bad that it just HAS to happen? Where you think that no one wants this as bad as you? You aren't the only one. Watching American Idol got me to thinking about it, and now I see this phenomenon everywhere. People think that because they have a desire to do something, that they will succeed at it.
A while back I read a book called Alien Hand Syndrome: And Other Too-Weird-Not-to-be-True Stories by Alan Bellows and the editors of Damn Interesting. In this book they discuss, among other things, the Above-average effect which "describes the phenomenon of individuals' rating themselves as above average at nearly any skill in which they have an interest". It goes on to say that those who aren't really good at a task but have an interest in it think that they are really good at it, and conversely those that do really well at a task often underestimate their abilities. This could also be linked to a later chapter in the book where they describe the concept of Irrational Optimism:
"...average people hold cognitive biases in three key areas: first, viewing themselves in unrealistically positive terms; second, believing they have more control over their environment than they actually do; and third, holding views about the future that are more positive than the evidence can justify."
Not only is this stuff very interesting (as are the less esoteric chapters of the book like "Cyborg Spy Kitties" and "The Dwarf Who Became a Giant"), but it's also very thought provoking. After reading this I began to second guess everything I thought I was good at. Was I really good at my job or did I actually suck? I think I'm good with animals but am I really like my Aunt Diane that spoils them rotten and whose house smells like a kennel? Since I think I'm a decent writer do I really write like I'm in third grade special Ed? And that leads me to further think that maybe I'm a lot better at things I've abandoned because I thought I sucked at it. I think I'm a horrible people person, so does that mean I do well around people? I think I'm not very creative, so does that mean I'm actually coming up with some kick ass original ideas? But really you can't go through life thinking like this. The book even points out that a certain amount of Irrational Optimism is necessary to keep you from becoming a depressed realist. Yeah, you may have an irrational sense of self-importance but at least you're happy and have something to live for. And you can't go around second guessing yourself either or you'd never really settle on anything that you enjoy and/or are good at.
Then again, there are the people who take this Irrational Optimism to a whole new level....the aforementioned American Idol hopefuls. Just because you think you can sing, doesn't mean you can. Didn't someone, somewhere along the way tell these people they are absolutely horrible?? I'm not talking about the finalists that are on TV now. Sure, some of them are not particularly great, but they at least have a fairly decent singing voice compared to the average person. I'm talking about those that show up to the auditions and screech their way through a song that was either A) meant for someone with a completely different type of voice B) was mostly created by technology and sound effects anyway C) is just a horrible song to begin with or D) they couldn't successfully sing any song ever written, period. Then, after they're told that they suck by the judges, they leave the room crying and/or indignant that someone had the audacity to tell them they can't sing. No one wants to be their occupation's version of that person.
It isn't just restricted to singers either. You've got people who enter the military and have no talent whatsoever for any skill the military actually values. I have to say that I'll include myself in this as I am not competitive or aggressive and that's kind of important in the military. You have people that go into customer service with no people skills, those that try their hand at business even though they can't even keep their own affairs and finances in order, and those that seek out a college degree who can't write a cogent sentence let alone a paragraph. And then there are the writers. I decided to take up online writing because I enjoy writing, and I figured it couldn't hurt to try and get my material out there. However, there are others that make the decision that they're going to make money at it and are disappointed when they don't see a six figure income. They just can't accept the fact that it takes time to make any sort of money with writing, or that they just aren't very good at it.
So far I've been discussing people who aren't good at something thinking they are God's gift to music or writing or what have you. On the opposite end of the spectrum you have geniuses working at Waffle House. Why? Maybe they are just lazy and take the easiest job they can find. Maybe they don't want a job with a lot of responsibility and would rather enjoy their free time. Maybe they just don't realize what they're really good at. I know high school students are emotional and difficult to deal with, but maybe our guidance counselors should put more effort into helping us find our niche in society before we end up a 30 year old working in a dead end job they aren't good at or happy with. Sure you can try and rely on the feedback of loved ones but what 19 year old is going to listen to his mom tell him what job he should get? Chances are, he'll go the opposite route. In the end though, sometimes you've got to throw talent to the wind and just do what makes you happy. You'll either eventually get really good at it, or make people think you are because you've been at it so long. Or you'll get fired and have to move on.
Tuesday, February 23, 2010
Dreams are weird
I love to dream, even if it's a nightmare. Does that sound weird? Well, dreams are weird. I took a nap this morning, as is my custom (since I started waking up early in the morning to let the puppy out, feed him, and let him run around until he gets tired again), and I dreamed. Whether It's my regular nightly sleep or a nap, I almost always dream. Sometimes I can remember the dreams in vivid detail, including any emotions associated with the dream. Other times I just have a vague idea of the dream without really remembering most of it.
This particular nap-dream was a nightmare (or napmare, or whatever you call it). I don't remember the particulars, but the essence of it was that someone had been stealing money out of by bank account. They had made many small purchases online over the course of a few hours....probably due to identity theft or something. In my dream I try to call the bank to tell them these purchases were not authorized but they kept putting me on hold, and the worst part was, I could hear them in the background having a party or something rather than waiting on customers....asswipes. I got so angry (in the dream) and was running around trying to figure out what to do, when I realized that someone had also stolen my shoes. How did someone manage to steal my shoes without me knowing about it? I don't know. It's a dream. It doesn't have to make sense. I also complained to ex-coworkers of mine that someone had managed to steal $15,000 of my money. And No, I don't have that kind of money in the bank, but in my dream I did. It begs the question, why didn't I dream that I had a lot more money, as it's a dream and I could have as much as I want. I guess I was trying to keep it reasonable and yet substantial. Anyway, I woke up from this napmare feeling 1) angry with my bank for shitty customer service 2) worried that all of my money was gone and 3) thinking I should check my bank account to see if my money was still there or if I miraculously acquired $15,000.
Even though this doesn't sound like a pleasant dream, it makes for a more interesting day I think. You can only imagine how interesting and entertaining good dreams are to me. A really good dream can give me something to think about for a couple of days, and may even lead to a sequel the next night. Awesome in my opinion. It's like free tv. Except in your dreams you don't have to worry about faults in the storyline or filling out a character's back story...so it's kind of like an episode of Lost. That's why I find it odd when people tell me they don't really dream, or never remember their dreams. That's sad to me. It's like they couldn't afford their cable and it was shut off so they have to content themselves with reading in the evenings rather than watching American Idol.
I may find dreams interesting but I don't feel the need to over-analyze them in some Freud-like love your mother sort of way. Yes, dreams do reveal something about your state of mind, but sometimes dreaming about sex just means you're horny..not that you have mommy issues. Besides, each person is different so you have to interpret those dreams in a unique way to each person. I can't tell you what your dreams mean and you can't explain to me what mine mean. Well, outside of the usual, "your dreams are weird and therefore you are weird". Once I tried writing down what my dreams were about so I wouldn't forget them, but I abandoned that idea. Too time consuming and there's no way to put some of the crazy shit I dream about into words. Besides, it just makes it seem even more ridiculous when I write it down, and I feel as if I have to turn it into a coherent story. And let's face it, we all like a little nonsense in our lives. I'll take mine in the form of dreams (and Family Guy).
This particular nap-dream was a nightmare (or napmare, or whatever you call it). I don't remember the particulars, but the essence of it was that someone had been stealing money out of by bank account. They had made many small purchases online over the course of a few hours....probably due to identity theft or something. In my dream I try to call the bank to tell them these purchases were not authorized but they kept putting me on hold, and the worst part was, I could hear them in the background having a party or something rather than waiting on customers....asswipes. I got so angry (in the dream) and was running around trying to figure out what to do, when I realized that someone had also stolen my shoes. How did someone manage to steal my shoes without me knowing about it? I don't know. It's a dream. It doesn't have to make sense. I also complained to ex-coworkers of mine that someone had managed to steal $15,000 of my money. And No, I don't have that kind of money in the bank, but in my dream I did. It begs the question, why didn't I dream that I had a lot more money, as it's a dream and I could have as much as I want. I guess I was trying to keep it reasonable and yet substantial. Anyway, I woke up from this napmare feeling 1) angry with my bank for shitty customer service 2) worried that all of my money was gone and 3) thinking I should check my bank account to see if my money was still there or if I miraculously acquired $15,000.
Even though this doesn't sound like a pleasant dream, it makes for a more interesting day I think. You can only imagine how interesting and entertaining good dreams are to me. A really good dream can give me something to think about for a couple of days, and may even lead to a sequel the next night. Awesome in my opinion. It's like free tv. Except in your dreams you don't have to worry about faults in the storyline or filling out a character's back story...so it's kind of like an episode of Lost. That's why I find it odd when people tell me they don't really dream, or never remember their dreams. That's sad to me. It's like they couldn't afford their cable and it was shut off so they have to content themselves with reading in the evenings rather than watching American Idol.
I may find dreams interesting but I don't feel the need to over-analyze them in some Freud-like love your mother sort of way. Yes, dreams do reveal something about your state of mind, but sometimes dreaming about sex just means you're horny..not that you have mommy issues. Besides, each person is different so you have to interpret those dreams in a unique way to each person. I can't tell you what your dreams mean and you can't explain to me what mine mean. Well, outside of the usual, "your dreams are weird and therefore you are weird". Once I tried writing down what my dreams were about so I wouldn't forget them, but I abandoned that idea. Too time consuming and there's no way to put some of the crazy shit I dream about into words. Besides, it just makes it seem even more ridiculous when I write it down, and I feel as if I have to turn it into a coherent story. And let's face it, we all like a little nonsense in our lives. I'll take mine in the form of dreams (and Family Guy).
Monday, February 22, 2010
Might as well face it we're addicted.....
I'm an addict, I'll admit it. No, this isn't part of an AA process that I have to go through or anything. I'm not addicted to drugs or alcohol, which is what most people think of when they hear the word 'addiction'. I came to the realization that I was an addict a long time ago, namely when I had to go a day without caffeine and thought my brain was going to dissolve in my skull from the horrendous headache I got. That wasn't the only time either. Being in the military there are naturally times when you can't always eat and drink what you want every day. So, I detoxed several times, but always greedily went for a cup of coffee at the first available opportunity. Why? The answer is simple, because it brings me happiness to do so and it doesn't turn me into a bad person or effect the health of those around me. Oh yeah, and because I'm stubborn and I want to....and I like getting what I want. Call me Varuca Salt if you will, but having an occupation where you are told what to do on a regular basis leads to me doing my own thing when I'm allowed.
I'm not the only one that has this stubborn streak either. I mean, why do you think there are so many addicts out there? Because people want to do what feels good. I began to wonder about some of the most widespread addictions out there, but trying to search for that often led to lists of the most addictive drugs. I know Americans have a lot more addictions than that. You've got addiction to caffeine (yeah I know that's a drug too), food (to include chocolate which I can totally understand), tobacco, shopping, gambling, video games, work (yep, believe it or not there are actually people addicted to working hard....idiots), and then there are hoarders (if you watch TLC enough you'll find out who those people are). So, I decided to do a little self-reflection and devise a list of my addictions. Most lists like this are done in reverse order so as to build up the anticipation, but let's be honest, no one gives a crap about this so let's start with number 1.
Melissa's Top 5 Addictions
1. Caffeine - If you even read the first paragraph you should've figured this one out, I mean seriously. I think my addiction isn't too bad as far as caffeine addicts go. Yes, I do have a biological dependence on the 'drug' if you insist on calling it that, but I don't take it too far. Besides, I hardly ever exceed two cups of coffee and two shots of espresso in a day (not all at one time of course). Sure, I'd forgo food if I had to choose between that and caffeine, but who wouldn't right?
2. Facebook - I curse the day I ever discovered this site. A pox upon the person that invited me! I can't go a day without going to this site at least once....ok, a few times.....ok, constantly. And don't even get me started on the FB games...so rewarding to play and yet so futile at the same time. I know I'm not the only one with this addiction though, because otherwise I wouldn't have that many people to talk to on there. I guess this addiction has to do with making up for the lack of social interaction with our family and friends that live elsewhere. So why do I post on my husband's wall even though we live in the same house? And I like to keep informed of what's going on in everybody's lives because I'm not only stubborn but nosy as well.
3. TV - I know, it isn't fashionable to be addicted to tv anymore what with the internet and everything, but I'm an old-fashioned type of gal. It isn't even that I'm really watching the television. Most of the time it serves as background noise so I feel like I always have people visiting me, cause that's how important I am. And unlike real visitors, when I'm done with the tv I can just turn it off...no apologies necessary. I wouldn't even bother to pay for cable if it weren't for the fact that I like to be on the computer while having the tv on, which leads to my next addiction.....
4. Internet - I guess I should be cursing Al Gore on this one for inventing the beast that is the internet, but he isn't really getting the props he deserves for this so I'll let him be. Yes I realize that FB is on the internet and I listed it separately, but ya'll will just have to get over it. Just like you'll have to get over the fact that I used ya'll in this blog even though I'm the only person that'll read it. But, without the internet I'd never be able to write this blog in the first place. I spend an enormous amount of time on the internet now that I'm not actively working. It's a great place to lose five hours of your life in what seems like 20 minutes of your time. No more going to the library for me! If I want to research something all I have to do is Google it. If I want to buy something but I'm too lazy to go to the store all I have to do is Amazon it. If I want to watch the newest tv episodes that I missed while the pesky background noise tv people were visiting, all I have to do is Hulu it. And, if I want to see people whose lives are sadder than mine, all I have to do is YouTube it....or look on FML.
5. Texting - Maybe it's the appeal of my streamlined, curvaceous, sexy-as-hell looking Iphone that causes me to do it, or maybe it's because I have an inflated sense of self-importance, but I'm constantly checking my phone for new texts. It isn't that I always send out texts. Often I'm just checking to make sure I didn't miss that all important text message. In reality, information that's important enough for me to hear right away probably isn't going to come in the form of a text message. I hate talking to people though, so let's hope that the Georgia Lottery realizes this and will simply text me to inform me of my win. Also, texting is so much more non-confrontational than talking on the phone. It isn't enough that we moved from talking to people in person (or 'calling' on someone as they used to say back in the day...if you're over 50, you know what I mean), to telephone calls where we didn't have to see the other person's face, but we have now moved on to texting where we don't even have to hear their voice. Thank God!
All this may seem rather sad to some of you, but I think there's a lot to be said for virtual living. If only we could convince the masses to stay in their homes and text, blog, FB, and watch tv I'm sure the crime rate would plummet. Of course the suicide rate might increase, but those people probably weren't drinking enough coffee. Have you ever seen a depressed energetic person? I think not. And now there is a growing number of people that work from home via the internet and even go to college online. I'm waiting for my internet dream job to come along where I get paid to surf the internet, research topics on Wikipedia, and blog all day. Unfortunately I think that perhaps 60% of the population would love to do that for a living, so competition would be fierce. Guess I gotta keep drinking more coffee if I want to land that killer job.
I'm not the only one that has this stubborn streak either. I mean, why do you think there are so many addicts out there? Because people want to do what feels good. I began to wonder about some of the most widespread addictions out there, but trying to search for that often led to lists of the most addictive drugs. I know Americans have a lot more addictions than that. You've got addiction to caffeine (yeah I know that's a drug too), food (to include chocolate which I can totally understand), tobacco, shopping, gambling, video games, work (yep, believe it or not there are actually people addicted to working hard....idiots), and then there are hoarders (if you watch TLC enough you'll find out who those people are). So, I decided to do a little self-reflection and devise a list of my addictions. Most lists like this are done in reverse order so as to build up the anticipation, but let's be honest, no one gives a crap about this so let's start with number 1.
Melissa's Top 5 Addictions
1. Caffeine - If you even read the first paragraph you should've figured this one out, I mean seriously. I think my addiction isn't too bad as far as caffeine addicts go. Yes, I do have a biological dependence on the 'drug' if you insist on calling it that, but I don't take it too far. Besides, I hardly ever exceed two cups of coffee and two shots of espresso in a day (not all at one time of course). Sure, I'd forgo food if I had to choose between that and caffeine, but who wouldn't right?
2. Facebook - I curse the day I ever discovered this site. A pox upon the person that invited me! I can't go a day without going to this site at least once....ok, a few times.....ok, constantly. And don't even get me started on the FB games...so rewarding to play and yet so futile at the same time. I know I'm not the only one with this addiction though, because otherwise I wouldn't have that many people to talk to on there. I guess this addiction has to do with making up for the lack of social interaction with our family and friends that live elsewhere. So why do I post on my husband's wall even though we live in the same house? And I like to keep informed of what's going on in everybody's lives because I'm not only stubborn but nosy as well.
3. TV - I know, it isn't fashionable to be addicted to tv anymore what with the internet and everything, but I'm an old-fashioned type of gal. It isn't even that I'm really watching the television. Most of the time it serves as background noise so I feel like I always have people visiting me, cause that's how important I am. And unlike real visitors, when I'm done with the tv I can just turn it off...no apologies necessary. I wouldn't even bother to pay for cable if it weren't for the fact that I like to be on the computer while having the tv on, which leads to my next addiction.....
4. Internet - I guess I should be cursing Al Gore on this one for inventing the beast that is the internet, but he isn't really getting the props he deserves for this so I'll let him be. Yes I realize that FB is on the internet and I listed it separately, but ya'll will just have to get over it. Just like you'll have to get over the fact that I used ya'll in this blog even though I'm the only person that'll read it. But, without the internet I'd never be able to write this blog in the first place. I spend an enormous amount of time on the internet now that I'm not actively working. It's a great place to lose five hours of your life in what seems like 20 minutes of your time. No more going to the library for me! If I want to research something all I have to do is Google it. If I want to buy something but I'm too lazy to go to the store all I have to do is Amazon it. If I want to watch the newest tv episodes that I missed while the pesky background noise tv people were visiting, all I have to do is Hulu it. And, if I want to see people whose lives are sadder than mine, all I have to do is YouTube it....or look on FML.
5. Texting - Maybe it's the appeal of my streamlined, curvaceous, sexy-as-hell looking Iphone that causes me to do it, or maybe it's because I have an inflated sense of self-importance, but I'm constantly checking my phone for new texts. It isn't that I always send out texts. Often I'm just checking to make sure I didn't miss that all important text message. In reality, information that's important enough for me to hear right away probably isn't going to come in the form of a text message. I hate talking to people though, so let's hope that the Georgia Lottery realizes this and will simply text me to inform me of my win. Also, texting is so much more non-confrontational than talking on the phone. It isn't enough that we moved from talking to people in person (or 'calling' on someone as they used to say back in the day...if you're over 50, you know what I mean), to telephone calls where we didn't have to see the other person's face, but we have now moved on to texting where we don't even have to hear their voice. Thank God!
All this may seem rather sad to some of you, but I think there's a lot to be said for virtual living. If only we could convince the masses to stay in their homes and text, blog, FB, and watch tv I'm sure the crime rate would plummet. Of course the suicide rate might increase, but those people probably weren't drinking enough coffee. Have you ever seen a depressed energetic person? I think not. And now there is a growing number of people that work from home via the internet and even go to college online. I'm waiting for my internet dream job to come along where I get paid to surf the internet, research topics on Wikipedia, and blog all day. Unfortunately I think that perhaps 60% of the population would love to do that for a living, so competition would be fierce. Guess I gotta keep drinking more coffee if I want to land that killer job.
Sunday, February 21, 2010
Fat cat and tiny dog
I don't know how I got talked into this. I have always been a cat person, ever since I was a little girl. I remember the first cat that was "mine"; an orange and white tabby kitten that I got from a friend at school. I had somehow managed to convince my parents to let me get the kitten. This probably had to do with 1) the kitten was free 2) my aunt who lived next door agreed to keep it at her house and 3) I was going to beg for a kitten until I got one anyway. I remember my father driving me back from my friend's house with the clean little furry kitten sitting in my lap. The only other animals my family had were smelly outdoor dogs that tried to jump on you if you came near them. At this age I had already decided, cats were obviously the superior species. They clean themselves, require very little attention, not much effort has to go in training them to use a litter box, and they're soft and purr when you pet them.
So, what was I thinking when I agreed to let my husband buy a puppy? Probably the only thing I was thinking was that the puppy looked cute and that it would be my husband's animal so it would mostly be his responsibility. Unfortunately for me, things didn't work out quite like that. Our new puppy is cute, I'll give him that, and he is a purebred West Highland White Terrier so I thought that would somehow validate my assertion that I know animals. From the first day we brought the puppy, who we named Indy, home I noticed some things that I wasn't too happy about. First and foremost the dog smelled again within 24 hours after having his first bath...not good. I had no intention of having my house smell like a kennel, or a farm. Secondly, although I was prepared to have to house train the puppy, I hadn't thought about the number of times per day that a young puppy urinates and defecates. If an hour goes by where he hasn't relieved himself, then he must have been asleep that whole time. Young puppies also chew things....anything; to include shoes, furniture, and people. So, I knew we had our work cut out for us. I say "us" because at that point I still envisioned a joint venture between my husband and I. That vision has since crash landed amongst early morning rises to take the puppy out of his crate to relieve himself and numerous mishaps ending in me cleaning up dog waste product.
We have had Indy for a week and a half now and I've learned a thing or two about caring for a puppy. The first thing I learned is that if you are the one who cares for the puppy when he first pees in his crate and wallows in it, then you will be the person that continues to care for him. I also learned that Indy was easier to house train than I had thought. So far I have trained him to use the training pad in an area set aside for him in the apartment whenever he needs to go to the bathroom. I went this route as opposed to taking him outside right away because my husband, who claims to be a pseudo expert on training puppies, claimed the puppy was too young to take out and that we should wait until he is a little older and leash trained. I'm beginning to doubt that logic, simply because I must now retrain the puppy to go in a different spot...outside. But, Indy has taken well to crate training and there are very few 'accidents' on my carpet, which I'm very thankful for. Perhaps it's my caring nature or my feminine instincts that cause me to spend a great deal of time caring for my husband's puppy, or perhaps it's my logical side that realizes that if I don't get up to do it, then no one will. As a result, Indy prefers my company over that of my husband. The most important thing I've learned is that he who cares for the puppy, claims the puppy. So, sorry hubby, the dog is mine.
Now the main difficulties I face as the caretaker of a new puppy mostly involve keeping him and the cat separated. My cat is a six year old Domestic Shorthair orange and white Tabby named Jay that I adopted from a shelter four years ago. Jay has been a low maintenance sort of animal, with my biggest headache being the large amount of hair he sheds and having to clean out his litter-box regularly. Jay's had interactions with other cats and dogs in the past and seems to adjust pretty well, so I wasn't too concerned. And, if Indy and Jay did get in a fight, I'd be more worried for the puppy. Indy is only 6 pounds, and Jay weighs in at 15 pounds (we may soon officially rename him Fat Jay). After an initial few days of Jay avoiding Indy, curiosity overcame my cat and he made first contact with the strange puppy that had invaded his domain. Now they get in play-fights continuously, with the cat usually getting fed up after a while and running away or jumping onto the highest thing in sight. This sounds cute, but really it isn't. Their encounters are loud and often result in something getting knocked over. But, I suppose I can't complain, it could be a lot worse. But having Indy has definitely changed my viewpoint of dogs. They still are a lot of hard work, but when trained properly they aren't half bad. Too bad I can't crate train my cat.
So, what was I thinking when I agreed to let my husband buy a puppy? Probably the only thing I was thinking was that the puppy looked cute and that it would be my husband's animal so it would mostly be his responsibility. Unfortunately for me, things didn't work out quite like that. Our new puppy is cute, I'll give him that, and he is a purebred West Highland White Terrier so I thought that would somehow validate my assertion that I know animals. From the first day we brought the puppy, who we named Indy, home I noticed some things that I wasn't too happy about. First and foremost the dog smelled again within 24 hours after having his first bath...not good. I had no intention of having my house smell like a kennel, or a farm. Secondly, although I was prepared to have to house train the puppy, I hadn't thought about the number of times per day that a young puppy urinates and defecates. If an hour goes by where he hasn't relieved himself, then he must have been asleep that whole time. Young puppies also chew things....anything; to include shoes, furniture, and people. So, I knew we had our work cut out for us. I say "us" because at that point I still envisioned a joint venture between my husband and I. That vision has since crash landed amongst early morning rises to take the puppy out of his crate to relieve himself and numerous mishaps ending in me cleaning up dog waste product.
We have had Indy for a week and a half now and I've learned a thing or two about caring for a puppy. The first thing I learned is that if you are the one who cares for the puppy when he first pees in his crate and wallows in it, then you will be the person that continues to care for him. I also learned that Indy was easier to house train than I had thought. So far I have trained him to use the training pad in an area set aside for him in the apartment whenever he needs to go to the bathroom. I went this route as opposed to taking him outside right away because my husband, who claims to be a pseudo expert on training puppies, claimed the puppy was too young to take out and that we should wait until he is a little older and leash trained. I'm beginning to doubt that logic, simply because I must now retrain the puppy to go in a different spot...outside. But, Indy has taken well to crate training and there are very few 'accidents' on my carpet, which I'm very thankful for. Perhaps it's my caring nature or my feminine instincts that cause me to spend a great deal of time caring for my husband's puppy, or perhaps it's my logical side that realizes that if I don't get up to do it, then no one will. As a result, Indy prefers my company over that of my husband. The most important thing I've learned is that he who cares for the puppy, claims the puppy. So, sorry hubby, the dog is mine.
Now the main difficulties I face as the caretaker of a new puppy mostly involve keeping him and the cat separated. My cat is a six year old Domestic Shorthair orange and white Tabby named Jay that I adopted from a shelter four years ago. Jay has been a low maintenance sort of animal, with my biggest headache being the large amount of hair he sheds and having to clean out his litter-box regularly. Jay's had interactions with other cats and dogs in the past and seems to adjust pretty well, so I wasn't too concerned. And, if Indy and Jay did get in a fight, I'd be more worried for the puppy. Indy is only 6 pounds, and Jay weighs in at 15 pounds (we may soon officially rename him Fat Jay). After an initial few days of Jay avoiding Indy, curiosity overcame my cat and he made first contact with the strange puppy that had invaded his domain. Now they get in play-fights continuously, with the cat usually getting fed up after a while and running away or jumping onto the highest thing in sight. This sounds cute, but really it isn't. Their encounters are loud and often result in something getting knocked over. But, I suppose I can't complain, it could be a lot worse. But having Indy has definitely changed my viewpoint of dogs. They still are a lot of hard work, but when trained properly they aren't half bad. Too bad I can't crate train my cat.
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