On a Day Like This

The sun was in its full power, shining down on us lounging in the long weekend,
I was being so lazy and it was getting later in the afternoon,
better start with my garden or I will grow root on my PC,

I got up and opened the front door while holding back Waywee,
all the while Figarion just jumped through me and ran out of the house.

He ran around for a sec and came back, only to run back into the busy road,
all I heard was a screech of a brake,

then saw my stupid dog running staright back to me,

I was shouting at him for not coming back to me when called,
why didn't you listen to me, young man, you are so silly,

I went back into the house but someone followed me and I heard the knock,
"Sweetheart, your dog WAS hit by a car so you have to take him to the vet,"
there was a stranger telling me this,

but Figarion was fine. He really was acting normal.
I sat holding Fig thinking what to do.
I poked him everywhere but Fig didn't yelp, so obviously nothing was broken, just a scartch or two.

I gave it a while, but Fig was still fine,
yet I took him to the vet, just in case, despite the out of hour fee.

The emergency vet was short staffed (everyone is on bloody holiday now due to Easter and Royal wedding bank holidays), it was totally unmanaged and chaotic,

when we walked into the consultaion room the vet shrieked and froze in front of my face and told me to step back,
before urging us to go into the next room.

Later I heard him telling his assistant,
"There is a dead cat in the cosultation room A, can you take of it for me?"
and I then knew why there was a crying couple standing outside when I arrived.

My stupid Fig was fine. He was costing me a fortune, but all I did was to hug him and told him that I was glad he was still with us.
"What would I have done if you were gone, don't you dare do that again."

Hope he learnet his lessons and now knows that car is not something he can run through.

Romance is...

When you are nuts about someone who is not supposed to be your object of the affection, everything you do with that person becomes the ground for debates. I am not going to proceed anything with my crush and the idea is mutual with him so we are remaining friends, but we do go out occasionally for a bite, and it looks, and feels like a date.

The other day we went out, and the Spanish place put us in the corner in a full view of Thames. It was late afternoon and sun was out, and was beautiful. We sat there look into each other's eyes, and I am thinking,
"How come this feels so right, and I am not with this person?"
I mean, I am not here's-to-looking-at-you-kiddo kind of person, in any situation, not even with boyfriends. I do not have an ounce of romance in my blood, that's what that is.

What was the worse part of this was that the entire time we were there there was a massive search going for a missing swimmer right in front of us, and there were police boats and coast guards going up and down in our view. We were also sat 3 yards from the missing guy's friend frantically calling people up in tears (not that we could hear as the guy was outside of the patio) and this should all negates any romantic notion, but it didn't.

Here I am in the middle of 4 day long weekend, completely oblivious to the Royal wedding fever, just thinking stuff as any other day.

My garden. Now taken over by myosotis, and two dogs.

SNS

This was my uni time, years and years ago...

My friend started dating this guy who was a year above us and also was rich. To me he was just money, because that's all he thought about when it came to the objectives of his life. He wasn't particularly good looking nor charming, and was always looking for a girl who is suitable for him and his family. My friend fit in the picture to him as she was extremely attractive and loved money, and was also a bit thick.

Before my friend he was b**ging some girls in his year (sorry for the way I put it but that's the most appropriate word,) but they were never his girlfriends, that sort of thing.

After my friend became his girlfriend he started telling her about his flings and one day my thick friend pointed at the girl afar and told me that that was his fling.

"Everyone is laughing at her and calling her a village bicycle, everyone had a ride."

She said, very demeaningly.

"I asked him how could you f**k someone like her and he told me he always did her from behind and made sure her face was buried in her pillow."

She continued triumphantly, laughing.

OK, so she was a bit of a slapper and was not so attractive, everyone may have had a bite, but did she deserve such a comment from whom just happened to become his girlfriend instead of his squeeze? And why are you laughing at her, this is some derogatory thing YOUR boyfriend did!!??

Well, I heard him talking equally disrespecting stuff about my friend and it just made me feel reassured that I saw him through from the beginning. This gave me a valuable lesson, never to be friend with someone who slags people off, because he / she will do that to you when you are out of sight.

But the point of this entry is that I recently found him on SNS (FB to be precise) and when I saw his profile the "bicycle" was in his list. O, you silly girl, you have not learned anything??

I can't stand these harmful, pretentious people who is out there to get anyone because they love nothing but themselves.

In totally unrelated subject,
I've got Fig on my foot.

Blush!

My crush did not kidnap me in his car, and I had a really nice afternoon at his work place, looking at iSAM and all. The more I spend the time with him the more I am addicted to this guy yet the more I am becoming sure this is not going to work. All is confusing as all other things in my life are.

Today I took my Figarion (and Waywee) to a long walk in fields, and I let him off the leash so he can play fetch. He, then, immediately began running towards this Alsatian 1/6 mile away with a bunch of people and did not come back to me as I commanded.

He finally came back after these nice people told him to bugger off, running back to me, only to return to Alsatian and the people right away. I was so embarrassed from afar, just repeating his name like idiot, and commands to come back to me.

He did this 3 times, running back and forth. I was all red but luckily the people didn't see me as they are now 1/4 mile away, walking away from us.

It is a tough call to decide if I should be happy that he listens to me eventually while he chooses the time to listens to me. Well, I guess he does have brain, which suites him fine. (Waywee can never return to me, I know this.)

More from my new collection.
They are so cute, but
I wish they made Wales ones.

Chaos and How to Put it Under Control

My recent entries are so scatty and boring, I feel bad for whoever had to stop and skim through them. My outburst when facing chaotic situations is quite strong, I've known to react badly to certain things, however the affect is apparent only for a short while.

It is my life passion to learn how not to panic when facing all those unpleasant things. I was told the best way to know that there are other who suffer worse, and I believed that's the answer for years, but, well, that isn't it, clearly?

Telling someone to stop whining about such trivial matters because there are real problems happening to so many people in the world is easy  but is never practical. Yes, my problems are REALLY petty and stupid, but my suffering is real. Not just mine, anyone's any problem is real. And we all have to get over them, somehow.

That's what I've been trying to write here. Not about my problem, but how my problem affected me and how I am getting over it.

Well, so my latest attempt for putting things back to control is, to be honest with myself and talk it out (with myself or someone else.) Just stop lying to myself. Kinda worked.

zzzzz...

The Greatest Thing

I was working this morning at the pub, and after the lunch hour rush it was the time for regulars to show up.

The carling drinker, whose is also a plumber, came in with a cider drinker who never pays us cash. Cider drinker buys them a round and they started chatting about work with such enthusiasm I was left behind to even know what were the words said between them.

After the cider drinker left I was pretty much on my own with the carling drinker, and felt that I must make a small talk.

rrugh...

Then I remembered that he brought his dog to the pub a few months ago when his family was with him. It was a little terrier which was cotton coloured ball of fluff, everyone went,
"AWWWWWWW"
while the guy himself is this hardcore lager drinker who can chuck down 10 pints without getting tiny bit tipsy, and always reeks of his fags. His clothes always covered in paints, and he drives company white vans, and his wife swears. He is the furthest thing from,
"AWWWWWWW".

"So, how is your puppy?"
I asked.
"Wot, my dog? He is, you know...."
He looked down almost growling,
(Shoop, was I not meant to ask a man about his cute dog, was that offensive?)
"Well, you know he is.... great!"
The last word, emphasized with this smile sprung out of nowhere. His eyes are drooling and he now just wants to boast how cute and sweet his pup is. Awwww, sweet.

Man's best friend, indeed. Love them, we cannot live without them.

yaaaaaaawn

My Boss's Obsession

My boss at my pub job, recently acquired a new hobby of tropical fish. He was given a tank for his 50th birthday (bought by all of us, how nice of us,) and started building it right after.

He had advices given from experts, and spent all his spare time and considerable amount of dough on buying fish and all the accessories and such.


This is a snapshot of his tank about 2 months in. You can tell how much staff/fish/effort he's put in in a very short period;

Just for the reference here is my tank, 18 months in;

Mine is subtle, and, well, economical. The sand is cheap pond gravel, and all the plants are from IKEA. Submerged objects are all second hand.

Anyway, so he put more fish each week, and after about 6 weeks I started to tell him that he has too many in there. The rule of fish keeping is, "take your time". I took 6 months before I decided to increase the number of fish to double, and took me further 6 months to do so.

He said to me that he checks water daily and all is well. He changes water every 3 days, and he even use store bought pure water to do so. (OMG, I didn't even know there was such a thing!) Ohh, ok then, I guess I only do water change once a month, so I shan't say no more.

But then he started having problems, though he didn't really lost his fish he always had some problem to report every time I went to work. He reckons the gourami is dying, and then he thinks that Guppy babies are polluting water, then he tells me that plec he bought is not eating enough.

His world now is full of fish problems, and he tells me all with such a joy, not because he enjoys fish's suffering but because he loves running around for his beloved fish, and has to tell me of this.

But, the thing is, he just has such a weird knowledge base on fish keeping, which never fails to stun me. I mean, he once said,
"Fish are gasping for air today, you think I have too much water in my tank?"

And he always buys fish (well his son-in-law gets them for him) and just drops it straight to tank, immediately. Not heard of acclimation?? And he never checks water temperature when changing water. He gets a tank of pure water from store and dumps it in his tank.

And how come he hasn't killed no more than 2 fish so far?

I am just not getting my head around this at all.

We are snowed in today.
Figarion loved running around on
this bloody thing!!

Melvin Udall Says...

My colleague is going a bit loopy lately. I have been saying to my bosses that she is losing it, and nobody took me very seriously. Well, nobody took her seriously, I guess.

When someone with hypochondriac tendencies gets stuck somewhere he/she will come up with something like depression. I am not sure if she actually IS depressed or not, but her behaviour is becoming erratic, and she has been nothing but a selfish, unresponsive, sobbing (!) mess in the past few weeks.

She then self-diagnosed herself to be "depressed" (and menopausal) and started acting like a depressed (and menopausal) person, rather than just a regular nuts. (I think she is nuts, rather than depressed.)

Having gone through a nervous break-down myself (I am a child of Ally McBeal era, and I, too, convinced to take steps to depression when was having difficulties; counseling, therapists, doctors, all that drama, minus pills. Pills are evil.) I was not too sure if she actually was depressed, instead of just sad.

She began protesting me and others while sobbing and gasping, because she feels she was under appreciated and ignored (we had to ignore her as she was distracting us all from carrying on running the business,) and all tears coming down, and she was saying,
"I am going to go over the line, I am so pushed and can't take this any more...!!"

It was rather hysterical. And all I could think was Mr. Udall saying,
"You're a disgrace to depression."

As Good As It Gets (1997)

I may sound a bit cold and unsympathetic, but there are reasons for that, such as;
I just don't think she is actually medically depressed. I don't see any symptoms of it.
She is creating the cause of sadness to herself by not getting out to have life.
She is not making enough effort to progress at her job, and keep blaming others for not getting any promotion.
She was very, very unsupportive when I was having problems at work, and personal life.

This is not a revengeful thinking. I do feel for her in many ways, I mean, life is a bitch, it's not easy to swallow, I know. But you are responsible for your own life. You can ask for help, and you should, rather than making so much scene to make others' working life difficult, which only results in making her life lot tougher.

Here is the source of my anti depressant xxx

Ohh well.

I Love a News Like This on Fridays

http://www.alertnet.org/thenews/newsdesk/SGE6AI0BY.htm

Peach the Chihuahua: Japan's newest police dog

19 Nov 2010 09:52:55 GMT

Source: Reuters

TOKYO, Nov 19 (Reuters Life!) - Meet Japan's newest police dog -- all 3 kg (6.6 lb) of her. In what is a first for Japan and perhaps the world, a long-haired Chihuahua named "Momo" -- "Peach" -- passed exams to become a police dog in the western Japanese prefecture of Nara. The brown-and-white, perky Momo was one of 32 successful candidates out of 70 dogs, passing a search and rescue test by finding a person in five minutes after merely sniffing their cap. "Any breed of dog can be entered to become a police dog in the search and rescue division," said a Nara police spokesman. But he admitted that news a Chihuahua had been entered may still come as a surprise to many. "It's quite unusual," he said. Television footage showed the 7-year-old Momo bounding across grass or sitting proudly, long hair blowing in the breeze. Momo will be used for rescue operations in case of disasters such as earthquakes, in the hope that she may be able to squeeze her tiny frame into places too narrow for more usual rescue dogs, which tend to be German Shepherds. The public response to the news of Momo's selection took police by surprise, the spokesman said, adding: "The phone's been ringing all afternoon."

I am sure Fogarion can be trained up to this, if I really tried.
At the moment his special skills are;

Spring clean the house by demembraning things in, whether it was approved by Dee or not.
Keep Dee warm by using hyper thermal belly.

He is such a kickass, isn't he?

Happy Birthday Figazilla

Today's Figarion's 1st Birthday. This morning he ate my external floppy drive. That is all I have to say about that.

It has been quite foggy in the area I exist. This is what it looks like on my way to work.

If this doesn't tickle your Goth-y heart, then I don't know what does!?

And this guy is back, again this year. Looking pretty mighty in the foggy veil, eh?

HUG me.
(This guy belongs to this huge garden centre near motorway junction.)

 Not making it on time to work with all the Fig and fog. Better get off to sleep now...

B-Day

Still can't decide what to do for my day of birth. My boss told me I can't have some hours leave in order for me to hop on ferry to France etc. I guess it's still possible to go to France for overnight, certainly done that before, but it's too much money and hassle and not sure it will be enjoyable.

Yet I can't take a short trip in the country. I will be checking my mobile every hour to see if nobody has called. I will be doing the same with my email inbox even in France, but at least my money conscious mind will switch my phone off the entire time if I was out of the UK.

The more I think about it the more I am declining towards just to get ready to sit tight and tolerate the day, in my own place. That's what I have been doing for the past 15 yrs or so, and it is proven to be the cheapest option. Well, any suggestion is welcomed here, am stuck.

Maybe, if I am prepared for the sadness, I might be pleasantly surprised to see the lack of it, and even meet the level of serenity from temporally dementia. Who knows? I mean, why am I even assuming that I will be clinically depressed for just one day when am totally fine now? (This is me, prepping myself with positiveness that's built up from air!)

Today's Figarion

That is Probably the Saddest Thing I've Evere Heard

My birthday is coming up in a few weeks. I hate my birthday, not because I am getting old, but because it is the day one is allowed to act the way one wishes because all the friends, family and any people around must accept that for a day, yet I always come to the realization that I don't have those people to let me do just that.

I have had a series of bad birthdays, from lacking friends' support, and love. I mean, it's not just about people not doing anything for the day, but usually people engage me for the day because they said they are doing something for me, or with me, only to let me down.

It feels wrong to make them do something, or organise it myself when they clearly don't care enough to do stuff for me, so I just don't let people know when my birthday is any more. It is still pretty sad when the day comes and you are finding yourself unable not to remembering it is the anniversary of your birth, and nobody is thanking that you were born.

This year is particularly bad because I had someone celebrate it with me last year, and it actually was one of the nicest days I have ever had, but now just phasing into a bitter memory which I am not yet prepared to treasure as a fond moment.

OK, so I have a problem about my birthday, and I am dealing with it, yes. That's not what this entry is about, I mean, that's not the saddest thing ever. I am quite cheerful till the day comes, and I will be after the day ends, I am sure on that.

So I spent whole day today, not doing house chores nor dog duties, looking up options to get away or do anything for the day to occupy me, stop me from self-pitying.

I looked up city breaks to Paris and Rome. I looked up a pampering weekend trip to North. I looked up a few things. They all cost too much, basically, because of my dogs. Their boarding fee cost as much, if not more, as my hotel + flight.

Maybe I should just take them with me to somewhere quiet where I can just let them run around, I thought.

O, why not. As long as I take them to somewhere I don't have to worry about them peeing on carpet, then it'll be relaxing enough for me. I am sure there are cottages I can rent for weekend.

So I looked that up and came across this;

"Singles Holiday including activities. Take your dog with you."

Well, never. Am not THAT sad. I refuse to go to Singles Holidays, and refuse to go anywhere with my dogs announcing the world that I am single, and looking, even if I was looking, which am not.

Urrgh, I don't know any more. What should I do, or should I just sit in my house with all the phones switched off so I know that nobody is calling?

Today's Figarion

I came home tonight and found this on my floor.

There was a bit of a soft patch there for a while, and this morning my heel went through it, but that didn't pierce a hole.

Then I came to this. My dog now eats floor. Who EATS floor??????

Today's Disaster and Plus

Today, Figarion ate my lip balm, dental floss and two bottles of skin cream labels (he didn't quite manage to destroy bottles.)

And today I was announced to be granted a new (used) Mac.

All and all it's even.

My family. (As for now.)

Happy Birthday to My Baby Waywee

Yestersday was my Waywee's birthday. She's been with us for 8 years now, and I just wanted to be one of those people who does weird, totally unnecessary things for dogs, to feel what it is like to be a mental dog lover whoes world is all about the dog. (I do love my dogs, don't take me wrong, but I don't believe in spending as much money as possible means good dog keeping.)




 So, I bought this. It was about 3 quid. I don't even buy a cake for myself for that much money, so it's me splashing for my baby.

Content is like this. It's about 4 inch in diameter. It's made with cereals and meat and stuff. Not sure what the icing is made of, I didn't have the guts to lick it. It's rock hard and I couldn't cut it with knife, but could break it into smaller pieces with hands. Came in the box without any wrapper, and best before date is 31/10/2011 (!!)

Awww. (Yeah, I know I am sad.)

She couldn't eat it, it was too big. But after given a smaller piece Waywee enjoyed being a birthday gal.

Like Owner, Like Dog

Well, I am a known Ginger fetish. I know that sounds wrong and I obviously won't say that to ginger people's faces, but it seems to have been programmed in my DNA to like ginger guys. It's the force of nature, can't help it.

Anyway, I got home today and found Figarion ate one of my mixer ginger ales. Mixer cans are miniature version of pop cans, and are cost ineffective to buy, but are convenient when one is having a quick drink before bed.

Here is what my stupid dog did achieve today. (My sofa, where this work was carried out, was covered in a can of ginger ale, BTW.)

7 UP is the standard size.

This blog really is beconming the jornal of what he destroyed... I have so may other things I want to write, though...

Tomorrow is Waywee's birthday.

It is almost beautiful what he did.

OK, so just an update

I will strip the den floor soon, I think.

Today, Figarion ate half of my carpet.

I didn't know that carpet can be eaten.

Flappin' Hell

I got up this morning and found my Figarion (my new dog) destroyed the dog flap which did cost me fortune to install wen I replaced the back door some years back. Figarion has a habit of getting himself out of the house when he feels like it even when something is in front of the flap, blocking him from getting out. In many cases it's my baby Wayee (my original dog)  who is poking her head through the flap, looking out for any intruders in our garden. And Figarion just stretches himself between Wayee and the flap (which is, BTW, the size of a small hankie,) and gets out regardless, with Wayee's head locked in this tangle! This force must have done the damage, somehow, because now the hinge of the flap is broken off. Or maybe he just dashed it through too many time, like he is doing right now. (O, look at him go!) Anyway, it's broken and I have a hole in my back door. The flap was all functioning ok for over 7 yrs, and now this??

My, I might as well restart the blog by journaling what Figarion has broke and ate every day. It sure will make an interesting read, and sure to comfort other dog owners who have mischievous dogs, because mine certainly is more than a handful.

Wow, apparently I can just buy the replacement flaps, instead of replacing the whole thing. I'd better stock up then. It feels like the beginning of the endless game, me trapped in this vicious cycle of keep replacing the flap for, like, ever. My ball of joy Figarion will keep dominating my financial plans...

(Names of dogs have been altered for the purpose of cuteness.)

Wayee Baby xx

Figarion (Figs)