Due by midnight.

I have two assignments due and I am having a very hard time motivating myself to get them done. So, in a blatant attempt to avoid homework, I'm going to post some pics for your viewing pleasure.

Let's start with talking about how counterproductive it is to try to get Boyfriend and Dog to help with folding the laundry. They don't fold at all. All they do is put panties on their heads and watch t.v.

Then let's talk about how lazy the animals are while Boyfriend and I are doing yardwork...

Finally, let's look at Dog's new tag in honor of her full name, Justinie Halloweenie.

16 hours later.....

Here in my little mountain town we have this really cool thing...time release mosquitoes. This is the second time Boyfriend and I have encountered them. Here's how it works. You go out hiking near water, you see a few mosquitoes landing on you but you slap them away, you think you got them before they bit you and you go home happy as a clam. Then sometime the next day one mosquito bite pops up, then another and another and another. It's like the onset of the pox! Right now, I've got about 14 bumps and counting. I'm not a fan of this new technology.
On said hike near water, I also attempted drowning due to hypothermia. Good times. See, we took the dog so she could do some swimming at our favorite little watering hole. Boyfriend was tossing a stick in the water but the dog came out with not a stick but a branch. We quickly dubbed it Diablo's Pitchfork and dog found it to be the absolute best stick ever on the planet. Boyfriend was tossing BEST STICK EVER into the pond much to the dog's delight when suddenly, he got a little too enthusiastic and tossed it into deeper water. The poor dog couldn't swim and get a good grip on the branch to bring it back even though she tried several times. The branch moved into unreachable waters and you've never seen such a sad hound dog in your life. She sat on the shore and whined and pouted and gave me the most pathetic sad dog eyes. Guess who just happened to be wearing her bathing suit? Guess who is a total sucker for a sad dog? Guess who went into the water? Yep, me. I'm an idiot. I waded in to the thighs thinking it wasn't so bad but when I made the big plunge, all ability to breathe was sucked from my body. I made some noises that even I did not recognize as human. I couldn't get my limbs to work. I thought "Oh my god, I'm gonna drown in six feet of water getting a stupid stick for a stupid dog." Luckily, I persevered and got the stick and got back to shore before I sank. HAPPIEST DOG EVER IN THE HISTORY OF THE WORLD. Outcome: I'm the dog's hero. For just a little while, she liked me better than Boyfriend.
So, today I'm bumpy and loved. Guess it all balances out.

So much to discuss.

First off, let's discuss my last post about honesty. I received several responses in my private email. They all had the same theme. It was okay with everyone that I wrote something that I couldn't find the honesty to post. It's very nice of everyone to be so forgiving but I sort of feel as if they missed the reasoning behind it. The post was about me being overweight. I am between 9 and 15 pounds overweight depending on which website you are consulting. My weight has always fluctuated but when I'm on the heavier side, I'm always unhappy. I don't feel physically or emotionally comfortable. I have no trouble admitting I'm a little tubby. The problem with the post was that if I were to push the "post" button, I would have to publicly admit several things that I already know about myself, but if you were to read the post, you would come to these conclusions about me. I don't want people to come to the conclusions and think I'm trying to hide it and feel as if they are clever for figuring it out. Turns out I feel more comfortable just blurting it out than letting my writing speak for itself. Here it is...

1. I'm vain. My looks mean something to me. I have never felt I was attractive but at the same time, rare were the instances that I really felt truly ugly. I've always felt average. Now, I'm feeling ugly way more often and I hate it. If I hate it, then that means looks are something that I feel is important but my value system tells me vanity is an unattractive characteristic. So, I have to deal with the weight and a really ugly trait that I have learned I possess. Double whammy.

2. I'm a big (fat) hypocrite. Seriously, my hypocrisy runneth over. Were I to hear a comment about another woman being heavy or fat or whatever, I will be the first to rip the commenter a new one. I would be only too happy to point out that the commenter has no idea about said woman's personality and maybe she is a wonderful person and maybe she is a much better person than the commenter who is obviously petty and shallow. Then I turn around and decide I don't want to be fat. Fat is bad. What? I don 't believe that. If I'm such a defender of the fact that women are beautiful in all shapes and sizes, then why can't I be any size? And I am a defender. There is this woman who comes into the library where I work. She is black and 50 pounds or so overweight and drop dead gorgeous. One of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. My eyes follow her around the room and I wish I could be her. Her skin is the most amazing shade. She literally glows. So, to sum up, fat is okay for others but I wouldn't be caught dead carrying extra pounds. Am I really like that? How does one live with really being like that? Why can't I just live with the weight? I'm still well within healthy ranges. Boyfriend loves me. Why do I care? Why? Anyone?

So those are the two big things. Vanity and hypocrisy. Oh, and the weight. All of these are very heavy. I'm going for light. I want to be light physically and emotionally. I want to be a good, skinny person and I'm not sure those two can go together with me.

Here are two good things, however, that make me feel light. Things that make the weight matter a little less. (Warning: my own horn is about to be tooted but it's few and far between so I'm entitled)

First, a family came into the library yesterday. There is a father and two young kids, Kai and Eden. Both kids are the sweetest little peanuts. Both are inquisitive and smart. I have spent many hours perusing the stacks with them, trying to find the perfect books. I introduced Eden to The Velveteen Rabbit because she had a small stuffed rabbit that she had rubbed smooth. Kai is a little sponge. He'll absorb anything I hand to him. I've had many good times with them. They came in yesterday to tell me the family was moving to Monterey. I was very sad. I'm really going to miss them. The good part is the father pulled me aside to thank me. That's right, thank me. He said that I and the library had been an invaluable part of the kids' lives. He wanted to tell me how much he appreciated the time and love I had given to his children and that I had really made a difference. Did you guys hear that? A difference. I made a difference. I made these kids' lives better. Me. I'm sorry, was I saying something about body image? Do I even have a body? Who cares. I made little lives better. Sweet, beautiful, full of potential lives. There is no high like that.

Second, I had a party at the library today to welcome the after-school teens back. I was told recently that I was the teen librarian even though no position exists. I earned this title by, well, paying attention to teen services. But I will tell you that teens and I have a very turbulent relationship. There is a great deal of the time that I hate the little punks. They are frustrating and annoying and I'd really like smack their smart-ass mouths sometimes. At the same time, I believe that they are a population that is discarded in libraries, especially mine. Several years ago, I put together a teen advisory committee that in turn built a "teen zone" for the kids. However, we never provided any programming. I couldn't understand why but I was part time so I couldn't do anything about it. Now, I can. I just finished busting my ass and fighting some major battles to get public performance rights so I could show the teens movies, to get a television for the library and getting my hands on a Wii gaming system for them. I planned programs through December, at least one a week. I worked hard and I don't admit to effort often. I like to make things look easy. The kick-off to all this was today. I ordered pizza and got soda and set up the new television with my own personal laptop so they could show YouTube videos on the big screen. 30 some teenagers that hated me last spring due to my disciplinary ways loved me today. They were engaged and excited and polite and curious. They were the teens I wanted to deal with. We laughed and joked and chatted. I even got hugged several times. The tide may be turning and it would be due to my hard work. That rocks. That rocks big time.

Wow, that was long post for me but I've been waxing philosophical lately. Couldn't be helped.

Experiments gone awry.

Some time ago, I made a pact with myself. I would always be complety honest. I had a time where, due to my dishonesty, I lost everything. Literally. Had to begin my life again from scratch. So I decided that it would be complete honesty from here on out. I express every thought when I feel it needs to be expressed and I express it at the soonest possible opportunity. I hold back nothing. It has worked out great for the most part. I have no guilt or regret from the last few years. It's very freeing.

However, I just wrote an extremely long blog about being overweight and my experience with it. Tried to write it with complete honesty. Guess what? I can't post it.

It's disappointing. I thought I had this honesty thing down. I thought I could tackle anything with no fear. I was wrong.

Interesting.

Highlights from time not well spent....

No posts since April from me? Really? Where have I been? Where did May go? Egads.
I have, in my defense, thought about posting several times. Here are just a few topics that I've written blogs for in my own head.
-Legally changing back to my maiden name.
-How the gravelly part of Michael Stipe's voice takes me back in time
-Blue and gold caterpillars
-The reaction of females when you tell them you dreamt that Johnny Depp was gay
-Down's Syndrome adult males with fetishes for girls with "teenage hair" and how that is has creepiness factor of 11
Intriguing, no? Alas, I did not type out any of these blogs but trust me, you would have been moved. You would have laughed and cried and had a whole new reason to wake up every day. Or they would have been boring as hell. The world will never know.
Here's what I have been doing instead of blogging.
-I (or more accurately, my hairdresser) cut off seven inches of hair. People reacted as if I should have reacted more. I have very little feeling about it one way or the other. It's just hair. If I lost seven inches of small intestine, I would have reacted.
-I've been doing work, work, work. The Summer Reading Program starts next week. Man your battle stations.
-I've been doing homework, homework, homework. The fact that I'll graduate in less than a year is the only thing keeping me from an aneurysm.
-I've been doing yardwork, yardwork, yardwork. I'm telling ya, people, my yard is fabu. Flowers galore, new fountain, new teak bench, new outdoor rug (I am unnaturally in love with outdoor rugs.)
Other than that, not much happening. Washed the dog today. There was bleeding involved (on my part, not the dog's).
Keep your eye's peeled for upcoming pics of my completed fabu yard.
Must sleep now. Exhausted.

I'll see your bronchitis and raise you a costochondritis...

I know you all wait with bated breath to see what my excuse for not posting is this month. Well, I won't keep you waiting. I've been sick.
"Oh, Pollywog" you say "Did you have cough due to cold that might have laid you up for a week?"
Oh, if only it had been that easy. Nope, this Friday will be 5 weeks of feeling under the weather. 5 freakin weeks.
So, I had a sore throat and little cold. No big deal. Started to get better but then got much worse with the addition of a hacking cough. Went to the doctor and the doctor said "No more monkeys jumping on the bed." No, not really. The doctor said "Most likely bronchitis. Here are some antibiotics." Okay. Sounds simple enough.
Took the pills. Nothing. Still hacked for a week or two more. Then last Friday, a sharp pain starts in my chest. I think I have "popped" a rib. "Pollywog, what the hell does that mean?" you ask. Well, several years ago, I had bronchitis and this same sort of thing, just with a different rib and the doctor said that the ribs that aren't attached to the sternum are attached to a thin strip of cartilage and that I had coughed so hard that one of those ribs had become unattached. I figured I had done that again.
So after 4 weeks of coughing and a new searing pain in my chest and a realization that I JUST CAN'T BREATHE, I go back to the doctor. She takes several x-rays, sees nothing and proceeds to start poking me in the chest right where it hurts. I wince and whimper and she says (and I quote) "Oooooooohhhh, that's costochondritis!" Oh. Of course. Costochondritis. Why didn't I self-diagnose that one? It is so obvious with a bit of chest poking.
What is costochondritis? Glad you asked cuz I had to look it up too. It is "an inflammation of the cartilage that connects a rib to the breastbone (sternum). It causes sharp pain in the costosternal joint — where your ribs and breastbone are joined by rubbery cartilage. Pain caused by costochondritis may mimic that of a heart attack or other heart conditions. " So, as you can see, nothing serious. JUST THE CONSTANT FEELING THAT I'M HAVING A HEART ATTACK! It only really hurts when I, say, breathe or something silly like that. Coughing is an experiment in horror. And sneezing? Good God, no. Won't happen. Would rather cut my nose off. And talking apparently causes coughing which if you were paying attention equates with hell. So, I'm basically worthless as a human being. And, of course, it's viral. Nothing to be done.
Actually, she gave me a shot of anti-inflammitory in the keister and a prescription for Naproxen but "prescription strength" and I think "Great, this has got to be good stuff" but it turns out I'm taking a whoppin' 60 mg more than I would if I took two Aleve. She did, however, give me Vicodin.
So, that's it. The reason I didn't post. Feel like doody caa-caa.
Enough about me. How are you?

Our new bundle of joy...

Not a single post in February, Pollywog? Nope, been very busy. Quite busy indeed. Lots of school (which sucks by the way). Joined the gym hoping to lose the 10 pound that Boyfriend's fine cooking has added to the ol' bag of bones. And here is the biggest thing, a new addition to the family.

Announcing the adoption of our girl, Justinie Halloweenie!!!

Justine was raised by our friend and coworker, Monica, as a guide dog for the blind. The dogs are raised and socialized until they are about 16 months old and then they go off to guide dog school. There they have to make it through 10 phases before they graduate. Justinie made it to phase 8 and flunked out, much to our delight. (Sorry, blind people.) So, we had told Monica we would adopt her if she didn't make it. And her she is. By the way, she failed because of "food distraction". Hey, I'm food distracted too so she'll fit right in. And that's where she got the name Justine but we already have Monster and Ghost so she became Justinie Halloweenie!

Cats are not thrilled. Luckily, they are not scared but nor are they chomping at the bit to play with her. Justinie has had several swats to the nose. In fact, Monster was so distressed, he decided to give up his life as a cat and become a professional mousepad.

Anyway, we are thrilled and today is her 2 year birthday.

Happy Birthday, Halloweenie!

Why I live here.

Sorry the old Pollywog has been absent for a while. School started and then the stomach flu hit. I had one of those lovely moments where you feel you either have to start feeling better or die and honestly, you don't really care which way it goes. I would have been happy with either. Luckily, better was the way it went.

Reason for this post. I have recently been reflecting on why I live in my little mountain town. There has been a recent mass exodus to the big city by many young people seeking a better financial situation. It's true. My little town has a high cost of living, ridiculous real estate prices and low wages. I could make more money doing exactly what I do somewhere else. But there are many reasons I stay. Here a couple:

1. Right now, it is dumping snow. It's a fairly good storm and the second we've had. The first dumped about 2 feet of snow in 24 hours. Here's what I love. No one is complaining. At all. We love it. After the last storm, boyfriend and I decided not to dig the car out and walk to work. Being as the sidewalks were gone, we strolled down the middle of the street. Lots of neighbors were out shoveling. Was anyone complaining? No. Topics of discussion: How the snow was going to make the wildflowers amazing this spring. How the summer was going to be great. How the local ski resort will finally have a good season. No complaints. Snow is like a holiday around here.

2. I looked up from my desk on Wednesday and a good friend who lives in Ohio stood before me. Surprise. I've known him for probably about 10 years. I was introduced to him by my college roommate. How does this relate to my town? It turns out almost everyone I know knows him. It's fascinating to see the different connections. Boyfriend knows him from another friend of his. This other friend of his used to be my neighbor, which is how I knew him. Everyone in this town is one or two degrees of seperation. Another example, a coworker of mine won tickets to a concert on a local radio call-in thing. I know the deejay. When my coworker won, I was in the Caribbean. My coworker said where she worked and the deejay, on air, asked her if she was jealous of me being in the Caribbean. (I love that it was announced on the radio that I was on vacation.) Anyway, my coworker replied that she wasn't not jealous because she had just returned from Grand Cayman, where her two sons live, one of which we had dinner with while we were there. See? All connected.

I could go on and on. Point is I love it here and I will be devastated if it comes to the point I can't live here anymore which is a real threat. I have no idea where I will go. Do they need a librarian in Mayberry?

Molly spoke in class today

I just ran into a rare occurence. Didn't occur to me until five minutes ago. What are the odds of a musician staying around long enough to satisfy your headbanging needs at 19 but provide you with haunting melodies when you are 34? Don't see that much, do ya? But it's happened.

And who is this mystery fella? It's Mr. Eddie Vedder. I was just watching the video to Guaranteed from the Into the Wild soundtrack and thinking this:

The voices in Pollywog's head:
Voice 1: What a gorgeous melody.

Voice 2: What a gorgeous man.

Voice 1: What?

Voice 2: Eddie. Still gorgeous.

Voice 1: Oh my god, he is still gorgeous. I love him just as much but in a whole different way.

Voice 2: That's because at 19 you were attracted to his anger and his bad boy ways because you yourself were angry but now you are older and wiser and mellower and he has mellowed with you. Now you are attracted to him because you respect him and his music.

Voice 1: Yep, still wanna do him, though.

Voice 2: Me too. Pollywog. Me too.

But it's all true. I was sooooooooooo in love with him at 19. I even tried to look like him. I wore a lot of flannel and wore my hair hanging in my eyes. Even had the green army jacket. I'd crank my Pearl Jam cassette tape in my Ford Escort and bang head thus flinging aforementioned hair. If anyone can locate my good friend, Bob, of the time, he can confirm this.

I saw Eddie on something the other day with Sean Penn talking about the movie and I thought. "Wow, this guy really seems to have it together."

My god, I'm old. But it's okay. So is he.


Oh, and btw, news flash. I just saw Sinead O'Connor on the telly. She looks like shit. Just so you know.