Night One

i'm a texan now.

at least, for a few months.

i probably shouldn't say that at all, actually. my dad warned me against coming back as a fan of texas. we all know that colorado is better than any other place anyway.

and now, a quote. "you may all go to hell, and i will go to texas." -davy crockett

what do you think that means? everyone who doesn't go to texas might as well go to hell? or texas is equivalent to hell?...

ps: i don't agree with davy. but i thought it was kinda funny anyway

To Hutto With Gusto. Kind of.

Well, it's finally here. A day I have anticipated for sooo long. I leave for Texas in the morning to pursue a dream I've had for a very long time. Funny thing is, now that it's happening I feel strangely apprehensive.

Given the current status of my heart and spirit, I suppose my apprehension isn't so strange. I'm emotional, scared, lonely. Being outgoing and confident at school will take 34 times more effort than it would on a day where I feel pretty good about life. Staying under the safety of my parents' roof with the company of my family nearby sounds pretty appealing at the moment. Thankfully, even before any of the past week's events transpired, Annie decided to tag along on my drive down there so she could see Austin. I am so glad I will have her company on the journey and I think we will have a good time together. She's rad, by the way - and she knows how to take care of me. Come Monday evening when she flies away, I suppose then might be an appropriate time for a melt down.

But I'll still have Gabe! That is a phrase I have been using quite often lately. He is such a good boy. Even when he's not good. I am not totally sure how he will take to being in a car for 11 hours, but let's pray he is manageable. Maybe one other prayer is that he will not throw up in the car like he did on the way home from the airport. Annie's car is still recovering from the smell and might be for quite some time.

Ok. That is my send off blog. Stay in touch with me. It means more than ever right now.

And such as.

I personally believe that US Americans are unable to do so because some people out there in our nation don't have maps. And, uh, I believe that our education like such as in South Africa and uh the Iraq everywhere like such as and I believe that they should our education over here in the US should help the US or should help South Africa and should help the Iraq and the Asian countries so we will be able to build up our future. For our.

If you're confused, you need to watch this.


When I get bored, I get sad. There are things I could be doing. Should be doing. Packing? Should. Could. Cleaning? Same story. I did get a hair cut. And an oil change. The rest of my energy is put towards internal matters. So I guess mindless videos and entertainment provides a minor escape. I'm only human. And while I really feel for Miss South Carolina...she is the closest thing to giving me a smile this afternoon.

I don't really know where to start today. I am currently dealing with some of the worst pain I have ever encountered in my entire life. Pain that takes away my appetite. Pain that is with me from the second I wake up until the second I finally escape into sleep. Pain that will bring on tears at the drop of the hat and it is totally out of my control. Pain due to a broken heart.

Most anyone who reads this knows the story. Or at least enough of it to know where I am coming from. So, I don't find it necessary to write about the details here. Furthermore, it would be disrespectful and everything is still so fresh that I prefer not to even begin. What I know I can and should share is how I feel inside. It's something I have never been good at, but I better get darn good practice at it in the upcoming months.

The biggest part of me is still in shock. I literally can sit in a daze for who knows how long just telling myself 'This is over. We are not together any more.' So far my mind has had a rough go of things convincing my heart of these things. Maybe because the majority of my heart still belongs to someone else. This was not an expected decision I would have to make and it was over so fast. No easing into things, no sinking in. Just in my face, instantaneous and downright savage in nature.

To make things more painful, I had my trust betrayed by someone who was exceptionally close to me. Someone who I share an endless amount of memories with (which is all the more apparent since this all happened). Someone who I gave my loyalty, respect, and care to as only Becca Parsons does. I suppose that although my love for him is the very thing that makes this so difficult, it has been an extremely redeeming factor in the whole process. I do not feel anger. I do not feel pride or vengeance. I feel love and compassion for someone who has wronged me. I am also currently learning that I need to better love myself and that has been a big part of my reasoning behind this split. Sure, I could ease the current turmoil and pain I feel by going back to the way things were. I could continue to be treated unfairly but get rid of this hurt. Instead, I made a choice to protect my heart. That decision just so happened to require ripping it open.

I must keep a perspective regarding the situation that acknowledges the big picture. I have no idea what the future holds, or what God's sovereign plan is for my life. But I know He is here, and I know He is not going to leave me hanging. He is also going to take care of the one I love. My faith is most definitely being put to the ultimate test. A humanly, sinful part of me dares to tell God that I think I can do a better job of looking after him. That somehow I can heal him or change his mind. I know I am mistaken, and even as I read back on these sentences I can see how foolish that train of thought is. It certainly is difficult to keep that in my mind and heart though, and it is endlessly frustrating to be battling the lies that bombard me from every angle.

This situation would be immensely more horrific if I did not have 1. faith in Christ and 2. the support of the most wonderful, caring people in the world. My Mom to hold me on the couch as I sob. My three sisters who call me just to check in, bring me a soy latte, or offer a listening ear. My Dad who would make a detour on his 14 hour drive just to give me a hug and give me some sound advice. My brother who would provide sincere sympathy and kind words. A best friend who shared in my tears, made sure I did not skip every meal, hugged me over and over, listened for hours and sat at an ice cream shop with me to draw dogs like old times. A college friend who did not hesitate to pay for my pita. Former roommates who play with my hair, share their bed with me, and beg me to move back in with them. Even friends across the country who have taken time from their hectic schedules to have an hour long conversation with me or send me text messages to let me know they are simply thinking of me. I am beyond blessed to have every one of them in my life. I can't even begin to imagine where I would be right now without every kind word, gesture, and prayer they have offered up for me.

As I move towards school, something I have anticipated for so long, a sense of fear and anxiety has now begun to set in. Leaving familiarity is the last thing I want to do right now. I long for what I had just days ago. And yet I know that God will do so much with a new slate in my life. I absolutely hate how much sadness is inside of me right now but it causes me to be vulnerable and fragile, and all walls are down. This allows Him to move me in ways I never would otherwise.

I cannot sugar coat this. There is a dull ache inside of me that does not let off. Just when I think I may have things under control or I feel more composed, I choke again. This will probably be the case for a long time. Time that drags on. But I do believe that God is close to the broken hearted, and I am experiencing that first hand.

My Dog Gabe

Gabe had a not-so-impressive day today.

Let's start at about 5 am or so. I had Maci, Kodi, and Gabe all sleep in my room last night, so any noises and smells that were produced through the night were somewhat anonymous. However, when I started to hear wretching noises in the dark this morning, I knew they were coming from Gabe. Why? Because the dog ingests anything and everything. Some of his most horrible finds? A thumb tack. A razor. My baby blanket. A phone charger. And countless amounts of hairballs, pinecones, and toilet paper. (and you HAVE to know that soggy paper is absolutely revolting to me!) Anyway. When I turned on the light after hearing him coughing something up, I found in his kennel a tiny piece of a red leash. That leash used to be a sturdy 6 foot training tool, but he managed to bite it in two pieces, and then apparently eat a piece of it yesterday sometime. That was just the start of things.

I left him in the kennel while I went to work for a few hours, and let him back out much to his delight in late morning. We played and I loved on him for a while, but I started to get stir-crazy being here alone and decided to go to Starbucks in mid-afternoon. Gabe was not thrilled to go back in his kennel, but I knew it wouldn't be a lengthy outing. So back in he went. For any of you who have not met Gabe, I can tell you that one of his biggest downfalls is how much he barks in his kennel. Not when I am in the room with him; just when he is all alone. He could probably bark for hours on end but it's hard for me to know since I am out of the house while he is in there. I took all the necessary steps to set him up this afternoon: took off his collar and leash, put treats in his Kong bone and left it in there for him, removed all objects from the immediate vicinity around the kennel, put a clip on the outside of the kennel to help hold the removable tray in the bottom, turned on two fans, and turned on some music for him. But as I returned home later on, it was immediately apparent that somehow, some way, something went wrong. The tray was completely pushed out from under the kennel, and turned at a funny angle. The bone had not been touched. And inside the kennel, there was most definitely an article of my clothing. This isn't the first time he has pulled something inside the kennel with him; but I honestly have NO idea how he does it! He cannot fit his legs through the bars as far as I know and nothing is touching the kennel at any tim. Never fear, though; it was only one of my Petsmart polos. Sure, it's destroyed. But it's all the better to me. I only have two more days to wear one anyway...!

I have been trying to transition Gabe into using the back yard for his outside duties like the rest of the dogs. Today I sent him out by himself for a bit and got a phone call from my mom. I got caught up in the conversation for a while before I panicked about where Gabe was. I started looking around the house but eventually remembered where I had left him. So I stepped out on the deck to call for him and quickly realized he was no longer in our yard; he had gone under the fence into the neighbors' yard with their two big dogs to play. I am all for Gabe having friends and socializing, but those dogs are more excited about Gabe invading their territory than a human being crossing the line. So I stood on my side of the fence, calling to him and trying to convince him to come to me. Now, I didn't really expect that he would come bounding back, but what he did instead ignited severe frustration and rage inside of me. He went over to the opposite side of the yard, stood there, and looked at me. Did not ignore me, did not respond to me, just stared. It was like he knew what was coming. I eventually let Maci and Kodi out to help coax him over, and he finally left his staring contest with me. As he took a pass along the fence to check Maci and Kodi out, I bribed him with the prize of all prizes - a stick. And Gabe went for it. As soon as he was within reach, I grabbed whatever body I could - which happened to be his front leg, and started pulling. I did not want one of the neighbor dogs to go for my arms and I also did not want to break Gabe's arms. He started to scream and panic and I was screaming and panicking and my arms got nice and scraped on the wood fence and I finally managed to get him on his side, grab his scruff, and pull him back under the fence. Tada.

The story does not end here, though. After I took the little red piece of leash that was vomitted out of Gabe this morning from my nightstand and threw it into the trash, I stepped out of my room and into the bathroom. Gabe was right behind me as always. I soon realized that he was chewing on something and pried open his mouth to survey the damage. Yes, the red leash was back in his mouth. I wonder if it even had time to hit the bottom of the trash can before he had it back in his care...

Gabe is the puppy I adopted to be my 'demo dog' for training someday. I have faith and hope that he will soon become that. For now, I will continue to get my hands dirty with him - be it pulling things from his mouth, yanking him under fences, or cleaning up puke.

...but I really do love him.

Cut from the same cloth?

Time for anotherrrrr random blog. Again with not much of a profound thought to share, but my thoughts just the same.

I have one week left of work. With the way my bank account looks lately, I honestly could use another month (or three) at my job, but I am incredibly excited to move on to something else. Especially dog training school! And, I finally got an email today from the school that was addressed to all students to be attending the same session as me. Their names: Kimberly, Melissa, Laurie, Crystal, Katherine, Kristin, Shelley, Adrienne, Judith, Kellee, Lucia, Rochelle, Amanda, Jeanette, me of course, and GEORGE! That's right. From what I gather, George will have it quite made while he attends Triple Crown Training Academy. Spencer, you can let out a huge sigh of relief right now. Your previous concern that I would find a dog-loving hunk to run away with down in the Lone Star State can now be tossed aside. I know you've been losing sleep over it, so I just wanted to share the good news. Via no other way but blogging. Fo sho.

Alright, so I'm kidding about Spencer's concerns. But I still find it humorous that this George character will be surrounded by all females for the entirety of his stay there. In all seriousness though, can I share some possible concerns with you, readers? I thought so.

Ok. I love dogs. Always have, always will. And I am very excited to be around other people who feel the same way about them that I do. But. Is it just me, or are some dog people really...interesting...? For example. There is a woman who works at the same place I currently do who is an 'accredited dog trainer'. Nice lady. Talkative. Perhaps too talkative. And by perhaps I mean most definitely. She once spent 15 minutes or so letting a fellow co-worker and myself all of her self-defense advice. Did we ask for it? No. But by golly, I am now aware that if someone grabs me I will just pull my knees as close to my body as I can, lifting my feet off the ground and letting my weight take the guy down. She also in that conversation managed to make us aware of how hard she works over the weekends as well - at the Renaissance festival. Now, I don't want to bash this person. She has not done anything to deserve that kind of treatment. But as I helped train my replacement at the front desk today, she too mentioned that she has a love affair with the Renaissance. It was even the theme of her wedding and she and her spouse give themselves a Renaissance 'budget'! So, perhaps Renaissance and dog-loving have some common threads that I have just not discovered yet.

Another reasonably likely type of person that has crossed my mind? The kind who is so crazy about dogs that they para de it all around for the world to see. Is it bad to profess your love for dogs? Of course not! But bumper stickers: 'My Maltese is smarter than your honor student'? T-shirts: 'My dog is cuter'? Sweater vests with detailed stitching portraying your West Highland White Terrier? Yeah, I've seen it. Again, very happy these people are fellow dog lovers with me. But will I ever spend my hard-earned dollars on dog paraphernalia that I can wear? Doubtful.

I guess where I am headed with all this is that while I have my reservations about 'dog crazies', it's my sincere hope that I meet some great friends down in Texas. And who knows. Maybe I will come back a Renaissance-loving, mutt slogan-wearing certified Dog Behaviorist come Christmas time. Personally I hope it's just the latter.

Got boredom?

Sooner or later one must play with photobooth. I have harvested quite a collection of photography already. And even Gabe got in on the action!


Normalish.


Greenish.








Weirdies









My beautiful son.

Warble Warble

bec·ca·fi·co [bek-uh-fee-koh] Pronunciation Key - Show IPA Pronunciation
–noun
a small songbird, esp. the European garden warbler, Silvia hortensis, eaten as a delicacy in France and the Mediterranean region.

I dictionaried my name the other day, and this word came up in the results. I happen to find it terrific. Terrifico even. A warbler! Is that what I am? Perhaps when I talk to my dogs. They like it though. I think secretly everyone else likes it too. And I wouldn't be me if I didn't warble to my dogs.

Current Thoughts

I have to be honest, this is probably going to be a very lame blog. I am writing it not because I have something profound or good to say, but because I am bored and feel like I should put something new up for you to read. If, that is, you read this. It also promises to be very random because I have absolutely no plan of what I am going to talk about. But...

For starters, it has been really fun having Spencer here. Some highlights:

Hanging out with Jeremy, Ashley, and the boys and watching 'Blades of Glory'

Learning how to use my Macbook!

Having a photoshoot with the very generous and talented Ashley. A product of it:


Dog park with all 4 dogs. Can you say crazy???

Trying new beers together. I think I maybe can become a beer drinker, but not Fat Tire. That 'toasty' thing it's known for is just not my thing! And Spencer can attest to the fact that I should probably never have more than one drink of anything. ANYTHING. Vodka and Red Bull? One. Blue Moon with lemon? One. Margarita? One! I am not drunk off of one drink but my head does start to weigh about 3 times as much as normal and I say even more ridiculous things than normal. And basically turn into a rag doll. Maybe I should stick to Fat Tire after all because I would drink a couple sips and then walk away.

Youtube. Sad maybe, but it's such a source of entertainment for us!

Playing with Micah and Tyler. A recent conversation I had with Micah:

*Micah steals my keys and runs around with them hanging from under his chin*
Me: You give me back my keys!
Micah: No, they are my keys!
Me: Oh really?
Micah: Yes!
Me: What kind of car do you drive?
Micah: *Pauses to think* The new van!!!
Me: Oh wow! Does it go fast?
Micah: Yes!
Me: How fast?
*Silence*
Me: How many miles per hour does the van go?
Micah: TWEVEN HOURS!!!

Hahaha.

And then there's The Leej.

Me: Hey Tyler, what are you doing?
Tyler: Good.
Me: Oh really? Well what's going on?
Tyler: Good.

He also let Mom know today: 'Grandmom, I need some chocolate frosting!' upon entering the house.

Greatest boys. EVER!