Ta Ta, Lazy Summer

Today is my last day of my lazy summer vacation. No, no, no, fear not. My summer vacation is not quite over, it's just that the remainder of it will not be very lazy.

During my lazy time I kind of accomplished some things. For example, 99% of the cabinets, closets, and drawers in my house have been thoroughly cleaned out, and I currently have 6 big bags in my car waiting to be taken to Goodwill. The really terrible thing is that I hadn't cleaned out closets, cabinets, and drawers since I moved here 3 years ago. I was so used to moving every 6 months and being forced to do the spring cleaning thing, that I suppose I was in kind of a state of rebellion.

Then, one day in conversation with some friends, Mike made a statement that spun me into a whirlwind. He said, "Sarah's version of cleaning is taking things and stuffing them into drawers and closets."

I! Do! Not! I thought to myself indignantly. At which point I realized, Well, yeah, I kind of do... which is when I realized that if things are so unimportant that they can be stuffed into some unknown drawer never to be seen again why in the world am I keeping that junk in the first place? Which was the first step in all of this - admitting I had a problem.

In any case, I've spent the last couple of weeks slowly working on that problem. I still have a bit to do, but today is my last day of that.

Because, tomorrow morning Mike and I will head to the REAL Orange County to spend our weekend in Laguna Beach with a small portion of his family. I'm super excited about it because for our upcoming 5 year anniversary his sister got us a posh hotel room right on the beach! *Darn, we should've stayed for the week!

After the weekend, Mike's parents will be heading back down to San Diego with us to spend the week.

The very day they leave, my sister, her hubby, and my gorgeous nephew will be arriving here in So Cal to take their place in our guest room.

Needless to say, I'm very excited to spend 2 weeks exploring San Diego County with various family.

And after those 2 weeks are over...... Well, we just don't need to talk about that right now. Let's just suffice it to say that thanks to my upcoming visitors, I will spend my last weeks of vacation out and about enjoying the wonderful city in which I live rather than slaving away indoors cleaning closets and drawers.

Not Just Any Dog

I came upon a quote once that said, "If it's not a border collie, it's just a dog."

Well, I have a border collie, and I'm here to tell you today that there is nothing more true than that statement.

There are times when my border collie Ramsey behaves like a normal dog. When no one else is around he is able to relax and cuddle and sleep. On walks, also, he is a fairly normal dog.

But any time anyone new or different is around, any time a ball or frisbee is anywhere in his vicinity, or any time anyone goes swimming in our pool he turns into some kind of super dog freak.

For example, this weekend we took our dogs to the local dog park. Our husky ran around and socialized with the other dogs. Very normal. Nothing out of the ordinary.

Our border collie, on the other hand, was on a mission the entire time he was there. The mission, if I was reading his body language correctly, went something like this: MUST. CHASE. BALLS. Notimeforanythingelse. MUST. CHASE. BALLS.

We had brought a ball for him to fetch, but it didn't quite go fast enough or far enough for his standards. He is crazy fast. And he never just trots or jogs anywhere he goes. He is always in an all out, full on sprint that amazes everyone who ever sees him. You can barely see his feet touch the ground. I kid you not.

In any case, the ball I was throwing wasn't good enough for him. So, he set his sites on the frisbee guy. There was a guy there with his boxer who was very obviously trying to teach his boxer to play fetch. Well, sorry boxer guy, but your dog never stood a chance at catching that frisbee when Ramsey noticed it. Without fail, the man would toss the frisbee, and Ramsey would haul ass to the end of the dog park, jump into the air, and catch it victoriously in his mouth. I don't think that man liked Ramsey very much. He seemed rather miffed.

If his biggest problem was that he stole other dogs' frisbees, I wouldn't worry about it too much. But, that's not even it. The problem is that he doesn't have any limits. Most dogs have limits and pain thresholds. But, border collies aren't built like most dogs, and I do believe that my border collie would chase a frisbee until he keeled over dead. No joke.

Because he ran at an all out sprint chasing every frisbee or ball being thrown in that dog park that day, he was near death when we forced his exit from the dog park.

I felt like the worst dog owner in the world walking my exhausted, gasping for breath, foaming at the mouth border collie back to the car. I wanted to scream to the accusing onlookers, "I tried to make him stop to drink water! He would take two sips and run off in search of a ball! I tried to stop throwing him the ball in order to give him a much needed rest! He would simply take the ball and drop it a someone else's feet! He's a maniac! A maniac I tell you!"

But, it wouldn't have mattered had I tried to defend myself. When other dog owners look at Ramsey they see a dog just like any other. What they don't realize is that Ramsey is not just any dog; he is a border collie and those two things are not even close to being the same thing.

A Lake and a Plan

I promise myself that as soon as I finish writing this post and send it out into cyber world I will get my butt off this computer chair and go be productive.

Not that I haven't been productive lately, it's just that it usually takes me a couple of hours in the morning to get my act together. There's just way too many interesting things to do that add absolutely zero value to my life. Most of these things include the internet, my one tried and true addiction.

Mooving on..

Today I am going to start my day with a walk around a lake. It's a 5 mile trek, and the reason I love it so much is because it just fits the bill for the kind of workout I need/can handle. This is how my walk usually goes: I am completely gung ho, this is easier than I thought for the first oh.. say.. about 3 miles? At which point I start to feel tired, hot, thirsty. If I were on my elliptical at home or walking in my neighborhood I could easily end the exercise. Exercise is supposed to be all mind over matter, but I don't really have any of that. This is not the case with the lake, though. You see, if you don't turn around when you hit mile marker 2, you're bound to finish the entire 5 miles either by turning around at mile 2.5 or actually making your way around the rest of the lake.

I also love the lake so much because it is BEAUUUTIFUL, and there are just people everywhere. People of varying levels of athleticism all exercising. Some ride bikes, some rollerblade, some run, some walk. It's very motivational.

I normally procrastinate and head to the lake around 11:00 -- which has me walking during peak sun hours -- which isn't the smartest planning on my part - which is why I am bound and determined to get out of the house early this morning.

So yeah, I am going to take a walk around this lake as soon as I stop writing and hit "Publish".

Btw, I tried biking it once thinking it would be easier exercise. Not so much. I mean, yeah I finished the lake much more quickly. But, OUCH, my butt! It literally hurt for days after my bike ride. Before I try that one again, I might have to invest in some of those padded shorts I always make fun of bikers for wearing!

Oh gosh, I am so longwinded that I started out trying to tell you my schedule, and I haven't even gotten past the first thing!

#2 on my life of To Do's today is straighten up the house including doing dishes and some laundry.

#3 is take a shower and go grocery shopping.

#4 is call my beautician (do people even call them that anymore?) because I am in desperate need of a new hair color.

#5 is clean my bedroom. I have been doing spring cleaning room by room, but have terribly procrastinated on my bedroom. I mean, I already cleaned out my closet, but that's only the half of it. I still have a dresser full of junk I have to go through and give away.

#6 Is the sun still out? Relax in the pool with a good book.

And that's about it.

Sometime this week I want to go into school and check out what's going on there. It's always nervewrecking going back there after a few months off. I never know what I'm going to walk into or just how overwhelmed I'll be. But, oddly, I have already started thinking about the school year and actually getting somewhat *GASP* excited about it. Shocking, I know. I even created a website where my students and parents can go for homework assignments and announcements. I am thrilled about it.

So, I suppose I need to get this thing published and get my butt out the door.

Sionara my friends, I'm heading out the door to take a nice walk around a lake.

Neighborhood Woes

I'm convinced that someone in our neighborhood has it out for us. I have no idea why, but all signs seem to be pointing to that fact.

No, this has nothing to do with my stalker. I don't think?

Speaking of my stalker, though, I never mentioned on here the strange thing that happened the very day after my stalker visited me in my garage. It was about 10:00 pm on a Saturday night, when suddenly the doorbell rang. Mike and I both assumed it was Stalker Man come to make good on his promise to pay back the $5 and ask about the computer. But, alas, it was not him.

Instead, it was a note in our screen door that said the following:

Hey Gorgeous,
I miss you. You still haven't told your husband about us, have you? When do I get to see you again? - Your Real Lover

Yeah. Pretty weird, eh? It could have been uber creepy considering it arrived the very next day after my stalker encounter. But, something about the whole thing just reeked of teenage prank. The dead giveaway was that the letter was supposed to be from a guy, yet there were lipstick kisses all over the paper. Obviously, a girl and a boy had collaborated in the making of the note.

In any case, 2 odd incidents in 2 days = my neighborhood is beginning to suck!

But, I haven't even really gotten to the part where someone has it in for us.

Someone in this neighborhood keeps reporting us. Once to the cops and twice to the city.

The first incident occurred soon after Mike's return from Iraq. We had left our trash cans on the side of the road a day or two too long after trash day, and next thing you know we had a warning on our front door from the city which indicated that someone had reported us. Really? For trash cans on the side of the road? Really? I mean if we lived in a classy neighborhood with a homeowners association, I could understand the problem. But, just across the street from us we have some people with animal horns hanging over their garage, so I don't think you can really consider this an upclass place. And, If you really have that much of a problem with us keeping our trash cans on the curb for too long, couldn't you do the neighborly thing and kindly knock on the door and tell us it's against the city's regulations to keep it there? Clearly we didn't know that or we wouldn't have left it there. It's not that we were trying to stand up to the "man" by keeping our trash cans out too long. We're not nearly that tough.

The 2nd incident occurred, also, soon after Mike had returned from Iraq. We were in the process of selling one of our cars, so he had it parked on the corner with a for sale sign on it. One night, after we were already in bed, actually, we had a knock on the door. It was the police. Apparently, the cop told Mike, we had a very angry neighbor. According to the cop, though, we were not breaking any law with the way that the car was parked, but he did ask us to move it a few feet just to keep the peace. Ok, Officer. No problem, Officer. Anything you say, Officer. Being in the military and all, Mike has no problem with authority. So he moved the car. And we wondered who the hell in this neighborhood has it out for us?

A few peaceful months passed by without us breaking a single city regulation or pissing off any of our neighbors. *Whew. Wipe sweat of brow. Rejoice.

Until this week...
When I opened my door to get the mail and there was another lovely warning from the city waiting for me out there.

Apparently someone in the neighborhood has taken issue with our sprinkler heads. They're round instead of straight or something like that, I don't know. So a little bit of water gets on the sidewalk when our sprinklers go off. So, this somebody felt the need to call the city and complain about us. Now let me tell you a few things about these sprinkler heads. First of all, I consider us lucky when none of our sprinkler heads are broken and shooting geysers 10 feet into the air. Second of all, our sprinklers go off in the middle of the night. Literally. They go off at like 2 am or something ungodly like that. So who in the hell is staying up until 2 am to check to make sure that we have "flat" instead of "round" sprinkler heads and no water is getting on the sidewalk? No, seriously? Who?

I'm desperate to know who in this neighborhood is so intently monitoring our activities. Is it you, nosy neighbor across the street? Are you possibly feigning friendship with Mike and ratting us out behind our backs? Is it you nice woman who walks her dog every 5 seconds? You always smile and wave, but are you secretly checking out our sprinkler heads during your middle-of-the-night-rounds? Is it you quiet woman across the street? I know Mike borrowed your weed whacker that one time, and you didn't seem too keen on lending it to him, but he returned it in tact, right? And what about you couple with animal heads hanging on your garage? You seem nice enough, but maybe you're the ones policing the neighborhood.

Oh, Tattle Tale Neighbor, Come out, Come out, Wherever you are!

I mean, I guess what it all boils down to is that Mike and I are really new to this home ownership thing. Apparently, neighborhoods have all kinds of weird rules like don't leave your garbage can on the curb too long, use flat sprinkler heads, and whatever you do, don't piss off the neighbors.

But, we don't need someone ratting on us every 5 seconds. What we need is a kindly neighbor to take us under his or her wing. Befriend us, and update us on the ways of the land here. Help us out. Don't call the city and the police on us.

I mean, seriously, Come on!

The Ups and Downs of Pool Ownership

I have a love/hate relationship with many things in my life, however, if I had to name one thing that I love/hate the most it would have to be my pool.

When we first fell in love with the house that we currently own, I knew that the pool in the back yard was going to be more of a burden than a joy. You see, I have a cousin who owns a pool and had heard her tales of pool ownership woe once or twice before.

It's true that I was aware that owning a pool would be a pain in the butt, but the truth of the matter is that I didn't really even know the half of it.

The thing is that the pool is not brand new. Or even kind of new. It's old. Really old. Old enough that the plaster is wearing away and a few tiles here and there have jumped off of the pool wall in search of freedom. We have gotten quotes for pool restoration a couple times now, and we dream of owning a pool paradise. It's just that the pool paradise price tag is something in the ballpark of $16 grand.

And another thing. Whoever built a pool and then decided to plant a thousand palm trees all around it (ok, so maybe it's more like 15. But still...) obviously did not think that one through very well. As I have mentioned before, palm trees are dirty, and they create little teeny tiny flowers that are forever blowing off and landing not on the sidewalk, not on the grass, but in the pool, of course!

Keeping up with the pool has been the bane of my existence when Mike marches off on his deployments. It has turned green on me twice now. Once it was my fault. The second time was because of those lovely SoCal Wildfires that sent every ash, treebranch, leaf, and fleck of dirt in a 30 mile radius into our pool. It was a true joy, let me tell you.

But, you know, despite the facts that it isn't exactly brand new, I am constantly having to skim miniscule flowers from its surface, and it is my burden to bear during Mike's deployments, there's one thing about my pool that I have to admit is pretty darn awesome...

The sparkling blue water that calls my name on a hot summer day.

Since I returned from my 2 week adventure on the East Coast, Mike and I have been swimming pretty much every day. I love it. love it. love it. and love it some more. Sometimes I sit on the steps reading my book. Sometimes I float on a raft. Sometimes Mike and I take turns doing cannon balls into the deep end. Sometimes we play water volleyball. Sometimes we just spend a couple hours swimming, exploring, treading water, and floating on our backs. It is the life. Seriously.

I guess you could say that I hate my pool 9 months out of the year and love it for 3. I haven't quite made up my mind whether it's worth it yet, but what I do know is that wherever we go next (and whenever we go for that matter), I sure will miss the summer bliss of owning my very own pool.

My Brother

While my sister and I have grown close in our old age, that was not the case when we were children. I was the bratty little sister who made fun of her when she started wearing bras and when pimples starting making their appearance on her face. I also would eavesdrop on her phone conversations and steal (borrow) things from her bedroom. I'm pretty sure I might have snuck a peak into her diary once or twice as well. I did it all out of love, but she didn't see it that way and so didn't really care for my company. When I was old enough to realize the best way to earn her affections was not through annoying the crap out of her, she was already out of the house and in college.

No, my sister was not my biggest fan, nor was she my partner in crime growing up. Those two titles went to my brother, Eric.

My fondest memories of my brother include:

*Conducting the "Ant Olympics" in our backyard sandbox. Events included ant races and ant swimming contests (whose ant could stay afloat in a bucket of water the longest before meeting its untimely death by drowning?).

*Attempting to build a playhouse. Which we didn't finish. Because at some point we realized that it was only big enough for one person curled into a small ball to fit into.

*Playing a game where we took turns locking each other out of the house, and having to find a way in. Popular solutions were crawling in through the kitchen window and crawling in through the bathroom window. One time I locked him out when we weren't playing, and he got a little bit upset. He kicked a door down, and I ran for dear life.

*Fighting, wrestling, kicking, hitting, pinching, biting (I think the pinching and biting were all me. I didn't play by the rules). We were very aggressive with each other, and despite the fact that he was 2 years older and sometimes 2 feet taller than me, he didn't always win those fights. I had sheer force of will on my side. For this reason, he will still warn people that I could most likely kick their butt in a fight, if I wanted it bad enough.

One summer Eric decided to be my personal basketball trainer. I was having a lot of trouble with my layups. For this reason he decided to tie my right hand and my right leg together and then forced me to do layup after layup. I think I got the message after that. Right hand goes up, so does right leg.

After a blizzard one winter where the snow drifts measured several feet high, we and some of our friends spent a night jumping off of our 2nd story deck onto the piles of snow. Some people were really brave and were even maneuvering somersaults off the deck. I wasn't quite that brave, myself.

When we were older teenagers, most of these shenanigans stopped. Instead of fighting and scheming, we spent many a summer night in our basement watching the real world and chowing on some late night mcdonalds, Sheetz hoagies, or KFC. (Hey we were both tall and gangly, we could do those kinds of things without a second thought.. then. He, unfortunately, still can. Me, not so much.)

There was a brief time when I was in 8th grade and Eric was in 10th that we had the same haircut. We looked like twins and people would comment on it all the time. I don't really know which one of us should have been more embarrassed over that one...


He, being the older brother with a license, was also kind enough to drive me around. A lot of big brothers would be embarassed to spend so much time with their little sister. But, not my brother.

When Eric finally left for college I cried. and cried. and cried.... and cried. What was I going to do without my best friend?

Of course, with Eric out of the house, our relationship did inevitably change a little bit.

But we were still known, every now and then, to be partners in crime once again. For example, one weekend while he was home, we stumbled upon the stash of candy my dad was planning to give us in our stockings for Christmas. It was several boxes of nerds, to be precise. So, we ate 80% of the nerds, glued the packages back together, and placed them back where we found them. We laughed hysterically when, a few months later on Christmas morning, we received those (mostly) empty packs of nerds in our stockings.

The day before I got married, Eric drove me to the bank, and told me that he had watched Mike and I grow together over the past few years. He said that he believed we were really good for each other. I took it as his blessing, and it meant the world to me.

Time and distance have brought us further apart than I would like to admit. But, I still love my brother just as much as ever, and I am still fiercely protective of him. Even though we haven't talked about it, I know for certain that he feels the same way about me.

I just feel really lucky to have a brother like him.

Huh?!

It's true that after spending 2 weeks with my 3-year-old nephew, I marveled over his language abilities and social skills.

Lucas regularly had me in hysterics over the very adult things that would come out of his mouth.

For example, one evening while having dinner on my mom's friend's deck, everyone was sitting at the table except for Lucas. He had finished his meal and was wandering around the deck with one of those walkway lights. Suddenly, that walkway light went crashing to the ground, and everyone immediately turned to look at Lucas. Thinking quickly, he exclaimed, "It wasn't me!"

Everyone, of course, burst into laughter. Where does this kid come up with these things?

There was one expression that regularly came flying out of his mouth, though, that was not true to his otherwise prodigy-like verbal skills.

"HUH?!" He would utter noisily when he didn't quite catch what you had just said to him.

It drove me bonkers. I wondered, where did this kid come up with this? And, then I realized his mother said it too. I figured she had taught him the bad habit.

But, now I'm not so sure. You see, lately, I have often been catching myself in the act of uttering that awful (can we even call it this?) word. Mike will call something out to me from inside the house to which I will loudly respond, "HUH?!"

I literally shudder every time I say it. Yet, I cannot seem to quit this horrible habit.

This is where I feel the need to apologize to my nephew and my sister for all the judgments I sent their way due to the use of this "word". It is a nasty habit and addiction that cannot easily be broken once it becomes part of your vocabulary. I now understand this to be true because of my first hand experience.

So, my dearest blog readers, I pray that you never come in contact with a "HUH?!" user. But if you do, for your own well-being as well as the well-being of your uninfected friends and family, turn around and run far, far away. This infection spreads like wildfire. If you're not careful, you will be its next victim.