Entry 39: When a Lady Goes Ape Shit at a Park

The other day, I was at a park that I frequent quite often with my dogs,  in a neighborhood about 10 minutes away from where I live. It’s in a very family-orientated community where there’s a dog park, a skate rink, and a swimming pool, a fire station next to the park, and a school right across the street.  I generally go there to walk/run around in the grassy areas of the park with my dogs and keep on top of focus exercises and commands… so if they see a gecko, bird, or squirrel – they’re focus is still on me, rather than other distractions.

Anyways, at the park…I was getting out of my car and a van pulls up right beside me. An older in his 40s comes out.

“Hi,” I said as I made eye contact. If there’s one thing that ‘s changed about me living in the desert, is that I say “hello” a lot more to strangers.

“Do you’re dogs have leashes?” he asks.

Behind my sunglasses, I had a look of confusion. Of course I had leashes. This isn’t an off-leash dog park.  I even have poop bags to pick up poop because I’m not a jerk.  I like to think I have the look of someone responsible who is doesn’t break rules, because I feel like I’m a rule, but maybe he didn’t see me as such.

A lady pulls up in another vehicle and asks, if I was leaving. Behind my sunglasses, another look of confusion. She then proceeds to yell at him.

“Get my fucking dogs back in the van,” she yells at the man I had just said hello to moments earlier. “She has two fuckin pitbulls in the car!”

It was 9 in the morning, and while I had been awake for a while and already gotten a morning workout in, it was taking me a while to process what was going on. So she knew this guy? And those were her dogs? But she’s in a different car? 

“I don’t care,” the man tells her. By this point he’s already gotten his dogs.. or her dogs out of his van, meanwhile my dogs were still in the car, as I was right outside of the passenger door, waiting to see if I should bring them out.

“Get my fucking dogs back in the van!” she yells.

“Why do I care if she has pitbulls?” he responds. “I have a fucking gun!”

At this point, she gets ape-shit upset crazy upset and fanatically screams at him with no self control.

“I don’t care if you have a fucking gun. Get my fucking dogs back in the van!! I don’t want them near fucking pitbulls!

It was like how I would imagine one of those popular teenage girls would yell at their squad when finding out that someone in their who they thought was their best friend/ side-kick (but really they were using them) stole their prom date and was nominated for prom Queen, when she wasn’t….

But this all happened within a span of a few minutes, and to be honest, I didn’t know how to respond to all of it so I pretty much pretended to ignore. They eventually left, but it left me a little sad: she didn’t know my dogs and she reacted based on whatever experience she had or whatever she had heard on the news.

In owning dogs that are a breed that has a bad rep, I’ve come to understand that there going to be people who have their fears and stigmas about the breed, and that’s completely fine. We chose to own our dogs knowing that this sentiment exists, but in owning them and deciding to love them, there is the even greater responsibility to defend them, and go above and beyond to ensure that they rise above whatever bad reputation they have.

I understand that people will react based on their impressions that are defined by past experiences, and what they def:  one time, husband and I were at one of those condo sales pitch, and the sales guy pointed me out and was like … you! You like to shop! Which, it’s true, but for some reason it bugged me because I’d like to think that there’s more to me than the fact that I like to shop.

I don’t think it’s necessarily a bad thing to develop first impressions, but I don’t think it should be the only thing that defines. Like if I were to only generalize the people at the park who went ape shit over my dog, my first thought about them would be… white trash, these guys are white trash.

Anyways, that is all for now. Hope everyone is having a great week.

Until next time 🙂

Entry 39: When a Lady Goes Ape Shit at a Park

Entry 38 : The Fear of Wrinkles

I don’t know when people generally start having mid-life crises’, but around a month before I turned 33, I started having this fear of getting wrinkles. It started with a conversation I had with a friend who casually mentioned her skin routines involving facial masks and exfoliating which led me to be filled with this feeling of oh shit. I am 33 years old and I haven’t moisturized daily, ever. Or exfoliated or done facial masks. I am going to wrinkle!

Since that initial freak out, I have found myself perusing the skincare aisles of every store (particularly Target) and stocking up on preventative wrinkle care.

I suppose there’s nothing wrong with taking precaution, but it has led me to think about why I find it so important to not age. Aging is inevitable, people are bound to wrinkle and develop puffy circles are their eyes and grey hairs. But why was it so important to me?

That is where it hit me : my self worth.

I am by no means a supermodel, but I’ve been called pretty and take pride staying in shape (or at least trying to) . But I suppose that is all I can see as being worth anything. I know it’s no use to mope around with that sort of mentality, and ultimately I have the power to change my life to make it something I’m proud of; it’s all in a matter of actually doing it.  While its really hard to break free of that when beneath those layers, there is that lack of self-confidence, I’m going to try to make it my resolution this year to snap myself out of that. … on top of fighting wrinkles.

Anyways, until next time.

 

Entry 38 : The Fear of Wrinkles

Entry 37 : What’s Your Story?

Have you ever been asked the question What’s your story?

My immediate reaction is always like : What do you mean what’s my story? I don’t really …have one. Whats YOUR story. Then based on their answer, I answer the question.

To be quite honest, I don’t think my life is all that exciting so I’m never quite sure how to answer. When you think of stories / movies, they usually consist of a plot – sometimes with twists, turns, and an apex to the plot  – and my life has none of that. Its just, ordinary. To me its awesome, but ordinary. I mean, I cleaned my spare bathroom yesterday. This happens once a week. And then after that I folded laundry.  And then I grilled hot dogs for dinner.

If you want to go into the depth of my character, well – some might find my interests boring. I like to read, get lost in Michaels, word puzzles and regular puzzles, and binge watching The Great British Baking Show. I got into a Games of Thrones debate with the produce guy at the grocery store the other day. I hear any sort of Game of Thrones reference and my ears just perk up. He was talking to the other produce guy about the battle scene from last season and I just joined in like  I know right!?!  That was friggin crazy!

Some people think my personality weird. In high school, when I first started dating my high school boyfriend, this girl asked him Why are you dating her? She’s weird. At the time, it kind of hurt my feelings, but then I was like, wait a minute – she’s right. I am kind of weird; not in the bad socially-awkward way, just in the- I used to humm while i brushed my teeth -kind of way (true story. i dont do it anymore though, i swear…. ) and some people find that weird. I used to hope that girl who called me weird was losing in life, but I’ve gotten over it and have come to embrace the “weirdness” as part of why I’m awesome

Back to my story. This makes me realize how grateful I am not to be dating, just so I don’t have to answer that question. The very thought gives me anxiety. I would probably be rejected by waves if I was like I like puzzles, but it’s something I would say because it’s true.

I’m glad my husband didn’t think I was too weird on our first date. After we ate, I started making a sculpture with tortilla chips and poured water over it, saying its called art, you wouldn’t understand. I’d like to think he was just like Yea, shes a little weird, but super hot so I’ll let it pass. 😊

Anyways, until next time….

Entry 37 : What’s Your Story?

Entry 35 : Social Media De-Compress

I haven’t been on social media as of late, not providing consistent updates on the happenings on my life,  including the fact that I am going to bed because I am tired, or shared a picture of a most recent zit on my nose, or notified you all on my most recent cravings for fortune cookies. Because well, my life is all that interesting and when I fail to “check in” to the bathroom of my home to notify you that I’m going to take a shit, that is cause for concern.

What happened was…. well, Lent happened, and for Lent I decided to give up Facebook, Instagram, Twitter, and Snapchat.

It was hard at first My constant impulse was to go on these social media forums and see what so-and-so was up to, and to let people know I had seen a squirrel, or share a picture of Europeans in speedos. So to prevent myself from going on successfully, I signed out of everything in order to create a roadblock for myself.

Well, everything except twitter, mainly because I never go on twitter and I forgot that I even had a twitter account when I was signing out of everything. I go on twitter an average of once or twice a year and have 1 follower (my husband).  A few days into lent, I received a notification on a witty Anna Kendrick tweet that she liked cake, or something to that effect and it made me laugh, because well… I too like cake.  So I ‘liked’ her tweet, and forgot all about it. A few hours later, my husband messaged me, asking me if I went had gone on social media that day.  I backtracked as best as I could, recounting the events of the day and replied with an adamant no.

Being my one twitter follower, he mentioned he had seen that I had ‘liked’ an Anna Kendrick tweet.

Me:  O_O Oh shit, yea I did. I forgot. But it was a funny tweet!

I got called out, but in truth, I never use twitter and had completely forgotten that I had been on it for that brief moment. I soon after signed out of my twitter account to prevent future logins by impulse.

Since then I have fasted from social media, going on only on Sundays, as Sundays don’t count in Lent. So if you’re like, What the Hell Winter! Didn’t you know that I was at Dairy Queen on Wednesday? I checked in on Facebook and tagged you because I know you like cookies and cream blasts! … or I told the world I was gay on Facebook last week, and you don’t know?!?  Sorry, I’ve been out of the loop. But to be honest, its been refreshing to not be so consumed by the need instantly let people know everything  I’m up to, which is usually something along the lines of going to Home Depot or grocery shopping, or helping to fix a toilet flush valve. Please, try not be envious.

Anyways… until next time.

 

 

 

Entry 35 : Social Media De-Compress

Entry 35 : Case of the Ex. 2

A couple of weeks ago, I wrote about insta-stalking an ex-boyfriend, and how I wished I could look at that time of my life, without feeling animosity.

Well, funny story – I ended up having this dream a few weeks ago that the ex-boyfriend was trying to get back together with me; he was remorseful over all the hurt and suffering he had caused me, and blah blah blah.

In my dream, I felt conflicted; I was getting what I thought I wanted (him groveling back to me), but it wasn’t at all satisfying. Like, I was happy and didn’t want to give up my life with my husband, who in my dream was played by my real husband. lol. Have you ever had those dreams where somebody is supposed to be someone to you… like a spouse, or a best friend, but it’s role played by someone else who is not that person in real life?

Anyways, even though I felt really confused in my dream, I woke up happy. If dreams are supposed to be a pathway into the psyche, what I think my psyche was telling me to get over it. I have to admit a small part of me wished that at some point in life, he would realize that he had fucked up on the best thing he had ever had and would pine away eating ice cream and getting fat, but to be honest – the dream made me realize that none of that even matters anymore. While getting my heart broken was not fun, I should look at it as a blessing, one that opened a pathway to a better me, an awesome life, and a studly spouse.

So there, no more holding grudges for something in the past.

Until next time…

Entry 35 : Case of the Ex. 2

Entry 34: Prepping for Desert Heat

I’ve been in the desert for about a year, and have been getting compliments on the tan that I’ve acquired.

What can I say? In being graced by sun majority of the year, my Filipino was bound to come out. I don’t know for sure if that’s why I don’t ever burn and just tan nicely, but it’s the only logical reason I can think of.

Not to say that I have never gotten sunburned ever

There was one time I burned really bad: Husband and I had gone to Hawaii and I got super dark because he gave me tanning oil, instead of sun-protection. I fell asleep under the sun and woke up 3 hours later so burnt, it hurt to shower for weeks. Even the locals’ eyes filled with pity as they saw me teetering around the shops in my burnt skin. That’s when you know it’s bad, when the locals feel bad for you.

I learned my lesson (tanning oil is not a replacement for SPF), and since then have not gotten sunburned, but I’m still not excited for the inevitable surge of heat during the coming months. As I’m writing this, my memory is getting flashbacks to last summer, when it got over 100 degrees and just walking a quarter of a mile became the longest walk ever.

It’s the kind of heat that makes it suck to even breathe, where even wearing nothing doesn’t help. Where the only thing that helps is sitting in an air-conditioned place and doing nothing but eating something cold, like icecream, or popsicles, or frozen grapes, with the tv on and the remote within reach.

If only every day I had an excuse for doing just that.

Until next time….

 

Entry 34: Prepping for Desert Heat

Entry 29: TV and A Newfound Obssession with UFC

I missed the Grammys last Sunday. It was a decision between Walking Dead and the Grammys, and I chose Walking Dead.

I’m wondering if there are others like me who find themselves in a dilemma when it comes to deciding what show to watch. It is a dilemma which, I have faced many times before: Do I watch Monday night football or… the presidential debate? Game of Thrones or …CNN covering a President’s speech?

Lately, my show of choice (when asked what I want to watch)  has been anything UFC. It’s a thing that has just recently perked my interest.  I think what fascinates me about it is the fact that two people in a fenced octagon arena made the conscious decision to get their asses whooped.

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Granted, they  do get paid, but it’s definitely something I wouldn’t be able to do, unless it was to save the world from an alien invasion.   Then it becomes the right thing to do and I’m all about doing the right thing.

To start with, where does all that anger come from? A past girlfriend who cheated ? Daddy abandonment issues? And how do you get punched in the face so many times without not wanting to just crawl in fetal position and think of happy thoughts like ice cream and sunshine to make pain will go away? Because that’s what I would do.

Besides that, I do not tolerate pain well. One time, I cut myself accidentally with a knife and was yelling bloody murder when my husband tried to wash the wound with water from the sink. So if I was put in the situation where I had to fight someone, I would tap out even before the fight began, or with one hit – I would purposely fall to the ground if the hit already didn’t put me there, and then tell myself to stay the fuck down. It’ll be over soon… I think.

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This brings up the issue of me not being able to defend myself. Thank goodness I’ve never been put in the situation where I’ve had to, but if someone were to start a physical fight with me, I don’t know how I’d be able to defend myself, if we were just relying on my non-existent combat skills.

What I need to learn are those pressure points that (when poked) completely render the opponent helpless. Haven’t you seen those movies where one person is getting beat up and all seems lost, until they touch their clavicle and then the enemy goes to sleep? Yea, that’s what I need to learn and then I’ll be all good.

Anyways, some television shows I’m digging now:

The Magicians on Netflix/Sci-FI – It’s like Harry Potter goes to college

Taboo – Half the time I don’t know what’s going on and when Tom Hardy speaks, its mostly of him grunting, but Tom Hardy is fine as shit and walks around with no pants or no shirt (not both), so you know.

Walking Dead – Part II of the season premiered last week. It was kind of slow, but I’m interested in seeing what happens.

Legion – This is supposed to be Xmen related. The first episode grabbed me, but I have to keep watching to formulate a good opinion

Humans – Are they human, or are they not? I don’t get why it’s not obvious to the humans in the show that the ones who have overly green animated eyes are not human.

Anyways, that’s it for now. I know, it’s a lot of tv. Maybe it’s indicative that I need a life? I don’t know

Until next time…

Entry 29: TV and A Newfound Obssession with UFC