Thursday, January 29, 2015

It's not so bad...

It's seems to me that every hour of every day, we are hearing of how heartless and uncaring society has gotten. In fact, there are entire television channels dedicated to 24/7 reporting of all the bad that is going on all over the world.

But I want to share with you, some of my recent observations.

We have a levels system at my work, to reward kids for good behavior. Once the kids get to a certain level, they get to pick a special food once a week as a reward. Last week, they all voted that they wanted burgers from McDonald's.

I left the premises and drove to a nearby McDonald's. As I pulled into the driveway, I saw two small children hurry over to a truck in the parking lot. A heavy set man with his leg in a splint and walking with a walker, followed slowly behind them.

As he got half way through the driveway, I watched him lose his balance and fall on the ground. I quickly realized he was struggling and didn't have the strength to pull himself back up. The two small children tried desperately to pull on his arms to help him up, but none of them were having any success.

I stepped out of my car to go help him, and as I approached, I was just one of a swarm of people that rushed to his side. It only took me, and a well dressed business looking man, to help him up. I grabbed one arm and the business man grabbed the other, I counted to 3, then we lifted and the man came to a stand.

As he thanked us profusely, I looked around and saw the large crowd of people that surrounded. People had run over from the other side of the busy street, people had gotten out of their cars in the parking lot, and people had come running out of the McDonald's lobby. All had hurried to his side, hoping they could do something to help him.

 I was left inspired and uplifted by the sight. No one had ignored him, no one laughed at him, and everyone who had witnessed it seemed to care. I was left thinking, Wow, there are still some good people left in the world. 

 It reminded me of this past year, when I had many times metaphorically fallen down. Each time, there were people there wanting to help me up.



At the beginning of 2014 I was involved in 3 separate and major incidents in about a months span, from February to March. Each were very traumatic, and left me feeling rattled to my very core. I tried my best to shake it off, and make myself believe I wasn't effected by what had happened.

By the end of March, I was still feeling very "off" but couldn't pinpoint what was the problem. Many months later I found through talk therapy that the problem was me going through a very normal process of coping with what had happened early in the year. But in the beginning, I did not correlate my exhaustion, lack of joy and excitement, and loss of interest and motivation, to be related to my earlier experiences.

In the beginning, I spoke to my general practitioner about my struggle, and he thought it sounded like I was depressed and he prescribed me some anti depressants. The drugs were great! I bounced back. Life was enjoyable again, I felt motivated and interested in tasks again, and was having a heck of an adventure every day of life.

But there was one very pricey side effect. A side effect I am still paying for to this day...literally.

I loss all self control. I became impulsive. It was a logic of, "I thought it, therefore I did it." I would get an idea in my head, get overly excited about it, then would make it happen without thinking of the consequences. I wanted this merchandise, therefore I opened up a line of credit and got it. I wanted to go see this place, therefore I got in my car and drove there. I wanted a dog, therefore I went and picked one out, without taking into consideration how expensive caring for animals can be. Never did I stop to think if I could really afford it, or what important things (like school or work) I would miss if I left town, I just did stuff with out ever thinking.

I have to admit, it was extremely fun. I had a blast while it lasted. But the long term consequences were so not worth it!

My actions did not begin to catch up to me until early June. I was driving though Kentucky, on my way home from an excursion across the entire east coast, when my car engine began to struggle. I looked down and realized my gas tank was empty. I was relieved when I looked out and saw a gas station right by me. I pulled up and swiped my debit card, and was shocked to discover my card was declined. I swiped it a couple more times, standing there in denial.

Remember how I said I opened lines of credit when I wanted something? Well the payments had begun with me totally forgetting about them. My checking account was empty and I was still over 500 miles from home.

This was the beginning of my trouble, and the beginning of me seeing just how much beauty still exists in humanity.

I was stranded. I made a remark on facebook, that I was about to get my first experience panhandling for gas money to get home. I was so scared, but I tried to make a joke out of it all. I went to sleep in my car praying that a miracle would occur when I woke up. Sure enough, it did. A relative that I have not seen in years, sent me a message to give them a call, because they had wired money to the gas station I was at, to help me get home.

I would like to say that was the end of it, but that was only the tip of the iceberg. Soon, money was being demanded from everywhere. I had to begin working 80 hour weeks just to be able to pay rent. Cable got shut off, electric got threatened, my bed was nearly repossessed, and I had no money for food or clothes. I was working more hours than anyone should ever have to, and seeing no end to it, and getting no reward. I worked like crazy and never had any money. I had to eat the food staff was given at work, and sell my blood plasma to have enough money to fill my gas tank and feed my dog.

This was when I heard about the Tulsa Dream Center. I had no work pants, because they were all ripped and stained and worn out. I found out the Dream Center gave free clothes out to the community, no questions asked. I felt ashamed as I walked in, thinking, "I'm stealing from poor people" but then remembered, "oh wait, I am poor."

They were so warm and welcoming. They prayed with me, listened to me vent about my recent financial woes, connected me to their free grocery program, and walked me in to their clothes closet. It was so ironic when I found some old clothing that I had donated in the past. I said to myself, "Wow, the giver has become the receiver."

My paycheck looked like I must be rich. I made tons of money. But because of all I had done in the months before, I had nothing now. I thought for sure there was no help for me because I made too much money. Soon I found lots of caring people who understood my situation and didn't judge me by my mistakes. I was networked to organizations that could help support me even though I didn't fit the mold of a needy person.

I was directed to an organization that helped me find affordable therapy, which was able to help me deal with what was the real problem, and slowly wean me off the anti depressants that had messed me up so bad.

And it wasn't just organizations that helped me. Every time I had an important need that I couldn't afford, someone stepped in to cover the cost. Every time I thought I was going to have to miss a meal, a friend or co-worker offered to take me out to eat as their treat without me even mentioning I was about to go hungry.
My car once ran out of gas on my way to work. I only had $2 and buying a gas can alone cost more than that. Not to mention I would then have no money for gas. When the gas station clerk said they could not lend me a can, a person in line offered theirs.  They drove me back to my car, and helped me get it started. Then they surprised me by saying they wanted to fill my gas tank for me.

As school began again, I realized the wisest thing to do was to move back into the dorms. That way I would not be struggling so much to pay rent. But I was faced with a dilemma... my dog... my sweet, snuggle, hyper, obnoxious, intuitive, protective, best friend Lily. If I moved back into the dorms, I would have to give her up, and the thought of doing that crushed me.

I moved into the dorms, but out of desperation in wanting to keep the dog, I kept the apartment just for her sake, until the lease was up in November. I kept working 80hr weeks, trying to pay rent and bills on top of going to school and by the time the lease was up, I knew there was no way I could keep working that much and keep my grades up. My grades were plummeting.

That's when another beautiful thing happened. People stepped up to take care of Lily for me until I could take her back. One person kept her for two months until their living situation changed and they couldn't anymore. Then another person stepped up to take her for two weeks until their living situation abruptly changed, and then a third person stepped up to take her in. All complete strangers at first, who I am so very thankful for. People who didn't know me, didn't know Lily, and had no obligation to help, but offered to take her in for a few months so that I would not have to give her up forever.

Another beautiful act of humanity, was my teachers. When I told them the struggles I was having, and the hours I was having to work, they all had grace on me. You know, grace is such an amazing thing. Thinking you are doomed, when someone gives grace and changes the entire experience. The teachers pushed back deadlines for me, gave me more time on things that had passed, and created extra credit opportunities for me to make up for things I had already missed or failed.

You never know how much you have, until you have nothing left to give.
Family, friends, teachers, co-workers, and complete strangers all stepped in to help me up, each time something knocked me down.

Humanity is wonderful.

Saturday, January 24, 2015

Waiting Game

Something that has always been very funny to me is elevator etiquette. Everywhere else in the American culture says to smile at people, make eye contact, acknowledge people, and just generally try to be friendly and try to make others feel comfortable. That's the rule in every situation except in elevator etiquette. In the elevator it is the complete opposite. You are to remain silent, stay as far away from other people, and do everything in your power to avoid eye contact while all of you in the elevator feel as uncomfortable as possible in each others presence.

Yesterday I was waiting to get on the elevator and found something just as funny to me as elevator etiquette. It's the waiting game. Have you ever watched someone who is waiting for something? The behavior would be considered insane in any other circumstance.

At my job, we are trained to recognize the warning signs that a person is escalating in emotions and needs intervention. They may start pacing, swaying, huffing, mumbling, and seem irritable. They may clench their fists, or have a change in posture, become unusually quiet, or do something repeatedly like looking at their watch. These are the same exact things people do when playing the waiting game!

As I stood there waiting for the elevator to come, I laughed to the person next to me, "Gotta love the waiting game".

He laughed and agreed, "It's America's favorite past-time."

"Not!" I jokingly shouted.

The truth is that patience is a virtue, a virtue foreign to American culture. Americans HATE waiting for anything. Even waiting in line for fast food, you can spot at least a few people showing the same behaviors as someone about to have an emotional outburst.

In that aspect, I am very American. I'm probably one of the worst. I hate, hate, HATE the waiting game. When I want something to happen, I want it to happen now.

The waiting game is a big part of my life right now though. Recently I decided to take the next step with my writing, and am trying to get a book published. It's been a week now since I started submitting my work to agencies, and the waiting and anticipating to hear back from them has been torture.

But just as the waiting game for the elevator, I know the next step after the waiting is over, is stepping in to elevator etiquette. It will be unusual, out of character, and uncomfortable. Once I find someone who believes in my writing potential as much as I do, the waiting game will be over and the correction, criticism, and hard work will begin. But once it is all over, the elevator door will open, and I will have reached my destination to a higher and better place in my dream.

But for now, I have to just sit back and try to enjoy my favorite game....... the waiting game.





I'll try not to look like a lunatic.

Friday, December 5, 2014

America's Best Kept Scenic Secret

We met in the fall, and by spring we were quickly becoming best friends. We road tripped for Spring Break, and in the beginning of May, school was ending and adventure was calling us out on the road again. Dawn came to Tulsa, Oklahoma from the nation of Burma when she was 8. She didn't do much travel outside the city after that, until she met me in her junior year of college.

Travel is a big part of who I am. I have a deep desire to discover new things. Whether it be across the world, or down the street. So when Dawn told me she wanted to start traveling more places, that's exactly what I made happen.

In this piece I want to share my most favorite place in America. It is a state I knew nothing about until I went, and left feeling every person in the world should see it's breath taking beauty at least once in their life.



We planned to celebrate the beginning of summer break by driving to the Florida coast. However our route took us through Alabama which was having a horrible spell of tornadoes, and then the news broke that a hurricane like storm was nearing Florida.

So when the day came that we were supposed to hit the road, we got in the car with no idea where we would end up. All we knew was that it sounded like the northeast was the best direction  weather wise.

Half way through Kentucky, while we were stopped for a restroom break, I looked at a map and spotted the state of West Virginia. I thought to myself, "I have never heard anything about West Virginia. What on earth is in West Virgina. I've never met anyone who said they were from West Virgina. Hey Dawn, do you know anything about West Virgina?"

Dawn didn't know anything. I didn't know anything. Was it flat, mountainous, crowded, deserted, hipster, or redneck; we had no idea. So we decided to drive there and find out.

We stopped for the night at a hotel right at the Kentucky/West Virgina border.

After a restful night and a hearty Kentucky breakfast, we checked out of the hotel and I told the woman at the front desk that we were on our way to a spur of the moment trip to West Virginia, and asked if she had any recommendations for things we should do or see.

She said that the most memorable thing she had seen in West Virginia was the New River Gorge Bridge. For many years it was the world's longest steel single-span arch bridge; it is now the fourth longest.

She said it was about an hour away, but we ended up on a wild goose chase driving all around the state looking for it, and we enjoyed every minute of it. We were surrounded by beauty every where we looked.

We had my dog Lily to thank for the first find. She needed to go potty, so we decided to get out of the car and walk a hiking trail. She ran ahead of us and led us to a look out. As we stepped out of the trees into a clearing, Lily was sitting looking intently at something. I turned to try to see what she was staring at, and my jaw dropped. As Dawn and I stood there, we legitimately began to ask each other if maybe we missed a sharp turn earlier and died. We thought we must be in Heaven. There was no way something on earth was this amazing.





A few minutes earlier we had been driving through a valley, and Dawn looked up at the hills and said she hoped someday she could stand on top of a hill that big and just scream at the top of her lungs in a sort of "The hills are alive" fashion. I reminded her of what she had said in the car, so we got video of her making her wish come true:


video


I tried to be cool in saying something deep while in this heavenly place, but ended up sounding like a total dork:

video



And to think we would have missed that unforgettable treasure if it hadn't been for my dog. Way to go Lily!








Here are some more shots from our trip:



  







































































As I said in the beginning of this piece, I feel West Virginia is a place every person should visit at least once in their life. I've been to a lot of places in the world, and WV may very well be the most beautiful of them all in my opinion.

Are you interested in visiting? Everywhere we drove around the state, we saw adorable vacation cabins for rent. I recommend looking in to that. In fact, that's exactly what I hope to do as soon as the holidays pass.

Here's a link with some great recommendations on things to do and see in WV: Click Here

Thursday, December 4, 2014

Tasty Treasure in Small Town America

202 W John St (River Side of Courthouse), Van Buren, Missouri


If you are ever in Missouri, I want to share a tasteful treasure with you. It's called "The Mercantile Restaurant".

When you explore as much as I do, you find great accidental scores. This one was blog worthy.

Me and my legit Kentucky Fried Chicken



I and two friends, Cristina and Dawn, were driving home from spring break. We had spent the week in Nashville, and I insisted we to drive up to the Kentucky border to eat fried chicken just for bragging rights of having real KFC.



We enjoyed the experience and soon went on our way back home. The sun had set and we were still driving through Missouri when we all agreed we were very hungry.

At the nearest exit we pulled off the highway, and my gps showed there was a BBQ joint near by. We took a few wrong turns, and while trying to get back on the right road, we found the Mercantile.

We parked and circled around the building trying to peer in the window to see if it was open or not. The lights were on but we didn't see many people inside, and none of us could see business hours posted.

A few moments later a man leaving the restaurant came out and held the door open for us. I was the first to poke my head in the door and greeted the smiling waitress, "We weren't sure if y'all were still open or not."

The woman waved us in and laughed, "We are open as late as there are hungry people!"
It is even written on their facebook page, "Our closing time is a "suggested" time as we serve until there are no more customers."

Cristina and I
  
The restaurant decor is such that it gives off a "tight knit small town community" vibe.

The different staff came out to talk to us at various times seeming to take genuine interest in us visitors, and asking questions about our travels and where we were from.

One waitress asked if we had gotten lost once we told her we were headed to Tulsa from Nashville. She got a good laugh when my two traveling partners pointed at me and said, "She made us go to Kentucky for chicken."

We felt very welcome and comfortable there, and had some great conversation with the staff.

There was a small salad bar with a surprisingly wide variety of choices. And it was all so yummy. I thought it was probably just because I was so hungry.

Shrimp Fettuccine Alfredo
We were all rather chatty until the main dishes came out. Then our table went silent for several minutes. Each one of us was so lost in the deliciousness of our meals. When one of us finally spoke, all any of us could say was, "Wow!"

I was so full by the end of the meal, and had leftovers too. And the only way I could describe my meal was, "I think that's the best food I've ever had.

When we went to the cash register, another shocking surprise came. It was very inexpensive. Hot chocolate, salad bar, shrimp fettuccine Alfredo, and a bread stick, came to a total cost under the price of what I expected the salad bar to be.  And all with excellent service.

As we drove away that night, all three of us road trippers agreed, even though it was over a 4 hour drive from home, we had to bring others here some time. It was a little piece of heaven.

The leftovers stayed in my fridge for 3 days, and I thought for sure it wouldn't be as good as I remembered. I had told myself that it only tasted amazing, the way all food tastes amazing when one is very hungry. But after I heated it up in the microwave,  for a third time the restaurant surprised me. It tasted even better than I remembered. 


Dawn
About 3 months later, Dawn and were driving back home from a trip to West Virginia, and we both wanted to go back to the restaurant we had such fond memory of. This time we arrived in daylight and found that the food was just as amazing as last time, and the town of Van Buren was surrounded by breathtaking beauty.

And the coolest part, the staff remembered us! And asked even more questions seeming so interested in our travels around the country.

If you decide to visit the Mercantile, I recommend coming in the daylight so you can see the whole beautiful area. Here are a few shots of Van Buren:




























UPDATE: There's been a lot of visitors to this blog from Missouri since I posted this piece.
Have you been to Van Buren? Have you been to the Mercantile? Please comment sharing your thoughts, and where you are from!

Wednesday, December 3, 2014

Dealing with a Destructive Dog

Brown eyes, big ears, a long tongue, a black nose, and a look of pleading, "Will you please love me?" That's what I saw when I first met her. She was found dumped at a local university. She had scars on her neck and stomach telling that she had lived a hard life. She was underweight, you could feel her spine when you touched her back.
I had walked around and seen most of them, the homeless animals that crowded the city pound, and I knew she was the one for me. It would be my first time living on my own, and I knew I needed a companion. She stood out to me as the answer.
That day, the nameless stray dubbed "Ariel" became Lily Cannard. But as I drove her to her new home, I had no idea what I was in for.

Lily going home for the first time


Have you ever adopted a rescued dog? Have you found just how awful separation anxiety can be with your furry friend? Does your pet destroy everything in sight? Well you are not alone.

I thought I was the only one. That I had adopted this dog that had something seriously wrong. But I soon learned that she had a problem very common among abandoned pets. She had separation anxiety, and it caused her to be very destructive.
It was a very long, and expensive journey to learning how to deal with her behavior. Lots of people would have given up, taken her back to the pound, or sent her somewhere else. But for all the trouble she created, she was still a big help to me. She went on long cross-country road trips with me, helped me feel safe when I slept at night, she warned me when I was crossing paths with a dangerous snake, gave me a warm body to hug and feel comforted when I ran out of money and got stranded 500 miles from home, she scared off a man sneaking up behind me, and alerted me once when I was being followed.

If you feel like giving up on your destructive dog, keep in mind that there is a lot of good, that in time will out weigh the bad. Lily is still a work in progress, but I hope to offer a little advice to others going through the same struggle.

The Chronicles of Lily


This was our first night in the apartment. I hadn't unpacked hardly anything, so there was nothing for her to destroy, yet she managed to find something. I assured myself that she had done it because I didn't leave any toys out for her so she was bored.

The next mishap was a surprise to me. She had been peacefully sleeping next to me when I dozed off to sleep.When I woke up, she had ripped up this cushion.

The next day I was folding laundry in the other room and when I came out to check on her, I found this mess.

I had cleaned up the mess from her half way destroying the cushion, then let her have it as a resting spot. I thought if she had a comfortable place to rest, then she wouldn't be as prone to destroying things. Later on I laid down on my bed talking on the phone. I could tell she was jealous that I was not giving my full attention to her, but I just pushed her off of me when she got up in my face to try and grab my focus. She then started anxiously pacing around the whole apartment, and finally got quiet. When I got off the phone I found out why. She had brought a roll of toilet paper from the bathroom, and a tennis ball from the living room, and destroyed them both right at my feet.

After that I started seeking advice on what to do with her, and someone told me to get a crate to keep her in when I couldn't keep an eye on her. I did that, but felt so bad about keeping her cooped up. So one night when I went to pick up a friend, and rationed I'd only be gone for a few minutes, I left her out. I came back home 15 minutes later, to this:
She had destroyed my blinds, and a gift I was planning on giving to a friend.

I was working diligently to get her behavior under control. I would yell "No!" when she went for something she's not allowed to have, then I would put something she was allowed to chew in her mouth and pet her and say "Yes." I made sure she had lots of exercise, and lots of bones.
After a few weeks, she had stopped destroying things while I was present, and was getting better at recognizing what was bad and what was good to chew on. I began letting her out of her crate for short amounts of time unsupervised, and she was doing good at only chewing things that I had shown her were ok.

Then I worked a double for the first time since adopting her. I felt horrible for keeping her in her crate for 16 hours, with only getting let out on my 2 30 minute breaks. So on my 2nd break, I decided to test her training and see if she could go 3 hours without destroying things.

This was a huge mistake on my part, first because I didn't leave adequate things to keep her occupied, but also because she had way too much energy from being cooped up all day, to expect her to be on her best behavior.

And boy did I pay for it!























































10 Helpful Tips I Learned The Hard Way

That was the last major fiasco with Lily. But that's mostly because I learned how to deal with her. She is still very much a work in progress and is no where near where I'd like, which is to leave her out of her crate all day without any problems. But what I have learned has cut costs and stress in half, so I will share with anyone needing help.

1. A tired dog is a good dog.This can't be said enough. Any creature is less likely to get into mischievous if they are worn out. They will be less attention seeking, and won't be as hyper. Being hyper causes one to find something to do. Finding something to do can mean finding something bad to do.

2. Find a dog park. Not all cities are lucky enough to have a dog park, but finding a place for your dog to play with other dogs will be good both for exercise and reducing anxiety.

3. Bones, bones, and more bones! This helps with training the dog what is good to chew on, and makes them less likely to chew on other things. It keeps them distracted too.

4. Doggy Daycare. If you are going to be gone all day, chances are you will be too tired to take the dog out for adequate exercise when you get home. On top of getting hyper, your pet can get lonely which is not good for an animal with separation anxiety. If our pets see us leaving them alone all day then ignoring them by going asleep when we get home, they will have a high anxiety level and very likely to get destructive. Where as, if we send them to play with other dogs all day, they will be worn out when they get home, and only be aware that they had a fun day, verses us being gone all day. Doggy daycare isn't generally too expensive. I use a great one where Lily comes home completely pooped from playing all day long and it's only $16 for the entire day, from 7am to 8pm.

5. Get a crate. I felt like a horrible mommy when I first started using it, but found out it can actually be very therapeutic for a dog with anxiety. AND it will save you a lot of money from letting your dog be free to roam and destroy your belongings. When I began using a crate, I would offer Lily a treat and say, "Go to bed" then put the treat in the crate. When she would start to get very rowdy or anxious, I would make her "go to bed" and being in the crate would actually calm her. After a couple months she started going into her crate without me telling her to, and I would give her a treat as a reward and lock her in for a few minutes. Now she takes self time outs, and goes into her crate when she's getting too worked up.

6. Leave and come back. I came up with this idea and tried it out. It worked tremendously well. Times that I was home all day, I would through out the day step outside for a few minutes and then come back in to show her that I would always come back when I left. The first couple days I did this she would whine at the door in a panicked way and then start finding things to mess up. She never barked, just whined like she was hurt that I left her. After a few days she stopped looking for something to chew up when I left. Then a week or two later she stopped whining when I left. She understood that I was leaving her, but not leaving forever.

7. Have a full stomach. When I first got Lily, I would feed her at certain times twice a day. I had heard the tip to leave food out for the dog to eat through out the day, but it seemed she was a bottomless pit and I imagined she would eat an entire bag in a day if allowed to. But after a couple months I tried this and found she was way less tempted to chew on things if she had a full stomach. The first day she ate way too much, but after that she slowed dramatically down in her consumption and began eating the same amount through out the day that I had been feeding her before at only certain times. A dog expert told me that not having food easily accessed can raise anxiety from remembering a time when they didn't know how or where they would get to eat next prior to their rescue.

8. Take a training class. Lots of places have free training classes for pets adopted from the pound. It can help a lot just to get the basics down of what your dog needs to know. Trainers can also give you good advice on your specific problem with the pet.

9. Give them something that smells like you. Doing this will create a sense of you still being there. Lily always whined at first when I put her in the crate and left. I've heard I was lucky that she only whined, because lots of dogs get very loud. Either way, putting something that smells like you can reduce their stress and has worked to stop louder dogs from barking so much.

10. Remember they are worth it. There were times when I asked Lily, "Why did I ever get you?!" but there have been so many great moments that have made up for all the struggles. Your mischievous mess will become your best friend.



Those are the few things I have learned in my time with my pretty pooch. If you have any more tips please share in the comments.



Tuesday, December 2, 2014

Neighbor of a Nightmare


In May of this year I got my first apartment.
First order of business was going out and adopting a dog from the local city pound. I got a 1 year old lab and named her Lily.

I moved into a cute, quiet first floor complex and was very pleased. April through July I did a whole bunch of traveling, so I wasn't home much, but had no problem with the place while I was there.

One day I was drinking coffee and sitting out on my on my patio with Lily, when an elderly lady approached and asked if she could pet my dog.

Soon we began talking. She lived in the apartment next to mine, and her door is the first thing I would see when I open my front door. She told me that she has an aggressive guard dog that she worries about attacking anyone who comes in to her apartment. She made mention of the "Beware of Dog" sign that I had up on my front door. I told her Lily was not aggressive at all, and that the sign was more for my peace of mind that anyone who may want to mess with me, might think twice if they see there's a dog inside.

The conversation ended and she walked away, and I thought, "What a sweet little lady."

A few days later I was leaving, and she stopped me in the walk way. She said she had a specialist doctor who was helping her manage her chronic pain. She said her SSI check was late, so she had no money to get gas to go to her doctor appointment. I gladly reached into my wallet and handed her $5.

The next morning I woke up and found a folded up note left at my door. It said she had reached her final straw and kicked her husband out and was seeing an attorney to file for divorce, but that she couldn't afford to keep living there with out her husband's pension money. She asked if she could come live with me.

I was headed out of town for two weeks, and I quickly brushed off the idea thinking that no matter how nice I am, there's no way I am letting a stranger live with me(aside from the fact that there was zero room for her.)

When I came home later that month, I saw her husband was back with her, and I was glad things had worked out for her.

The next time I saw her, she asked me where I went to church. She said she didn't always have a ride to her church and asked if she could carpool with me some time. The conversation was nice, and I told her my regular Sunday schedule, and said I'd be happy to bring her to my church or take her to her church since it was close to mine.

She asked me about where I worked, and I told her I work at a facility for traumatized and misbehaved youth. When I told her the name, she told me she knew it. She said that 10 years ago God healed her of schizophrenia, and before that she saw a psychiatrist at my company. She then went on a long and disturbing rant about how psychology is a tool of the devil to destroy families, and that all psychologists are demon possessed.

By the end of the conversation I was thinking the woman was not quite as sweet as my first impression of her.

Later that day I was giving some things to some friends of mine. They (a female couple with a son) came to my place to pick it up. She must have heard the noise, and she opened her door and stood there watching our commotion. She said hello to their son, then waved me closer and whispered in my ear, "Is that one of them lesbian couples?"

 I pretended I didn't hear her, "What was that? Sorry I didn't hear you. Oh hey let me help you lift that!" then went to help my friends load the stuff in their car.

Just as soon as they shut their car doors and began to drive away, she came out to the parking lot and screamed while shaking her fist, "Filthy spawn of satan! It's your kind that is destroying this world!"

I don't know if they heard her or not, but I was extremely embarrassed and insulted that she would be so hateful towards my friends. Any kind thoughts I had towards the woman went away in that moment.

It wasn't long after that, that the letters started coming.
First it was every other week or so between a letter, then once a week, then a few times a week.

At first they asked for money for this or that. The most she ever asked for was $800. Other times she asked for rides places. Other times she asked me to bring Lily for a playdate with her dog(the one she previously said was aggressive.)

I ignored them all because I was upset about what happened with my friends.
But after a while I decided I wasn't being very Christian, and I needed to try to be more helpful to her.
So the next few times she wrote me letters I went and knocked on her door and offered her advice on what to do, since I was just as broke as her and had no way to help her but knew organizations and government programs that could help.

Then I went out of town for a few days, and came home to several letters from her.

Over the next few days I got multiple letters from her a day. She would come knock on my door at all hours of the night asking to use my phone, or wanting to complain about something she saw on the news.
The letters started getting way weirder too. Asking me if I would go on a date with her 60 year old mental disabled son, asking me to come sleep on the floor by her bed to make sure she didn't stop breathing in the night, asking me to let my dog play with hers so her dog could learn to stop attacking other dogs, and asking me if I could get my pastor to come bless her home because the demons keep getting in even though her pastor had already blessed it. She thought her pastor's blessing didn't work because he had been divorced in the past.
With in a 3 week span I had piles of letters from her.

I  finally took to facebook for advice on what to do, and got a large response with everyone saying it needed to be reported somewhere.

The next day I awoke to this disturbing letter.

I went and knocked on her door.

She answered and her dog stuck its head out the door. She tried to push it back with her foot, and the dog viciously bit her leg.
She told me her husband had left her, and she felt a stroke was coming on.

I insisted on taking her to the hospital, or calling for help, but she adamantly refused, and asked me just to check on her now and then, and maybe bring her some food because she was going to run out of anything to eat in a few days.

That day, with deep hesitation, I called Adult Protective Services and told them everything that was happening.

A few days later an APS worker showed up looking for the woman, and I pointed them in the right direction. Later that day the paramedics showed up, and I saw the APS worker following the elderly lady as she was taken out of her apartment on a stretcher.
I felt then that I had done the right thing in calling APS.

I went out of town again for a week, and sure enough, when I returned she was back and there were more letters. That night she knocked on my door a few times per hour wanting to talk about random things. I stopped answering her knocks at 11pm, and she kept coming back and knocking until 3am.

The next day I went to my landlord and complained. I was fed up. She was harrassing me with piles of letters and knocking on my door all night, she had insulted my friends, and she refused any help I could offer her. I was losing my peace of mind over her.

When I finished telling the landlord all she had been doing, the landlord's jaw was dropped. She had never heard anything like it in her 23 years of managing apartments. She said she would have to get back to me on what she would do, because she needed to get advice from others higher up and more experienced than her.

The next day my landlord contacted me and said the woman legally had to be given a verbal warning to stop with the letters, and that if it didn't work she would be given written notice that if she continued it was grounds for eviction, and she would be evicted if there was a third infraction.

This is when things started getting ugly.

A day came where I was going out to my car to get something, the woman was standing out by her door and saw my dog bolted out the door. I tried to grab her collar, and yelled, "Lily no!" but she was hyper and raced out to run around the area. I chased after her and finally got her and dragged her back to the apartment.
The woman was still standing there when I came back, and she started screaming at me about how she was going to report me to the police for not following leash laws, and that my dog needs to be put down because she is going to hurt someone.
The next day this was on the door:

Then a few days later the police showed up at my door. They said they had received a noise complaint that my dog barks non stop all day and all through the night and that it is causing an elderly neighbor with insomnia to get sick, and that the elderly person has had to be hospitalized in the past just to get away from the barking.

I told them it was just an angry neighbor trying to get back at me for complaining to the landlord, and I told them the truth, that my dog rarely barks. Luckily for me, my upstairs neighbor was coming down the stairs just then and backed me up that he never hears my dog bark.

The police handed me a warning citation, saying that if another person complained about the barking within the next 90 days, then I would be fined $100.

Right near this time, for unrelated reasons, I had decided to move back into the ORU dorms. Soon I sent Lily to stay with a friend, and moved all my stuff out of the apartment.

I had one last night in the apartment. I had, had a very difficult day at work and came by the apartment just to do final cleaning after work. It was close to 1am, when there was a knock on the door.

I looked out my peephole and it was her again.

I let out an annoyed sigh, then decided I could deal with her this one last night. As soon as the door opened, her finger was pointed right in my face, yelling at me. She said her grandson had been sent to my work, and how dare I do this and that to her precious grandbaby.

I was too tired and already frustrated by my bad day, so I couldn't put on my "Sweet Anna" face that night.

I responded in the same tone she was using and said, "I don't really care!" and shut the door in her face.

And thus ended the saga of the crazy neighbor.

How about you? Have a crazy neighbor story?

Thursday, November 20, 2014

Hilarious dog cough



This past year I've done a lot of traveling around the United States. In mid May I was trying to see all of the states I had never been to before. Alabama was my next target. I had 3 free days, so I did it.

I had started a goal of going to the highest elevation in each state. Alabama's was Mt Cheaha.

After I reached it, I thought of an old family friend who lived in nearby Georgia. It was almost 10 years to the date of the last time I had seen her. I sent her a message and the next day I was at her house. It was such a fun reunion.

While I was there I went to Waffle House for the first time.

Our dogs had a funny time interacting with each other. It was probably the highlight of the trip.
Carol's dog Snowflake would get jealous anytime my dog Lily got attention. So we would call Lily over and Snowflake would try to growl to look tough, but ended up choking every time

Wednesday, November 19, 2014

The Time I ALMOST Got Arrested in a Foreign Land

At first I didn't tell a single person this story because it was too upsetting to think about. But in time I began opening up more, and discovered people laughed like crazy when I told the story. So now that I have had time to process and heal from the frightening ordeal, I will share the entire story.


10pm April 21. I was sitting at work completing paperwork, thinking about all my recent adventures traveling all around to various states spur of the moment. I had the next 4 days with no work and no school and my co-worker asked, "So you gonna go on another road trip?"

I looked at her with a light bulb going on in my head. "I should!"

I mulled it over for a few minutes and then thought, "Wisconsin. I have never been to Wisconsin. I can get to Wisconsin and back in 4 days!"

Two hours later I was on the road headed North. I drove through a few states I had never been to; Iowa, Minnesota, and Wisconsin. In my hurry to pack and hit the road, the thought had briefly crossed my mind to grab my passport in case I had time to visit Canada.

I stopped at a maple syrup stand in Minnesota and got jar from "Grandpa Ben". He pointed to his property in the near horizon and said that he got the syrup from his trees just the day before. 

Once I hit Wisconsin I drove around for a bit to enjoy the scenery, ate some famous Wisconsin cheese, and then decided I most definitely wanted to go to Canada while I was in the area.

It was another several hours drive, but I made it to the Canadian border and was very excited to be visiting somewhere new. There was a highway from Minnesota that went around Lake Superior and connected back in USA in Wisconsin. I decided I wanted to drive down the highway to see all the scenic attractions the great lake had to offer.

Getting to the border was interesting, as it was heavily wooded, deer were jumping out into the road every few minutes and would scare me and make me drive crazy each time. 

But things got way more interesting once I reached the border.
I saw the sign, "Welcome to Canada". I thought about stopping to take a picture, but it wasn't the best stretch of road for stopping, and I figured I'd have another opportunity somewhere down the road.

I got to the gate and came to the stop where I was greeted first in French then in English.

I had a big smile, feeling so excited, when the gaurd asked me the nature of my visit.

I answered honestly. I said I was sightseeing.
He asked where I was sight seeing.
Again I answered honestly. "I took a road trip to Wisconsin, and wanted to drive around Highway 11 to see all of Lake Superior, while I am in the area."

It was getting near sunset and he looked at me with suspicion. "The sun is going down. How are you going to sight see at night?"

"Well I was thinking I would stop at a hotel in Thunderbay for the night." Thunder Bay is about 45 minutes past the border.
"What hotel are you staying at?"

I was a little dumb founded. "I don't have one yet. I was thinking I would find one once I got there."

"And how long are you planning on staying in Thunder Bay?"

"Just for the night. I'm going to continue on Highway 11 in the morning and see the whole lake before I head home."

"Do you have family or anyone who knows you in Thunder Bay?"

"No?" My excited smile was now crooked with confusion. I had already told him this was a fairly unplanned sight seeing trip.

"Would you please pull your car around and come inside?"

I was still fairly convinced nothing was wrong and this was all routine, but I was starting to feel a little nervous as I parked my car. Two men were waiting by my door as soon as I got out of my car.

One stuck out his hand, "We need to search your car. Keys please."

Before I was ushered inside, the other man asked, "That's a pretty bad dent in the front of the car. Did you hit something on your way here?"

"No, the car already had the damage when I bought it about a year ago."

I was walked into a lobby area, where the man who I originally talked to started asking me a list of questions. "Now you said you were here to visit a friend right?"

"No, I don't know anyone here. I wanted to sight see around Lake Superior."

"Oh that's right. And you are going to go camping?"

"No, I am gonna stay one night at a hotel in Thunder Bay, then go home tomorrow."

"So does anyone know you are here?"

"My mom."

"How did you tell your mom?"

"I texted her."

"May I see the text?"

I felt a little hesitant but handed him my phone. He asked if he called some random contacts, if they were going to know who I was. He then told me to go have a seat and he would get back to me in a minute.

Many minutes later he called me back over. "Ok, few more questions. Who is this Kathy?"

"That's my mom."

"Really?! Well that's strange. Why would you have your contact listed as Kathy instead of Mom?"

"Uuuuh Cause."

He gave me a glare like I was busted. "Why does Kathy have a different last name than you?"

"Because she's remarried."

"How convenient." (I have no clue what he meant by that)

"Can you tell me what you were doing in Uganda and the Netherlands?" (referring to the stamps in my passport)

"Ya, I went on a missions trip to Uganda. There was a layover in the Netherlands."

"What kind of mission? Are you with the military?"

"Oh no," I smiled trying to make light of the conversation, "it was missionary work with my college."

"What? With your college? Look lady I don't know if your joking or what but churches do missionary work, not colleges."

"It's a Christian college."

"Hmmf" He huffed, "You've just got an answer for everything don't you?"

At this point I could clearly tell they were not happy about me being there, so I offered to leave.

"Look, this was kind of a spur of the moment decision. I was in the area so I thought I'd like to go to Canada since I have never been. I didn't think it would be a problem. But I can just leave, I don't want to be any trouble."

Right then a woman walked up beside him and said to me in a scolding tone like a kid caught jumping on the couch, "Well, guess what. You are here now. You don't get to leave until you start telling the truth about why you are here."

The man handed my passport to her, and she shook her head and threw it on the counter. "What, what is this? This is garbage? This isn't you. It doesn't look anything like you."

"It's just an old picture. My hair was short and dyed."

"What, was it some kind of identity crisis? Cutting your hair and dying it to try to be a different person? Running from your life huh? Did you come here to kill yourself?"

"Why would I drive all the way to Canada to kill myself?"

"So you admit it! You're suicidal."

"No!!"

"What line of work are you in?"

"I'm a social work student, and I'm employed at a children's mental health facility."

"When are you expected back at work?"

"Saturday."

"She's got a text on her phone to the supervisor saying she's not coming in until Saturday. She's supposed to be there Friday but told them she won't make it home in time." The man whispered to the woman as if it were an incriminating text.

The woman asked me the name of my employer, then told me we needed to take this conversation out of the lobby, and the man escorted me to a small, dimly lit room in the back of the building.

They left me alone in there for a few minutes, then the man, woman, and another man I hadn't seen before piled in and crowded the room.

The first man held up a parking permit for Mt. Rushmore and asked me, "Why did we find this in your car?"

"I have been going on a lot of sight seeing trips lately. I went there a couple weeks ago."

"Oh you just up and decided to go to South Dakota from Oklahoma, and now you just up and decided to go to Thunder Bay from Oklahoma."

"Yes, please believe me, road tripping is just something I do a lot of. I have ever since I learned to drive. I can show you pictures, I just like to travel."

The other man suddenly put his face right up to mine, and slammed his hand down on the table I was sitting at, and shouted, "Liar!"

As quick as he had stuck his face in mine, the woman joined him. "We're on to you. We know all about the whole scheme you have going on. We are going to find those drugs and we are going to nab you for terrorism!"

This is when I started crying. I couldn't believe what they were saying. A simple joy ride had turned in to me being labeled a terrorist.  "Oh my God, no!! I'm not suicidal, I don't have drugs, and I am not a terrorist!"

The first man said in a calm tone, "Look, we just need the truth. We want to work with you here, but you're not giving us anything to work with. Why are you here?"

"Why are you here!" The woman shouted immediately after him.

"I told you!!" I screamed this time. "I wanted to drive around the lake. That's all. I didn't see how anyone would be upset by me wanting to drive around the lake. I just wanted to sight see."

The other man let out a loud laugh, "Look at that. She's talking past tense now. She wants to make us believe she won't try again to get back in at some other border. I wasn't born yesterday pouty face!"

That man then left the room. For about 30 minutes or so, the man and woman took turns screaming at me trying to get me to admit to something.

When the other man walked back in, the woman looked at him and said, "I'm sick of her games. Let's just arrest her now for the fake passport and let her attorney explain her motive."

The man had a victorious smile. "Well good news for us, I know her motive. I just got off the phone with the mental hospital she supposedly works at. They've never heard of an employee with that name. AND they had a homicidal patient matching her description escape earlier this week."

At this point I got pissed, and I let them know, "Ok this is getting ridiculous! Now I know you are lying! My job holds kids age 4-17. Do I look like a 17 year old to you?!"

"You know I'm lying? You know I am lying? Well I know you are lying! Now tell me why you are here!"

After that it turned into mad chaos with all 4 of us screaming at each other. I was tired and mad and scared. They kept getting up close in my face screaming. It was giving me a headache and they were getting spit all over my face.

At some point in the next 3 hours my shouting turned to sobbing. I just wanted to get out of there. I thought I must be in the twilight zone or something.

They went back and forth with theories and accusations of fake passport, drugs, terrorism, and suicide. Constantly insisting my Uganda and Mt Rushmore trips were extremely suspicious and that listing my mom as Kathy was proof I wasn't who I said I was. They even looked at my facebook at one point to see if I had the same relatives listed as family on there as I did in my phone.

 In about the 4th hour of the ordeal, a man brought in a bottle of over the counter pain killers that I had in my car. Then all the attention turned to me escaping a mental health facility, and being suicidal.

Finally the original man said, "Listen, we are all tired, we've been going at this for almost 5 hours now, and if you are having some kind of mental health issue, then we don't want to push you past the breaking point. We are going to deny you entry into Canada today, but you are welcome to come back and try again once you have a hotel reservation and actually give us proof that you have a legitimate reason to be in Canada."

Then someone came in and said they found a wood walking stick in my car. I told them I take it on all of my road trips, and that I got it in Uganda. They told me it counted as contraband because it was made of foreign wood. They made me sign a document acknowledging I was being denied entrance but was welcome to come back in the future. Then they made me sign a document saying I acknowledge the stick was made of African wood and was not allowed at the border and was therefore being confiscated.

Yes, that's right, they made me leave my favorite souvenir from Uganda!
They used a piece of wood that US Customs had no problem with, be a scapegoat for 5 hours of interrogation. 

A short time later, I was FINALLY back in my, now torn apart, car. My suitcase had been in my trunk. It was now empty in the back seat, with all its contents spread all around the front seat. The dashboard and arm rest cupboard were open with all the insides thrown around the car. My rear view mirror was knocked off. The car carpeting was pulled up. Several of my cds were scratched and thrown around the car as well.

Turning back to the US border patrol, the guy who greeted me said, "Hey you finally made it! We were getting kind of worried about ya. They kept calling to confirm your passport was legit, and we kept telling them it was. They aren't to fond of us Americans at this stop. You're better off coming in through Fort Frances."

As they lifted the gate, I felt such a great relief to drive back on American soil.

I kept my window rolled down as I completely let go and cried my eyes. I stuck my head out the window as I slowly drove away, and sang as loud as I possibly could, hoping those 3 Canadians would hear me, "GOD BLESS AMERICAAAAAAAA!!! LAAAAAAND that I LOOOOOOVE! (waaah booo hoo hoo sniffle sniffle) STAND BESIDE HEEEEEER (waaah haa haa) AND GUIDE HER, THROUGH THE NIGHT WITH A LIGHT FROM ABOVE. GOD Bleh heh heh heh less AMERICAAAAA!!!


My home, sweet home.

Friday, November 14, 2014

From your local neighborhood introvert: Love me for me.

There's a growing fad in society, that seems to solely revolve around me. I should feel special right? No, I need to rant.

People have an obsession with labeling and criticizing me. It seems every single person has an opinion of me, and feels the need to tell me what is wrong with me and how I should change it.

Here's the ugly truth. I am an introvert.

There, I got it out.

I used to be ashamed of it. I used to deny it. I used to try to prove I was not. But I've come to terms with it, and have learned to appreciate it.


While we are talking about what I am, why don't I tell you everything.
I am quiet, I am rowdy.
I am calm, I am wild.
I am reserved, I am adventurous.
I am a mega planner, I am spontaneous.
I am a very deep thinker, I am a very big joker.
I am a home body, I am a world traveler.
I am very responsible, I am very unorganized.
I prefer routine, I am unpredictable.

You see, there is no specific label for me. I am.... ME.

I take what people say to me very personally. But it has become comical to me how in an hour's span, one person will tell me I am the funniest person they know, and another will tell me I am too uptight and need to learn to have a sense of humor. Who do I believe?

Well I've come up with the answer after a lot of thought.

I am both.

As an introvert, it takes time for me to build rapport and trust with you. I put up my guard when I first meet you. It just comes natural to me. And if I feel judged, criticized, or labeled by you, it will be very hard for you to ever see me let my guard down.

Once I let my guard down, and let you in, you'll be very glad I did. I become one of the most interesting people you will ever know. And it's the case with most introverts.

Someone once told me that there was a castle in South Dakota made entirely of corn, and that they wanted to go there some day. I began telling them some of the interesting things inside the palace, and they looked at me with disbelief, "You mean you've been there?"

They said they just pegged me as a home body. And that's exactly what they did. They pegged me as one thing without ever taking the time to find out what I am all about.

I am the person who has traveled to 9 different nations, and 48 states.
I am the person who has gone on a whim and ended up unexpectedly at a safari.
I am the person who organized 25 people to serenade a friend when she had, had a rough week.
I am the person who was the first of her team to try eating crickets and goat toungue while in Africa.
I am the person planned and saved for a year to send my parents to Ireland.
I am the person who, when a kid drew a smile on my face, kept it on the entire day just for the enjoyment of seeing every person that looked at me get a big smile themselves.
I am the person who gets down on my hands and feet and mimics my hyper dog, to show her how annoying she's being.
I am the person who is okay with going several days without saying a single word to another human being.
I am the person who prefers a nice long nap, over a wild party.
I am the person who will avoid talkative people at all costs.
I am the first person to get a lonely and hurting individual to open up.


I am... ME.

I can make you cry with the story of me talking to a child abductor and convincing him to return the toddler unharmed.
I can make you laugh so hard you forget to breathe with the story of getting detained and interrogated by Canadians.

I am... ME.
 In my eyes, introverts are just like an unpolished diamond. On the surface it looks boring and dull, but once you get inside, you find a treasure.

Call me quiet, call me a loner, call me anti social, call me a home body, call me an under achiever, call me dull, call me unexciting, call me uninteresting. That's ok, it's all true. But it's all just one part of me.

Like many introverts, I am extremely complex. All I ask, is that instead of labeling me, instead of telling me what I am, just love me for me.

If you learn to love your local introvert for what you think they are, you may just fall in love with what you discover.

Sincerely,
 Your local neighborhood introvert.

Monday, February 17, 2014

Time

Almost every day there's some interesting story of something funny or crazy that I've been involved with. Normally this blog would be crammed full of all those stories.

 But this semester has proven to be way more busy than I thought.

That does not mean blog worthy things have ceased, I just haven't had the time to write about them.

 For example, I made a trip home to Oregon for Christmas, bought my parents a trip to Ireland, feasted on frog legs, went of a random joy ride and wound up in Arkansas where we found a safari where I pet a giraffe, joined a new church, started going to an aspiring authors group at that church, started my own writing group at my school, and started an internship at a mentally ill and homeless day center.


For the next few months I will probably be absent from this blog. But before I vanish I want to give insight into just how busy my schedule is.


Sunday: Leave for church at 8:30am. Get home 12pm. Go to work 2:30. Get home 11:30
Monday: Class 8 am to 12pm. Work 2:30. Home 11:30. Mandatory dorm meeting until 12pm.
Tuesday. Class 9am to 3pm. Church 6:30 to 8pm.
Wednesday Class 8am to 12pm. Internship 1pm to 6pm.
Thursday: Class 9am to 3pm. Writing group 7pm to 9pm.
Friday Class 8am to 12pm. Work 2:30. Home 11:30.
Saturday: Walking group 11am to 1pm. Work 2:30. Home 11:30.

So have I got some free time? Juggling social life, eating, sleeping, and studying.

So if you miss me during this Spring semester blogging sabbatical, then come back and get some more enjoyment out of this video of making my mom's life long dream come true.