I am a professional writer. I figure if I declare it enough people will believe me. I get paid to write, I get paid to say things in an interesting way. Why? I don’t know. Is it because others are incapable of communicating their words in an interesting way? I don’t necessarily think so. I think a lot of people are good writers. Like art, writing is one of those things people get more and more insecure about with age. And while I got insecure about a lot of things, my whole life, first by my mother and then by my teachers, I was told I was a good writer. And then POOF! I became a writer. Imagine if people had unconditionally told me I was a fantastic acrobat?
Anyway. Though I have a lot of areas I need to improve in. I am particularly good at writing a few things:
1. Paige Davis R.C. Willey lines (a coveted skill I know)
2. Cover letters for job applications/college admissions
I’m going to toot my own horn here, but when I was applying for dozens of jobs after college, I became aware of my awesome ability to write cover letters.
Recently I helped edit a law school admissions essay, and, well, it was awesome. All the big wig law schools told the applicant how much they LOVED his essay!! And he’s getting in like, everywhere. Now he had really good LSAT scores, but that essay couldn’t have hurt! (Thanks Pete!)
So the point of all this is, if you need to get into law school OR get a job or something like that. Send me an email. I’m feeling pretty damn confident in my skills right now. And soon I will have an abundance of time on my hand, and a need for small treats, favors, exorbitant gifts and large or small checks. Plus I just love to spread the love.
I don’t know if it’s because I’m leaving, but suddenly my work has decided just how “important” I am and how much they “need” me. Why do you have to leave, in order for people to tell you they like you? Like having the funeral AFTER you’re dead. It could have made my time here a whole lot easier had I known they thought I was a worthwhile human being WHILE I was in the office everyday.
Anyway, part of this enlightenment includes having Alison work on a hundred million things. And apparently even though I requested Thursday afternoon off, lo and behold, there is a meeting that I know will take at least two boring hours, scheduled at 1pm. And this makes Alison angry. I feel like growling and stomping. Because I know that the scheduler is trying to fit their PERSONAL agenda, and yet they have NO regard for mine. NONE WHATSOEVER. And he basically said as much when informing me of the time.
After receiving the news of the inconvenient meeting I thought, “What can possibly make me feel better?” And then I looked up at my computer background that is tiled with pictures of my fluffy soon-to-be puppy, Pony. Sweet, sweet, dear Pony. With his little pink nose and loving blue eyes. Goodness and tenderness Puppified in one little package. And then I imagined training him to become a vicious attack dog who takes no prisoners, but is fabulous with children. And THAT made me feel better. That, and blogging about it.
Sigh. I miss the days when my mom could call in to “excuse” my absence.
The moral of the story is: never bring your wallet when you go to “look at puppies.”
Instead of running 20 miles like I was supposed to on Saturday (I’ve lost a great deal of pep in my step due to the watch fiasco) Eric and I went to look at dogs! I have been researching breeds and talking to owners to figure out which type of dog will really be best for an apartment, but also can be a great long distance running dog. Herding dogs and hunting dogs seemed to be the two favorites for running, however most of the hunting dogs are pretty big. I had fallen in love with Vizslas but I was also learning about Australian Shepards after meeting a particularly wonderful one on a run.
I wanted to check out our adoption options, so we went to PetSmart and met some adorable dogs from the shelter. I fell in love with an Aussie/Collie named Sadie. But Eric and I were not planning on getting a dog until we moved to Philly. Plus Eric said Sadie was too big. “How would we get her to Philly? Where would she sit?” Sigh. She was pretty big. But those brown eyes were killer. I looked like all of the other five-year-olds begging their dad to let them, “PET THE PUPPY!” But Eric held his ground.
After I pouted and talked in a puppy voice for a while longer, Eric agreed to go the Utah Humane Society to see some more dogs. Again JUST TO LOOK. There was an 8-month Vizsla/Lab mix named Roxie who was just a doll. I was so excited to meet a Vizsla in person because I had only read about them. She was a bit more muscular than I really wanted, and her coat was not that soft (I grew up with Golden Retrievers, I’m used to soft fur) but still, she was so beautiful. We took the lady out for a walk.
Roxie obviously doesn’t get out much. She was ALL OVER THE PLACE and very, very strong. Eric had to hold the leash most of the time. I know the shelter people do the best they can, but Roxie was insane. I understand with love and patience, even the craziest dogs can become great, but Roxie was just too big for this little girl. After about 10 minutes of chasing after her, she jumped up and gave me a bloody lip. And that was when I decided Eric had a good point about a smaller dog. I really wish the best for Roxie, and if you are a talented dog person with a yard you should go and give her a visit! But I had to be realistic, I love dogs, but I don’t love them unconditionally.
We left the shelter with some good perspective. Yes it is noble and wonderful to adopt a dog, and I respect and admire those who do. But after seeing how hard it was going to be to train a full sized dog…in an apartment, I was more open to the idea of visiting some breeders to find a pup who met our more specific needs.
After visiting Eric’s parents on Sunday afternoon I started telling Eric about a miniature Australian Shepard breeder that lived in Morgan Utah.
“Those are hard to find!” I said, “I looked on the Internet for a long time! Plus they are right down the street! Who knows if we will be able to find one in Philly! We should just go look!”
Eric, being the puppy lover that he is, agreed, and we called the breeder. She said we could come over right then, so we drove an hour to Morgan Utah to see Ann and her puppies.
Miniature Australian Shepards were developed simply by breeding smaller Aussies. They have the exact same energy and personality as a big pup, but they are smaller. They are good with kids (for the future) and herding dogs, so they have endless energy. They have soft furry coats and they are very smart.
So after an hour in the car of me changing all the lyrics of every song to be about puppies, we arrived at Ann’s house.
She brought the puppy out and after two mintues Eric declared, “We’ll take him!” How could you resist such a face?
Haha. THEY WERE SOOO CUTE. We told Ann about our living arrangements, travel plans, and my running. And she said we were a great match! Then she brought out two other puppies. But we ended up going with our first little one because he had the most unique coat and he was the biggest. He will still be small, but not too small. Perfect! We are going to go pick him up after I finish work, so around April 10th. I already miss him! But until then I will be busy getting his little puppy home ready! And learning how to be the best mom/trainer ever!
I’m so so excited. But also ready to have my life completely taken over by puppy town. I love you all, almost as much as my new puppy.
So, I’m here at the Comfort Inn in Green River, a small town about 50 miles outside of Moab. We are here in Green River because I just ran the Moab 1/2 Marathon. But, we had to stay in Green River, not beautiful Moab, because if you don’t sign up for accommodations in October (before you even sign up for the race) like the other over-eager runners, you’re screwed. It’s not too bad though, there is a Blimpie’s across the street and we have a giant tub about 8 feet away from our bed. Yes it’s as random as it sounds.
FYI a half marathon is only 13.1 miles, a whole is 26.2. I plan to run the full SLC Marathon in April (notice how I say PLAN to). So, in order to prepare me for running these distances, I have a watch that I train with, it’s a Nike Plus watch. It supposedly tells me my distance, my pace per mile, and my elapsed time.
Now, I knew that my watch was off. As in, I thought it was telling me I was running about a minute faster than I actually was. But I checked some runs on google maps, and I thought it was at least getting the distances right. Sigh.
According to my watch today I actually ran 14.25 miles and not a measly 13.1. Also according to MY watch, and not that giant clock that those nit-picky race directors think is God, I ran about an 8:24 minute mile. Which sounds a whole lot better than the 9 minute mile THEY say I ran.
I finished about 7 minutes slower than I had hoped to. BUT according to my watch, it was still a really good run compared to what I have been doing for the past three months with my magic watch.
So instead of getting upset, and pouting, I’m just going to live my life, and center my reality around my magic watch. A watch I plan on calibrating as soon as I get home. Then I will really know how slow I actually am, but I will never forget the amazing 14.25 miles I ran here with the great pace of 8:24.
If you want to feel good about yourself give me a call, and I’ll lend you my magic watch before I turn it back into a mere mortal.