Lippy Stuff

Being a woman at any festival type event is extra special when nature calls. Unless you can hold it all day (and if you can may I please have your super power?), you're going to have to break down and use one of those disgusting port-o-potties at some point. Here are a few things I've learned to help make that "experience" more bearable, as well as some other general festival going tips:

1. Take disinfecting wipes to clean off the toilet seat in the port-o-potties. Even if you don't sit, it will help you feel like you're picking up fewer cooties. You can also use them to clean off your hands. If you can't find a travel pack of them, take a few out of the big cannister, fold them up and put in a plastic baggie.

2. Toilet paper. Take it. You are almost certain to pick the port-o-pottie that has no toilet paper because pretty much none of them do.

3. Hand sanitizer. Need I say more?

4. If you wear contacts, take your glasses, a lenses case and solution. You never know when your eyes are going to crap out and reject your contact lenses, and you don't want to have to be led around by a seeing eye person the rest of the day.

5. Water bottle. Hydration is key to surviving any day out in the sun, so take a water bottle and refill often. It also saves you money on buying water every time you need a refill. Also, YAY! Save the planet!

6. Last, but certainly not least, SUNSCREEN. If you're going to be out in the sun all day it should go without saying that you need to put on sunscreen. Apply 30 minutes before going out in the sun, and reapply every couple of hours. Use SPF 30 or higher on your body, and I recommend Neutrogena Age Shield Face sunblock for the face.

Hope these tips help you like they've helped me. Have fun out there!

Well, day 1 of ACL Fest is over, and I decided that tomorrow I will be bringing a stool for me to stand on so I can actually see the stage. What stool, you may ask? Why this one:

Let me tell you, being short sucks, and being short at a concert kind of makes you wonder why the heck you forked over so much money to stare at the back of people's heads. Hopefully this should help me get my money's worth.

My favs of the day were Spoon (AWESOME!), The Black Keys, and Miike Snow. I could have used a dance partner for the Miike Snow show (Andrea T???). I'll post pictures at the end of the weekend. Although Matt had to take most of the pics today since, as previously mentioned, I couldn't see squat.

I caught Matt experimenting with accessories. I'm not sure if polka dots are really him, though.

It's hard to believe it's only been three weeks since we said goodbye to Abi. It feels exponentially longer than that. It's impossible to put into words how her loss has impacted me. Believe me, I've tried. There's just this nagging, lonely emptiness; an emptiness I didn't see coming, that hit me like a freight train barreling down the tracks. I'm not sure what I expected this to feel like. I honestly didn't really allow myself to think about it. I couldn't. If I had there would have been no way I could have made such an impossible decision, one that needed to be made for her.

These three weeks without her have shown me a lot about myself. She made me a better person. Maybe to some that seems silly, but loving her and taking care of her opened my heart. In many ways I'd say she saved me from myself, forced me to keep my heart open in times when I could have easily sealed it off. She got me out of bed in those time when I felt like I couldn't go on. I'm so thankful I had her in my life.

Now it's time to move on. Yeah, I'm pretty sure I'm going to have this ache in my heart for her for a long time. That's just how it goes when you open your heart to love. But Matt and I are ready to experience that happy puppy love again, and we can't stand the emptiness in our house when we come home from work every day. No, no dog will ever replace Abi; it would be impossible to do that and we would never try. However, we're ready to hear the pitter-patter of puppy claws in our house again, so we hope to be sharing pictures of our new family member sometime in the near future. Stay tuned.

After everything we'd been through last week Matt and I needed to escape the emptiness of our house, so we packed up and headed to a nearby state park for a spontaneous camping trip Friday night. We arrived at the park after dark and took the first, most secluded spot we could find. Little did we know that our "secluded" spot was two spots over from Loud and Stupid.

Matt had recently acquired a 2-person camping hammock, a hammock made from parachute material and designed to sleep 2. We decided that the cool evening would be the perfect time to try it out. After setting that and its special mosquito net up, we settled into our hammock to relax. We chatted for a while and must have drifted off (in spite of Loud and Stupid over there), because the next thing I knew Matt sat straight up, which is quite a feat in a hammock, and screamed "What the hell!" I instantly bolted awake, trying to figure out what was going on. Suddenly I felt something moving underneath the hammock, and heard growling just to the left of my head. I freaked out. Which made Matt freak out even more.

What happened next is both funny and terrifying. Imagine the two of us, taco-ed up in a hammock, Matt whipping his windmill arms trying to hit whatever it was that was "attacking" us while I screamed at the top of my lungs, swinging my arms with equal furry. We're both blind and unable to reach our glasses or a flashlight. All the while something is growling at us from the dark and moving around under our hammock. Additionally, I'm thinking in my head, "Hey, I'm screaming like I'm being murdered and NOBODY is coming to see if we're OK. We are screwed." At just about that point Loud calls out to his dog to "get over here". Jack-ass left his dog off leash in the middle of the night and he'd wandered over to our site, presumably to sniff out the armadillo we'd seen earlier. I'm sure this incident lasted only a few seconds, but it felt like an eternity. I have never felt such an intense fear in my entire life.

It took us both a good hour to fall back asleep, what with all the adrenaline coursing through our veins. That and the fact that every sound we heard now felt like a threat to our humanity. I still feel a bit traumatized from the whole experience even though I know we were never in any real danger. Fear that intense tends to leave a mark on you. I'm a bit nervous about our next camping experience, and I can promise you there will be no scary stories around the campfire.

This is not an award I would usually get. Most days I'm a fairly externally passive person. Yes, I may talk a lot of shit when I'm alone, but when the rubber meets the road I'm more than likely going to do whatever I have to do to smooth things over. Meaning I will let you take that parking space I was waiting for but you stole like a douche bag while I curse you out from the non-confrontational safety of my car.

However, today is not one of those days. Today I am exhausted, physically and emotionally, and I have nothing to give to anyone or any situation that demands my energy. Today I don't have the will to fight the Inner Me that wants to let you know you stole my parking spot and would you kindly move. And so today, Inner Me will get to have her way.

On the way back from a team service project this morning, my coworkers and I decided to stop for coffee. This particular coffee shop is notorious for its limited parking, but what do you know, we found a spot right as we pulled up. I waited for the oncoming traffic to go by before pulling into the spot, and just as I was about to pull in this guy pulled around the corner and whipped into my spot. The only available spot. And then he just sat there in his car.

I was pissed, and proceeded with my standard non-confrontational cursing-from-my-car, WITH my coworkers in my car, while I searched for another spot. But there was none. And that's when I snapped. Inner Me was all, No, Dude took my spot. I can't take this today. I want my spot. I do not want to have to walk 2 blocks for my coffee when I had a front row spot. Inner Me decided I shouldn't take this, so Inner Me whipped back around to the spot. Dude was still sitting in his car! Inner Me parked behind him, got out of the car and knocked on his window. After a brief but polite conversation Dude acknowledged the shitiness (his words, not mine) of his actions and offered to move. Oh yes, Inner Me got her parking spot.

My coworkers were a bit surprised by my actions, but nobody was as surprised as I was. Very very non-standard behavior for me, but I have to admit I do not feel bad about it. I promise I was totally polite to him. He was also very kind to move. And it made me think that the next time I experience someone taking out their bad day on me I should maybe cut them some slack. Who knows what they could be going through?

Today we said goodbye to you. It has been the hardest thing I've ever had to do. So much harder than there are words to express. You've been a part of my life since I moved out on my own, and you are so intertwined into my life and who I am that it's hard to picture myself without you. As Matt pointed out, he's never know me without you. You have been my ever-present shadow, and I have loved you every day.

The truth is, you left us a long time ago. And when I was crying today, deeply mourning the loss of you, I realized I was grieving the you we hadn't seen in a very long time. None of this was your fault; you were just born this way. And in spite of everything that lead us to this day, you were still the best dog I could have ever imagined having in my life.

I remember holding you as a puppy in your kennel at the Town Lake Animal Shelter each day, hoping you would get to know me while I waited that long and tortuous week until I could take you home. I remember how scared you were of me and everything when I first brought you home, how long it took you to open up to me. I was so afraid you'd never open up to me. And then one day I threw a stick for you and you played with me and I knew we would be just fine. You always loved sticks...the bigger the better.

I remember the first time you caught a squirrel. I was terrified your "dog instincts" would kick in and you'd rip it to shreds. Instead you played with it just like you played with your stuffed animals, tossing it straight up into the air and watching it hit the ground. Repeat. I'm sure it was the worst day of that squirrel's life, but you certainly had fun.

I remember teaching you how to swim, and I remember that once you learned there was no keeping you out of any puddle you could find. I also remember all those orange training floaties you hid along the bank of Red Bud Isle, in just the spot I couldn't retrieve them without getting in the water. Punk.

I remember your knack for injuring yourself right before I would leave to go out of town. You put me through hell worrying about you. But that's what we do for those we love. We worry and worry and walk through fire for them.

I remember how much you LOVED to run. And run. And run. Running was who you were. It was one of the things that defined you. And when you weren't able to run anymore it broke my heart. You were a dog who lived her life fully. You put your whole life and joy and energy into everything you did, and I loved watching you be happy. It was when I saw that you could no longer do the things you loved that I realized I had to let you go.

My goal in caring for you was always to give you the best life I could. You depended on me 100% and that is the least I could give you. I wish we'd had longer, but know that I loved you with my whole heart. I will always love you, my Angel Girl.







Abigail Otis
12/12/2002 - 8/26/2010