Lippy Stuff

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

For a couple of weeks at least.

For the last few weeks we've been taking care of our friend's chickens while they were away, and wow are chickens the easiest animals in the world to take care of. It's pretty much feed, water, shovel poop out of coop 2x's/day, with a total daily care time of 10-20 minutes. How much easier can it get? And you get free eggs! Abi requires at least 3-4x's that amount of care and there is no free food after all that work. Somebody's getting the raw end of this deal. It's a good thing she's so cute.

Here is a picture of the hens, Lucille, Pat and Job.


And here is a picture that explains why we don't have chickens of our own.

Why is this blog called "Lippy Stuff"? To answer that question, we have to go back a bit.

In my last semester of college my hormones decided to conduct a final assault on my body, and by doing so 1) turned my hair from board straight and easy to manage into just wavy enough to be a funkified mess if I don't do something about it every day; and 2) turned my face into a pock-marked wasteland. It was awful. At the age of 21 and about to enter the professional world I was dealing with what most people dealt with at 15. I had to do something about it. After trying every dermatological antibiotic available, I was left with the dreaded Accutane.

If you're not familiar with Accutane, it is a horrible, horrible drug with some of the most horrendous side-effects I've ever seen in a medication approved by the FDA. With that said, I also consider it a miracle drug as it completely cleared up my acne, so much so that people who meet me now cannot believe I ever had to be on it. That's how great my skin looks now.

The worst side-effect I experienced from taking Accutane was dry, chapped lips. I'm not just talking a little chapped, or even dry cracked lips. I'm talking stranded in the desert for a week straight with no water parched. My lips would peel off in layers. It was gross. Horrible. Disgusting. To help with the dry gross grossness of it all my doctor recommended using Aquaphor Healing Ointment. And oh, the bliss of putting specially formulated petroleum jelly on my lips. It made a HUGE difference.

The only problem is, ever since the Accutane experience, I must have some kind of lip ointment on AT ALL TIMES. If my lips start to get dry and I have nothing readily available to put on them, I will stop whatever I am doing until I find something, some kind of lip ointment, anything, ANY LIPPY STUFF WILL DO! You could say I'm a little bit OCD about it, but it's not my fault. The drugs made me this way.

OK, I've got to let something out here for a minute.

Over the last year Matt has really gotten into road cycling. He commutes to work 2-3 days a week when the weather is good, and typically goes for a long ride on the weekends. About 6 months ago I decided to join him and was fortunate to have a friend loan me a bike for a while. I decided I really enjoyed the sport, but that I needed my own bike, one that fit me better and didn't have down tube shifters (whoever thought that was s good idea?). So, for the last couple of weeks we have been looking around for a bike for me.

I'm a small person with a small frame, so we've generally been looking at women's road bikes, assuming they would fit me better. However, have you seen women's road bikes? They are hideous, painted in shades of purple, pink, and sky blue with decorative swooshes on them that I can only compare to patterns I've seen on yoga clothing. What makes manufacturers of women's bikes think I want a sparkly purple bike? I find it hard to believe any market research would have led to this outcome.

The first 10 speed I ever had was lavender and pink. I thought I was pretty hot stuff riding around on my Huffy Sweetheart bicycle. And I was...for a 10 year old. However, I am now 30 years old and would like something a bit more sophisticated, thank you very much. When I'm on my bike I want to feel tough, powerful, like I can conquer any hill that comes my way. Call me crazy, but pink flowers don't really inspire awesomeness in me.

My original intentions were to just find a men's bike that I liked and maybe put a women's saddle on it to make it more comfortable. But yesterday we went around to some bike shops so I could test out different bikes, and as sad as I am to admit it, I really need a women's bike. My shoulders are very narrow, even for a woman, which means my grip is narrower and a women's handlebar is just so much more comfortable. Women's bikes feel like they fit my body better. It just frustrates me that I'm going to have to sacrifice style for comfort, and only because I am a woman. Bike manufacturers need to get their proverbial heads out of their proverbial asses and realize women want to kick butt just as much as men do. Make us a bike that can help us accomplish that.