Wednesday, June 02, 2004

You guys kill me.

Here I go, grumbling off into this dark radio station, and sign onto my blog to check my daily visits, and you guys have me crying with your sweetness.

Thank you for your cyber-hugs and prayers and positive thoughts, and just understanding.

I think I can suck up some of my grumbliness enough to tell you about other things in my life, so here goes:

I haven't worked up the courage to call the man back about Oscar. I'm having bad vibes as to why someone would do a search to find a pitbull, which is weird, because I happen to love a pitbull very much. But bad vibes are bad vibes, and it's gonna take some effort for me to call this guy. I did respond to the e-mail from the woman who was interested. She has a dog, two cats, and children. She works at home. I'm honestly not sure he'd be right for her, because it sounded like the kids were very young, and while he'd love to play with them, he'd hurt them pretty easily just trying to climb into their tiny laps. But I sent her an e-mail singing his praises, and also telling her that he is so exuberant that I'd be concerned about little ones (she said toddlers) and letting her know he's still being housetrained. She hasn't responded, but it could be a great thing for him... we'll see. She couldn't love him more than I, but maybe it's the right place for him. If I keep telling myself I have an open mind, do you think I will?

In knitting news, I was trying to decide which color of my Canada Buffalo (or whatever the heck that yarn is called) I would use as a swatch to see if cables show up felted, and Oscar solved the problem for me. He's so smart.

He figured out how to open the bedroom door of the spare room that is his bedroom (he puts himself to bed when he's tired, it's pretty cute) and rather than coming into my bedroom in the middle of the night (where the evil attack declawed cat lays in wait) he opened a bag of yarn. He now thinks he battled a navy Sheep. I don't think he ate much, as there's plenty left, in a shredded tangled mess, and there are enough scraps of that for swatching, so really it was quite kind of him. It's my own fault - I know better than to leave yarn out where furry ones can get into it. It's quite dangerous and I'm lucky nothing worse happened. Plus, he didn't pee in the house, but waited until about 5:30 to come into the bedroom (braving the evil attack declawed cat) and asked to go potty, so bonus point.

Shelly, the wonderful foster care coordinator at HCHS wrote me an e-mail telling me that when she sends people to me about Oscar, it's my choice as to suggest they go through with the adoption process, that they aren't filling out applications at that point. That made me feel a lot better, as I have a fear that someone will just show up and say "by the way, I'm taking your dog now" and drape big ugly gold chains around his neck, pop a cigar in his mouth and enlist him in the drug cartell. Yeah, I know, over-active imagination, but I do think finding a home for a breed like this needs to be even more careful than most other breeds, and I think you should be pretty damn careful for all of them.

Yesterday ended up being a very stressful day for others in the company, but because of that, a not-so-stressful day for me. The "flagship" station lost power several times. Because of that, they couldn't produce the commercial logs that normally keep me here for long hours trying to schedule (as my GM puts it) "ten pounds of shit into a five pound bag". Today's log is just running, identical to last week, because the files were completely lost. They know it, too, so I'm not in any trouble for not doing a major part of my job. I got to leave at 5:45 last night, after a short 10 hour day with no lunch. Boy, if this keeps up, I'm gonna get spoiled.

Thought for the Day:

Hope Young - “AS GOD HAS PLANNED God did not make me in a single hour: He fashioned me for laughter, love, and tears, And as a tree that slowly comes to flower, He gave me time, the blessed gift of years. God did not make me with a single breath: He gave me will to strive and hope and trust, And days for growth, so that the hour of death Might total well, not blow the sun to dust. May I grow graciously, through sun and rain, In tolerance and kindness for all men, And if life’s storms should bow my head with pain, Let not my soul be a stunted tree; Let me not fall, but reach toward the stars; And let me grow as God has planned for me.”


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