Author Archives: wendynewell

Fluff (As Promised)

18 Friday Jan 2013

Posted by in Riggins

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logan and rigginsAfter yesterdays downer of a post I promised you fluff today. So here you go! What is fluffier than kids and dogs. I dare say nothing!

Riggins has never really been a kid friendly dog. It isn’t his fault. He just never had any children around him when he was growing up. When I moved into my current house I had a housewarming party and one of my good friends brought her adorable baby boy to the party. He sat, like a cute blob, in one of my outdoor folding chairs and Riggins would have none of it. He circled that kid, head down butt up, and growled and growled. I usually say Riggins doesn’t like kids because of their frantic energy or high-pitched squealing (let’s face it both those things bother us too it just isn’t social acceptable to put our butt up in the air and growl at them) or the fact that they are at his height staring right into his eyes and heading straight for him in what he translates into an attack. None of that explains why he growled at my friends baby. That poor kid wasn’t even old enough to talk. He was literally just sitting there barely moving.

You can imagine my concern when my sister had her children. I took time off of work when my nephew was born so I could be with them. After Logan was born I spent two nights in my sister’s house on my own discussing with Riggins that he was not to eat the new baby. I did all those things you read about. Brought a blanked (or something) to have him sniff before meeting Logan, etc. I have to say it was a shock how he reacted. He was cool with the kid. When my niece was born he was cool with her as well. I was shocked. I can only assume he could feel that they were family and more importantly if he did something to hurt one of them he would be up a creek without a paddle!

We have had our ups and downs. Riggins was extremely jealous of any attention the kids got. If there was a baby on your lap you can guarantee Riggins was trying to sneak up on your lap too. He was a master of pushing his nose under the lump of baby and wiggling his way in between the two humans. He still is jealous but as the kids grow it has gotten better. When we are home he can go weeks without wanting to come up on the couch with me and snuggle, preferring to spend his time in front of the open door or curled up in the dark under the dinning room table. Then we get to my sister’s house and he has to prove he is my baby. Most of the time during our visit he can be found draping himself on my lap.

I still have to remind both kids that running = playing. They seem to like being chased by the big black dog at first until they realize the next part of play is a tackle! We were at the local winery by my sister’s house once where both dogs and kids can run free. Logan took off giggling with Riggins in full flight behind him. Dogs are faster than kids so it was only a matter of a few feet before Riggins took the lead and did so by happily pushing Logan down. He was fine. He is short and his fall was on grass and a zillion autumn leaves but he was shocked and the laughter coming from his family did not help one bit!

The most amazing thing is what he allows my niece, Kira, to get away with. They love each other. When she was younger she would walk around the house behind Riggins with her hand on his butt. She is CONSTANTLY wanting to kiss him. Makes me nervous and Ikira and riggins always have to remind her not to bother Riggins while he is eating or sleeping. He has allowed her to use him as an ottoman and a blanket and once while camping allowed her to put colorful smiley face stickers all over him. Every once in a while he will look up with a “well what do you want me to do? She’s adorable. We all make sacrifices for family” look on his face.

My family and I still watch the kids like a hawk when they are around Riggins. Like I said before dogs are animals and can lash out at anytime but Riggins has shown a level of patience I never expected from him. He has even gotten better with other kids. Better ….. not great!

I hope you enjoyed your end of the work week fluff piece! Have a great weekend.

The Best Medicine

17 Thursday Jan 2013

Posted by in work

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sad(I’ve been hesitant to post this. Do people really want to hear the ramblings and sorrow of a crazy person? Will people judge me? I’m still tied down by the stigma I feel around the diagnosis of depression. The thought that it isn’t a real mental disease, that it just means you are weak and unable to deal with regular ol’ life, that you are just being selfish and mean to friends/family, and so on and so forth. I finally decided to post because of all of this. I don’t want to be ashamed of being sick and having the strength to get help. Perhaps my story can help someone else. I know when it came time for me to push back my own mental negativity toward depression medication and take that leap it helped me to know that people I love and respect had at one time, or still are, been treated for depression. It helped show me that I wasn’t weak and I wasn’t alone. I hope my story can do the same for someone else. If you aren’t inline with this thinking or just don’t want to deal with it please feel free to skip today’s post. I’m sure tomorrow I’ll be back to a fluffier topic like the crazy antics of adorable Riggins, the insanity of my last date, or my novice ramblings on how dogs and people should live together.)

The other day I was sitting on the sofa and looked over at Riggins and started laughing. Real honest, can’t stop crying, laughter. He was just so cute. His ears were pulled down and his bright orange eyes were staring out at me and he looked just like a little cartoon woodland creature (actually a specific one but I can’t for the life of me remember the character’s name nor what show he is on so it isn’t much help to you or this story). All of a sudden it hit me. I was LAUGHING. Real honest to goodness LOLing right there in my livingroom. It made me think back and I realized my last week has been full of laughter. Talking to my mom, hanging out with my dad, Skyping with my sister and her family, at dinner with friends, watching TV (did you see that episode of The Big Bang Theory where they were dressed up as characters from Star Trek:The Next Generation? I laughed out loud at that episode no less than 1/2 a dozen times). This realization made me so completely happy. You see I had been struggling with a devastating depression and hadn’t laughed, really laughed, in a long time.

Let me start by saying I know I have a wonderful life. I’m honestly so lucky to be surrounded by friends, family, and Riggins. All who love me for who I am and will always be there for me. I say that because as I get into my story it starts to sound like I don’t understand that. I do. I just couldn’t see that through the darkness at the time.

I’m not naive enough to think my depression was caused by one event. I can tell you that the one event, my job, was the straw that broke the camels back. Even saying that it was just my job isn’t true. I really looked forward to working with many of my co-workers and enjoyed the somewhat new and exciting world I lived in of social media. I could list off everything that contributed to “the job” being my undoing but I don’t want to. It isn’t important.

Looking back two things astonish me. One, I didn’t realize sooner that I was in real trouble. There were so many signs! There was absolutely no reason for me to hurt as much as I did. Two, I am impressed with my strength to seek help and claw my way out. The battle of human vs. depression is not an easy one and anyone who tells you it is should go jump in a lake because his pants are on fire!

So what were those signs? What was I really feeling? I seem to have so many stories but I want to share the few that really lead me to knowing I needed help, finding it, and taking the scary steps to making it happen.

I was on a business trip in Chicago. As usual I was up late the night before working, didn’t sleep well in the hotel bed (the fist night in any hotel is never great), and woke up early to attend conference calls and do work before heading out for my day of meetings. That was the first time that I realized I was losing my shit over things that shouldn’t bother me. My morning was a disaster and I can’t even tell you why. I just know that I sat at a desk, on the phone, doing emails, crying. Everything threw me into a tailspin. I was full and couldn’t handle anything else no matter how small or insignificant. Anything and everything would cause me to overflow. Just before I had to leave for a meeting I tried pulling myself together, grabbed my 1 quart plastic bag with my 3oz or smaller containers of make up and looked in the mirror. I stopped short and put down the bag. I had never seen someone so sad as the person staring back at me in that mirror. Make-up wouldn’t help. I put on my jacket, grabbed my computer, and left the room for my meeting. The show must go on.

It got to the point that I couldn’t go a day without crying. When not on the road and working from home I’d throw myself on my bed and sob. Full out gasping for air sobbing. Riggins was going out of his mind. He didn’t know what was happening or what to do. He’d jump on the bed next to me as far away as possible and then get on his stomach and army crawl up to me until his nose was touching my face. This is when I realized my condition wasn’t just hurting me. It was hurting others. I came to realize that Riggins didn’t mind spending days after days and week after week with my folks while I was traveling for work. Why would he. My parents house was a fun happy house while mine was covered in a shroud of darkness and unhappiness. Who wants to hang out there?

One morning I finally realized it was all too much. I needed help. I called my primary care physician and was told that I could get in to see him in a week. The receptionist asked if that was okay and I agreed. After all I had lasted months being sad what’s a few more days? (I’m trying to think of another adjective beyond “sad” that I can use in this post and just can’t come up with one. That’s what I was. That’s how I described it.) A little later in the morning I got in my car and took off to get a soda. This was how I gave myself time outs in my day. I’d load up Riggins and we would visit one of the many fast food drive thrus in the area and order a large diet coke. Sometimes, to shake things up, with extra ice. While in the car I called my mom and dad (using Bluetooth of course) and immediately lost it. When asked what was wrong my response was, “I’m just sad. I’m just so sad.” (Time out for a second. Can you imagine being on the phone with your daughter and hearing that???? I mean how heart wrenching is that. I suppose this is the perfect time to take a step back and address my friends and family. I want to say I’m sorry. I’m sorry for any trouble or heartache my depression caused you. It was unfair for you to have to take that on but I’m so lucky that you did. Thank you for being so caring and wonderful. I love you.) Since driving was impossible through the tears I pulled over into the Walgreen’s parking lot and stopped the car. When I could talk without gasping for air I called my doctor’s office and told them they had to see me today and as soon as possible. I needed help. Not just a pat on the back and a “it’s going to be okay.” I needed help from a doctor and I needed it as soon as possible.

Driving to the doctor’s I couldn’t stop crying. Not sobbing more like leaking. In the parking lot I tried to pull myself together. I was honestly concerned that the doctor would see me and immediately admit me into the hospital for treatment. I went through every exercise any female executive learns on how to trigger the other side of your brain and keep from crying. Look up and to the left, do math in your head, and if all else fails make a fist with your hand and jam your nail into your palm. None of this helped. This wasn’t an angry or sadness that was coming from an external source like being flown to NY to be yelled at by your CEO in front of your peers while he mispronounces your name as Wednesday (happened). This was an internal source of sadness. One at a time every cell in my body was turning toward sadness and darkness. At this point I realized I was at war with a sickness that had a definite time limit. I had to find a way to regain the parts of me that I was loosing and do so before so much of me was gone there was no going back. That was the day I started depression medicine. It helped. It helped a ton. I went back a number of times until we found a combination of medicine that worked for me. I could breath again. I wasn’t happy but I wasn’t on the cliff looking down with my toes hanging over it anymore.

One evening I was out with a very good couple friend of mine. We had dinner and then headed to a very cool bar for drinks. This bar was fabulous. Dive-y and the perfect Wendy vibe. I made the mistake of looking at my work email on my phone and that was it. Down the rabbit hole I went. My male friend asked me why I wasn’t having any fun. “Crap” I thought, “I can’t even fake it anymore.” I tried to assure him that I was, that I loved the bar, that it was just work stuff that I needed to shake off. It was then that I realized I was a giant liar. I wasn’t having fun. It was more than that. I couldn’t have fun. I went home and cried (shocker).

As I walked my life tightrope (with at lease a tiny net due to the drugs) my mantra became, “just get through it.” Just get through this early morning conference call. Just get through this business trip. Just get through this flight. Just get through this night. Just get through. That’s how I lived my life. Just barely getting through. One day I managed to give myself a concussion. That little adventure deserves it’s own blog post all by itself! Treatment for my self inflicted concussion was to do nothing. No work, no computer, no email, no phone calls, no TV, no books, nothing. For a second I saw what was important. My job wasn’t important I was important. I needed to get out of my job. This was no long a choice. It was a necessity. I started to plan how I could get a new job, one where I could be happy, and be able to leave my current one.

During my recovery my parents came over to check on me and have lunch. I remember sitting around my little dinning room table that once belonged to my grandmother, eating Taco Bell, and telling my parents I just need to get through it. Just needed to get through this week. Just needed to get through the two work trips that were on my calendar in the next couple of weeks. Just get through the holidays. They left and headed home. A couple of hours later I received a call from my dad. He suggested I should just go ahead and quit now. My father is the most logical human on the planet. I simply can not imagine a situation where he would not just condone but suggest that I leave a job without having another income available to me right away. That’s what I had gotten to. The unimaginable.

So I quit. It was really difficult. The company didn’t want me to leave and I had a number of discussions with people higher up the chain than me trying to convince me that staying was the best action to take. I didn’t tell them I was depressed. I didn’t tell them I had spent the last year hurting myself, my family, my friends, and my beloved dog. I just told them it wasn’t a good fit for me. I had my doubts a number of times. There was more than once that I almost lost the strength and took my resignation letter back. After all, as I mentioned near the beginning of this post, I really did like working with a number of my co-workers. One of my very good friends must have sensed this and sent me an email. She reminded me that during one of my business trips I had sent her an email saying I wouldn’t mind if the plane crashed because at least then I wouldn’t have to do this trip. CAN YOU IMAGINE SENDING THAT TO SOMEONE? How horrific! I didn’t just think that, I wrote that down in an email and sent it to someone I loved and didn’t think twice about it. Nail in the coffin. I was quitting.

Now on paper I should really be depressed! I have no job and don’t really have any hot leads. I’m struggling with the decision of staying in my profession or taking the hard step of leaving all I have accomplished and finding a career that may be more morally fulfilling (aka make less money). On paper I should be depressed but I’m not! I’m happy. I’m beyond happy. I’m laughing. My life is good! I realize I still have work to do. I have yet to go to therapy. I know I should but I haven’t been able to take that leap yet. Dr. Drew would be so unhappy with me going the pill route first without even trying talking to a professional. But that is what I had to do to save myself. (If you have read any of my blogs you know I adore Dr. Drew. Did you know he has his own podcast now? It’s like a wave of calm and sanity amongst the insanity fo life. He has one podcast that he does on his own and one he does with Adam Carolla. You should defiantly go subscribe to both – http://adamcarolla.com/carolladigital/.)

I realize this was a long posting but I hope it helps someone. Please please please, if you find yourself starting to slip down the spiral of sadness and depression get help. Don’t wait as long as I did. Get help as soon as you can. Go to your primary care physician and tell him/her what is happening. Grab a friend or family member by the arm, tell him/her you need help and don’t let go until they help you. Later, after you are better you can apologize for being selfish (because you had to be) and thank them for the strength they gave you.

Like me you have a right to be happy. Like me you deserve to laugh.happy

(This picture is from our annual ladies holiday dinner this year. I love it glowing eyes and all because I’m laughing!)

Not That Kind of Bar

16 Wednesday Jan 2013

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Bar with Riggins(Quick note about this picture. You have no idea how hard it was to get this picture. No whispers from the peanut gallery. I know it isn’t great form but you try getting Riggins to sit in a position where you and he can be seen in a skinny mirror, your only full length mirror, hold up dog biscuits to keep his attention AND hold an iPhone at an angle where you can get the action all while attempting basic thigh work. It’s not easy. After seeing it I thought I should retake it after moving the Lucy bag in the background aside — then I thought “nah … good enough.” Side note – wouldn’t it be awesome if Riggins could come to class? How much more fun would it be doing push ups and plank knowing that there was a chance a cutie dog could be licking your face at anytime? I once did a Bar Method video work-out at my sister’s house amongst chaos, Riggins continually trying to lick the salty sweat off me and my oh so helpful nephew deciding I didn’t look enough like the ladies on TV so helped by pushing my leg up higher.)

I was having a discussion with a New York friend the other day and we decided that extreme love and loyalty for a specific exercise routine is a left/right coast thing. It’s not like you go to Des Moines and meet up with a group of women that will just die if they don’t get to their Physique 57 class. Only us coasters would be crazy enough to spend oodles of cash on an exercise routine then spend hours on hours demanding to others that it is the best and better than whatever pilaties class they are loyal to.

My exercise class of choice is Bar Method. I realize it can be confused with the good kind of bar. After all that’s how it is spelled (Bar not Barre). No confusing once you are there. This is work out time not drink up time. Before I list off the reasons my loyalty stays with Bar Method let me set the scene.

I’ve said it before but it’s worth repeating. I’m not an athlete. I do a lot of athletic things but they never come easy and I’ll never grab a fist place ribbon in anything. Every 5K, triathlon sprint, hike up a hill I do I have to push myself to make it happen. When I went to my first Bar Method class years ago I went with a good friend. A very flexible good friend. The studio, Pasadena, was new at the time so most of the room was new or new-ish to this style of exercise. At the time I was VERY active. I ran more than 1/2 dozen 5K’s a year. I’d finished 2 triathlons. I considered myself relatively in shape. Famous last words before entering a Bar Method class. During thigh (still the hardest part of class for me) I literally started to black out/throw up (if you don’t think you can do both of those at the same time you haven’t taken a Bar Method class). I actually had to step out of the studio and sit down with my head between my legs. One of the owners (at the time I didn’t realize who she was) came out to make sure I was okay and the super sweet guy behind the desk assured me that the rest of the class was easier (he lied but it was nice of him to say). I took a deep breath and returned to class. After class as my friend and I were walking back to our cars I made the vow that this silly little exercise class would not be the end of me. I would do it until I conquered it …. I’m still going to class 3+ years later.

So why I like it:
* When I had high blood pressure, enormous amount of life stress, and overall was a mess I was told by a number of doctors, including a very sweet doctor in the ER, that I needed to do yoga. Here’s the rub. I hate yoga. That’s a bit harsh. I don’t HATE it. I’ve actually had a very good time at yoga classes when I’ve gone with friends (including the same friend who took me to Bar). I’m just NO good at it. I can’t mentally get into the ohm-ing/meditation part. Even worse, I’m the least flexible person you know. I can’t even do downward facing dog correctly. My heels won’t go all the way to the ground. If that is difficult for me imagine what the rest of yoga class is like. Bar Method gives me that meditative time out my stressful life needs. As much as I’m sure I’d love the verbal group excitement of a class like Zumba I wasn’t lookimg for rambunctious fun. I spend the entire time in Bar Method methodically breathing. I’m talking about the giving birth labor type breathing for the entire hour. This gives me a meditative type calm. Well as meditative as I’m going to get anyway. It also has just enough stretching to piss me off but not make me feel like a loser. Which is the PERFECT amount. With Bar Method I feel like I get a sprinkle of yoga and therefore it’s benefits without making me hang my head in shame due to lack of ability.
* It really does change your body for the better. While swimming I chant two things over and over in my head. one is the lap number I’m on and the other is “lean and long.” Running does not make me lean and long so I’m always trying to find things that will. Bar Method is definitely a lean and long look. While doing round back (sit in a lounge position against the wall w/ your arms up pushing against the bar and one leg at a time lifted as high and straight as possible as you go through a series of leg lifts and such) I will often look at my leg and be impressed with the “lean and long” look. It keeps me going through that horrific exercise! I also love the swimmer without the heaftyness arm/shoulder look I get. I adore swimming. I miss swimming. I wish I was swimming right now. I have a list of things I will do once I get a job again and have money … swimming is on that list. What I don’t like about swimming is after a week I look like a linebacker for the Ravens. No man likes a women whose shoulders are broader than theirs. Bar Method gives me the fit upper body look without looking like I need to throw on some gear and hit the field. I’d like to say I lost a zillion pounds but I haven’t. I’ve gotten fitter, no doubt about it, but I’m not a tiny petite doe. Others have lost weight so look to them for that. I blame traveling over the past year. I missed a number of classes and on top of that feasted on wine and nachos for comfort while on the road.
* I love feeling like a ballerina even if it is for a few minutes. Those few minutes only happen when I put on my ballet shoes and anytime I “point my toe strongly.” Pointing my toe is really the only ballet I’ve ever mastered. All in all I have the grace and flexibility of an elephant. No worries. In my head I’m magnificent!
* It’s never easy. I’m always hurting. I know it isn’t the best thing for your body to do the same exercise all the time. Your body gets use to it and you are only working those specific muscles the same way over and over. I figure my hiking and other activities work well sprinkled in between my Bar Method classes. Not to mention I’m always hurting after class. Sometimes not hurting a lot but always hurting somewhere! Although every class is similar and follows the same outline each is different and those little differences, when done correctly, can really hit different muscles and/or work them diffently. That means ouch. The good ouch.
* The people are nice. That’s all I have to say about that. Nice people are cool.
* The teachers are extremely helpful. I need help. Serious, serious help. I hate doing something and knowing I’m doing it incorrectly but not knowing how to fix it. The teachers at Bar Method will help you fix your form. What’s the point of paying hard-earned cash, getting in some stretchy pants, driving to a studio, and going through the motions if you aren’t going to benefit from it because you are doing it wrong? One time I was walking back to my car and a woman stopped me. She had just been in class with me and asked if I benefited from the exercise. When I told her I had she said she didn’t feel anything and felt like she needed to go to the gym now to get a workout. Since at that moment every muscle in my butt and legs were still shaking I responded, “you are doing it wrong.” That leads me to my final point …
* The classes are as hard as you want them to be. The teacher will be there to help and push you but really it is up to you. You know when you can feel it and when you are cheating yourself. I’m not saying that is bad. Maybe rhythmic breathing for an hour is all you can emotionally do today. Fine. Tomorrow be ready to get your booty kicked!

So I know you love your Zumba, your Cardio Barre, your ExtremeSpin, your Antigravity Yoga, your P90X and on and on. I love my Bar Method.

Psst … Come Here (For Real This Time)

15 Tuesday Jan 2013

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Psst … come here … just come here … don’t look around … I SAID DON’T LOOK.ry=400  I want to tell you something.

I swear to you that a good number of businesses I pass on a daily basis are fronts for some money laundering or drug mob thing.  I mean come on.  I know the cost of a candle and the average rent of a store front and it just doesn’t add up.   One reason why I like it … math doesn’t lie.  I’m actually scared crapless of the stores and people in my neighborhood so I refuse to call any of them out by name.  Please don’t hurt me.

BUT I don’t live in Pasadena so it’s safe to call out one there right?  There is this bar next to a bar next to the Bar Method studio I go to (it’s actually insane how many bars are between where I park and the studio.  It’s just constant temptation to skip working out and enjoy a delicious gin and tonic instead) that I SWEAR has something shady happening.  I’m now convinced it is the hang out/business location of the Pasadena mob.  I don’t know exactly who and what makes up the Pasadena mob but I’m telling you they exist and can be found at the bar next to the bar by my Bar Method studio.  Why do I think that?  Well first of all there is ALWAYS a table reserved in the corner of the patio and 99% of the time it has one or more people sitting at it that I would not want to meet in a dark alley.   I’m sure they are perfectly wonderful and nice people (I said that just in case they are reading this and are thinking of putting me on some kind of “to kill” list) it’s just odd that no matter the day or temperature they are out there smoking, chatting, drinking, and going over paperwork.  Secondly, there are rarely a lot of people in the place.  Maybe I’m just walking by at odd times but I did eat there once (actually kinda nice) and it wasn’t very packed then either.  Finally it has a vibe.  An “you can come in and drink/eat here but we couldn’t care less one way or the other” vibe.

Mob I tell you.  It’s so weird.  Almost as weird as the homeless guy who hangs out on Colorado with his cat.  You heard me … his cat.  He has a cat!  His cat sits in his lap or next to him or alone on his blanket while his dad asks for money or leftovers from those holding Cheesecake Factory bags.  Give him the leftovers.  He has a trained cat for goodness sakes.  That’s impressive.

Psst … Come Here

15 Tuesday Jan 2013

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Before I start I feel like I should finish off yesterday’s post about hiking off leash.  It’s crazy and annoying that it’s illegal to have your dog off leash while hiking most mountain trails.  It’s a mountain.  What’s going to happen?  If you are a responsible dog owner (pick up the poop) and your dog is a well-behaved hiker (doesn’t wander too far off trail, continually checks in with you, and doesn’t harm fellow hikers) why can’t he/she be off leash?  I think I made a good case for how a dog is better behaved off leash in my last post so let me just add that it is not easy to hike with a dog leash in your hand.  It’s actually a royal pain in the bum.

I realize that those who want dogs on leash are technically, according to the law, in the right.  My question is why.  Are you afraid of dogs?  Fair enough.  I understand (I really don’t but I feel like I have to say that to win you over to my side).  Let me tell you how to safely pass a dog on a trail.  Walk by them.  That’s it.  Don’t look at them.  Don’t acknowledge them.  Just walk by them.  If a dog is off leash on a trail you aren’t the first human he/she has passed.  Frankly an off leash dog is the least of your ry=400animal/insect worries on a mountain hike.  Let me ask you what you would rather come across, a pack of domesticated dogs off leash or a gaggle (who knows what the real group term is) of blood sucking ticks.  AAAH.  I JUST GROSSED MYSELF OUT.  Ticks are EVIL vampire beings.  Blah.  So disgusting.  Do you remember that episode of House when that girl was really sick and no one knew why, except House who decided she had some gross tick related disease?  Then the pretty doctor (who is now a firefighter on another show) said that they checked everywhere and she didn’t have any ticks.  Then House raised an eyebrow and said, “everywhere.”  Then they checked and she had a tick on her who-haw!  AAAAAAHHHHHHH!!!!!  CAN YOU IMAGINE?????  If I ever have a tick on my who-haw kill me.  Seriously I will not be able to go on knowing that happened.  Glah.

This post has gotten widely off topic.  I need to start again ….

Walk This Way

14 Monday Jan 2013

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photo (1)This past weekend it has been FREEZING in LA.  I don’t care what others in the country think about that statement.  IT’S FREEZING.  We are not built for this cold weather.  I swear the only insulation my house has is whatever rat poop found its way into the walls and 90% of my coats are decorative (aka useless).  I can guarantee its warmer in your house in Minnesota than it is in my house in Los Angeles right now.  I’m frozen solid.

Anyway, since it’s ridiculously cold I went up Runyon with Riggins in the afternoon instead of the morning this past weekend.  I haven’t done that in forever.  New group of people!  Walking through the dirt parking lot I passed 3 young men.  One yelled out at me, “you look like you are a really good mom to that dog.”  He went on to say I looked very attractive and was sweet so he is my new BFF and I’ve decided afternoons are a much better time to hike!

As a good mom to my dog (he said it not me) I thought I’d pass on some of my walking/hiking knowledge to you!  At no charge!  Let me start by saying I am not a trained animal person but I have seen a number of “Dog Whisper,” “It’s Me or the Dog,” and “My Cat from Hell” so I feel like that, along with my own street smarts, is training enough.  Maybe we shouldn’t consider this real “rules” as much as “what Wendy thinks.”

Walking a dog on leash – My view is don’t do it if you don’t have to.  Dogs are crazy on leash.  In general a dog will want to protect his/her master and tethering the dog to you only makes that protective instinct worse.  When Riggins is bad on leash it’s because he perceives the crazy person/dog passing us to be a threat to me causing the guttural growl that translates into, “don’t mess with my Mama.”  I know very very sweet dogs that are a**holes on leash and being walked by their master.  (This is a good time to stop and say all my dog’s bad behavior and problems are my fault.  Isn’t that the first thing you learn in all those TV shows … it’s always the humans.)  Best to walk/hike in a location that allows off leash.  Of course you have to walk on leash most of the time so here are my tips:

* Get rid of that retractable leash.  Seriously.  I realize a good number of my friends use this type of leash.  I dare you to find one trained (aka not me) dog person that says walking on a retractable leash is ok.  They won’t.  It’s impossible to control a dog on that kind of leash.  Get a lead.

* Stop the sled dogs!  Don’t walk a dog with a harness on that allows him/her to pull with his/her full weight.  All dogs instantly become sled dogs in a harness.  Big or small you are just asking that animal to pull.  Use whatever equipment gives you control of the dog.  Riggins uses what I call his “walking harness.”  He hates it because he knows if he is bad it pulls around his arms … so don’t be bad.  (his looks kinda like this – http://www.amazon.com/Guardian-Gear-Harness-Large-Black/dp/B007E4S750)

* Why the giant stick weirdo?  Almost every person in my neighborhood walks their dog while holding a giant stick.  I assume to ward off other dogs from attacking theirs.  I’ve walked Riggins in this neighborhood for 6 years and NEVER ONCE had a dog attack either one of us.  Once — just once — a giant pitbull made it out of his gated backyard and came running toward Riggins and me at full force.  I stopped, held my ground, held up a “stop sign” with my hand and said “OFF.”  This was followed by a “SIT” (with appropriate hand single) and “GO HOME.”  The giant scary dog did exactly what I said.  EXACTLY.  Turns out that “scary dog” was really well trained (even if his humans didn’t know how to secure a gate).  This isn’t always going to happen.  I’ve known dogs to fight and know dogs and humans that have been hurt in the exchange but you carrying a stick really only makes it worse.  DO YOU KNOW HOW SCARY IT IS TO SEE A HUMAN COMING AT YOU THE OTHER WAY WITH A GIANT STICK????  Seriously — you are asking for it.

* Walk pretty.  This is what I tell Riggins he has to do.  Walking pretty means beside me and a 1/2 step behind me.  Riggins is a champ at this (as long as it’s me walking him, he hasn’t seen a squirrel, cat or chicken — it’s happened — and doesn’t have to poop).  He often gets told he is a “good dog” from strangers when we are on a walk and  he is on his best behavior.  I really think what helped him most with this was having him run with me when he was younger.  I held the leash in a way that he had to pace right next to me and after a while of constant pace he had no choice but to fall in line.  A pooped dog is a well behaved dog!  That and a short leash.  A short leash just makes it easier for you to control your dog.  I use one that is a mix of long and short like this, http://www.arcatapet.com/item.cfm?cat=15069.

* Keep out-of-the-way!  This is going to be one not everyone will agree on but I read it somewhere and it makes sense to me.  When walking a dog and another dog is being walked coming at you the dogs should both be on the inside so that they pass one another with no human in between.  Looking from the front it would be, from left to right, human, dog, dog, and human.  I know this is a killer for some but a well behaved dog should have no problem with this.  Remember that a dog tethered to his/her master is going to be more aggressive with his/her “save my human” mentality.  If you, the fragile human, put your body between your dog and the other dog doesn’t it make sense that your dog will go crazy trying to get over and protect you.  If everyone remains calm two dogs can pass each other, quickly sniff, and move on.  Riggins gets a C+ on this.  He has NO PROBLEM when we are walking the neighborhood as long as the other dog doesn’t bark first.  Riggins is the anti-alpha so he waits to see how the other dog reacts.  Unless the other dog is tiny.  He will walk past a tiny barking dog like it’s nothin’.  He is also REALLY BAD at this when walking in certain locations like around the lake at Silver Lake (this is LA so it isn’t a lake as much as a reservoir with a giant chain link fence all around it).  Riggins learned to walk on my right side and come hell or high water that is what he is going to do around the lake.  That leaves him smashed between me and the small concrete burm/chain link fence.  I’ve tried to get him to the other side when dogs pass and have even pushed his butt over to make that happen but it doesn’t last long.  Luckily he is perfectly happy in his safe smushed position and really never even notices the other dogs on that walk.

* Lots of dogs are good.  My neighborhood has a good number of dogs but they are house dogs and don’t do much more than sit at home and walk around the block once in a while.  Their owners cross the street or go up a driveway or walk in someones lawn to get away from the big black dog and crazy woman coming at them on the sidewalk with no intention of moving.  In short most of the dogs aren’t socialized.  Silver Lake, for example, is dog heaven.  Most dogs are pack dogs and being with others is good for them.  Riggins is always much better behaved when on a walk in a high dog populated area.  When off leash and on a hike Riggins will happily fall in line behind whatever group of dogs he can find.

* Be cool man.  You want your dog to freak out?  You freak out.  Nothing annoys me more at the dog park than when two dogs get a little aggressive in their play and from all around the park you hear “NO NO NO NO NO, OFF OFF, NO , CHARLIE COOOOOMMMMMEEEE HHHHHEEEERRE, NO NO NO NO NO” usually in a high-pitched voice.  That only makes things worse.  I think we  can all agree that dogs feed off our energy so keep calm.

Wow this is a long post and I haven’t even gotten to my hatred toward the leash law on hiking trails and really probably lost most of you after the first paragraph so I’ll stop.  One final word.  I know I’ve been very lucky.  As much as I believe dogs can be trained and well-behaved I realize this isn’t always the case and a dog is an animal that, at any moment and for any reason, can use his/her teeth for evil.  After writing all this I’m probably going to be eaten by a labordoodle on my next walk.  If that happens I leave everything to Riggins.

Rad – No Matter What the Year

11 Friday Jan 2013

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20130111-181221.jpg I’m heading off to a friends house for the evening. After a heavy sigh I think I should get out of the costume I’ve worn all day and put on some big girl pants. Then I think, nah … Love me love my leggings.

If wearing thigh high sparkly leg warmers is wrong I don’t want to be right!

Flies Like Honey?

11 Friday Jan 2013

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Sweet as Pie“You catch more flies with honey.”  That’s what they say.  I hate “them.”  Self riotous weirdos.  Alas it’s a saying for a reason (do you realize how long it took me to understand the saying “you drive me to drink”?  One evening, in the not so distant past, I took a sip of Cabernet and the light bulb went on …. oooooh!  You drive me to drink!  I get it.)

This leads me to my new online dating thinking.  It’s not so much new as recently become more clear to me.  You see now that I’m not flying all over the US every week (once did 5 planes and one train in 3 days) I actually have time to have a social life — gasp!  I’m really very excited.  Now if I can only get someone to go out with me.

I’ve always had luck with online dating (despite what you may have read in past posts — I’m defining luck with actually going on a date with a human.  It’s a very general and open definition).  I have more than one friend who have met their “special one” through dating sites and honestly feel that it is the “go to” in the 201Xs.  (I just wrote something mean about where my male friends find dates but then deleted it —- see —- I’m trying — honey=flies.)

There are a number of things going against me now.  My age – which is terribly young, don’t get me wrong.  Just not as young as I was.  The internet has taken away humans ability to socialize and mens willingness to actually go on a date (Dr. Drew agrees with me on this although he blames internet porn.  Works for me.  Damn you porn.)  But what REALLY works against me is me.  You see … I give bad email.  What does that mean?  Well you know me.  You can read what I write (like this brilliant blog post) and think, “That Wendy is Creative, Funny, Witty, and Charming.”  Unfortunately if you don’t know me and read what I write those adjectives become “Harsh, Hurtful, Negative, and Mean.”   Example, I was emailing a “gentleman” (quotes put there on purpose – sigh – baby steps) whose last email described how he had taken a young woman (15ish years his jr) to Hawaii for new years, on a whim.  Sadly, it did not work out as he was now in Hawaii alone for the actual New Years Eve celebration.  Seems the young woman only wanted to text on her phone and in a fit of unhappiness demanded to be taken back to the airport abandoning her knight in shining armor.

Now let’s step aside for a second and think about her …. ARE YOU KIDDING ME????  I’m pretty confident I could find a way to have fun in Hawaii with ANYONE.  Seriously anyone.  Name someone one … yup …. I could have a good time with him/her.  Here’s the thing I learned a long time ago.  I’m an adult.  I can not get stranded somewhere I don’t want to be (in the civilized world that is).  If I’m not having fun with you at Hawaii hotel A fine … then I’m off to Hawaii hotel B.  IT’S HAWAII.  I’ve been to Hawaii by myself and had a BLAST!!!  It’s obvious this girl has no imagination.

Now back to him.  I wrote back what I thought was a nice email but COME ON …. I HAD TO POINT OUT HE DESERVED WHAT HE GOT.  You brought a young-un, who you barely knew, to Hawaii and didn’t get the magical New Years you expected?  Color me surprised.  I can’t be held accountable for telling him that.  Seriously.  I expect he heard it already from any friend/family member he communicated with.  It wasn’t the ONLY THING I said in my email response …. but it was said.  Needless to say I never heard from him again.  (Based on the email exchange we did have it is possible he just got distracted by something shiny and it really had nothing to do with my email …. but I’ll never know.)

So!  Turning over a new email leaf.  All dating site emails will be put through the “stupid girl” filter.  Don’t look at me like that.  A girls gotta do what a girls gotta do.  I’ll have to save my sharp wit for later … perhaps date 10ish.

XOXOXO AND SUGAR,

Wendy

And … I’m back!

10 Thursday Jan 2013

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Riggins at Echo Mtn.I just got dog ear cleaning liquid in my mouth.  Not tasty.

I’ve been gone for so long I don’t even know where to start.  I’m tempted to just leave it at those first two lines.  Seems poetic.  I guess that would be mean … such a tease.  Let me get you caught up on the past 1+ year.  I started a new job and then quit that job.  The year was full of travel, hotel food, depression meds, and lots of wine.  I find depression meds have more effect when taken with alcohol.  I’m sure Dr. Drew would agree and condone that.

I’m now completely unemployed.  S C A R Y !!! (scary — I had to write that without the spaces to see if it came up on spell check as being incorrect.  It looks wrong doesn’t it?  Oh well.  WordPress accepts it, I accept it.)  It’s interesting (or a sad comment on our society) that when I admit to someone I left my job without a safety net the answer 85% (estimated percentage) of the time is, “Wow.  I wish I could do that.” or “You are so brave.  I’d love to do that.” or other such “you are brilliant Wendy and I want to be just like you” type comments (at least that is how they get translated in my head).  Apparently there are very few people in this world who like their job.  Isn’t that sad?  Well I’m on the search for a job that will make me happy!  If you can think of anything send me a note.  I’m up for anything (almost anything — don’t go all Dirty Jobs crazy on me).

Quick list of what I’ve learned so far in my first full week of unemployment:

  • Hiking every morning and going to Bar Method in the evening can really be considered a full day of work.
  • Rice Crispies are crazy delicious and can be eaten for breakfast, lunch, dinner or a tasty snack.
  • Duck Dynasty is oddly entertaining.
  • There is an AMAZING amount of people who don’t work during the day in this city.
  • Generic is just as good as brand name … stop being a snob.
  • You can buy soda in a bottle and pour it over ice yourself.  You really don’t need to go through the closest fast food restaurant drive-thru and order a “large diet coke with extra ice.” (I wonder if they all miss me.)
  • Despite what I’ve said/believed in the past naps are kinda awesome.
  • You can go through an entire day without wishing death on someone.  It’s actually a nice surprise.
  • If I HAVE to I can cook a pretty decent meal.  Add on pt – There is no good recipe/movement/grocery purchasing that works well for a single person.  That means I cook something Sunday and eat it all week.  This really isn’t new I’ve always done this but now I just don’t skip the corners (bake the chicken myself instead of buying one of those pre baked chickens — for example).  I feel like with the social dynamics of the US (or at least Los Angeles/New York) moving toward more singles living their lives happily alone this is a hole that needs to be filled.  Someone get on that.Wendy & Riggins Jan 2013
  • Riggins is the cutest dog in the world (not new information just felt like it needed to be said).

So there you go!  I’m back and hoping to post more wonderful tales soon.

 

The Way to My Heart (aka things you already know)

19 Tuesday Jul 2011

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(I haven’t gone on a rant lately about my love for my dog.  I think it is time!  And I apologize right now.  I tend to get emotional and drop FBombs and other unladylike language when I’m riled up.  So buckle up … here we go!)

You know how they say a way to a man’s heart is through his stomach (do people still say that … my Grandma Newell certainly thought that, she bought me a big ol’ recipe book once to help in my hunt for a man.  I’ve opened that book twice.  Once to see how long to cook a baked potato and once to see how to make pork chops.  The pork chops were a hit … to a man even, until the second time I tried to make them and didn’t have apple juice so substituted with wine.  Don’t look at me like that.  It totally makes sense.  Wine is made from grapes — fruit so it is essentially a fruit juice and people use wine for cooking all the time. The purple pork chops kinda ruined that recipe for me.  Oh I did open it once to figure out what “sear” meant.  I read it, and decided that was a dumb idea and ignored the instruction to “sear” whatever protein had demanded I look it up in the first place.)?  Well the way to my heart is through my family.  Which means Riggins!

Yes despite the local mall and grocery’s parking lot definition my family is not an “adult with children” but an “adult with dog.”  Don’t even get me started on those dumb ass signs … too late I’m started.  How dare you random parking lot for suggesting I’m not a family.  Who the hell do you think you are?  Take your dumb ass 17th century sign and definition and shove it up your ass.  Do black tops have asses?  I don’t care.  Find your ass and shove it up there.  I know I know I shouldn’t take the parking lot sign as an attack about me and my life choices and bad boyfriend luck as they are only trying to make someone’s life easier.  But I do take it personally even if that is not logical.  So they can shove it … well you know.

Whew … I feel better.

Riggins and I are a family and anyone who accepts that IMMEDIATELY becomes my friend.  Riggins is everything.  He is my baby, my friend, my hiking companion, someone who loves me NO MATTER WHAT, and my protector in my not so great neighborhood.  It is because of him and his protection that I have the ability to live where I do and with the freedom I do.  It is because of him that I know my neighborhood as well as I do, know neighbors, and fun/funny/interesting things about the area since we walk that area every day.  It is because of him that I get out of my house to hang out at parks, walk around Silver Lake and see characters (seriously want some good people watching … go take a stroll around the lake), hike Runyon with the stars, and constantly have something to smile about.  If you don’t get that … if that doesn’t make sense to you … if you think that makes me a loony … well too bad for you!

Okay … once I had a date with a guy who picked a place to meet where I could bring Riggins.  I loved him instantly.  He spent the date feeding Riggins mashed potatoes from his fork.  Riggins jumped up and lounged on his lap peaking up at me as if to say, “I choose this guy …” Turns out he loved Riggins, and not so much me.  And to be honest loved Riggins a bit too much … and this is  ME saying this.  So I suppose you can go too far.

I was recently asked a question on Eharmony, Match, I forget which, about my relationship with animals (pets).  I ignored all the suggested responses and typed in, “I love my dog more than most people.”  Was it perhaps off-putting for me to type that?  Probably.  I don’t care.  Better you know now.  It was the first time I actually liked one of those silly get to know you cookie cutter question.  I liked the guy for asking.

You know what actor I love the most?  More than any other? Eriq La Salle.  Eriq La who?  Salle.  AKA that African-American dude from ER.  I LOVE HIM.  Why?  All because of his interactions with Riggins.  One day, years ago, I was on Runyon with Riggins.  We go almost every weekend and, in his mind, the hill now belongs to him.   He doesn’t stay next to me during our hike.  OOOOOOOHHHHHHH NO!  He’s got places to go and people to see.  He is, usually, ahead of me checking out whatever there is to check out or forcing someone to pet him.  Most of the time he will run pretty far ahead of me (I know this annoys other people there but I’m sure you are not shocked to find out my response is “tough toodles”) then will stop and hang out looking back until he sees I’m safely coming up the path before taking off full speed again.  One day I saw this very tall man leaning over yelling at Riggins.  My mom, “don’t F with my baby”, attitude kicked in and I stormed toward the duo ready to TAKE THAT ASSHOLE DOWN.  As I got closer I realized it was Eriq La Salle.  Now I’ve had run ins with celebrities on Runyon before.  Because … well … frankly … most are douches.  More stories for another post.  So I got closer ready to let Eriq feel the Wendy wrath!  Just before opening my mouth to take the man down I realized he was trying to stop Riggins from eating poo.  ERIQ LA SALLE STOPPED RIGGINS FROM EATING POO!  Isn’t that awesome!?!  He was looking out for Riggins!  I did a 180 with my attitude and have loved the guy ever since.  When he was on an episode of Covert Affairs last season I made Riggins come in to the TV room to watch.  I explained that it was the nice man from the hill.  I see Mr. La Salle almost every weekend and he is a DELIGHT.  Not only is he super nice to Riggins (which is all you really need to know) both him and his hiking partner (son maybe — although really I have no idea) will nod or say hello and are always happy.  BTW no one says hi on that hill … NO ONE.  Well a few people but most don’t.  Sometimes I make it a game to see how many people I can force to say  hello or good morning to me.  Mr. La Salle and partner never let me down!  I can always count on them.  Nice to me AND Riggins.  How do I find a guy like that?

So there is your hot tip single men of the world.  How do you get me to love you?  Be like Eriq La Salle and not creepy like mash potato dude.  Love my dog the perfect amount and understand that he is my family.