Tag Archives: Dragon

Super Bowl My Way

03 Monday Feb 2014

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I don’t care about football.  Yes Riggins is named after an ex-Redskin football player but that wasn’t my doing.  Blame that on my ex-boyfriend.  Luckily its an adorable name and fits him so there was no need to change it when Riggins and I headed off on our own.  To those under 40 Riggins is better known as one of the leads in Friday Night Lights and that is who everyone assumes he is named after.  My guess is that the FNL Riggins was named after the Redskins John Riggins so I don’t feel like I’m lying when I respond, “yes” when asked if he is named after cutie Tim.

Not originally from LA. Sporting a flower crown.

Not originally from LA. Sporting a flower crown.

Los Angeles, my city, does not have a football team.  We have a baseball team (two if you count Orange County … no one in LA does), a soccer team (or so I hear), a hockey team (two if you count Orange County) and basketball teams coming out of our ears.  Football we got nada.  It’s tragic for people like my dad who LOVE football.  You really have few choices if you are a native (or native-ish) LA-ian when it comes to who to cheer for.  Those who migrated here will vote for whatever team is from their home city.  Those of us that were born (or nearly born) here have to choose our team.  Some go for the ex LA, now St. Louis, Rams.  Others go for the less obvious ex LA, now Oakland Raiders.  The Rams were part of LA for a long time, 1946-1994 (I had to look that up).  If you are true to this city, like my dad, then you hate the team that deserted you (like my dad).  It doesn’t matter who is playing against the Rams my dad wants that team to win.  The Rams left him high and dry and he is hurt by this fact and no amount of time will ease his pain.  Most of us slide on down to San Diego and cheer on the Chargers.  Still others randomly pick a team based on friend loyalty and/or team colors.

Dragon and Krissy

Dragon and Krissy

The Super Bowl to me is a time to chat with friends and eat a bunch of bad for you stuff.  That is what I did.  I went to my friend’s Super Bowl party fully prepared to watch the game.  Honestly I gave that up before it even started.  I had brought Dragon over with me to enjoy the festivities.  He’s a good party companion.  We started in the garage/back yard (aka the main TV viewing location) but then I got hungry and I wanted to see what new food had appeared so I headed to the kitchen.  Someone brought taquitos and I had to have some of those so I hovered around there for a bit.  Then I wanted my phone, to take pictures of Dragon in party mode.  I had to go into the kids room where my purse was and got involved in a conversation about whatever cartoon was on TV.  I took some pictures of Dragon and sat back down to watch the game only to realize I had left my giant bottle of sparkling water in the kitchen so I had to go back to get that but on the way I cruised by the bar and saw that someone had brought pre-mixed margarita drinks.  I’m not one to say no to a margarita so I poured myself one of those and forgot all about my water and sat back down.  Then I remembered my water and got back up and realized they were watching the game in the

Dragon and a cup full of margarita.

Dragon and a cup full of margarita.

living room which was way warmer and less crowded with better sight lines then the garage/back yard.  So I sat down.  Then some new friends showed up and I had to head to the kitchen to chat with them.  This went on from the time I got to the party around 2:30 until I left after the game about 7:30.  I figure the cardio I did walking back and forth gobbled up some of the taquito calories.

Anyway … that’s how I celebrate the Super Bowl.  I can’t tell you many details about the game except that Bruno Mars is adorable and tiny enough to fit in my pocket, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers don’t give a crap about the cold they need to be shirtless, and that the bird team beat the horse team by a lot.  Obviously I should be a sports announcer.

Doggie Happy Ending

07 Tuesday Jan 2014

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Bob

Bob

I got myself into a real pickle during the holidays.  My goal was to wake up really early on Dec. 24th and head out to my folks.  I was stopping at my friend’s house on the way to drop off Morgan (poodle).  He had been with me but my friend’s neighbor was going to watch him for the next couple of days.  To get to my friend’s house I have to drive down a pretty busy street.  I was at a stoplight when a little dog came darting out into traffic and happily strolled to the other side.  He looked like he was in good spirits and stopped at everyone waiting at the bus stop and on the street to say hi.  I told myself that someone else would help him and then knew they wouldn’t so did a u-turn and headed back.

I knelt down a few feet away from the black and white scruffy terrier mix and he came right up to me.  Happy as can be.  While I looked around to see if anyone close knew him a mom and daughter came up to me.

Sparky

Sparky

“Do you like dogs?” the daughter asked.  It was hard to say no since I had two in my car and another in my arms.  “Yes.” I replied.  “Do you want ours?” she asked.  What????  Turns out the grandpa had gotten the family a chihuahua and pets weren’t allowed where they rented.  I gave them my card and told them if they still needed help after Christmas to call me and I would help find their dog a new home.

Meanwhile, I popped the scruffy dude, who I started calling Bob, into the car and drove toward my friend’s house.  Without much open during the holiday and not many options I left the stranded dog in my friends backyard with food and water.  I figured it was a better location than the street and I would come pick him up on my way home the next evening.  Of course Bob wasn’t happy about this and caused such a ruckus that my friends neighbor took him in for the night.

The evening of the 25th I picked up Bob and started a search for his family.  On the 26th I picked up Sparky, the homeless chihuahua.  Now I had two homeless dogs in my house plus my own and those I was sitting.  Bob was a charmer and was no problem at all.  He got along with everyone and was happy to hang out with me.  Unfortunately he had no collar, no chip, no one knew him, and there were no signs for him up in the neighborhood or online.  Luckily, he was so good at being a loving dude that the family who had watched him Christmas eve fell in love and ended up adopting him.  Whew … one down.

Sparky with friends

Sparky with friends

Sparky was another story.  That dude was trouble with a capital T.  He hated me and all the other dogs and would be really happy to kill us with his itty bitty sharp little teeth.  My first night with Sparky I was at my wit’s end.  He was a devil dog and I had no faith that he would ever be adopted.  He had never been to a vet so had no shots and was not fixed.  As a 6 month old he was still a puppy that could learn to socialize if he just wasn’t such an ass.  I sat down at the computer and pleaded my case to any and every pet rescue group that was out there.  I learned pretty fast that no one would touch him.  I was told over and over that I would have to get him fixed and foster him.  Given his current attitude and my lack of income this was just impossible.  I was really scared that I might have to bring Sparky to the shelter.  I knew he was screwed if that happened since he wasn’t really adoption material.  Who wants a tiny monster that wants to rip you to pieces living in their house?

I kept him in a crate in the hallway where he could see the action.  Then I ignored him except for a couple torturous bathroom breaks.  Chihuahuas like attention so ignoring them usually is not okay with them at all.  24 hours Sparky stayed in that crate with the door closed and locked.  Then I opened the door and he stayed in it for another 12 hours or so growling at anyone who dared come near him.  Dragon was pretty happy with the “let’s piss off Sparky” game which consisted of him slowly getting closer until Sparky reacted and then gleefully running back and starting all over again.  I continued to ignore him.  That evening Sparky very slowly came out of his cage and carefully came up on my lap.  After that he was my BFF and loved me and all the dogs in the house.  He figured out playing with other dogs was big fun and, unlike the others, he was small enough to fit under the bed for sneak attacks.

Jack

Jack

At the same time a few groups finally gave me some hope.  By working directly with one of their volunteers that was a friend of a friend Dogs Without Borders offered to get Sparky fixed.  That was a huge win and raised my spirits.  LUXE Paws actually found a foster for him but it was no longer necessary since I had gotten a call from a woman who was Sparky’s savior!  Sheila Choi of the Fuzzy Pet Foundation had contacted me and her group was willing to take Sparky on.  They would get him fixed, get his shots up to date, foster him and get him socialized so he would be ready to find his forever home.  They also do an extensive home check on any folks looking to adopt.  Their goal is to get the dog into a home where he/she will live the rest of their lives.  That is exactly what Sparky needed!  Since talking to Sheila I’ve done more research on her group and I’m extremely impressed with the work they do.  I highly suggest you check them out and, of course, donate to them if you are able.  I’m confident any donations will go to a good cause.  Something I can’t be so sure of for some of the other groups I contacted.

Baby

Baby

At some point during all this I took on two more dogs that needed homes.  This sweet brother and sister pair were orphaned as their human parents had passed away.  As a favor to my very good friend I took them in and kept them while we all worked on getting them homes.  Jack, a yorkipoo, ended up being adopted by Morgan’s folks.  Morgan’s human dad is named Jack and he melted when Jack dog jumped into his lap.  Baby, an Alaskan husky mix, is going to be heading to San Diego to live with a friend.  Until she is picked up she is hanging with my gang and enjoying her daily hikes with her new temporary pack.

Baby with friends

Baby with friends

At one point I had 7 dogs in my house.  1, 2, 3, 4, 5 ,6, 7 (I feel like the count from Sesame Street should be laughing after that).  In case you were wondering that is waaaaay too many dogs to have in your house.  A couple of days ago I was driving down Mulholland on the way to the Laurel Canyon Dog Park and saw a dog walking toward me on the side of the road.  “NO!” I thought.  “NO NO NO NO NO.  I CAN’T DO IT.  NOT ANOTHER ONE.  NOT RIGHT NOW.  PLEASE.  NO.”  Lucky for me it was a coyote and I was able to leave him in his home … outdoors!

Just a note: Sheila of The Fuzzy Pet Foundation would be unhappy with me if I didn’t mention that you should never just hand over a pet that you found to someone.  Bad people who use the dogs for backyard breeding and/or bait dogs troll Craigslist, Facebook, and other places to find victims.  If you have a dog that has lost his home finding his/her original family should be the goal.  If this is not possible make sure the group or person you are giving the dog to will be (or will be the group to find) the perfect forever home for that specific dog and his/her specific needs.

I Like Ike!

15 Tuesday Oct 2013

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photo 1 (2)When I traveled to India one of the things that I found interesting were the street dogs.  I mistakenly called them wild dogs once and was quickly corrected.  I spent hours on the internet reading about the dogs and what is being done to help stop overpopulation.  Since I had opted out of getting a rabies shot prior to my trip (and because I’m not totally insane) I didn’t come face to face with any of the dogs although all I wanted to do was sit down in a pack and cuddle each and every one.  Since then I’ve had a special place in my heart for those street dogs.

When Ike’s folks brought him to come visit me I hadn’t done any research on his breed.  It wasn’t until after I met the energetic love bug that I headed to the computer to check out what exactly a “Potcake” was.

A Potcake is a mixed breed dog that resides in the Turks and Caicos Islands and the Bahamas.  They are named after the food fed to stray dogs by the locals, the “cake” mixture found at the bottom of the rice/pea pots.  Exactly what kind of dog is included in the mix depends on where the dog is from but most are short-haired, can be between 25-60 pounds, and a long face.  Brown is the most typical color although their coats can also include a mixture of black, white, red, cream and yellow.  Technically mutts-mixed breeds (my favorite kind of breed) the Potcake is a recognized breed on it’s own by the Bahamas Kennel Club.

On the street Potcakes only live about 7 years and are only about 25 pounds.  Domesticated in a happy home their lifespan is similar to other dogs of their size (approx 13 years) and are a healthier weight.

photo 3Ike is the only Potcake I’ve ever watched but if he is the norm for the breed I’m sold!  Ike is a wonderful dog.  Very energetic so needs exercise but is really smart and very loyal and loving.  Ike did not like it when single men ran by us on the trail.  If they got too close he told them so.  Ike spent all his free time near me and, preferably, on my lap cuddling.  When hiking or at the dog park he always stopped to check in with me, make sure I was close, and that I was alright.  He got along wonderfully with all other dogs no matter age and energy level.  He could easily go nose to nose with Bear who is a vocal and rough playmate.  He was also just as happy sleeping while spooning Riggins (as long as Riggins would allow such silliness).  Although protective of me he never scolded or barked at my other dogs (like Dragon does).  He was part of the pack not the leader and looked to me to fill that role.

photo 2If you are looking to get a dog I always suggest rescue.  If you are looking to adopt, much like human children, I believe there are plenty of loving babies (dogs and humans) close to home that need you.  BUT if you want to reach out to adopt a dog then a Potcake is something to definitely look in to.  From my very minimal research it looks like the loyalty, intelligence, and love Ike showed is typical.  It is like they know you saved them from living on the streets and they are thankful for all you do for them.  They do need someone who can be a pack leader and who is willing to keep them active so definitely keep that in mind.  If you are looking for a mild-mannered lap dog who sleeps all day a Potcake isn’t for you!

Ike’s mom works with BAARK – Bahamas Alliance for Animal Rights and Kindness.  They have a spray and neuter program for the street dogs of the Bahamas and also help rescue dogs and find them homes.  Ike’s mom told me that there are a number of these type of organizations that will help adopt Potcakes to loving families in Canada and the US.  Keep BARRK and Ike in mind when you are thinking of what kind of pooch you would like to make part of your family!

The Most Delicious of all the Corns

02 Wednesday Oct 2013

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I love corn.  It’s simply delicious.  On the cob, topping my salad, popped, anyway you want to make it and give it to me, I’m all in.  I seriously considered going to the movies today JUST so I could get some movie popcorn.  Remember a year or so ago when some scientist health freak type people got on the internet and started bad mouthing my precious corn?  Something about it being a “bad” vegetable.  Too much starch or something.  Lumping it in with the also delicious potato?  I refused to listen.  Leave my corn alone!  LEAVE IT ALONE!  It still goes in the “fruit and vegetable” section of the food pyramid right?  Then zip your pie hole internet.

photo 1 (1)Of all the corn deliciousness there is one that stands out … candy corn.  Ok.  Technically it is not corn at all but it is good enough to proudly carry the “corn” name so it gets to be part of the club.  There are few things more exciting than knowing that October is here and candy corn will be gracing the isles of every grocery store in the US (technically it is always there year round but now it’s in your face … where it belongs).  Saturday I wasn’t feeling well so to pep myself up I bought a bag of yumminess.  I haven’t purchased a bag in years.  You know why?  I eat it.  That’s why.  And I did.  Wow was it delicious.  Today I finished off the last 16 oz. all by myself.  When I say today I mean this morning for breakfast.  The bag of open candy corn sat on my counter for the past few days and I’d happily take a few pieces every time I walked by.  For 5 glorious days I’ve been riding a sugar high that has been amazing.  My taste buds are dulled to any other taste beyond “sugar,” my eyes water a little, slight gagging in the back of my throat, slight eye twitch.  All signs of sugar overdose that causes you to grab more and stuff it in your face (or in the case of candy corn carefully eat off each color starting with white and ending with yellow).  I gotta have it man.  The bag is like a magnet to my soul and just draws me in.

In this world there are two types of people.  Those who worship at the candy corn gods and those who dismiss them with a shake of the head.  I just don’t understand the “no thanks” people.  What is wrong with you?  It’s a delicious sugar treat shaped somewhat like a giant corn kernel with festive fall coloring.  How horrible was your childhood that you can’t see the goodness in a piece of candy corn?

Granted I can’t give candy corn a pass and say it’s healthy.  Although it is fat-free so that has to count for something ,…. right?  Right????  A serving size (24 pieces although they should just measure by the handful it would make it a lot easier) has 150 calories, sodium, carbs, and sugar.  All other “nutrition” is 0%.  Exactly what you want from a piece of photo 2 (2)sugary goodness.  So the words “glaze” and “wax” are included in the ingredient list.  So what?  What are you doing looking at the back of a candy corn package in the first place.  Stop being such a square and eat it already.  Enjoy the sugar high with me!

(Gotta catch you up on the dogs that have visited over the past few days.  Dragon was here for an extended weekend and Asscher has been here during the days this week.  New faces, Odo a lab mix, stayed for the long weekend too and Chief, a lab, spent Sunday with us.  I’ve included some pictures so you can see how adorable they are.)

Pain in the Side

26 Thursday Sep 2013

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After this week of Bar Method I have a serious ache in all the muscles around my mid section. A good ache. Every once in a while the instructor says “at the bar” and I’m giddy! Stretch “at the bar.” Pretzel “at the bar.” Curl “at the bar.” All the “at the bar” options target different muscles or the same muscles deeper, than their non bar sibling. Early this week we had an “at the bar” day and my waist muscles still hurt. There is nothing better than feeling like you worked that horrible mid section” area. That big blobby area between your boobs and your hips.

I’m a wimp during certain exercises or stretches until the instructor tells me it targets and slims my waist. Then I’m all in. Lay down and cross your right leg over your left. Grab your ankles and lift them up to you ears than down. Ummmm. I’ll pass. Until she tells me it will slim my waist and then I’m happy to contort myself into the ridiculous pose! Those are my magic words!

I don’t feel like you understand my pain so this is what I would like you to do. Head to the closest Bar Method class. This requires some of you to fly to the US or Canada. Worth it. Then keep going to class until you hit an “at the bar day.” It isn’t a popular teacher choice so it could take a while. No worries. It will give you time to perfect your technique. Then call me the next day so we can talk about how it now hurts to breathe.

What I do for beauty. It’s amazing.

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Please Send Soap

20 Friday Sep 2013

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image (22)I really wish this was a smell-o-vision blog post.  I really need you to fully understand how badly I stink (or stank, to be more specific).  Last night after Bar Method class (where I sweat like it’s my job) I came home and did some chores.  Finally I drug myself into the shower only to find I was out of body wash.  Kind of a relief really.  I had taken a shower earlier in the day and how clean can a person be?  I did a quick rinse and got ready for bed.  This morning I woke up and put on my hiking gear and headed up Runyon with the dogs.  Looking back I realize I missed the step where you put on deodorant.  When Dragon showed up he immediately peed on me.  I guess he owns me now.  I changed my hiking pants but really just toweled off the pee.  I was going to Runyon where the entire hill smells like dog pee.  I’d fit right in.  After a long and sweaty hike, which included me getting down on my knees in dirt and filth to get pictures of the puppers I headed back to the car.  Instead of immediately heading home to take a shower I went downtown to the Paws/LA headquarters to drop off some donated art for their fundraiser.  When I was finally heading back home it hit me.  I smelled.  Not good.  I smelled BAD.  It was somewhat amazing.  I’m shocked the dogs would even come near me.  Once home I ran in and took a shower using shampoo as body wash.  A girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.  I rarely use perfume and never do if I’m just at home alone, but I felt it necessary to spray a mist of vanilla scent on before getting dressed again.  Whooo weeeee.  Smeeeellly.

Since I can’t take pictures of my smell and technology has yet to allow me to send a horrific scent to you via blog post you will have to settle of adorable pictures of the dogs from this week.  Enjoy!  Pictured:  Riggins (you know him), Asscher (golden retriever), Morgan (poodle), and Dragon (schnauzer)

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Dogs Rule

17 Tuesday Sep 2013

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RIGGINS - photo by Lori Fusaro

RIGGINS – photo by Lori Fusaro

Over the past few days I’ve come to accept something you may have already known. I’m a speciest. That’s like a racist or sexist but for species. Specifically I like dogs WAY better than people and hold them to much different standards. It’s kinda like when one of your “friends” posts something on Facebook and you think, “OMG what a looser … so annoying.” Then another friend posts something similar a few minutes later and you happily give it a “thumbs up” simply because of who they are. Let me give you a few dog vs. human examples:

Jax, like many dogs I watch, follows me around the house. If I move, he moves. I love it. I feel like Snow White being helped by her adoring animal friends. If a guy I was dating did that I’d last about 10 minutes before doing a pivot turn meeting him nose to nose and scream “stop being so clingy you freak!”

ASSCHER

ASSCHER

Riggins has very specific sleeping rules. He tends to fall asleep by himself and then wanting to come up and be with me on my bed in the early morning hours. Instead of just coming on up and helping himself to a pillow he stands by my bed puts his head and chin on the mattress and cries until I wake up. I then must get out of bed for him to be able to jump up and decide on his placement before I get to lie back down again. I do this all with nothing but love in my heart for him. I once wanted to punch my boyfriend in the face because he would set the alarm and then hit snooze about 5 times before getting up … all before I had to rise and shine.

I was driving home from a hike a few weeks ago and saw a man masturbating on someone’s front lawn. A very nice front lawn to a very expensive house. I was in awe. How could that be happening? A human couldn’t possibly be so disgusting. Yet there he was, humping the ground. I was horrified. The other day I wanted to take Asscher’s picture when she got that look at her eye and I couldn’t stop her from jumping up on me and humping away at my leg. I just giggled and pushed her off with an, “Oh Asscher … you are so silly.”

Asscher sometimes doesn’t want to hike. Just yesterday we were heading off just a few feet from the trail head and she stopped. She wasn’t moving. “Okay,” I said gleefully, “we will go to the dog park. Crazy dog! I love you!” If I went hiking with my nephew and he stopped hiking and sat down pouting he’d get a stern talking to and be dragged the rest of the way until he shaped up.

KONA!

KONA!

One night my neighbors little dog was howling and howling. I felt so bad for the poor little thing. Obviously his owner was being horrible neglective of his needs. I didn’t even think to get angry at the dog. It was all the owners fault … without a doubt. (This love for animals didn’t include the rooster this same neighbor once owned. Every morning, multiple times each morning, I’d threaten to kill it and eat that obnoxious bird for breakfast.)

When Lousy wants to crawl up on my lap while I’m typing or Dragon wants to chill out under my desk I’m happy to let them. If a child did that I’d suggest they were being creepy and tell them to go outside and play like normal children.

Kona loved to give me kisses and will happily lick me all over. If you came over and did that too me I’d slap you and immediately take a Silkwood shower to wash off your crazy.

LOUSY

LOUSY

When I’m eating Riggins will sit next to me and take bites off my fork that I happily hold for him (since he has no hands). I would NEVER feed you off my folk. First of all that’s weird and secondly I don’t want your spit on my folk.

So you see. The obvious conclusion is I dislike humans as a species. At least when compared to dogs. (Not all humans of course there are a few exceptions to the rule. A very few exceptions.)

DOGS RULE …. HUMANS DROOL (well dogs do too but when they do it it’s super cute)

Poop Happens

04 Wednesday Sep 2013

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image (7)I think all my shoes have poop on them.  I’m not complaining.  I’m just passing on this observation I had yesterday while getting ready to go to Bar Method class.

If you doggie sit you pick up a lot of poop.  More than you would expect.

I had an ex-boyfriend who stepped in dog poop and was such a whiny weirdo about it he tossed his, not so inexpensive shoes, out the car door and left them by the curb.  If I was such a wimp I’d have to purchase shoes daily.

Sometimes I wish I could just poop wherever I wanted like the dogs do.  They have it so easy.

Don’t you think it is somewhat unfair that you have to pick up dog poop but horses and coyotes can carelessly poop up the trails all they want?  Coyotes should be held accountablephoto (5) for their poop.  With all it’s delicious 1/2 digested berries it is a huge distraction for dogs who are casually walking along and decide they are hungry.

I still believe it when Dr. Drew says dogs mouths are cleaner than humans.  I’ve been on paths with “delicious” coyote poop and dogs and have seen what happens.  STILL I believe him.  THAT is how much I believe in Dr. Drew.  Today is Dr. Drew’s birthday.  HAPPY BIRTHDAY!  Please enjoy these adorable pictures of Riggins, Morgan, Asscher, Dexter and Dragon on your special day.

Not Patient enough for Pretty

25 Thursday Jul 2013

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Table top low curl turned out and with an unamused Dragon.

Table top low curl turned out and with an unamused Dragon.

At one point during the hour of a Bar Method class you get to ab work.  After knee lifts, shoulder work, arm work, stretching, thigh work, more stretching, and butt work, you move to some leg work that also includes your abs and then you move straight into “kill me know” ab work.  A few days ago the instructor, who just happens to be perfect in every visual way, came up to me and put her hands further away from my already outstretched arms in an attempt to make me work harder and get to a higher sit up position.  I grunted and did it and while doing so realized my gross, dirt caked, dog smelling nails were having to touch her perfectly manicured hands.  I was HORRIFIED.  Not horrified enough to fix it as it happened again the next day with another perfect instructor.  Know your faults and be okay with them.  That’s my theory.  One of my faults is my inability to care about some girly grooming activities.  Nails being number one on that list.

Downward facing dog on a dog.

Downward facing dog on a dog.

I just don’t have the time for it.  Do you realize how stressful and boring it is to sit in one ofthose mani/pedi chairs and have someone do it for you?  Gah!  I almost always screw up something on my way out because I don’t have it in me to wait long enough to let them dry.  I envy those lovely ladies who find the activity relaxing and have a standing weekly appointment at their local nail joint.

I don’t know what my problem is.  I’m super girly in other ways.  If it was socially acceptable I’d be wearing a corset right now.  If I was allowed to walk around in a costume from the Moulin Rouge my life would be so much happier.  My theory about heels?  “The higher the better.”  I managed to do some things, like get my eyebrows waxed.  That only takes a few minutes and is an AMAZING transformation from hideous hairy beast to normal human.   Nails?  Nope.  Ain’t got that kind of time.

At one point I worked down the street from a nail place and forced myself to go there during the summer on a regular basis to get my toes done.  I was pretty happy with myself and my toes actually looked good in summer sandals.  Of course I refused to get away from black nail polish, even in the dog days of summer.  It’s the only color that makes sense to me.  Don’t ask for the logic behind that statement.  There is none.

Cutie Kira with her "my nails are prettier than my Aunts" face.

Cutie Kira with her “my nails are prettier than my Aunts” face.

I’ve never gotten my fingers done on a regular basis.  That’s a SERIOUS waste of time. With my active schedule they look like crap in a matter of hours.  Years ago I was in my boss’ office for a meeting.  A boss I actually respected and looked up to.  She was super stressed and eating lunch as we talked.  I noticed her nails.  They were short.  Really short.  I loved them.  I saw it as a powerful nail cut.  Don’t mess with the chick who has the guts to cut her nails super short.  That’s been my style ever since.  No fuss no muss!

My sister often sends pictures of my niece with her nails newly painted.  She’s 4.  A 4-year-old has more patience than me.  Seems about right.

Discovering LA’s Parks

24 Wednesday Jul 2013

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image (19)Last week while taking the long way (aka I got lost) to the Hermon dog park I passed by the LA River Center and Gardens.  Since I was once an avid customer of the LA River bike path I had read about the center a number of times but never really knew where it was.  I was excited to return and check it out.

Monday Riggins, Dragon, and I set off on our adventure.   The park is located near the corner of Ave. 26 and San Fernando.  Unlike other locations in Los Angeles, it has a huge parking lot.  I assume this is to accommodate special events when they are happening but on a typical Monday it was a breeze finding a shady spot.  I was a little nervous walking in with two dogs.  I had my “the web site said dogs were allowed so f* off” speech all ready.  I never had to use it.  The only people we saw were those who were either working on the gardens or in the few nonprofit organizations that reside within the garden buildings (Friends of the Los Angeles River, Northeast Trees, Los Angeles Conservation Corps, and the National Parks Service Rivers, Trails and Conservation Assistance Program.  And yes, I did immediately return home and check their web sites for open positions I could apply for.).  The folks there didn’t seem super happy to have a crazy woman and her two dogs invade their little oasis but they left us alone.

Inside the buildings courtyard is pretty darn amazing.  Oddly enough it reminded me of the Leela Palace in Bangalore that I had visited while I was there.  Except it wasn’t as grand, you couldn’t get an amazingly americanized brunch, and Bangalore wasn’t just outside the gates.  It did share the fact that it is a lovely oasis in the middle of a city (and, if we were being honest, not the best area within the city) with beautiful plants and architecture that gave you a place to get away and just wander around.  The dogs and I did a couple of loops checking out all the nooks and crannies and looking for the perfect photo backgrounds.  Much to Dragon and Riggins dismay there were almost limitless pretty picture options!

photo (16)Just outside the courtyard you will find the bicycle staging area.  It has a drinking fountain, tire pump, and other facilities cyclists may need.  I had expected the center to back up right to the bike path but it doesn’t.  There is train tracks and the actual river between the end of the bike path and the center.  To get there on bike you would have to take some LA streets.  Not my favorite on my bike, but good to know it is there if I ever need it.

Just past the courtyard is the actual River Garden Park.  It’s kinda crappy.  I’m sure it’s amazing when it is clear of weirdos hanging out and the water element is on but that isn’t what we experienced.  It’s tiny and separated from the center so not really a positive or negative addition.

I have to say the courtyard would be an AMAZING location for a special event.  I’ve spent the last hour looking at photos of folks who have had their wedding there.  There is even a beautiful outdoor fireplace and a built-in bar.  It’s designed for a party.  Based on the reviews I read it is crazy expensive.  Still, it would make a wonderful location for my 40th birthday party.  I just need to win the lotto and make a crapload of more friends before next March!

We hadn’t done nearly enough walking to poop out the dogs so on our way home we stopped by another park, Rio De Los Angeles State Park.  What a friggin’ gem that is!  It is image (21)huge, very clean, and pretty.  They have some spectacular playground equipment complete with a water park!  It also has tennis courts, basketball courts, baseball fields, softball fields, soccer fields, and a walking trail.  The dogs and I took the walking trail.  It’s an easy loop that takes you down close to the railroad tracks (and therefore the river).  It has been restored to look like the wetlands the area once was, which makes it another time-out from the city just beyond the gates.  When we were there the majority of folks at the park were on the soccer field.  There were only 2 kids on the play equipment and only 1 very smart child having fun in the water.  I got close to take pictures and couldn’t help but laugh at his happy giggles.  He was having way too much fun.  I wanted to leave the dogs with his nanny (I’m assuming) and go have fun with him!  I honestly don’t know why everyone with kids isn’t there everyday!  My mom suggested perhaps it wasn’t a safe neighborhood.  Ok.  I’ll give you that.  Outside the gates is a bit of a crapshoot.  That area is mostly industrial.  The FedEx joint is next door and the Kia dealership is a bit further down the road.  When I had a crappy Kia that’s where I’d go for service and then walk across the street to this dive burger joint for THE BEST breakfast sandwich of all time.  I was the only woman customer there and the only person that would mark “white” when asked ethnicity on a form but I never felt unsafe.  It is technically on the edge of Glassell Park which isn’t known for its safe and gun free neighborhoods but come on … what neighborhood is really safe?  The park is clean, well-kept up, and oodles of fun.  Just hit the ground if you hear gunshots.