tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-304971392024-03-08T16:58:18.629-05:00Procrastination at its bestI'll be responsible tomorrow.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.comBlogger352125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-4537035748416559482012-09-15T09:45:00.002-04:002012-09-15T09:47:04.736-04:00InspirationAnother "blogger"* friend of mine just posted after a bit of a hiatus, so I was inspired to update as well, if only to get down some perspectives on the second year of vet school.<br />
<br />
For those of you keeping track, there are four years of vet school total. I am currently 25% veterinarian. At the end of this year, I'll be 50% veterinarian and next year (God willing) I'll be performing surgeries (under strict supervision, of course.)<br />
<br />
Holy. Stinking. Crap.<br />
<br />
This year has started off completely differently than the last. I'm four weeks in and I just feel like I have a better outlook overall. I think I spent a lot of last year overwhelmed. Overwhelmed by the sheer amount of material that I was supposed to cram into my brain. Overwhelmed because my brain hadn't had to work really hard in... oh... ever. Overwhelmed because, "what is this "study" thing of which you speak?" Overwhelmed because vet school is so very much like high school and I promised myself after I left my first "real" job that I would never ever go back to that sort of situation. Overwhelmed because I missed my friends. Overwhelmed because I had been in the "real world" for over 10 years, and this? was anything but.
<br />
<br />
This year I've been more proactive. I find the material a bit more interesting, so I'm more engaged. I'm keeping up on studying (and totally impressing the boy with my diligence) and making sure to make flashcards so that my old brain gets the repetition that it needs. I've got my friends in vet school, and while it's still like high school, I'm now comfortable navigating the parts I like and completely avoiding the parts I don't.
<br />
<br />
And, as a side note, after a brief stint in the hospital last semester and the amazing support and assistance that I received from the faculty, I feel like I have friends in the school that are rooting for me and supporting me through every step. That feeling can't really be discounted, you know?<br />
<br />
We haven't had our first test yet, so you might want to check back in with me after September 26th. But this year? I feel like I've found my groove.
To clarify, "groove" does not mean "Emily will be on the Dean's list." "Groove" means that I'll be able to balance my life and school without living in constant stress and misery like last year.<br />
<br />
Keep your fingers crossed :-)<br />
<br />
*I use the term loosely (but with love.)emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-73178594967562364092012-02-13T17:34:00.000-05:002012-02-20T17:39:27.027-05:00BlueI love this picture. Love it. This picture is why the curtains in my house are also blue. And the recliner matches too! Funny enough, the color of the <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2008/06/lots-of-crap-little-apartment.html">recliner</a> was an accident. I <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2007/02/tale-of-two-recliners.html">fought for it</a> without knowing exactly why I loved it so much. Apparently it was because I knew that five years later, it would match my home decor perfectly.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ftLW4L6i9A0/T0LLUAYpuaI/AAAAAAAAA28/rLGclxKJ_9Q/s1600/IMAG0454.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-ftLW4L6i9A0/T0LLUAYpuaI/AAAAAAAAA28/rLGclxKJ_9Q/s320/IMAG0454.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711350822020430242" /></a>emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-24966971395945438462012-02-12T17:39:00.000-05:002012-02-20T17:41:50.639-05:00Inside my ClosetI know that from this angle, it LOOKS like I have a lot of clothes. But really, I have nothing to wear. And my closet is tiny. So it looks like there's a lot. Besides, I'm not embarrassed to show you my clothes. Because there really aren't many. You don't see me showing you where I keep my SHOES, now, do you?<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iBfZHoS8w7o/T0LMD7_U0oI/AAAAAAAAA3I/I6LMY5oMqM4/s1600/IMAG0456.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-iBfZHoS8w7o/T0LMD7_U0oI/AAAAAAAAA3I/I6LMY5oMqM4/s320/IMAG0456.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711351645474181762" /></a>emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-91366619102064236162012-02-11T10:28:00.000-05:002012-02-14T10:38:49.618-05:00Makes Me HappySo... There has been quite a bit going on in the life of Emily besides school lately. Apparently both of my animals have gone insane with very expensive health problems and I had no idea until everything exploded in a mess of stress and animal problems that needed to be solved IMMEDIATELY.<br /><br />That said, Laney was eventually diagnosed with feline idiopathic cystitis. This literally means that Laney has an inflammation of her urinary tract/bladder of unknown origin. So she's feeling bad and peeing inappropriately (which is AWFUL just in case you've never smelled cat pee in your life) and we're not sure why.<br /><br />The veterinarians kept asking me if I had any major upheaval in my life lately. Anything that would stress my cat out? Anything at all? I could think of nothing. The vet mentioned that even something as minor as moving furniture so that the cat could no longer see out the window could be a cause. Because the cat could be stressed, and that is what is manifesting itself into a bladder infection.<br /><br />I could think of nothing at the vet's office. Then I went home and had the sudden memory that I had moved my bookcase away from the window and over to the opposite wall so that A) I could fit a new piece of furniture in my house and B) I would no longer run into my bookcase when I scooted my chair too far back from my desk. Both good reasons, but the end result was that Laney could no longer see out the windows.<br /><br />So I did what any self-respecting, independent, thirty-something girl would do. I called my father and asked him to build a window seat for my cat. He did, it was shipped, I was grateful, and the cat is no longer peeing inappropriately.<br /><br />There was a little bit of uncertainty about whether or not the cat would use the new window seat. Cats are finicky in case you didn't know. But the first day after the new seat was installed, I drove home from school and saw the cat in the window. WOOO HOOOO!!<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HQuEccXsRaY/Tzp_VnkbNtI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/0NHnciembzw/s1600/IMAG0448.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-HQuEccXsRaY/Tzp_VnkbNtI/AAAAAAAAA2Q/0NHnciembzw/s320/IMAG0448.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709015487021266642" /></a><br /><br />So now I run my chair into a cat window seat when I scoot too far back from my desk. I think the cat still rules all.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-69907674370054216962012-02-10T10:27:00.000-05:002012-02-14T10:28:19.158-05:00Self PortraitThe day to take a self-portrait was fitting. It was after two very difficult back-to-back tests. So this is how I spent my exciting Friday evening.<br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0kBaGTuRsPw/Tzp9e2CJFEI/AAAAAAAAA2E/OTOUOiO8IdQ/s1600/IMAG0447.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-0kBaGTuRsPw/Tzp9e2CJFEI/AAAAAAAAA2E/OTOUOiO8IdQ/s320/IMAG0447.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709013446499570754" /></a>emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-35456823161955346432012-02-09T10:27:00.000-05:002012-02-20T17:32:02.319-05:00Front DoorI was going to post a picture of the front door of the vet school. But which makes me more happy? Going into school or going into my house? That's an easy question to answer. (Unlike any on vet school exams, FYI.)<br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eaRpLZ5fl7U/T0LJwcupEZI/AAAAAAAAA2w/e5xZXp41lKA/s1600/IMAG0450.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-eaRpLZ5fl7U/T0LJwcupEZI/AAAAAAAAA2w/e5xZXp41lKA/s320/IMAG0450.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711349111641936274" /></a>emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-43807146073820055612012-02-08T10:13:00.000-05:002012-02-14T10:19:41.901-05:00SunThere was no sun on February 8th. There hadn't been sun in DAYS. So I really had no idea how to interpret this one. But I had a big test on Thursday. So I was studying and had my iTunes on shuffle. And then this song came on. Voila! The Beatles solve everything.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ORgSc0iNttY/Tzp7WWbOrjI/AAAAAAAAA14/KuO_0Enhr88/s1600/IMAG0449.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-ORgSc0iNttY/Tzp7WWbOrjI/AAAAAAAAA14/KuO_0Enhr88/s320/IMAG0449.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709011101552651826" /></a>emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-33201089281066418622012-02-07T10:10:00.002-05:002012-02-14T10:57:51.506-05:00ButtonSo, I am late. Again. But I did take this picture on time. Does that count?<br /><br />This is the skeleton of a horse. Do you see that hind leg? The lower portion? Just above the hoof? Do you see those tiny side bones and how they sort of fuse into the larger center bone? (If you would like me to use the anatomically correct terms for these bones, please don't hesitate to send me a message* :-) Well, where those side bones fuse into the center bone - that's called a button. The same is true for the front leg.<br /><br />True story. That's the new thing you learned today.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kwKUKB7rTtw/Tzp5uIYAWnI/AAAAAAAAA1s/C1RmpUP11DQ/s1600/IMAG0439.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-kwKUKB7rTtw/Tzp5uIYAWnI/AAAAAAAAA1s/C1RmpUP11DQ/s320/IMAG0439.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709009311074638450" /></a><br />*They are metatarsals, btw. The ones that fuse on the sides are II and IV, and the main one is III.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-77049252629855407592012-02-06T21:55:00.004-05:002012-02-06T21:59:00.568-05:00DinnerTechnically, this is me making dinner. I would have taken a picture of the finished product, but about 2 minutes prior to this picture being taken, the smoke alarm was going off, the cat was bolting, the green beans and tomatoes were about to boil over, and the browning of the gnocchi (on high heat as directed by the recipe) was not going well at all. Frankly, after all of that, I just wanted to take the simplest picture possible.<br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W3OtyKWryL0/TzCTHdJATTI/AAAAAAAAA1g/RT8F7lhOstA/s1600/IMAG0436.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-W3OtyKWryL0/TzCTHdJATTI/AAAAAAAAA1g/RT8F7lhOstA/s320/IMAG0436.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706222484169182514" /></a>emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-30678780734943297502012-02-05T10:28:00.002-05:002012-02-05T10:32:02.730-05:0010:00 amSomeone doesn't want to get out of bed and join mom in the living room because she knows that mom will just be sitting at the computer doing that boring studying thing. Someone also knows that once we get out of bed in the morning, we are not allowed back on it until mom is in bed first. So someone is pretending that she is invisible.<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C3jyDEC0WN8/Ty6gyxmhTtI/AAAAAAAAA1U/D-I1AcEcXEA/s1600/IMAG0434.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-C3jyDEC0WN8/Ty6gyxmhTtI/AAAAAAAAA1U/D-I1AcEcXEA/s320/IMAG0434.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705674572093804242" /></a>emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-30928647480827892012-02-04T18:16:00.005-05:002012-02-04T19:53:53.116-05:00Stranger(s) Two-ferToday's topic is 'a stranger.' I wasn't sure how to interpret this, and then I realized that I got to do something new today. I got to milk a cow. I've never met the cow before, so technically, the cow was a stranger.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4JxvxBWIfm4/Ty3R85Hl9aI/AAAAAAAAA08/WwAOaOUTYm8/s1600/IMAG0431.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-4JxvxBWIfm4/Ty3R85Hl9aI/AAAAAAAAA08/WwAOaOUTYm8/s320/IMAG0431.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705447147003311522" /></a><br /><br />Although I'm pretty sure, now that I've touched her udders, we are no longer strangers.<br /><br />Not satisfied with just one picture? Me neither. After milking the momma cow, I got to bottle feed the calf. So technically, he was a stranger too.<br /><br /><a href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nWrb2lV_2R4/Ty3SXc310qI/AAAAAAAAA1I/KYBidZu09Io/s1600/IMAG0433.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-nWrb2lV_2R4/Ty3SXc310qI/AAAAAAAAA1I/KYBidZu09Io/s320/IMAG0433.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705447603277517474" /></a><br /><br />He is so cute!!! Today was a fun photo op. Though I'm pretty sure that tomorrow's pictures won't be nearly as interesting...emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-63911872335636863452012-02-03T16:04:00.004-05:002012-02-03T16:10:54.606-05:00HandsYes, I realize that the subject for today is 'hands' plural. However, I wanted to take a picture of this specific subject matter, and it turned out that I needed one hand to hold the camera.*<br /><br />We had an anatomy lab exam this morning (as part of our three exam day referenced earlier.) In an anatomy lab exam, the lab is set up with 50 stations. You get a piece of paper with 50 blanks to fill in and 30 seconds at each station. The station could be a bone with a chalk marked protrusion that you must name, a radiograph where you must identify the joint, species, and which side is medial/lateral, or it could be a cadaver with a string tied around an artery/vein/nerve/muscle and a note that says, "Name this structure." We are allowed a pencil to write our answers and a probe to be able to separate the cadaver structures from surrounding tissues. We also wear gloves because, you know, dead things.<br /><br />Fun peek into vet school, yes? <br /><br /><a href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qZHgF39EeJ0/TyxMvmquGNI/AAAAAAAAA0w/7F997sTj1ng/s1600/IMAG0422.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-qZHgF39EeJ0/TyxMvmquGNI/AAAAAAAAA0w/7F997sTj1ng/s320/IMAG0422.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705019208688867538" /></a><br />*I originally wanted several vet students to contribute their hands to this picture, but we ran out of time. Maybe next time.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-48973672626701837452012-02-02T15:59:00.001-05:002012-02-03T16:03:36.751-05:00WordsNote: I'm sorry this is going up late. We had three exams today, so I didn't do anything last night but study.<br /><br />A couple of statements about this picture. <br /><br />First: This is how dark it is when I get to school in the mornings. I could probably take a similar picture when I leave.<br /><br />Second: We recently changed our name from 'Purdue University School of Veterinary Medicine' to 'Purdue University College of Veterinary Medicine.' This was to eliminate any confusion as we have always been a stand-alone entity, but under the previous name it was easy to think that we fell under another college (such as the College of Agriculture.)<br /><br />This name change occurred in December. Since then, I've been wondering when they were going to update this sign. It wasn't until this morning, when I took this picture, that I realized that the sign lights up. I now realize the delay. This is going to be an expensive endeavor. My immediate thought is, "Please don't raise my tuition."<br /><br /><a href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9qXrybV-5ww/TyxLkphMidI/AAAAAAAAA0k/wd4fujgMkl8/s1600/IMAG0421.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-9qXrybV-5ww/TyxLkphMidI/AAAAAAAAA0k/wd4fujgMkl8/s320/IMAG0421.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5705017920964037074" /></a>emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-35326501604403391232012-02-01T18:28:00.003-05:002012-02-01T18:32:07.574-05:00My View TodayThis is what I see three times a week in Histology. My professor doesn't use Power Point presentations or any sort of formal notes. He just lectures and draws on the board with colored chalk. Old school.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g--aOVX3NBs/TynLKz2JtTI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/oDxe4lQv2SQ/s1600/IMAG0419.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 240px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-g--aOVX3NBs/TynLKz2JtTI/AAAAAAAAA0Y/oDxe4lQv2SQ/s320/IMAG0419.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704313789617911090" /></a>emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-55725860756294750392012-01-30T20:42:00.004-05:002012-02-01T18:31:31.556-05:00Since I apparently don't have time to blog......maybe I'll be able to do this? It would most definitely center around my life, and since my life these days is school, maybe it would be an interesting look into the daily grind of vet school. Hmmm. I make no promises, but I'll do my best.<br /><br /><a href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DdeFuRkqK1M/TydHbRgh3vI/AAAAAAAAA0M/aoJvrNEudmg/s1600/Blog.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 320px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-DdeFuRkqK1M/TydHbRgh3vI/AAAAAAAAA0M/aoJvrNEudmg/s320/Blog.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5703605986969902834" /></a><br />Also? I am not a photographer. All pictures will be taken with my cell phone, so don't judge.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-50304659132186407702011-10-26T20:02:00.007-04:002011-10-26T20:51:52.514-04:00The Itsy Bitsy Spider Becomes a Huge Scary Monster Who Will Suck Your Brains Out Through Your EarI have a spider problem.<br /><br />Which is fitting, I suppose, seeing as how it's almost Halloween.<br /><br />But, see, it didn't <span style="font-style:italic;">start</span> as a spider <span style="font-style:italic;">problem</span>. It <span style="font-style:italic;">started</span> as a tiny spider. <br /><br />A tiny spider with a dream.<br /><br />About a week or so ago, I noticed a web when I came returned to my house from school. The web was out of my way, so I didn't really think anything of it except to scan the immediate vicinity for spiders. Which I hate. Because I'm convinced that they will somehow kill me and eat my brains. True story.<br /><br />When I spotted the spider, I affectionately named it the "Itsy Bitsy Spider." It was so tiny. And it had such a huge web. But still, the web WAS strategically placed (right in front of my porch light where insects are attracted at night) and who am I to crush a spider's dreams? You go, spider. Besides, the cold weather was coming soon, so the spider wasn't going to last much longer. And I have a "live and let live" policy with any sort of being that has more than 4 legs. If you enter my house, I will not kill you if you don't bother me. Besides, I have a bad-ass cat that will take care of you for me. I'll just have to keep an eye out for your carcass in my shoes sometime in the near future.* But outside? You stay out of my way, and I'll stay out of yours.<br /><br />And so it went. Each time I came home or left to walk the dog, I would take a quick look to ensure that Itsy Bitsy was nowhere near me, and hurry along on my way. The spider didn't bother me, so I didn't bother it.<br /><br />But I did notice that it was growing. At an alarming rate. Maybe because of the GIGANTIC moths it was catching in the remarkably warm weather we had instead of the cold that had been predicted. It got to the point where I was having conversations with Itsy Bitsy about how she** needed to stop growing because I was getting a bit uncomfortable with her at my door.<br /><br />She didn't listen.<br /><br />Eventually I decided that if she was going to keep growing, at least it was Halloween. She could scare the kids who came to trick-or-treat.***<br /><br />But now? Well... Here's a side view of Itsy Bitsy this morning.<a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-StORdx_oV0M/TqiiZa_Cn2I/AAAAAAAAAy0/xKzqQp-KcHA/s1600/IMAG0291.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/-StORdx_oV0M/TqiiZa_Cn2I/AAAAAAAAAy0/xKzqQp-KcHA/s320/IMAG0291.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667958688669933410" /></a> I know there's nothing really there for size perspective, so let me tell you this. There was no way I was getting within at least five feet of her. And I only used about 1/8th of the zoom capability on my phone. As a courtesy, I left the picture full size so that you can click on it and make it the size of your screen.<br /><br />You're welcome.<br /><br />It's gotten to the point where I'm going to need Itsy Bitsy to weave messages into her web, a la <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Charlotte's_Web">Charlotte</a>, to tell me that basically she comes in peace. Any message like, "Not interested in brains" or "Won't eat you" or even "Thanks for not killing me when you had the chance because we both know there's no way you can do it now" would do.<br /><br />Wait, what's that you say? You want to see another view? <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M3XXBOCo9_w/TqijK53KyNI/AAAAAAAAAzA/tiSxLan_zrA/s1600/IMAG0293.jpg"><img style="float:right; margin:0 0 10px 10px;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/-M3XXBOCo9_w/TqijK53KyNI/AAAAAAAAAzA/tiSxLan_zrA/s320/IMAG0293.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667959538772003026" /></a>Okay. Zoom settings unchanged to protect the terrified. Seriously. The spider. It is huge.<br /><br />And I don't know what to do. This is stretching the boundaries of my "live and let live" policy. But on the other hand, would YOU want to try and kill that thing? And while she's expanded her web away from my door, she's not come any closer to me. So technically, nothing's changed.<br /><br />Well, nothing except the fact that she's going to be the size of Rhode Island soon if something isn't done.<br /><br />This morning I started going through my option list. It is woefully short.<br /><br />- Enlist the boy to kill the spider when he comes to visit on Friday. (Won't work. Boy shares my "live and let live" philosophy and while he'll kill spiders for me, he's actually not a huge fan of them either.)<br /><br />- Call my friend Ann and have her send over her husband to commit arachnocide.****<br /><br />And that's it. Those are my options.<br /><br />I was kind of hoping that Mother Nature would take care of the situation for me. But no amount of wind will shake Itsy Bitsy. And she's strategically placed under the eve of my roof, so the rain is pretty much deflected from where she is.<br /><br />I told you she was smart. One might say <span style="font-style:italic;">diabolically</span> smart if, you know, one were paranoid that Itsy Bitsy has a master plan.<br /><br />So if anyone has any fool-proof spider killing techniques, please pass them along. And no, none of them may contain throwing or spraying anything from any distance away. Because, seriously, if I miss? And she gets angry? I may have to move. And leave all of my stuff behind.<br /><br />Bonus picture: This is with no zoom. On the sidewalk in front of my house. For perspective. I'm alarmed that you can still actually see her.<br /><a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CppDKxF7a0s/TqiqLmqKCkI/AAAAAAAAAzY/sBKAcwRkWHI/s1600/front%2Bporch.jpg"><img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 286px; height: 320px;" src="http://3.bp.blogspot.com/-CppDKxF7a0s/TqiqLmqKCkI/AAAAAAAAAzY/sBKAcwRkWHI/s320/front%2Bporch.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5667967247378418242" /></a><br />*Which is totally a sign of love, and not a threatening gesture. FYI.<br />**Given her insect catching success, I figured it was only appropriate to call her a "she" at this point.<br />***That I won't be able to give candy to because I'll be at a Husbandry exam. From 7:00pm to 9:00pm. Tell me THAT doesn't suck.<br />****I totally just made that word up.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-79376456639683783012011-10-17T15:53:00.005-04:002011-10-17T16:07:05.547-04:00Week 9Week nine of vet school began today. There was no fanfare. I'm still waiting to see my histology grade for a test I took two weeks ago. I'm dreading my physiology exam tomorrow. I get to work with cows today.<br /><br />You know. The usual.<br /><br />After the horror that was working with sheep, I'm not exactly excited to work with the cows, but I will admit that I do love the cows more. At least there's no danger of me riding them.<br /><br />The routine here is so... I don't want to say normal... but the amount of stress there doesn't vary. So while it feels like this is a terrible thing I got myself into and I miss my "old life." The days doing this are generally all the same with occasional bright spots like working with cows. Or finding out that our dissection dog had heart worms. (Seriously very cool, but probably pretty gross to non-vet students, yes?) Sometimes I just want a nap.<br /><br />It's getting cooler here, and I know that I've been here 8 weeks. But I was walking the dog this morning and realized that Orion was directly in front of me and to my right instead of to the left like it had been at the beginning of the semester. That was sort of a wake up call that yes, time is passing, seasons are changing, and there is life outside of vet school.<br /><br />I'm glad I keep finding things to remind me of this.<br /><br />I had some friends join me this past weekend to watch a Purdue Women's Volleyball game, and one of them asked me how much "downtime" I get to just relax in any given day. My answer was immediate. None. I mean, I get an hour lunch, but even then we're usually studying or discussing a particularly difficult issue we were just given in lecture. My downtime is when I walk my dog and eat dinner in the evenings. It's sandwiched between finishing classes and studying for the evening. So it's gotten to the point that when people ask how I'm doing, I don't even try to sugarcoat with "Fine." I answer "It's hard."<br /><br />That's not to say I'm not enjoying this. I love love LOVE anatomy. Seriously. This comes as a huge surprise. The class that requires the most memorization? I love that class the most? Why yes. Yes I do. I find it endlessly fascinating. And my Applications and Integrations class where we're given actual cases that have been in the veterinary teaching hospital? (names and identifying details changed to protect the innocent, of course) That class is equally as interesting. It's all problem based learning, and while my peers had some difficulty adjusting to a style of learning that isn't all lecture/regurgitation, I found that after years out in the "real world" that's how I learn best. Radiographs to interpret? Yes please. Blood work to analyze? Sweet. I even asked a friend to send me some bloodwork she had been given last year so that I could review it again with all my new found knowledge. That was pretty darn cool.<br /><br />Also? Cats are the exception to everything. Also? What happens when you look at a horse sideways? Colic.<br /><br />We have a cat lab tomorrow where we were originally told to "bring our own cats." I am the only one who lives with a cat in my group, so that means Laney would have been the cat to practice our physical examinations and restraint on. Since I haven't heard the final word on whether or not we need our own cats, I think Laney will be staying at home. She's relieved. She had no interest in seeing the place where I live these days. And although my group members don't know it, they're relieved also.<br /><br />I sort of wish I would have pictures of me with the cows to show you, but then again, the coveralls are NOT flattering in the least, so maybe we're all better off this way...emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-52245978219883110202011-09-27T21:57:00.006-04:002011-09-27T22:22:23.756-04:00The Case of the Mysterious Spot<span style="font-weight:bold;">Day 1</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">WHAT I HEARD FROM MY MOTHER:</span><br /><br />M: Blue peed in the house last night.<br /><br />E: WHAT?!<br /><br />M: I don't know. But he peed in the house. Does this mean he'll always pee in the house? Will we have to get rid of him?<br /><br />E: Hold on a moment. Blue peed in the house? But he's housebroken? He wouldn't have peed in the house unless he really really really had to go! Did you let him out before you went to bed?<br /><br />M: I did. And usually when he has to pee, I'll hear 'click click click click click' as he paces on the floors. But he didn't wake me up last night. I must have slept through it. Will he always pee in the house now?<br /><br />E: Well... he doesn't WANT to pee in the house. He only does that if he has no other choice. Because he's housebroken. Since he's housebroken, he pees outside. Because he's, you know... housebroken. But I guess... if he's in the position again where he really has to go pee... and he can't get outside... now that he's peed there once, that will be "his spot." But it won't MAKE him pee inside. (pause) Are you SURE he peed inside?<br /><br />M: Oh yes. I woke up and there was pee on the floor of the living room. I cleaned it up really well, but that's all I can do, right? It couldn't have been the cat. It was definitely Blue. <br /><br />E: Okay. Well, I guess it's possible he's getting too old to hold it for the 18 hours you guys sleep per night...<br /><br />M: That's your father!<br /><br />E: ...so if worse comes to worst and it happens again, I guess you can always crate him through the night. I just can't believe he peed in the house.<br /><br />M: If it were the cat, it would smell of ammonia. Right? Cat pee smells like ammonia.<br /><br />E: Oh yes. Cat pee is unmistakable.<br /><br />M: I knew it wasn't the cat. We'll see what happens.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">WHAT I HEARD FROM MY FATHER:</span><br /><br />Absolutely nothing on the subject.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Day 3</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">WHAT I HEARD FROM MY MOTHER:</span><br /><br />M: Blue peed in the house again!<br /><br />E: What? I can't believe this!<br /><br />M: Yes. Blue peed in the house. I don't know what to do. I let him out before I go to bed, and he still pees in the house. Stupid dog. I will just have to crate him overnight now.<br /><br />E: Bummer. Poor Blue.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">WHAT I HEARD FROM MY FATHER:</span><br /><br />Absolutely nothing on the subject.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Day 5</span><br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">WHAT I HEARD FROM MY MOTHER:</span><br /><br />Absolutely nothing on the subject<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">WHAT I HEARD FROM MY FATHER:</span><br /><br />D: Oh! Did your mother tell you about Blue peeing?<br /><br />E: Yes. She told me that Blue was peeing in the house.<br /><br />D: Yeah. Yeah. She really blamed Blue for peeing in the house. So I went out and bought a baby gate* and put it up in the doorway. And in the morning, there was pee again. So I asked her, 'Do you really think Blue jumped over that baby gate? Do you really?'**<br /><br />E: Oh yeah?<br /><br />D: Poor Blue. He was the target of all those mean thoughts for some time. And it was the cat. The cat the whole time.<br /><br />E: I'm glad you got it figured out. Did you give Blue treats to make up for it?<br /><br />D: Did I give him...? Of course I gave him treats! He gets more treats than... well, than most dogs I would guess. He's a good boy. If he's got to go outside at night, he comes over and wakes me up to take him out.*** He's just a great dog. Look, he's coming over now. Aren't you Blue? You're a good boy. Good boy Blue.<br /><br />_____________________________________________________<br /><br />More than anything about this story, I love the subtext. I never got to hear it, but I can imagine the silent (or not so silent - Who knows?) difference of opinion that was occurring with my mother immediately blaming Blue and my father immediately siding with Blue. I love that I got the entire story completely one sided from my mom until the resolution, which came from my father.<br /><br />I also love that my father has learned not to argue. He probably said something once about how it may have been the cat, and then just let my mother disagree. But I'm certain he purchased the first cheap baby gate he saw. He may have even made a special trip. And now that he's right? I'm also sure he won't say anything about it to my mom.<br /><br />Unless there's alcohol involved.<br /><br />Alcohol and perhaps a daughter to stir the pot.<br /><br />Good thing I get to visit in about 10 days, huh?<br /><br />*I'm not gonna lie. The thought that flashed through my brain here was that he had purchased a nanny cam to catch the perpetrator in the act. Seriously. When my dad does something, he doesn't go halfway. I'm glad I was wrong. The baby gate makes much more sense. I forgot that my dad is sensible. Unlike me, apparently.<br /><br />**Answer: No. Blue couldn't have jumped over the baby gate even if he had a trampoline and both cats helping him.<br /><br />***This totally made me wonder if Blue is running some sort of scam where he wakes up both of them at different times in the night so that he can go out more than once? Maybe Blue is smarter than I give him credit for?emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-18899816774514625262011-09-22T08:33:00.002-04:002011-09-22T08:56:12.263-04:00Bussin'I don't mind riding the bus. I really really don't. It takes me approximately 30 minutes to get to campus as opposed to the 10 minutes that it would take me driving, but it's 30 minutes of not having to worry about anything, 30 minutes to study some flashcards or (in one case) finish up a homework assignment that I had spaced on the night before or 30 minutes to just space out and listen to an audiobook before my day begins in earnest. The ride culminates in me getting off the bus and walking about a quarter mile to my building to begin my classes. No hunting for a parking space. <br /><br />To be honest, that makes the whole process worthwhile. The walk is refreshing (check back with me in the winter) and, to me, hunting for a parking space is akin to pulling out my teeth one by one.<br /><br />I'll admit, there have been a lot of changes in the last 6 weeks that have required quite a bit of adjustment for me. Riding the bus is, thankfully, not one of them. My only wish is that there was a Starbucks SOMEWHERE on my daily commute.<br /><br />I have one day a week when classes begin at 8:30am. Which means I'm on the bus that arrives on campus at 8:00am. Every other day of the week requires an earlier ETA than that - sometimes MUCH earlier than that. So I'm usually on a bus that is not filled to capacity. The 8:00am bus is different. EVERYONE is trying to get on campus by 8:00am. I hate that bus ride. For the crowds. I hate the crowds in the morning. And the morning people. The morning people all chatting to each other about the day that is about to begin. The regulars that are all exchanging friendly hellos.<br /><br />I am NOT a morning person, and, although a regular, I'm lucky if I can manage a wave to the people who are now familiar by sight.<br /><br />My general rule of thumb is that I sit in a row that has two adjacent seats, and I sit on the seat that is closest to the row. This leaves the window seat empty for my book bag. As long as I can see at least two other open seats on the bus, I do not move over and open up the seat next to me. My rationale is this, A) There are other seats that are open and B) I'm not a morning person.*<br /><br />Apparently other bus-riders do not appreciate this rationale.<br /><br />On NUMEROUS occasions, there will be MULTIPLE open seats, and I'll have someone come up next to me and say "Excuse me, please?" The first time it happened, I was so shocked that I just moved over and put my book bag (my HEAVY book bag) on my lap. I spent the rest of the ride in stunned silence. There were SEVERAL other open seats. Why did this person sit next to me? I pondered it until I got off the bus and chalked it up to a fluke.<br /><br />Until it happened again.<br /><br />And again.<br /><br />I'd say that at least three times a week, on a sparsely filled bus, people are asking me to move over so that they can sit next to me. All varieties of people. Young women, young men, older men, older women. It doesn't matter. It happens so often now that I've gotten borderline rude. When someone asks me to move over, I'll make eye contact with them, deliberately look at all the other open seats THAT DON'T REQUIRE ANYONE TO MOVE, then look back at the person before moving over and letting them sit next to me.<br /><br />My friend Cory says it's because I have a "good energy." I don't see how this is possible first thing in the morning before I've had coffee. My friend Jessica suggested that next time someone says, "Excuse me, please?" I should say, "Yes? Did you need something?"<br /><br />I am not pleasant in the mornings. This might happen. I'm about one more early morning away from telling someone "No. Sit somewhere else."<br /><br />I'm just not sure I want to be "that girl." Thoughts?<br /><br />*On the 8:00am bus, all bets are off. I'm usually wedged up against the window while a 500lb person squeezes into the seat adjacent to me, a mother with a screaming child sits immediately in front of me, and a toddler is behind me kicking my seat. I hate the 8:00am bus. Have I mentioned that?emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-90583571337093636742011-09-15T10:19:00.003-04:002011-09-15T11:03:45.391-04:00Vet School ObservationsI have SO MUCH to talk about and SO LITTLE time to do it. I'm so sorry to my two loyal fans who routinely harass me to post new blogs. It just occurred to me that during a boring lecture, it looks like I'm taking notes while I post a blog, so I should be able to post more often.<br /><br />Just kidding. I think.<br /><br />So here's a list of snippets that have occurred to me in the last 4 weeks (GOOD GOD! I've been a vet student for four weeks?!) and made me think, "I should put that in my blog." Sorry for the brevity.<br /><br />- When you're walking your dog in the morning, and can look up and see the stars, it's a definite reality check.<br /><br />- There is a WORLD of difference between undergrad and grad school. I was informed of this several different times in several different ways as I prepared to enter vet school. They definitely do their best to prepare you. But I'm not sure there's anything in the world to prepare you for 18 hours of advanced science credits. All new study habits are necessary. I'm still catching up.<br /><br />- There aren't enough hours in the day for everything I need to do. Currently my laundry and house cleaning are suffering. (Of course, this isn't much different than when I was working, so maybe I just don't like to do those things.)<br /><br />- I used to get up at 7:00am every day and get home by 5:30pm. Now I get up at 5:30am every day (on average) and am home by 5:30pm (on average.) Some days are longer and some are marginally shorter. I was looking forward to being a full time student with nothing but school to worry about. For some reason I thought this would be easier than working 40 hours/week and completing pre-requisites. This was an error in my thinking.<br /><br />- The thought sometimes occurs to me that I can not believe the complete 180 my life has taken in the last 30 days. I wonder if new moms feel this way? Obviously the situations are different, but in one way they are similar. You KNEW this change was coming, but you didn't really KNOW how different it would be.<br /><br />- I love my classmates. I really do. Some more than others, obviously, but everyone is really friendly. Still... I ache for my friends. A lot. I miss them every day when I need a pick-me-up or a weekly get together (like volleyball) to look forward to. It kills me that I have to limit myself to one social outing per month with Indy friends because I can't combine all of my friends into one big group to see everyone at once.<br /><br />- I was considering going the "mixed" vet track (a little of small animal and a large animal) because I thought it would help future job opportunities. Then I had my first husbandry lab where I got to work with sheep. I was not at all intimidated by the sheep, but sheep are BIG. It may have hurt that I accidentally got stuck with the biggest sheep in the flock. After the difficulty I had restraining the sheep (um, I ended up riding the sheep at one point) and I realized that sheep are probably the smallest of large animals, I'm pretty sure I'm going to be a strictly small-animal vet. I'm willing to accept my limitations.<br /><br />- I'm still stubborn as hell, so I did go back and work with the sheep again. I did succeed in restraining and examining the sheep. It's all about picking a size-appropriate sheep.<br /><br />- So maybe I'm not good with accepting limitations after all.<br /><br />- The boy seems to miss me. He couldn't be more attentive and helpful lately. I miss him too, but a part of me is glad we have this long distance arrangement. It's hard enough to get 2-3 hours of study time in before bed while living alone. I have to physically remove myself from the vicinity of the laptop in most cases. If the boy were here, I'm afraid my productivity would drop to zero during the week, and there just aren't enough hours on the weekend alone to keep up. This way I can study study study when he's not here and then spend time with him when he is.<br /><br />- I was so proud of myself for weaning myself almost completely off of caffeine. Except for a random Starbucks run when I overslept, I was drinking only water or non-caffeinated drinks. Now? I may as well have an IV caffeine drip. I think this goes hand-in-hand with lowering my average sleeping time from 7 hours per night to 5.5 hours of sleep per night.<br /><br />- I have a husbandry dog that I (and a group of 3 other classmates) am responsible for training and walking each day. He's a very handsome 90lb Labrador Retriever (in the AKC sporting group, btw) who is working on "sit" and "down." He's gigantic. So of course, when the boy met him, he fell in love with him. He will be up for adoption in April after we finish our course. I'm trying to explain to the boy that having two big dogs is much different than having one, but I'm not sure what success I'm having. I'll keep you updated. (On the up side, at least the boy would have ONE non-crazy dog.)<br /><br />- We have a "Stool Evaluation" chart that we have to follow to record our husbandry dog's bathroom habits. It's a range from 1-6. The boy saw this and will now randomly text me a number telling me how his bowel movements are going. I guess it's the little things that come out of vet school, right?<br /><br />- I have attempted to claim a seat in our main classroom. Apparently, I chose a plot in prime real estate because I have to battle daily to keep "my seat." I must be slipping because it seems that I have not yet put the fear of God into these young vet classmates. I need to get on that.<br /><br />- I wear jeans and tennis shoes daily. This seemed like the best! thing! ever! when I was working. Now? I miss cute shoes. It's hard to wear cute shoes and a cute outfit when you're either working with large animals or going to anatomy lab at some point during the day. (Such a hardship, right?)<br /><br />I'm sure I will have more to tell you later, and I really REALLY wish I could videotape or take pictures of my interactions with the large animals (for the first time ever) but unfortunately that's against the rules. Bummer because seriously. I rode a sheep guys. By accident. Horror!!emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-16060344340652652742011-08-12T15:21:00.003-04:002011-08-15T15:08:29.730-04:00Will Clean for WiFiOther than not having access to the internet at my new home (sniff) I'm all settled in. I mean, sure, there are still pictures (and a wine rack) to hang, and I have to do a good pass through with the vacuum, but otherwise, all moved in. And everything is roses.
<br />
<br />A couple of things to mention.
<br />
<br />Apparently Indianapolis is a big city. A big city that has its own channels. Like an ABC affiliate, and NBC affiliate, etc. So if a girl doesn't have cable, but has an antenna, she can still see the shows that she loves on network TV. But, um, in Lafayette Indiana, there is no such luxury. Which means that if a girl doesn't want to pay for cable, she's gonna be watching a lot of TV online (and a lot of DVDs during the summer.)
<br />
<br />Can you imagine me with no internet and no TV? Also, seriously, if I'm your friend on Facebook and you post TV show spoilers, I will unfriend you. Immediately. No questions asked. You have been warned.
<br />
<br />I'm currently camped out in the living room of my good friend Ann. She is generously sharing her WiFi with me. So I can get my fill of Facebook, blogs, online celebrity gossip. You know, the important stuff in life.
<br />
<br />And some schoolwork.
<br />
<br />Casey is sick and tired of new people and new places. She would like it very much if we could return to Indianapolis, please. We visited last night, and when she got out of the car in her old front yard, she didn't even try to run in the door. She just stood in the front yard with her tail wagging slowly from side to side. It broke my heart. She's just now gotten to the point where she will kennel in the new house without complaint and without freaking out a la Tyson. I think she's been the most difficult part of this move. It's like an unfiltered physical manifestation of all of my sadness and anxiety about leaving the city I've called home for the last 15 years.
<br />
<br />I just hope she adjusts soon.
<br />
<br />The boy is having similar adjustment issues. I think we've spoken on the phone more since I left town (four days ago) than we have during the entire time we've been dating. Of course, I would be lying if I didn't say that I missed him too. A lot.
<br />
<br />I miss everything in Indianapolis. I think I need classes to start to keep me busy.
<br />
<br />The cat is having no such issues. Laney loves the new house. She loves the windows and the sunshine, and the new rooms and closets to explore. She's gotten into the habit of pawing (clawing) open my closet door in the mornings to wake me up and make me feed her. Yesterday I closed the closet door after my breakfast and later on that evening I heard a very polite pawing sound coming from somewhere. I opened the closet and Laney walked out and thanked me for letting her out, oh and could she have some food now please? Today I found out that she has chosen inside my closet on top of my plastic drawers and just under the clothes as her place of choice to nap. Great. I'll never be without cat hair on my clothes now.
<br />
<br />At least I'll spend all of my time around people who will probably understand.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-66186998062356783472011-08-01T10:25:00.007-04:002011-08-01T10:41:51.417-04:00Feeling LovedFive more days in Indianapolis. Holy freaking cow. Seriously. Rationally, I know that I move on Saturday, but emotionally I can't believe that I'm leaving Indy. And my friends. Let's not forget that I'm leaving (most of) my friends.<br /><br />This past Saturday night some of my favorite women got together for a Girls Night Out in downtown Indianapolis. One of them, a Purdue grad herself, really enjoys my impending Boilermaker status - a little TOO much, I think. We had a great evening of pedicures, shopping, a ride in an Escalade to dinner, fantastic guacamole, dancing at a club, and finally embarrassing the future vet on stage at a local piano bar. All in all too much alcohol was consumed and a fantastic evening was had by all.<br /><br />I want to note that none of the above are things that I would usually spend money on. (well, except for the fantastic guacamole - we all know where MY priorities lie!) But the evening was so great that I'm left with the nagging feeling that I want to recapture part or all of it on a daily/weekly/monthly basis. <a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m0v8on0-Ucc/Tja6y-PhtPI/AAAAAAAAAx4/BQPnsqymCQQ/s1600/Boilermaker.jpg"><img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 240px; height: 320px;" src="http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-m0v8on0-Ucc/Tja6y-PhtPI/AAAAAAAAAx4/BQPnsqymCQQ/s320/Boilermaker.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5635897368565101810" /></a>I know that's not possible because the best part of the evening was the company - but I have that feeling nonetheless. I couldn't have asked for a better last Saturday night in the city I've called home for 15 years.<br /><br />And, lest you think I'm getting too sentimental, I'm including a picture of me drinking my very first <a href="http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Boilermaker_(beer_cocktail)">Boilermaker</a>. (My advice? Don't drink one of these.)<br /><br />Last week, the boy had to work really REALLY early in the morning. So when I woke up for work as usual, there was no one else in the house. Just me and the dogs. And... you guys... I sorta missed him. And by "sorta" I mean, I was all mopey as I went about the normal morning routine that I've enjoyed for the past three years. Alone. With no boy. I've GOT to shake that off, I know. I'm moving to Lafayette (ALONE!) and things will return to normal. And "normal" can not mean "lonely." But I thought I would mention this, if only to give my friend Jaclyn something to be happy about. (Don't think I don't know you're lurking out there, Jac.)<br /><br />I get my keys tomorrow night, so the first carload of boxes will make their way up with me tomorrow. I still have a few things to pack, and two large things to get rid of (desktop computer and dining room table) but I think that once those two things are taken care of, I'll feel better about the move. After all, the kitchen is all packed, the living room is all packed, and I'm not packing my clothes. I'm hoping to just transport them on hangers. My friend zlionsfan offered to help drive up a carload of stuff. I was hesitant at first, thinking about his tiny hybrid and his ability to put much stuff in there. But then I realized that his tiny hybrid has the advantage of being <span style="font-style:italic;">entirely dog hair free</span>, so he is now my official clothing mover. Despite the boy's profession of doom and gloom, I think I have this move pretty much under control. Not as under control as my cousin when SHE moved, but as close as a habitual procrastinator can possibly be.<br /><br />Also? Tyson is still a terrible dog. Only now he's a stoned, senile, and stinky-breath terrible dog. Not going to miss him. Maybe miss the boy, but not his dog. So all is still right with the world.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-77209709498720291262011-07-29T10:07:00.003-04:002011-07-29T12:32:05.539-04:00A Whole New DogYou guys, I am a TERRIBLE dog mom. Seriously. Awful. And it's all because I'm stubborn. And, you know... always have to be right.<br /><br />But in this case, I can admit it. I was wrong. Wrong wrong wrong.<br /><br />See, Casey has allergies. I've fought with these allergies ever since she was over 2 years old. Summertime comes and she gets all red and itchy. And it's been getting progressively worse, as allergies tend to do. The first year it was just itchy paws and red eyes. The <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2009/11/since-im-apparently-in-sharing-mood.html">second year</a> it was more itchy, chewed upon paws, and some red splotches on her stomach. The <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2010/05/fatty-fatty-two-by-four.html">THIRD year</a>, it was all of that PLUS hives that then caused her to lose hair in patches all over her body.<br /><br />I would like to say that I didn't let it get to the point where I called Casey "leprosy dog" but I would be lying. The thing is, the cheapest and fastest remedy for an allergic reaction is a cortisone shot. And when Casey gets a cortisone shot, she turns into MONSTER DOG. I do not like monster dog. I do not like her at all. So last year, I tried a WHOLE SLEW of at-home remedies. I tried Benedryl. (fail) I tried fish oil pills. (somewhat fail, somewhat success) I tried bathing Casey every other day. (fail.) I tried a new shampoo and bathing every day (more fail.) The one thing I DID NOT DO that was suggested to me over and over was changing her food. I stubbornly would not change Casey's diet. Why, I reasoned, would that make a difference when Casey eats the same food all year round, but only has allergies in the spring/summer? I mean, I know my dog, and she definitely is not allergic to her food.<br /><br />Finally, at my wits end, I took her to another veterinarian with a different perspective on antihistamines. Namely, this take was that the antihistamines (paired with an antibiotic to heal the already apparent hives all over my dog) would help. This vet said that they had taken a skin scraping and found that my dog was "yeasty" and had also found staph. (Which is always present, but apparently her "lowered immune system" due to allergies was causing the staph to make the hives infected. Hence leprosy dog.) <br /><br />And lo, all was well.<br /><br />As an added bonus, I got ZOMBIE DOG instead of MONSTER DOG. A trade I was more than willing to make.<br /><br />So this year, we started the antihistamines early. Like, April 1st early. And there's been more success in staving off the allergies this year than at any time in the past. However, as the summer progressed, the hives did appear on Casey's stomach even if they didn't appear all over her body. And her nose, paws and eyes were pretty red from being scratched/chewed/rubbed from the itching.<br /><br />I still counted this as a success. Seriously. If you had seen leprosy dog, you would understand.<br /><br />But last spring, I took a course in microbiology. And this summer? A course in animal nutrition. And then came a suggestion from a friend whose dog has similar skin problems to Casey. And it seemed that everything at once clicked. Like, my dog is yeasty. <a href="http://answers.ask.com/Food_and_Drinks/Food_and_Cooking/what_does_yeast_eat">And what does yeast eat?</a> Sugar. And what is the second ingredient in most dog foods? Potatoes or Corn. Which are starch. And what is starch made of? Sugar.<br /><br />Hmmmm.<br /><br />Of course, this food that Casey has been eating for the first six years of her life is either free (yay!) or very very low cost. So it's the best food I could get for the lowest price. Which is, of course, why she's been on it for so long. And why I was so reluctant to change it. But I love my dog. And she's allergic. And, well, why not try this change?<br /><br />So a friend recommended a dog food to me that had tapioca instead of a starch as the second ingredient. A dog food that is $41.99 for a 25lb bag. O-U-C-H.<br /><br />But four days on this food, and Casey looks like an entirely new dog. More pink, less red. Sores disappearing. Overall just... healthier.<br /><br />And BOY does she love this food. If Tyson even gets NEAR it, she gets ANGRY.<br /><br />But still. $41.99/bag. Sigh. And me entering vet school where they give you dog food for free each month. Double sigh. Something tells me that they food they'll be giving me won't have tapioca in it.<br /><br />I swear. This dog.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-77630665908595783572011-07-07T15:02:00.002-04:002011-07-07T15:28:20.083-04:00Ch-Ch-Ch-Changes!The boy and his dog moved in on July 1st. Not-so-coincidentally, I left on July 1st for a long weekend with an old high school friend. I had a ball and came back on the 4th relaxed and refreshed. I came back to a house full of three dogs and a boy and boxes <span style="font-weight:bold;">everywhere</span>. But in the spirit of "it's only for a month" I decided to just accept the situation for what it is, and relax. The boy, apparently, didn't get that memo.<br /><br />And part of me doesn't blame him. Even though it's "our" house for now, it really is "his" house moving forward. He's excited to move his stuff in and make it "homey." No matter how many times I tell him there is no way for this tiny house to look neat and tidy with two people's-worth of stuff in it, he keeps "tidying." And so I sigh, box up another area of my stuff and lug it downstairs.<br /><br />It's only for a month.<br /><br />The dogs have adjusted admirably. It helps that after <span style="font-style:italic;">years</span> of resisting* Tyson is now on doggie prozac. Whole. New. Dog. We can leave and he just curls up and sleeps until we get home. No freaking out, no whining... I tell you, it's a miracle. We haven't tried crating him, but without the cat around (who's living the life of luxury in my office right now) there really is no need. He's almost the perfect dog.** Casey is obviously the top of the hierarchy, and the only problem that Blue and Tyson have is that Blue doesn't realize he's temporary and thus isn't really second on the list of command (even though he's lived there longer than Tyson.) So Blue tends to get snippy when Tyson takes the place that he usually lies. It's a fleeting disagreement, but still a sign that for everyone's sanity, I must purge a dog from my house soon. Also a sign? Fitting two pit bulls and the boy in bed with me is just short of comfortable. Especially since Blue will just jump on the bed and literally sleep wherever he lands. No matter what is beneath him. Yay.<br /><br />Speaking of Blue, he's absolutely shredded the mattress he had in his crate. I think he's protesting the loss of his home where he was free to roam all day long and go outside whenever he pleased. I've told him he's going home soon, but bless his vacant brown eyes, I'm not sure he understands.<br /><br />Blue goes home July 15th.<br /><br />My parents seem anxious to be reunited with their dog, even though they're sad to be losing their free, built-in babysitter. When I begin school, it just won't be feasible to pick up Blue and keep him for long periods of time. So in preparation for that, my parents have been doing research on kennels in the city where they live.<br /><br />They've visited five so far.<br /><br />And they must visit in person. My mother (<a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2009/04/feeling-blue.html">who is not a dog person</a>, <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2009/05/her-baby.html">let us all remember this</a>) wants to see the places herself to deem them worthy of keeping her dog for extended periods of time. One was rejected because it didn't have air conditioning. One is a concern because they have a doggie day care during the day (my mother is concerned that Blue will be picked on because he's so "mild-mannered.) My mom jokes that she and my dad didn't even put this much legwork into selecting colleges for my brother and I. She's not kidding. And even though I'm amused, I'm glad Blue is so loved. What a match made in heaven.<br /><br />*"Society is over-medicated, Emily," "I am not medicating my dog, Emily," "He doesn't need medication, he's fine."<br /><br />**It did hurt me to type that. Indeed it did.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-30497139.post-37132769851101544712011-06-15T15:40:00.004-04:002011-06-15T16:12:19.599-04:00Listening SkillzI have to move again. I would say I'm not looking forward to it because I don't like change, but I'm actually split right down the middle. This move is symbolic of SO MANY life changes coming up that I am equally terrified and elated to make this move. If you add in that the new house is just like the one I'm in now - shabby chic - without the "shabby" and maybe it's 51% elated and 49% terrified.<br /><br />There are some hurdles to get through first, though. Some readers of this blog have been around since <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2006/07/cohabitation-part-i.html">the boy</a> <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2006/07/cohabitation-part-ii.html">and I</a> <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2006/07/cohabitation-part-iii.html">lived</a> <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2006/08/cohabitation-part-iv.html">together</a> so they remember the days when this blog was funny. HAVE I GOT NEWS FOR THEM!<br /><br />When I found my tiny house in my new city, I had the following telephone conversation with the boy on May 2nd:<br /><br />E: Guess what?<br />B: What?<br />E: I found a house in Lafayette!<br />B: Really? That's great news!<br />E: I know, right? I haven't seen it yet. I'll go see it on May 14th. If it looks as good as the pictures and the neighborhood is nice, I'll definitely snatch it up. The rent is only $5 more per month than what I'm paying now, can you believe it?<br />B: Awesome.<br /><br />In retrospect, I'm pretty sure the boy stopped listening after I said "I found a house in Lafayette." Because he put in his two month notice at his apartment complex that day. Which means he has to be out of his apartment on July 1st.<br /><br />Did I mention that the boy is taking over the lease for my current house? Ah. Well, he is. Which is helpful because I can leave some stuff in the basement, or move it slowly over the course of three months instead of worrying about moving everything in one day. Nice, right?<br /><br />Oh, and when I went to see the house on May 14th (it was indeed as adorable as the pictures) I found out that it wasn't availabe until August 1st. Which is perfect for my school schedule. So I agreed to this move in date, signed necessary papers, and put down my deposit.<br /><br /><em>Because I didn't know that the boy had put in his two months notice on May 2nd.</em><br /><br />That tidbit of information was shared with me on the ride back to Lafayette.<br /><br />Oh yes. The boy was present for me signing all the papers and agreeing to a move in date of August 1st. All the while knowing that he didn't have anywhere to live after July 1st unless it was the house that I'm currently in. The "shabby-chic" house that is no more than 750 square feet. The house that I would not be vacating until August 1st as it turns out.<br /><br />As you can imagine, I was thrilled to get this news. Live with <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/search/label/Tyson">Tyson</a> again? Sure! Why not? It wasn't <em>that</em> traumatic the first time. It wasn't like that devil dog was one of the reasons why I moved out or anything. Psh. This will be fine.<br /><br /><a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2011/06/rankings.html">Even with Blue back until July 15th.</a><br /><br />So, just to recap, the boy, Casey, Tyson, Blue and I will all be living in a 750 square foot house. Together. At the same time. All of us.<br /><br /><a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/search/label/Laney">Laney</a> will be on her own with a very generous friend of mine. Because when I found out this totally awesome information about cohabitation round 2, my only rule was that Tyson and Laney would not live together again. <a href="http://ems0178.blogspot.com/2008/06/tough-times.html">We can not crate Tyson</a>, and there are no extra rooms <strike>for him to tear up beyond recognition</strike> to keep him in, so I was not about to leave both Tyson and Laney roming free without supervision. No way. So the boy was charged with finding a temporary home for Laney. Which, to his credit, he did.<br /><br />So mark your calendars. July 1st. Plenty of amusing blogs coming your way, I'm sure. After all, what could possibly go wrong with making three pit bulls and two humans live together in 750 square feet? Nothing, right? Awesome. I should contact Fox. Surely this deserves its own reality TV show.emshttp://www.blogger.com/profile/11930035974431027909noreply@blogger.com4