Success

This is the grave of poet James Whitcomb Riley.It is the highest point in Indianapolis. This hill is located in Crown Hill Cemetery. And it's located about a mile from my house.

Even though it's the highest point in Indy, it's difficult to grasp the magnitude of the hill it sits upon. The hill has many twists and turns. When you're standing at the bottom (which is still up a slight incline) you see this:And then, when you trudge up to the second left, you see this:And then, when you think you're in the home stretch, after you trudge even more slowly to the first right, you see this: (which is the steepest incline of the entire hill)But when you make it to the top, it's all worth it when you look down and see that you've conquered this:And it's even sweeter when you see this:But do you know when it's the sweetest?

After you've just ridden your bike all the way to the top for the very first time.

All the way to the top.

Without stopping.

On your bike.

Especially if, say, you've tried and failed several times in the past to ride your bike up the hill, and it's gotten to the point where the hill has become sort of a nemesis for you.

A nemesis that you've just made your bitch.

Today was a good day.

Never Fear, Casey is here

For some reason, I've never been scared of coyotes. Wolves, yes. Coyotes? No. I mean, it's not like I would want to come across a rabid coyote while all alone on a pleasant evening walk... and it's not like I've forgotten my first experience with nightswimming where there was very little swimming by Emily and very much twining myself tightly around my companion when random howls began from the nearby vacant country field... but ever since becoming more familiar with dogs, learning their body language and reading about coyotes, I would say I'm more respectful of them than I am scared.

Which is why I didn't have a total panic meltdown last Friday when Casey and I were playing fetch in the woodsy area of Crown Hill near my home and Casey suddenly went tearing off towards the woods. Vaguely confused, I looked at the ball in my hand which had not yet been thrown, then back at the rear end of my rapidly retreating dog. Suddenly my gaze was caught by a flash of movement slightly ahead of Casey. Another couple of seconds identified it as a coyote. A coyote on which Casey was rapidly gaining as she chased it into the woods.

Initially I freaked out and called her name repeatedly. Each time I said her name it was more high pitched and frantic. Casey paid me about as much attention as the boy does when playing Peggle. So I took off in a dead sprint in the direction she was running. Reason (and the fact that I'm out of shape) reasserted itself in about 20 steps, and I stopped and realized that there was absolutely nothing I could do. So I waited and listened for any noise coming from the woods in which Casey had disappeared.

Three minutes later, Casey came bounding out of the woods towards me with a big silly grin on her face and immediately demanded that I throw the ball for her. I checked her over while she wiggled impatiently and tried to snatch the ball out of my pocket (bad dog!) She was fine. Not a scratch on her.

So I was somewhat amused yesterday as Casey and I headed home after another round of fetch and the neighbor across the street came out to warn me away from that particular grassy field.

"You'll wanna be careful, young lady. We've seen a coyote in that field almost every night."

I want to know what went through his mind when I said, "Thanks for telling me. We saw the coyote last week and my dog chased it off, but we'll be careful."

He cast a glance at Casey panting happily beside me and didn't say anything else as he headed back inside.

And I wonder where Casey gets her reputation...

Work to Live

So, this work thing has been interfering with my blogging. I have informed my boss that this can not continue, but he seems not to care.

Seriously, work has been a madhouse for the last week or so. A new guy has been brought on board, and in an office of three, this causes quite a stir. Can't. Wait. Until. Things. Settle. Down.

As a result, I have had zero time for email checking or blog reading or (most importantly) blog posting. Sorry for anyone I've neglected. I hope to get back to my regularly scheduled programming soon. In the meantime, here are some snippets.

- I managed to make myself look like a complete idiot while walking Casey on Saturday. It was "Bike Day" at Crown Hill, so there were cyclists everywhere. Still, I walk in an older/rarely visited portion of the cemetery, so I let Casey off-leash anyway. I saw a cyclist approaching at a reasonable speed, so I wasn't concerned as I went to corral Casey. When the cyclist was about 50 feet away, she yelled "Does she know what a bicycle is?"

My mind was in approximately a million places at once as I enjoyed my newest playlist, pushed my walk to get it done in under an hour so I wasn't late to meet my friend, and keeping track of Casey so she didn't get in the way of the cyclist. As a result, the only thing that I could think to respond to the woman was, "Um, she's a dog?"

The lady had to stop her bike because she was laughing so hard. After some discussion, we determined that the lady was just asking whether or not Casey was familiar with bikes and knew not to get in the way. I explained that yes, Casey is recently familiar with bikes, but that this was no guarantee that she would stay out of her way, which is why I was herding her over to my side as the cyclist approached. The still-chuckling woman rode off, and I felt like the world's biggest idiot.

- I saw my first horse-show this past weekend. The son of one of my friends from high school was a partipant. It was very cool and I was overall very impressed. I didn't actually realize how tentative I would be around horses, though. My friend said, "Wait a sec, aren't you wanting to become a vet?!" Um, yes. But I never said I wanted to be a large animal vet. Maybe it's because of my short stature, but horses are GIGANTIC! I love horses....I'm just not sure I want to be that close to them. At least not within kicking or stomping distance.

- I did absolutely nothing on Sunday and it felt FABULOUS!

- I have had my bike helmet for over a week now and haven't yet had a chance to use it. I missed out on my bike marathon for the horse show, which was worth it, but I'm still bummed. I need to find time to get back on my bike.

- Drink your milk, kids. I started eating cereal for breakfast every day, and I'm astounded by the changes in my body by the mere addition of daily milk. (not the least of which are fingernails that are longer than I've ever before had them.)

- Unless it's raining, I'm taking the camera on my walk with Casey tonight. I figure it's been long enough since my last photo-blog, and there are some very pretty views at Crown Hill that I'm sure even I can capture with my point and shoot. What I NEED to do is get Ann to go on my walk with me after Baby Boo arrives. But for now, you'll have to make do with my pictures.

- I have a reunion this weekend in Chicago. I'm meeting up with some people that I studied abroad with in Costa Rica. Ten years ago. I hate how old that makes me feel, but I'm looking forward to the fun time that is certain to be had.

Spontaneity

Confession: I didn't know how to spell the title of this blog. I had to look it up.

There's a beverage at one of my favorite bagel places that I love to order. I love iced tea, it's lightly sweetened, and it's got enough caffeine to wake me up in the mornings. Plus, the name is fun to say (Spontanei-tea.)

Unfortunately (or fortunately if you're me, I guess) that's about the extent of the spontaneity in my life. I know this will come as a shock to some of you (unless you're regular readers. Then you know me. But if you're new it's a shock. If you're new, hi there!!) but I'm a bit of a planner. A little Type-A. A smidge of a control freak. I sort of like routine. Change is not my friend. In fact, change in my life usually takes a congressional mandate if not an act of God. And even those aren't always successful.

Which is interesting because in a social situation, I am usually the planner. I love to have a group of friends together and it doesn't really matter WHAT we're doing. I'll get friends together whenever and wherever I can.* But, if left to my own devices, I'm finding that the older I get the more I like my weeks to have some routine. I like to go to work, go home and walk my dog, and then spend an quiet evening reading or knitting or basically trying to see if I really can get my couch to have a permanent indentation that is the exact size of my butt. And once I have an idea of how my evening is going to go, it's not that easy to change on a moment's notice. In short, I'm getting boring. But I secretly sort of like it that way.

The boy? The boy is all about spontaneity. The boy has no idea what he's doing most evenings. The boy probably doesn't know what he's doing in the next hour. And even MORE incredibly to me, he can have plans for this evening, and then change them at the last minute. OMG - I cringe just thinking about the uncertainty.

Despite what you may be thinking, this has never been a bone of contention in our relationship.**

But for two nights this week, I've found myself in completely unplanned situations. And I didn't die. The first was when I got to go bicycle shopping. After repeated badgering by Candy and I, zlionsfan opted not to fix the bike that he had languishing in his garage, but instead chose to purchase a pretty shiny new bike. From a bike shop. So I got to go shopping, I didn't spend any money, and I got to help spend a good amount of money that wasn't mine. What's not to like about that? As soon as that was over, I assumed we would each go our separate ways home.

But apparently there was dinner involved. This dinner was assumed to be part of the plans by two out of the three participants.

Um, okay. This was unplanned, but not completely out of the question. Hmmm....Casey had been walked, I was already with friends, I was hungry - why not eat?

Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

Dinner was fun. (I had fun at an unplanned event.)

So now that a bike had been purchased, we made plans to ride together last night. At one of my favorite places. And ride we did. Another friend, Nicole, came along and we rode our bikes for about two hours (with Casey who ran along with us the entire time.) It was fabulous. The weather was perfect, the riding was both leisurely and heartbreakingly impossible***, and there was plenty of conversation to keep us all occupied the entire time.

When we ended the ride, Casey was worn out. I stopped to say goodbye, and she immediately laid down on the ground. I started thinking about what I was going to have for dinner, and how peaceful the night would be with Casey completely passed out, and how I couldn't wait to get back to the book I was reading. And then Nicole mentioned dinner plans to Candy. And my immediate internal dialogue was, (no joke) "They're going to dinner? I wonder if it's just the two of them. Will they invite me? OH MY GOD WHAT IF THEY INVITE ME? WHAT AM I GOING TO SAY?"

At that point Nicole said, "Does anyone else want to come?"

And my mouth said, "Sure! Where are we going?"

I'm sure it seemed normal to everyone else, but I honestly don't remember making the decision to go. And once it was made, I'm not sure that everyone in my head was entirely happy about it. But we all went out to eat, and surprisingly, I again didn't die. In fact, I had a good time.

When I went home and was cuddled on my couch with a very tired dog, I reflected on my two unplanned outings. Hmmm....unplanned, but still good. Maybe the boy was right? Spontaneous is still okay. Maybe this is the beginning of a change? But wait! Change is bad!! And the boy is never right! What to do, what to do?

In a fit of rebellion I made the immediate unplanned decision to paint my fingernails. See? I can be sponteneous! Look at me go!!****

*As long as I have at least 24 hours notice.
**That was a bold faced lie.
***See, there's this hill...
****Baby steps, people. Baby steps.

That which does not kill me...

Have I mentioned how much I love living in the city? City trumps suburbs. Seriously. There's just so much more character. And more little independent shops where the owners know your name. And just... more blue. It's so nice.

Anyway, I was talking with the boy this weekend, and I happened to mention what I call the "parade phenomenon" when I walk the dogs south of my house. He got a little worried and began to lecture me about walking the dogs alone. While I appreciate his concern, I feel safer on my own than I probably should. Besides, I'm not just going to subject the dogs to "yard only" unless I can find a walking companion. I can handle it.

Let me back up a little bit. When I take the dogs on a long walk, I generally go south of my house. The neighborhood is a bit rougher, but we end up a beautiful location that we all love. I try to go early in the mornings on the weekends, but during the week I generally have to go between the end of work and when the sun sets.

What I've noticed is that in the mornings, there's no one out. I can boogie my way down the street to JT and not see a soul. In contrast, in the later afternoons or evenings it seems like everyone is out on their porch. If they're not already on their porch, they come out when I'm walking past. I don't know if it's just because I'm in the racial minority, or because I'm a female walking two pit bulls, but I seem to get a lot of interest when I walk by.

I get a lot of kids who want to pet my dogs, and they always freak out when it's Blue they have to pet and not Casey. Apparently Blue is scary and Casey looks less threatening. Right.

I get a lot of younger guys who want to know if they can have puppies when I breed my dogs. So my mouth doesn't get me into trouble, I generally wave vaguely at my iPod and pretend that I can't hear those requests.

I get older gentlemen who ask about my dogs and I always stop and chat for a moment.

I get a lot of "Mmmmm, you GO girl" from other women when they see my dogs.

Apparently, even though I do not perceive a threat in any of those scenarios, the boy thinks that I should have a chaperone when walking in the evenings. Which led to the following exchange.

"I just, you know, worry about you. If you got attacked or something."
"Please. Attacked? I pity the fool who tries it."
"Are you kidding me? If a 200lb man wanted to have his way with you, he would."
"Yeah, but who's going to try?"
"Emily, you are FIVE FEET TALL!"

At this point, seeing his distress, I decided to have an honest conversation.

"Okay. Let's say some fool decides that my dogs aren't a problem or, God forbid, dispatches the dogs in some way. Why would I still be waiting around to see what he's going to do to me?"
"Sweetie, you can't run that fast. Even with adrenaline, I give him about two minutes before he catches up to you."
"Fine. Point taken. He chases me and catches me. I'm not saying that he wouldn't be able to have his way with me..."
"Thank GOD you're listening."
"...I'm not saying that I wouldn't be raped, or even possibly killed. But at least it will be easy to find the guy who did it."
"What?"
"Right. Just look for the guy with only one eye. Or missing his testicles. That's the guy who did it. Trust. And there will be TONS of forensic evidence on me. I watch CSI."
(massive eye rolling) "I'm sure."
"You think I wouldn't go down fighting? That I'm going to submissively LET him have his way with me? I'm sorry, have we met?"
"Point taken. But still, I would rather have you alive."
"Awh. I love you too. But, honestly, I'm not sure, um, how much protection, um, you would be. Um. Unless I tripped you while I was running away. Yeah, that might work!"
"Bitch."

I'm just glad he didn't consider what would happen if the guy knocked me out. Which is why I carry pepper spray. I'm not COMPLETELY dumb.

Joy

One day last winter, when Blue was still a newbie and skinny as a rail, the boy and I took Casey and Blue out to the tennis courts at the apartment complex and let them frolic in the fenced in area....in the snow. The sheer joy the showed while they pranced around, threw the snow in the air with their noses, and wrestled around on the ground until all you saw was a blur of blue and brown made me say, "This. This is why I have dogs."

I've been low on the willpower lately. I don't know if it's because all of my energy is focused on worrying about school, because it's getting cooler and my body is trying to enter hibernation mode (read: eat Qdoba 24/7), because tuition payments are sucking out my soul, or because I'm just worrying about school a lot (I'm sorry, did I list that twice? Hmmm.) but lately, if I want to watch football, I watch football. If I want to wear a sweatshirt to work, I wear a sweatshirt to work. (I think my boss is afraid to mention the sweatshirts.) Diet Coke? Psshhh. There is no "diet" in "stressed." If I want to have warm bodies to snuggle with in bed, I let the dogs sleep up with me. If I see juicy tasty dog treats that cost more than the food I'm buying myself, I buy them for the dogs. Apparently, if I am going to be stressed, I am going to use my dogs to bring me joy.

The dogs? They are getting spoiled. I don't think they mind being used.

There's a huge fenced in field near my house. "Fenced in" being the operative words there. It's part of Crown Hill Cemetery, and it contains tall grass, some dense woods, a huge wide open field, and (most importantly) an overabundance of deer. Now, pit bulls aren't like, say, beagles, or huskies. Pit bulls are pretty emotionally attached to their humans... So after a lecture about how I should trust my dogs more, I let them both off their leash and let them roam around the field. They didn't go far... until Blue spotted the deer. Immediately both dogs took off after the bouncing white tails. I would have been more frightened of losing my dogs if the scene hadn't been so hilarious. Neither Blue nor Casey is taller than maybe two feet from the ground, but while Casey is all legs, Blue is mostly muscle. The deer seemed to be as tall, if not taller, than I was...their backs, I mean. Their heads seemed like they would tower over me. Not to mention the antlers on some of them. Sheesh. There is no hunting in the cemetery, so these deer are BIG.

While Blue is moving his little legs as fast as he possibly can, the deer are getting further and further away from him. Still, he's running with a huge grin on his face and his tongue flapping in the wind. The deer disappeared into the woods, and without hesitation, Blue crashed in after them. At this point, even though I had lost sight of my dog, I could hear him crashing through sticks and leaves and in general being about the worst tracker he could be. He's not a graceful dog to begin with, so I could tell he was using the "run through obstacles" option instead of the "avoid obstacles" option.

Meanwhile, one deer had peeled itself from the group and veered away from the woods and back into the meadow. This is the one that Casey decided to pursue. Her legs are longer, and she's pretty agile, so it was awesome to watch her keep up with the deer as it zigged and zagged across the field. She never gained any ground, but she was definitely hanging in there. Eventually her deer went into the woods also, and she followed.

For a while, everything was quiet while I waited. I counted the seconds in my head to keep myself from freaking out. "...fifty-nine....sixty. It's only been a minute. Everything is fine. Sixty-one...sixty-two..."

Off in the distance, so small that they appeared to be no more than an inch tall, a deer appeared followed by a brown and white blur, then disappeared back into the woods. I paced and waited. After learning my lesson previously, I remained in the last place the dogs had seen me and waited for them to return.

Almost exactly five minutes after they had run off, both dogs appeared heading towards me from opposite directions. Casey was panting and bounding towards me. She almost barreled into me, but dodged at the last minute. On her return trip to me, she jumped up in the air to show me how much fun she had just had. She was almost saying, "Do it again mom! Bring the deer back again!!!" Blue, on the other hand, slowly walked towards me and fell over on his side as soon as he reached me. All I heard from him were snorting gasps while he attempted to catch his breath through the huge grin on his face. I could not stop laughing. For the rest of the walk, no leashes were needed since the dogs remained within twenty feet at all times.

Ever since that day, we've gone back to the field several times, and each time the routine is the same. Dogs see deer. Dogs chase deer. Dogs return exhilarated and exhausted. Emily is thrilled. (Though she's always careful NOT to let the dogs go if she sees fawns...) I've been trying to take pictures, but my camera is too slow....all you see are blurs :-) Lately, I think the deer are no longer frightened of Blue (who will never catch them, but NEVER fails to chase them if given the chance.) They will see him coming, wait until I'm sure they can see the whites of his eyes, and then run away. Poor Blue either doesn't understand that he has no chance, or simply doesn't care. I think it's the latter. To him, the running is worth it. Casey doesn't seem to be as driven. Sometimes she'll chase the deer. Other times she'll see them and it's almost like she thinks, "Meh. Not worth it."

I realize that it's an odd way to relieve stress, but desperate times call for desperate measures. The fact that I'm outside in the beautiful fall weather, coupled by the fact that this is cheap entertainment, coupled with the fact that I'm certain the dogs will never catch a deer...well, it's more fun than memorizing all the bones in the human body....

So what do you do to relieve stress? Any other cheap easy suggestions that may or may not involve dogs?

(Oh yes, and thanks for all of the suggestions for studying... I've made flash cards in the past with mixed results, so I'm trying them again. And I searched for online quizzes, but mostly found multiple choice options. What I need are "fill in the blank." Any other ideas to help memorization are greatly appreciated. As of now, I carry my flash cards everywhere. Yep. I'm pretty cool...)

Happy Hunting (with illustrations)

I like to figure things out. Like anyone, I want to know the answers. I want to know WHY. But, unlike others (most notably, the boy,) it's not always about the knowing for me. Sometimes it's more about the finding out. It's about the searching. So I like to find random information by what I call scavenger hunts. Let me explain...

The rules are pretty dependent on the situation, but I like to ask people (friends, relatives, strangers on the street) whatever question we are discussing, and see if they have the answer. Sort of like a "shout out" on Cash Cab. I generally don't like to consult any type of reference text or the internet. I like to poll the general public.

For example, the boy and I were driving somewhere once and for fun decided to take the Friends challenge and name all 50 states. When we were successful (and pretty full of ourselves) we attempted all 50 state capitals. We got stuck on South Carolina. I had an atlas in the back (that I didn't mention to the boy) but we started calling friends and acquaintances at my suggestion. The first three calls yielded nothing, but it was still fun to call random friends, ask them a random question, and then see where the conversation led. I was enjoying myself. I didn't notice the boy getting antsy. The next call was to the boy's parents. When they didn't know the answer, I heard him ask his mom to get a map. I got upset. He ruined the game! I wanted to know the answer, of course, but I also enjoyed calling friends and family and having brief conversations about what people thought and how embarrassed we were about not really knowing. I didn't really care if I found out the answer right then. (I also got several emails the following Monday from everyone who had either looked it up or remembered in their sleep that night...) I couldn't really explain why the map was cheating, but I knew that it was. The boy thought I was crazy. After several other such "scavenger hunts" he's more resigned to my antics, but he still doesn't always like it.

I call my scavenger hunting another adorable quirk. Others might call it "one more reason why Emily is still single." I'm sure zlionsfan will use it as more proof that I am an extrovert (and not an introvert in extrovert's clothing as I am fond of claiming.) Whatever. I just think it's more about the journey than the destination sometimes.

Since the move, I've been exploring the neighborhood more and more on my walks with the dogs. With the beautiful weather lately, our walks have gotten longer and longer. Luckily, I live within walking distance to both my alma mater and Crown Hill Cemetery,. (come find me stalkers!!) Both great places to walk dogs.

I was introduced to Crown Hill when I was in college. My then-roommate took a field trip to the highest point in Indianapolis.
When I asked where it was, she wouldn't tell me, so I set out to find it for myself. Turns out, it's the tomb of James Whitcomb Riley and it's got a GREAT view of the Indianapolis skyline. I've since returned to his grave several times with random friends and family in tow. Not only are the grounds of the cemetery beautiful, but with this view, I think it's a neat little trip to take. Now that I'm within walking distance, it's a trek that the dogs and I take regularly. The hill makes me feel like I'm actually getting a workout - Bonus! I used to always drive when I would take friends and family. Now that I'm walking more, I've stumbled upon the grave of Benjamin Harrison as well, so I was curious about the other famous people who are buried in Crown Hill. When I printed off the list, both the boy and I were most intrigued with finding the grave of John Dillinger. Originally I thought we could just search for it on our own. The boy humored me at first. I think he knew this would be short lived. Um, I'm not so good with spatial relationships. After walking though just one part of the cemetery, and then rounding a bend in the road to see yet another huge area stretching before us, I got an idea of just how large the third largest non-government cemetery (and 555 acres) really is. So I set about finding a "clue."

After rollerblading one night (I thought we could cover more ground that way) we ran into the evening security man. I struck up a conversation and asked him about Dillinger's grave. He named the road it was near. Sweet! The next day the boy and I went back with the dogs and combed the area near that road. No dice. I still thouroughly enjoyed myself - after all, it was a warm summer night, the dogs were getting exercised, we were taking what amounted to a very nice stroll.... Nothing lost, right? The boy, however, was frustrated. He wanted to find the grave NOW. We hadn't reached our goal! The horror!! On our way out that night, we saw the security guy again, and at the boy's request, I stopped to get more information as to where the grave was specifically located. The security man thought for a second and then offered to meet us the next night at 7:00 pm to take us there himself.

The boy was excited. Me? Well... I still wanted to do it myself. I mused to the boy that if only I could find a picture of the grave with some background included, maybe that would be enough. The boy was already impatient after a fruitless night of searching and said that my idea probably wouldn't work anyway.

Undeterred, I searched the next afternoon and found this:

BINGO! That was EXACTLY what I wanted. The building in the back? White with big windows? Surely I could find that. I left work at 5:00 and had the dogs with me at Crown Hill by 5:30. At first I walked along the road where I had been with the boy, but in the opposite direction. Nothing. And of course, this was one of those beastly hot days. Luckily, there are plenty of spigots for the dogs to drink from. At 6:10, I figured I was in the wrong place, and we turned back. By the time we got back to the car, I was ready to admit defeat and just meet our guide to find the grave. I hadn't really lost anything, right? I had just had a nice walk and I was pretty much ensured a peaceful evening with tired dogs. I didn't really care that I hadn't found anything...I still knew that eventually we would find the grave. But then, at the last minute, when I realized that I had a bit more time to kill, I decided to drive back along the ground that the boy and I had already covered. At that point, I saw this:



SWEET!! Since the boy and I had already covered the ground closest to the road, I took a path a bit further back and while driving past, suddenly spotted this:



I believe my exact words were, "Holy shit, I found it!" I could NOT believe it and I was ridiculously pleased with myself. The dogs didn't seem to understand the magnitude of my achievement. After several attempts to take Casey's picture with Dillinger's grave, (she was more interested in the squirrel that was tormenting Blue) I finally contented myself with the grave itself and took off to meet the boy.



When I met the boy, we waited to meet the security man amidst more cars than we had ever seen at the funeral home. I'm not sure whose funeral was in progress, but he sure had a lot of friends. In that chaos, we waited until 7:10 and never saw our guide. The boy was dejected. I debated telling him what I had done, and then rationalized that he would be happier if he actually got to see the grave, right? So I pulled out my camera and showed him the picture. He didn't understand at first and then said, "You found it?"

"Damn right I did!!" I couldn't even contain my glee at this point. Surprisingly, he wasn't upset. Maybe he figured that even if the journey is what's important to me, that's okay - as long as he gets to the destination also. We'll see if that happens. For now, he was happy to find Dillinger's grave.