Waxing Chaotic

Update

400/300/265/160

My Confession

i told you about the shameful things i did when i was a young pup.

i think it was my first or second post on here.



today, i received news that the person who took those terrible pictures is selling them to the daily papaz; i have to air my laundry here first.




these are the photos of a young, naive dog who needed the money. i really thought they were "art" photos. i never dreamed it would come to this.






my person says she still loves me. she understands. i can't believe i almost took my collar off. i am so ashamed. i wish the paparazzi would just leave me alone! it's so hard so be a rich, sexy dog these days. why can't they go rent one night in paris and leave me be!

I Snore

i snore loud. i snore long. i snore like i swallowed a tractor.

i am puppy, hear me roar.

my person sometimes has to tell me to roll over. it tuns out that approach doesn't really work all that well with puppies. this puppy is a rock star, and i've got a concert going on every night. now playing: muzzle madness. if you don't like it, sleep somewhere else. but, just to warn you, my person told me that you can hear me from the street if you walk by at night when it's quiet.

Girl VS Nature

my person decided that she would hike the nature trail since she was up relatively early today. she grabbed a quick mf drink, got some water in her, slapped on the walkman, and headed out. it was already 81 degrees when she got out of her car, but she had a spring in her step, a bottle of water, and ambition.

hike on!

so, it turns out, it's not so mucha naure trail as a road to hell. seriously, she saw satan standing at the side of the road panting at one point. up, down, up, down. if you rolled a tennis ball down the trail, it would never stop, because there is no flat land anywhere. steep? hmmm. maybe.

there weren't many people out. apparently, other actually showed up when common sense was distributed. but we all know common sense isn't so fucking common, so as others gasped for breath and turned around, my person hiked on. the trail is only 2 miles. they are the 2 most hellish, unsheltered, water-free, miles ever. at approximately the 1.5 mile mark, the path dsappears. the bridge across the ravine is out. my person has about an ounce or two of water left. fuck.

ass kicking score: trail 1, my person 0.

she stood there for a while, weighing her options. she could turn back, but that would mean another 1 and a half miles of torture without water. it was freaking hot. it was freaking steep... she looked down the ravine and saw rocks and such staggered down. it was only about 12 feet deep. across the opening, there was a slight incline and some fence post. could she make it down without breaking something important? could she get UP the other side?

my person took a deep breathsat at the edge of the ravine, and climbed down into it. now, this is not the smartest thing she's ever done. visions of getting stuck down there and having to wait until some other crazy ass hiker stumbled upon the washed out area floated in her head. no one wants to wind up on the tv with the headline "breaking news" under their name. but she did not want to bow down to physical limitations any more. she made her way to the other side and began to work her way up by gripping the rock out croppings. when she pulled herself over the edge, she finished her water, laughed, and thanked god that her overall ability had imprved so much over the last year or so.

ass kicking score: trail 1, my person, 1.

ironically enough, after the ravine is where the trail got really serious. the next half a mile was pretty much straight up. her legs burned, her chest heaved, she was sweating buckets. but she did not sit. she did not stop. she plowed on like she was blazing a trail into the future. near the crest, she snapped a pic of where she had been.

ass kicking score: trail 1, my person 2.

the next few minutes were as grueling as anything she has done in the last 10 years. finally, she hit the brief stretch of paved road that let her know that she was close to the end. she looked left and right-- unsure of which way was out. then she smiled. if she went the wrong way, she could turn around and go back. the paved road, uphill as it was, had nothing on what she had just conquered.

ass kicking score: trail 1, my person 3.

game. set. match.

we'll both see you next weekend, nature trail. bring your best game, cause it's gonna be brutal the way we work your hills and laugh.

It's Hot

my face is furry, my feet are furry, my ass is furry.
how does a girl get some damn relief???

by attacking the fountain in the backyard, of course.

oh, you may have won the first round, you water-spewing menace, but i will be back with reinforcements.
i will take you down! you and your little bird-friends, too.

Speaking of Improved

the ducks signed chris pronger.
i repeat:
the ducks signed chris pronger.

my person's fall just got better. it really is christmas in july, baby. we got niedermayer. we got pronger. we got a blue line that could stand up a pack of bears on skates. they resigned teemu. they signed up andy mac again. the ducks are coming to 2007 ready to win.

now if i could just get them to become the anaheim cleopuptras. or the anaheim lillies. or the o.c. muttlies.
oh! how about the fuzzy butts of anaheim? hmm... inside joke.

well, i must run. the couch is calling me down for a nap.

Progress

400/300/270/160

30lbs in 48 days;
10% of my person, gone.

America Ferrera

she's smokin' hot.

just wanted to point that out.

All These Changes

"'How puzzling all these changes are," said Alice. "I'm never sure what I am going to be from one minute to another. However, I've got back to my right size: the next thing is to get into that beautiful garden.'"
-- lewis carroll



i guess the important thing to remember is that the garden needs to be weeded once in a while.

and nourished.

everything that lives and breathes and grows requires some amount of care. some people like to think they can do all of their own upkeep, but those are the ones who become brittle and dry from neglect. sometimes there is something wrong at the root, and we blame our gardener out of frustration. but nothing beats the results of careful tending and patience.

everything grows. eventually, everything dies. it is often up to us to decide how much effort we will put into the garden.

changes are puzzling. some people try to get into the garden; some people decide to slash and burn their way to something new. the thing to remember is that when the soil has been revitalized and the planting begins, what is really hoped for... is a new garden. chronically unhappy, some people will always destroy the thing they want and then agonize as they wait for the next incarnation of their garden to grow again.

what if it never grows back? what if you always long for what you destroyed?
getting back to your right size can be a bit of a challenge.
if there is no growth, what is left?


"As she said this, she came suddenly upon an open place, with a little house in it about four feet high.`Whoever lives there,' thought Alice, `it'll never do to comeupon them THIS size: why, I should frighten them out of theirwits!' So she began nibbling at the righthand bit again, and did not venture to go near the house till she had brought herself down to nine inches high."
-- lewis carroll

Progress

400/300/272

"If"

If you can keep your head when all about you,
men are losing theirs and blaming it on you.
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
but make allowances for their doubting, too.
If you can wait, but not be tired of waiting.
Or being lied about, don't deal in lies.
Or being hated, don't give way to hating.
And yet, don't look too good, nor talk too wise.

If you can dream, and not make dreams your master.
If you can think, and not make thoughts your aim.
If you can meet with triumph and disaster,
and treat those two impostors just the same.
If you can bear to hear the truth you've spoken,
twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools.
Or watch the things you gave your life to broken,
and stoop and build them up with worn-out tools.

If you can make one heap of all your winnings,
and risk it on one turn of pitch and toss.
And lose and start again at your beginnings,
and never breathe a word about your loss.
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew,
to serve your turn long after they are gone.
And to hold on when there is nothing in you,
but the will that says to them "hold on".

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
or walk with kings nor lose the common touch.
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you.
If all men count with you but none too much.
If you can fill the unforgiving minute,
with 60 seconds worth of distance run.
Yours is the Earth and everything that's in it,
and which is more, you will have Won.

--Rudyard Kipling