Sunday, July 24, 2011
Thursday, July 21, 2011
But of course, during the day I have sooooo much time on my hands. I have picked up my knitting. I am finishing a blanket I started a while ago and have started making knit rats. Yup rats. Cat toys actually. I make a little pouch filled with catnip and put that inside.
In a passing conversation with my cousin, he suggested I sell them on Etsy. I have to think about it. See if there is a market and see how much it will cost. I mean, its not like I am doing anything while I sit here trying to find a job.
Searching for a job is so nerve wracking. I hate it. Despite being qualified for jobs, they just don't hire. But enough of that.
Maybe this little venture might work. Maybe it won't.
Nothing ventured, nothing gained.
Thursday, July 14, 2011
I hate this, I really do. So much so right now I am nauseous. Takes a lot to get me rattled. Perhaps I just keep it all bottled up. I don't like to vent to other people because it's not their problem, it's mine. They have their own, and most of the time don't have the time to listen anyway.
So many doubts run through my mind. In myself, in my choices, in everything I do and have done. I have lived in Pittsburgh going on 10 years now and I still feel like a stranger despite being quite knowledgeable about the city. I feel like an outsider, a visitor. Maybe it's the Hispanic conservative Southerner in me. Who knows, but I feel it nonetheless.
Pittsburgh is all about ethnic identity and neighborhood camaraderie. Unfortunately for me, my ethnicity is a super minority here.
I grew up a few miles from the Mexican border to a large, conservative, Hispanic family. My maternal grandfather was born in the interior of Mexico but emigrated (the legal way) with his family when he was 5 years old. The rest of my grandparents were US born. Though I am part Mexican, Spanish, Scots-Irish and Cherokee through my descendants, my family never raised me to pick a nation from which I descended to be my ethnicity. I'm an American of Hispanic descent. I'm not Mexican American, not Irish or Spanish or Native American. Just American. My paternal great-grandparents were born 20 years before the Civil War in Texas. And she died in 1950 at the age of 104 having lived through the Civil War, Spanish American War, WW I & WW II and the start of the Korean War. So my sense of patriotic pride only naturally lies with the country that for over 200 years has kept my family so safe and secure. It seems silly to me to throw my lot in with the rest and call myself Mexican or Polish or Italian or Ukrainian.
Am I so wrong? Are my ideas too...American? I don't begrudge anyone the right to recognize their heritage because I do recognize that my fair skin is from my Irish and Spanish side and my hair is from my Mexican side. But was born and raised an American and that is what I will be.
Perhaps I am too strong willed. Lord knows it has gotten me into arguments at times. Just exercising my God given and Constitutional right to be opinionated and freewilled.
Weird tangents I have run off on.
I lay here listening to the sounds in my house. The dog changing positions to sleep. The cats skulking about. Settling noises, air conditioner running. And I think of how far we have come and how far we could slip. It's terrifying you know. But I have faith in God, that things will get better, for the better despite any hardships we have to go through. How else would we discover the wonders of life if without something to compare them to.
All I really know is life cannot be wasted with waiting and worry. We must make things happen now because life is far to precious to let it go by without cherishing the time we do have and losing it in hurrying without enjoyment.
Love one another like it's last time.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Bath time is a couple hour event. First comes brushing him out to get as much shedded hair out of his coat as possible. Sounds way easier than it really is. Mal (as we call him) does not like to be brushed out because he is sensitive (please note the sarcasm). Sooo it takes two of us, a treat and his favorite triceratops squeaky toy. If you part his fur you can easily find his skin below the coat, but DAMN this dog has so much excess fur.
After removing enough fur to create a separate Mal, we fill the tub with warm water and have to use ANOTHER treat to coax him into the bathroom and close the door. Thus ensues the crying and whining. You would think we were leading him to slaughter the way he cries. I sit on the edge of the tub with my feet in the water and hubby dearest picks up the crying, quivering 35 pounds of black fur and gently sets him in. I swear this dog had a horrible problem with water before he was picked up as a stray in Georgia. His heart starts to pounds and his breathing becomes labored. So before we can even begin to bathe him, we have to calm him down and keep him bolting across.
Cleaning soon starts and as I do the dirty work, hubby croons and whispers lies to Mal telling him "Just one more minute and you will be done." Yeah, sure. After washing him and rinsing him all out we have to wait for the tub to empty so we can partially dry him in the tub. Learned from the last couple baths that letting him out of the tub to try is a very, very wet proposition. The first time we did that, he shook the water out and it was on the walls, ruined a whole roll of toilet paper and actually ponding on the floor. Never again.
Once we let him out to shake off the last of the water and opened the door, he bolted out like he was being released from 20 years of hard time. Those poor cats had no idea he was going to be running free.
I am so glad the bath is done and I dread the next one. But for now...he is clean.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
I learned many great things there. From how to care for a customer to how to make someone happy with the simplest of gifts. At times the work would be very strenuous, but despite my seemingly lazy demenor, I enjoyed the challenge that came with the work and all that it entailed.
I wish in finding a new job, I could stay in the same field. But due to the time of the year, it is the slowest time for work and so now I sit and wait and search in other fields to find something to keep us going.
And of course, life has thrown us yet another curve ball. My most wonderful husband has been let got as well. So here we both are in search of new employment. The cabin fever is starting to set in and yet with no income to really speak of, we are slowly but surely going to go crazy sitting at home trying to find jobs not able to go and enjoy what is out there for lack of funds.
So here I sit, hoping to get my thoughts out so they don't get all bogged in my mind as I try to find something to do.