Something you would never see in Edmond

Having lived in Norman off and on for 10 years now, I’ve grown used to the people zooming around on hoverounds. I’ve also grown used to the people on bicycles… I’m pretty sure Norman is the most bike-friendly (read “bike-tolerant”) city in OK. I’ve become fond of the “asian bum” who looks just like Mr. Miyagi and wanders the streets of Norman year round, rain or snow, with a trench coat on his head. I’ve even had the mentally challenged “guy who wears OU helmet all the time and sells newspapers” try to sell me a newspaper. I’ve grown used to the people with mental illnesses walking the streets of Norman day and night talking to themselves. I’ve even swerved to miss hitting a few smelly hippies with my car. It gives the city some diversity.

But I saw the coolest thing I’ve ever seen in Norman on Friday night… Jared and I both saw “guy with mental illness riding a bike WHILE playing a harmonica.” It was the coolest thing ever. We were in my mom’s convertible at the time, so we even heard the harmonica. He was playing it with both hands while apparently riding his bike for transportation. It was great. Norman has reached a new level of awesomeness.

And that’s what makes Norman so much cooler than Edmond.

Back from Iraq!

I am slowly making the transition over to using facebook more than myspace, so I’ve been cross-posting my blogs on both. If you’re not on facebook yet, you should be. It’s not just for college students anymore. Anyway…

My cousin Evan is back in the U S and A. He’s a marine and he’s been stationed in Iraq since April… now he’s back stateside for awhile, until January we hear. Even though I have never lived in the same state as Evan, and I have only seen him a few times a year for my entire life, of course I’m glad that he’s home safely. He’s a great cousin, a super fun-guy (ha ha), and I can’t wait to see him at Thanksgiving.

His mom and stepdad (my aunt and uncle) flew to from KY to CA to see him the second he landed safely today. They’ve been on a voluntary beer fast the whole time he’s been gone (in support of Evan not being able to drink while in Iraq), and I’m sure the 3 of them will be reacquainting themselves with ye olde ale and lager tonight. I hear he’s really skinny now. Apparently mess hall food in Iraq isn’t the most delicious food in the world.

That’s about it. I’m just happy he’s back safe.

Aaaaaaaagh! Frickin skunks!

Apparently there is a full-on skunk epidemic in Norman. Pinto (the idiot dog) narrowly escaped being sprayed again last night. This time the skunk was in OUR BACKYARD, and we saw the whole chihuahua-on-skunk conflict go down. Pinto, for no reason, suddenly freaked out and zoomed full speed out the doggie door to our backyard, barking wildly. Of course we followed him and turned on the backyard flootlight. He ran right up to a big skunk that was about 15 feet away from our back door. He was freaking out and barking at it right in its face. Fortunately, the skunk only hissed at him and got in a threatening posture. We opened the back door and were screaming at Pinto to come back into the house. Fortunately he did finally come back inside, only narrowly escaping another spraying.

Also, our dogs have never had a flea problem… but in the past month they’ve had fleas crawling all over them. It’s disgusting. I’ve given both of them multiple flea baths, but you’re only supposed to do that about once every 2 weeks, and the fleas always come back within a few days. I put some frontline on both of them last night, and as of right now, the fleas are still there. They’re all supposed to be dead within 24 hours of application, so if I still see any fleas by 9:00 pm tonight, I’m demanding a refund!

Norman is a zoo now, apparently.

In other news, law school sucks and I miss my husband. He feels the same way.

The saga, Part IV

I’m thinking that the skunklets may deserve death after all.

We had our entire house recarpeted on Monday. Our dogs stayed at my parents’ house in Edmond for a few days while we moved furniture around and had the carpet put in. Last night Jared and I went to Edmond to pick up our dogs (who were THRILLED to see us, by the way). Once we got them home, we were concerned about them “marking their territory” on the new carpet because the guy who installed our carpet said that even the best trained dogs usually do pee on new carpet as soon as it’s put in. Our little dogs were so good and have not peed on the new carpet yet as far as we can tell.

An hour after we brought the dogs home last night we were laying in bed about to go to sleep (with the door closed and the dogs in the living room), when we noticed a terrible smell. We went out to investigate and immediately discovered that Pinto got skunked AGAIN… then came inside and walked around and rubbed himself on the brand new carpet.
Poor Pinto and Elmer had to be subjected once again to the discomfort of a peroxide and baking soda bath. The dogs don’t smell like skunk anymore, but our new carpet still does. I sprayed febreeze on it, but I’m sure it will be a few days before the smell fades entirely away.

Happy frolicking or not, I’m thinking that two spraying incidents in a year is two too many. I am now almost mentally prepared for an all out skunk massacre, babies and all.

A skunk-date (that’s skunk and update combined)

Jared has figured out that the skunk lair is in the sewer, specifically the drain at the corner of our street by the roundabout. He saw a skunkzilla (not a skunklet) go into that drain last night around around midnight as he was driving home from work (now, why he was coming home from work after midnight is a story in itself). Anyway, we now know where the lair of the skunks is. It’s in the sewer. I picture them having skunk parties down there during the day as everyone is at work. Perhaps they hang out with some mutant ninja turtles down there, I wonder if they know Splinter. Then at night they come out to terrorize the chihuahuas of the neighborhood and eat trash out of our ghetto neighbor’s trash can that they leave dumped over in their backyard.

My vote is still to let the skunks live. Unlike some of my friends who have no moral qualms about shooting armadillos multiple times (then laughing about it), I don’t feel right about calling the city to kill the skunks. The probability of one of them spraying Pinto or Elmer again is low (ok, it’s actually moderate to low), and now I know what to do if it happens again. Perhaps I should check into to the possibility of a “no-kill” pest removal service as a friend suggested, but I highly doubt that such a thing exists for skunk removal.

Skunkin it up part II

I saw 3 baby skunks happily frolicking on my street at about 12:30 am the other night (I’m very well attuned to skunk body language so that’s how I knew that they were happily frolicking). Apparently my neighborhood is a breeding ground for hordes of little skunklets. If you’ve ever seen a little skunklet you know that they’re extremely cute.

I’m torn… do I want my neighborhood rid of skunks (and the resulting skunklets), or do I want to run the risk of myself or one of my dogs getting sprayed (again and again)??? Not to mention that according to my vet, skunks are the 1 transmitter of rabies (to dogs) in Oklahoma. He told me in no uncertain terms that if you see a skunk walking around in the daytime, it has rabies. Seeing a skunk at night is unnerving, but at least the worst thing that could happen is you get sprayed and smell terrible for a week.

Who am I to play God, right? The only thing the skunklets have done wrong is to be born smelly, and into a modern world unfriendly to skunks. I would call the city to “get rid” of them, but I know that means certain death for the poor skunklets. People keep (de-scented) skunks as pets, apparently they’re intelligent and sweet little animals if they grow up with humans. Why did these poor little skunklets in my neighborhood have the misfortune of being hated and despised, while I sit with a sweet little loved doglet on my lap (who also happens to be really smelly right now)?

I know we live in a fallen world, but I will always have a slight revulsion to eating any kind of meat. The thought of a slaughterhouse makes me sad, and it doesn’t help much even if it’s as cruelty free as possible (though that does help a lot). The principle is still the same. It really bothers me that conscious beings have to die so I can live. I have moral qualms about killing “pests” in or around my house, even if they’re mice **shudder** or spiders. I know there’s “natural evil” in the world, animals eat other animals in the wild, but something inside me still cries out injustice. The only hope I have is that someday it will all be made right.

I could definitely write a massive blog just on this subject, but the skunk issue remains. As a recap, here’s what I learned from Pinto’s traumatic skunk experience a few months back……. baking soda, peroxide, and dish soap can take that skunk smell right off a dog. Remeber that, and you’ll be fine.

A learning experience

I didn’t realize buyer fraud was so widespread on eBay. If you’re an eBay seller, here’s a tip… if you are only willing to ship to buyers within the United States, it is not enough to state that clearly in your listing. You also have to change your eBay account settings to block buyers registered outside the U.S. from bidding at all.

I’m selling a Playstation 2 package (w/ games and lots of extras) on eBay for a friend, and I was really happy to see that it had sold early, via “Buy it now” for $200, which was way more than we were expecting to get for it. Right after receiving the email from eBay that the item had sold, I got a weird email from the buyer in broken English saying something about how he was currently in London, and he wanted me to ship the PS2 package to his son in Nigeria. My immediate response to that was “Um… no,” especially after checking out his eBay profile and seeing that he was a brand new user with 0 feedback. I declined his bid, and the next day I was not surprised at all to see that he had deleted his eBay account and was no longer a registered eBay user.

So if you’re a seller online, be very careful. I have since changed my account settings to only accept bids from buyers within the U.S. It’s the only way to really protect myself from fraud. Fortunately, nothing was lost except a little bit of time (I’ll be able to re-list everything for no additional fees), and I gained a very important learning experience. Sorry if it’s not a sexy or exciting learning experience, and sorry if it doesn’t make for great blogging material, but such is life.

Skunkin’ in up

Having your dog get sprayed by a skunk and then promptly run in the house and jump up on your lap is a very traumatic experience. It was a 2 hour ordeal involving me gasping for breath while my poor dogs had to sit in the bathtub for 20 minutes covered in an anti-skunk smell concoction (which fortunately worked very well). I was truly not aware that skunk smell was that overpowering at close range. I actually had to leave the house for awhile for fear of passing out from the smell.

A lesson learned… hydrogen peroxide mixed with baking soda and dish soap really does work for getting skunk smell off of dogs. Pinto and Elmer don’t smell today at all. Now I just have to figure out how to get the smell off our couch. It’s probably going to take a few weeks.

Don’t eat the fish!!!

You know what is more miserable than just about anything? Food poisoning. You know who got fairly severe food poisoning the other night? Me.

At a large gathering on Saturday, myself and many others made the huge mistake of eating the beer battered fish, which tasted great going in… and not so good coming back up. Only my husband was smart enough to abstain from the food. I have to give him many props for his superior intuition. I should probably start listening to him when he advises me not to eat something. I think maybe the flies circling all the food should have clued me in to not eat anything… but I was really hungry!

Anyway, use discretion when choosing what to eat at large potluck-style gatherings. Nothing ruins a party like mass-food poisoning. At least 4 other people that I know of got sick, but I think I had it the worst of any of them. The good news is that I’m feeling much better today, and I think I lost about 4 lbs.

We never change, do we?

I spent way too many hours on myspace tonight looking at the profiles of dozens of people I knew from high school and from the past 10 years. Over and over I was struck by how much no one has changed… and I emphasize that very strongly. It’s really weird. Apparently I’m the only person I know who has changed significantly since I was 15, and I am extremely glad for it. I am SO glad I am not the same person I was at 15, 18, even at 21.

I am more comfortable with who I am now than I ever have been. By that I mean I am far more mature and a much less awkward person now than ever before. My interests have drastically changed, my personality has mellowed out significantly, and now I actually care about other people instead of only giving lip service to caring (even though I still have a long way to go in that arena). I have gone through phases of fake caring and contrived passion even recently, which I am still mildly embarrassed for. I’m sure I do things on a regular basis now that I will be embarassed for even in a year… and I’m glad for that. I’m glad for maturity.

It seems like so many people I know reject the idea of “maturity” as some lame social convention. I did. When I was 15 I wrote these lyrics and belted them out in front of literally tens of people:

(Verse)
My dad says dress nice don’t tie your shoes
Cover that hickey and wash your hair
But I’m having fun anyway
And I don’t give a f—ing care

(Chorus)
But I don’t care
And it’s alright with me
Cause I enjoy myself
F— what’s right socially

(You can see how cool I was by inserting expletives to add emphasis to my point).

I think at the time I was reacting against something real that was and is messed up in society and in my personal life, I was just doing it in an extremely childish way. Thank God that blogs and myspace didn’t exist back then, because my immature teenage musings would be forever saved in some archive on the internet. I am glad for how far I’ve come, and I don’t ever want to go back to where I was.

The lyrics I posted above were from a song I wrote called “content” (content as in contentment… not as in the contents of my purse). The challenge for my life now is to not become content with myself at any point. I should always be content with what I have or posess, but never with who I am. I don’t mean physically, I mean mentally and spiritually. I know I am not “basically good”, as so many postmoderns would have me believe. I have seen into the depths of my own heart, and what is there is not “basically good”.

Now I’ve gone into totally different territory, when my main point was about change. I’m glad I’ve changed. Change is a good thing. I’m amazed that so many other people I know have not changed at all, even in 10 years. Read Who Moved My Cheese? It’s good stuff.

Name that philosopher

Terrible picture of me… but brilliant man. Let’s play name that philosopher! (Also, ties with buffalo on them are my new favorite fashion accessory… AND he was wearing cowboy boots with his suit. Best fashion sense ever!).

This blog is not dead, it just hasn’t really gotten started yet.

We’re goin to Texas… We’re goin to Texas…

Well, I’m off to Austin this morning to go see William Lane Craig, Peter Kreeft, and Frederica Matthewes Green speak at a C.S. Lewis conference on Saturday. See my main page for Dr. Craig’s lecture on the absurdity of life without God.

Yes, I am extremely excited. Yes, my husband and I are huge nerds. Christian Philosophy conferences are what all the cool kids are going to on their vacations nowadays…. Haven’t you heard?

Good Neighbors and Many Sparrows

I about soiled my pants when I got a call on my cel today that started with the words “Do you have 2 chihuahuas?” Apparently my dogs got out of the backyard today and were running together down our (fairly high traffic for a neighborhood) street. This really nice girl named Ashley saw them on the street and stopped her car to get out and check their tags. They ran from her up to my front porch where they sat looking terrified. She made friends with Elmer and got my cel number off his tag (Elmer is a sweetheart). Pinto was so scared that he tried to bite her when she tried to pick him up, so she stayed with them on the porch for 30 minutes while my husband and I raced home from OKC as fast as we could. Now my dogs are safe and sound (and not dead) thanks to the goodwill of a neighbor (and complete stranger) who actually checked their tags and called me.

Moral of the story… ALWAYS TAG YOUR DOGS. It’s not enough to just have a collar with the rabies tag on it. You need to have your name, address, and phone number printed on their tags.

And just so you don’t think I’m an irresponsible pet owner who doesn’t secure my fence, we are fairly certain that the OG&E meter reader guy let them out through the gate when he read our meter today. We did a thorough fence check when we got home, and the only way they could have gotten out was by someone not shutting the gate completely or accidentally leaving it open, and it looked like someone had opened our gate today. Also, we have had these dogs for going on 3 years and this is the first time they have ever gotten out.

Side note… Ask me about why this experience is an answered prayer, and why it has helped to strengthen my faith. I have become convinced that Pinto is worth at least 2 or 3 sparrows. Elmer’s probably worth like 4. Eh, maybe 5 on a good day.

Why are we here?

On this past Thanksgiving 2005, my husband and I had to go to not one… not two… but three Thanksgiving family get-togethers, all in the same day. The first of these (bright and early in the morning) included his mom, his two sisters, a brother in law, a soon-to-be brother in law, and a baby nephew. We didn’t find out until we had already got to the gathering that one of the sisters had invited one of her friends and her three kids, two boys and a girl, all between the ages of 4 and 9. That was fine because we had a ridiculous amount of food, and she apparently had no one to spend Thanksgiving with. But with us not used to being around kids, it made for some interesting conversation.

After spending about 30 minutes wrestling on the floor with the two boys (read: being viciously attacked, smacked, tackled, and hit by the two boys), Jared decided that enough was enough and sat down on the couch with me and the girl, age 9. The conversation between him, her, and I turned to her interests, what subjects she liked in school, and what kind of books she liked to read. Eventually she asked him, “What kind of stuff are you interested in?”

Jared told her, “Oh, I guess mostly philosophy and theology and stuff like that.”

Her, “What’s philosophy?”

Jared turned to me and asked in a low voice with a nervous laugh, “How do you tell a kid what philosophy is?” He answered her, “I guess it’s about asking the important questions like ‘Why are we here?’”

She looked genuinely puzzled. She kind of gave Jared a “you’re an idiot” look and then explained to him, “Well, we’re here because it’s Thanksgiving.” The inflection in her voice just about punctuated the sentence with, “duh!”

I am just like her.

So why are we here? I’m here right now because I can’t sleep tonight and my mind is racing with a billion thoughts and stupid nervousness. I’m here because between my husband’s and my 8-5 jobs we can afford a modest little house in Norman. I’m here because I was born into a family in a part of the world where I have the leisure time and the money to plink away pointlessly on a computer, or go back to my Stephen King guilty pleasure instead if I so choose.

There are so many brilliant people who tackle the real “Why are we here?” questions, I feel small and insignificant compared to them. I feel like all I can offer is simple, childlike, non-complex answers, and I feel guilty for not even caring to go deeper most of the time. Occasionally I will have an intellectual reawakening… and now is not one of those times. I feel as unintellectual now as I have ever felt, even with that piece of paper called a college degree in my posession. Right now I feel like “Why are we here?” really can be answered with a practical, easy answer. It’s the Dubya in me.

Now here’s another one of my favorite things:
(I am a very simple girl)

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