Wondering

if it's mean that I search for dogs freaking out on YouTube for my puppy to watch, because I've never had a dog that watched tv before? And it's the second best thing ever.

Second to what? Oh, chasing the other dog with the vacuum.

Bonding

Bonding
Originally uploaded by LorenAnn03.

My sister and I were playing our guitars together tonight. It's the best we've gotten along in months.

Puppyhood

Near the end of the semester last spring, I was sort of obsessed with the idea that I should have a dog. Then I moved home and got a job and realized that I probably wasn't responsible enough to train a puppy. So I gave up on that dream.

Now, something I've realized about myself is that I have a tendency to shy away from making big decisions until finally I give in and do something impulsive. Like buy a guitar. Or decide to go away for the weekend. Or get a dog.

I have to admit though that getting Francie wasn't completely impulsive. It certainly started out that way, but at first I was hesitant. I found a puppy online on a Friday night and on Saturday morning my dad came in my room and woke me up asking me if I'd called about the dog yet. It was 8:30.

What about my irresponsibility? What if I get a job somewhere and can't take a dog with me? My dad's reply? "But don't you want a cute little puppy?"

He had a point.

I have far exceeded my expectations as far as being responsible goes. I take her outside, and I discipline her, andd I generally do a better job at putting my pet first. Which is impressive because at first? She needed to go out like 3 times a night. You know I must really love you if I'm willing to get out of bed for you. I even have to get out of bed early for her, and that is a true testament to my affection for my puppy.

Here's the thing. It's quite possible I will never write about anything besides Francie ever again. So I apologize if I go long stretches without writing, because cuddling my little dog is way more fun than just writing about her.

Paranoid

I had to pick up my sister from driver's (drivers'? drivers?) ed last night, and because she is the slowest person I've ever met, she was the last person to leave. Seriously, you might think you know someone slower, but you don't. I picked her up last week, and it took her at least 30 seconds to get down three steps, across the sidewalk, and into the car. This was AFTER I had sat and honked the horn at her, but before she had to go back in because she'd forgotten something. Did I mention I wasn't parked, I was stopped on the road? In front of the building where new drivers are supposed to be learning safe and conscientious driving habits? Not that there's a lot of traffic in Loudonville at 9 o'clock on a Wednesday night, but still. She ought to have hurried, you know?

Anyway, last night she had been talking to her instructor. He also happens to have been my instructor all those years ago, and when he saw me waiting he followed my sister out to the car. Luckily, last night I opted to find a parking spot, so that at least looked responsible. But as soon as he stuck his head in the window I panicked. Were my wheels straight? Were my lights on? Could he see that I was wearing my seatbelt? Was I parked close enough to the curb?

And then I realized that all he wanted to do? Just say hello.

Good news first

The good news is: last weekend, I got a puppy:




The bad news is: today she figured out how to get up and down stairs.

Not in a creepy way, in a funny way

I carpooled to work with a friend this summer and near the beginning of June he pointed out that he'd seen an old man sitting in the same place on his porch three days in a row. For the rest of the summer, we held our breath twice a day as we approached this old man's house, a duplex just past the town's only stoplight, hoping we'd get to see him.

This sounds ridiculous, I know, but it was partially a way to pass the time and partially funny to try to think about what this guy must be like. Sometimes he was reading a book or the newspaper, but often he was just sitting on the porch swing. He was wise, we speculated, the wisest man in the world, and when he was just sitting he was thinking the wisest thoughts any man had ever thought. He had a dog, who was often in the yard with him, and naturally this was his best friend. Once or twice, we even saw an old woman--his wife, naturally--come through the front door to talk to him.

I haven't seen him since October, and I have to admit that it isn't as much fun anyway now that I'm no longer carpooling. But I do have a soft spot in my heart for the house and the porch, because we spent so much time fictionalizing their stories.

And THEN. Yesterday, I was driving home from work when I saw a sign in the front yard. FOR RENT, it said. My heart stopped! Was my old man...gone? Had he and his wife decided to move? What was going on?

But as I got closer to the sign I could read the small print: Upstairs Apartment. I breathed a sigh of relief, because the door we'd seen the man and his wife use clearly belonged to the downstairs apartment. And then I realized: I could totally move out of my parents' house and into the same building as the fabled old man. Doesn't that sound like the best idea you've ever heard?

Even though the chords I look up have been sounding pretty good

I was thinking about a couple of things the other day; specifically, playing the guitar and not having any new year's resolutions.

And then I realized that there are a lot of things I know how to do but there are very few things I know how to do well, like playing the guitar. And knitting. And crocheting. And baking, and writing, and embroidering (did you know I could do that? Embroider?)

So this year, my resolution is two-fold. 1. Do not take up any more new hobbies, and 2. improve upon the things I already have started.

For example, instead of just Googling guitar chords, I think I need to take lessons. And I probably need to make a blanket out of all the granny squares I've made in the last 6 months.

I'm not very good at resolutions, so let's hope this goes well. First things first: finishing that blanket. Only about 60 more squares to go.

A new hobby

I went to visit some friends in Cincinnati this weekend, and on Saturday afternoon I decided I'd like to buy a guitar. I'd been thinking about it since I started playing my sister's bass guitar over the summer, and since my brother has a banjo and my best friend has a ukelele, I thought it was time for me to go ahead and get my own instrument.

I decided to buy a really inexpensive one, since I have no idea how you're supposed to pick out a guitar. And no idea how to play one. And no idea about anything else, really.

But here he is, in all his glory (at least I think it's a he):

He's no Fender, but he's got to aspire to something.

I think it will be fun.

It's over: A year in review.

All in all, 2007 was not a bad year. Most notably, it is the year that I graduated from college and got my first real job. In the context of the everyday, this doesn't seem like such a big deal, but in the Game of Life, these are the things that earn you LIFE bonus tiles. In other words, it's right up there with having a family game night and watching a sunset. I am totally on the right track.

But seriously, I was trying to summarize the year 2007, and it went something like this: Freak out about graduating. Freak out about finding a job. Find a job. Freak out about ability to do this job. Graduate. Move home, be lonesome, get used to people welcoming me to "The Real World." Go to work. Spend a lot of time with my family. Go to work some more.

Of course these are sweeping generalizations but I'd say that's about how it went. Final decision: 3 1/2 out of 5 stars for 2007. No one likes to talk deductions, so we're not going into that. Instead, here are some of my favorite things about this year:

Best book I read: tie between 1984 and On Writing. Both really got into my brain and it's rare that I go more than a few days without thinking about one of them.

Best movie I saw: Another tie. Waitress, a little independent film about a pregnant, pie-making genius working at a small-town diner and Volver, a Spanish film about a woman and some crazy is-that-a-ghost-or-are-you-just-not-dead stuff. I recommend them both.

Best album I listened to: Icky Thump by the White Stripes was my favorite release, but I re-discovered Blonde on Blonde this fall and I haven't taken it out of my car since October.

Best place I visited: Last January I toured the Coors brewing factory, which was pretty amazing, but I think the award goes to San Francisco; specifically this speakeasy-themed bar we visited. I'm still daydreaming about rhubarb-flavored martinis.

Here's to 2008: May this year be a little less full of freaking out and a little more filled with updating this website.