Sled Dog Skippy

My friend TMC over at Return to Rural posted this neato meme the other day. I, being a very lazy blog writer, have decided to utilize this meme. Have fun and copy and paste it to your own blog and let other people know how weird your life is or isn’t.

What wakes you: barking
Your initial look in the mirror reveals: greasy
You usually first put on: Crocs
Your closet: nonexistant
Your mood before 11am: cranky
The first thing you look at online after email: Sinfest
Something you tend to snack on: carrots
What you see out your front door: glaciers
Your takeout menus: town
Number of boxes of tissue out in your home right now: none
The way you sneeze would read: “haaaashugzch…thpppth”
Number of times a day you probably brush your hair: two
The most predominant thing in your pantry: flour
A smell commonly coming from your kitchen: garlic
How you sort your books: color
The way you keep your place in a book: receipt
Something you hide when people come over: junk
Number of people normally at your table during dinner: two
Something you put on your nightstand before bed: phone
How high you pull the covers when you go to sleep: overhead

Hey readers I have a mission for you (I know, I know. I never post anything and now I’m asking you to do stuff for me).

If you can find a picture of the boss lady from VOGUE (yes, THE Vogue!) you will win a spectacular prize. I feel that I have searched the internetz as much as I can without barfing. I also don’t want to ask her for a copy, as that might be, well, weird. Bear the burden of my uncomfortable-ness.

I’m guessing 1985, and you can rule out Jan, Feb, and March as she won the Iditarod in March 1985. You must submit a link of your findings in the comments. If you have YOUR OWN PHYSICAL issue of Vogue in which she appeared, and can give it to me, you can bet your booty you will get a super-duper prize.

So now, go, find her beautiful picture!

“The premise is that if you have a blog and leave a comment on this post, I’ll assign you a letter. You take that letter and make a list of 10 things you love that begin with that letter. Then, you pass on the letter love to the bloggers who make comments on your post. It’s creative and social!” –Ryan at Instantaneous Instances (uh, yeah, I’m married to him)

The Letter S is brought to you by Ryan at ryan.bigwoofs.com and TMC at Return to Rural.

here are 10 things I love that also begin with the letter ‘S’

1. my spouse (even though that word is really weird in general. spouse. Sounds like a kind of mouse)
2. sled dogs (whoa, really???)
3. Sara P.
4. Salmon & sushi
5. Sunrises/sunsets
6. Sriracha
7. Sinfest web comic
8. Scuba diving
9. Shabbat
10. Surfing. I really, really, really want to learn. There is excellent SWELL (another S!) in Homer, actually.

11. Sarah Pali–ha! Just kidding. Didn’t mean to give you a shock! See what I did there? It’s all about the “s”. Hee!

So, I finally listened to Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings. gawd dayum. I am speechless (for once). Okay, maybe not. There is something about a confident woman giving an audience her best with a baritone sax in the background that just makes my hair stand up with electricity. There are few times when I feel this way. The other times I can think of usually involve being at a concert with my friend Sara because she has WAY better taste in music than I do and generally more money for tickets as well.

Here’s some wonderful-ness for you (courtesy of Dutch TV. There are other versions, including the new video, but I like this live version the best):

Listening to Sharon Jones makes me crazy in a good way. I want to cry. I want to scream. I want to dance my silly dance. And upon watching and listening to her tribute/cover to the late GREAT James Brown with her version of “This is a Man’s World”, I of course, had to then listen to the Godfather. Here he is, O’Lympia, Paris, 1971:

Maybe that’s the “I want to live in happy denial for a while as the world goes crazy” part of me–the part that just needs really really good music to survive. That’s part of why good music was invented–it came from a place of pain or love, a way to survive. Ah, soul. I gots it. Do you?

Okay, okay, puppies first, because I know you don’t really care about the other stuff:

4 adorable fuzzies: 2 girls, 2 boys

these cuties still have no names

so handsome

yup, there is a pupil in there

The boss lady brought these back from Sebastian’s kennel, on her way home. She is back for the winter now. It’s nice to have her back after 5 months of constant stress and worry over her animals. Ahh, sweet relief. And maybe a day off soon. That’d be nice.

I did get a second job! Today, in fact, I was offered an administrative assistant (translation=secretarial slave) for an office of the center for behavioral health. The office I will be working with voluntarily assists adults with various developmental disabilities. I am happy to say that the job pays more than the airplane gopher job did! Hooray for gas and grocery money again. However, I do have to work the ol’ 8:30-5:00 4 DAYS A WEEK. Can someone please tell me how that is considered “part-time”? Oh wait, it’s because we live in America where anything less than 60 hours a week is part-time.

I’m sad that I’ll be away from the dogs all day more than 1/2 of the week. That translates in to less time on the sled with the boss, too. Frowny face. But having a job that pays well also means I can stay in Alaska and I don’t have to move to rural Oklahoma because I’m broke. 

And yes, that is snow you see in the background of the puppy photos. The boss also brought home snow with her last week. It was nasty cold for a few days and sleeting & snowing sideways. Yesterday it rained sideways for, oh, 24 hours straight and nearly blew the cabin down. And now it is fall again, all sunny and pleasant. The weather in Homer is much like Indiana: wildly unpredictable.

And yes, the pups’ eyes are totally normal and healthy. Just incredibly beautiful. Okay, I admit. I was a little scared for about 5 seconds because I thought they were alien puppies and were going to shoot laser beams out of their butts or something. Nope. They just poop a lot.

Ryan has wondered out loud if I will posting any of my observations & opinions from yesterday’s vice presidential candidate debate (hosted by the incomparable Gwen Ifill. I love her). I suppose I could spew a bunch of my opinions here. Chances are, if you are reading this, you know me and for whom I am going to vote. So I feel like last night was just a waste of 1.5 hours of my lif–oh god. Ryan is playing the debate again. Without headphones. I just had a minor aneurysm. What was I saying…oh yeah, big waste of my time and life, seeing as how I couldn’t even look at the screen because if I did, I would be accosted by Palin’s winking, smirking face and good god, I just can’t be winked at by anyone.

So here is my opinion, which I think is supported by my spouse, as discussed last night while leaving the theater:

ME: I’m going to maverick all over the ground. Especially if I hear maverick one more time.

RYAN: I just mavericked in my pants!

There you go. Now you know.

P.S. The sled dogs here would like to shout out to all the other sled dogs in Wasilla, Alaska: “What up! You get extra credit for being able to read! Woohoo! Sled dogs for Obama!”

So today I went into town and had another job interview. I have been looking for another part time job again to supplement the dog-handling serfdom wage. This interview was for a secretarial administrative assistant position at a local office of a national financial planning company. I dressed to the nines of course and was prepared for some difficult questions.

The interview lasted all of 12 minutes. I was greeted by my potential supervisor who was wearing jeans and a polo shirt. Glad the office is casual. I was blinded by the unexpected and uncanny sunshine (hiss! Hiss! what is that foul orb in the sky? It’s not raining? I am confused and frightened).  The Polo Man adjusted the blinds and in doing so, I was unfortunately exposed to his ass crack. 

Now, to some of you dear readers this may seem like nothing, if simply unfortunate. To me, this was not only unfortunate and gross, it was shocking. There I was, groomed in every possible way, poised, professional, ready to kick some interview ass and instead I SEE ass.

Do I really want to work for someone when I might be unwillingly exposed to his crack on a regular basis? I had a hard time maintaining my composure. This was in the first 30 seconds. I wanted to walk out. Apparently, I could have rolled out of bed after not having showered for 4 days and gone in there in my dog yard clothes and it would have been normal. Especially since this person explained that the job wasn’t “rocket science” and that I was “too overqualified.” At that point I did what no sane person does in an interview: I became cocky. I looked at him and said “I think that is the case for most jobs in this town.” Who says that? I guess a person who just had to see a hairy, middle-aged ass crack before noon in a JOB INTERVIEW. 

Then I got to come home, have a migraine for several hours, and cook old salmon heads in a big pot for dog food.

Tuesdays are not fun.

He doesn’t think I am a whacko when I ask him to take pictures of fresh juice we’ve made.  Here’s cranberry-apple:Here’s 2pac G Money (2 apples–2 pears–2 carrots–piece of ginger):

My friend TMC at Return to Rural had this meme (may-may!) going on her blog. I must obey.

1.  Homemade tofu hot chicken wings. sweet jeebus. I could eat them every day. Pain in the butt to make, but it’s worth it, especially with the accompanying vegan blue cheese dressing.
2. environmental/sustanability/green living blogs. I can’t stop. I keep following link upon link upon link. And then I realize what a great big jerk I am for using paper towels. 
3. paper towels. I got 4 pets, people. 2 of whom are cats and are addicted to barfing up grass when they run to freedom outside, don’t get caught by an eagle, snarf down grass, get hauled back inside by us, and then later barf said grass. Yay. 
4. apartmenttherapy.com  I’ve tried to quit many times. I can’t! I need an intervention to get me to stop reading about how I need a $800 chair to feel good about my living space. 
5. La Croix plain carbonated water. I call it “La Crack.” I have switched to the schwag of carbonated water, the no-name grocery brand. It does the trick and gives me the fix. I can drink a 12 pack in a day, easily. Do I have a problem? 

It’s true.