Showing posts with label Ranting and Raving Lunatic. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Ranting and Raving Lunatic. Show all posts

Tuesday, April 21, 2009

The pre-panic attack

I have spent the last two hours going over the school catalog so that I will be ready to meet with my advisor tomorrow. I've been working this lovely little puzzle where I have juggled summer classes that last for both sessions with summer classes that are only in session one, and then ones that are only session two. Since all the credit hours are the same, I end up banging out more credit hours than if I took all full-summer courses. Cool, right?
Now, here's the hitch. While my transcript review did end up crediting me all of my classes that I had taken before, it did not reflect the AP exam scores that had gotten me out of Freshman English and Psychology 101. Obviously, Psychology 101 (or whatever equivalent) is a pre-req to EVERY CLASS I NEED TO TAKE. Oh, except for one upper-level literature class, which (you guessed it!) requires English 101. Now... my transcript reflects that I have already taken upper-division level Psychology courses in college. Is there really a chance that I will spend this summer taking Psych 101, a class that I tested out of while still in high school??? That stresses me, that stresses me a lot. But I will find out tomorrow... surely they are going to count my AP scores, or at the very least decide that taking upper level Psychology classes in the past is an acceptable pre-req... right??? RIGHT???
Well, from there it dawned on me that I am jumping from not being in school at all to taking all upper-division classes. Because that is all I have left. Is my head going to spin so fast that my brain flies out of my ears? Will I be over-challenged and fail everything? And who on earth is going to clean this house while I do all this working/studying?????
Sigh... another rambling of the only girl on earth who can work up a good panic attack before having anything to actually panic about...

Tuesday, March 24, 2009

I just stumbled upon the most horrifying piece of crap that I have ever found on the Internet. Considering the source, that is a pretty huge statement! But as I was doing some extra research on Addison's Disease in dogs (I'm doing an ACTCH stim on Luna tomorrow... but that's another story, for another day), I stumbled upon an ad that I had originally planned to link to, but I am not giving this idiot the publicity (but google Addison's Disease in dogs, and it'll come up.) I mean, yeah- I knew something bad was coming, since the page summary was "what your stupid vet isn't telling you," but I usually enjoy the ridiculous crap that random people put up under the guise of having some sort of medical knowledge. But this... I was grinding my teeth so hard by the end that I am surprised I have anything left by nubs.
Yeah, I get that this fool is trying to get people to buy his book, and needs to make outlandish claims to make that happen. But to inform the world that veterinarians and other caregivers don't care about the dog, don't care about the owners, and don't care if the dog "dies in your arms" is just wrong. WRONG. I mean, first, way to put that suggestion into the heads of people who are panicked and worried about their dog! I suppose that, when they mistrust their vets and look elsewhere for help, you will be the one answering those phone calls and offering guidance? And second, how dare you insinuate such a thing to begin with? I can't even begin to describe how much veterinarians and their staff care, and the lengths that any of us would go to to ensure that if your pet does have to die in your arms, it is due to a peaceful euthanasia.
Oh, and there's another point- telling the world that pet foods are made from the corpses of animals still full of euthanasia solution, which is what causes illnesses in pets in the first place. What??? First, I don't know where your pet food is coming from , but if there really were "tons" of euthanized pets made into pet food every month, we probably wouldn't have food back ordered all the time due to a "lack of ingredient sources up to standards." That is, sorry to say it this way, a complete and total load of bullshit. And second, euthanized animals are not dumped into barrels and carted off for food companies; I know this because I have lovingly wrapped tons deceased pets for owners to take home and bury, to be sent of for cremation or to be taken to a pet cemetery. We care about these pets as much after their death as we did in life.
Another point in this guys load of b.s. is the claim that doctors in general prescribe medications that they know are less effective instead of medications proven to be more effective. After spewing a bunch of crap about big bad pharmaceutical companies that made no sense, I can only conclude that is guy thinks that doctors do this just for fun.

Bottom line: don't believe everything you read on the Internet. And if it sounds like a load of shit, it probably is!

Saturday, February 14, 2009

Not a fan of the Valentine's Day

Yesterday, I heard a story about real love. Married for twenty years, a couple was telling me about how they'd gotten together all those years ago. She had just gotten out of an engagement and was boycotting all men; when her husband to be asked her out, she nearly blew him off. When I laughed, she told me that he hadn't even wanted to ask her out, having just gotten out of a tough relationship himself. I turned to him and said, "You didn't want to ask her out??? Well then, why did you?"
His reply?
"I just couldn't not."
Now even a cynical, Valentine's Day-hating person like me had to "awwwwww" at that one. Because seriously, who knew something like that could even exist? No, this is not getting ready to be a man-hating rant from a cynical single girl, but I am going to tell you what is wrong with this ridiculous holiday. It commercializes love, making you feel like you have to spend all kinds of money on your significant other to prove that you do actually love him. All these stupid commercials, "Prove that you love your wife/girlfriend/lover with with $8,000,000 diamond necklace/ring/bracelet." How about proving your love to a significant other every day by doing little things- cooking a favorite meal, starting their car on a cold morning, making chicken soup when they are sick or doing a household chore that the other person hates? Now, that (in the words of Carrie Bradshaw) is real love. Ridiculous, inconvenient, consuming, can't-live-without-each-other love. And shouldn't that be what we are all looking for- not some expensive gifts given out of the obligation to a shallow holiday?

Tuesday, August 19, 2008

Stress is my middle name

What a rough week this is. Please tell me how it is only Tuesday??? And at the same time, how is it already TUESDAY??? I have only a few more days to pack, and my stress level is increasing exponentially. But, it will all get done. Because it has too! Am I the only one that finds that comforting? That no matter how overwhelmed I am, and no matter how hard it seems like things are, I am always able to make stuff happen because I have no other choice.
But still, I am way behind, and that worries me. And between my surgery recovery, work and packing dilemmas, I am not able to see as much of my friends as I would like before my move. And that is pretty depressing, because there are a lot of people that I love here. Hopefully, I'll get a chance to get in a little more bonding time before I go; thankfully two of my dearest friends who are always there in a little support net around me will be roadtrippin with me this week-end to move some of the bigger stuff! And any of my wonderful other friends are welcome to join as well!
Then you have the winding down at work. Now, granted, everyone is stressed over the impending accreditation inspection. And I know that on top of that, everyone is very disappointed that I am leaving, and I am going to miss them like crazy. And I know that while everyone has been very supportive of what I am trying to do, there is some resentment there. After all, it is rough on everyone when an important part of the team leaves. (I am not being conceited, I swear. I just happen to have a lot of responsibility at work, which I have been working on passing on so that no one will be left in the lurch). But it really shocks me, and kind of hurts my feelings that my boss has started to get short with me. I mean, we have gotten pretty close since I have been working there. I've been to her house to help out with some of her animals. We recommend books to each other. We joke, laugh, share advice... basically act like friends. So this kinda cold behavior is really having a negative effect on me. Oh well, what else can you expect when you are leaving a job?
And then there is Miss Luna. Her poor belly problems keep coming back. I feed her enough food for a dog twice her size and she is still too skinny. We've run a lot of tests and given her a lot of medications, and she still is having diarrhea. It looks like she have a problem absorbing nutrients from the food- we are running a Mal digestion Panel on her tomorrow. If she has a pancreatic problem, she could be on supplements forever. Who knows how the problem will effect her lifespan? I mean, she is a BABY! I am not supposed to have to worry about this stuff for another ten years at least! On the flip side, this panel could just indicate that her shitty care early in life has screwed her intestines up royally, and a month or two of medicine could help her. While I am hoping for the curable thing, it is harder to accept that someone could neglect their pet to that point than it would be to accept that her pancreas is not functioning correctly, you know? I mean, if you had control over the situation, wouldn't you choose health for your pet?
And then there is the Major News, which is the toughest of all to deal with at the moment. That one, however, is not something I am ready to talk about just yet. I'm not trying for a teaser, just an explanation for why I might be a little more spaced out and moody for awhile. Don't take it personally, believe me!

Anyway, nuff rambling for now! Hopefully, my head will have cleared tomorrow, because I have been wanting to write a tribute to the beautiful, late, great Genuine Risk!

Saturday, July 12, 2008

The grumbling continues...

Thanks for all the encouraging comments, and sorry for such a downer post yesterday. I'm just frustrated, plain and simple. I hate having things wrong with me, and the family contribution does not help. A couple of family members are not insisting on coming down to "help out" post-op, which will be a mistake for everyone involved. Family visits, particularly from this side of the family are just stress in a can. They march in, point out everything they perceive to be wrong in my life ("This apartment is a mess!" "You have too many books!" "Becoming a psychologist is a waste!"), make me feel invalid and generally invoke a lot of tears. Even my malfunctioning organ is evidence of my faults- apparently, I somehow carelessly ruined my gallbladder. And this "advise" is always given in the name of "helping," and I should appreciated the well-intended nature of it. Well, the road to hell is paved with good intentions- and I don't appreciate it! Rar!

I'm sorry, I digress. I meant this to be a post where I point out that I do have a wonderful support network of friends (and pets), and I was remiss to forget you yesterday!

Anyway, I hope to return tomorrow with something fun to say- like how Curlin was awesome in his second place finish today, and Proud Spell was awesome in her win today! :)

Friday, July 11, 2008

12%

Last night, I came home and pretty much went strait to bed. Remember how my HIDA scan was the most painful thing ever? Intestines being ripped out and set on fire? Well, there was a reason for that- my doctor's office called yesterday (on the doctor's day off!) to inform me that I only had 12% function in my gallbladder. Apparently, that is Very Bad. When I asked what was going to happen next, the nurse told me that I would be sent to a surgeon for consult.... in two and a half weeks. Which makes me wonder how Very Bad this is, if the consult can wait two weeks and the potential surgery can wait however long after that. I wish they'd given me some more answers, like what I should be doing in the meantime. Should I change my diet even more? Is my liver going to suddenly fail when nothing can get through the bile ducts? Will my gallbladder EXPLODE? I know I am being morose and whiny and dramatic, but I'm not a doctor so I don't know what is going to happen. And that is scary for me. And it is kind of sad that when an animal has a medical problem, there is a doctor and a full staff that will explain and give clear instructions and tell people what to expect and watch for in their pets. And with people, I think the instructions are less clear, more "just trust me and let me get on to the next case," and overall just trusting that if people are confused, they can go on the Internet and figure it out themselves. And I will do my own research, but I wish there was more human contact involved.

And again, I know I am being whiny and unreasonable, but that's how I'm feeling at the moment. All of this was exacerbated by the fact that when I called my family, who asked to be updated on what was going on, their reactions varied from insane to.... insane. When I vented my nervousness about recovery time, having to take off work and potentially being faced with a large co-payment and the financial ramifications, I was lectured about how I was stupid for worrying, and overly stubborn because I refuse to NOT worry about it. Literally yelled at for this! I mean, these are things that have to be planned for, right? I mean, when I am sick, life has to carry on- bill must be payed, work hours must be covered, cats must be cared for, fiance has to be cared for; whether certain family members realize it or not, I have a lot of responsibilities, and they have to be covered.

Because apparently, I have no support network. At least not in the shoulder to cry on department.

Monday, July 7, 2008

Never thought I'd see the day....

Gas jumped about thirty cents while I was at work today. Now, how does that happen? What happens in a 10 hour period that requires the gas to go up THAT MUCH????
So, as I was heading home today on my 1/4 tank of gas, lamenting the fact that I had not filled up on the way to work, I saw a sign out of the corner of my eye. In big, beautiful, neon-red letters it said:

$3.93
My elation caused me to briefly lose my mind, scream across three lanes of traffic, and zoom into the already crowded parting lot, where people were fighting over the pumps, and filling their five gallon gas tanks.
I never thought that I would see the day that gasoline at $3.93 per gallon would cause such excitement. How depressing...

Tuesday, May 27, 2008

Why couldn't you have taken the $5 bill?

Shocked, sad, heartbroken. Angry, upset, dismayed, disillusioned. Flabbergasted. Confused, hurt and more than PISSED OFF. Am I overreacting? I don't know! All I know is this:

When I left my car to take the puppy in the apartment before going to the store, my Big Brown button was hanging from my rear view mirror. When I returned to the car less than two minutes later, it was gone. I tore my car apart; the button is not there.

Either my button jumped out of the car and went for a walk, then burrowed deep into the car and cloaked itself in an invisibility cloak, or one of my neighbors stole it from my car. My Big Brown button! The button I wore at Churchill Downs while I watched him win the Derby! My souvenir of what could potentially be the first Triple Crown winner in my lifetime. A one dollar item that I wouldn't have traded for one thousand dollars, that I kept with me because it could put a little smile on my face. Every time I got into my car, I had that little reminder of a happy, exciting day, and my mood would brighten. Sure, that part may be a little crazy, but I really treasured that button. Why would someone take that from me? I guarantee that whatever joker took it to be funny or to sell it on e-bay will not get even one hundredth of joy that I got out of my ONE DOLLAR SOUVENIR.

I should be thankful that my Eight Belles button remained safe. I should be thankful that my car wasn't damaged or stolen. But for now, I am sulking. And depressed.

Stupid neighbors!

Tuesday, May 6, 2008

One final thought

I know that I vehemently got my point across last night, but I read something on the Daily Racing Form last night that I felt was worth sharing. Someone reposted this from a comment made on PETA's website:

"I work in the racehorse industry. I am a groom. My job is to do everything I can to make the horses happy. I feed, water, clean, keep there stalls spotless, brush - and do everything they might need to be as happy as possible. This is a very tough job with long hours, I get up a 4:30 every morning and don't get to bed until 10 that night. 7 days a week. I sleep in a tack room no bigger than 7 by 7 feet.The wages are very low, 400 dollars a week. Many people would never do such a job, but I do it out of my love for animals. I'm not the only one, there are many hard working grooms dedicating there life to horse racing for low wages and hard working conditions. When you call it a dirty business only associated with wealthy owners you are insulting me and basically spitting in my face. The rage I feel toward your organization cannot be put into words. I would invite you do follow me around for one day to see the hard labor I do to make sure these horses are happy before you write such harsh words about the racing industry."
Yes, there are things wrong in the horse racing industry. I will tell anyone that steroid use and breeding for speed, not stamina absolutely need to be corrected; these are things that the industry is starting to address. But there are things right with the industry too- if not, people like the groom above would have found new jobs long ago.
I don't want to devote any more of my attention to PETA, because upsetting people is one of their goals and I refuse to play that game. However, there is a rumor circulating that during the Preakness Stakes, PETA members are considering storming the field as they race over the track. That goes beyond ignorance; it takes real stupidity not to realize that such an attack is a million times more dangerous to the horses and jockeys than to the protesters. Imagine the terror of those horses if they were to see people running at them on the track. They will spook, jump sideways and crash into each other. The chain reaction would likely take multiple horses down, killing or seriously injuring them or their jockeys. And to accomplish what? I guarantee that the jockeys will not bail off their horses to save themselves- they will put their own lives in danger to safely pull up and protect their horse. The only cruelty seen in that moment will be from the protesters who would put the horses and their riders at such a terrible risk. I'll never agree, but go ahead and protest all you want to- this is America, and it is our rite- but keep it peaceful, respectful and above all safe!

Monday, May 5, 2008

Fuming!

As I lay awake last night, I browsed the Internet and found some articles that made me so angry and frustrated that I could scream. Various journalists have written scathing reviews about horse racing, saying that it is an absolutely cruel act. We are informed in this article that Eight Belle's breakdown was mentioned in a one sentence footnote in the horse racing world (after all, racing fans are cold hearted jerks, right?), and was obviously of no importance. Perhaps this reporter should check the Daily Racing Form, The Thoroughbred Times and Bloodhorse Magazine- all of whom devoted more coverage to Eight Belles than they did to Big Brown. The same is true for my local newspaper. PETA, misguided as always, has thrown their two cents in, calling for the suspension of Eight Belle's jockey because he felt her legs break and then 'beat her mercilessly' to ensure a win, all for the greed of the second place prize money. PETA activists responded to this article with tales of horse woe- my personal favorite was the tale of the mare who's hooves FELL OFF, so the mean owner bolted her feet back to her legs and chained her on her side in a stall for months so that they foal she was carrying would survive and they could make lots of money off of it. WHAT??? COME ON!!

I mean, where do I even start here? Do any of these people bother to research their facts? Have they ever seen a horse before? First of all, it is not possible for a horse to survive for months on their side. Pneumonia and colic would set in within a day or two, not to mention the infection that would occur from her severed feet! The foal would be in distress from the amount of medications necessary to combat these things, and the mare would abort. All that nonsense aside, these mares are insured for thousands to millions of dollars, and the foals they are carrying can be insured once a 64 day pregnancy is confirmed. So greed would not fuel such an act. And, oh yeah- it is not possible!!!!

Secondly, I would love to see a member of PETA break two legs and continue to run down the stretch and then slow down for a further quarter mile before an sign of distress was noted. Can't be done right? Well, a horse can't do it either- even if they continued to try to run as their instinct tells them to do, the break would be obvious. Their attack on Gabriel Saez, Larry Jones and the other connections of Eight Belles is rubbing salt into open and painful wounds. Perhaps PETA and the other critics did not see the photos of her farrier weeping out on the Derby track, or got to hear her owner and jockey decline interviews because it was just too painful. The negative attention they are drawing to an already painful time for every horse racing fan does nothing but taint the memory of this beautiful athlete, Eight Belles.

I also need to point out that the $400, 000 dollar prize money would not have been worth pushing a filly of Eight Belles caliber to a break down. If she had raced through the end of the year, I am sure her earnings would have exceeded one million dollars. By Unbridled's Song, out of Away, a mare who's female family traces back to La Troienne, it is likely that Eight Belle's first foal would have brought much more than $400,000. Considering how many foals she could have produced, I somehow can not image someone giving up such a prospect for one measly second place prize money.

I encourage everyone to read this article in today's Herald-Leader, where Dr. Larry Bramlage (a very highly-respected veterinarian in his field) addresses the concerns of PETA, namely on the issue of whipping, and how it is used as a guiding tool. He states that if the horses were being "viciously" whipped as has been suggested, they would be bleeding and be covered in welts. Even an eight year old learning to ride a pony carries a riding crop- a tap on the side is a signal to the horse. I would like to add that anyone paying attention would note that the whip is used as a signaling device- often, the whip does not even touch the horse, the jockey is waving it in front of their eyes, a "let's go!" signal, if you will. When a horse is running toward the rail, one tap of the whip is enough to catch their attention, to remind him that they are headed in the wrong direction. I have seen many horses saved from injury because they were signaled to correct their course.

And to everyone who claims horses will not die if they are never pushed... well, firstly, she was not being 'pushed' at the time of her injury. Secondly, anyone who has ever worked with a horse will tell you that they will run full throttle through a fence, find every hole they can step in and kick any stall door hard enough to cause serious injury. They will colic during a thunderstorm, cut their side on the one loose fence board in a 20 acre pasture and kick each other right in the head. They are accident prone animals- anyone who loves them knows that freak accidents happen. And like a mother with her child, you protect your horse, you take every precaution but in the end you have to let them do what they love. And thoroughbreds love to compete-it is in their nature. As one intelligent person responded to PETA, after a racing career many of these horses go on to be well-loved pets, three day eventers and other types of competitors.

On a personal note, I have spent a lot of quality time with horses, and a lot of time who's people's lives depend on them. The veterinarian who works 16 hours days, only to be called out of bed two hours later to help a mare who has breached her foal. The trainers at the barn at 3:30am, never getting home before six or seven at night. The farm managers, who know ever horse on their farm and the generations that proceeded them. How dare you call these people cruel? These people who have a symbiotic relationship with the horse, at work hours before most people hit the snooze button for the first time, and still at work when most people are relaxing after dinner. They care for the horses, and the horses give them all they have in return. I challenge these PETA members, these "animal lovers" to talk to me about one time they have sat with a dying horse (or any animal), talking gently to her as she draws shuttering breaths, praying to God that the vet will arrive to end her pain. Wishing that you could turn away from such a site, but knowing that you can't because the love you feel for this animal tells you that you can't let her die alone, with no kind words, no soothing touch to calm her. Each of those experiences takes a piece of you, and you will never be the same, you will never forget that horse, you will smell her in the air and see her in the shadows, and in the end you are a better person for it. I have been in that very position, and I know most people who have worked on racetracks, farms and vet clinics have had the same experience. How dare you, how dare anyone call that cruel? On the flip side, when a horse accomplishes something so beautiful and amazing that you feel like you have glimpsed heaven and beyond, the joy and awe is unfathomable. And when the reporters compliment the training, the ride, the response is nearly always, "He is an amazing horse- he showed us the way, we're just along for the ride."

I am not telling everyone to be a racing fan- everyone is entitled to their own opinion of a sport. But to make a full scale attack on an entire industry based on zero knowledge or understanding, accusing them of being cold-hearted and evil, then going after heartbroken individuals...

Seems cruel, doesn't it?

Wednesday, April 16, 2008

Quarter life crisis

***Warning... highly self-indulgent pity rant coming your way!***

Five years ago, I had what I deemed to be my "quarter life crisis." (I reasoned that it was OK to have this at twenty, because I was far more likely to live to be 80 than live to be 100.) I was dissatisfied with my life and confused about the direction to take; overall, I felt stagnate and depressed. So, I dropped out of college to look for what I wanted- primarily to work with horses, although I also worked as a supervisor in a sandwich shop, a leasing consultant and a veterinary assistant. Most of the time I worked more than one job, 60 or more hours a week. Overall, I was happy trying to discover what I wanted to do with my life. I proudly supported myself, and finally felt in control over my destiny.
Well, apparently I am going to live to be 100 because I am right in the midst of another quarter life crises! Even though I know that I have learned a lot over the last five years, I am still feeling like they were wasted years, and that I am now half way through my twenties and still messing around. Yes, I am still able to support myself, but I am supporting myself in a crappy apartment. I work extra hours and take on extra jobs in the clinic, adding a lot of hours to my week- which would be worth it if I was able to take nice vacations and buy fun toys instead of still barely making all of my bills. In school, I was always in accelerated courses, and scored high on standardized tests, yet my job is one that anyone can be trained to do. I love my job, and I am very good at it (she said so humbly) but I want more! I always thought that I would do something special with my life, not just be some nameless person who ends up working at Wal-Mart at the age of 85 because I was never able to save enough money to retire with, much less ever start the family that would support me in my old age. The past few weeks I have been heavily brooding over this, and little idea seeds have been growing. Still, I hesitate to take action because, who knows? I kill myself in night school, only to discover at that I am actually going to live to be 120, and at age 30 I will have another quarter life crises, change my mind and have to go through this process all over again. Grumble, grumble, brood, brood, gripe, gripe......

Sunday, February 10, 2008

Playing catch up

Yes, three posts have popped up at virtually the same time, all with very different dates. Well, this is because I've been suffering from a lack of focus, and kept starting, saving and moving onto another post with the intention of coming back. When I finally finished everything today, they all posted with the original posting dates! Which is fine.

So, what changed today? Today, I spent the afternoon with my multi-talented, saintly natured and overall wonderful friend Martha working with some writing exercises that she learned during a workshop the other day. While she spun beautiful stories full of alliteration and vivid imagery without taking so much as a deep breath, I flew along writing the first things that came to my mind. What came out was hilarious, including a children's story about a banana who liked to bathe his pet orange in chicken soup so that he wouldn't stink. Hey, don't ask me to explain how my mind works! :) Still, I had a lot of fun, and when I got home tonight, I was suddenly motivated to finish what I had started. Focus returns! Rejoice!

It was so nice to have such a relaxing day, doing something that I enjoy so much with friends that I love. In between writing exercises, we caught up on each other's life and just laughed and laughed. Jokes and stories flowed like water. And of course, when talking to my brilliant friend Martha, the topic of another brilliant friend came up. This someone is unbelievably sweet, uncommonly lovely, unnecessarily modest and unparalleled in her intelligence. Yes, Katie!, I am referring to you! The next time you start stressing over exams, redirect your thoughts to that sentence! :)

The more I reflect on it, I realize how lucky I am to be loved by such amazing people. My Jon, who brave and good. Kitty O'Doom, the rockingest of all the rollergirls! Ben, who saves lives every day as a nurse in a far off land. Jenny, the most kindhearted future PA we could ever hope to see! Maya, who is a real live writer- not that there was ever a doubt! Hmmm, ok, this is starting to sound like those awful Oscar acceptance speeches, "I'd like to thank my third grade best friend who I haven't seen in 26 years...." Suffice it to say that with all of the teachers, medical professionals, writers, musicians, artists, social workers, mothers, etc. that surround me, I am pretty much in awe of your amazingness. Way to be awesome! :)

I really don't know where all of the sentiment suddenly came from, but there you have it. *Sniff* I love you guys! And now, as it is very late, I am going to bed! Many smiles! :) :) :) :)

Saturday, January 26, 2008

...Let's give those girls a hand!

Eclipse Awards, continued:

Having thoroughly exhausted my personal reviews of the boys, it is time to move onto the girls.

Rags to Riches. Need I say more? Like Curlin, she started the year having never won a race. And once she got a taste of the winner's circle, she rattled off four grade one stakes wins in a row, including the Kentucky Oaks (the ultimate classic for three year old fillies!) and the Belmont Stakes (a classic race for three year olds, female or male!). While fillies like Octave and Panty Raid had great years, Rags to Riches deserved the title based on her stakes wins. Honestly, I would have expected her to win off of her Oaks and Belmont performances alone. As I watched her slip and slide over the muddy Churchill Downs track, my heart sank. She obviously did not care for the track, and I had so wanted her to win! But then, with a gutsy move reminiscent of the great Personal Ensign in the 1988 Distaff, she dug in and skipped home the clear winner. This performance made her a strong contender for the Belmont Stakes just five weeks later, a race that no filly had won in over 100 years. Many doubted her; I was not one of them. My loyalty was rewarded when I bore witness to one of the greatest races I have ever seen. After stumbling at the start and being carried wide the whole way, Rags to Riches had every right to back off the bit and give up. Instead, just as Curlin made his move, Rags to Riches gunned forward with sweeping strides. Those two swept into the stretch together, ears back, nostrils flared. Eyeball to eyeball, matching stride for determined stride. Everyone else was far back; they had already conceded victory to these brave warriors. It was impossible to know who would cross the line first, until in a last, desperate push, Rags to Riches stuck her head in front of Curlin, eventual Horse of the Year. Now that is a three year old filly champion. I wholeheartedly believe that had she not been injured and had completed her year with a victory in the Breeder's Cup Distaff, the Horse of the Year Voting would have been much closer.

Moving onto the other divisions- I feel that Nashoba’s Key was ROBBED in the female turf division, but I have already ranted about that. GRR, I MEAN SHE ONLY LOST ONE FRIGGIN RACE ALL YEAR, FOR THE LOVE OF... no, never mind. Not going to go there. Not going to talk about foreign horses who come to America for Breeder's Cup and maybe one other race TAKING THE CHAMPIONSHIP FROM AMERICAN HORSES. I'm above that. Ahem.


Ginger Punch was also a deserving older female champion, mostly based on her strong second half of the year. I can not wait for her and Rags to Riches to face each other this year!


And finally, Indian Blessing. I really think that she is going to blossom into something special. She runs with such reckless abandon, always playing the 'I dare you to catch me' game. Future Oaks champion? Maybe. And if it turns out that distance is not her thing... I do love the sprinters! Test Stakes, anyone?

Monday, January 21, 2008

Quicky

  • Buddy Luck is here! As in, the next room. I've got him set up in a huge kennel, complete with a bed, litter box, hiding box, food and water. I'm trying to make this transition as easy on him as possible, so I have not exposed him to the other cats, or loud noises of any kind. He seems to feel very secure in his small territory, so I'm letting him hang out there until he lets me know that he's ready for a little more room to roam!
  • I will write more about the Eclipse Awards tomorrow, as they will not be over until 1am. But, I was thrilled when the Moment of the Year was named as Rag's to Riches winning the Belmont Stakes. Heck yeah! Dead on! That was one of the most beautiful, thrilling thing that I have seen in a very long time. I screamed and jumped up and down for that filly like my life depended on it. The best three year old filly in the world running down the best three year old colt in the world???? GIRL POWER!!! (Because seriously, if she is not named champion three year old filly, with Curlin as champion three year old colt, I will drop dead of shock!) Best race EVER.
  • WINNING ONE F-ING BREEDERS CUP RACE DOES NOT MEAN THAT YOU SHOULD BE NAMED A FREAKING CHAMPION OVER A FILLY WHO WAS AWESOME AND BRAVE AND ONLY LOST ONE RACE ALL YEAR. Damned turf writers, what do you know??? The only races you people acknowledge are Breeder's Cup and the spring classics. Don't worry Nashoba’s Key, you and I know you are the real champion. You'll get 'em next year!

And now I am going to snuggle down into my covers and finish watching the Eclipse awards. Which I am, um, a little obsessive over. In case you missed that! :)

Wednesday, January 9, 2008

You mean we say that for a REASON???

In the past week, we have had two dogs start to vomit while under anesthesia. One, very spectacularly vomited large volumes of food that was completely undigested- probably not in his stomach for more than an hour. Luckily, thanks to properly inflated endotracheal tubes and quick reflexes on everyone's part, both dogs were OK. Still, this scary situation could have been avoided if we had been told they had eaten.

Vomiting during surgery is BAD. Bad as in possibly resulting choking, aspiration pneumonia or death. This is true for both humans and animals, which is why MD's and DVM's council their patients to fast for 12, 18, 24, etc. hours before surgery. And why a nurse confirms with the patient/owner the morning of the surgery that no food has been ingested for said amount of time. Because no one wants the patient to DIE.

I think people don't understand why we say, "Please pick up Fluffy's food the night before, and do not feed her breakfast the morning of the procedure." Maybe they think we are overly cautious. Maybe they just forget, and don't want us to be mad, cancel the surgery or suffer the embarrassment of saying, "Yeah, my dog ripped open his bag of food and finished it this morning before I could stop him." So, let me answer these possible causes:



  • Vomiting during surgery can result in death. Which, if it were my animal, preventing death is worth any precaution.


  • I forget things a lot. And I lose things. So does everyone. So, if you tell me that your dog was begging and going crazy for food and you fed him because he was driving you nuts and it is part of your morning routine, I will not be mad. Neither will anyone else. We are all human.


  • More than likely, we would not cancel the surgery for the day. We would just ask what time the food was ingested, and adjust our surgery time. It may mean we are doing surgery later in the day than planned, but that's OK! We love your dog, and want him to be safe.


  • We all have pets. They all do bad things. If you tell me your dog got into his bag of food, I will laugh, and probably recount something WORSE that one of my animals has done. Like the time my cat stole food right out of a dinner guests HAND when she was not looking! So, rather than embarrassment, you would get commiseration. (Though, if you dog ate an ENTIRE bag of food, the surgery might have to be postponed, as he would probably be vomiting anyway. Silly dog!)

Please, please, please always fast your pet for the designated amount of time before surgery! Because we would all be really sad if something completely preventable happened to your beloved pet.

Ok, enough sad talk! Look, puppies! Puppies are cute!

Wednesday, December 19, 2007

STILL!

***COUGH***
I am still sick!!! It has been exactly one week since I started to feel terrible, and I just feel even worse now. No voice, constant coughing, fever, constant aching, various colors of mucous spewing from various places- not cool.

I just can't help complaining on this one. I am utterly miserable.

On a related note, a man in China just died from bird flu, and his father is also infected, indicating the possibility of human to human transmission. America's first case might be THIS GIRL right here! By refusing to stay home from work, I have probably transmitted to all my co-workers and our clients! And with Christmas week-end kicking off in TWO days, people are going to start traveling all over the country! Carrying my bird flu with them! I could single-handedly wipe out the entire population of America with my hacking cough!

I don't even want to think of what this means for the fate of the world if anyone travels internationally!

OK, maybe a tad dramatic there. But this is a serious ickyness that I have been infected with.

***WHEEZE***

Sunday, December 16, 2007

Entitlement?

I wonder where the sense of entitlement comes from. From rich people, I get it. Not because I feel that they are any better than anyone else, but because they have been catered to their entire life. When a person never hears no and never has to compromise, it makes sense that they would feel that the world works this way. But it doesn't. Or, at least it shouldn't.

The past few days have been so icky here weather-wise, so I was pretty understanding when someone called our clinic yesterday at 8:50am saying that they would have trouble getting to their 9:15 appointment. (Although, the weather has been the same for days, and everyone else seemed to have accounted for that, but whatever. It happens). I politely told them that, due to our full appointment schedule, the latest appointment I could give them was 9:45am. If that wouldn't work, I could easily reschedule them to Monday morning. The guy was grumpy, but agreed to be there for the 9:45 appointment. At 9:50am, he calls back, and talks to another person. He proclaims that he has not left the house yet, and would not be there at 9:45am because of the weather. (Apparently he has not gotten the memo that, even in sunny 80 degree weather, it is not possible to be somewhere on time when you leave the house five minutes AFTER you were supposed to have shown up!). So we said that he could still come, but he would be worked in between the previously scheduled appointments (you know, the people who bothered to show up on time!), and he should be prepared for a lengthy wait. He said that he would NOT wait, and that now he was just NOT COMING, because it was completely WRONG that he should have to wait. And then, after canceling the appointment completely, he showed up 10 minutes later. All this for a dog who had bump that had been there a week or more.

A recap- This man lived less than 10 minutes away, as he left home after 9:50am and showed up at 10am. YET, at 8:50am, he was apparently unable to make a 9:15am appointment, and subsequently unable to make a 9:45am appointment. This leads me to believe that he did not want to take off his jammies and miss the Saturday morning cartoons, and thus stayed in bed until his favorite was over. And because of this, all the people who got up early, scraped ice off their cars, carefully negotiated Christmas shopper traffic in order to be on time for their respective appointments, were supposed to step back and allow lazy bones to go first.

Why did this man feel this was OK? I would NEVER feel that this was OK. Why was he entitled to be seen right away, in front of everyone else??? You make an appointment, you keep your appointment. And if you can't make it, you apologise profusely and either reschedule or you wait. Politely, because YOU are the one that screwed up. Not the clinic. Not the people who were on time. YOU, Mr. Tardy!

Accountability. A tough concept that no one seems to get anymore.

(And yes, Mr. Tardy waited behind Mr. and Mrs. Ontime. Because it is how things should be.)

Ha!

Thursday, December 13, 2007

Health Insurance

My tonsils are painfully swollen today. I am full of aches and pains and feverish and terribly crabby. Most of my crabbiness stems from that fact that I have no real options for taking care of this. My previous employer did not offer health insurance, so I have been on my own since February. The bright side is that my current employer does offer health insurance... in two more months. Which really doesn't help my current situation. But, it is something to look forward to all the same.

However, the plight of those without health insurance is really of no concern to our current government. More specifically, to our president, who gave a mighty slap in the face to children with no health care options this week when he vetoed a bill (for the SECOND time) that would expand government health care for children. The funding would have come from a huge increase in cigarette taxes- $0.61 on the dollar. To me, this is a win/win situation. Fund children's health care with taxes from a disgusting, life-endangering habit? Cool- not only are you taking care of kids with no other options, you are also making cigarettes more unaffordable for the masses of smokers in this country. Most will still be too stubborn to quit, but you never know- these taxes might deter a few, and still leave enough to fund the bill.

So what is it, Mr. Bush? Do you hate kids? Love smokers? Or are you a dirty pawn for the tobacco industry? Whichever it is, I doubt it will help your rapidly declining popularity!

Sigh.

Is it January 2009 yet?

Thursday, December 6, 2007

It's the most shittiest time of the year!

Admitting you have a problem is the first step. So, here it is. *Deep, cleansing breath*



I hate Christmas


So, there it is. I'm not proud of it. In fact, I hate this little fact about me. And it wasn't always this way. I used to look forward to Christmas more than any time of year. I was the QUEEN of the "Christmas Spirit." There was something about December that gave me a warm fuzzy feeling that, no matter what happened in my life, lasted until the new year. I couldn't help but smile when I saw Christmas lights. My heart skipped a beat with every Christmas song I heard. I actually (wait for it...) ENJOYED the mall! Wrapped in my warm winter coat, I'd stroll through Old Orchard with a friend two, sipping Starbucks as the snow fell and enjoying the decorations. Every store I ducked into would smell of cinnamon and cookies, and the crowds were so happy and friendly that I didn't even mind being in a public place, searching for the perfect gift. I gave change to Santa's ringing bells. I wore red and green. I ate Christmas cookies. I loved Christmas.


And now? I won't even go into a Wal-Mart pass November first, much less the mall. I roll my eyes at Christmas lights. Christmas music irritates me so much that my eye actually starts to twitch. I hate the freezing cold. And most of all, I hate the expectations of the people around me. So what if I haven't had a Christmas tree since 2003? So what if this is the first Christmas in at least four years that I am going to see my family? So what if I feel like pissing thousands of dollars on gifts that will probably lost or broken before New Years Eve is a waste, especially when you consider the amount of debt that American families are already in? Because that is what Christmas is about now! People fighting in malls over the latest toy. Competing with each other over who can give the best, most expensive gift. Complaining that they didn't get enough this year!
I think I have become so jaded over Christmas because this holiday of joy and love and generosity to those less fortunate is now just a front for SPEND, SPEND, SPEND!!!!! Maybe I am too literal, but I observe no joy in the two psycho mothers ripping into each other over the last PlayStation 3. I see no generous spirit when one kid has 100 toys under the Christmas tree, and a poor child has NOTHING. The firefighters toy program was almost shut down this year for lack of support. Granted, members of the community rallied around the firefighters to keep the program going, but they are still below their goal with less than 10 days to go. Because heaven forbid that little Joey Richboy not have a big screen TV, a PlayStation, a Wii, an Ipod and 100 other things under the tree so that mom can afford to buy a doll or two for underprivileged kids.
The ideas behind Christmas is gone, so why bother anymore??? Push Christmas aside, and let the religious, generous people celebrate it for what it is supposed to be. The rest of you? Merry Spend it All Day!!!! And have a Happy Debt Year!!!

Monday, November 12, 2007

I think you missed my meaning...

The other day, a new co-worker was rambling on and on and on about her husband and all of his "hot friends" and how much she enjoyed hanging out with his hot friends, especially when they bought her drinks. I tried to ignore this for the most part, just nodded my head and put more interest than usual into my cage cleaning. Until she informed me that she had made her husband really jealous by telling him about the sex dreams she was having about his hot friends. I pulled my head out of the cage and said, "You know, there are some things that you probably shouldn't share."

Her reply?

"Oh, no, it's fine! He tells me about the fantasies that he has about my hot best friend all the time!"


I really think she missed my meaning...

 

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