I miss you already, Bax.

Baxter Bertrand Steve McQueen Stangl passed away peacefully at home on August 24, 2010. While his cause of death is unknown, there was speculation a year or so ago that he had a slow-growing stomach cancer. I chose not to get the tests done, as it would not have changed my decision to enjoy every moment I had with him.

Baxter came into my life just over 4 weeks ago. I have long maintained that I was not a cat person, but upon experiencing the joy of the Maine Coon Cat, I was willing to consider the option. A friend's uncle breeds Maine Coons, and knew that upon moving to Michigan to start graduate school, I was looking to bring one into my life. I remember the phone call well. She said he was perfect for me-- sassy, but affectionate, with lots of personality. A couple days after I moved to Michigan, I drove to Ohio to meet my friend and her mom to pick up the cat. I think the first thing I noticed was his little fangs. He had a bit of an overbite, and slightly longer than normal canines. He was thin and needed to be brushed badly. He had been in a house with 26 other cats and hadn't gotten enough attention. They warned me to be careful, as he'd pull the meat out of the other side of your sandwich while you were eating it. A purebred with a champion daddy, he was returned when he was a kitten because he wouldn't come out from under the bed. They found another family to place him with, but he started throwing up. No amount of tests were able to reveal any cause of the excessive vomiting, so he returned to the home of the breeder.

Bax got a vet appointment a couple days later, at which point we discovered that he wasn't an asshole that stole food out of your sandwich, but that his teeth and gums were horridly infected and that eating regular cat food would have been impossible. After an expensive surgery that included cleaning and removal, Bax was ready to start settling in. We had a bond instantly. When I had cramps, he knew to lay across my stomach. When I was sad and lonely, he knew to talk to me in his little Maine Coon voice and assure me that all was going to be okay. I hadn't met anyone in Michigan yet, so for a good 3 weeks, it was just Baxter and I. I contemplated changing his name to Bertrand, but he was so ornery that a name closer to "Bastard" seemed a better choice.

For four years he slept next to me either on the pillow by my head or stretched out, spooning along my body. He greeted me when I came home. He chewed me out when I'd been gone too much. He expressed his displeasure with my schedule by pooping in the bathtub. After he'd had some time to be an only child and recover from being around so many other cats, he seemed lonely, so I sought out a kitten. While Simone was amusing, her ninja-like ways resulted in Baxter getting very stressed and peeing blood. Because Baxter is and always has been #1, Simone went and Baxter stayed. Even though a dog (Hank) was added in the meantime, Bax was immediately happier and healthier. He put on weight. His coat improved. He chirped and cooed more often.

When we moved to the new house, I discovered he had been angrily peeing on a few things here and there. He knew he was pushing his luck, and after a long discussion, the peeing seemed to stop. The new house gave him his own bedroom and window to watch out of that he frequently utilized to call out to passers-by like Rapunzel, begging for rescue. He loved exploring the basement and frequently crawled into bed leaving little dirty foot prints behind. He seemed to enjoy the new place greatly.

About a month ago he started to throw up more. I'd long suspected he binged and purged, and resorted periodically to sitting in his room while he ate, giving him a few pieces of food at a time until he'd consumed a little, and then waiting and doing it again an hour or so later. The only difference it made was smaller piles of puke. I came home from walking the dogs last night and he was laying in the kitchen. He didn't get up when the dogs ran to him, and hissed weakly. I knew what was happening. I'd been expecting it for years. I was always certain he wouldn't live long. He gave me a gift of laying on my lap for a couple of hours, purring and snuggling. He even let the dogs give him kisses. When he was ready, he got up and went to the basement, where he continued to deteriorate. He fought it as long as he could, but went quietly and peacefully.

He was such a good kitty, and got me through some difficult moments in the last 4 years. Quite honestly, I'm not sure how I would have done it without him.

Thank you, Baxter, for coming in to my life exactly when I needed you, and for being exactly what I needed more times than I can count. I am so thankful that we were able to spend the last 4 years together, and I wouldn't have wanted it any other way. You were the best cat a girl could ask for. You were there when nobody else was, or even when others were and all I really needed was your little furry fanged face. You reminded me to take it easy when life got too busy, plopping yourself on my lap and insisting I sit for awhile. You greeted me with your chirps and coos in the morning and when I came home from class or work. You made sure I knew how much you loved me every night when you made biscuits on my chest and purred so loud my own thoughts faded in to the back ground. I cannot thank you enough. You will forever be in my heart. I love you dearly.

Good bye, sweet Baxter...

Love, Mommy

Did you really think I'd stop with one?

Part of me moving into a bigger place was planning ahead for getting another dog. I wanted a full Dane, and since the Marmaduke movie came out recently, I assumed that shelters would be full of 6 month old Dane puppies in about 4 months (which they may very well still be). I'd talked to Hank's foster mom, Katie, about that possibility as well as my desire to potentially foster, and she suggested I consider fostering big dogs until I found one that worked well with Hank. However, before that happened, I needed to invest in a bigger car. Hank does fine in the Rabbit, although it isn't ideal, but adding another dog to my tiny car isn't really an option-- especially when one considers that my mom lives 12 hours away, and I routinely take my dog with me, and would take any new dog as well. So-- the original plan was to spend a few months getting my shit together, and then paring down as much as possible to obtain a bigger car by winter. Besides, Bunny can't do one more winter, nor can my nerves handle driving her on shitty roads for one more winter. Anyway... I digress...

Last Tuesday I was digging around on the internet, trying to find different contact info for the woman I needed to contact to volunteer with an organization that helps with animals at the county shelter, doing temperament testing and taking good pictures, to help get the doggies adopted faster. I ended up on Petfinder and accidentally (I swear it wasn't intentional) ended up on the list of dogs at the shelter. That's when I saw "Sebastion." Full Dane. Fawn with merle spots. I opened it. I sighed. I closed it. Not time yet... Tuesday night into Wednesday, 7 friends send me links to this dog. Everyone knows my love of Danes, and knows that at some point, I intended on adding one to my home. And I responded to every one of those "It's not time yet..." Financially things haven't been exactly awesome and I've still been catching up after moving and paying rent in two places in June. This organization that helps with shelter animals goes out on Wednesday nights. Katie, Hank's foster mom, sends me a picture message on my phone of "Sebastion." I asked what he was like... she said wonderful and a lot like Hank. I texted back "Shit..." I asked that she call me when she got out of there. We talked for awhile and she wasn't sure what his story was, but she knew the shelter was nearing capacity and that most animals weren't being kept around long. She suggested I call in the morning to see what was up. We both sort of assumed that one of the rescues had already tagged him. However, I had recently gotten several emails from several rescue orgs asking for donations because they were all pretty full and pretty poor.

I called the shelter the next morning, hoping they'd tell me which rescue organization was picking him up that day-- instead, they told me that he's in line to be put down and that it could be any day. I know they tell people that to scare them... but I also knew the shelter was full and that any dogs that were on their website weren't on there for long-- and, adoptions are down substantially. So... I called my friend Alison and asked her to go out there with me. Katie said she'd meet us out there. I'm not one of those people that bonds with every dog. I can say they are beautiful, sweet, and wonderful, but it's pretty rare I want to take them home. I knew there was a really good chance this dog would be that way. And I had hoped, quite honestly, that that would be the deal.

First I waited and talked to the woman at the desk about what his story was. Someone had dropped him off, claiming he was a stray, but she didn't believe him. When the guy walked out, he ran into a volunteer in the parking lot. He told them he'd saved "Sebastion" from a shitty situation, but to be careful because if you move your hands quick by his face, he would bite. Because of this, they had to list him as aggressive. She added that during his time in the shelter, shelter staff had no problems, even giving him food, taking bowls, etc. She also told me that he wouldn't be there much longer...

Alison and I went back to see him. Laying on the floor was this big hulking beast, terribly terribly thin...and terribly sad. We got him to come to the gate while we waited for a staff member to leash him (their policy). We could already tell he was sweet. We decided to walk him around and spend a little time with him. He was so thin... But so very sweet. That giant head nuzzled into our bellies and his too thin body leaned against us. "Shit..." I said. Alison, knowing that I had wanted to name my second dog "Cash" said "Sarah...that's a Cash." When he looked up at me with those big eyes, I was ruined. Katie showed up and helped us evaluate him a little more strategically. I told her about the "bite" report. While we chatted, both of us periodically swung our hands near his face, from the front and the back. Nothing. We walked him past kitty cages. Other than perking up and cocking his head when a kitten mewed, he could have cared less. We walked him by other dogs, he ignored them. Katie said "He's so much like Hank." Yes, yes he is... Katie also suggested that it was possible that I could adopt him, get him back to health, and if he wasn't the right one, we could adopt him out through some rescue organization contacts we both had. I had an out if it didn't go well...and I'd been considering fostering anyway, right?

We talked for quite awhile and I kept saying "It's not the best time..." Both Alison and Katie kept saying "It never is when you find the right one." I was reminded of Hank's timing and how I just made myself ready... I was so conflicted. Financially July was bad. I had a vacation planned in August. My car was entirely too small for both of them to ride in for any major length of time. Standing there, looking at him, I looked at Alison and said "Okay... so I just go to Iowa for my friend's wedding, and I just wait and go to Minnesota later." I turned to Katie and asked if she'd be willing to dog sit for a 4 day weekend. I checked on the cost of adopting him-- since he wasn't fixed, it was going to be quite the pay out because I'd have to pay out extra on his neuter deposit due to his size. So the question now was one of whether or not I could afford it-- and not just could I afford it, but could I find a way to make it work. I don't know how many times I teared up there, or on the way home-- but I know I cried when I got home. 3 year old Danes with a similar temperament to Hank don't come around every day...

I didn't sleep at all that night. I went over my budget, my bills, my bank statements-- trying to figure out where I could cut and what I could do. I knew he'd be more expensive for the first few months with extra food and vet bills. A good friend offered to pay for a vet visit or two as I got him back to health and got him neutered. Another friend offered to send some help in the mail. A few others donated via paypal. It looked like I could do it... it wasn't going to be easy... but I could make it work. I'd already been "practicing" cutting my food budget down-- and from looking at my bank statements, I'd already established I spent quite a bit of money stopping for coffee in the morning, grabbing a sandwich at lunch, or grabbing dinner at the bar. I could stop doing those things. No problem.

So... Friday, I went out and filled out my application and paid the $217 to bring him home. They don't do much of a vet exam or any vaccinations until they are adopted, so I had to wait until after 2 p.m. He was also going to get a heartworm test. The heartworm rate is *so* high this year, that we were honestly just hoping it was low grade so that it could be taken care of more inexpensively. Somehow... his test came back negative! A possibility I hadn't even considered! I was ready to bring him home. I was ready to feed him. He jumped right up in the convertible and propped himself up in the back seat. On our way from the shelter, an animal control officer was behind us, taking picture after picture of this big huge dog in this little bitty car. HA! He was definitely bigger than Hank...

So yes... I got a new dog. His name is Cash. He's a full Dane. He currently weighs about 110-115 lbs. He should be more like 150 or so. He was clearly raised in a house, as he knows his own size and isn't house stupid. He's very laid back, although part of it is potentially him not feeling well. A visit to the vet confirmed that he picked up bordatella, and potentially a secondary infection thanks to the virus. However-- everything else is good. No heart murmurs (common with Danes) and his hips look good. I do need to keep him on low activity for a bit, as the malnutrition doesn't exactly make for strong ligaments and tendons. He walks great with Hank, and they are adjusting to each other. They pretty much have the same gait and pace, so it's an easy walk for me! Hank is trying... we've had *so* many dogs around for the last 6 weeks (anywhere from 1 or 2 extras at a time) because I've been dog-sitting a lot, and he hasn't necessarily minded the other dogs, but has been less than impressed at times. He's really trying with Cash, though. It is getting better. Cash is being really good about giving him space, but will occasionally give him a kiss, or even lay down on Hank's bed when Hank is already passed out. Sadly, Hank got up pretty soon after that photo was taken. HA! I'm sure more aspects of Cash's personality will come out in the next few months, much like it was with Hank. Hank came in to my home at the tail end of recovering from heartworm treatment. As he felt better and adjusted to life as a Stangl, he had a new personality trait every week. As soon as Cash feels better after this nasty virus, he'll be getting those big gross Dane nuts removed-- so I'm just going to guess anything that might show up will be preemptively eliminated with that.

I do have more respect for folks that routinely do rescue work. I'm not sure that I've ever pulled a dog this sick out of a shelter before... Monday night I learned that roundworms can be yarfed up on my kitchen floor and that after a dog is wormed, I should wear shoes in the house (ugh...). His nose drips a lot, so my drool rag laundry load has gone up pretty substantially. His poo has been less than awesome, but is getting much better. He's just a sick dog. And it's just not easy. I just keep walking around with a spray bottle of bleach water and paper towels... HA! I can't even imagine having a whole litter of puppies with some of the same symptoms. He's eating puppy food to get fattened up. I'm sure Hank will get a little fatter as well, as eating Cash's food is part of his slightly passive aggressive "dominant" behavior. Hank already does seem a bit less lonely, and I think he's warming up to it. I think he's ready for Cash to not be sick. I'm sure that as soon as Cash feels playful again, Hank will be all about a little wrestling!

So yes... it happened... sooner than planned... but whatcha gonna do? I do want to thank those friends that have already helped out with my little rescue project ;-) If anyone else wants to donate to the cause, you can Paypal me at sarahstangl [at] gmail [dot] com. Every little bit helps out a lot. We've just got a lot of food to buy!!! He's eating at least double what will be his normal feeding once we've got him up to weight, and that, my friends, is not cheap. We are surviving though!

So... I've got my two big dogs. This was my "next step" in life. I can handle that :-)

I almost died today.

I don't actually fear for my life much. Nor does it usually "flash before my eyes."

Today, it did.

My friend Alison and I had decided to run out to the animal shelter to check out this Dane that they have (I'll tell that story when there's a conclusion to it). On our way back, we decided to swing by a Speedway gas station so I could cash in on my Speedy Rewards. As we pulled up to the intersection across from the gas station, the wind started to pick up and I saw small branches and leaves blowing and thought "Huh... well shit... I hope this isn't what I think it is." I'm an Iowa girl. I know what this shit looks like. We cross the intersection and the rain starts coming down harder and the wind starts to pick up and Alison and I look at each other and say "Shit... but no sirens?" So we're sitting in the car and my brain goes through the following dialogue:
Shit... okay... just high winds... the weather man said just high winds...
Sarah, you know better-- this isn't just "high winds"...
Wait, what's that noise? Oh... listen to Bunny's top blow...
Wait... it sounds like the metal on a pole barn that's starting to go... wait... what? Holy shit the awning...
You had to park between the propane tanks and the gas pumps didn't you? Shit...
If the awning falls...?
Crap... look at the roof on the place next door... Shit... now I can't see anything...
We cannot stay in this car...

I looked at Alison and said "It's a tornado. And it may touch down. We have to go in. We cannot stay in this car."
We get out and all I can think is "must avoid flying debris" but couldn't see well enough to know if anything was flying. As we ran towards the door a woman working there appears in the door and says "We aren't selling anything! You can't come in! We lost power!" I said "WE CANNOT STAY IN THE CAR!!! CAN WE COME IN?!!??!" as I push past her, not really caring what she says, certain that the wicked witch is going to fly by any second (or maybe a cow...). Debris flew past, although not as much as I expected to see. A transformer blew. The creaking of the awning continued...

...and it was all over in about a minute or so...

The wind nearly stopped. The rain died down. The awning stopped creaking. Alison and I looked at each other and decided to go get cigarettes and perhaps some ice cream at the grocery store instead. We both just wanted to go home. We got into the car, shaking like leaves. Alison says "Sarah, we just almost died."
"Yes, yes we did."
"What the hell was that?"
"That was a tornado overhead that didn't touch down...or at least didn't touch down for long and not in the Speedway parking lot."
"Fuck, seriously?"
We looked at the roof of the place next door. It was all torn up and nearly off. Yeah, we did almost just die. If that roof had flown off... and we'd stayed in the car... damn.

But we're alive. Possibly the scariest moment of my life, but we're alive. Both pretty shaken up...but alive.

Damn. What the hell? Today's just been weird...

An Observation

Isn’t it interesting how one’s guidelines for a relationship change over time? I suppose that some people manage to find someone appropriate early on and don’t have to start working within the confines that age and position in life force one in to. In your late teens/early 20s, when the possibility that you might meet someone that you might spend the rest of your life with is fairly high, the sort of things you are looking for fall into areas like “potential”; potentially a good parent, potentially a successful person, potentially not an asshole. You rely more on passion and that funny thing called “love” that we are all positive we understand at that age. Some people stop there. Potential is enough, and that funny thing called “love” is enough to convince them to buckle down, hitch up, and start propagating the species. Maybe the potential is met, or maybe their standards are low enough, and all goes fine and life is lovely and wonderful and your Facebook status updates consist of declarations of your love for spouse and children. Or maybe it isn’t met and you find yourself back at that single place.

When you are single in your mid-20s, you are most likely headed in a fairly clear direction in terms of your career, although it splits off when you look at people that a) have already established their career, b) are working on establishing their career, or c) know what they should be doing but aren’t doing it yet. Regardless, you are in a bit different place in terms of seeking out relationships. It’s not really potential that you are looking for, as much as actuality. Is someone else in the same place (a, b, or c) as you are? Is that place at least compatible with where you are? This is not to say that potential doesn’t play a big role here as well, but there tends to be a bit more established that gives one more of an ability to assess an individual’s potential. By your mid-20s you either know who you are, or you think you do, and so other things enter in to your dating choices like compatible (if not similar) interests and likes and dislikes. You know by this point that if you are going to date someone that likes horror movies and you don’t, that this could be an issue. However, you still might find yourself wooed by potential. Big plans are easy to make, since not much has been all that well established in your life. You also still allow for the possibility that you’ll spend 60+ years with someone. You are still fertile and your clock is ticking, so finding someone to make babies with is paramount. Actually, hooking up at all is paramount, as everyone around you is steadily entering into that great institution of marriage, and having children of their own.

I suppose I cannot fully speak from experience at this point, because I’m going to talk about dating in your 30s. Having barely entered the world of 30, I can’t make many claims, but I can make some observations. By now, hopefully you’ve had some relationship experience. You are probably far more likely (I would hope) to know who you are, and at the very least the sorts of things you aren’t compatible with. Many of those bits from your mid-20s about compatibility in terms of all sorts of random things from books and movies to music remain to some degree, but by then you’ve figured out that for those things to be in some way compatible, rather than similar, is far more interesting. You are, most likely, pretty well established in terms of a career path, and are most likely well on your way, if not already there. You are probably pretty sure of what you want and what you need as well. This means that in seeking out relationships you are probably looking for more specific things. Potential plays a minor role, as nothing but “potential” at this point really just means someone is a bit of a loser. Since you are more well-established, and they presumably are as well, other considerations that maybe you wouldn’t have considered years earlier have become an issue. Things like existing family situations (ie. children, dogs, etc.) and geographic locations tend to become a tad more important. Instead of breaking up with someone because they are a jerk, you are put in a position to end things because you just can’t see yourself staying in the same geographic location they want to be in. Or you can’t see yourself taking on children, or having that other person take on your children. Or maybe you are with someone that just isn’t as keen as you are on the prospect of having more than one Great Dane mix… At this point, depending on what you want in life, that vision is probably much less likely to be compatible with someone else’s vision. Whatever you’ve worked hard to establish and wherever you see yourself ending up, may very well not be compatible with anyone else’s idea. Of course, even if that piece is compatible, nothing else might be.

I suppose I don’t mean it all to sound completely hopeless—or even sound like I’ve lost all hope. I really just find it interesting how much those things have changed and evolved over the years—some of that changing more drastically and substantially in the last few years. I suppose the solution is either not being the sort of person that has a well-defined vision for their life, or at least one that isn’t very limited. Of course, that’s not all that attractive is it? ;-)

Another one bites the dust...and some movies you should see

I've found myself single again. Luckily, I think I've gained a pretty cool friend out of the deal-- but we weren't so compatible in the relationship category. I think I like this new "method" I'm trying. Give things a little time getting to know someone...and ending it when it needs to end instead of waiting too long... I think it'll work. We'll see...

Anyway, I spent most of my weekend watching a fair amount of excellent horror flicks and decided I wanted to share my recommendations.

Funny Games (2007) is a remake of the 1997 Spanish original, by the original director. I haven't ventured into looking at the 1997 original, because I'm told there's no need to-- it's a shot for shot remake and you don't have to read subtitles. The basic premise is that two young men take a family hostage in their own house. I must say I don't think I have been that uncomfortable since Last House On The Left (1972). Or maybe since the last time I decided to watch like four Dario Argento movies in a row... Anyway, it was fantastic. The use of color and contrast was really interesting. The emotional rollercoaster he guides you along was brilliant. There were a couple "WTF?" moments, but they make sense in the emotional manipulation scheme of things.

Dead Snow (2009) was way better than expected. I saw it pop up on Netflix Watch-It-Now and thought "Hmmm...zombies? nazis? How could it go wrong?" I expected a campy mess, quite honestly. However, I was pleasantly surprised. This Norwegian zombie/slasher (for lack of a better description) was actually pretty great with some excellent special effects, some great usage of lighting, and some fantastically done Nazi zombies leftover from WWII. There were a couple shout outs to classics Evil Dead and Dead Alive, which made me pretty happy.

I honestly don't know how I didn't see The Burning (1981) sooner. I think I actually did see it once upon a time...but it was awhile ago and I'd clearly forgotten. With effects by Tom Savini, this classic camp slasher flick is an excellent example of the camp/slasher genre. It did what it did rather well and included very young actors Jason Alexander, Fisher Stevens (yep, the guy from Short Circuit), and even a quick appearance from a young Holly Hunter. However, I think the most exciting part for me was Leah Ayres as one of the main roles. Who the heck is Leah Ayres? Why she's "the chick" from Bloodsport! Woohoo! Anyway, excellent film.

The Prowler (1981) is another film that Savini did the effects on around the same time. Another teen scream slasher (only this time focusing on college kids), the plot line was actually bearable and fairly reasonable. Again, I'd have to say Savini's effects saved the film...but definitely interesting.

Someday I'll do more than seasonal updates...

Oh so much to tell...and yet...so little. I figured it was beyond time for an update. I think frequently about updating, I just rarely manage to actually do it. In my defense, there are about 4 drafts sitting in my blogger account that I never posted. Why not? Eh. They seemed...unimportant, I suppose?

Primarily, as usual, I've been working too hard. Plans for Pride are well underway. We are way ahead of our usual schedule in terms of planning, which is good because we'll have a better event, but slightly annoying because instead of devoting all of my time through May and into June to Pride stuff, I've been doing about 10 hours a week for the last couple of months (which I expect to continue until the day of). This will be the third big pride event we've done, and we've learned a lot along the way. Last year I handed the drag show off to someone else, as the first year made me want to put a size 15 stiletto in my eye. However, there was just as much trouble to be had giving it to someone else last year (too many f-bombs on the PA system in downtown) so it is back in my hands. *sigh* That, in and of itself, has been an educational process. We've decided to do a fundraiser/competition to decide who gets to perform. We'll see how that goes. I'm hoping well? But it appears we may have a little boycott on our hands, as some are less than pleased that they have to compete for something they've done the last couple of years. I suppose time will tell... It should be a really amazing event. We have some fantastic musical performances lined up during the day, and luckily, my committee agreed to have the lovely little Rockabilly band I loved oh so much from last year playing throughout the day. My only beef thus far is that I have been unable to convince my committee that we should have PBR on tap. Oh well. You win some you lose some.

I think the last time I updated I was unsure about my job continuing. While nothing is official, I feel confident enough to stop searching for jobs elsewhere. For one, competition is fierce for positions like mine thanks to a growing population of the over-educated and unemployed. After a couple conversations with my boss & mentor, I was able to step back and realize that I am getting amazing professional development and mentoring here. As much as I'd like to be closer to friends & family in Iowa and my mom in Minnesota, I can't walk away from the opportunities I feel like a couple more years of development will provide. It's rather amazing when I really look back on it. On a minimal level, conversations with my boss have progressed from "What do I do with this situation?" to "Give me permission and back me up if I handle this this way." In some ways, I almost felt like I was getting bored. However, I realized that "boredom" is more because I know what I'm doing, I know how to do it, and it is coming easier and easier as time goes on. January was my 3 year anniversary in my position. I suppose it is good that I've figured it out by now. After some minor attitude adjustments, I'm back to really loving what I do and being able to be more productive and forward looking.

Hank is doing fairly well. We had another severe bout of separation anxiety, so bad that I thought we were going to have to medicate him. Luckily he's not generally destructive, although he did decide chewing on the corners of the coffee table (that isn't actually mine and belongs to a friend) was a good idea. I suppose it's right there at mouth height... He primarily just howled/screamed/bayed all day while I was gone for a couple weeks...maybe 3 weeks. My neighbors were less than thrilled. However, somehow things improved slightly, all on their own. He even managed to stay with some friends of mine for a couple days while I made a trip back to Iowa to see a few friends and catch my mom while she was at my brother's. He spent most of his time staring at the door, but he managed. This is pretty amazing considering I've been unable to leave him at a friend's for even an hour most of the time. I know rescue dogs go through phases, so I'm going to hope that was another phase and he'll pretty much be over it. I know that he's also been a tad harrassed by some kids in the building (running by smacking the door while I'm gone), so it has been time to look for somewhere else to live.

There are a lot of bad landlords in this city, so I wasn't about to blindly start looking at ads for houses to rent. However, a friend asked her fantastic landlord if she had anything open, and lo and behold, she did. I'll be moving into a 3 bedroom duplex (a big old house converted probably 60 years ago to a side by side duplex) with a little yard. It's closer to campus, which will be nice, and is also directly across the street from my friend that recommended it. As excited as we are to be neighbors, part of that excitement is knowing that we are both such homebodies that have anti-social streaks that nobody will be showing up on anybody's doorstep unannounced. The place is beautiful, with hardwood floors and big windows and an open staircase. I'm most excited about the washer and dryer really...and the ability to put Hank out on a line rather than having to walk down stairs and go outside and wait for him to do his thing while I freeze. It'll cost a bit more, but it's manageable. I was a little hesitant, actually, until I found out it came with a 2 car garage. It looks like I'll be moving the week after Pride. That's not the most ideal time I suppose, as I'm usually exhausted, but I get to take lots of flex-time that week, so it will be easier in that respect. The good news is that I will have a couple of guest bedrooms that won't be occupied by a litter box. I'm rather excited about this, as should everyone else be, since my living room floor has served as a guest room since my spare bedroom currently is overtaken by Baxter. (yay for basements!)

I've been dating again. Nothing like a new relationship to remind you how screwy the last one was. I'm taking my time with this one, carefully getting to know her, and still even trying to figure out what exactly I want. That being said, I'll leave it at that for now. I am a difficult woman to date... some might accuse me of being married to my work. While I'm not entirely sure that's true, I do have an interesting schedule sometimes which doesn't help things much. Nevermind that I'm not very good at dating local women...ha! It's entirely too hard to date women here. My position is so public that everyone is either a student or a potential volunteer (ie. someone I need to not piss off). Eh, what do you do? But yes. I'm dating one person at the moment. We'll see how that goes.

As stressed as I have gotten lately, and as difficult as things have seemed, I've been trying to be a tad more reflective and be thankful for how far things have come. While I struggled financially for several months after making the switch from a poor grad student to a full time job, I'm actually living within my means now. I'm still trying to take care of the ridiculous amount of credit card debt I managed to incur while I was a student. It isn't easy, but I'm trying to remain hopeful. Some day it will go away... some day... Nevermind that student loan payments start soon. *sigh* But yes. Things are getting better. I still look at old classmates on Facebook who keep popping out children and wonder how in the hell they are ready for that, but I remind myself that I will, most likely, NEVER be ready for such things. And, well, I refuse to believe that makes me less of an adult. What does make me an adult, however, is realizations such as "Sarah, you cannot get another enormous dog until you get a bigger car." While this realization doesn't make me all that happy, at least I'm no longer trying to make life harder for myself.

So yes... if anyone is still reading this... all is well in the life of me. I'm learning on a daily basis-- but I consider that an accomplishment in and of itself.

Goodbye 2009 (and an update)

A lot has happened in 2009. I spent most of it in a relationship with someone I hoped was my other half. I went from being an underpaid, over-worked grad assistant to being a decently paid (yet still over-worked) full-timer. After many years of patiently waiting, I have a dog in my life again. And I ended it a single dog-mommy.

Yes, a single dog-mommy.

What can I say? Sometimes things don't work out the way we hope they will. Yes, I'm doing fine. I suppose I've been more relieved than anything else, although I occasionally wonder if it has actually set in.

I headed to my Mom's in Minnesota for Christmas. I was glad that I was able to do that a mere 2 and a half weeks after my disengagement. I got a couple good bonding days with my Mom before the rest of the family arrived. Partially out of fear that it would be the last holiday with the grandparents, my mom's siblings and several cousins decided to make the trek up for the holidays. It was great to see everyone. Although...I'd be lying if I didn't spend part of it annoyed; I suppose there's a reason I don't see my extended family all that often. All in all it was a good trip and was much-needed. My Mom has fully embraced Hank as her grand-dog, and I think was actually sad to see him (and I) leave. He did really well hanging out in Mom's basement and got to meet the family as well. I did have to laugh, though, because Hank kept finding himself excited, then overwhelmed by all the smells outside. The deer, fox, squirrels, and birds that track around Mom's yard left trails everywhere

I attempted to see some friends in Iowa City on New Year's Eve, as I stopped through for a quick visit on my way back to Michigan. However, driving 8 hours from Mom's and then trying to go out proved rather difficult. I didn't get to spend a whole lot of time with anyone, or that many folks either. I'll be planning a trip back sometime soon. I need a little Iowa City time.

Tomorrow I'm back to work. Soon I'll be completing the "report" of my time and happenings in my job thus far that may or may not result in a permanent full-time position. As things stand now, I am unemployed at the end of June. No worries, however. I've got a couple job leads and other jobs will soon be posted. I think ultimately, I'd rather not stay here for more than another year and a half, and would really like to look at moving back to the other side of the Lake (Iowa/Minnesota/Wisconsin). I think I've been away from family long enough. And, lets be honest, I never really wanted to stay in this godforsaken state for this long anyway. I suppose we'll see what happens. Atheist or not, I figure that "the way" tends to be shown, even if its just because things generally work out when you've got your shit together. Amazing, huh? Me, having my shit together? I suppose it had to happen eventually.

But yes, all is well. I leave you with a picture of Hank hanging out at my mom's.

I friggin love this.

When am I gonna learn...

...that Sunday night shows are rarely a good idea? I'm clearly not in to work yet, sitting at home, nursing a hangover that is not equivalent to the amount of beer I drank. Damn you age 30... you are looming entirely too closely. Regardless, I needed the alt-country/rockabilly show I hit up last night. I needed to abandon Coordinator me, and just be Sarah Stangl for a little while. And maybe I needed to prove that being this close to age 30 is no big deal. Clearly I was wrong about that one.

I did hear some damn good music last night though. I went to see Jason & The Punknecks. If you get the chance, you should definitely go see them. If Johnny & June had happened post-punk, they would've been Jason & Polly. We all know I'm generally not a fan of female vocals, but Polly's June-Carter-esque vocals sucked me in. I originally wasn't thrilled with the opening bands on the list, but discovered a Kalamazoo gem, Brother Bill. They might have been a little too heavy on the "country" side rather than the "alt" side if it weren't for their amazing slap-string-bassist. He was probably one of the best slap-string bass players I've ever seen. (That's saying a lot, actually.) I'm looking forward to seeing them again, if only for the bass. Just as I'm jonesin' for Iowa City and a Will Whitmore show, I also got to see the one-man-band Smokestack and the Foothill Fury. He was fantastic. And grateful for a beer. Even if PBR was too "high-end" for him. I can't even help it... my farmgirl heart loves that toe-tappin' folk/country/bluegrass/roots music... especially when a slight punk influence is involved.

Combined with the roller derby game I saw earlier yesterday, I had a pretty good weekend. Even if I do feel like complete and total shit today.