The Real Life of a Geeky Tai-Tai

If you’re thinking about adopting a rescued dog, please take a moment to read this:

I want to save a rescue dog that no one else would pick.
But please…
I couldn’t handle one that was too old…or sick.

I want a dog with fluffy hair that’s silky to the touch;
A dog I wouldn’t have to groom
(the work would be too much!).

My allergies are bad, and so the dog must never shed
or jump up on my velvet couch
or sleep with me in bed.

The size is not important, but the dog can’t be too tall.
And while I’m not being choosy,
I’d prefer he not be small.

Cute and cuddly, sweet and smart
and one who doesn’t chew.
Of course he must be housebroken (my carpeting is new).

A dog who’s quiet in his crate (I work twelve hours a day);
A dog who isn’t hyper,
and yet one who likes to play.

Of course all vetting must be done (it’s easier for me).
And I don’t want to pay a lot
for an “adoption fee”.

Ah, yes…it truly warms my heart to save a dog in need.
I’ll pick a dog that no one wants:
a noble choice indeed!

A dog that no one else could love: a homeless dog that’s needy….
I only wish those rescues weren’t so fussy–
and so greedy!

Marti Houge
One Starfish Rehoming Connections
www.onestarfish.petfinder.com

Last Friday, I went to get a pedicure. While I was in the salon, my friend called and left me a voice-mail. When I was finished with my pedicure, I stepped outside near the mailbox by Publix to return her phone call and have a smoke before I went grocery-shopping.

My friend and I only talked for about 2 minutes, so I stood there to finish my cigarette and daydream (my feet were tingly, I was very relaxed, and it was a beautiful day). Shortly, I noticed a young man on a bicycle. He approached me and asked, “Could you spare a cigarette?”

Me, sort of dumbfounded, “Uh, sure, yes.” I reached into my purse to give him one. Rather than leave on his bicycle, he continued, “Do you know if there are any shelters around here?” as he motioned in the direction of the apartments across from Wendy’s.

I told him that I didn’t know of any assistance programs in this area, and asked, “Why do you need a shelter? Where are your parents?”

“My name is Nathan”, he proffered a handshake, and I accepted it with reservation. “I moved here from California with my girlfriend after being dishonorably discharged from the Marines.” He looked down, then looked me in the eye, “I wouldn’t follow orders, and the Marines don’t tolerate disobedience.”

He continued his story, “My mom is (I can’t remember now) and my dad is incarcerated in the State of California. My girlfriend (I can’t remember that now either) and we were evicted from our apartment. I don’t have any place to stay. I’m going for a job interview at Wendy’s at 3:30.”

I apologized for not knowing any sort of community organizations to help him, but I told him, “I’ve only got a small bit of cash, and you can have these ($4 and 4 cigarettes). I’m sorry I only know how to rescue dogs. Here’s my card if you need any other help” and I gave him one of my newly-printed cards with my phone number on it.

Something about Nathan made me care and want to help him. I’ve thought about him several times since then, but since I hadn’t heard from him, I just hoped he was OK.

At 2:04 today I got a phone call from a local number, but it was unfamiliar to me. It was Nathan calling from the In-Town Suites Extended Stay nearby.

I asked, “How are you Nathan? Did you get the job at Wendy’s?”

He replied, “Yes, I did, and I start work tomorrow.”

Me, “Where have you been staying?”

Nathan, “I’m at this hotel, and I asked if I could use the phone to call you, but I’ve been sleeping at The Park.”

Me, “Have you eaten?”

Nathan, “Yes, I ate last night…”

Me, “Well, I just put a frozen pizza in the oven. How about I bring you some?”

Nathan, “How long do you think it will take?”

I told him that I’d just heated the oven, so it was going to take me at least an hour to meet him at The Park.

I cut the pizza (after eating 3 tiny pieces myself) wrapped it in foil, then started thinking, “What else do we have on-hand here that he could eat?”

I scrounged through our cupboards and made a care-package of Uncle Ben’s Ready Rice, a foil-pack of tuna, the 3 applesauce packs in the fridge, some of the plastic utensils and napkins I keep in the kitchen-drawer, a pack of cigarettes, and my last $20.

As I was getting these things together, I realized that I was alone, and I didn’t have anyone to go with me to meet him.

I thought about stopping at the City Police Station, but I didn’t/don’t want to get him into trouble with the law. All I could think about was the real-life nightmare that my family lived through not so long ago.

Since it was daylight, I decided to forgo the police and take a spin over to the park to look for Nathan. As I entered the big parking lot on The Parkway, a City Police cruiser pulled in behind me and followed me. I felt relief to know the police routinely patrol the park. Since I didn’t see Nathan, I went back around the “block” again. I reentered the parking lot about 10 minutes later, and there he was.

He had a big smile on his face once he recognized me. I lifted the bag out of my partially-lowered window (my purse beneath my legs, phone in my pocket, and the doors locked). As he took the bag, I told him, “Next time, I’ll meet you at Zaxby’s and treat you to a good meal.” Nathan looked cold, but he wore jacket. I was relieved about that because I was looking for something to keep him warm at night and couldn’t find anything in our closets.

Nathan smiled and said, “Thank you.”

I watched out of my rear-view mirror as he disappeared back into a wooded area of the park, and I drove back home.

Marty, 20 months old, sable with black tipping on ears, soft, silky hair 11 lbs, microchipped, wearing red harness w/ rescue tag & black lead attached. Marty is a rescue dog, bolted from his fosterhome – he is a VERY fearful, scared boy to begin with. DO NOT chase. Call 631.764.3749 if sighted.

Some of you may not be aware that my husband and I repatriated just over a year ago after living in Singapore for nearly 4 years.  While overseas, MANY things were replaced except for the roof and the central air. Last year, I knew that we would be required to have our central air replaced because of the freon issue.  I was informed many times as the air-conditioner-repair-dude (ACRD) was recharging our system.  I felt terribly guilty at the time, but $$$ preclude guilt on occasion.

and

Robin

I’ve got to try this one…

Bacon-Flavored Vodka Comes To Town – Digital City – Local Lifestyle & Entertainment News.

If any of you follow me on Twitter, you’ll already know that I had a blast at my second TequilaCon. There were pre-TequilaCon parties, adventures, as well as post, and post-post TequilaCon festivities.  I am tired! 

We TequilaCon-ers have pooled together our pics on Flickr.  There were a lot of talented photographers at TC, so you should definitely check them out.  

I had so much fun getting to see bloggers I’ve had the pleasure of meeting before at other blogger fun-fests:

 Dave2, Dustin, Jenny, Karl, NYC Watchdog, Poppy, Rachel, Robin, Sarah, and Vahid.

and meeting bloggers I’ve read a while as well as bloggers I will be adding to my blogroll:

Brandon, Carrington, Colleen, Jason, Marty, Ren, Scott, and Wayne

If you ever have the opportunity for a blogger meet-up, do it!  You’ll have a wonderful time.  I promise

I’m sitting in a Best Western hotel in Albuquerque.  I made the big mistake of getting a smoking room, and it is the STINK!   I always say I’ll never get another smoking room, but if I’m alone, I always do.  I’m allergic. I get sinus infections. I’m an idiot!

Anyway, I’m sitting in this stinky room, awake too soon because one of the drapery hooks is off the rod.  Sunlight hit my eyes at around 6:30 this morning.  I tried to turn over to avoid the light, but then I had to pee.  I tried to keep my eyes half-shut and stumble into the bathroom, but they opened on me.  I am awake.  Too early.

I got some breakfast and lots of coffee.  I’m on a carb overload as of now.  I will regret that too, later on today.  

So, as I was Twittering my friends about meeting up in Sante Fe for TequilaCon ’09 , I began thinking about last year’s big bash in Philadelphia (home of Hall and Oates) and Lisa’s neck of the woods.  Michael and I arrived in NY from Singapore May 1, stayed the night in NY, then drove down to Philly.  TequilaCon ’08 was the first thing we did as repatriated Americans.  

We’ve been repatriated almost a year, and the year has flown by!  The opportunity to actually meet these on-line friends IRL (in real life) is so cool!  I am a very lucky lady, I know that and am very grateful.  I am missing Lisa right now, but I know she’s with us and wanting us to have a blast.

I will Twitter about stuff that I think is cool, and I’ll try to post here before the big BeerHer bash tonight.

Right now, I need a shower, but I will wait to wash my hair until I get to Sante Fe. This room stinks.  I am an idiot.

All day long Friday I was running around the house like a chicken with my head cut-off.  I was a nervous wreck about what I should wear for my “date” with Daryl Hall and John Oates.  I was terrified I’d forget my camera, or batteries.  As it turns out, I didn’t forget a thing, and I think my outfit looked pretty good.  WHH took my picture just before we left so that I could send it out to all of my Twitter friends on TwitPic.  My sister wanted to vote on the outfits I was thinking about, but there wasn’t enough time.  I had to get a mani-pedi because there was no way I was going to meet them with janked up hands and feet.  GAH!

John Oates at soundcheck Charlie's far-right

We arrived at Chastain Park  at 4:00 at the will-call window to meet David Brunetto, a rep for Hall & Oates.  He took us into the venue for soundcheck with John and the band (apparently, Daryl does not do soundcheck).  When the band was finished with soundcheck, it was time for us to get to meet John. 

We planned on getting our passes autographed, and  I’d brought a pad of nice paper for him to sign, but at the last second Michael said, “Hell, just ask him to autograph your shirt!”  Holy moly, why hadn’t I thought of that?  Thank goodness he was with me to keep me from passing out!  I was shaking like a leaf and felt like a doofus, but John was very laid-back and friendly.  Whew! 

After meeting John, we got to go on stage and I could finally see up close and personal, Charlie DeChant’s saxophones and flute.  OMG! OMG! I’ve been playing along with him on my saxophone forEVER!  I love, love, love Charlie!  

Once I’d finished ogling his equipment (Hey, Hey, Hey! You  ol’ horn dogs! Stay with me here!) I checked out the tour bus for the crew.  Michael stayed outside and took pics of the stupid geese on the pond.  ;-)

We ate dinner with the band (I was having a hard time NOT staring at Charlie).  We’d been instructed not to take photos or bug the guys because this was their down-time before the concert.  I behaved, only because I didn’t want to get thrown out of there, and I’d yet to meet Daryl.  They served pasta, and I purposely avoided the spaghetti and red sauce because I was terrified I’d slop some on mah boobies.  I made it through the meal, no-sauce-sloppage.  That is,  until I decided to eat a piece of garlic toast.  Yep, you guessed it, that sucker flipped out of my fingers, landing on my lap and then on the floor.  I swear I’m such a freakin’ klutz.  What’re ya gonna’ do, eh?

David took us into a room backstage where we awaited Dary’ls arrival.  One guy in particular appeared even more excited than me!  His wife finally whispered to me, “Gah! He’s such a girl!”  LOL!  David had us line up so that we could get this over with as quickly as possible, you know, Daryl’s a very busy man, etc.  Yeah, yeah, OK, but I want to spend more than two seconds with the man!!!!  As we stood in line, I kept quizzing Michael, “Is my hair OK?  What about my lipgloss?  Is the food mess very noticeable?”  He assured me that Daryl would not notice the food stains on my shirt and that, yes, I looked good.  Good heavens, what  would I do without this beautiful man who married me 31 years ago???

Darryl and David Brunetto

Eventually we hear that Daryl’s approaching the room we’re in, and in he walks wearing glasses, a black leather jacket, black shirt, jeans, black boots, and OMG he was HAWT!! HAWT!!HAWT!!  My heart was racing and I kept trying to get pictures of him with my iPhone, but people kept getting in the way…

(<—–yes that one).

 David made introductions and once again explained “the rules” to us.   Oh yeah, David Brunetto sort of reminded me of Dave2.  I suppose because he’s tall, dark, and handsome except with curly hair.  DUDE, check it, he’s got a lanyard, and it looks like there could be a Bad Monkey on it. 

I thought it would never be my turn, but David was careful about moving everyone along quickly.  

We walk up to him….AND MY, OH MY, and OMG and all of that…He’s SO tall and handsome!  I’m all aquiver with excitement.  Michael’s guiding me up to him, and I’m feeling all goofy and high-school-girlish.  Duh!  We shake hands.  I really wanted to plant a big fat kiss on him, but I refrained because I was too skeered and shaking in mah sandals!  I just kind of handed him the passes I wanted him to autograph.  He signs them, and then I nervously asked, “Um, could you please sign my shirt too?”

He seemed a bit surprised about it, but then I showed him that John had signed the right side of my shirt.  As he was getting ready to sign ME, he said (I’m paraphrasing), “You know, just after you met John, his son, Tanner, was out running around playing, and he saw a man collapse.  John did CPR and saved the guy.  So you’re safe with us!”  All the while he’s telling ME this story, I’m ogling him, but hey, at least I remember the story.

I had the most wonderful time meeting these guys.  I’ve been “in love” with them since the very early 70′s.  They started the concert with “Maneater” promptly at 8 p.m.  Chastain Park is in the heart of Buckhead, and there are decibel level laws in place, so there was no need for ear-plugs (yes, I always pack them).

We had great seats, and obviously we were there early.  We sat and watched as people sat-up their picnics with tablecloths, candles, wine, booze, and lots of yummeh-smelling food.  As 8 p.m. struck, and the band began to play, people continued to “stroll” into the amphitheater lackadasically setting-up their picnics and talking all the while.  Michael and I looked at each other like, WTH is up with this shit?  

Charlie DeChant played his solo in “Maneater” and I was the first to wOOt, holler, and applaud his performance!  Charlie even peered around the speakers to “bow”.  Nobody was paying attention — except for us!  Why the hell would you pay money to see a band perform and not LISTEN to them?  Michael and I were both embarrassed and appalled by the audience at Chastain.

As the evening wore on, the audience seemed more intent on socializing and drinking than enjoying  H & O’s performance.  Anyone who knows me also knows I enjoy my martinis (or whatever), but this audience was despicable.  I’m still pissed that Michael had to ask the people behind us to lower their voices so that we could hear the band.  

Atlanta audiences, get your acts together — or the acts won’t want to come back to entertain YOU!  I know that we’re reconsidering attending many concerts lined-up this summer.  I don’t want to hear some drunk-ass dude behind me sound like a fool when I’ve paid to hear beautiful music.

Even with the drunk-ass dude ruining the concert for us, meeting John and Darryl was a night I will NEVER EVER forget!

Thank you, Michael, for doing this for me, baby.  I love you ALWAYS and FOREVER!