About two weeks ago there was a stand for that mobile phone, you know the one where in the advert everybody is bouncing around on a space hopper? Well their stand had a bunch of space hoppers and they would take photos with the phones camera and print them, to show what good quality they were. I can confirm, excellent quality, because Loz had a photo taken and it's on the works notice board (along with a beard sticker stuck on his face).

Every now and then whilst taking samples around the shopping centre we would stop by their store and give them one. In return the lady (who really liked Loz) gave us two miniature space hoppers. I had a purple one, I deliberately kept mine at work because I knew Tiger would destroy it.


It took him two days, after I bought it home. It was fun whilst it lasted.

John has finally conceded and admitted that I'm going to get what I want in the end.


We've sent in our application for Belle. We have our homecheck on Sunday.


I feel sick!

I've never wanted anything so much in all life. Though I expect I will, in the future, want something more than this, I'm sure.

With my new hair-do, if I dry my hair upside down like I used to, I look like a hedgehog. It's great. But probably not for work.

There is something exquisite about the sense of smell. A waft of a scent that brings with it a memory, tantalizingly recognizable but just enough to make you have to think about it to bring the memory to the forefront of your mind. Or a hint of someones perfume/aftershave that makes you want to lean in and smell their neck as opposed to a wave of it that hits you so hard that you lose your breath. Autumn is my favourite season, quite the opposite to my father, who sees it as the death of summer, the sounds of the leaves underfoot and the smell of the "death" of the trees. It's refreshing. It feels clean.


Speaking of smell, Tiger has been to the groomers today. It is amazing what a 2 hour session with a trained professional has done in comparison to TWO WEEKS worth of near constant grooming at my own hand. He smells delightful and he feels so soft. He actually has white parts of his body now as opposed to grey all over. I hope it lasts.


I can't write about work. A lot has happened this week that has brought about more stress than anything else. I do have London to look forward to on Monday afternoon though I'm more nervous than excited. I am not as confident as I make myself out to be.

"babe, when do you want children?"
"fucks sake woman why do you always ask such questions at the roundabout? I'm trying to concentrate"
"ok. How many do you want?"
"CLAIRE"
"oh right, the roundabout, sorry"


...

"don't think I didn't see you flirting with the lady handing out sausages at the wedding"
"CLAIRE I'm driving at 80mph in the dark, can we do this later!"
"just saying."
"I WANTED SAUSAGES NOW SHUSH WOMAN"



hehe, too easy.

Wow. I haven't updated in a long time. Life is hectic. We moved in fine, the dogs here and he's more or less fine and we may be rescuing another in the near future. Which means this blog will turn into more crazy dog lady ramblings and less crazy lady ramblings. But it is so nice to have a specific thing to ramble about.


Whilst I have no time right now, if you feel like reading about Tiger from someone who is a much better writer than I, you can visit http://www.eskidogblog.blogspot.com and if you were hoping to hear about anything other than the dog you'll have to wait until my holiday begins on monday.

I realised that everywhere else on the internet I've posted pictures of Tiger except for you, dear sweet followers, here he is.
( Read more... )

John has conceded defeat in terms of the puppy, too. We'll have her (gotta go for a female because when they were first bred, however many years ago, they hunted in pairs - male and female. As a result, unless litter mates and socialized very well they tend not to get on... being as we have a rescue with admittedly no noticeable aggression but also no real idea of the past 2 years of his life, its safer to go with a female. And they're a bit smaller, as a rule) by december. AAAAAAAAAAH. It's our christmas present to ourselves lol. He even said I could get a brindle pup, which is my favourite colouring, if they breeder have any (though it's unlikely as their pairings have never had brindle in their lines and I don't think the stud dog has any either, but who knows? we get first pick so. Fingers crossed!)


Also, I've been helping a lady at work with her partners parents dogs training. She suggested I go into obedience training when I have the time/opportunity/money, because of how knowledgable I am on my own (never having owned a dog) and how passionate I am about them. So now I have outside opinions of my inner feelings, which is always handy as John just suggests what he thinks I want.

OH and he said that when we have a bit of money behind us we can consider setting up a breeding situation of Shiba Inus. Which is exciting. I love the idea of being able to contribute to a breed positively, especially one as rare (over here) as the Shiba. We were going to breed Akitas but there are already so many fantastic breeders/lines that we wouldn't want to add to it for fear of only diluting the lines that have already been set up, and offering bad people the chance to own a good dog (such as what happened with Tiger).

ALSO! (I am aware that no-one on my FList is a fan of dogs but, screw it, this is my little part of the internetz) We've been tracing back Tigers lineage, he is pedigree but was the result of a backyard breeders easy money making efforts, we're in touch with the two breeders of his dam/sire, they're both very angry at the breeders because there was a contract not to breed and I think there may be a witch hunt to find them because they're not registering their pups with the Kennel Club, or health screening them. They're just assuming two pedigree dogs will result in pedigree litters, which isn't necessarily true. Urgh. I have my pitchfork ready.


In other news, there is no news. Plan is to move out for saturday but we may not even own the house by then because our soliciter seems to be using the thousand pounds we've given him to pick his arse and listen, whilst smoking an expensive cigar, to our agitated voicemails. Work is same old same old, I have another 6 day week, including 2 double shifts. Rar.

We found a home for tiger. A young couple called Claire and John. They're very excited.

John was at work today and out jumped from in front of his car a full grown American Akita. John, who loves dogs and has noticed a serious issue with out of control dogs in his area, carries two leads in his kit. He managed to catch the dog and walk it home.

They asked him "do you want him?" he explained we couldn't because we haven't got a house to look after him, nor do we have a crate (they don't either) but that if they gave us till the 1st of august we'd foster him till we could find a suitable home for them. John left to finish work, on his way home he noticed the dog out in the street again and offered to walk him for them so he'd be too tired to escape. He did this and then, on a whim, decided (about 6pm) to go back and take some photos of the dog for the Friends Of Akitas Trust rescue site so we could find a forever home ASAP. Well, guess who was out walking in the street again? The owners, who hadn't noticed he'd gone missing, laughed about it. John called me and asked for advice, I don't want this dog to get run over. He is a perfect looking, male (neutered), well socialised akita. He has his papers, he's not aggressive with other people, small children and he will be handled whilst he's eating. The only problem is he has no obediance training whatsoever, but aside from a little bit of pulling on the lead there are no serious problems.

So we brought him home. I've gone to the neighbours to explain that any barking is due to a dog we've fostered shortly because of an accident in the family. They've all been very sympathetic.

He's beautiful. Honestly. We just can't have him here. In the morning we're going to have to take him back to that awful, uncaring family and hope he survives this dance with the cars until the 1st. It's upsetting. I'm hoping to spend some of my savings on a crate big enough to hold him at their house until then and then we'll take both dog and crate with us. We're about to take him on a walk and then, I shall return, with pictures.

Can anyone offer us any advice (aside from STOP GETTING TO ATTACHED) for fostering a dog? We don't want to stress him out being in a new home etc etc. We need to do right by this dog, he deserves it :(


oh, he also has a bloodshot eye due to a dog fight (he was out in the street, apparently, and a dog barked at him and lunged for him, so he fought back. Neither dog was hurt. However I don't know how much truth their is to this because obviously the owners probably weren't there. However we've seen no aggression so far and he has encountered dogs on leash with my fiance this afternoon.)

RavenSoul. Shadowheart. Demonstorm.

The books in the Raven series I am yet to buy. Hello, Waterstones.

I hadn't realised how protective of the Starbucks Company I've become. I know that a lot of what I've heard is probably the same as every company feeds their employees (or partners, as we are at Starbucks) but I must say, I'm impressed. Not with the management in my immediate circle but the upper ranks and the company as a whole? Definitely.

I am the first one to jump to Starbucks' defense when someone complains without the grounds to. Today I walked past a couple who were discussing Starbucks drinks and the girl said "oh, I hate Starbucks. None of their drinks have flavour, you know why that is though don't you? It's because they use water instead of milk". I had to bite down the urge to inform her that the only drink made with water is an Americano (which is designed that way - apparently based on the observation of Italians in their real coffee shops, sipping their espressos, that all Americans find espresso too strong and so add hot water to dilute it. Much harder to repress was the urge to say "maybe you should stop ordering tap water, then" which, in hindsight, is a rather witless response, but at the time it made me chuckle.



Also, whilst I'm talking about companies, I went into Game today to see if I could find this alleged Resident Evil game for the wii (that isn't The Umbrella Chronicles). When I couldn't find that I settled for Tomb Raider: Anniversary. I took it to the counter, prepared to pay the £24.99 fee when the guy behind the counter explained there was a copy in the preowned section for £9.99, saving me about £15. He was cheerful, chipper and eager to save me money. Cute, too.

me and John are currently involved in a stand-off. He was cold and weird with me, after I bought him food and treats and was nice. So, I drank. I know he hates me drinking (regardless of the situation) and so I did it to anger him, in the hopes he'd get so angry that he'd tell me the original problem. I know, I know, it makes very little sense.


Now I'm drunk, I have no moisturizer and cannot stop wringing my hands. And I still don't know what on earth is wrong with him. So I'm panicking. I cannot sleep, I cannot move, typing is ok at the moment but I cannot know how long it'll be before I can do nothing but curl up with my hands clasped together, praying for sleep. It is, in a way, ironic. He doesn't believe in my "ocd". I don't suppose anyone really does. It seems silly, on the face of it. I use a lot of moisturizer and when I'm stressed, I wring my hands. A lot. Most people probably don't even notice. I'm on the verge of hysterics. It makes me feel physically ill. I may have to walk to work.

edit//


interesting facts (or at least, to me)

1. Half an hour is both longer and shorter than it feels.
2. The bracing cold will also relieve stress
3. A cigarette in said bracing cold will continue to relieve stress.
4. It will not relieve enough stress so that you can feel normal, or even near normal
5. Walking back from aforementioned cigarette/bracing cold and swapping 4 door mats over to other peoples doors will bring unbridled, childlike, glee.
6. Your partner, if he is in a mood enough, will not follow you when you leave the apartment. There is a limit to what will drive him to the outdoors to follow and pester and worry. This is his limit, he will not even call to ask where you've been but will notice when you come home.


I do hope I don't have to repeat this process too many times tonight in order to relieve my stress as I am alarmingly low on cigarettes (in an attempt to force myself to quit) and there are limited doormats in the apartment building of New Hampton Lofts, and I don't know if I want to attempt to break in to another building, just to play with doormats (regardless of the glee it brings).

I had an interesting bus journey today, I kid you not, everything I am about to type ACTUALLY HAPPENED.

As we, the populous, were getting on the bus, two push chairs came on, the driver asked them both to hang on a minute because there was a gentleman in a wheel chair and thus they could not fit the two pushchairs on without a bit of rearranging. The women complained whilst the guy did his best to maneuver himself from his position to another. It made no difference, from where I was stood, but he moved as he was asked. The woman proceeded to attempt to shove her (overly) large pushchair into the space available and then started telling the man to get a car. I'll carry this on, as accurately as I can, in terms of what was said.

"Yo, why are you on the bus? Just get a car man"
"I don't have a car and even if I did I wouldn't be able to drive it"
"Nah man the government give you people chauffers to drive, you're taking up space on the bus for pushchairs"
"The problem I have is that I can't just get out of my wheelchair to fold it up. You could, you could put your child in a seat with you and fold your chair up"
"nah man I can't it's full of stuff, it only folds when it's empty"
"We'll just have to attempt to get along for this journey then"
"it's just dangerous having my chair like this, you should get a car"
"Well why don't you get a car?"
"I haven't got a license, yo. I can't afford it. You can get yours for free"
"I'm not aware of a government incentive that drives wheelchair bound people for free"
"Just get a car man, or the train"
"There's no train station where I live"
"you can just ride to a station. Or just get a car. Why are you in a wheelchair anyway yo?"
"I caught a disease that paralysed me from the waist down"
"oh, yo, is it contagious?!" (whilst cowering)
"no, no. Its similar to the flu, I caught it and it damaged... *something*"
"you know what that is don't you? Fucking illegal immigrants spreading disease"

I got off the bus. I couldn't take it anymore, I walked the rest of the way. Maybe I should get a car.

Negative people are stupid.

Which is a fairly negative thing to say, but there, I said it. Life is short. Far too short to be worrying about what other people did 5 years ago and constantly musing on how it may have affected you now or what you'd be like if only you'd been popular.

Please. STOP. Argh. Boredom.


In another rant, this is something I've been whinging about for at least 3/4 of my day, I took a literacy and numeracy test today at work to qualify for the NVQ I've been offered in Retail... something or other. I got Level 2 in Literacy and Level 1 in Maths. HOW? I'm shit at maths, I can barely tell the time let alone work out the median and the mean or remember what Pi is. I read several books a week when I can afford it, I write nearly constantly and I do my best to talk and type correctly (or at least coherently) even when drunk/excited. HOW?


I'm rather disappointed with myself, the instructor asked "Are you sure you got an A* in GCSE English and an A in A-Level?". No. I'm not sure I did. WAA.


A very negative post, slightly hypocritical in fact. I had a really amusing conversation last night with Paul Conway from school, we'd seen each other twice in town and both failed to initiate conversation and so, at the exact same time over MSN, said "Hey". It was nice to not have to think or care what I was saying, very enjoyable conversation. I'll post it at some point.

Oh and Johns step dad is in hospital. Thoughts and Prayers? Thanks :)

I have had a very enjoyable evening. You should know, of course, before you start, that I am very drunk. As highlighted by the excessive comma-ing. It started off as you would expect from a Hagley (Hagley being my high school) gathering, seeing random old friends that don't stop to say hello and then being stood up (in terms of lateness not dismissal) by the friend you were supposed to meet. Then there was the obligatory awkwardness from friendships lost and friendships gained before the alcohol set in and I began not to care about the memories of high schools past.

And that is where new friendships were seemingly (happens every time) forged, old friendships reviewed and even older friendships strengthened. What I'm trying to say is that everything that I thought would happen, happened. The only surprising thing is that the good finally outweighed the bad. I don't appreciate certain things that happened in the past (nor the things that are currently happening) but finally, the good outweighs the bad. I can suck it up, laugh at bad jokes, ignore opportunities to dig and actually enjoy myself. I am... a grown up.

Every time I spend time with Jenn and we have... alone time, if you see what I mean, I realise just how close we are. And it reminds me of how lucky I am. It also makes me feel incredibly stupid to ever have risked it all by being stupid in High School. I am, however, glad that we're over it AND that we can talk about it.

I got off the bus at The "Anarchy" bus stop to walk home instead of going into town and getting the bus. The song that played as I stepped off the bus was "Love Song" cover by "Four Year Strong" and it made me think of all the fun times I've had with Jenn and, indeed, with other people I've spent the last year or so of my life with. Not wishing to sound overly emotional and drunk but not only is it an incredibly catchy song but it fits. I'm not going to write you a love song, cause you asked for it, cause you need one being the "fuck you, I'm not going to change who I am because you need to hear that you look fabulous in those jeans" translation when applied to my life.



Again with the drunk emotion, but I feel that I'm not particularly emotional in my "sober" life and if I'm going to say it, it may as well be now, I love my Fiance. The Boy is the most understanding, hilariously stupid, marvelous thing that ever happened to my life. I've genuinely never had a friend, family member or partner that I could lie all across, in pants and a shirt, reading my book or watching TV or browsing the internet with. I've never, ever, been able to just let go and focus on me whilst being in the company of someone else. To be able to do that with someone is amazing, in the last few months (since we actually found a house and it all became serious, I suspect) we haven't fought. The biggest fight I remember is me being tired, loving the book I was reading so much that I wanted someone to be in my head at the exact moment the book ended so that I could discuss everything (which, I suspect, is what book clubs were designed for) and in feeling that way, I turned around to The Boy and asked him to read it. Not only does he not have the time, genuinely (I realise this now, detached from the ending of the book and the emotions attached), but it's not his style of book.


I think thats a fairly mild argument. And, whilst I did not admit defeat despite the fact I realised it was unfair of me to expect him to read the book whilst not interested and not able to finish his own books in his own time, I only mildly argued about his laziness to read and our lack of compatibility. Sometimes I forget that normal people don't consume books like oxygen, the way I do. Nor do they read such a wide variety of utter shite that I do.


I forget the grand finale that this was leading to. I'm just very, very happy. I love my fiance, I love my friends (both the full time and the part time). I'm happy. No, happy is the wrong word. I'm content. Happiness is a fleeting thing that happens when you see a clear blue sky and a perfectly fluffy "cloud" cloud. I am content. I may even be happily content, but lets not push the boat out.

Me and The Boy are watching the Dog Whisperer, as per usual. Today there was a shitzhu dog, with an older lady and her son (approx 40). They were explaining how they couldn't walk their dog on the leash, so they let her run about without it but they felt this was dangerous, so they needed Cesar. The son exclaimed that he wanted to walk the dog on the leash "because it's a great way to meet girls". Now, it's not as hilarious as it was watching this pot bellied, balding, 40 year old to lean forward to the camera conspirationally and snivel about meeting girls through his small dog. What was funny was watching The Boy giggle with glee throughout the whole of their section of the episode and occasionally impersonate the man in his creepy "worm" voice about meeting girls and burying his head in my chest saying "hellooooooooo puppies".

This stories more for me, as opposed to you guys, I want to remember that moment of hilarity.

So, today I went to the pub with Carly and Jonny, they picked me up at Newstreet and took me down to The Dog on the Hagley Road. Me and Jonny shared an obscenely priced, average tasting Rose Wine whilst we waited for our food. It was really nice to just sit and relax, to catch up with everything they've been up to. Driving in the back watching Carly and Jonny sing, badly (deliberately) to some HairySpray The Musical song had me cracking up in the back, as they wound down their windows and basically screamed at people whilst I hid my face.

We came back to mine and Jonny marveled at the state of our house, he's never seen it quite this clean without having had some hand in it. I'd be offended by his surprise if I didn't know it were true. We are a messy couple, we'd rather lounge on the settee, legs entwined, enjoying a good book or making fun of each other than sweep and mop. We'll grow out of it, or into it, I'm sure. But life always seems just that little bit too short, especially when we barely see each other as it is. In some ways it's a good thing I have no money at the moment as we've gotten to spend a lot more time together.

In other ways, of course, it's a bad thing. I like having money, but I'll cash the chequed the tax man gave me, save up for another fortnight and be back on track.

Back to Jonny and Carly, we each played against each other at the Sonic and Mario Olympics, it was incredibly amusing. Jonnys protests at "FAIL" were most enjoyable, I'd have taken more pleasure in destroying them both but I play it regularly so it kind of defeats the object. I should've given them a handicap but I do so hate to risk losing.

Anyway, The Boys pouting that I'm not playing MarioKart with him, so I have to go.




Can't wait for our doggy. It physically hurts!

I'm applying for a writing job at a magazine that Jenn pointed me in the direction of. I'm excited. However this isn't what I wanted to write about.

You know how in a relationship there is always someone who likes the other more? Well, I carefully manipulated all my relationships so that I never had to hang precariously in the balance of not knowing. Now, I'm pretty sure I'm far more infatuated in the boy than he is in me. Not to say he's not interested, or not in love because he is and I can see it. But I can also see how it would affect me more if something were to happen. Hm. I tried so hard not to be in this position.



Last night he smelt like vanilla. No idea where it came from but it was really nice to just lie next to him and smell his neck whilst he slept. And making him scratch his nose in his sleep when I got bored.

Do you know whats really creepy? Bald, baby, mannequins. In fact, bald mannequins regardless of implied age, are just not cool. Walking to work either early in the morning or late at night, through the bullring, past all those glassy-eyed, bald, dressed up mannequins is giving me some seriously messed up dreams. I'm going to have to ask the partners I work with to meet me outside.


In other news, I probably wouldn't go to the Bullring in a zombie attack unless Ben/Jono/The Boy (who are my zombie fighting team at present, we each have our plans on what to collect on the way in, through the zombie infested streets) promised to gather all the mannequins together ASAP and burn them, or something. It's just too risky.

oh, woe is me, I have nothing interesting to talk about.