Ever since we adopted Daisy, our lovable puggle girl, we have been more observant of the other dog owners in our neighborhood, especially where those dogs and their owners come into contact with us. Most of them are wonderful folks whom we most likely would not meet and get to know, if not for our common love of dogs.
Then there are the idiots. One home in our neighborhood is home to 2 rather large breed dogs, what looks like a boxer and also some sort of St. Bernard mutt, who is really lovable looking, in a droopy eyed goofy sort of way. For the last 2 + years, we have not had any concerns at all about this home and the dogs living there. The owners are responsible young men who care wonderfully for these dogs. Take them for frequent walks, always on a leash and usually one of those leashes with the muzzle, although that never seemed necessary. I feel bad that these townhomes are so small for such large dogs, but otherwise, these are good folks.
But now they have a new roommate. A young woman who moved in with her beagle maybe a month ago. The beagle seems sweet enough, and I would probably let Daisy play with her once in a while if not for the fact that the woman who owns her is a complete and total moron. And I don't even mean a little bit stupid, I'm guessing she doesn't have 2 brain cells to rub together for warmth. Last night she was out walking all 3 dogs, but only one was on a leash, and that was the smallest one - the beagle. The other 2 were off leash (illegal in Montgomery County) who proceeded to accost the little puggle who wanted nothing more than to take her nice long evening walk with my hubby, do her business, and curl up for the night. Hubby warned this new neighbor last night if he saw them off leash again, he'd report her to our complex.
This afternoon I get home a bit early as I had a dental appointment and decided to do my 8 year old's chore for him and walk the dog. Daisy and I set off down the sidewalk and I notice the main door to the home where these 2 dogs live is open, but the outer storm door is closed. The 2 large dogs are sitting calmly inside just watching us walk by, so I didn't think anything of it, just kept on walking. One moment we were fine, the next moment both of these dogs had pushed open the door and were on their way toward us at top speed. I believe I yelled "No!", which was all I had time for before these 2 dogs were on top of little Daisy, who is all of 18 pounds, and had her down on the ground between them. I reached down and picked her up to head back toward our home and after that things get a bit hazy.
All I know for sure is I turned to walk back and the next thing I know I'm completely off balance with Daisy in my arms and then I'm down on the ground, screaming my fool head off "Get off my dog! Get off my dog!". All I can see from my vantage point flat on my face is two dogs who easily weigh between 50 and 80 pounds have Daisy pinned to the ground between them. I manage to push myself to my feet and pick her up to get her out of the way and start to walk again. By now the woman who lives in this home has come around the corner with her beagle and is walking toward us saying "Ma'am please stop and let me get them."
WTF? Are you serious? Stop and let them jump all over me and knock us down again? Yeah right. By this time I'm so pissed off I can't see straight and so scared I don't know where to put myself. I'm not sure which emotion was first - probably pissed off. I'll be more scared later tonight once my hubby gets home. Hell, by then I'll probably break down and sob like a 2 year old. But right now - still pissed.
I get Daisy inside and look her over. She's scared - tail between her legs - but thank God unharmed, just wet and filthy. I'm covered in scrapes, mud from all the rain today, some sort of seeds that fall out of the tree near the sidewalk and God help me, dog pee. I'm not sure which dog pissed on me at this point - probably Daisy. I sure as hell don't blame her. If I hadn't just used the bathroom before we went outside, I most likely would have pissed myself too.
Off Daisy and I go upstairs for a bath and shower, respectively. She's now clean, fluffed, well fed (including several treats) and asleep by my feet on the couch. I'm sure I'll pay for all those treats tomorrow when I have to pick up her poo, but for tonight, it's worth it.
Right now I'm trying to calm down and decide what to do. I really have no problem with the dogs down the street or their owners. As I mentioned above, we've lived here over 2 years with no problems. It wasn't until this twat moved in that all the problems began. And believe you me, she is one lucky woman that it was me walking Daisy and not my son. You cannot even begin to imagine the 7 levels of hell I would have visited upon her life if this had happened to the 8 year old. At this point I'm going to wait for the hubby to get home and then maybe the 2 of us will walk down and try to talk to the young men who have lived next door since we moved here. We honestly have no desire to stir up trouble with the neighbors, but this irresponsible behavior on the part of their roommate needs to end. Today.
/rant
Monday, April 20, 2009
Wednesday, April 8, 2009
All in all....
It's been a pretty good day. No major problems cropped up at work, although somehow or another our network time zone was switched from Eastern to Atlantic and messed up some routing overnight. Just exactly how that happened, no one will own up to; and why in the hell would it change to a time zone outside the continental US? Inquiring minds want to know.
The hubby has class on Wednesday nights, studying up for his 3rd Class Engineer's exam later this year, so the 8 year old and I have been hanging out watching TV. Right now we're watching the end of Jurassic Park. I will always have a soft spot in my heart for this movie. On our first date, Hubby and I went to dinner at the Olive Garden and then to the theater to see Jurassic Park. June 22, 1993.... and before you get all impressed with the size of my brain pan, the only reason why I remember that date is because we got married 1 year, 1 month and 1 day after that first date.
Our 15th anniversary is coming up this summer, any and all suggestions for a kick ass anniversary gift will be gratefully accepted.
The hubby has class on Wednesday nights, studying up for his 3rd Class Engineer's exam later this year, so the 8 year old and I have been hanging out watching TV. Right now we're watching the end of Jurassic Park. I will always have a soft spot in my heart for this movie. On our first date, Hubby and I went to dinner at the Olive Garden and then to the theater to see Jurassic Park. June 22, 1993.... and before you get all impressed with the size of my brain pan, the only reason why I remember that date is because we got married 1 year, 1 month and 1 day after that first date.
Our 15th anniversary is coming up this summer, any and all suggestions for a kick ass anniversary gift will be gratefully accepted.
Monday, April 6, 2009
Doctor's Billing Departments and other evil institutions
You know, today had been a pretty good day. Got a few things accomplished at work, nothing major came up to monopolize my time. I attended my first T'ai Chi class at lunch time, which was more enjoyable than I had thought (more on that in a moment) and I got to exchange several fun emails with my chat buddy Nicki. Even the commute home wasn't too painful. Picked up the 8 year old from day care with minimal fuss and made it home before 5:15. Not bad. Then I went to get the mail.
Now normally I really enjoy picking up my mail. It's like getting presents 6 days a week. You just never know what might be in that box! Even the bills aren't too bad, mainly because as a household we tend to live within our means and don't have trouble paying them. But oh ho, the surprises in store for me today!
I sorted the mail, threw out the junk and then set to opening what needs to be dealt with, mainly the bills. I started with a bill from my husband's orthopedic surgeon. Nearly 2 years ago he had surgery to repair a burst disc in his neck - can you say OUCH? He amazes me to this day with his ability to deal with the pain that he was in all day every day for 2 months leading up to that procedure. But the surgeon did an amazing job and he's completely healed today. In January he slipped and fell in our icy parking lot and broke his wrist in 2 places. He had it looked at by an ER doc who strongly recommended he have it seen by an ortho specialist.
Our first thoughts - let's go back to the doc who did such a great job on your neck! Great! Appointment was made and kept - more x-rays taken. Yep. It's broken. Time for a big 'ol itchy cast. Damn. We were hoping for a splint. But hey, it'll be fine in 6 weeks or so. This is a good doc! Then the hubby gets to the reception area to take care of his co-pay. Here's where the story gets fun.
Lo and behold, as of 1 January 2009, they are no longer participating with our insurance company! Excuse me? Say what? But not to worry, the doc wants to hang onto as many of those patients as possible, so he'll work to "take care of you". Well, at this point it's too damn late anyway. The treatment is done, the cast is on, we're in this for the long haul. But hello? Could someone have told hubby about this when he made the appointment? Oh, by the way, we don't accept your insurance anymore, are you sure you want to be seen? Or even a letter at the beginning of the year letting us know about the change in status.
But no, not a word until he had already been treated and we were on the hook for the bill. Assholes. But hey, I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the doctor really will take care of us. Hubby had been a patient for over a year.
That bubble was completely burst today when I opened that envelope. Please pay immediately, $1,146.45. WTF?! Seriously? OMFG! That is not "taking care of us", that's screwing us sideways for daring to walk in the door without an accepted insurance plan. Holy Jesus Christ on a Stick! Unfortunately, we're pretty sure we have absolutely no recourse in this. We do have an annual deductible we need to meet before our insurance will cover out of network doctors at their promised 80%. But hubby will make some phone calls tomorrow anyway. I'm not holding out much hope. Again....assholes!
I called hubby to vent for a bit, but probably should have just saved it until he gets home from work, because now he's all stirred up too. Meh, misery loves company.
Right about now I'm contemplating trying out the warm up and relaxation techniques I learned in T'ai Chi earlier today. I think I need them. I know I need them. Which brings me back to T'ai Chi. I think this class is going to be really good for me. I need to find ways to reduce my stress (who doesn't right?) and this seems like a good way to do it. Up until now I've trained in 4 different styles of martial arts: ATA Tae Kwon Do, Traditional WTF Tae Kwon Do, Shorin Ryu Karate, and a free style Karate / Tae Kwon Do the whole family is currently studying. All together, I have about 5 years of martial arts training, even making it to 1st Degree Black Belt in ATA Tae Kwon Do. But don't ask me to do anything more advanced that a side or front kick, as that was nearly 6 years ago.
T'ai Chi is opposite of all those styles. Where they focus on speed and short, powerful punches and kicks, T'ai Chi focuses on flowing, fluid movements and softness that ultimately builds to a fair amount of power, but in a totally different way. I'm looking forward to balancing my martial arts training with this new addition and hope to learn how to relax and flow, both in body and mind.
I still need to blog about the 17th C. artifacts and remains son and I saw at the Museum of Natural History last month. Maybe tomorrow. Right now I need to find my happy place.
Now normally I really enjoy picking up my mail. It's like getting presents 6 days a week. You just never know what might be in that box! Even the bills aren't too bad, mainly because as a household we tend to live within our means and don't have trouble paying them. But oh ho, the surprises in store for me today!
I sorted the mail, threw out the junk and then set to opening what needs to be dealt with, mainly the bills. I started with a bill from my husband's orthopedic surgeon. Nearly 2 years ago he had surgery to repair a burst disc in his neck - can you say OUCH? He amazes me to this day with his ability to deal with the pain that he was in all day every day for 2 months leading up to that procedure. But the surgeon did an amazing job and he's completely healed today. In January he slipped and fell in our icy parking lot and broke his wrist in 2 places. He had it looked at by an ER doc who strongly recommended he have it seen by an ortho specialist.
Our first thoughts - let's go back to the doc who did such a great job on your neck! Great! Appointment was made and kept - more x-rays taken. Yep. It's broken. Time for a big 'ol itchy cast. Damn. We were hoping for a splint. But hey, it'll be fine in 6 weeks or so. This is a good doc! Then the hubby gets to the reception area to take care of his co-pay. Here's where the story gets fun.
Lo and behold, as of 1 January 2009, they are no longer participating with our insurance company! Excuse me? Say what? But not to worry, the doc wants to hang onto as many of those patients as possible, so he'll work to "take care of you". Well, at this point it's too damn late anyway. The treatment is done, the cast is on, we're in this for the long haul. But hello? Could someone have told hubby about this when he made the appointment? Oh, by the way, we don't accept your insurance anymore, are you sure you want to be seen? Or even a letter at the beginning of the year letting us know about the change in status.
But no, not a word until he had already been treated and we were on the hook for the bill. Assholes. But hey, I was willing to give them the benefit of the doubt. Maybe the doctor really will take care of us. Hubby had been a patient for over a year.
That bubble was completely burst today when I opened that envelope. Please pay immediately, $1,146.45. WTF?! Seriously? OMFG! That is not "taking care of us", that's screwing us sideways for daring to walk in the door without an accepted insurance plan. Holy Jesus Christ on a Stick! Unfortunately, we're pretty sure we have absolutely no recourse in this. We do have an annual deductible we need to meet before our insurance will cover out of network doctors at their promised 80%. But hubby will make some phone calls tomorrow anyway. I'm not holding out much hope. Again....assholes!
I called hubby to vent for a bit, but probably should have just saved it until he gets home from work, because now he's all stirred up too. Meh, misery loves company.
Right about now I'm contemplating trying out the warm up and relaxation techniques I learned in T'ai Chi earlier today. I think I need them. I know I need them. Which brings me back to T'ai Chi. I think this class is going to be really good for me. I need to find ways to reduce my stress (who doesn't right?) and this seems like a good way to do it. Up until now I've trained in 4 different styles of martial arts: ATA Tae Kwon Do, Traditional WTF Tae Kwon Do, Shorin Ryu Karate, and a free style Karate / Tae Kwon Do the whole family is currently studying. All together, I have about 5 years of martial arts training, even making it to 1st Degree Black Belt in ATA Tae Kwon Do. But don't ask me to do anything more advanced that a side or front kick, as that was nearly 6 years ago.
T'ai Chi is opposite of all those styles. Where they focus on speed and short, powerful punches and kicks, T'ai Chi focuses on flowing, fluid movements and softness that ultimately builds to a fair amount of power, but in a totally different way. I'm looking forward to balancing my martial arts training with this new addition and hope to learn how to relax and flow, both in body and mind.
I still need to blog about the 17th C. artifacts and remains son and I saw at the Museum of Natural History last month. Maybe tomorrow. Right now I need to find my happy place.
Saturday, April 4, 2009
Musings on a Saturday evening
I am just home from an evening excursion to Dairy Queen, a reward to my 8 year old for having a great week behavior wise at school. He has some trouble keeping his mouth shut (shocking I know, coming from a spawn of mine) and this week was unusually good for him, hence the ice cream reward.
After our indulgence, we headed to run a couple of errands and on the drive over stopped for a red light. On the corner was a group of young girls, my guess is somewhere between 16 and 20 or 21 years old. I'm really not sure, I have such a hard time judging ages. And who can tell these days? Girls 12 or 13 dress and behave like they are in their 20's. What are their mothers thinking? Anyway, these otherwise well dressed and attractive group of 4 or 5 young women were, I shit you not, standing on the corner smoking cigars and hocking loogies into the street every few seconds.
Isn't it bad enough that some men behave in this fashion, but do we really need our young women to do the same? I was shaking my head as we pulled through the intersection and blessedly away from the spectacle on the corner.
Earlier this afternoon we decided to forge ahead into uncharted territory. Giving the newly adopted Puggle, Daisy, a bath. I honestly had no idea what to expect from her once we finally coaxed her into the bathroom. Her first bath and grooming was done at Petsmart - which by the way, save your money and give your dogs a bath yourself. They did a lousy job - the dog smelled sour for 3 days afterwards. But I digress. I was more than a bit worried that she would get into the tub, see the cup of water coming at her and freak out. The scene in my head involved a full cup of water all over me and the floor, and a dog leaping out of the tub to land on my chest with all four paws. Despite my trepidation, I decided the 8 year old and I could probably handle it and plunged ahead with Operation Wash Daisy.
After just a bit of gentle encouragement, the Puggle was in the tub and getting scrubbed. She didn't seem to be freaked out by the process at all and other than wiggling and shaking like a loon the instant she was out of the tub and out of my hands, she was an angel during the entire process. Which caused me to wonder, for the 1000th time, why anyone would give up such a beautiful and well behaved dog.
Daisy has the sweetest demeanor and face you'll ever see. 18 pounds of lovin', she's been a wonderful addition to our little family. Freckles on her nose with a white mask and white paws, she's just adorable and for a moment (and believe me it was ever so brief, I'm not stupid) I wished she hadn't been spayed so we could breed her. Then rationality took over and I thought about all the work and gross crap that comes with whelping pups. Ah, yeah.....nevermind.
So now we have a clean, if somewhat irritated, Puggle. I am glad to report I was able to keep her from rolling in the mud the first chance she got. It involved several scolds and a couple of hard tugs on her harness, but for now she's still clean 5 hours later. Wonder how long that will last? My guess is, not nearly long enough. Meh.
One of these days soon I really need to blog about Archaeology - a topic I majored in while at the University of Iowa, but a field in which I will most likely never work. Ever since reading a National Geographic which featured an article about the ruins at Pompeii, I've been hooked. My son and I recently visited the Museum of Natural History here in DC and saw a great exhibit of archaeological remains dated to the 17th Century in Jamestown Virginia and St. Mary's City Maryland. Maybe next blog entry, eh?
After our indulgence, we headed to run a couple of errands and on the drive over stopped for a red light. On the corner was a group of young girls, my guess is somewhere between 16 and 20 or 21 years old. I'm really not sure, I have such a hard time judging ages. And who can tell these days? Girls 12 or 13 dress and behave like they are in their 20's. What are their mothers thinking? Anyway, these otherwise well dressed and attractive group of 4 or 5 young women were, I shit you not, standing on the corner smoking cigars and hocking loogies into the street every few seconds.
Isn't it bad enough that some men behave in this fashion, but do we really need our young women to do the same? I was shaking my head as we pulled through the intersection and blessedly away from the spectacle on the corner.
Earlier this afternoon we decided to forge ahead into uncharted territory. Giving the newly adopted Puggle, Daisy, a bath. I honestly had no idea what to expect from her once we finally coaxed her into the bathroom. Her first bath and grooming was done at Petsmart - which by the way, save your money and give your dogs a bath yourself. They did a lousy job - the dog smelled sour for 3 days afterwards. But I digress. I was more than a bit worried that she would get into the tub, see the cup of water coming at her and freak out. The scene in my head involved a full cup of water all over me and the floor, and a dog leaping out of the tub to land on my chest with all four paws. Despite my trepidation, I decided the 8 year old and I could probably handle it and plunged ahead with Operation Wash Daisy.
After just a bit of gentle encouragement, the Puggle was in the tub and getting scrubbed. She didn't seem to be freaked out by the process at all and other than wiggling and shaking like a loon the instant she was out of the tub and out of my hands, she was an angel during the entire process. Which caused me to wonder, for the 1000th time, why anyone would give up such a beautiful and well behaved dog.
Daisy has the sweetest demeanor and face you'll ever see. 18 pounds of lovin', she's been a wonderful addition to our little family. Freckles on her nose with a white mask and white paws, she's just adorable and for a moment (and believe me it was ever so brief, I'm not stupid) I wished she hadn't been spayed so we could breed her. Then rationality took over and I thought about all the work and gross crap that comes with whelping pups. Ah, yeah.....nevermind.
So now we have a clean, if somewhat irritated, Puggle. I am glad to report I was able to keep her from rolling in the mud the first chance she got. It involved several scolds and a couple of hard tugs on her harness, but for now she's still clean 5 hours later. Wonder how long that will last? My guess is, not nearly long enough. Meh.
One of these days soon I really need to blog about Archaeology - a topic I majored in while at the University of Iowa, but a field in which I will most likely never work. Ever since reading a National Geographic which featured an article about the ruins at Pompeii, I've been hooked. My son and I recently visited the Museum of Natural History here in DC and saw a great exhibit of archaeological remains dated to the 17th Century in Jamestown Virginia and St. Mary's City Maryland. Maybe next blog entry, eh?
Friday, April 3, 2009
Wow, first blog post.....
So, I really have no idea what I'm supposed to do with this blog thing now that I have it. But this seemed like more my style than twitter, 'cuz I generally have WAY more to say than can be covered in 140 characters. I mean, honestly? Who can communicate anything coherent in 140 characters? Of course, now that I've said that, one of these days someone (probably Nicki, she hooked me on "crack-book") will hook me on Twitter and I'll be tweeting and twittering with the rest of the world out there. I'm sorry, I can't take anything that sounds so much like 'twat' all that seriously.
Really.
I suppose I'll start with the news that came out of Iowa today. Holy shit on a steek! They did it! One of the most conservative states in the union and they actually legalized gay marriage! Go Hawkeyes! For those of you who don't know, I lived in Iowa for just over 9 years. A more Republican state you will never find, with the exception of this past election when it actually went Blue. Grant Wood is probably turning over in his grave.
I now live with hubby and son in the suburbs of Washington DC. As much as I miss all of my crimson nape friends back west, I must say I do love it here. The museums, the diversity, the ability to get on the beltway and be on the banks of the Potomac inside of 40 minutes. Except during rush hour when it can take 3 days. (Ok, I'm exaggerating, but only slightly! Ask anyone who's had to deal with 270, 66, 395, 95, or The Beltway the day after Labor Day - people go into that traffic mess and never come out. I swear.)
It's 10:30 pm on a Friday night and I'm actually contemplating bed.....when did this happen? I used to be able to stay up until 3 am, sleep for a few hours, get up, work a full shift in a sweaty kitchen or waiting tables, go out drinking with friends and still have energy enough left over for sweaty sex with my hubby when we finally got back home. Whoever turned me into an adult, put me back! Put. Me. Back.
Really.
I suppose I'll start with the news that came out of Iowa today. Holy shit on a steek! They did it! One of the most conservative states in the union and they actually legalized gay marriage! Go Hawkeyes! For those of you who don't know, I lived in Iowa for just over 9 years. A more Republican state you will never find, with the exception of this past election when it actually went Blue. Grant Wood is probably turning over in his grave.
I now live with hubby and son in the suburbs of Washington DC. As much as I miss all of my crimson nape friends back west, I must say I do love it here. The museums, the diversity, the ability to get on the beltway and be on the banks of the Potomac inside of 40 minutes. Except during rush hour when it can take 3 days. (Ok, I'm exaggerating, but only slightly! Ask anyone who's had to deal with 270, 66, 395, 95, or The Beltway the day after Labor Day - people go into that traffic mess and never come out. I swear.)
It's 10:30 pm on a Friday night and I'm actually contemplating bed.....when did this happen? I used to be able to stay up until 3 am, sleep for a few hours, get up, work a full shift in a sweaty kitchen or waiting tables, go out drinking with friends and still have energy enough left over for sweaty sex with my hubby when we finally got back home. Whoever turned me into an adult, put me back! Put. Me. Back.
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