Last Saturday as I was returning home with Bailey after a relaxing afternoon in the park, I passed by a house that I knew was occupied by an elderly lady.  On occasion I would see her outside working in the yard or sweeping the garage floor (which was spotless by the way).  As I got closer I heard what sounded like a smoke or perhaps a carbon monoxide alarm coming from the house.  My first thought was to call dispatch and have them send an engine just to check it out.  Then I thought, this is silly.  Not that having someone check on her wasn't a good idea but that it was the easy way out.  I could see through the screen door that the front door was open.  My next thought was how this was the "new way" of doing things.  Don't get personally involved, don't expend too much effort, just call someone else.  They'll take care of it right?  So instead of calling I walked up the curvy sidewalk and rang the doorbell.  This felt unnatural which again, is wrong.  I feel like the days of friendly and neighborly actions are gone but hey, that's just me.  I heard her voice say, "Hello?  Where are you?  Hello?  Hello???".  I was relieved but also concerned.  I called out to her, "Hello?  I'm at the front door!".  I heard her shuffling to the door from somewhere in the house while muttering something about the alarm.  When she made it to the door I saw an elderly and kind-faced woman with a little band-aid on her chin and she had a confused look on her face - but also one of relief.  As she opened the door I said, "I was just walking by and I heard an alarm coming from your house.  Are you ok?  It sounds like the smoke alarm is going off."  As she smiled and thanked me I got a whiff of what smelled like burnt something...hard to place but definitely, well, burnt.  She then said softly, "Aren't you so sweet.  I can't get this darn alarm to shut off!  Are you an angel??" as her eyes softened.  Instantly my hesitancy of actually ringing on the doorbell rather than call and walk on by was erased and I felt, well, I felt just plain good.  I had done the right thing.  She had instantly rewarded me with kindness and thankfulness that truthfully I wasn't expecting.  I still had Bailey on her leash and she was quite eager to greet our new friend and make herself right at home.  She invited me inside to look at the alarm so I told her I would tie Bailey's leash to the handrail and that she would be just fine there.  Her response: "Of course not, she's welcome!  She can explorer the house, I don't mind at atll!".  Apparently Bailey had made a friend...  She explained that the smoke had come from a pot of water on the stove that she was boiling for tea.  She had lied down to rest on the bed and fell asleep to which my brain replied, "Yikes".  The pot was still in the sink and still steaming.  That's right, stilllll steaming.  I'm pretty sure she could have been smelting copper in that thing and it was in no mood to cool down anytime soon.  It had a non-stick coating, emphasis on had.  Well to make a short story long and then short again I'll just say that I didn't leave her house for about an hour.  I helped her reset the alarm which was connected to her Life Alert monitor and scolded her for not wearing her pendant (a little button on a neck-strap for emergencies) and talked to the Life Alert dispatcher to assure them the we did not in face need the fire department.  I then learned the following:

Act of Valor
One of those movies where you know going into it you are going to be inspired.  It didn't disappoint.  Active-duty Navy SEALs combined with scenes that are based on real life events are the recipe for an emotional albeit predictable movie that made me walk out of the theater with nothing to say.  I'd like to come up with a clever, witty response but I just can't.  True patriotism and a feeling of gratitude for our soldiers.  Go see it.  

Wanderlust

So-so movie at best but my fiance Jennifer was fantastic, as usual.  Way to go Jen!  

Thoughts while walking to my car:

• "Wow, that was a lot of male frontal nudity."
• "Alan Alda looks pretty old now."
• "Wow, that was a lot of male frontal nudity."

Coffee shops.

People watching is an art form and one that I consider one of my specialties.  That being said, coffee shops are exquisite.  For someone who has a closet case of social anxiety, it's a wonderful vacation from reality and not unlike going to see a movie.  Currently I have my headphones on and am listening to Zooey Deschanel sing It's So Easy.  She's not the greatest singer but she is just so darn cute it more than makes up for it.  But I digress.  The headphones create a barrier or a cloak protecting me from interactions because as passers by can clearly see, I'm terribly busy doing something.  An occasional smile may be exchanged but for the most part, I'm invisible right now.  Alone with my thoughts and observations which, often times, are peppered with condescending and sarcastic judgement.  Most likely, there is someone else in this very coffee shop (gasp) who is doing the very same thing.  To me.  Right now.  This is what drives my social anxiety - a fear of my image being graded and judged and studied just as I am doing to other people.  Right now.  I figure if I'm doing it, everyone else is too right?  Unless I'm...different.  Strange or, um, weird.  Oh self esteem, how you are so easily shaped by life.  Some are more resilient or immune than others it seems.  I for one am not.  Sigh.

I wish I had discovered hooded sweatshirts earlier in life.

I wish I were in better shape.

I wish my dog would stop farting.

I wish making friends was as easy as making mistakes.

This is one of my favorite YouTube videos right now and I don't know why I keep watching it.  Each time it makes me jealous and angry and bitter and depressed and inspired all at the same. time.  Jealous obviously because he's able to make a living doing this.  Angry because this isn't me.  Bitter because it realistically never will be.  Depressed = re-read the previous sentence.  Inspired because it's an awesome idea that has really turned into something bigger than was probably ever expected.

Things I can do right now to change my jealous-angry-bitter-depressed-inspired position:

• Win the lottery (although I don't play it so that's probably not the best option).
• Become a groupie (although I don't think he wants one of those). 
• Take a shower and get out of the house because dwelling on this isn't helping much.

There you have it.  Inspirational blog post of the day!

Interesting date isn't it?  Some people are saying how today will be a "lucky day" and how good things are supposed to happen - momentous things.  For me today is the first day my dog doesn't have a tumor in her chest.  That is definitely a good day by my definition.  On Wednesday, a lump in her chest was determined to be a mast cell tumor which according to my vet needed to come out as soon as possible.  I said, how about tomorrow morning!  Tomorrow morning I took her for our last morning walk carrying that damn tumor in her chest and then dropped her off for an emotional even for both of us.  I got her home last night night after a surgery which the vet said went well.  The tissue mass gets sent to a pathology lab in Denver over the weekend and Monday I should find out if they got all of the cancerous cells out or not.  My thoughts on that matter can be summed by with the mantra, Oh please oh please oh please oh please..., (etc.).  So after a very rough night with a very unhappy doggie, she is now napping and I'm trying to take full breaths.  Cancer sure does suck.

Throat lined with sandpaper although I don't recall eating any recently.
Tonsils the size (approximately) of ripe cantaloupes.
Eyes burning.
Head hurting.
Whining mode fully functional.

I love Goodwill.  There's just something about the rush that comes with finding a hidden gem hidden within a forest of used speedos and blue jeans suspiciously missing the crotch.

Another reason I love Goodwill is for the people watching.  Now I want to get something straight right from the beginning.  I'm not better than anyone who shops at Goodwill.  We are all there for the same reasons - searching for something we want at a good price. That being said, there is a very unique clientele that frequents thrift stores.  If you've ever been to one, an explanation isn't necessary.  

So I'm casually browsing the sweaters (which are in no particular arrangement whatsoever).  I hear a male's voice say,
   <him> "Excuse me sir?".  
   <me>   "Yes?"
   <him>  "Can you help me?"
   <me>   "Sure."  -suspiciously...-
   <him>  "How much is 50% of $4.99?"
   <me>   "Well, it's about half of $5 so basically $2.50..."
   <him>  "$2.50 huh... So that's a pretty good deal right?"
   <me>   -wondering what the 'good deal' is on... "Definitely!"
   <him>  "Thanks.  It's becoming Wintertime and I need to get prepared."
   <me>   "Definitely.  I think it's coming whether we like it or not!"

Now, my honest reaction at first was shock and sadness.  This gentleman was well dressed and well-spoken, seemed to be pretty put together and yet he couldn't calculate what 50% of $4.99 would be.  Then my thoughts turned to, "Big deal.  so he's not good at math or calculating percentages."  However..half of 5?  Really?  

I went about my way perusing the mixture of sweaters that would make Bill Cosby giddy as a school girl but I couldn't get the exchange I had just had with this man out of my head.  I was pleased with myself as far as my demeanor and how I handled it outwardly. Friendly, unabashed and certainly not judgmental by his lack of basic arithmetic skills.  

But here's the thing.  We as a society have failed him.  We have not adequately prepared him for life.  Right now you are rolling your eyes right?  You are thinking to yourself, "Who the hell is this guy?  How 'brilliant' he is, how insightful!"  I claim none of those things.  I just think it's sad how this really nice guy at Goodwill couldn't figure out what half of 5 is.  That's all.
   < 

I live in Ft. Collins, CO and have been here since the Fall of 2005.  I love the town and the area though I do miss certain aspects of my hometown.  One of the great things about Ft. Collins is how "bike friendly" the town is.  By the way, I don't own a bike.