A Friday Confession

And just like that, it’s Friday.  Thank the goodness.

This week has been a wonky one, because most of us here at the shelter had to work last weekend. We held a mega adopt-a-thon last Saturday/Sunday and GUESS WHAT!? Our 4 Sacramento area shelters adopted out the most animals in the country! 525 to be exact.

Murphy is very excited.


So it’s been a little inconsistent over here. If you’re new to the blog, just get used to it. I never win best-blogger-award so don’t even try to nominate me 😉

I do however; have a Friday confession for you…

Last weekends’ ½ marathon was a tough one. We were not prepared to run the last 6 miles of hills, and since we didn’t train very well, it made it even tougher. I managed to run a 2 hour (and 1 minute!) which was about a 9:15/mile. Not as great as my last one, but also not too shabby. After being ridiculously sore for 3 days after, I realized I need to move on to something a little more…relaxing. I needed to not feel 80 years old. I looked around at the other runners; I did not see anyone else wearing running knee braces. I’m 27 years old for crying out loud! So I did something I swore I’d never do, I joined the yoga phenomenon.  

I walked into a nearby studio with running shoes on (hello amateur) rolled out my yoga mat which still had mud tracks from an outdoor boot camp (*crickets*) and Vinyasa flow-ed all over that 85 degree room.

One of my favorite people in the world, Megan, is a yoga instructor and English teacher in South Korea. She is zen and tranquil and all sorts of spiritual awareness. When she visits, she usually has to drag me to these classes and puts up with my lack of enthusiasm. I usually toss around hateful words like “petri dish of germs” and she lovingly puts up with me, nods her head and mumbles a “Namaste” in my direction.

I can’t say I’m 100% sold, but Groupon continues to sway me with its killer deals, and the cheap-skate in me can’t really turn down an unlimited month of yoga at the low, low rate of $22.

I am by far the less flexible person in a room full of human pretzels and am convinced that the woman who stands on her head is slipping something into her tea– but until late November I am determined to try this whole ‘find your zen’ thing on for size.


It’s kind of like “reaching for the stars” with trying something new, expect my goal is to just try and touch my damn toes. Baby steps people, baby steps.

What are you all going to be for Halloween? I tried to give Murphy a little flare this year but he was not having it. Shame.



Training…we meet again

You’re never too old to realize how crazy you are. (Or you’re never too young? Can’t decide)

Murphy has a new kind of crazy every day. His new thing is following me when I leave my office. Yes, my dog gate is slightly broken and yes, sometimes I just choose not to close it, giving him more than enough freedom to waltz around like he owns the place.

Tuesday AM weekly meetings in the boss’s office…”step aside, can’t be late!” He not only opens my gate, but he has also learned how to maneuver hers, and yes…everyone makes room.

Happenstance, end up in a co-worker’s office to chat about a big work event? “Don’t mind me, I’m just going to sit here in this very small basket designed to hold petite, small things.”


See?  There is more than enough room on the crazy train.

Walker and I signed up for the second half-marathon of the year, the Folsom Blues Half.  In some countries this qualifies you as having run an entire marathon….err…something.


Shamrock’n Half-Marathon (March 2013)

Either way, I’ve gone-done impressed myself that I honestly think I can do this again. Walker of course helps boost my ego when I question why???? Training January-March was pretty enjoyable. But August- October? Helllloooo Sacramento.

We ran the first big run (6-miles) over the weekend and it went OK. A mixture between terrible and OK. But that’s fair! I haven’t run farther than 4-miles since March so I’d say that’s quite the accomplishment. A mere 7-miler on the books for this Saturday. Wahhhhh.

Ever thought about running a half-marathon?

Here is my 9-week training schedule in case you’re curious:

Saturdays are the long days. This means say goodbye to Friday night and hello to one hungry-girl Saturday/Sunday.  I think I ate an entire loaf of bread between Saturday and Sunday. Eat your heart out caveman!

So you start with 6 miles and work your way up to 12.  (That’s 7 Saturdays total, with one break before the race.) The run is October 19 which is PERFECT timing because I’m in a wedding October 12 and plan on dancing and running to the bar and that’s about it as far as physical exertion goes.

So what do you do during the week?

It’s good to fit at least a 4 or 5-miler in at some point…just so your legs remember who is boss. And if you can squeeze in a boot camp or yoga class that’s a winning combo!

My goal this time is to stretch more so I don’t feel like a jelly donut for a week after. And of course, to PR (personal record and yes it’s a verb. “To PR” Google it!)… Because if I can’t race the guy next to me I sure as hell better race myself!

So what new, fun, crazy, things are you enjoying lately?

Fun Facts Friday

There’s just something about Fridays that make people so darn happy. Is it the anticipation for 2 days off work? I sometimes look forward to the anticipation more than the actual reward. Funny, no?

*I’ll tell you in advance I have no idea where this blog post is headed. I just felt this sense of urgency to update you on my day.

> Walker and I are headed to Tahoe for a co-bachelor/bachelorette party! The couple is good friends of his and new friends of mine. It’ll be my first one and I’m curious to see how this all pans out. I’ve been to a handful of bachelorette parties, and I must say I’m looking forward to a cabin full of fun people who aren’t interested in strippers and penis whistles. Just hand me a mimosa on arrival and lead me to where the Scrabble is set up. Love me some cabin fever. Bring. It. #NanaInTraining

> On the heels of me curled up in sweats and badgering people into playing board games with me (clearly you’re excited to travel with me someday. I don’t blame you!) … I also have to play along with this being a themed party. Saturday night is a Mad Men theme which means that because I work in an animal shelter and wear jeans and kicks to work, I must resort to my secretary/librarian stash of clothing from the waaaay back of the closet.

If you hear of a random blonde wandering the streets of Tahoe, asking for people’s warm clothes and dressed like she just stepped out of a time machine, don’t panic. The meds will kick in. Her boyfriend is somewhere nearby.


> Remember how I told you Murphy hates weekends? Welp, this would be why. “She’s leaving agaaaain!?”
Poor Smerf has to spend the weekend at the big, bad, terrible grandparents house where he gets twice the lovin’ and off-leash walks by the river. Boo hoo. Poor guy can’t help how much he loves me (you would too, just try it!)

> In other random news, Murphy has an outie belly button. And YES dogs have belly buttons! Roomie and I weren’t quite sure, but according to Google (Greek for “everything we say is absolutely 100% fact”) they are born with umbilical cords and therefore have scars. Murphy would appreciate you don’t ask for a photo, he is a classy gentleman after all.

oh murph

err…moving on


> Have a wonderful weekend and let’s try to spread the love a little, shall we?


Musings from Murphy

Oh hi…remember me? The girl who writes and leaves. I’m like, one of those dine & dashers, with no tip…who does that!?

2013 will be the year for blogging! Hoping so anyways. I miss writing, it’s ironic that I’m not more consistent with it.

Thought I’d help lighten things up with some Musings from Murphy, afterall he is the star of the show. He made a couple of New Year’s Resolutions that he’d like to share with help from yours truly:

1. Do what you love…more!

Do What you love

2. See the world


3. Don’t be afraid to get up close and personal


4. Be more productive at work


5. Visit my “Happy Place”


6. Reeeeelax


7. Don’t give away your Superman secret-identity… (oops)


8. When all else fails:
Keep Calm & Love Your Wubba


Wishing you and yours a happy jumpstart into the New Year!

A bowl, a leash and a girl

Hello Blogging World. I’ve missed you!

I apologize for my sudden drop-off. I’ve had a combination of blogging-content-drought AND I’m in the process of packing, moving and unpacking. It’s a bad combination; I don’t recommend.

Moving is the pits. Seriously. All this nonsense about ‘cleansing’ and ‘redecorating’ is a bunch of phooey- I’d rather have the moving fairies come and do it all. In my opinion, that’s what money is for. To pay fairies to do things for you  😀

However…the outcome of a move (in this instance) is an upgrade on life! A HOUSE vs a studio, and a BACKYARD with a DOG DOOR vs a “leash up your dog in the your PJs with your hair in a mess” to let him outside. HOORAY!

Packing got me thinking about how, despite it being terrible, it could be worse. I could have four kids and a lazy husband who all have their fair share of CRAP but are useless in helping. It’s amazing how much stuff we accumulate over time. I’m not a clutter person or a keeper/collector. But I have to admit, Home Girl has a LOT of stuff.

Murphy doesn’t come with much, but he still has his fair share of necessary items. Dog bed, toys, bowls, 40lb bag of food, etc. I looked at him and said “Strap on the donkey cart Murph, it’s time to move.” You should have seen the way he looked at me. I can just feel the judgment.

Why do you have all this crap blondie? Picture frames and candles and a dozen wine glasses? When was the last time you actually USED one?”

**Flashback to a night of packing when I had loaded all the “fine china” in a box, but decided it was time for a glass of vino to keep my spirits up. I may or may not have used a mug to sip from… And Murphy may or may not have decided he loved me all the same. Sheesh! Tough crowd.

But I digress…

Got me thinking. Murphy’s needs are so simple:

A bowl of food, a bowl for water, a leash, a Wubba and me. No crazy matching pillows, no memory box full of pictures. Nothing that keeps him distracted from what he desires most. I envy him a little bit.  And come to think of it…I suddenly feel the need to stop unpacking….throw everything out on the lawn…make up a quick sign saying:


…..Annnnd I’m kidding 🙂

You Know You’re a Bad Person When…

…You’re hoping for an accident.

Ohhhhh you know what I mean. You’ve been there. Don’t tell me that when you’re stuck on the freeway that has suddenly become a parking lot…that you don’t start looking for carnage. You’re frustrated, straining your neck, looking to rubber neck as soon as you have the opportunity…but nothing.
And after countless minutes of stop and go, you finally pick up to a speed that doesn’t give you a foot cramp….and, wait…..nothing!? What?!
I don’t need bodies in the road I just need a couple skid marks! Heck, it could even be an abandoned chair sitting on the center-divide; I just need something that justifies that I’ll never get that lost time back.

Can you tell I despise traffic?

These are what I like to call “First World Problems.” And no, I didn’t make the phrase up although I wish I HAD! I stole it from Kate, a friend of mine who currently left me for Pittsburg, but has always been a big supporter of my blogging antics. Other “First World Problems:”

–       Seeds in your fruit

–       A hole in your dog poop bag

–       Soy milk curdling in hot coffee

–       Lines

I HATE lines. Between traffic and lines you’re probably thinking that I’m a pretty impatient person.

“They say patience is a virtue. Why can’t Hurry the F*%! up be a virtue?!” ~ Anonymous

BAHA!  Agreed.

I’m one of those people that can’t relax until the sun is down. Daylight = productivity.
Not to mention its sort of FUN seeing how many things you can get done in one day. The downside is you tend to get really frazzled and also very distracted. For instance, on my way to the kitchen to make dinner, I figure I should probably pick up Murphy’s toys only to find that there are dust-doggies the size of Murphy hidden under the couch. That makes me then start to pick it up and wonder HOW he possibly has any hair left. Well then I’ve got to throw it away, BUT en route to the bathroom I realize, damn, the single-solitary house plant needs about a week’s worth of water, which puts me in the bathroom to then see that THAT needs cleaning and I finally have to just pull myself away and go eat something because CLEARLY I will need sustenance to continue the rest of the day with my crazy self.

That kids’ book “When you give a mouse a cookie” comes to mind.

The funniest part is Murphy follows me around like a shadow. So between the TWO of us, we’re like a flipping side-show act. I’m just waiting for Bravo TV to show up and offer me a contract for my own reality show. Hey, if it sucks they can play it at night-time with all the other boring shows to help people fall asleep!

Question: What are some of your “First World Problems?” Leave a comment here!

A Little Perspective

Our first week together back in January 2011. He knows who loves him already!

I’m starting to realize that trying to gain perspective is like chasing your tail…round and round you go. And catching up to it is sort of like hindsight; turns out that while you thought you had an inkling of an idea, you’re actually just back at the beginning.

And then there is the life of a dog.

Murphy has a pretty clear understanding of his purpose in life: Eat, sleep, walk, take care of business, (have mom take care of said ‘business’), and basically watch my every move to make sure that he isn’t missing any cues. I guess I should emphasize that it’s one thing to have a loyal dog; it’s another to have a loyal Border Collie. His breed is bred to pick a human, imprint on them and make him/her their whole life. Seriously. We’re talking the Alpha, Omega, Beginning and End. Unless he is sleeping, he is watching. He’s like Santa but without the presents.
And yet so cute! (Once you get past the creepy factor…)

I’ve heard it said that some people, in a way, envy the dead because they have all the answers. I think this is true whether you believe Heaven is awaiting you or not. But until then, it feels so unfair that life is so uncertain.

As kids all we want to do is grow up. And then we do, and we just miss the days of sticky popsicle faces and long, lazy, summers.  I remember feeling like my problems at the time were so huge. Sometimes I think about what it would be like to have a child of my own, and what it will feel like to just want to baby-shake them (for lack of a better word) so they’ll get a sense of reality. To make them realize that this will pass, that this is “nothing.”  But it’s not fair for us as adults, after years of self-therapy and learning moments, to tease and laughingly call them “problems” when at that age they are everything…. that’s what perspective does. It lets you think you’re in charge and then it kicks you from behind when you least expect it.

It’s been a whole month since my sixteen-year-old ‘cousin’ Logan took his life. And now everyone is left thinking that just thirty-one days we could have said something  life-changing, inspirational, or even funny… something that would have made him think twice, change his mind, or decide there was another option. Until the end of time, I will never understand how a sixteen-year-old can feel that his world is so dark and cloudy, that there is no hope for sunshine.

And while I tease Murphy for being so obsessive, I wonder if he has it all figured out. Understand that life is going to happen all around you. Focus. Find something you just can’t live without and let the whole world know it’s yours.

“If there is ever a day when we can’t be together. Keep me in your heart. I’ll stay there forever.” ~ Winnie the Pooh

You and Me and Murphy Makes Three

I’ve recently jumped ship from a blog about single life, to more of a lifestyle blog about my life (sans style), with a dog and a boy. I thought I had quite the niche going with me going on and on about my insecurities and never ending stories of jerks being jerks…turns out God had a different plan for me, and I’d like to give him credit.

I had a minor life crisis in reconstructing a blog that I had just started to get knee-deep into. I had to sit and ask myself (literally), what is it about writing that is therapeutic for me? The answer lies somewhere in the freedom to write, erase, type, delete and construct something that feels spontaneous but in actuality took quite a bit of preparation. You see, most of us in person are crappy at saying the right things at the right time. But in writing…you’re “write” all the time. Get it?

I read somewhere recently that most lifestyle blogs are run by stay-at-home moms with time/energy and most importantly, money, to feature beautiful photos of homemade jam and holiday knick-knacks. I am not one of these people…yet.

In the meantime I think you, reader, might instead enjoy the random goings-on inside the head of a seemingly put-together girl with a crazy dog and wonderfully goofy boyfriend.

And because life is not perfect…this blog will not school you on how to perfectly tie your apron or make you feel bad for not understanding why homemade pie crust beats the store-bought kind. I do not bash these people, I instead envy them. Especially on those rare days where I get to sleep in and wake up slowly to coffee; I dream about what it would be like to be one of those people.

Until then…I’m working on balancing a life that will continue to make me smile until I’m 85 years old.