Confessions of a Hypersensitive, Overactive, Toy-Destroying Border Collie

Regarding my body:

• I do not understand that in the last 9 months I have been with this family, I have gone from a young pup to a full-size adult dog.  I anticipate being able to fit in spaces such as laps, car seats, and through gaps that are still puppy sized.  
• Unlike other dogs, I am built entirely of elbows.  You may not understand this now, but when I flop myself into your body, you will feel each of them in the bony, digging, sharp manner in which elbows are often thrust. 
• Coordinated movements are fined tuned if I am fetching something, chasing something, chewing something, or trying to sneak out of trouble.  I move like a floppy scarecrow if I am walking, getting off the couch, going through doorways, getting in or out of the car, or turning a corner.  

Regarding my behavior:

• Not only do I warn new people that this is MY house when they come in by barking in random directions, I remind them again when they leave four hours later, even if they have spent the majority of that time rubbing my belly and tossing a ball.  
• I am constantly needing to go outside to check on the status of my toys.  All of the balls in the yard must be congregated in the place of my choice.  If they are not, they will be.  
• My feelings get hurt terribly easily by the following words, phrases, or actions: taking away the ball, "dammit", "go lay down", petting the cats in my presence, leaving me behind for any reason, closing the microwave too loud, asking me not to lay on your clean laundry, accidentally getting kicked because I take up two-thirds of the couch, not being able to sit on my human's lap on the freeway, anything that happens in Petsmart other than letting me carry a squeaky tennis ball around the building, "give me that, please, we need to pay for it."
• I spend my entire day herding things like toys, buildings, parked cars, etc.  By the time I come in for the night, I am exhausted.  My bedtime is strictly no later than 10 pm and I am not interested in starting bed time in my human's bed, on the couch, or on the floor.  Bedtime is observed exclusively in my crate.  Which I love.  

Mobile Mugwump

No.  There’s not an “app” for Mobile Mugwump, although I suppose- in theory- you could be reading me from your fandangled smartphone/mobile device of the gods*.  Imagine for a moment, if you will, all the places you could enjoy me from if I went digitally mobile: work (you shouldn’t be reading personal blogs at work!), home (you really shouldn’t ignore that pile of laundry or the beautiful weather to read this child-adult complain), the bathroom (ugh, gross!), waiting in line (ahhhhh, you’re one of those people…).  On second thought, let’s just enjoy this from your computer. 

This Mugwump went mobile, analog style.  I spent an extended Labor Day weekend in Washington DC as the first vacation I have really had since spring of 2008.  I had a lovely time and got to see some of the cool things I hadn’t seen in my previous trips out there (hello Space Shuttle!).  Also of note, there are an abnormally high number of ducks making their summer home in the reflection pool near the Lincoln Memorial. 

Vietnam Memorial

Relief art at the World War II Memorial

Federal ducks are happy ducks.

Stars and Stripes on a windy, hazy DC day.

Memorial Wreaths at World War II Memorial.

Each star represents a member of the military lost in World War II.

I knew the East Coast was kind of different-- they're ducks come in a vertical model as well. 

He's got my vote for 2012.

 

Surprisingly, it looks like a marshmallow.  A giant, atmosphere busting, zero-G marshmallow of exploration.

*  Someone may or may not be terribly jealous that Verizon’s RIDICULOUS plan only lets a loyal, timely bill-paying customer update her phone once every 2 years and has thus been left in the digital dust of cell phone technology.  

What's All the Locomotion About?

I just had my Plastic Wunderkar (1999 Saturn Coupe) in the shop for some maintenance.  The trick to keeping one's car lasting a long time is to show it you care no more than 2 times a year.  No car washes.  Forget 'regularly scheduled' oil changes.  And the floors? Only vacuumed because  I was too embarassed for a stranger to see how messy she was.  Well, after an oil change, rotated tires, and a replace air filter (the last one was entirely blackened and came with its very own assortment of debris), she runs like a dream.

While I was at the shop at an ungodly 6:54 AM*, I was discussing with the technician the proper care for my car for the future.  You see, as of this June she is classified as a "high mileage car" after celebrating her hundred-thousandth mile.  I think this qualifies us for some sort of discount at Perkins, right?  The technician asked "How many miles would you say you have put on her in the last year?"  And I thought about it, and remembered the sticker I had pulled of the windshield that would have indicated I was approximately 1000 miles overdue for an oil change and then realized my last oil change was September 2009**.  11 months ago.  Which means, I put about 4500 miles on the Wunderkar in a year. 

Such low mileage on my vehicle, you must be thinking that graduate school makes young adults into total hermits who stew in their home for days drinking stale coffee, eating cheesy crackers, and muttering incoherent absurdities about social theory and the spread of pandemic flu.  And you're right; story over. 

Just kidding (kind of).  In the last two years, multiple forces have been pressuring me into exploring alternate modes of moving myself- and occasionally my crap- from one place to another without getting into my car.  First, the field of public health is filled to the brim with health-food hippies, germophobic liberals, and green planet paratroopers.  Which I love.  But it does create a lot of interesting social pressures sometimes: eat veggies, not Kit Kats.  Work out, don't watch movies all night and drink your weight in hot chocolate.  Bike or take public transit, don't drive.  So I bought a bus pass and that opened up all kinds of new wonderful-- I could bus to school, bus to downtown, bus to the store!  Then I started biking more and I could bike to work, bike to the store, bike to races! And I moved somewhere that had almost everything I needed in a few blocks radius and I could walk to get coffee, walk to work out, walk to the bar, walk to the tattoo parlor (just kidding!). 

As you mostly know, I have traded my urban apartment with "character" for suburban basement living while I am between phases of life and thus have traded my mode of transportation to: the Light Rail!  There is a whole lot I could say about riding the train- the people are interesting, the security is sometimes oppressively good, and the train is consistently kept at a frigid 59 degrees. But it is lovely in a million ways!  There is no epic, traffic-jam ridden drives, no out of control parking fees downtown, keeps my gas guzzling to a minimum, and I have completed more books by reading on the train than ever before***. 

Just bought my first non-student pass for the train.  Helloooooooo, cheap and easy commute.  Where do I get my green planet paratrooper outfit, hat, and button? 


*I didn't always know there was even a 6:54 AM.  I miss school. 
** I know, I know, I know, Mom and Dad, that I should be changing my oil more often regardless of mileage.  But really, on a scale of Never to Always, my track record for timely responsibility hovers where? That's what I thought, so this news is not likely surprising anyone. 
***Post-grad school spoiler alert: When you finish school you can READ FOR FUN! Did you know that existed?! I had totally totally forgotten...

$0.02

That's about how much change I made.  But, I got in to futzing with it and it turns out I don't want the background of my blog to look like a giant watermelon.  I like to eat it, but I am not a watermelon-bloggin' kinda girl.  And I was afraid of being lame with black text on a white background, so you will notice the nice cool grey.

I can't promise this will last.  We'll see.  Old settings are saved and ready to be redeployed at a moment's notice.

But! You will notice, maybe right about -------------------- HERE! (Look down) that you can share my posts via email, Facebook, and stuff... if you wanted.

Do you have any spare change?

Change [cheynj]; (verb, used with object): to transform or convert

The witch changed the prince into a toad.*

I was going to make a list of things that were bad to change-- and then I couldn't really think of any.  It seemed that even what might be a "bad change" (changing your name) came out of a not-so-bad consequence (getting married).  Some changes we make every day are good- like changing our underoos**.  And sometimes we make changes we didn't really want to, but they're not a bad change.  Or the downside is only on one side of the change equation.  For example, I just moved from my Uptown apartment with the most lovely ladies (see image below) to my sister's new home because I didn't want to sign a year long lease in any city in which I was not guaranteed a year-long job.  You see, I am sometimes capable of not making foolish decisions.  So this is not a bad change.  I appreciate having a place to live in which I do not feel that I have to sell vital organs to afford, I like hanging out with my sister and her husband, I can tolerate a suburban neighborhood over the urban buzz I am used to***.  But, I do miss 'my girls.' Again, reference image below for visual representation of our awesomeness.  

Luckily, I am not someone who is adverse to change, I merely have a longer time than some getting settled in to it.  Interestingly, there are some things I like to change frequently, particularly my aesthetic surroundings.  I love to rearrange stuff, hang new art, mix it up.  Which is why moving should be so pleasant for people like me.  So, I have changed my living environment aesthetics and-- here's the punchline-- this whole post is to prepared you for the fact that now my e-environment aesthetics are changing.  So get ready, the blog is about to look different.  Which won't matter to most of you because you read it via email or some RSS Feed which turns it into boredom right before your eyes by ascribing to it some standard, universal format.  Meh. 

Okay, that is all.  And! I am going to blog more, maybe, I think (I hope).  I certainly mean to, but now I have noticed that you guys aren't coming back! Probably because there's nothing to read, so I don't blame you.  Fixing this by updating the look and considering the topics you might like to here me complain about/wax poetically on the most.  

* I used the second definition of change because the first was the length of a novella and because this is the most superior "use it in a sentence" example I have ever seen.  That witch is always changing them into toads...

**Not doing that everyday?! Start.  Today.  Change 'em twice today to catch yourself up.  

*** Guess what I don't miss?  Ambulance sirens and screaming drunk girls on the corner at 2:30 am.  Good riddance, you miserable girls with no concept of sleeping neighbors.  

The Complete Steps of Packing, Mugwump Style

1. Survey the landscape. 
2. Decide there is too much stuff that is not visible.
3. Move all the "hidden stuff" into view.  This means completely emptying all drawers, closets, cupboards, etc. 
4. Resurvey.
5. Marvel at the giant mess you have just made.  This could be your greatest accomplishment yet.
6. Decide to take a picture of the big mess.
7. Spend thirty minutes swearing about your misplaced camera.  Tear through belongings, ruining whatever system of organization once existed.
8. Find a movie you didn't even know you owned.  Put it in! 
9. Pop some popcorn (for your movie of course).
10. Try on ALL clothing to make sure it fits and you like it.  Create 6 new outfits in the process.
11. Get serious about packing.  Put on your game face, pick up you magic marker and your packing tape, and get moving!
12. Text no fewer than six friends to tell them how hard packing sucks. 
13. Spend forty-five minutes carrying on no fewer than four text conversations. 
14. Time for a break!
15. Throw away exactly one magazine and one take out menu. 
16. Start packing clothes and shoes.  Decide that in the next 4 days you will need at LEAST 12 outfits including the following items: blue cocktail dress, sweatpants, patent leather pumps, green tennis shoes, gym shorts, assorted t-shirts, two sweaters, two pairs of sandals, four skirts, and at least 5 bras.  Forget to save some undies, curse yourself in the morning. 
17. Decide that all of the things that were once prized possessions are now all piles of shit.  Have a burst of anger and get "rid" of half your belonging. 
18. While changing laundry, realize that you really do love that stuff and cry as you rescue everything you just tossed (and more!) from the Donate or Toss piles. 
19. Resurvey the landscape.  Things look about the same, save for the elimination of one magazine, one take out menu, and your underpants. 
20. Make a sandwich. 
21. Sharpen an entire box of pencils in case you lose your pencil sharpener in the move. 
22. Take a shower. 
23. Pack exactly seven books and assorted USB cables that do not appear to belong to any of your devices.
24. Look at all 472 tagged photos of yourself on Facebook.
25. Untag some of those.
26. Make your bed. 
27. Pile all the stuff from your floor onto your bed to "make some space to work" on the floor.
28. Read through ALL your saved greeting cards on the floor.
29. Draw a picture, testing all of your markers.  Throw away the bad ones.
30. Read through old class notes.  Affirm that you have not learned anything.
31. Move some piles from one side of the room to the other.  Stack some boxes for a neater, more accomplished ambiance. 
32. Resurvey the landscape.  You're too tired to get all this done.  Shove the pile on the bed onto the floor. 
33. Restart the movie. 
34. Reaffirm to yourself that you will be more motivated to pack... tomorrow. 

Breaking News?

Something I was thinking since the announcement of the death of Yankee's owner George Steinbrenner:

Is someone's death really "breaking news?"  I mean, they're gonna be dead for a long time now... we could really talk about that at any time, right? 

In fact, tomorrow he will still be dead and I bet we will still be talking about it.  Seems like there isn't that much to say: heart attack.  80.  dead.  So maybe we could skip talking about it today?

P.S.

Just checked Google Analytics for my visits:  Thanks Canada for keeping the international dream of Modern Mugwump alive with your solo visit in the last month.  I will refrain from making fun of your lovely country for approximate 3 days.  Unless someone sets up a REALLY good joke that I have to take.  Just sayin'.

By The Numbers, Worst Blogger Ever Edition

Um, I have no excuses for the way in which I have dropped off the face of the blogging planet.  I bet all my old followers are gone; even my parents.  Awesome.  Well, I will catch you up on the last month with everyone's favorite format: By the Numbers!

2: The number of triathlons I have now completed in my lifetime.  #3 (hopefully) happens Aug. 1, 2010 in Duluth, MN.

8: The number of ladies that traveled to the City of Lakes for a fabulous bachelorette party for a very dear college friend*. 

543:  The miles driven (round trip) to be in said college friend's beautiful  wedding.  It is truly a wonderful blessing and honor to be invited to be a member of anyone's wedding party and celebrate their love.  Plus, a free dance party in a fancy dress is ALWAYS on this mugwump's agenda. 

2,763: The number of words cut from my Masters Project to make it a manuscript.  Publishing? Maybe.  Maybe not. But it's a good experience nonetheless. 

10(ish): The number of weeks I have been in my internship at the City of Minneapolis.  Also, the number of weeks I have LOVED my job at the City of Minneapolis.

7:1: The odds I will place a $2 bet on a losing horse at the races. 

19: The number of days left on our lease in Uptown.  The move is bittersweet.  Excited to be moving in with my sister and brother-in-law, but terribly heartbroken to leave the fabulous women I have been living with for the last 14 months.  Although, as one roommate put it, a physical move at this point in our lives is simply a tangible manifestation of the real moves we are all making: moving towards careers and independence.  Forward motion is always positive, even if it occasionally results in the physical departure from things and people we have held very dear. 

1: The number of golden birthdays we each get. 

12: The number of days until my one and only golden birthday.

Bajillion: The amount of fun (on a scale of 1-10) I plan on having that day.**

* So weird to call people "college friends," as if I were really that far from the time I spent in college. 
** Good, clean, safe fun. 

Office Culture

Update: Love the job still.  Although, I was thinking about it the other day and I've never had a job I didn't at least like a little, and I look back on all my jobs with some fondness.  So, maybe I am just one of those lucky young people that enjoys being productive and being social.  Maybe the weariness of the work world hasn't yet rubbed off on me.

One thing I am definitely having a hard time adjusting to is Office Culture.  It's not (really) the social part, I seem to get along with my coworkers really well and the whole department is a lot of fun.  It's the little things I don't seem to pick up on.

The following are things I still need to learn:

• A meeting scheduled at 2:30 will not actually start until 2:40, even when all the attendants are in the office.  
• The actual meeting won't start until 2:50 because everyone will talk about their grandchildren, dogs, gardens, or window treatments.  Yeaaaaah.
• No one comes into the office at 8 am.  No one.  
• No one stays at the office until 4:30.  No one.  
• You don't really have to be accountable for where you are during the day, as long as work gets done.  
• Outlook Calendar.  That shit is confusing.  Update/Propose a New Time/Tentative/Out of the Office. Gah- where's the "I don't wanna" button?