Sprained Ankles Suck

I'm 41 years old and I've never been injured, unless you count the time I fell off the Fire Engine bars in the playground in 3rd grade and split my chin open.

I've been playing soccer for over 10 years and I've never been injured. Don't get me wrong, I've gotten hurt a lot. As you know, I have a tendency to take a ball to the face at least once a season. I also get knocked down a lot. Many times I've thought that I was injured only to find that there was very little pain left when the adrenaline of the hit/fall/kick wore off. I have a very low pain tolerance so any little hit hurts like the dickens. But never has any of my hurts equaled a full blown injury. Until now.  :(

I sprained my ankle playing soccer on November 11th. I was running next to a guy who was taking the ball toward our goal. He's really, really good with a very strong shot. I stuck my foot out in front of the shot to block it. I blocked it alright! My foot wasn't quite on the ground as the ball hit it and the force of the ball turned my foot inward causing me to land on my ankle instead of my foot. I heard a loud 'pop' as I went down and I knew I was done for. No one noticed that I was injured, not even the guy who shot the ball or Jace (the goalie) who saw it all, because there was no contact on the play. Play continued until I got Jace's attention for some help to get me off the field.

When I finally got to the bench, the other players determined that it wasn't broken since I could wiggle my toes. (Is this even true?) That sounded good to me because that meant it was just sprained and being uninitiated into the world of sports injuries, I was sure that a sprain was much better than a break.

I wish.

The next two days I couldn't put any weight on my ankle at all. I was on crutches for most of the time, though I have to admit that they slowed me down way too much so around the house I either hopped or crawled. It was faster!

This is how swollen it was initially. Finding shoes to wear to work was a problem! 

I limped for the next month. It was ridiculous. A friend at work loaned me a boot to stabilize it but it was too big and the rubbing on my calves was so painful that I stopped using it.

It was taking forever to heal. After 6 weeks the swelling had barely gone down. I finally went to Urgent Care ($140 after insurance). They did an x-ray and verified that it wasn't broken. They gave me prescriptions for two pain meds even though I told them the pain wasn't that bad at all, I was just worried because it wasn't healing. The next week I went to an orthopedist ($74 after insurance). I was in his office for a total of 3 minutes! 30 seconds of that time was taking off my shoe and sock. He felt around my ankle, declared it sprained, told me I didn't need physical therapy and there was no need to ice it and to resume regular activity. I told him my regular activity was soccer and hiking. He got annoyed and said "regular activity within reason" and left. 

A week later I had an appointment for a check-up with a potential new doctor (my regular doctor quit practicing to become a full-time instructor). This doctor was awesome. She was incredulous that an orthopedist didn't give me any follow-up care guidelines or any instructions at all. She gave me a list of exercises to do to regain range of motion and to strengthen it. She told me to take ibuprofen and to ice it after activity.  She recommended two braces to wear, one for regular day-to-day and one for soccer/hiking/running.

For almost three months I've done nothing active. Well, I did limp my way through Rugged Maniac because it's such a fun race and since it was the week after the injury I figured it hadn't healed enough to be causing any regression. After that, though, I didn't do anything. I didn't walk the dogs since they have a tendency to pull when they see a cat or smell a good smell or even just when they have to pee, and my ankle wasn't strong enough even to take that. I didn't play soccer (obviously) but I did go to almost every game and stand on the field so that the teams wouldn't forfeit. I wasn't able to hike. I wasn't able to run. I wasn't able to do anything. It was very frustrating! I gained 10 pounds in less than 3 months. That is sad. I packed away my skinny clothes and dug under the bed for the storage box of my fat clothes. I'm glad I saved them or I'd have nothing to wear for work!

In the last two weeks, I have started being able to run with my brace on. It's a limping run with only about 2/3 of my usual stride, but it's something. I've gone hiking a few times but I've only done flat hikes; I don't think I'm quite ready for climbing any summits. The ankle still hurts. I have a limited range of motion. But, it's slowly getting better. I'm looking forward to the day when I can jump again!

Sprained ankles suck.

Two Crappy Races and A Flight to Australia (continued)

Part II - Challenge Nation Phoenix

The street corner where we got our CitySolve clues was, in a bad judgement call on CS's part, also the corner of the restaurant that was the start location for Challenge Nation. A bit confusing because many CN racers saw people with clues and thought they were late or that they missed something. We helped sort out some of the confusion and went upstairs to the plaza where the CN race was to start.

The Challenge Nation staff asked one person from each team to stand in a big circle with one hand out. There were a zillion teams so the circle was larger than the area that the sound of their megaphone could reach, causing some teams to miss the announcements. Something to work on, but overall the process worked. Everyone had to remain in the circle until all teams had clues. 1, 2, 3, go! After our first clue fiasco, this seemed like a really fair way to do it.

The clues:

Many of the clues we already knew from previous races and just general knowledge. A lot of them were scavenger type, find-a-stranger clues. John from the Avenging Narwhals in Seattle and Kiri were our clue solvers. A few of the clues were tricky, including #6, which we never solved. That was a shame because we really wanted to skip #12. It didn't even open until 2:30 and we hoped to be finished with the race by that time!

The clue instructions were fun. You really had to read the clues. For example, you had to find a stranger from a specific state, have them show their drivers license in a photo with you while all of you formed the shape of their state with your arms. Can you tell this is Washington? :)

The specifics of this clue were that you had to take a picture when the minute hand was at a 5 minute increment and you had to mimic the arms of the clock. I guess I think that clock arms should be bent. 

We didn't run our best race. We backtracked quite a few times, and twice went within a half block of #12, Wells Fargo, the clue that didn't open until 2:30. We never did solve #6 so we had to use that as our skip. We were annoyed that we'd have to backtrack yet again to go back to Wells Fargo after 2:30. Despite all that, we were enjoying this race. We liked the clue format which almost made up for the fact that there were no actual challenges. (You would think that a race named "Challenge Nation" would include some challenges and not just photos.)

We weren't in full-on race mode because we had time to kill before we could complete #12 at 2:30. We somewhat leisurely finished the rest of the clues. We got to Wells Fargo at 2:27 and, with a HUGE group of other teams, waited until 2:30 to take our picture. The staff there said that people had been coming in there for the past hour taking pictures and they were letting them. Seriously? What a bunch of morons who couldn't read the rules. The clue specifically stated, IN BOLD, "this clue can only be completed after 2:30." To make sure we didn't get a penalty like all those early teams were going to get, we made sure the time on our phone was visible in the picture. See? 2:30!

We hauled ass back to the finish line. I ran so fast I almost puked. We were the first team there from the 2:30 Wells Fargo group! The only teams that could have beat us were those who had figured out #6. We were optimistic for a high placement! We checked in and were told we were the 17th team to arrive. 17th?!? No way!

As we were getting our photos checked, I asked the photo checker about the penalty for those people who came in before us and used Wells Fargo as one of their 11 completed clues. He had no idea what I was talking about. They hadn't been giving penalties to those teams. I started to get a little angry. The clue specifically stated AFTER 2:30. The volunteer wisely took us over to the race director. This is where things quickly went downhill.

We presented the problem to the race director. Race Director: "Oh, that was supposed to say 1:30. I copied/pasted from a previous clue set and must not have changed it."  Nope, that excuse isn't good enough! The clue sheets say 2:30 so teams should be penalized for not following the actual written rules, instead of abiding by your intended rules. Race Director: "Well, there isn't anything I can do about it now."  Yes, yes there is. You can re-check the photos of the 16 teams who arrived before us and assess the accurate penalty. Race Director: "No, I can't do that. There is nothing I can do."

At this point, I'm starting to get a lot angry. He keeps trying to brush us off. The finish line area is starting to get really crowded with other teams arriving from Wells Fargo. I keep pushing my point, because I'M RIGHT and he is WRONG. (See? Getting angry.)

Race Director: "Well, I can assure you of one thing. I PERSONALLY checked in the top 5 money-winning teams and they all did #6 and skipped Wells Fargo."

Oh, okay. I can accept that. I'm starting to calm down. That is fair. We didn't win the money. They were smarter than us. Okay.  We proceeded to photo check and accrued no penalties so we stayed in 17th place. The top 25 teams qualify for nationals so they asked us for our email address and phone numbers.

I was still a little worked up from our altercation and decided to do a little research. We went into the bar and started asking around for the teams that came in the Top 5. As we found them, I asked each of them if they skipped Wells Fargo or if they skipped a different clue. We found 3 of the top 5 AND ALL OF THEM SAID THEY WENT TO WELLS FARGO!

Okay. MAD AGAIN! The race director LIED RIGHT TO OUR FACES! He said all top 5 teams skipped Wells Fargo. LIAR!!!

We found the lying race director in the entry way of the restaurant. I confronted him with the information I had found and told him that lying is not the correct way to get out of a mistake. The correct way to get out of the mistake would be to fix it. He really, really hated me at this point. Race Director: "There is nothing I can do for you."  Yes there is! You have the phone number of every team in the Top 25. Most of them are still here. Call them and ask them to come back to photo check. If they arrived before 2:30 and didn't skip Wells Fargo, they get a penalty. Easy solution. Prizes haven't been awarded yet. No harm done. Race Director: "There is nothing I can do for you." No, there is plenty you CAN do, but there is nothing you WILL do for us.

This went on for a little bit longer until Christy and I couldn't handle it anymore and he was on the verge of physically escorting us from the building.

As we were passing by the photo check area, which had a long line of teams just arriving, I got up on a bench. I started screaming. "For all of you who just got here from Wells Fargo! They are accepting Wells Fargo pictures from before 2:30! They refuse to fix this!"  Probably not one of my finer moments, but at least I didn't lie to a paying customer! A paying customer with a really loud voice! The people who heard me started to get pissed off too. I don't know what happened after that because we left.

We left. To Australia!  In the airport:

Every time we had access to wi-fi in Australia, I was on Challenge Nation's facebook page either telling the race director that lying is bad business (in my angrier moments) or offering solutions on how they could make it right (in my friendlier moments). Every post was deleted and I was finally removed from their page. I saw a few other posts along the same lines before they were deleted too.

The ironic end to this story is that CN emailed everyone a week later with this:

There were some irregularities with the finish results in our Phoenix race this year, which we have worked throughout this week to address in a fair manner.  In 50 races that we have conducted, we've never had to do this much follow-up, so please accept our apologies for the delay in resolution. However, getting the finish places and times correct is very important to us.

The fundamental issue is that despite the clue clearly indicating that the Wells Fargo History Museum clue was not to be conducted prior to 2:30 p.m., it is apparent that some teams broke that requirement and took that photo prior to 2:30 p.m.  Subsequently, these teams were able to record a finish time that was incorrect, because of our error in fully verifying the photo time for that clue and disqualifying those teams at that point. 

They went on to ask everyone to resubmit their pictures so they could verify the actual winning teams. Oh my god. If he had just listened to me that day, none of this would have been an issue. He literally had the top 16 teams' phone numbers in front of him. Those teams all had finished within the past half hour. All he had to do was ask them to come back to photo check. A ten minute fix. Instead, he thought lying to me would be a better option.

After all was said and done, we finished 6th. Which very conveniently puts the trouble-causing team one place out of the money prizes. Who's with me on screaming conspiracy on this one?  :)

I have half a mind to enter the Nationals just to scream at him some more.  But I won't because I won't be giving him another dime.

A List of Things I Hate

This is an incomplete list and should be considered a work in progress.

1. Pickles
2. Loud motorcycles
3. Costumes for dogs and kids that have a face on the hood. The dog/kid already has a face. Adding another face on top is just dumb.
4. Menus that include a partial list of ingredients or toppings. If you're going to tell me that the hamburger comes with lettuce, tomato and pickle, please also tell me that it is going to come slathered in both mayonnaise and mustard. I'm not inclined to ask about ingredients if you list them for me. Then when you surprise me with additional ingredients, I don't consider that a pleasant surprise. All or nothing, people!
5. Noise
6. The use of an apostrophe s when pluralizing a noun
   
7. Slow walkers
8. Running
9. The way I feel when I see old people who can't do the things they used to be able to do and the way I feel when I see small businesses that are failing or that have closed
   
10. Pickles (they are so bad that they deserve to be listed twice)
    

Grrrr!

I posted a really long post about the awesome Oyster Race in Phoenix. It was up for a little bit. Then Blogger broke. To fix themselves, they restored to a few days prior and my post was taken down. They are supposedly restoring all the blogs, but my Oyster post is still missing. The latest update from Blogger is that "most" blogs are restored. Sadly, I am not in the "most" catergory. Boo.

Migraine Madness - Part II

Starting up where I left off...yes, this story is still dull and I still don't know how to correctly use lay and lie. I suck.

Day 8 - I went to work in the morning (I brought my pillow for floor-nap time-outs). I was starting to feel a little better but still did most of my work on my blackberry while laying down on the floor. My boss was not in the office but she would not have liked that! I finally got in to see a regular doctor. My doctor was booked so I went to see her partner. Pat picked me up at work to take me to the appointment. Again, like the Urgent Care and ER, a doctor's office is not really supportive of one's need to be laying down 100% of the time! Dr. Holder prescribed a drug that he said might be able to knock the migraine away. I was so optimistic! I took the prescription in right away and went with Pat to lunch. I was able to sit up some of the time! Wow - look at me, almost a real person again! When I got home, the cleaning ladies were there and the dogs were barking like crazy. I took them outside to wait for the cleaning crew to leave. It was a very uncomfortable 45 minutes. They finally left (with 2 more pairs of my running shoes. I'm guessing one of them wears 6.5 and digs my taste in footwear) and I took the prescribed meds and headed back to my lovely couch. In almost no time, I was in what I like to call a Pain Coma. Laying down didn't relieve the pain. Any movement I made was excruciating. It was horrible. I went to bed very early.

Day 9 - I don't remember how I got Galapogos, but he was at my house. Hmm...Pain Coma. I was still taking the prescribed meds but getting worse and worse. Did I mention Pain Coma? About 4:00 in the afternoon while half-heartedly contemplating beheading myself, Galapogos was cuddled up with me on the couch. All of a sudden he freaked out, his front paws went up to his ears, his mouth opened all the way and his head went all crooked and one of his back legs kicked up to the side. He was frozen in that position and shaking like crazy. Have you ever had a dog have a seizure in your lap before? It is not good. Despite my Pain Coma, I was already on the phone with my vet and in my car before I could even make the decision to do so. I am happy my vet is close by because I was in no shape for driving! When I got there, I started to lie down on the bench in the waiting room. The receptionist, who gets migraines herself, figured it out immediately and took us right into an exam room so I could lie down on the couch in there. Three visits to doctors and no one cares that I need to lay down, one visit to the vet and I was lying down within seconds of arriving. I love my vet! All of the staff and the vet were very understanding of my need to be sprawled out on the couch during the exam. Galapogos was fully recovered from his seizure and $300 later, his bloodwork was being sent to the lab. Pat met me at the vet to follow me home.

Day 10! TEN! TEN days of migraine. How ridiculous can this get? I stopped taking the meds because I felt they were making me worse and causing that Pain Coma. Pat took me into work because I had to send a few emails (omg - the pain of looking at a computer screen is crazy-bad) and do a little paperwork. An hour later he was called to take me to the ER. Poor Pat. We went to St. Joe's with the thought that they have a neurology center attached so perhaps the ER doctors would have some neurology knowledge. I had to wait for about an hour...and of course, there was no place to lie down. Oh, how I wished I was at the vet. I did the best I could by resting my head in Pat's lap. Poor Pat. The doctor saw me and wanted to start me on some IV meds and get another CT scan. I was anxiously waiting for them to take me to a hospital room so I could lay down. Except that at St. Joe's, they don't have hospital beds!! WTF? The pod-like area had two chairs, one reclining chair like a dentist chair (not fully reclining, btw!) and one living-room type leather chair. Seriously? I'm admitted to a hospital and I can't lay down?? At John C Lincoln, they wheeled my bed to take me to my CT scan. At St. Joe's, they put me in a "wheelchair" that had no armrests and no headrest and looked very much like the wooden elementary school chairs modified with wheels and a foot holder. Then the left me in the hallway. This place was crazy. I cried. I'll admit it. The pain and the weirdness and the discomfort really did me in. However, whatever drugs this doctor gave me WORKED. It really felt like the migraine was knocked out and I was left with just a strong headache and absolutely no energy. I could walk super-slowly...but I was upright.

In the days since then (days 11 through 15) I have recovered some mobility but the migraine hangover (look at me learning new terminology!) and the anti-nausea drugs they've put me on have made it impossible for me to relax or sleep or think straight. I can't drive for long distances. I can't be on the computer for more than 30 minute increments. Worst of all, I've got the attention span of a puppy and I feel like I could crawl right out of my skin. I'm still moving so slowly and I can't move my head without pain, so exercise is out of the question but I really just feel the intense need to run and scream and shake loose. ERRRRGGGHHHH.

Remember when I was healthy? Like two weeks ago when I won the Great Urban Race? Jeez. Count your blessings, kids. You never know when your reality is gonna shift into something crazy.

Migraine Madness - Part I

This is going to a long, boring post. You don't have to read it if you don't want to. And reader beware, I am also going to fully flaunt my inability to choose correctly between lay and lie, so therefore I choose indiscriminately. I'm too exhausted to go visit Grammar Girl for help and I'm not up to having her make me feel guilty about mixing my verb tenses, too. My apologies to you for both the dullness and the poor writing quality of my migraine story. Blah.

That is quite a lovely couch, is it not? For 10+ days it was my haven. On Wednesday, March 15, I got a little headache on my way to work. I don't really get headaches so I loosened my ponytail and stopped at Sonic for a Coke. The secretary at my job offered me a migraine pill, which I took. I figured that would be the end of it.

Yeah, right.

By 11:30, I was in the car driving home, trying desperately to stay upright long enough to not crash my car. By 11:45, I was down for the count. I had a headache like never before. I was sort of okay if I was laying down, but standing or even sitting up sent me waves of nausea and felt like my head was being squeezed in a vice.

The next day, the headache was still there. I took a sick day and spent Day 2 resting and laying flat on that beautiful couch and was humored by the fact that migraines are real. I previously had a vague idea that they were conjured up by lazy whiny people who don't want to go to work that day. On Day 3, it was no longer humorous that I was unable to function. I made Pat take me to Urgent Care. It is hard to go to Urgent Care when you can't stand up for more than 5 seconds at a time. They are not at all accommodating with the check-in process. There is no laying down for the blood pressure test. Finally, the put me in a little room. They gave me two shots in the butt. Ow. We went home...and waited...and no change.

On Day 4, Saturday, I made Jamie take me to get the prescription from Urgent Care filled. Target was blessedly fast and I was back on the lovely couch quickly, which was a good thing because I still couldn't stomach being upright for any time at all. I missed the CityScape race, which turned out to be not such a bad thing since Christy ended up having to work that day anyway.

Day 5 - now this was really getting ridiculous. In addition to the pain, I was bored, lonely and frustrated with being unable to do anything. I could look at my blackberry in short increments so facebook was my only means of entertainment. That is pretty sad. And I had to miss soccer! UGH! I made Pat take me to the Emergency Room. Just like Urgent Care, they weren't so accommodating with my need to lay flat, but they finally got me into a room. They gave me some drugs that knocked me out before Nurse Karen was even done injecting them into the IV. I think she might have misread my weight and given me a little too much. They did a CT scan and blood work. Scans were all clear. They asked me if I felt better. Um?? I can't even move my little finger and you just informed me that I don't have a brain infection...so, yeah, I'm feeling FINE. :) I slept the rest of the day but woke up that evening with no change in the pain or nauseousness.

Day 6 - I did a little research on my blackberry in bits and stops, as much as I could handle. Migraines typically last from a few hours to a few days. Okay...it's been more than a few days! Time to worry? Someone on facebook suggested a chiropractor so I dragged my ass to one near the house. Waste of time and money.

Day 7 - Guess what? We are getting a new roof on our house! The insurance is paying for it and we needed one anyway, so all good. All good unless you have a migraine and there are people banging and stomping and screaming above your head. I rallied my energy and drove to a friend's house where I spent the day in silence. This day also happened to be Pat's birthday. His parents were taking him out for dinner. To surprise him, I had Christy take me to the restaurant to meet them. He had been so nice and supportive of me this whole time, I felt like a jerk to miss his birthday. I laid my head on the table for the entire meal...well, except for the half hour I had to go lay down in the truck. :) Happy Birthday, Pat!

Sad.

Remember how I told you about all the outside cats in my neighborhood? There is one cat in particular whose favorite haunt is my front yard. I notice him the most because he looks exactly like Al. He's a big ol' black cat with a medium long coat. More than once, I've pulled up into the driveway and freaked out because Al is outside sitting on the front wall. Al is not allowed outside!! So I yell at him and then walk over to the wall to pick him up and take him back in the house where he belongs. And the black cat, who is not Al, will run away at my approach. Oops - mistaken identity. But, just to be sure, the first thing I do when I go inside is find my kitty.

Sadly, this scenario won't happen ever again. This weekend I saw the black cat, who is not Al, dead in the street in front of my house.

I am so sad for the beautiful black cat. Poor kitty.

Hey readers ... PLEASE keep your cats inside!!! Thanks.

A Sad Commentary on Friendship

There is a park just north of downtown. It's about a 20 minute walk from my office. I go there on my lunch break to spend 10 minutes swinging on the swings. It's a great break from the kookiness of work and it really helps to clear my mind.

On today's walk I noticed this:A bunch of empty flagpoles. Huh.


I read the plaque on the pedestal next to the flagpoles:
It reads, "Flags of Friendship. These flags are flown to symbolize the ties of friendship"....

Sad.

I Hate Cats

I hate cats.

Ok, not all cats. Not very many cats actually. For instance, I like my kitty and I like your cats, too. The cats I hate are the now-almost-grown-up litter of feral cats that are everywhere in my neighborhood.

Before I finish my rant about cats, let me rant about my neighborhood. My neighborhood is slowly going downhill. For eight years, it has been a pretty good place to live. Yeah, we've always been right on the edge of the ghetto, but once you're actually in my neighborhood you never really noticed. About a year ago, the prostitutes crossed over the major street and started walking on my side of the street. Downward slide. Then the light rail construction brought about the demolition of all the corner houses along the major street, bringing my house one closer to the ghetto and making it now visible from the major street. Downward slide. For a while there was a security guard posted on our neighborhood access road to prevent squatters from occupying the empty to-be-demolished homes. Then they put the light rail on hold for X number of years, which leaves us with a bunch of vacant lots. Nice. Downward slide. Next, the foreclosures started leaving many of the houses empty. It really is a downhill slide.

What really sucks is that we had the opportunity for the light rail to really help our neighborhood. As part of the light rail construction, the city proposed turning all the streets that weren't deemed to be thoroughfares into cul-de-sacs, ending right before the major street where the light rail will be built. This would have kept the ghetto from doing its current rapid encroachment right up to my front door. But the people in my neighborhood voted this down. Well, they didn't vote it up, at any rate. We needed a 70% approval rate for it to pass. I doubt 70% of the people even voted. Anyway, we won't be getting cul-de-sacs. We will be getting a berm and some "landscaping" to replace all these eyesore vacant lots...whenever the budget crisis allows for the continuation of light rail construction. Or never, in that case.

Ok, back to the cats. In addition to the prostitutes and the empty lots and empty houses, another new addition to my neighborhood are feral cats. For the past eight years, we had a few mature, most likely owned cats out and about. We'd see them occasionally on our walks. But now there are about a bazillion (I'm still working on the census numbers so I'm estimating that number) adolescent cats everywhere. This makes walking the dogs very annoying. If the dogs see a cat (which is every time we go out), they go crazy and remain on HIGH ALERT for the rest of the walk. It's gotten to the point that the dogs go on HIGH ALERT as soon as the leashes come out. Immediately noses hit the pavement looking for the first cat trail. Forget about running the dogs. They cannot maintain a straight line while in HIGH ALERT. No way!! They might miss a cat!!!!

Whenever we see a cat, I immediately put the dogs into a sit/stay to give the cat a chance to get away and to, optimistically, give the dogs a minute to calm down. And though they do stay, they are quivering and crying the whole time. How do you train a dog not to quiver and cry??

Walking/running the dogs has long been an exercise to calm the dogs and, more importantly, to calm my over-active crazy brain. Now walking the dogs makes me even crazier than I was before. I hate cats!

This sucks

I just got a Blackberry Storm and so far, I HATE it.

Cosmically Glum

I've been feeling cosmically glum for the past few days. It seems that whenever a bad mood comes around, bad things start happening, making the bad mood even deeper and darker. It wouldn't have taken much to push me over the edge yesterday, but it seems like the badness just wouldn't quit.

First, I was in Scottsdale doing venue site visits and I got a fricking parking ticket. I wasn't parked illegally, but apparently I have neglected to put my registration sticker on my license plate so I was ticketed for parking an unregistered vehicle on Scottsdale city streets. Don't you think that my tags are a matter for the DMV, not for the City of Scottsdale? Ergh. I hate Scottsdale. Come to think of it, the last time I was in a mood this bad, I got a speeding ticket in the mail that day. God, I can't afford to be in a bad mood!!

Then, I went hiking with the dogs when I got home in an effort to exercise away my bad mood. We were finishing up the hike, it was getting dark. There was a bunny on the trail that I didn't see, but Frankie sure did. I should have been paying closer attention because I know that all the bunnies come out to play at dusk. Frankie pulled the leash right out of my kayak-blistered hands and took off running. It was terrible. When we are at obedience class that dog has an amazing recall. He even does ok at the park with kids and other dogs around. But with a running bunny as a distraction - no way. He did not respond to my calls. He was gone! It was almost dark out, I couldn't see or hear him. Gone! I tried not to panic as I trailed after him, but my heart was beating a million beats per second and I was on the verge of tears. Thank god for Georgie. Who knew that she has what it takes to be an excellent tracking dog? She was pulling as hard as she could trying to catch up with Frankie and the bunny. After about 10 minutes of scrambling through the brush along a dry wash, she led me right to a forlorn Frankie, staring sadly into a hole. The bunny escaped. I went home feeling stupid and stressed from the scare.

And finally...I didn't eat lunch yesterday. I was leaving the office early for the site visits, so I just ran out of time. No problem. I was planning to go to the mall to get my glasses fixed later and any trip to the mall means I get rewarded with Chick-Fil-A. Mmmm, yummy. I was looking forward to this all day!! But I get to the mall and...my Chick-Fil-A is now closed. CLOSED. It took much will power not to lay down in the fetal position, moaning and rocking right there outside of Hot Topic. Ok, this might be a little thing that would hardly make a blip in a normal day, but with everything added up, I am totally broken hearted.

And cosmically glum.

If You Think That, I Could Care Less

Verbal Pet Peeve Time!

If you think that I don't have any pet peeves, then you have another thing coming. And that right there is my first pet peeve of this post.

The initial (and in my mind, correct) saying is a grammatical play on words and should be "If you think that, you have another THINK coming." What kind of "thing" do people think that is going to replace the original thought? Well, a new thought would be a good guess, right?? And to make a play on the word "thought," you could call it a "think" - which is actually listed in the dictionary as an informal noun, btw. I know most people say "thing" and just about everyone gets the point when they hear it that way, so maybe I shouldn't let it bother me so much. Well, if you think that it possible, then you've got another think coming!

Next Pet Peeve:
Every time I hear Beyonce's Put a Ring On It, I cringe. I'd like to say that this is because I am way too cool for catchy pop songs. Nope, that's not it. I'll willingly admit that the "Wuh, oh, oh... Oh, oh, oh's" make me sing along and bop around a little while I'm driving to work. It's when she sings "I could care less what you think" that gets me all cringe-y with pet peeviness.

I hear this phrase all the time. "I could care less about the Super Bowl" or "Politicians could care less about what you think." People. It's "COULDN'T care less." When you say that you could care less about something you are indicating that there is some level of caring there. You are indicating that it is possible for the level of caring to be decreased. On the Caring Continuum that ranges from complete and utter indifference all the way up to complete obsession, you are falling somewhere in the middle. Y our bitingly sarcastic tone would indicate that you fall on the lower end, but yet your words are telling me that you DO care. Again, this is a commonly used phrase that people readily understand so I shouldn't let it bother me. However, I really truly could care less.

Shopping. Brought To You By Satan.

The walks with Sable, the running with Frankie and Georgie, the working out with Jamie have all paid off - in the past few months I have lost a significant amount of weight. YAY, right? Well, it's not so YAY every weekday morning at 6:30 when I'm trying to decide what to wear to work. All of my dress pants are too big and I curse the fact that most of them don't have belt loops. For the past few weeks I've been overworking the safety pin in an effort to stay clothed. Finally I had enough and I forced myself to give two hours of my life to go clothes shopping.

I'm sure that everyone's heaven and hells are individually specific as there could be no universal paradise or place of torment. My personal hell would look a lot like Macy's. My eternal damnation would include the task of finding five pairs of pants that fit. I had a two hour preview of this hell last night. I'm 5' 2" thus I'm too short, diminutive, wee for normal clothes -- off to the petite section for me. Petite generally means 5'4" or shorter. It should not generally mean over 70 years of age and choosing to dress in sweaters with reindeers and pants with elastic waists. Why wouldn't petite clothes just be an exact replica of regular clothes with a shorter inseam?? This makes no sense to me. But there you have it - almost an entire clothing section of little, old lady clothes.

You know what else makes no sense to me? Jeans that are size 2PL. Yep - that means size 2, Petite, Long. Huh? If I needed jeans that were long, why would I be shopping in the petite section??

Why can't women's pants be sized like men's pants? Men's pants are labeled with a waist and length measurement so the lucky guys can just grab a pair of pants and waltz out the door without bothering with a fitting room. Women get a number size with no regard to length and since those number sizes and the lengths vary by designer, there is no way to buy without trying on first. Thus my personal hell extends beyond the racks of clothing and into the fitting rooms. If a fitting room could be found, that is. I walked all over this nether world of suffering only to find that every frickin' fitting room is occupied. (Economic crisis? What economic crisis?) I finally found an empty one in the Women's section - empty of people, that is, but not empty of clothes. There were approximately 50 pieces of clothing hanging from every hook and surface in the "empty" dressing room. Me and my 8 pairs of pants barely fit into the available space.

Trying on clothes is as frustrating as choosing clothes to try on. One pair of petite pants is so long they went past my toes. Another pair doesn't even reach my ankles. One size 2 is huge on my waist but way too tight on my butt. Another size 2 can't even be buttoned. Being nowhere near the petite section, I can't just run out and exchange sizes. I'm cold, I'm frustrated, I'm angry and I'm ready to just give in and vow to go to church every Sunday and join a bible study and become a street preacher if it means that I can escape this hell.

I decide to buy two pairs of pants and head off in search of the checkout. There are lots of checkout stations but none of them seem to be staffed. Ergh. I wander some more. I find a staffed checkout station but the sales person is signing the customer up for a credit card (you can save 15% on your purchase, you know) and is not entirely sure what she is doing so it is taking for-frickin'-ever. Another counter, same story. Maybe the abundance of credit card applicants is a sign of the economic crisis after all. I'm sorely tempted to leave the pants and leave the store, but I really need to wear something to work in the morning.

After I finally make my purchases, I have 45 minutes before the mall closes to secure a few more pairs of pants. I run all over the mall, into every likely looking store and finally end up at Ann Taylor Loft. Perhaps normal women, the ones who carry the shopping-gene, know about sizing at Ann Taylor. I didn't. I also didn't know it was not spelled "Anne" - that had to be pointed out to me. I grab what I think to be my size and head to the dressing rooms (mercifully empty!) only to find that these pants are huge! Have the pain and suffering of the past hour caused me to lose even more weight? Nope - at Ann Taylor pants start at size 00, then go to 0, then to 2. Huh. Why does everything have to be so difficult!?

I hate shopping. The end.

Obligatory Day After Election Day Political Post

Yay for Obama!

Boo Hiss for the passing of Arizona Prop 102.

That's all. Thanks.

We Interrupt Your Regularly Scheduled Program...

I'm going to take a break from the fluff and lightness that I usually provide you here at "A Little Diamond" to talk some politics. It's generally my rule to avoid politics because I know I'm not as well-versed as I should be and could be, but Proposition 102 is enough to break me from my political moratorium.

For those of you not in Arizona or for those of you are, but who are even more ill-informed than I am, Prop 102 is having us vote on whether to amend the Arizona Constitution to state that "Only a union of one man and one woman shall be valid or recognized as a marriage in this state.” We voted on a similar initiative in 2006, but apparently they didn't believe our NO then, so we have to tell them again.

I urge all of you here in Arizona to vote a BIG FAT NO! on Prop 102.

Proposition 102 is being touted as the Marriage Protection Amendment. Protect marriage? From what?? How is marriage being threatened by two people of the same sex being in love and choosing to spend their lives together? I'd like the proponents of Prop 102 to know that homosexuality isn't contagious and it isn't a personal threat to you or your marriage. If your next door neighbors are gay, it's not going to ruin your happy heterosexual marriage. Nor is it going to ruin the futures of your precious children's happy heterosexual marriages, if that is what they choose. Your marriage is safe, really!

You know what actually threatens marriage? Divorce! Divorce between that same "one man and one woman" that are narrowly defined in Prop 102. Homosexuality is not the threat.

And you know what else is really dumb about this proposition? Gay marriage is already illegal in Arizona and will remain illegal despite the outcome of this election. So Prop 102 is just there to say, "We not only don't like gays, we REALLY don't like gays. So go away and don't come back to this completely intolerant state."

Ergh.

Please vote NO on Prop 102. Thanks.

Now back to your regularly scheduled fluff and light... pictures from Brazil!!

When we were in Rio, we went to see a Fluminense game at Maracana Stadium. This is one of the biggest soccer arenas in the world and is home to the 2014 World Cup. Brazilian soccer fans are nuts! The whole experience was awesome! Lots of singing and dancing and cheering and chanting. Since the arena is so big, there are plenty of open seats so the fans move at half time to the other side of the stadium so they can always be goal-side. For the rest of our Soccer Troupe team - the five of us are very sorry we left you stranded during playoffs. But we weren't completely skipping out on soccer...see???

I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For

I spent this week on a quest for motivation, connection and an adrenaline rush. I failed on all counts. I thought I had the adrenaline rush in the bag, but there were two problems:

1) It's not called adrenaline anymore, according to a friend of mine who spends most of his free time memorizing Wikipedia. He would like to share this link with you: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Epinephrine

2) Apparently it was too windy today for skydiving. We had made plans to spend a lot of money for a brief thrill at Skydive Arizona. As I pulled into the parking lot of my friend's apartment, I got the call that we had been canceled. Crappy... I got up at 6:00 am on a Saturday for nothing.

I was holding out hope that the adrenaline, er, epinephrine rush you're supposed to get from jumping out of a perfectly good plane would help cure my lack-of-connection / lack-of-motivation blahs.

But instead of this being me:

This is me:
Now I'm off to play some hockey. Maybe playing tough with the big boys will make me feel better.

Updated at 11:15 pm to say: I didn't get to play hockey, either. I was subbing for Pat's team because they were only going to have 7 or 8 players. 11 players showed up, so I was not needed after all. Another wasted trip. Today really sucked.

I did get to eat sushi with my NFBF and watch the Coyotes win their home opener, so I guess that's my silver lining.

My Black Heart

I am annoyed by children in the office. I know that some people (those whose hearts aren't black) are happy to see little tykes waddling down the halls and toddling around their daddies' offices. I, however, am distracted, annoyed and given to fits of outraged disgust at the mere presence of those little fingers and snotty noses. There can be all sorts of office noise going on - printers, phone calls, chatting secretaries, elevators dinging, etc, etc and the one noise that will rise above all to grate on my nerves is the ga-ga-goo-goo of a baby. Today there were two of them. Granted they were a happy duo which is better than a wailing singlet, but god help me - I just wanted to grab them from their mommy, put them in the elevator and hit "Lobby". Bye, bye babies.

Perhaps if they would let me bring my dogs to work, I wouldn't be so cynical about them bringing their children to work.

Three Things That Should Never Happen In August

1. You should never be able to see your breath.

2. You should never have to turn on the heater in your car.

3. You should never wish you had a pair of gloves.

Unfortunately, all these things happened this past weekend. We went to Pinetop, AZ for an agility trial and it was C-O-L-D!!

Spontaneity Meets Procrastination

This is the dichotomy of my personality. One half spontaneous, one half procrastinative.

Spontaneous Me
Last Tuesday Patrick found out that Chivas de Guadalajara was playing MLS's New York Red Bulls at the Cardinals Stadium the next night. (Publicity for this event was non-existent, but I won't go off on a rant about that right now. Well, ok - maybe a little one: How much effort would it take for the promoters to contact the 4 or 5 soccer venues in the Phoenix area? A flyer, an email, a phone call? How about youth soccer organizations? It's not a far stretch to imagine that people who pay to play soccer might also pay to watch professional soccer. Ergh. Okay - back to the original topic.) Pat called me at noon to see if I could look into getting tickets for us and his friend from work.

The game was posted on the Stadium's website and you could buy tickets online via TicketMaster. In my opinion, TicketMaster is the spawn of Satan. Ticket prices are usually reasonable to begin with, but then you have to pay a TicketMaster fee, an administrative fee, a delivery fee (even if you're using will call), a processing fee, a resident fee, a supplemental fee, a contingency fee, a flat fee, a retainer fee, a referral fee, a club fee, a team fee, and a membership fee, and in the end your ticket price has almost doubled. I called the stadium and found out that group tickets could be bought over the phone for a discounted price and NO fees. Yippee! Now I just needed to get 15 people together.

I started at 2:00 pm and by 10:00 am the following day, I had compiled a group of 20! What a fabulous group of spontaneous soccer-loving friends I have! Or maybe I just know a bunch of people with no social life. Either way, I love it when an idea comes together so quickly. Everyone showed up for the game and everyone paid me. I have to admit to being surprised - I expected some flakers and some moochers.

Procrastinative Me
I've been meaning to post about the game for a week now. Let's see what I can remember...

The game was really fun. The stadium's lower level was only about 1/3 full, which is quite a difference from the sold-out Mexico v. USA game last year. (I'm not the only one bothered by the lack of publicity. This is a comment from azcentral.com: "There was absolutely no promotion/advertising for this game. Thus, 0nly 30% of the expected sales occured. I'm not much of a marketing genius, but a frikkin lemonade stand in front of the stadium with a sign that said "FUTBOL HERE" would have been more promo than what was offered. I think there is an opening today for "promotional director" in Glendale, if you can manage a lemonade stand then the job is probably yours!")

But still, Chivas fans showed up in force. They were wearing the jerseys. They brought flags and drums. They were wearing Mexican wrestling masks, though I didn't really understand why. One of my Mexican friends, who is also a Chivas fan, had no explanation for me. His brother, who is not a Chivas fans, said it wass because they are embarrassed to be rooting for Chivas and they don't want to show their faces. My curiosity led me to google it. Apparently, since Lucha Libre (the real version of Jack Black's Nacho Libre) is so popular, Mexican soccer players started donning the masks when they were celebrating goals - one player had his mask in his shorts for the whole game and pulled it out when he scored. He must have been watching lots of American football players celebrating touchdowns and needed to try to match the idiocy. The practice has now been banned by FIFA, but the fans have carried it on.

The New York Red Bulls won 2-0. I don't think this was because they were the better team, but more because Chivas didn't even show up. Chivas gave up on every 50-50 ball, they barely ran at all and only had one shot on goal all game.

This did not matter to the Chivas fans in the section next to us. They had huge banners and signs. They cheered and chanted and danced and banged their drums for the whole game. The chants had choreographed moves - for the first part they'd wave their arms, then they'd jump in place, then back to the arms. Honestly, they never stopped. I'm pretty sure that they were so sore the next day that they had to stay in bed. Even when their team was down by 2 and there was only a minute left in the game, these people were cheering away. It appeared that the excitement of getting to see their team play was more important than their team winning. That is pretty cool.

Next up - Mexico v. Egypt or Chile on November 12th at Chase Field. Imagine how big a group we can get if I start planning now. Who's in?

NO! I DON'T KNOW ANYONE WHO WANTS A DOG!!

The other night a girl said to me, "You're a dog person - you'll be able to help me. I need to get rid of my dog, do you know anyone who wants a dog?"

She got the first part right. Yes, I am a dog person. I love my dogs. I love your dogs. I foster dogs for the Arizona Humane Society. I take my dogs to obedience and agility. I take them to daycare. I read dog blogs. I obsess about dogs. Yes, I am a dog person.

And because I am a dog person, I have been asked the above question approximately 30 times in the past year. And the askers are truly surprised when I say no. I would like to tell them how many times in the past year I have been asked, "You're a dog person, can you help me find a new dog?": 1 time. Though the actual question was "Would your current foster dog make a good boat dog for me?"

Do people think that I keep a waiting list of people who can't find a dog, no matter how hard they look? There is no such list and the reason is because the number of unwanted dogs FAR EXCEEDS the number of available homes. A quick count right now shows 60 dogs available at the Arizona Humane Society, 36 dogs at Arizona Animal Welfare League, 299 dogs available at Maricopa County Animal Control, 34 dogs already posted this morning before 10 am on Craigslist and 78 dogs posted yesterday. That is 507 unwanted dogs available RIGHT NOW, just in the Phoenix area. I did not count the numbers of dogs in various breed rescues, smaller shelters and organizations like HALO and RESCUE, though there are many. Add to that the number of dogs available from reputable breeders, backyard breeders, pet stores (god help us) and yahoos set up in front of the mall with litters of 5-week old pit bulls. So, I can truthfully say that if someone is looking for a dog, there is an over-abundance of dogs out there to choose from.

I understand that because I am a dog person, people think I know other dog people and therefore I should know someone who wants a dog. But let me tell you something about the other dog people I know. Just like me, they have reached their capacity on the number of dogs they have time and space for. Dog people do everything they can for and with the dogs to whom they have committed themselves. We do not have the time or space to take in every dog whose original owners give up on them. Of the 15 or so other dog people I know, that would be 33 dogs we'd each have to add to our homes just to take care of today's unwanted dogs.

I understand that because I am a dog person, it is reasonable to come to me for information about dogs. Unfortunately these "do you know anyone?" people aren't coming to me for information, they just want to get rid of their dog. If they truly wanted information:
* I would gladly tell them about crate training (no, you don't need to get rid of your dog because he chews the furniture when you are gone)
* I will be thrilled to refer them a wonderful obedience program (no, you don't need to get rid of your dog because he jumps/barks/runs away),
* I would even make sure that obedience program is reasonably priced (no, you don't have to get rid of your dog because you can't afford a $1000 training program),
* I would more than willingly give them a bunch of information on how to get their dog started in agility (no, you don't have to get rid of your dog because he has too much energy).
* I would also love to give them information on doggie daycares and dog walkers (no, you don't have to get rid of your dog because you're gone all day).
* And I would even give them information on the steps required to turn your dog over to the Arizona Humane Society, though I'll be screaming inside my head, "A dog is a lifetime commitment! You made a commitment to that dog!"

And to sum it all up - If I did know someone who wanted a dog (which I repeat, I DO NOT), I would have them adopt my lovely foster, Scarlet. Instead, like all my fosters, I'll turn her back into the shelter and cross my fingers and my toes that the perfect family comes for her.