Nashville to Gatlinburg

            Though checkout wasn’t until ten (according to Mom and Karl… the sign on the hotel room door said noon, but whatever), mine and Alyssa’s phones were buzzing cheerily at eight.

            “Time to get up!” they read.  Mere seconds later, “Are you up, [sic] Kari’s flight has been cancelled because of a bird.”

            Ah.  So it all makes sense now.  Mom’s stress and feelings of hopelessness towards Kari’s situation of being stuck on the other side of the country had to be remedied by asserting control over the morning routines of her 20 and 17-year-old daughters. 

            “Give us an hour,” I text back, “Alyssa just hopped in the shower.  Obviously, I’m next.”  Putting my cell on silent, I rolled over and closed my eyes until it was my turn to prepare for the day

            Shortly after leaving our lovely hotel and all those blissfully soft pillows, we arrived at the Cracker Barrel for breakfast.  Not only was it loud and over-crowded (making my claustrophobic self freak out more than just a tad), but also the food was revolting, a fact which my younger sister didn’t hesitate to point out.

            “Don’t be ugly,” my mother chided.

            “The only thing ugly here are these pancakes,” Alyssa shot back.

            One bathroom whose quarters were terrifyingly close, two catnaps, and four hours later, we finally pulled into Gatlinburg, Tennessee.  The quaint tourist town was blanketed in an inch or two of fresh powder and looked every bit like the picture perfect place for a Christmas card, all decked out in holiday array.

            Upon our arrival at the cabin just at the top of one of the small mountains surrounding Gatlinburg (small as in Appalachian vs. Rocky Mountain small), we discovered our driveway had not been plowed and there was no way two vehicles without 4-wheel drive were going to make it down the steep grade.  Nonetheless despite our protests, my stepfather was determined to try.  Luckily my sister was smart enough to catch it on video.

Obviously it was an unsuccessful endeavor and now the SUV is stuck.  At least this meant the end of our mini road trip and Alyssa and I could finally set up the Christmas tree and watch Breakfast at Tiffany’s.

Day of Rest

Today is my first day off from school and work in two weeks.  FINALLY!  I slept in until noon, called my boyfriend just to chat, made some tacos for lunch, and climbed back in bed to play on the computer.
A wise, sensible me would not use this day in such a manner.  There is a dog to clean, a room to straighten, dishes to be washed, laundry to be done, and homework to get knocked out.  I'm just not that wise and sensible.
It's my day off, dammit!  I want to read for fun, write for fun, plan out my NaNoWriMo novel for fun, sleep for fun, watch television for fun, play World of Warcraft for fun, etc.
So often we get caught up in what we have to do.  "I need to go to school, I need to go to work, I need to make some money..."  Sure we do need to do these things, but must they always overshadow our desires?  Do we always need to be 100% responsible?  I say, "No!"
You may think it lazy, but I'm exhausted and don't care at this point.  Taking a break now will make me better able to get stuff done later.
I'm not even sure what I'm writing, or why I'm writing this.  That's OK, though.  I'm just having fun.  FINALLY!

Buying Lingerie

Last Wednesday, while toiling away at work, my mind drifted off on one tangent after the other.  Eventually, my sometimes overly-critical inner self focused in on my own personal shortcomings.  It was then that I realized that I, a woman just shy of 21 years, have never purchased anything, not even perfume, from that terrifyingly pink shop known as Victoria's Secret, despite having worked in the same building for over a year.
This shocking revelation caused me to pay even less attention to my job, and more to myself.  Why haven't I shopped there before?  Have I even been in to Victoria's Secret?  I had, but only briefly, in an attempt to make my grumpy boyfriend and shopping companion even more grumpy and uncomfortable.
After several painful moments of consideration, I realized the answer to my question: I am a wimp.  A nervous, self conscious, and easily embarrassed coward who can't even begin to bear the thought of what others who have no idea who I am might think of me.
I chewed on this sour bit of cud for the next few hours as I finished my shift.  Then, snatching my purple bag covered in bright, glittery beads, I headed towards Victoria's Secret.  My mission: to overcome my irrational fear and buy the most devastatingly sexy piece of lingerie I could afford.
The hike to Victoria's Secret seemed impossibly long, and I found myself staunchly resisting the urge to turn around, run to my truck, and never think of this moment again.  Every minute muscle twitching in confused frustration, I slowly made progress towards the store, periodically pausing to browse in less intimidating places of business.
Eventually I could no longer avoid my destination and, taking a cursory glance at the faces swarming around me to make sure no one I knew saw me enter that naughty, naughty store, I hastily stepped inside.
Upon entering Victoria's Secret, I found myself pleasantly surprised.  This was not the trashy store that supplied the wardrobes of countless bordellos that the church I grew up in always described it as.  No!  In fact, at first glance, I saw more sweat pants, tank tops, and perfume than anything else.  Even as I progressed to the deeper recesses of the store, I didn't find anything remotely startling.  Even the tiny cherry blossom pink and black French maid outfit seemed tastefully done believe it or not.  As my comfort level grew, I gradually began to take a closer look at the pieces I liked, eventually becoming bold enough to check the prices and, shockingly enough, cup size.
After spending a lengthy hour in this increasingly comfortable setting and declining the assistance of several very kind employees, I settled on a babydoll top of sheer black lace and pale pink trim and a matching G string for $38.
Overall, it was a pleasant experience.  After overcoming my initial fear, I found myself having a good time and surely appreciated the confidence boost I received by purchasing something sexy for myself.  To many, this may have seemed a trivial experience.  To me, it was one of momentous occasion.  Slowly, surely, I creep ever forward into my own self, remembering and respecting how I was raised, but no longer feeling fettered and restrained.

The Internet

Make no mistake:  I love the Internet.  The infinite opportunities to learn and explore totally fascinate me.  I am known to "waste" -- I don't see it as that, but others do -- hours a day simply messing around online, going wherever the Internet chooses to lead me.  Today I've learned about the recent happenings of my family via Facebook, considered both the ethics behind the death penalty and the power parents have to influence their children on 5/8, read some very interesting articles on National Geographic's website, hilarious misfortunes on FML, and tons of other things.
The only problem is that I'm supposed to be working on homework.  Today, I am supposed to write a reader response to "Cairo Tunnel" by Amanda Fields.  Then, I'm supposed to compose two lyric essays of my own.  Between my lack of self control and the various websites that draw me like a fly to a bug zapper, I haven't gotten anything done today.  
The Internet is a dangerous place for the would-be writer, especially when they are feeling uninspired to begin with.  I've written more in this short blog post than I have all day.  Too bad I can't turn this in.  It would fall into the creative nonfiction category, but this isn't a lyric essay.  Oh well.

The Bichon Frise and Why This Breed Rocks!

Let me start off by saying that I firmly believe that when one chooses to adopt or purchase a dog of any breed, it is a serious commitment and should not be taken lightly.  One should thoroughly research multiple breeds of dogs to decide which one is best for him or her.  All dogs deserve loving homes, but it is easier for both the dog and the owner if the owner has a thorough understanding of what to expect of his or her new addition to the family.

That being said, I believe the bichon frise is a great choice for a wide variety of prospective dog owners.  I have owned bichons for the last ten years or so, and they have by far outshone any other breed my family has ever had.

The pros:

1. Bichons are small, compact dogs.  According to Animal Planet, they can weigh anywhere from 10-16 pounds once full grown. 
2. They are very intelligent and easy to train.  I used clicker training with my bichon, and she caught on quite quickly.  Just be careful not to give the same sequence of commands over and over.  Mequa memorized the sequence ("sit, stay, lie down, sit, touch") and would go through the whole routine on her own before I could give the second command.  Of course, it didn't take long to cure her of this, but it was hilarious and endearing to see how eager she was to please (or perhaps get a treat).
3. Believe it or not, bichon frises are HYPOALLERGENIC.  In other words, if you are allergic to dogs, you probably will be just fine around bichons.  This is because they have hair, not fur.
4. Bichons also NEVER SHED... another big plus for the one who has a neat freak for a roommate.
5. Bichons are some of the most loving dogs I've ever met, and are content to do just about anything, any time.  Mequa, for example, is equally happy to play a game of fetch outside or sleep beside me while I read for hours on end. My other bichons were like this as well.  The main thing for them seems to be chilling with their mom or dad.
6. Bichons make great watchdogs.  You will not have to worry about any surprise visits from obnoxious relatives because the minute they set foot on your property, your bichon will let you know.  This doesn't mean they are aggressive or in any way a dog that should be used for protection.  They just make excellent alarm systems.
7. Bichon frises have wonderful temperaments and socialize easily with both humans and other animals.  It is important to note, however, that they should be monitored when with small children.  I say this more for the dog's sake than the child simply because small children don't always understand that they could be hurting their new friend.

The cons:

1. Though bichons have beautiful coats, they can be a hassle to keep up.  Unless you plan on brushing them every day, I recommend keeping their coats fairly short.  I keep Mequa shaved, partly because I don't have the time to brush her, but also because she spends a lot of time outside and the longer hair tends to bring stickers and cactus into the house.  Oh the joys of country living.
2. This breed is also prone to dental problems.  Unless you want your vet yelling at you for plaque buildup, be sure to brush your dog's teeth regularly and/or schedule routine cleanings at your vet.

As I said before, choosing the right dog for you is an important decision and a lot of thought should be put into it.  The bichon frise makes an excellent companion for both single owners and families alike. They work well in a variety of settings, spanning from a tiny apartment to multiple acres in the country.  If you ask me, I recommend the bichon frise 100%.

Mequa, my four-year-old bichon frise.