Float On

I decided to give the anti-sensory tank a try in lieu of a massage a few weeks ago after I'd heard about it on the radio and did a little homework on it. I made an appointment with Zen Blend in south Austin (Zen Blend is tucked away in a neighborhood off Slaughter Lane). When I saw the set-up I thought my claustrophobia would get the best of me. Of course, I'm always up for a good challenge. I went in for an hour and a half.

I felt like I was climbing into a submarine as I pulled down the hatch closing out the daylight and the rest of the world. A slight waive of panic came over me as I lowered myself into the pitch darkness. The air was thick, warm and salty and my breathing felt labored. I couldn't clear my head. So far, the float was not as relaxing as I'd hoped and I couldn't believe I'd signed up for 1.5 hours. But, the salt water felt like silk and the soothing music pumping through the underwater speakers helped me fight through and focus my attention elsewhere. The realization of the pitch darkness no longer frightened me but rather intrigued me. I floated staring upward at the top of the tank and winked and blinked and closed my eyes always to see the same thing. Nothing.

By the time the music faded away so had my worries and I fell into the deepest state of relaxation I've ever experienced. The complete silence allowed me to hear the beating of my heart and the heaving of my chest sending me deeper into my subconscious. The only noise was the occasional splashing of water against the metal sides of the tank. The echo danced through the air and reminded me there was no cell phone ringing, no text alerts, no questions to answer or problems to solve. I might as well be floating in the middle of the Dead Sea lost to the world. It was an out-of-body experience I desperately needed.

I'm always the girl on the airplane that falls asleep and does that crazy jumping thing where the arms flail around or the book gets thrown in the air and startles my neighbor. I never fell asleep while floating, but I did my crazy jumping move four times. It was incredible.

If you need to get away and don't have time for a day at the spa, you can take it down a notch or two in a floatation tank. Of course, do it after work when you can keep the phone on silent and spend the rest of the evening in your own little world. Does it replace a great massage? Not a chance. But I discovered closing the hatch to the world and floating, suspended in weightlessness, does a body good.

Sniffing Out a Cure

From L to R: Jo, Sadie, Dionne, Brittney, Quentin

Sadie and I joined Gap, Inc. a few weeks ago for the annual AIDS walk.  I don't remember what the official name of it was, but Sadie and I were under the impression it was a one mile walk. Turns out, it was a 5k.  For the first mile I thought Sadie could smell the cure at the front of the pack because she was bobbin' and weavin' through the masses trying to get to the front.  This was her debut into Austin's super-social canine scene and she loved it!  There were hundreds of dogs (all shapes and sizes) participating, but people just couldn't get enough of my little Sadie. You'd think she was Frank the Pug from all of the attention she was getting.

It was a good thing so many people wanted to hold Sadie, because after she passed the half-way marker she fell off the curb from exhaustion and spent the rest of the walk cradled in the arms of me, Dionne, Crystal and some random chic (I think she was walking with her co-workers from a local hair salon).  I had to keep an eye on her, though, she looked like she might pugnap sweet Sadie.  After the walk Sadie and I went to Panera Bread to refuel.  Sadie sat perched in her chair and enjoyed an apple while I had my sandwich.  We then went to this cute little pet store and I bought her some pupcorn for participating in her first 5k.

Thanks Crystal and Dionne for inviting us to join.  And, thank you Gap Foundation for playing such an active role in our community!  Are you looking to hire a marketing genius to help out with your operations in the UK?  If so, look me up!

She's BACK!

It's just not Halloween without Bad Mithy. And, since I'm not throwing a party this year, the least I could do was give her a little face time on the blog. Happy birthday you old wench. Thanks for the memories.

It had to be you.

It seems like all great writers have a dedication to a beloved pet that has passed on.  I'm not a famous writer (yet), but Leo was a ninja pug that brought me joy for 12 years and deserves a few words.

I've been calling Leo my shadow, but he was more like sunshine...and not only mine.  He belonged to anyone that ever met him because he gave a little piece of himself to each and every life he touched.  And, no, I'm not just talking about the hair.  It sounds crazy, but Leo truly was a connector; he could command a room and monopolize the conversation.  Leo never met a stranger he didn't want to hug (often times followed by said stranger asking me if they were getting humped by my dog).  If you've ever had a Leo hug you know how much love was wrapped inside.

It never mattered how tight the squeeze, Leo always found a good place to curl up and snuggle. My friend Jimmy called Leo and Sadie 'Buttfart #1 and Buttfart #2'...They kinda look like it in this picture.  That makes me smile.  Jimmy also called them snuggle monkeys.  That makes me smile even more.  If there was a national 'snuggle competition' Leo most definitely would have been the champion.  Of course, if there was a national 'loudest dog snoring competition', he would have won that as well.

My mom basically shared custody of Leo with me.  He loved being at her house when I traveled; except when it rained.  Look, he was too embarrassed to even face the camera.  Poor Papa!

Leo never passed up a good time. He was always the last man standing at all of my parties. Even if there wasn't a party and I was just on the computer working late; Leo never went to bed without me.  We turned on the porch light and locked the house up side-by-side for 12 years. I think he did that because he knew he couldn't defend me if something bad went down. Leo wouldn't be able to fight the urge to hug the burglar to death.

Leo was up late partying with me and friends the night before he was taken from me. I've been so sad, but Leo was the James Dean of pugs.  "Dream as if you'll live forever.  Live as if you'll die today."  How can I be sad when I spent 12 years with the coolest dog on the planet?

Thank you, Leo, for your love, devotion, adventurous spirit, gentle nature, comic relief and a lifetime of memories.  You're no longer my shadow, but you'll always be my sunshine.  I love you.

I left my liver in San Francisco

Listen up, Tawanda!

I love you, BF.

I'll make sure to bring back fun stories of San Francisco and post them for you.  In the meantime, you'll be proud to know I stayed in all weekend and gave 'my temple' a rest.  Too bad my liver moved out last weekend - it would've enjoyed the R&R.

People...Please get a f^cking clue!

I bought a $400 language software kit online the other night. I was thrilled when I opened my front door this evening and saw my UPS package on the doorstep. I'm gonna learn French!!!

I ran into my office and tore the box open and popped the DVD-ROM into my Mac and opened the instruction manual. Okay...Let's see...Configuration Requirements. PC or compatible.

F^ck.

I'm a Mac user. Mac Book. Power Mac G5. Only a Mac user.

Now what?

*******

I just read the fine print on their website and it's there. The system requirements are tucked away, but they are indeed there...in black and white. I've accepted the fact this is my own fault for not doing my homework...But WHY? Why would I need to check that? Why isn't everything Mac compatible? Why do I need to own a PC to learn French?

When are these multi-million dollar companies going to spend a few bucks and develop Mac compatible versions of their software? Isn't it obvious that Mac users are willing to spend more money on a well-made product than a PC user? The people who say they "hate Macs" are the ones who don't want to part with the cash it takes to own one. Either that, or they're idiots. But, I digress. I'd be willing to bet that the company who consistently catered to the Mac user would be more profitable than their category counterpart who didn't. (Feel free to prove me wrong, but don't expect me to pay you anything more than lip service).

Now, who wants to lend me a PC so I can learn French. S'il vous plait?

The student becomes the teacher....

I just finished up defensive driving.  I won't get into how ridiculous it was and how many hours of my life I'll never get back...that's a whole other story.

I was working off my third speeding ticket in 9 months.  I swear, it's not me.  Okay, well maybe the first one was.  It was Texas v OU weekend in Dallas and I'd played too hard at a pre-party the night before.  I was hung over driving to a wedding (no, I still haven't forgiven Clue for getting married on such a sacred day) and got lost in the play-by-play action.  I'm told I was driving 65 in a 35...and it was a construction zone...and there were workers present.  I wouldn't know; I wasn't paying attention.  The cop confirmed that info when he scoldingly told me he'd been chasing me for 2 miles with his siren on.  And, I was lucky he didn't take me to jail for "running."  Oops.

Now, for the real problem and reason I say it's not my fault.  There's a sting operation in my neighborhood.  Do you realize how embarrassing it is to get a speeding ticket for driving 40-mph from a cop on foot carrying a radar gun?  Have you ever been "waived over" while sleep-driving to work and presented with a citation?  It took two speeding tickets and being waived over a third time before I came up with a sob story that resulted in a warning.  Anyway, I digress... 

The student became the teacher today.  I began teaching my nephew to drive this afternoon. Our first lesson was short - a quick trip to the convenience store for a case of beer.  A few close calls included a police officer watching me load beer into the car with an underage boy behind the wheel and almost rear-ending a black jeep at the railroad crossing, but mission accomplished. 

Cheers.  I think I'll have another.  and another.  and another.

One of my favorite views...

I do. Wait. Never mind. I don't.

I found out this afternoon that Sally* has been giving 75% of her monthly income to her husband Bill*.  She gets do to "whatever she wants" with the other 25%.  Apparently, she has to pay for the privilege of being married to the douche nozzle.  Am I the only person that has a problem with this???

Perhaps I'm jumping to conclusions.  Let's dissect the facts. 

1. Bill is a doctor
2. Bill moved his practice and lived away from Sally for several years and left her to take care of everything while he was away
3. Sally mails a check to Bill each month (He just moved back...I wonder if she'll leave the cash on the night-stand now).
4. Oh, did I mention it's a disability check and she keeps a whopping $500?
5. Really?  Do you really need to hear anymore?

I guarantee Bill never discussed this arrangement with Sally pre-wedding.  She would've realized what an SOB he is and left him at the altar.

Bill, you suck.

*Names have been changed to protect the lame and the innocent.