Ramone, My Hero

It was only a matter of time before a Ramone-inspired post showed its face. Ramone is my Beagley-Terrier dog that has filled my heart with love and satisfaction. He'll be two in September (September 11th to be exact) and he has been in our lives for a little under a year. As he grows, his space in my heart grows and I continue to be amazed at how lucky I am.

Things weren't always so rosy. After two weeks, I was ready to drop his whiny, anxious, nervous, fear-filled hind back to the Humane Society where we got him. I remember Joe telling me that I wasn't being fair. In my mind, the dog wasn't being fair! Didn't he realize that a broom was only a cleaning implement and wasn't used for doggie torture? Did he not understand that us humans had to leave the house every once in a while to live our lives and he couldn't always whine at the door for hours? Did he have to follow me every time I went to the bathroom? Pssshaw!

We enrolled him in doggie obedience classes at a place called Happy-Go-Lucky. Although uncomfortable and tense at times, this was the best decision we ever made for him. We all learned so much! I would certainly recommend classes to anyone who is struggling with their dog.

Ramone amazes me more and more every day. Last weekend, we went to the Sandy River Delta and he learned how to swim (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=G2Qx88On8gI 3:00-5:20 is the best part!). This weekend, I am taking him on his first ever camping trip. There are some things that worry me, but I know that he is a good boy, listens well, does not bark, and will behave himself to the best of his abilities. Or so I hope.

What I love most about Ramone is his personality and how at any given moment, he reminds me of a wide variety of animals. While learning to swim, he was a seal. While riding in the car and smelling all the smells through the window, he is a bunny wiggling its nose. While being extra playful with his dad, he is a mongoose that is hunting snakes. When being curious and at many other times, he is a cat who likes to tilt his head and stretch his body.

To us, Ramone is like our child. We shower him with love, care, exercise, food, and toys. I truly think of him as my child, which can be a problem when conversing with people who actually have children. They might say "Oh Madison is at that age where she will get into anything, so we have to have the baby gate up at all times" and I respond "Oh that's how Ramone used to be but he grew out of it and now I don't even need the baby gate".

Although I do want another dog, I don't want to upset the wonderful balance that life with Ramone has created. I would never want him to feel unimportant or left out due to another dog. For the time being, I think things can stay how they are and Ramone can keep his spot in both our hearts and on the bed, directly between us.

The Ups and Downs of a Bike Commuter

The title to this entry is silly, because I still don't consider myself a "real" bike commuter. I certainly don't consider myself a phony, but the whole idea and image of ME as a cyclist kinda freaks me out. I moved to Portland, one of the most bike-friendliest cities in the world, a year ago and have embraced bikes and cycling-related things in general. It was out of necessity, since I share a car with Joe (fiance) and he works much further from our house than I do. It had been nearly a decade since I was in the habit of tooling around on two wheels, but I dedicated myself to learning the rules of the road. Although clumsy and awkward at times, I have grown to be quite fast and find myself racing other bikers and sometimes even cars. They don't know that I'm racing them, but I pretend that they do. I have had one serious spill (asshole construction workers tend to put their damn construction signs in the bike lanes), countless flat tires, and one stolen bike light. Overall, it's been a pretty smooth transition into a new world that's experienced from the hard, unsquishy seat of a bicycle.

It amazes me what one notices while on a bike. The smells, good and bad, are much stronger. Tell me the last time you felt overwhelmed with the aroma of roses while in the driver's seat of a car? Being that I work in Old Town, which is home to both infinite homeless people and VooDoo Donuts, my olfactory glands hone in on the delicate mixture of hot dough and urine while pulling up to work. Now why would you ever want to miss that?!

Bike commuters also get to experience the outdoors in full force. Rather than the cool AC blowing in my hair, I have REAL wind tossing my tassels. Also, being that I live in Portland, I get to enjoy the 9 months of rain from the perch of my seat. After living through 8 months of rain, I finally purchased rain paints. I have worn them 2 times. They will be put to good use next season.

We recently moved to a new house, which increased my one way ride from 2 miles to 6 miles. It has been a challenge, especially since I refuse to wear "cycling gear" and choose to ride the 6 miles in my work clothes. Although I look like a major fool, with my slacks tucked into my socks, and sometimes in heels, it cuts down on prep time in the morning. For now, I will continue this way, but might make some changes in the future. Already too-tight pants become unbearable while hunched over handlebars.

So am I a true bike commuter? I suppose. The elements don't stop me from saddling up. I take my bike 80% of the time. I have a relationship with a bike mechanic. There is still something unsettling about thinking of myself as a cyclist. Maybe it's how I look in a helmet.

Welcome to Web Log World

Due to the urging and slight prodding of loved ones, I decided to start a blog. Blog. B-L-O-G. My hesitation must be in response to the word "blog". It's not a word that I frequently put to use, and frankly, I don't like how it rolls off the tongue. Is it possible that my annoyance and reluctance to engage in an aspect of social media is based on the way a word sounds? If that is true, then how much else have I missed out on due to disliking and purposely avoiding words? I can think of another example. I work as an Employment Specialist for a non-profit that helps all types of people with barriers find work. We can provide lots of assistance and support and pretty much anything that will make them more employable. Enter: Padfolio. Padfolios are those professional looking folders that are usually black, have some sort of closure, and space for a note pad, papers (usually your resume) and a pen. I have to admit, these do look great in your hand when walking into a job interview. I also have to admit, I HATE the name. Where did it even come from? What about "notebook" or just "pad"? Why does there have to be an extra "folio" that comes in from nowhere and leaves a bad taste in my mouth? Guess how many of my clients have received said padfolios. Zero.

During my search for an appropriate and simple blogging site, I discovered that "blog" is a mashed up version of "web log". There are so many untapped mysteries to the blogging world. In my opinion, web log is a fine alternative for blog, except that now every time I look at the words web log, my brain can't help but slide that b over ever so close to log and all I see is BLOG.

This experience will be a growing process for me. I hope to learn more about the internets and feel proud that I am trying something new. Also, my fiance (another word I am not fond of) is out of town for 3 weeks, and this could be a way to keep him abreast of my ever-changing brain patterns.

So the next question is, what to write?