The Bathroom Scale

I have found the best running motivator yet - my bathroom scale. Yes, I said it . . . and I mean it. When I posted this on my Facebook status I got quite a bit of flack.

I am not a big person. I am fortunate that I have good genes (thanks, Mom & Dad) and, with one exception, have never had a serious weight problem. But, because of that one exception, I do need to monitor my weight and because of my job, I need to stay under a certain weight.

Well, it appears in the time I spent in Massachusetts working with my ensemble theatre company and living with my parents, I put on more pounds than is good for my job. Or my clothes. No, I'm not suddenly obese or even close, but you can't tell me that you don't recognize when you're not longer as healthy as you were. I don't feel as good. My clothes don't fit right. And I don't like the number coming from the scale!

I'm not complaining, really. I'm happy for the added incentive to get out and run. It helped me get out the door and run three mornings last week and start off this week with a run as well. And the number on the scale is dropping. Slowly, yes, but it's going in the right direction now.

I learned a lot about my relationship with food in my visit back East. My mother did most of the cooking for those of us in the company living with her. And if you don't know my mom, you don't know just how amazing a cook she is. Seriously. I joke that my mother is Martha Stewart without the jail time (or the attitude), but I am awed by her abilities. I learned that I love to eat fresh, home-cooked food. I learned that I need to control my portions of fresh, home-cooked food. And I learned that I need to be more pro-active in preparing fresh, home-cooked food for myself!

So, I have been good since my return. And I'm even more inspired now that I've read Mark Bittman's article in this month's Runner's World. I'm an ovo-lacto-pesce-vegetarian, so the meat thing isn't that big of a deal for me, but it made me look more closely at ALL the foods I typically prepare. And it only reinforced my desire to get more fresh food in my diet. So I've been cooking! And I'm really excited about a number of his recipes; I can't wait to try his Shrimp and Tofu stir-fry.

Now, I'm not currently in rehearsal for anything, but that's about to change. In less than a week, I begin directing Macbeth and I will be on campus more or less every weeknight between October 5 and December 6. WHEW. Not a lot of extra cooking time. However, I have told myself that at least one weekend day each week I would do some cooking. As for my meals while teaching and directing, I will be able to eat some leftovers and the rest of the time I can prepare salads, steamed veggies (I ADORE the Green Giant health blends - i.e. Immunity Blend, Digestive Health, Healthy Weight, etc.), and probably Lean Cuisine or the like. The last one doesn't thrill me, but those meals are fast. If I can plan ahead enough, I can use my crock pot some, too, and that will keep me from using packaged food.

So lookout Bathroom Scale! Between my running and my eating - well, not exactly RIGHT but certainly better - that scale can replaced as a motivator by maybe a race! And I'm already looking at two short ones to start.

Run Parade

On Saturday, I ran for the first time in ages. And I ran with all four of my dogs.

Yes, perhaps I am certifiable.

But after over six months off, I am determined to find a way to get running back into my life. So on Saturday, I decided to try running with my dogs.

A friend of mine said I must look like a parade coming down the street. He's not far off. I surely must look like one person trying to hold onto a Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade balloon on my own. Still, the dogs seemed mostly game so I decided to run again today.

It went better . . . and worse. We ran a longer distance which was good. And we didn't run any slower (frankly, I'm not sure that's even possible at this point and still call it a run and not a walk). But it's dark at 5:30/6:00 AM now and I hit a small rise going over a man hole cover and BAM! I hit the dirt. It was pretty ugly. I landed smack on the heels of my hand and a wound on my left hand, given by one stressed out Henry just yesterday, burst open. My knees are scraped and my wrists are sore. This was MOMENTS after we began our run. SIGH.

Well, I got back on the horse so-to-speak and off we went. My lab, Zoe, is a perfect running partner in that she understands where to run (just to one side and slightly in front of me) and generally keeps up with me (more on THAT in a second). But the others . . . oh, the others. Stella isn't half bad - she kinda understands to stay to the side, but she's easily distracted. Running with Bingley and Buster is like running with two leashed Tasmanian Devils. Seriously. They're ahead of me one moment, behind me the next, and criss-crossing constantly. It's funny, but I'm regularly having to untangle myself and their leashes.

Plus there's the stopping. Now Zoe is efficient and doesn't require a lot of stopping. Neither does Stella really, but of course she takes more time. Buster and Bingley have to hit every tree, stump, curb, signpost, streetlight, hydrant, bush, flowerbed, and other dog smell along the way. Something about that male need to mark the world. And it's ACORN season. Apparently that's a little dog's delicacy. Seriously. Bingley and Buster want to stop for EVERY ACORN on the route! And EAT every acorn. It's humorous, but annoying too. How am I supposed to get any real running done?

And then there's Zoe's motivation. Well, she's 12 so I can't blame her, but she really doesn't WANT to run much anymore.

So what's a girl to do?

Now that the new semester is into it's fourth week and I start directing in early October, there is just no other way to get a run in without running with the beasties. It's kind of opposite of running with the bulls.

At least I won't get gored to death. Maybe just bored to death.

New Digs

Today, I got checked out of my rental. So it's official: I am in my new digs! And looking forward to a full deposit refund.

And, I'm only one box away from being unpacked in my new house. All that is really left is putting away a few small things and hanging a few remaining items up. The movers (Two Men and a Truck) were wildly efficient on Monday and got me moved out in 4 hours. I have been either unpacking in my new house, or cleaning the old one since then.

Yesterday, after cleaning ALL DAY in 100 degree heat, I returned home, showered, and then poured myself a large margarita. I had seriously earned it. I sat outside on my new deck, dogs at my feet, and listened to my fountain and watched the wildlife in my new backyard.

The previous owner left a little Terracotta bird house in a tree, and I discovered yesterday a family of Chickadees have claimed it. I wasn't certain there were babies there until I walked over and saw one peep it's little head up. When I returned to my chair, I saw mama and papa busy collecting dinner and feeding the little ones. Their routine captivated me for the better part of an hour. I must now be watchful for the babies being pushed out of the home as I am quite certain my pack of five would be too interested in them for their own good.

The previous owner also left a bird feeder, which I need to clean out and perhaps find a new place for it, as nobody can enjoy it where it currently resides. The dogs continue to enjoy the yard and certainly our walks are prettier in this neighborhood.

However, I did get an interesting "welcome" from a man who lives near the park. Obviously, I'm quite a sight walking 5 dogs (and I grow more and more weary of the expression, "You've got your hands full!" I hear it at least once a walk. Enough already!). Well, this man pulled up in his car beside me and asked, "Are you an official dog walker?" I chuckled and replied that no, indeed, they were all mine. He then says, "I saw you walk by my house yesterday. You know, there is a city ordinance against having too many dogs." Excuse me? I had to bite my tongue to keep from saying something nasty. Instead, I just said that two were strays going to new homes in the future. Of course, only Taco is for certain going away . . . but I wanted the man to be on his way. What a welcome to the neighborhood, huh? I mean, I am actually doing this man and the rest of the city a huge service by taking in all these dogs, feeding them, walking them, socializing them, spaying/neutering/vaccinating them, and finding them new homes. So that man can just take his city ordinance and stick it where the sun don't shine.

On the opposite spectrum, there have been a number of very friendly folks who just marvel at the collection and enjoy saying hello. So, no complaints.

Now, if only Beatrice would adjust as well as the rest. I'm afraid she has made the master bath her home. Granted, it's bigger than my last bedroom where she stayed, but I am feeling badly. She appears content . . . so I guess the adjustment that needs to be made is mine.

So all is well here on Sunshine. More from my new digs soon.

First Night

Last night I spent my first night in my new house.

Perhaps I jumped the gun.

Yes, it has been over a month since I closed on the house. And, true, I have been dying to get in there. But the truth is, I didn't sleep well for a number of reasons.

First of all, all of the critters were spending their first night there, too, so they were getting adjusted to new sounds, smells, and spaces. The dogs did OKAY - woke me up at 3 AM wanting to go out, but otherwise managed pretty well.

The CATS are another story. I don't wish to enclose either cat in a small space . . . but giving them both full run of the house really meant Henry could be King of the Castle (appropriately named, he is) and Beatrice running scared into one of my closets most of the night. And most of today. There was a lot of growling, hissing, and spitting going on and I kept having to run interference so Beatrice wouldn't get attacked in the dark. Poor thing. I may have to rethink my plans. SIGH.

Also, I didn't have a real bed. I have ordered a new bed (which is to be delivered TODAY), but last night I slept on a blow-up mattress . . . which has a slow leak. I had to refill it twice through the night.

And, I appear to have contracted some sort of croup in Toronto because I cannot stop coughing. Seriously, that was the WORST part of my night. I just kept hacking away. I continue to try to remove a lung through my throat today as well and worry tonight, even on my new bed, will be a similar story.

And lastly, I forgot to bring my coffee maker over so my morning coffee was delayed by hours. NOT GOOD. Especially after a night of little sleep.

So I'm disappointed. Not because of the house - I am not experiencing a MOMENT of buyers remorse. I'm just plain exhausted.

Let's hope second night is better than first night.

News News and More News

Yes, I have been away nearly 4 months. I feel I have good reason:

I applied to, interviewed for, was offered, and have accepted, the tenure track position I was covering this past year.
I directed Oedipus.
I found yet ANOTHER dog.
I bought a house.
I went to Canada for two weeks.
I went to DC for one.

Yup. All that. Here are more details.

The job interview went very well. Come to find out, I had little to worry about in regards to my competition. Apparently, my competition looked good on paper, but was less than that in person. Of course, during the long process, I ended up being a finalist at two other schools. And that gave me some pause 'cause it would have gotten me out of the mid-west. But, in the end, I really like my job and the devil you know is often better than the devil you don't!

Once I made the decision to stay on, I decided to really commit to the idea that I was now a teaching artist and that maybe putting down some roots would be smart. Since I am one of the lucky ones to be gainfully employed in this crazy market, and since interest rates are low and housing costs low, I figured I would buy a house. Now, those that know me are probably surprised by this choice. I have spent my life being a gypsy and loving it. But with my pack growing and really committing to my new career, I decided this was the smart choice. I could build equity, get a great tax break, and finally stop renting places that were "fine" and live someplace I LOVED.

Well, I sure found it. I closed last month on a fabulous house built in 1934 with amazing updates. Here it is:










Of course, I haven't yet MOVED IN! SIGH. My life is just too damn busy.

But I am getting ahead of myself. I bought the house immediately after Oedipus closed. Oedipus was a good experience all in all. I directed it with a nod to the Greek traditions of masks and a strong chorus. It wasn't easy and it wasn't exactly what I had envisioned (I doubt much educational theatre is - not dissing educational theatre, it's just unlike a lot of professional work, the students are all working on different levels), but I thought it was a gorgeous show with a lot of good work in it. And it was fun. :) Here are is a link to a promo video - it gives you some small idea of the work: http://tadmedia.missouristate.edu/promo/oedipus.mov.

Of course, the revolving door animal house has continued since my last post. Annie was adopted by the Artist and Oliver went to an amazing home in Indiana thanks to American Brittany Rescue (after I took him through basic obedience - man I LOVE that sweet dog). Clementine, the kitty, is now Circe and living in DC with the Writer (who moved there due to a new job - awesome!). Taco, the chihuahua is moving to MD at the end of this month, but there is a "newcomer" to our pack: Mr. Bingley.











He's an adorable Pekingese and I am desperately looking for a good home for him. He arrived shortly before Oliver left for his new home so there was a time I had six dogs integrated into the pack. LOL. NUTTY! I am sure if I can't find a home for him I will work through a Pekingese rescue and he'll be placed quickly. I just like to find homes for these animals so I can keep track of them. Fortunately, Oliver's family is good about sending pictures and updates.

Now, what's left?

Oh yes, Canada. This trip actually fell in my lap when I was negotiating for the tenure track job. I needed to "re certify" my weapon skills and a group of our students were going to Fight Director's Canada for two weeks of intensive training and to test. So, as a "bonus", the University paid for me to go with them. All in all I'm very happy to have gone. I passed the certification tests (whew!) and that's all good for the tenure stuff. However, I am DONE with Hostels. Seriously. Never will be soon enough. UGH. But that's for another posting.

So, after my trip to Toronto, I got to see my nephew graduate as Valedictorian of his class in MD and then stayed a few extra days in DC. So that was a nice break. I enjoyed visiting with a few select friends and ate some great food. The best was for last when Boss Lady, her husband, the Hostess, and I all went to Brasserie Beck. Wow. GREAT beer (and I'm not generally a fan of beer), great food (awesome cheese plate), one of the best desserts I've ever had (a Belgian Waffle with blueberry compote and dark chocolate mousse - KILL ME), and fabulous company.

Now I am back in my little town; doing laundry and trying to figure out how I am going to move into my new home. SIGH. I'm sure I will figure it out, but I am impatient. I took the dogs over this morning to acclimate them and they were SO EXCITED. They romped all through the backyard and even explored the inside of the house. I will be keeping them out of most of the house for my own sanity, but it was good to let them check it out.

So that's it for now. I hope to keep up with the blog more regularly now that things are "slowing down."

It's good to be home.

Pied Piper

I guess I'm just going to have to accept it: I am the pied piper of strays.

Seriously. Shortly after I moved here, I found Stella and then 3 days later I found Buster. Though Buster went to another home briefly, he returned here and has remained one of my "permanent pack."

Then 4 months later I found Brimley. And a month after that, he went to his new home.

But the busiest season has surely been this past month. Three weeks ago, I found Annie and Oliver, as posted. Annie is getting closer and closer to finding a home . . . The Artist really wants her and as long as her boyfriend likes Annie when he meets her in a couple of weeks, Annie will be placed. Sadly, we're still searching for a home for Oliver.

Then last weekend Henry (my indoor cat) escaped the house and I couldn't wrangle him before I had to go to rehearsal. When I returned after 11pm that night, he wasn't to be found near the house. So, of course, I go looking for him, calling his name.

Behind my house about a half block, I call his name and in response I hear this very little "mew." Those that know Henry, my very talkative cat, know he doesn't make diminutive sounds. He's a man's cat! So I just called "kitty, kitty, kitty" and before I knew it a little kitten is running out to me. No, I'm not kidding.

Here she is:

Fortunately, I have a local friend who has been talking about getting a second cat since September, so I immediately checked in with her. As long as nobody claims this sweet girl (I'm calling her Clementine), she's going to The Writer next weekend. I'll be really sorry to see her go . . . she's the most affectionate, mild mannered kitty I've ever known. And as tempting as it is to keep her, I know she'll be better off with The Writer and my cats will be happier. Yes, I did eventually find Henry.

So I'm feeling pretty confident about two of the three current strays moving on by mid-March and that the household will calm down a bit . . . when Taco decides to enter my life. Yesterday morning, I'm out walking my permanent pack when we come across this little Chihuahua mix. I don't recognize him from the neighborhood, but that doesn't mean he doesn't belong there. He is, OF COURSE, without a collar . . . and very friendly. He comes right up to us and meets my pack. And then proceeds to follow us home. Yup. Every step of the way as if he belonged with us. All the way to the fence and into the gate.

Well, naturally I brought him inside, fed him, and gated him. I immediately checked craigslist, but nobody was searching for a Chihuahua. Not one posting. SIGH.

So I post I've found him and proceed with my day.

When I returned from work, he had jumped his gate and was hanging out with my pack. I guess they like him. But there were no phone calls from anybody looking for him. So I head back to campus for rehearsal and when I get home at my usual 11pm or so, lo and behold there are TWO messages!

I listen to the first, a friend of somebody looking for their Chihuahua, but the description is a little off. I listen to the second, the actual owner of that dog, and again the description is off. It's too late to call back, so I deal with the bedtime ritual of two packs and keep Taco with my pack. When it's time for bed, my pack falls into its routine (Zoe on her dog bed, Stella and Buster in my bed), and Taco makes himself at home on my bed, too. Yup. He's so integrated into the pack in one short day that he sleeps on the bed with no fuss from any other dog. In fact, he cuddles right up to me and spends the entire night next to my right shoulder.

So this morning, after dealing with dogs and cats, I call the owner of the missing Chihuahua. And sadly we determine that Taco is not her dog. SIGH. I'm bummed. He's a GREAT little dog. He's well mannered and very sweet. Surely somebody must be missing him! Here he is:

And I once again have a funny feeling that it will be up to me to place him. I don't think he'll be a tough one to adopt out. In fact, a good friend in Maryland has already said she'd love to have him. And a colleague knows a Chihuahua rescue in town . . . so he'll be all right.

So I'm currently caring for 6 dogs and 3 cats. My friends think I have an addiction. But I'm really not going out LOOKING for these animals! They quite literally show up at my house or follow me home. I really am a pied piper of sorts.

Curiosity Killed the Cat

Why do I do this to myself?

When the department administrative assistant e-mailed the interview itineraries for both me and the other candidate, I chose NOT to investigate the other candidate. I figured ignorance is bliss and I would be better off in my interview not knowing what I was up against.

I was right.

'Cause today I decided to investigate. And now I am convinced I won't get the job. This woman has a much stronger "pedigree", loads of professional experience, AND has been the head of her own area when she's been teaching. Her skill set is far superior to mind for what the department needs and I'm wondering how the hell I even made it to candidate. Oh yeah . . . by law don't the HAVE to invite the internal candidate???

SIGH. So I spent the rest of the day, beating myself over the head and convincing myself that I'd be leaving this red state in the middle of the country.

Not that that would kill me . . . or even disappoint me, really . . . but it does have an impact on my self-esteem. So my confidence level tanked just as I was preparing to start rehearsals for a HUGE show. Even my classes were a bit wonky today. UGH.

So just when I'm feeling especially low and tired (I was up at 4:30 AM with the dogs), I get the mail. I see a very slim envelope from another school to which I applied and, as I'm tearing into it, I assume I got the big SORRY.

Well, I'll be damned if I didn't make the first cut!!! Sure, this is by no means an invitation to campus, but I've been so worried I wasn't competitive that I had given up all hope any other school would be even remotely interested. Surprise! My paperwork is still working on some level. So that was a nice bright spot in my day.

That and my mom's valentine card. :)

So what is it about us that makes us do that which we know isn't smart, or good for us? I had made a choice to ignore the other candidate for this posting, but in the end, curiosity killed this cat. I just couldn't avoid the temptation. I just HAD to know.

This woman, at least on paper, ROCKS. And should the university here offer ME the job, I just may lose all respect for them. 'Cause if you compare us on paper, there's no question who should get the gig.

It kinda makes me want to go watch her teach. Yeah, this cat has a big problem.

Puppy Possessive

Today I had two people come to meet the dogs as potential adopters. One was The Artist and one was the roommate of one of my students.

The Artist has been wanting a dog for some time. However, her boyfriend moves in with her this summer and though he's excited about a dog, too, he wants her to wait so they can choose together. I don't blame him, but I told the Artist I would be happy to foster until he could meet the dogs when he comes to visit in March. She was really excited about Annie and though she couldn't promise me anything, said if Annie were still around in March that she'd bring her boyfriend by.

My student's roommate was a nice guy. No longer a student himself, he owns his own home and has a good job. But his house has no fence in the back and both of my strays need a fenced in yard. He originally came to meet Oliver, but by the end of his visit, he was more interested in Annie. Uh-oh.

Still, he needs to think it over and whatnot. Secretly, I hope he decides the timing isn't right. And I could put my foot down about the fence. I do hold all the cards, right?

It's funny . . . when anybody expresses a desire to meet the dogs, I experience relief and a little jealousy. I've only had these dogs for one week and already I'm a little possessive and protective of them. I know these dogs would make any number of people happy, but in my crazy brain I wonder how many people can really make the dogs happy. It's ridiculous.

Yup, I'm already attached. It doesn't take long with me. This morning I took Annie and Oliver on individual walks. It helped a lot and already I could see the different techniques that would work to train each one. I'm seeing a big difference in their behavior toward me as Alpha now and I am beginning to fantasize about how I could keep all five.

INSANE, I KNOW. You don't have to tell me. I am not stupid. I will continue to seek good homes for both . . . but secretly harbor a desire to hold onto them. And time will be the final judge as to weather they stay or go.

My head knows what is best for me, but my heart says otherwise.

Managing the Menagerie

Well, I survived the interview process. It was two long days, but all went well - even the "research" presentation. I'm exhausted, but relieved to have it over and now I can concentrate on other, more pressing tasks.

I start rehearsals for Oedipus on Monday night. I'm excited, but still scared to death. The design elements are all coming together and I'm really looking forward to working in a more "organic" way with the cast, but we'll see how it goes. The mask designs are stunning, I have a live percussionist, and the ensemble is buzzing about getting started. Still, I have a LOT of homework related to the project and will be spending much of tomorrow working on it.

And of course there is just keeping up with my regular work. I have a bunch of grading to do as well, but I have decided today is a day of "rest" after my crazy week. A bunch of us are going to celebrate a friend's birthday later today by seeing a movie and eating bad movie food. I can't wait. :)

But of course the most pressing task is dealing with the new strays. I am calling them Annie and Oliver - the only orphan names I could think of - 'cause they need to be called SOMETHING. They are sweet dogs, but have absolutely NO LEASH behavior so I cannot walk them. And I'm still needing to deal with them as a separate pack for now.

I went to Petsmart today as they were having an adoption event with three local shelters. I figured I could talk to them in person and hopefully convince them to help me out. Well, as I figured, they have no room to house the dogs, but if I am willing to foster them, they will try to place them for me. So . . . it looks like they're mine for the foreseeable future.

Knowing that to be the case, I sought out the dog trainer there and have set up a "private" session with her to introduce the two packs. I figure if they're going to be here for a while, it would be helpful to have them all getting along! We'll see how it goes.

Of course this mean two new visits to the vet and most likely I will be spaying and neutering them. UGH. My friend PhD suggested I just apply for 501(c)3 status just so I could take donations. Perhaps she's on to something.

And, should it take longer than I would like to place them, I may have to get them into obedience school. Seriously. They have a lot to learn.

Still, they're sweet pups and deserve a good life. I know they can make somebody very happy. And per lifestudent's request, I've posted some photos.

This is Annie.

This is Oliver.

Any room in your home and heart for these fabulous canines?

If not, I'll continue to manage the menagerie . . .

You Couldn't Write this Stuff

It is said life is stranger than fiction and considering my life in recent weeks, I would have to believe it. But I choose to focus just on this week for this post because THIS week, I have my job interview.

WHY are job interviews always ridiculous times for me? WHY?

Tomorrow I begin my on-campus interview for the job I currently hold. I have to, in a way, pretend I don't already have a working relationship with these people and go through the full, tradition, arcane, insane interview process. I begin at 7:15 tomorrow morning and won't really finish until 3:30 Friday afternoon.

In between, I have TEN "meetings" of some fashion, a "research" presentation (huh?), and I get to teach in front of the people who saw me teach last year. Great fun, isn't it?

But wait, it gets better.

The Universe appears to want to screw with me - or at the very least get my attention. On Saturday night, TWO (yes, I said TWO) lost or stray dogs just SHOWED UP at my doorstep. I am not lying. They just showed up. Naturally, being the bleeding heart animal lover that I am, I took them in. But it's more complicated than all the other strays I've taken in because, as there are two of them, they are their own little pack and as such I cannot introduce them SAFELY to my pack. So I am having to keep them separated.

In essence, I am having to do double the work.

It's a shame, too, because they are sweet dogs that just want my attention when I literally have no time to give it to them.

But wait, it gets better.

When I left DC, I left the house of my dreams. True, it was a rental, but it was a huge row house on Capitol Hill, with hardwood floors and exposed brick, a fenced in back yard with a deck, two blocks from a metro stop, and just a block and a half from Congressional Cemetery where I could walk my dog off leash. As I've continued to debate being in Missouri, I've checked in with the property management agency that leases that house to see if it was listed again. Sure enough, yesterday I discovered it was going to be free beginning in March. YUP. My dream house was free again!!! Granted, a little early, but available none-the-less.

But wait, it gets better.

I get home, and in my mailbox is a letter from my CURRENT rental agency. Even though my lease expires MAY 31st, they want to know by FEBRUARY 16th if I intend to stay another year!!!! WHAT THE *#$!?

So what do you think? Is the Universe speaking to me? And if so, what EXACTLY is it saying? 'Cause really, I don't think I can take another plot development.