Friday, May 25, 2012

My extraordinary inner-life

Isn't it amazing how you can put everyday, ordinary pictures to music and make life seem.... extraordinary.
My Dad has always done videography as a side-hobby, so I know first-hand about what this is like.... and some of the pictures make you think life is extraordianrily.....embarrassing!  I'm not ready to unveil those photos to the blogosphere...yet.

I've had moments, walking around, where it seemed like there was music in the air, or that I was actually watching my life, as on a movie-screen, from outside my body or something, because things just felt....special for some reason.  When I was a kid...the mundane of life - as it may have seemed from the outside- was actually an epic adventure on the inside...the swimming pool was an ocean (and I was a mermaid, of course), the garden my Dad helped me plant in the woods by the house was my, "secret garden," just like in the movie.  And....

I danced with my door....

Julie...seriously?....Yes. Its embarrassing, but I would pretend that the door was a boy....a prince...and I would hold the door handle like it was his hand and I'd sway the door back and forth as if we were dancing....me and the door of my heart.  I know....it sounds WAY cheesy, but if that was your little girl dancing with a door, you know you would video that and put it to music....making it extraordinary, and cute :-) Don't worry, I've given up dancing with doors and have danced with real boys since then....no princes though.

I'm the youngest of four.  Three older brothers and me...the little lady.
I was actually very much of a lady when I was a little bitty thing.  My Mom said I would only wear "spinny" dresses, tights, and "sam and libby" shoes.  The only thing that didn't qualify me as total lady were my haircuts.  Seriously...I didn't have ONE attractive haircut as a kid.

My Dad recently framed a picture of a little girl looking into her mirror and seeing Snow White in her reflection.  It hung in my room when I was a little girl and I had a Snow White dress, just like hers in the picture.  The only photo he could find of me wearing the dress was a family photo we had taken when I was probably about 5.  I told my Mom that I thought it was way cool of her to let me wear my snow white dress for our professional family photo.  I'm sure that I totally thought I was her...I was probably thinking...look at me, a princess with all of these commoners wanting to have their picture with me...that was on the inside; on the outside, I was just a little girl with a mullet haircut in a princess costume.     


My Dad blurred out the rest of the family so he could zoom in on me, my lovely dress,
my Mom, and great Granny....and, if you look closely.... my mullet
I also had an imaginary friend named, Jimmy Tootie.  I should devote an entire blog just to him...but just to give you a sneak peak about my invisible buddy, he wore green polka-dot tights (I guess I was watching a lot of Peter Pan when Jimmy came into my life ;-) He had long brown hair, and lived in a humungous bird's nest on the branch of a tree.  What? You think I  made him up!?  Well then how do you explain how I got the chocolates and Valentines from him in college?

...ok, so maybe my brother's sent them and signed it, "I'll always love you. Love, James Thomas" (My brother, Jeff, decided that the grown-up version of Jimmy Tootie should be James Thomas).... I have to admit, when I first opened the card...I might have wondered a little bit...ya know the same feeling you get when you are sort of questioning the whole Santa Claus thing, but then when you see the plate of half-eaten cookies and the empty glass of milk in the morning....part of you wonders ;-)  Its like that....except that I was in college, and perfectly capable of understanding these things...a psychology major no less - good thing I never shared any tidbits about my little friend with any of my Professor's...


Faith like a child...its such a beautiful thing....when you are a child.  After that, it tends to be defined as, insane.  But the biblical definition of Faith is like that....a little insane- believing in things unseen.  We all have faith in something, its just that our un-cool, grown-up brains are "too mature for such silliness."  So, instead, we watch movies about people who dare to believe in such things because we long to let ourselves believe like we did as kids.

The other day I went to lunch with my friend, Janet.  We were laughing because they gave her coffee in a Tazzmanian Devil mug and her personality couldn't be more opposite than that.  Then they brought mine in a princess mug...with all of the Disney Princesses on it!  I'd like to think God was trying to tell me something....well the boring grown-up part of me didn't, but that little girl in the snow-white dress did!  She's still alive and kickin' somewhere in there and I should probably let her out every once upon a time :-)

I've learned a lot from my Mom, but today I'm going to go with this lesson: If your baby girl wants to wear her princess costume in the family picture....by all means - encourage such behavior!


Thursday, May 17, 2012

..didn't sleep, but I made breakfast!


In the words of Bobby Lewis.....


Honestly, not a wink.  I feel like a Mama who's stayed up with baby....accept I ain't got no baby....or like someone who works the night shift at the Waffle House....nope, I have neither the excuse that there is a little one depending on me to live, or that I feed people waffles and grits in the wee hours of the morning.....I just could not sleep.  So because I feel inspired by the spirit of them hard workin' Waffle House ladies.... I'm 'bout to make me some eggs.

I rarely ever eat breakfast....but I am a HUGE advocate for breakfast eating, and today, I am gonna walk my talk :-)  I got these eggs at the farm around the corner, and the first time I pulled into their driveway, I almost ran over a chicken! They ain't lyin' when they call 'em free range. I've apparently taken on ain't and other slang phrases as acceptable words for this blog today...

I just came up with a new joke:
"Why did the chicken cross the road?"
....'cause that chicken was FREE RANGE!
Oh man...I can tell I'm probably going to later regret the sheer corniness of this sleepless-night, early-morning blog :-/

My Mom and I used to lay upside down on the couch with our heads hanging off because we heard, somewhere, that if you do that for 5 minutes, it has the same effect on your body as a 30-minute power nap.....I'm skeptical, but not above trying it now, before I have to head to class ;-)

Much love and farm-fresh eggs,
Julie
p.s. Don't ya just love oldies music?  Its the best.  If you are having a rough day, and someone puts oldies on...how can you not at least smile, right? I've always wished that I lived back then...when times were simpler and all the chickens roamed free :-)



Sunday, May 13, 2012

one day at a time.

That is what we say when we don't know what else to say, "Just take it one day at a time." When someone is sick with cancer, someone looses a spouse or a child...or is going through any difficult season...
Even though, many times, this is just our default answer, it is true, nonetheless.  More accurately it could be, "Just take it one millisecond at a time," because in reality, that is all we have- this millisecond.

It's always been challenging for me to live in the moment because I tend to be a "big picture" person.
but...
I would like to understand what it is to be sustained daily...I mean, I know that I am being sustained because God is giving me breath in my lungs, but I don't know that I remember that most of the time.  We may think, sometimes, that we are invincible, but in reality, we are so very fragile.  The intricate way in which our bodies even function or survive is miraculous in itself.

I have thought about this recently as I recover from my long battle with an eating disorder.  I have put such a strain on my body, especially my heart, and there is nothing different or miraculous that I have done to sustain myself, that would cause me to still be here... when so many others are not.  About six months ago, I came across the website, www.somedaymelissa.com - I'm not even sure how I found it.  Melissa died at age 19, from a heart attack - brought on by her bulimia. She had always dreamed of being a filmmaker, and in her memory, her Mother and Counselor made a documentary called, "Someday Melissa." After purchasing and watching the documentary on my birthday, I realized that, beyond sharing the same struggle, Melissa and I share the same birthday, we both have a brother named Andrew, and she actually only lived less than two hours away from where I do. I had the honor of meeting Melissa's mother at a showing of the film at a college about 15 minutes from here.  Though nothing could fill the void in her heart from loosing her daughter, she told me that it was healing for her to know that Melissa's story was making a difference in at least one life.

Here is a short trailer for the Someday Melissa documentary:


Whether you subscribe to it being God or not- something is sustaining us.  I believe that something is God.  I mean.... I believe its the oxygen that we breath in, the water that we drink, and the food that we ingest, but something is holding this whole thing together.  I mean... I believe its gravity, the earth's rotation, the sun, moon, and stars, but something is allowing this all to continue...right?

I'm not trying to evangelize anyone or get into a creation vs. evolution quarrel :-) I'm just thinking out loud....typing out loud.

I don't know that I, honestly, have enough ability to trust for the next....ten years, five years, week, or even the next day...but I think I can commit to trusting that God will sustain me for this millisecond, and that His grace is enough.

One of my brother's, Andrew, is going to sign us up for a 5k in Brooklyn and I know I couldn't commit to it if it was a marathon....or even a half-marathon....I'm not even sure I'm ready to think of the whole 3.1 measly miles that is the 5k...but I think I can commit to the first step...and then the next, when it comes - because that's all I know I have anyway. Right now.

Sending my love to you... in this millisecond,
Julie

Saturday, May 12, 2012

Ordinary evenings

I'd like to say that every day is an adventure to blog about, but some days are just filled with the sweet, familiar ordinary. Last night I went on a spontaneous bike ride.  It was going to be great...I just got my bike fixed and I was going to ride along the trail...between the canal and the river (one of my favorite spots to bike ride)....


 The sun was setting, the weather was nice, and when I got down to the river, I was suddenly surrounded by friends....well, that would have been great, but really they were un-wanted friends....gnats....a bazillion of them - seriously one ba-zillion of them.  I had wondered why there were barely any runners or bike-riders on the trail on such a lovely evening...I decided to tough it out and deal with the gnats because look, it was so pretty out:


I literally rode the whole way with one hand steering the bike and the other covering my face and swatting at the little guys as they flew straight into my mouth and eyes....which sorta ruined my scenic route.  I rode pretty far down the trail, then decided to turn back because I thought maybe they wouldn't be so bad if I rode away from the water.  So I made my way back to town and came across this little carnival....and the SCARIEST RIDE IN THE WORLD.  I used to be able to ride all kinds of roller coasters and carnival rides....no problem...so brave, but NEVER the pirate ship ride.  I remember riding it once and laying in my bed that night feeling like I was still swaying back and forth....I don't know why, but I just can't take this ride...I'd rather bungie-jump, or even skydive, than ride the dreaded swinging pirate ship!

yikes...my stomach jumps just looking at it!

I sang at Ladies Night - with my dear friend, Kathy - at church tonight and when I came home, I was so hungry.  When I saw the pizza stone in the sink, I was hoping there would be some leftovers for me. I was delighted when I opened the fridge to find two pieces of pizza with these sticky notes on them:

"Mushroom and Onion"
"you don't want this"

My parents had been kind enough to warn me not to eat the piece that, I'm sure, my Dad piled with anchovies and God knows what other kinds of little hairy fish!!! It made me laugh a little that they labeled it, "you don't want this," instead of just "anchovies" :-)



I like to be old-fashioned and my Grandmother told me that, back then, they used to tie their hair in rags and sleep in them for a nice, wavy look in the morning!  I decided to try an updated version of this...with socks.  I saw it on youtube (which is not so old-fashioned :-) You just tie your wet hair up in socks, sleep on it, untie the socks, take them out...and vuwalah....perfect hairdo....right? not so much.
Sometimes it turns out more like Medusa snake hair :-/

I was trying to take a picture to show you my crazy Tina Turner, sock hair.... after I cropped out the rest of the frizzy nest, and then changed it to black and white...I felt artsy so I thought I'd share my wannabe artsy-ness with you....

I call it Cousin It: a self portrait :-)

Well, don't worry - I'm fully expecting the next few days to be an UNBELIEVABLE adventure of AMAZING, blog-worthy experiences....If not, then I guess I'll have to video myself sky-diving or something...oh gosh OR I could make a promise to document myself riding the dreaded pirate ship if nothing else incredible happens?
Oh Lord, please...please send something.

Much love and ordinary evenings,
Julie











Wednesday, May 9, 2012

love and duty

I'm going to try and make this a shorter blog because I really want you to take the time to watch the clip below (about 9 minutes).

I watched a movie today and there was a quote from it that stuck out to me.
A Nun was speaking to a woman who said that she was staying with her husband, who was a Doctor overseas in the middle of an epidemic outbreak of Cholera, because it was her duty.
This was the Nun's response:

"...I fell in love when I was 17....with God....a foolish girl with romantic notions about the life of a religious...but my love was passionate.  Over the years, my feelings have changed....He's disappointed me, ignored me.  We've settled in to a relationship of peaceful indifference...the old husband and wife who sit side by side on the sofa but rarely speak.  He knows I will never leave Him- this is my duty, but when love and duty are one, then grace is within you."  

I loved her honesty.
Maybe some of you are not as flawed as me and have never felt disappointed or ignored by God...but I have, and King David did....and lots of others too.  Loving God is not a matter of perfection, but a matter of sincerely flawed, human devotion and a God who keeps His vows.

Being a foolish, romantic girl myself, the thought of, "peaceful indifference," that the nun describes, makes me ill- but I get it.  Life can easily come to this.  Relationship with God can easily come to this...but I have to believe that, though my devotion can sometimes be fleeting, He is not indifferent about me.

Then, I opened my email and saw that a friend had sent me the link to this clip, (you may have seen it on facebook already, but for those of you who are not connected to the social network...like myself...here it is :-)


I cried from beginning to end at this display of the faithful love of God. This made me think even more about the Nun's quote because Larissa really seemed to embody the picture of both duty and love...and I imagine that the only way she would have the ability to love this way is through the grace within her...that comes from God.

"He who finds a wife finds a good thing, and obtains favor from the Lord"

Monday, May 7, 2012

My 3:00 a.m. friend

You know those people you can call at 3:00 a.m. because you're having a rough night and are in desperate need for the familiar voice of a friend. Well, if I'm having a night like that, I know I can scroll down to the "B's" in my contact list until I get to.... Bean.  Others call her Christina...or Chrissy...or Tina....but to me, she is Bean. The more I mention my friends in blogs, the more I realize how prone I am to giving nick names....

I always expect Bean not to answer so late or, if she does, I think it will be in a groggy, half-asleep voice, but this is not usually the case.  Most of the time, she picks right up with a prompt and alert, "Julie-pants!?"  This is her name for me...I'm not sure how that even started...
She is a Princess- and she almost didn't get the chance to live her life. Just the fact that she is here to pick-up my 3:00 a.m. phone call is nothing short of a miracle...


Bean is an abortion survivor. Rarely do we get the opportunity to put a face or a life to what was going to be "just another abortion statistic," but here she is...my friend Bean, and I can't imagine life without her.


Bean and I in black and white
Bean and I are black and white....literally and figuratively...She's African-American and I'm just plain ole' Vanilla ;-) OH MY GOSH.... I just realized that together we are: Vanilla Bean!!! (The most un-boring type of Vanilla ice-cream out there!) Beyond our ethnicity or our ice-cream flavor, we are also black and white in the way we think...all or nothing kind of people...we like to have ANSWERS...something concrete....a cause, or a love to give ourselves fully to....needless to say, we are not fans of the undefinable gray matter in life. Unfortunately....most matters in life seem to be inexplicably gray :-/

Bean's a fighter...for what she believes in, and for the people she loves. I can't even count the times I have woken up to her on her hands and knees praying or crying out to God at any hour of the night.  We've had many adventures together all over the great state of Georgia and beyond.

I remember the first time I saw my little jumping Bean...lets just say the first impression was misleading.  I walked into the room where "Christina" sat, quiet and poised, in a chair with her straightened hair.... Little did I know, on the inside, she was an afro-wearing-fireball of a lady! :-) Don't let her small stature fool you...(even though it fooled the lady in the grocery store, who wouldn't give Bean a sample because you, "have to be accompanied by a parent if you are under the age of 13!")  This happened to us at a Publix when Bean was 28!!!  


I have a memory of one of the more difficult days of my life...and it was pouring down rain and I walked into Bean's apartment completely soaking wet and in despair.  I sat down on her floor and she just held me like a Mama would, or like a sister would (I don't have sisters, but I guess sisters do this?  If they don't, then they should). When I first met Bean she wasn't so much of a "hugger," but I've seen her grow in love and grace over the years and watched her precious heart open up.  She gives me hope.                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                     
That's what I'm talkin' about!! If I could fro it out like that you know I would!
One time I used Bean's shampoo and when I got out of the shower and my hair was matted down to my head and not looking so hot....I realized that I guess the bottle actually meant it when it said, Shampoo, "for women of color..." not for women of no color, such as myself ;-) 
Thankful is not even the word to do justice to my feelings about God intervening that day in the abortion clinic- not just so that I could experience what it is to know her and to love her...but for Bean....that she has been given the chance to live....to grow....to make mistakes...to dance....to write....to worship....to laugh out loud....to sob hard....to fight battles...to learn trust, to have faith, and to love and be loved well...

Thank you God, for allowing Bean to have the chance to experience the struggle and victory that is- this life.                                                                                                 
Thank you Bean, for all that you are.....silly, passionate, loyal, hopeful, caring, child-like, beautiful you.

...And thanks for picking up the phone for me.
Love you friend.

Sunday, May 6, 2012

Pioneer ladies and waddling babies

Sometimes I forget about patience.  Sometimes I think patience is staying calm when you have to wait in line at the Starbucks drive-thru.  I find that patience can be a little harder to come by here in the Northeast.  It is difficult to order a piece of pizza in N.Y. or a cheese steak in Philly without getting yelled at for taking up so much time....especially for an in-decisive, southern girl like myself that has the AUDACITY to ask if they have whole wheat bread ;-)
It seems easy to forget about patience in our super-speedy western culture.  A wise woman was teaching me about patience and trust the other day.  My sweet "second Mama" back in Georgia, Rosalind.  Ros, as we call her, has been through so much in her life, yet remains to be one of the most trusting and loving people (who makes the best chocolate chip cookies IN THE WORLD).  She has truly learned to love God beyond life's circumstances.  Trusting and waiting on God is not easy, but I find that He doesn't get frustrated if i ask for whole wheat bread! AND...He knows that I actually mean, Organic, sprouted whole-wheat bread...and He is STILL not frustrated ;-)  
He's alright with things taking a little longer, because He is much more interested in the process than He is the destination.  When you watch a toddler walk for the first time, the waddling they do to get to your arms is the best part...and when they fall, you are patient, because the process is so precious. I like to think that this is how God is with me...because I tend to do a lot of falling as I waddle along through life.

It was hot out yesterday in P.A.
Nothing like squeezing lemons to make fresh lemonade on a day that reminds me of summertime in Georgia :-) So I made some...yum.  Its hard work being a pioneer lady ;-)


I'm not actually such a pioneer lady, but I know a pioneer lady. Although, I HAVE been getting raw, organic milk at a nearby farm and making my own cheese!  I haven't quite mastered it yet, but I'm working on it.  My pioneer friend would probably be embarrassed if she knew I wrote about her in my blog, so I won't mention her name....we'll just call her Laura Ingalls Wilder...hehe that's the only well-known pioneer lady I could think of.  I just have to say- this lady is pretty amazing.  She's the kind of person you'd wanna have around if another Y2K scare creeps up on us....hmm with it being 2012, maybe I should try to persuade her to come on up to my neck of the woods! ;-)

She raised her family on the mission field and I guess she picked up some really neat skills along the way.  When I lived in the house with all the girls in Georgia, (with the two pups that I mentioned in the last blog), Laura Ingalls Wilder was one of my house-mates.  The girls had the neighbor til up our whole back yard so that we could plant a garden.  We grew cucumbers, watermelon, okra, black beans, peppers, black eyed peas, tomatoes, basil, cantaloupe, honeydue, corn, edamame, carrots, strawberries...and I'm sure some other things that I can't remember.  It was pretty fun to be able to cook from the backyard.  I remember that sometimes Laura Ingalls Wilder was able to make a WHOLE ENTIRE MEAL out of the front and back yards!  She discovered that there was this plant called, "poke," that was growing wild in the backyard, and she knew that if you cooked it, it was similar to spinach. So she made a meal out of the crops from the garden, poke, and wild mushrooms from the front yard....amazing :-)
She is so handy.  When walking in the house, I would be like, "hmmm where did that basket come from?" And someone would respond, "Oh, Laura Ingalls Wilder weaved it out of some crab-grass from the yard." That kind of comment always had the power to bring a smile to the crummiest of days :-)

I would love to be more like Laura Ingalls Wilder, or her two daughters, who are equally as lovely and pioneering :-) 
.............................
I just woke up in the middle of the night and decided to finish this blog.
I awoke with a lot of anxiety.  I have lived most of my life wrestling with the love of God.  It's always been really difficult for me to receive it....or even believe it. If I, being an extremely flawed human-being, would never scold or shame a toddler for falling while learning how to walk....how much more would a loving God, abounding in mercy and kindness, gladly extend his hand to pick me back up again and encourage me to keep waddling.    
You know how when sometimes things just seem to hit you later?  Well, my friend, Shu (pronounced "Shoe")...yes, that is her name - at least that is my name for her - wanted me to play this song for her youth group a while back. I wasn't able to do it, because I was going through a lot at the time. I recently came across the song again and when I listened to it, I just cried and cried and prayed....and cried....repenting and feeling like I was returning to the Lord after a long time of feeling too hurt, broken, or ashamed to reach out to Him.  You know what though, the feeling part of the repentance doesn't usually last and I am quickly back to loving other idols or seeking water from cracked wells, but I aspire to become steadfast....like "Mama Ros," no matter the circumstance of life...to love God in times of plenty and in times of lack...in sickness and in health.
I think this takes patience. Patience and trust.  These are things we grow into....or things we waddle into :-)

It's good ole' Jimmy Needham again...Clear the stage....an amazing song (thanks Shu :-)
Please, if you've read this far, listen to the song. 



Much love and freshly-squeezed lemonade,
Julie




Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Dogs...Julie's best friend?

Yesterday I had a few blog-able memories flood my brain and they ALL had to do with my very interesting run-ins with...dogs.
I've really been wanting to get a dog lately....A lady at school says its because I'm 27 and my baby clock is ticking so I'm in need of something cute, little, and fuzzy....its an interesting theory :-)
BUT if that were the case....I'd just get myself a rock pet.....LOL REMEMBER ROCK PETS!!?? Or is it Pet Rocks....
Either way, if you ever had one...or saw one...you know EXACTLY what I'm talking about.  What a rip-off, right? Just like pogs! (come on, can I get a witness!?)....little paper circles that you would stack and try to flip...I'm not even sure of the game, actually!? It's just another example of a cheap toy for kids- just like when kids enjoy playing in the boxes their toys come in, instead of the actual treasure.
They used to sell rock pets when  I was in elementary school.  Literally, we would beg our parents for the money to buy a rock with a piece of fuzzy hair stuff on it....and glued-on eyes...UNBELIEVABLE...
Here is a pic of one if you are not familiar with their species (I'm pretty sure they have gone extinct in our electronic age):


Please....if you have children, do not go out and purchase a Rock Pet for them! Save your money....and just go outside, get a rock and glue some things on it, or draw on it...OR....actually....hmmm.... maybe I could have my own Rock Pet business! (I do need a way to financially help me get through school ;-)
Wow I'm getting so many ideas that I'm not sure if this blog is going to turn out to be about dogs at all!
Just let me rabbit trail for a moment...
I'm thinking of ALL sorts of things that could be cool and buy-able.....if rock pets are cool and buy-able...It is a great way to make money off of useless things! 
For instance...Mud ball.  Yes, mud ball.  I will just roll up mud into a ball, let it dry, and paint it black and white like a soccer ball and sell it.  OR, shoelace bracelet...self-explanatory, right
So, back to dogs...

I always wanted a dog growing up....always.  Unfortunately we only had cats - which I am severely allergic to (The first cat was, "Scooter," who my Mom ran over with the car, the second cat was, "Miercoles," who was named in Spanish because my brother was taking the language in school...and she showed up on a Wednesday.  Miercoles died of lung cancer....please explain to me how this happens?). I'm not trying to be a cat-hater...but they did have a tendency to make my life a bit hell-ish at times :-(


One of my first memories with a dog was when my best friend and I (probably around 8 years old), were riding bikes from my house to hers and we were attacked by the neighbor's German Shepherd, Blue.
Then there was Snuggles.  Snuggles lived across the street in a pretty big fenced in area around a tree-house, but he was never, ever let out.  So after they gave me permission to come and take him on walks...I thought of him as my dog :-)  Here are the main things you need to know about Snuggles....he was FAST and his breath was unimaginably smelly.  So I would let him out, and after a few record-breaking loops around the yard, I put the leash around him and gave him a candy cane....that's all I could think of to do in my little kid brain....so I broke up little pieces of candy cane and fed it to him...unfortunately it didn't help much.

So lets jump to College...this is where things started to go downhill for me. Oh, good ole' Woodstock.  Woodstock was a Weimaraner.  I am familiar with "Weimars" because there are three in my family now, and my sister-in-law's family breeds them in Kansas.  So my roommate, Woodstock's owner, was obviously a hippie, but she's one of my favorite people and Weimar's are one of my favorite type of dog....what could go wrong?
Well, Woodstock wasn't the most disciplined dog (example: I was in charge of a prayer ministry in college and had orchestrated an all-night prayer and worship meeting at the Wesley House.  Woodstock somehow managed to break the METAL pillar, that he was tied to, off of the house and freaked himself out enough to flee the scene....and I flee'd the prayer meeting to walk the streets of Milledgeville to look for him. He was found 3 days later...still alive and kickin').  He grew to be pretty large for our tiny apartment.  He became our third roommate.  I didn't mind taking care of Woodstock when my roomie occasionally had to stay late at class or something....after all, I always wanted a dog.  We lived in a pretty ghetto apartment complex....I hesitate to even call it a complex...oh man, "Elbert Court," that is another blog all together.  Anyway, we didn't really have a yard, so Woodstock would poop in the parking lot....I know...disgusting, right?  Also, he ALWAYS made it a point to pee on our neighbor's doormat on the way to the parking lot (and though they were some our best friends, they were not dog-lovers).  So one day, after arriving home from class, I walked in the door to the apartment....and if smells came in color, this would have been a heavy cloud of putrid green smoke that collided with my face, knocking me back, as I entered the room.  I couldn't walk any further.  My body's immediate reflex was to turn away and slam the door behind me... 
So I went to our (not-so-much-dog-loving neighbor's....with the pee-infested door mat, to just have them come over and share in the insanity with me).  When Amy and her sister, Beth, came over...they were laughing SO HARD and I, being the lady that I am, was holding back cuss words....
My roommate and her dog had left for the weekend so I was puzzled as to what/when/where the stench could be coming from!?  We all knew it...MY ROOM.  So once we narrowed it down to my room....we eventually narrowed it down to...MY BED....and when I took the covers off to find...no stain, nothing but an AWFUL SMELL in a DEFINITE place, I turned over my tempeurpedic mattress topper to find a dull, brown stain that had been repeatedly wiped and unsuccessfully masked by any, and every, cleaning solution!
Seriously?  You have GOT to be kidding me.  Nope, it happened.  My roommate had come home from class to the green putrid cloud and when she found that HER dog had pooped on MY bed....she tried to wipe it off and instead of telling me about it....she just TURNED MY MATTRESS PAD OVER TO HIDE IT!!!!
Oh my, I could go on for blogs, but we must get to the next story so that this post doesn't take a lifetime to read...(I've never been good at leaving out the details :-)

Ok, so after college I lived with a bunch of girls and two little dogs that I grew to absolutely adore....and one adored me, but the other obviously thought that his little poodle-self was my pack leader, because he cocked his leg from the couch to pee on my back as I was sitting on the floor.....TWICE.  
So one time, when my roommate was out of town, I was taking care of the sweet little pup and the prideful poodle.  I had a friend visiting and we decided to take the pups for a walk around the neighborhood...as we had done many, many times before....with no twilight-zone incidents. So here was the chain of events, in 3rd person:

Julie and Kelly are walking pups.
Julie and Kelly hear the scream of a 6-year old boy and turn to see a pit-bull (that seriously looked like it could have been on National Geographic with its wild eyes and bulging muscles) CHARGING AT US.
Julie remembers the few things she has learned from watching, The Dog Whisperer, and decides it would be worse to pick up the pups because then the killer lion-dog would come after the humans.
So Julie rises to be the tallest 5'3" she can be, and tries to play it cool.
The dog approaches and stops for a second....they sniff....they wait.....the poodle gives a tiny growl and the pit-bull attacks the other, less dominant mut, (I know....how could you get less dominant than a poodle, but she was the female...so she was)
Pit-bull has entire dog in its mouth...seeming to tear it to shreds.  
6-year old boy, (Pit-bull's owner), approaches sobbing and exclaiming, "Oh no, its happening again!"
Great....a serial killer dog.
In a sheer adrenaline reaction, Julie starts pulling the neck of the Pitbull, trying to get him off of the little pup...no luck....so then she tries to hit it on the back to make it loosen its grip...nothing.  
When all hope seems to have disintegrated, the pit-bull bites through little pup's collar, accidentally setting her free, and miraculously still alive......she bolts.  
In shock, Julie tells Kelly to take the poodle and go try to find the little pup.  
Pit-bull starts to leap after them when Julie, (in another adrenaline reaction), grabs the pit-bull's collar and yanks it back.  
Pit-bull looks up at Julie...no joke...with part of little pup's flesh hanging from its mouth and she says in, hardly a dog WHISPER...."BAD DOG!"
Pit-bull's face turns sad and Julie tells 6-year old boy to go get parents.  
She is in shock as the realization creeps up that she is now alone...just her and National Geographic Lion Dog.  
She looks down to see her sweet, whispy white skirt unintentionally tie-dyed red with dog blood. (seriously...this happened)
Julie, not being the type of person to be rude, has a moment of weakness and fails to hold back when parent emerges from the house walking at the pace of a snail towards Julie and killer-dog.
Julie later feels awful when she finds out that this was the boy's grandmother who, because of health problems, couldn't walk any faster. 
When Grandma, 6-year old boy, and killer dog are removed from the scene- Julie runs home (feeling like she is in a horror movie with her blood-splattered, white skirt...running through the neighborhood)

So.... long story short, little pup had actually run straight home and howled on the front step until other roomies heard her and came to her rescue by washing her wounds to assess the damage.  Little pup had to be rushed to the emergency animal hospital, where she would receive stitches, staples, and major doggy drugs....but she was alive, thank God.  
Julie, after recruiting a guy friend to come help.... calling animal control, police, then animal control again....had to endure this comment when animal control finally came out.... on police orders. Think of this in your best country accent:
"Ma'am, we don't do animal on animal fights....if one squirrel were attacking another squirrel, would you call me?  No. We only do animal on people fights." 

Now do you understand why many of my life experiences seem to be blog-worthy?  This night was traumatic enough, right? Then Animal control Joe equates the events of my horrifying evening to a squirrel fight!?
No words.  Except there are words...and I just shared them- so I hope you could laugh, as I did, at the AFTER-funniness of the chain of events :-)


I still do want a dog, but maybe... in the mean time... I should stick to Rock Pets...


Standing tall,
The Dog Whisperette