Of Insignificant Importance

I'm getting rid of my blog for several reasons, but I'll just say it's because no one reads it anymore and I don't have the energy or want to write anymore. So, if anyone does wander by, so long and Merry Christmas.

When I was younger, I never really had the strong desire to travel. While my fellow classmates were ooohing and ahhhing over places like Africa, France, and Spain, I was quite cozy in my small town home, able to walk the streets of my humble city blindfolded and still find my way home. I had no reason to travel really. All of my family lives in Texas, none more than 1 hour away from me on. I had no friends that lived in exotic places, and even if I did, I would probably have convinced myself that it was too much trouble to visit them anyway. The first time I stepped foot on an airplane, I was 18 years old.

As I got older, though, I had more of an itch to go somewhere. Maybe not anywhere out of country, but somewhere—away! The opportunity came when I found out about a camp counselor position in New York at a place called Camp Pontiac. This search was a result of my new-found desire to want to pursue counseling as a career (and eventually led to me getting my Master’s in such a field). I felt like going was the right thing to do, and even though it scared the piss out of me, I was determined to break the roots that held me in one place and experience life for 3 months in a foreign state, all alone. My parents weren’t too keen on the idea (they had the same mentality as me: why travel when there’s no immediate need to?), but after a temper tantrum and some silent treatment, they gave in and I found myself packed and on a plane to New York.

Even though that experience wasn’t the best due to a bad case of bronchitis and homesickness, I did meet some very interesting and fun people, learned a lot about myself as a care-taker and leader, and even had my first real experience with people from Australia, Canada, and England. So, it began.

I started with a thirst for travel to more distant lands, and this thirst could only be satiated with a 13 hour plane ride and some exhausting jet lag. But why and how would I do this? I started making a list of my “Top 5 Places to Visit Before I Die”. They are as follows:

1. England
2. Italy
3. Australia
4. Ireland
5. Scotland

I became very interested in other cultures, and felt like I’d rather live in them for a few weeks than research them to get my information. I was, however, a newly graduated novice in a job that, while rich in experience, didn’t provide me the amount of money that such extravagant travel would necessitate. I was also crawling out of my skin at home and decided that moving out on my own would be Move #1. It seemed as though my plans for world-wide travel would have to be put on hold for, oh, say 50 more years.

Then came Huw. A strange series of events brought us together, and through sheer interest and, dare I say, attraction, we became a force to be reckoned with! Only, as you know, he was in London, and I in the Lone Star State. Honestly, the idea of me visiting over there popped in my head once or twice before we proposed it ourselves, but due to the circumstances under which we met, it seemed more appropriate for him to visit me first. And that’s exactly what he did. However, about 4 months later, I was on my 13 hour plane ride and was able to experience such jet lag that I could literally NOT keep my eyes open on the drive (on the wrong side of the road, mind you) back to Huw’s flat.

My experience in that single two week trip were indescribable. If I never am able to travel again, I will still be happy with the memories I made and things I saw with him. London was intimidating and extremely large, and even though I could never see myself living in such a city, I was overwhelmed by its ability to go from shady in one area, to exhibiting beautifully architecture in another. I loved Picadilly Circus, and that place we walked around when we were attempting to see The Lady in Black (I forgot what was called). The icebar, the Chicken Balls Chinese place, and our Duck Tour were also some of my favorite memories.

But it didn’t end there! Huw was kind enough to take me to Paris for my birthday, where we spent a day touring and eating and site-seeing. Then, if London and Paris weren’t enough, we visited Wales and its beautiful country and sea-side. In Wales, not only did we get to visit some beautiful places like Rhosilli Beach, but I also got to meet some quite enchanting characters (Curly and Tom the Swan).

Traveling through three countries in two weeks was amazing. Tiring, and I complained a lot of sore feet, but amazing. Since then, I have been experiencing that itch to travel again.

Today I found out at my work that they may want to send me to Quebec City, Quebec for a Drug Dependence conference. I would be most inclined to attend this conference because I have always heard that Canada is beautiful. It would be in the summertime (June), so I would be able to experience Canada and not freeze my hoo-haas off. Even though this would be a work-related travel, I really think I could get some good site-seeing in. Any suggestions as to where to go around that area?

How was everyone's Halloween? I was a pirate. Narrrrrrrhhhh.

Pictures to come from the party last night (hopefully). Here were a few characters in attendance:

There’s nothing I love more than a very rainy day.

I know this might sound weird, as people usually love bright, sunny, warm days, but not me. Here in the Lone Star State, we have ENOUGH bright, sunny, extremely hot days to last us forever, so a nice, cool rainy day is a rarity here (or so I think). I especially love when it’s like it is now: dark, raining, and me sitting at my desk at work with the blinds to the window next to me wide open. I even keep my office lights off so all that glows is the computer monitor. I can turn my head to the left and stare out my window at the rain coming down, and wish all I want that I was cuddling up with Bella in my apartment, with a blanket wrapped around me with a cup of hot chocolate (or tea, just for Huw).

I think many people would say I appreciate rainy days like this when I’m at work simply because I CAN’T be outside frolicking around and doing “things”. I disagree. I love rainy days whenever I can get them. When Huw was here in December of last year, we had an incredibly mild winter, so our days were close to what his summer days appeared to be. He can attest to the fact that I was complaining about this; I wanted dark, cooler, winterier (it’s a word) weather (although he was enjoying a break from that very weather in Merry Old England). And the craziest thing about this is that I’m a SUMMER girl! I love hot weather and the lake and the beach and wakeboarding and walking around barefoot and all that jazz. But I suppose I’m getting to the age where I would like to see more seasons here. I would love to see the leaves turn all those beautiful colors you’d see somewhere like Boston. Instead, here you see them one day, green and swaying in the breeze on the trees, then the next they’re dead, brown, and crumbling before your eyes on the ground. I would love to know what it was like to properly “bundle up” in December, to wear scarves and buy really bulky sweaters, instead of wearing a t-shirt and taking a sweater in case the nighttime gets chilly. I guess it’s give and take when you live in a place like this.

Anyway, it’s raining. Me likey. That is all.

I truly think your pet reflects the kind of person you are.

For example, I had an ex-boyfriend who really liked cats. One of his cats, his favorite in fact, was lazy, snobby when you first met her, but then pretty sweet and affectionate once she got to know you. He was much the same. He also liked to stretch a lot.

I think my puppy reflects the “true” me as well, but I’m not sure I like what I’m seeing! She’s very much all about herself. She wants constant attention and gets extremely jealous when you pay attention to someone else (so much so that she’ll barge in on any activity so she can be the main event). She’s mean at first, but when she realizes she’s hurt someone, she’s immediately remorseful. She disobeys everyone and barely knows the word “NO!”, and certainly doesn’t listen to her mother, even if her mom knows what’s best for her. She cries when she’s left alone, but is incredibly excited when she’s reunited with someone. She’s very ready to give out love, but only when it’s convenient for her. She loves to have her ears rubbed and can eat like a maniac.

Aside from her constant need to chew on clothes, shoes, and furniture, my dog is ME. My mom told me that she was happy I picked Bella because she said she could tell straight away that Bella matched my personality. I guess she and I will get along just fine. As long as she stops chewing up my good shoes and puncturing my hands, that is.

Okay, before y'all freak out and think i'm preggers or something, here's what I mean:

I got a puppy this past Saturday. Her name is Bella (which, apparently, is the name of every other dog in the world, GAH). She's a toy poodle, apricot/cream color, 8 weeks old, and the fiestiest 3 pound ball of fur you'll ever meet. I never knew how much of a "mommy" I'd feel like until I got her. See, my family had a poodle from when I was about 5 until I was about 19. She then passed away, but we had gotten another poodle in the meantime, so I've never really been without a doggie. However, these dogs have always been primarily my mom's dogs, as she was the one who took care of them the most. Having my own puppy, having something that looks at you and you alone for their well-being, is HUGE and scary. When I had to leave her at home for the first time on Monday, I couldn't eat and was sick the whole time because I missed her, I felt guilty for leaving her because I knew she was scared, and I was scared that she'd get into something that would hurt her. She survived her first day of me being at work, and hopefully with time, she'll realize that although I have to go, I'll always come back.

She's a little ankle biter, always chewing on something (mostly my toes) and let me tell you--those puppy teeth are SHARP! She is wonderful, though, very smart, and I can tell she's going to be a wonderful companion for me for a very long time. I'm already spoiling her and being *that* dog owner (with the car seat and the carrying purse...), but I wouldn't have it any other way. After all, to me, she's not a dog. She's my child!

So, here are a few more pictures for your enjoyment! Feel free to "oooh" and "ahhh" as you please.

As we speak, Huw is on an airplane, bound for over here, to spend time with me. I am super excited but also very tired, as I spend last night cleaning and putting fresh sheets on my bed and taking out the MOUNDS of trash I found as I was cleaning. Also, on Sunday, I vacuumed out my car and pull something in my back, and it's hurting like crazy. So, I'm not in the BEST shape for his arrival, but I'm sure all my aches and fatigue will disappear when I see him walking down that airport walkway.

Y'all should know, too, that this will mean for about 2 and a half weeks I won't be posting anything, unless, you know, I get a small window. Most of my time will be spend kissing and cuddling up to Huw; don't worry Curly, I won't post any pictures of the kissing ;)

So, I leave you with excitement and anticipation of his arrival, and hope he makes it through immigration with no problems. Fingers crossed!!