My dog, Stacy, is quite the little drama queen. I believe I've mentioned the fact that she detests rain, but lately she seems to have hit a level of over-exaggeration that even I have not yet attained. She likes to express how bored or lonely she is by flopping down to the floor and letting out a sigh, as if to indicate that she is resigning herself to the sad fact that no one really loves her or they would be playing with her.
The other day, we hit a semi-usual conundrum. She loves walks. Needs exercise, needs to go to the bathroom, and likes sniffing and seeing new things. She hates rain. Her hatred of rain always seems to outweigh her love of walks. I went to the mudroom to get her leash. It was raining outside. She probably heard it, but I'm not sure.
Usually, when I walk towards her leash, she begins to spin enthusiastically and wriggle with joy so much that I'm worried she may come loose from her skin. However, she merely lifted her head, stood up, took a few steps towards me, and looked at me with her head in the "I've done something bad and I know it" position.
I called her name. She walked a few steps forward, until she was at the edge between the dining room and the kitchen. I called her name again and wiggled the leash at her. She sat. Perhaps if I sit, she'll know I'm a good dog and I won't get wet. Unfortunately, I did not share this thought. I called her name again in my "I'm a stern mommy and I'm the alpha of this pack so get over here RIGHT NOW" voice.
She walked slowly towards me, and her expression and demeanor suggested that I was taking her outside so that I could skin her alive and leave her dying in the rain. We walked for less than a block before she had done her business. She turned around and pulled in the direction of home. I gave in. You would have thought she had just been told that she was in fact, not dying of cancer, and actually would live a long and joy-filled life.
My dog's complete aversion to the rain seems rather sad to me. Not sad in an unhappy way, just sad in a pathetic sort of way. She's part lab (or so we think) so it really seems strange.
Either way, I think she has some sort of problem with emotions that causes her to feel everything more intensely than anyone could even imagine.
Now I must be off to drag her around the block. It's raining. This should be fun.
Cheers,
-T.A.D.
Friday, December 24, 2010
Saturday, December 18, 2010
The most wonderful time of the year
Despite the fact that I hold no belief in any deity, and despite my disbelief in the nativity story (at least as it is most commonly told), Christmas is definitely, hands-down, my favorite holiday. People have said that I can't really be celebrating Christmas if I don't believe in the "Christ" part of it. But I strongly disagree. While I do hold a certain amount of cynicism near and dear to me, and I dislike the commercialism that runs rampant this time of year, I love Christmas, mostly because of what it stands for and means to me and my family.
I believe that people can celebrate the same "holiday" while allowing it to have a different meaning. I understand that while I'm not really celebrating Christmas in the sense that I'm not celebrating the birth of Jesus, but despite that, I refuse to call it by a different name. To me, one story that holds the most meaning for me is the story of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.
I love the Grinch. Come December, I probably watch the animated version at least five times. To me, it is a wonderful story that doesn't rely on Santa or Jesus. It's about the "true spirit of Christmas" and how beautiful it is. Take away the presents, take away the food, even take away the tree, and it's still there. I won't pretend that I don't love those tangible aspects of Christmas. But what I really love is the feeling. Being with my loved ones and enjoying their company and love.
Speaking of which, we are decorating the tree today, so I must sign off early.
Cheers,
-T.A.D.
I believe that people can celebrate the same "holiday" while allowing it to have a different meaning. I understand that while I'm not really celebrating Christmas in the sense that I'm not celebrating the birth of Jesus, but despite that, I refuse to call it by a different name. To me, one story that holds the most meaning for me is the story of The Grinch Who Stole Christmas.
I love the Grinch. Come December, I probably watch the animated version at least five times. To me, it is a wonderful story that doesn't rely on Santa or Jesus. It's about the "true spirit of Christmas" and how beautiful it is. Take away the presents, take away the food, even take away the tree, and it's still there. I won't pretend that I don't love those tangible aspects of Christmas. But what I really love is the feeling. Being with my loved ones and enjoying their company and love.
Speaking of which, we are decorating the tree today, so I must sign off early.
Cheers,
-T.A.D.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
The book report
I love books. I love reading, I love writing, I love words, I love the feel of paper, the smell of an old book. I have my parents to thank for this love, and, I suppose, the ease in which reading and writing came to me.
I think a major factor that lead to my bookworm passion was the fact that when I was a kid, we read books aloud. We were able to spend time together. We were entertained, and therefore somewhat quieter. We were encouraged to think and feel and react with books and characters. With my dad, we went through the LOTR trilogy, and of course The Hobbit. We read The Chronicles of Narnia (all seven of them). We read Ender's Game, and Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time. Just to mention a few. My dad exposed my sister and I to some pretty serious reads when we were kids, not even fully capable of understanding anything beyond the surface.
At my moms' house, we opted to find new books and new series. This is where I began the Harry Potter books. We made it all the way through the sixth one aloud. We also discovered the Artemis Fowl series, which I love. Simple enough for kids and teens who aren't huge literature fans, but witty and sardonic enough to wet the appetite of a feisty 18 year old as well. I still read them avidly.
While reading aloud has mostly been abandoned at my moms' house, I am proud to say that we have continued the tradition with my fathers. I ran my voice sore reading and The Hunger Games and Catching Fire, and we are waiting to finish the last of the trilogy, Mockingjay. If you haven't read these books yet by Suzanne Collins, don't wait, pick up a copy today. Now, in fact. I'll wait.
Even with totally comedic books like Nightlight, which is a parody of the Twilight "Saga," reading aloud can be much more fun. Last year I got a copy offhand at a Barnes and Noble, read it in record time, and then when I went to a party with a few friends, we stayed up until 4 in the morning passing around the book and reading chapters out loud to one another. The laughter and the fun was almost unbearably wonderful.
Anyway, these last two out-loud expeditions really illuminated how wonderful it is to share something like a book. You can muse about what will happen next, how the characters will develop. You can let yourself just listen (as I do so often with Jim Dale narrating the HP series in my headphones) and imagine seeing everything. I know some people think that movies made out of books are better. But they are wrong. (In my humble opinion at least) There is something so powerful about the written word, and I truly hope that power is never lost or underestimated.
Characters who can capture your heart, or imagery so powerful that you can close your eyes and truly believe you are at Hogwarts or in Neverland or outer space or Africa or ANYWHERE! These things are so wonderful and beautiful. To me, literature is something of an art form, when done correctly. You do have the portraits and the cartoons, and sometimes, just like in "real" art, there are cartoons that are better than portraits. I love reading aloud because there is no easier way to share your reactions and enter into another world with other people, at least in terms of bookworlds.
I can't imagine what my childhood would have been like without holding this tradition so nearly and dearly. Honestly, I can't even imagine what my NOW life would be like. There are so many series and authors and messages that I never would have found if they hadn't been read out loud to me. I don't mean to preach or anything, but next time you find a good book, I suggest curling up with your family or some friends, and sharing it.
Cheers,
-T.A.D.
I think a major factor that lead to my bookworm passion was the fact that when I was a kid, we read books aloud. We were able to spend time together. We were entertained, and therefore somewhat quieter. We were encouraged to think and feel and react with books and characters. With my dad, we went through the LOTR trilogy, and of course The Hobbit. We read The Chronicles of Narnia (all seven of them). We read Ender's Game, and Madeleine L'Engle's A Wrinkle in Time. Just to mention a few. My dad exposed my sister and I to some pretty serious reads when we were kids, not even fully capable of understanding anything beyond the surface.
At my moms' house, we opted to find new books and new series. This is where I began the Harry Potter books. We made it all the way through the sixth one aloud. We also discovered the Artemis Fowl series, which I love. Simple enough for kids and teens who aren't huge literature fans, but witty and sardonic enough to wet the appetite of a feisty 18 year old as well. I still read them avidly.
While reading aloud has mostly been abandoned at my moms' house, I am proud to say that we have continued the tradition with my fathers. I ran my voice sore reading and The Hunger Games and Catching Fire, and we are waiting to finish the last of the trilogy, Mockingjay. If you haven't read these books yet by Suzanne Collins, don't wait, pick up a copy today. Now, in fact. I'll wait.
Even with totally comedic books like Nightlight, which is a parody of the Twilight "Saga," reading aloud can be much more fun. Last year I got a copy offhand at a Barnes and Noble, read it in record time, and then when I went to a party with a few friends, we stayed up until 4 in the morning passing around the book and reading chapters out loud to one another. The laughter and the fun was almost unbearably wonderful.
Anyway, these last two out-loud expeditions really illuminated how wonderful it is to share something like a book. You can muse about what will happen next, how the characters will develop. You can let yourself just listen (as I do so often with Jim Dale narrating the HP series in my headphones) and imagine seeing everything. I know some people think that movies made out of books are better. But they are wrong. (In my humble opinion at least) There is something so powerful about the written word, and I truly hope that power is never lost or underestimated.
Characters who can capture your heart, or imagery so powerful that you can close your eyes and truly believe you are at Hogwarts or in Neverland or outer space or Africa or ANYWHERE! These things are so wonderful and beautiful. To me, literature is something of an art form, when done correctly. You do have the portraits and the cartoons, and sometimes, just like in "real" art, there are cartoons that are better than portraits. I love reading aloud because there is no easier way to share your reactions and enter into another world with other people, at least in terms of bookworlds.
I can't imagine what my childhood would have been like without holding this tradition so nearly and dearly. Honestly, I can't even imagine what my NOW life would be like. There are so many series and authors and messages that I never would have found if they hadn't been read out loud to me. I don't mean to preach or anything, but next time you find a good book, I suggest curling up with your family or some friends, and sharing it.
Cheers,
-T.A.D.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Hello hello
So, my life has finally slowed down enough to begin taking time for the little (and not so little) things again. While I don't have much to say today, I have a myriad of topics that have been sitting in the back (and front) of my brain, and so I have decided to try and breathe some life into this corpse of a blog and give myself a slightly less ridiculous goal. Between work, owning a dog, and an internship at an up and coming theatre company, daily posts are not going to be coming back.
But, I am going to start posting at least once a week, and this one isn't counting. I've also given in to pressure (mostly so that I can follow celebrities and be a stalker) and gotten a Twitter account. I'm rather wary about it, but... Maybe I'll get a few more readers this way. My username is "gettobizness" as in Get To Business. I hope people don't think I'm trying to say "ghetto business." Ah well.
I will be back soon with a real post.
I have missed this though. Hurrah!
Cheers,
T.A.D.
But, I am going to start posting at least once a week, and this one isn't counting. I've also given in to pressure (mostly so that I can follow celebrities and be a stalker) and gotten a Twitter account. I'm rather wary about it, but... Maybe I'll get a few more readers this way. My username is "gettobizness" as in Get To Business. I hope people don't think I'm trying to say "ghetto business." Ah well.
I will be back soon with a real post.
I have missed this though. Hurrah!
Cheers,
T.A.D.
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