Mmm, kibble.

Filo gnaws on her paws frequently. Is it simple grooming or is she's hoarding food bits in there?

I Was Abducted by Aliens

I'm missing about five minutes of my life.

I had just come home from class, relaxing on the sofa working on my embroidery, and watching Battle of the Reality Network Stars (really not so good, don't get sucked in). I made a knot, cut the floss when Filo started to bark furiously. So I get up and....who knows?! The next thing I remember is sitting back on the sofa, picking up my hoop and looking around for the little crane scissors, which are now missing. Totally gone. I picked up sofa cushions, looked under end/coffee tables and nothing. It's the weirdest thing. G. even looked around. If only I could recreate those moments between standing up and sitting down again, I might be able to find the scissors. Has anybody out there ever missed a couple of minutes? It's such a weird feeling--unsettling almost. Same chilly feeling as deja vu. Maybe theres something in those alien abduction stories.

I shamelessly finished all the Mega M&Ms (by myself) and am now jonesing for some chocolate. Just can't kick the chocolate habit. Instead of a "ranch tooth" (re: Wendy's current commercial, see photo above), I have a raving lunatic chocolate tooth. Instead of a cowboy hat, it wears a fez and demands all forms of chocolate at inconvenient moments, like 11 pm.

Mega M&M's, cont.

They really aren't so mega. I was expecting like peanut butter cup size. And I don't like the new colors. This does not mean I won't buy them again.

Mega M&M's: the Cutting Edge of Candy

I woke up early this morning. Correction, I stayed up after Filo woke me up for her breakfast and a pee break. Filo wakes up extremely early in the morning. She wakes us by gingerly making her way up to where our heads are, locating an unexposed ear, nose, or mouth, and then furiously licking those spots. And she's damn insistent--wave after wave of face licking no matter how much you try to push her away or hide under the sheets. It's both cute as all heck and infuriating. Then we remember that she's just a little hungry Filo. You can't deny her food, you monster!

My plan was to wake up and start my morning exercise routine. Ok, it's not really a routine because it has not occurred with any regularity for the past three months. Summer semesters started way too early to exercise, it was way too hot in the afternoon, and evenings were spent preparing for the next day lectures. Those are my extremely valid excuses for not exercising, don't ask any questions.

It's time to restart the program, so this morning I took the first key step of planning my exercise routine by writing out workouts. Now I feel prepared and ready to start tomorrow morning. Yep, fresh starts are key.

I hate this block I have towards exercising. I like the idea of exercising, I like how I feel when I actually am exercising, but (like flossing) I lose the habit way too easily and then have to start from square one. Two root canals cured me of my flossing laziness; does that mean I have to endure some sort of health crisis before committing long term to exercising? Or is my self-perceived lumpiness enough to change my habits?

By the way, Filo may wake up early, but after eating and peeing, she is awake a total of twenty minutes before settling down to fulfilling her nap routine.

Filo quietly demands her slice.

It's Friday!

So Friday still feels like a special day--an important day on the verge of something really great. So many good things usually happen on Fridays. Lately, those good things have encompassed eating out with G., buying random junk at Target (after spending a couple of hours debating which set of dishes we would buy if we were in the market for dishes), then settling in to a night of What Not to Wear, Talk Soup, and Best Week Ever (quality TV, no?) and of course Filo-pup. I remember when Fridays included marathon sessions at my favorite bar right after class. I cringe whenever I think of how much money I spent on beverages and bar food. Hmm, more on this later.

Classes resume on Monday. Last night I went to the mandatory faculty rally (it's not really a rally per se, but there is a lot of applause and punch and cookies, chocolate chip cookies, bastards). The usual announcements: enrollment is way up, counseling is available (for the students, not faculty--although that could be quite valuable....), turn in your syllabus to the dean, yada yada yada but wait! I got a whooping raise of $85. Ah, so little, yet what should I expect? As a part timer (and a relatively new one at that), I've got no authority. Can't even vote someone into the faculty senate, a governing body who is supposed to be representing all faculty, regardless of tenure or position. They don't even make any distinction between part timers like me and other part timers who've been there for years, I'm talking like decades. Oh, the injustice. I could go on...after all...I'm just a girl, with a master's degree, asking to be paid more (movie???).

I'm ready, though, I'm taking my $85 and marching into class on Monday, all ready to inspire and illuminate or at least make them pause, if only for a moment*. New semesters give off the same vibe as Friday's: something great just might happen. It might not (which describes the past couple of semesters) but it just might. Makes it worth it in a way.

Back to the thousands spent on bar beverages and cigarettes: I was listening to Miseducation of Lauren Hill on the way home from the rally. Man, I played the hell out of that CD once upon a time. It doesn't really fit anymore, but there are some inspiring bits here and there. That CD fits in with past Fridays in the same way as new dishes and TV nights fit my Fridays right now. Neither night is better, don't mistake this for nostalgia. "Everything is everything."

**Here is a recent moment where a student was illuminated after class lecture on Reconstruction, 1870's: "Miss, I was listening to Nelly and he has this lyric where he says, "Forget a pool, give me 40 acres and a mule" and I got it miss!" It's not perfect, but I'll take it.

A quiet little Filo moment

G: Vanessa, Filo's pretty.

V: Yes, she is, she really is.

Filo vs. Splenda, round 15

Yesterday's evening walk with Filomena started uneventfully. Filo gets so excited when its time for her walk. She watches G. and I like a hawk--following our every movement, especially when it looks like we're headed towards the closet where we keep the leash. At that point, she bursts into action and speeds around the living room. She can run really really fast and gets this glassy look in her eyes like she's no longer a domesticated dog. Instead she's reverted back to her feral state (try visualizing herds of feral bichon frises--it's pretty ridiculous). On the flip side, G. and I act out Three Stooges routines as we try to corner her for a long enough time to put the leash on (I think I'm Moe. It's not a perfect fit, but I'm a little bossy. G. is definitely not Curly, so let's say he's Larry.) Finally, we wrangle her to the floor, attach the leash, and out the door where she always takes a quick pee then strains against the leash as if saying, "HURRYUP! Theressomuchtosee, Iwanttogonow!" Has anybody watched a dog walk from behind? Filo's got the cutest little puppy nalgas that sway from side to side as she walks and skips ahead of us. Just another element that makes her the cutest dog ever.

There was a little breeze in the air and G. and I were in good spirits as we headed towards the mailbox. We turned a corner and there she was: Filo's nemesis, Splenda (some names have been changed to protect the innocent). We first met Splenda in January. She's a tan colored Chihuahua, but with really long legs like deer legs. Her owner doesn't put her on a leash, but it's not like Splenda's the type to charge anybody. Instead, she just stares at you like you're the one with really long deer legs. Splenda is also skinny and bony. Not really the type of dog who would be a good snuggler. Filo definitely had the advantage over Splenda when they first saw one another. Filo took the initiative and would usually bat Splenda's head around as I tried to pull her away. No serious injuries, of course, Filo just wanted to establish that she was the boss. Unfortunately, Filo lost her advantage last month when Splenda finally woke up out of her trance and charged Filo who totally wasn't expecting it. Since then, Filo is eager to retaliate, only we haven't let her get that close to Splenda. After all, don't want any dog to get hurt.

Animosity between Splenda and Filo extends to Splenda's dog mom and me (and G. He implies that its all in my head--whatever). First, Splenda is never on a leash, so she's free to pursue Filo as we're trying to restrain her. Second, I never see Splenda's dog mom with a plastic bag to pick up poo-poo. I sincerely doubt that Splenda manages to contain her poo-poo to right in front of her apartment. Third, Splenda's dog mom acts like she has no idea who we are although we've met (through dogs, but still) many times. Actually, now that I think of it, Splenda and her dog mom act very similar: both stare at you ("Why is that little white dog going after Splenda? Who are those people with the little dog? What's going on across the street?)

Back to yesterday's encounter: Sorry if I built up the tension, but nothing happened. It was a stand-off. We picked up Filo before anything could happen. Splenda's dog mom, of course, was nowhere to be seen.

The Splenda-Filo rivalry goes on. Right now, Filo is asleep on my bed (with her head on the pillow). I just know that her puppy dreams include running in the dog park, being fed carrot sticks, having her tummy rubbed, and kicking Splenda's skinny butt.

Coping with the Soccer Blues

I think I'm ready to talk about the El Paso Patriots.

The Patriots are the local soccer team that play in the Premier Development League which is two levels down from MLS. They had a great, winning season until this past Saturday when the Patriots faced the Des Moines Menace for the 2005 PDL Championship. The Patriots weren't quite in sync from the kickoff, but they were playing on a different field and against an unknown team. The Menace were only slightly better than the Patriots (any better and they would have won the game outright) and a heck of a lot taller than our beloved Patriotas. So many close calls through regulation time, no goals during the two fifteen minute segments of added time which meant PENALTY KICKS. Tied 2-2 until one of my favorites #23 missed (they shouldn't have put him in!! he's too young and not a striker). The Menace missed, then the Patriots missed their final chance to catch up and Menace takes the championship.

Who to blame? The Goalie who played so heroicly during regular time, but totally froze during penalty kicks? The two Patriots who missed their penatly kicks? The entire team for not playing like the awesome soccer players they proved to be during the regular season?

Who to applaud? I definitely say the El Pasoans who came out in the thousands to support the Patriots. I really hope they return next season despite the loss. And the Patriot players deserve recognition, too.

I was never into sports. Never, that is, until I started going out with Gabe and he introduced me to the world of soccer.Contrary to how most Americans think of soccer, there's something about the game that is so exciting, dramatic, thrilling. You've got great athleticism, drama between players and refs, enthusiastic announcers, and soccer hair (let's just say that highlights are very popular. And touched up weekly). Watching games on tv is one thing, but I also really like to throw myself into the Patriot games, especially chanting, working my tambourine, and heckling the other team. The other fans are awesome, too, especially the father-son team with the drums. I even feel like I'm missing something now that the Patriot season is over. I'll just have to turn all my attentions to the Mexican league and focus all my positive porra energy towards Club America! Vamos Aguilas!

Lately, I've been feeling a little blah. More than just the usual blues, but not deep set depression (at least I hope not). My first year of teaching was super stressful. That experience combined with the process of readjusting to my hometown and negotiating "adulthood" and just being a normal, good person and girlfriend. So maybe I'm a little on edge. Maybe a blog will be a good way to make some sense of me and, dare I say?, the world? Nah, I'm not that ambitious--at least about the world part.

This blog is about me as a Chicana twenty-something and what strikes me as funny and unusual. It will also include the adventures of an amazing little dog named Filomena. Her innocence and penchant for travesuras are endlessly entertaining and maddening. And a good amount of Gabe will be thrown in, too, because he's just super. I'm also planning to use this space for tidbits of fiction.

Hope you enjoy my entries and please make comments, hey why not?

Today is an unusually rainy day, which left me with no alternative other than to surf the internet and start a blog!