help us help zoink!

So, we adopted this little puppy named Zoink…

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He’s the cutest boy in the world.  He was born in Los Angeles in January with Type II Congenital Lateral Elbow Luxation; or, in plain English, dislocated elbows.  He was brought to the Downy shelter up there, which is a high-kill shelter that Labradors and Friends Dog Rescue of San Diego works with to get dogs out, rehab, and re-home them.  I found out about Zoink because my friend agreed to foster him while he was getting medical treatment.  My friend is in the Navy, and she had duty one Saturday, and a five-hour watch.  She asked if we could watch him, and told us that if we wanted, and if he got along with Spud and Isis (our Chihuahuas), we could continue fostering him because her schedule changed and she wouldn’t be able to do it anymore.

I was hooked the moment I saw him.  He was SO TINY!  Five pounds and seven weeks old, he was the cutest thing I had ever seen:

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AND… he got along with the dogs.  Well, kind of.  He was smaller than they were, so they were okay with him because they were in charge, so I took that as a win.  That was on February 22nd, and he’s been with us ever since.

In March, Zoink had his first surgery to pull his elbows back into place and pin them there.  We visited him on March 9th to see how he was doing:

He ended up being cleared to go home, but his pins migrated a few days later, and he had to go BACK into surgery to fix them.  That time, he was at the animal hospital for a whole week before we could bring him home, and practice standing:

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Soon, he was out of his casts and into a tube sock that I cut down and slid over his legs to keep his elbows in:

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And soon, he was standing…

And then, on March 31st, he took his first steps by himself…

Now he’s 45 pounds of pocket-pit bull, and he’s still as cute as ever:

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Unfortunately, he’s still in pain, and he needs to get his elbows fused in order to relieve it.

I have set up a GoFundMe account: http://www.gofundme.com/h495x0 for donations.  This surgery is going to run us $10,000, and we could really use some help 😦

I also had some 2015 calendars made of Zoink growing up from about 7 weeks to 9 months, they’re really adorable and would make great gifts for any dog lovers you know!  If you want to purchase one (or more!) please use the form at the bottom of this post.

 

I hate to ask you all for help like this, but if you could find it in your heart to help our boy live a pain-free life, I would be eternally grateful.  Happy Thanksgiving to everyone, I hope you all have a wonderful holiday.

PS: Zoink has a Google+, a Facebook, and a YouTube channel, check him out for more!

some people just don’t get it

I wanted to wait a while before writing about this, because honestly, it’s been just too painful to think about.  The girl who threw my bachelorette party decided one day, out of the blue, that she would block me on Facebook to let me know that she didn’t want to be friends anymore.  No text, no phone call, no explanation, nothing.  I texted her and asked why she blocked me (the way I found out was that I found a funny story I thought she would enjoy, and when I went to tag her in it, her name didn’t show up, so I asked my husband to look her up, to see if it was just me or if she had deleted/disabled her account.  It was just me.) and she told me that I was a negative influence in her life, and that she didn’t need it.

Wow.

Some people.

So here we go: I understand that it’s not easy being friends with someone who has major depression and anxiety disorders.  I understand that I’m not always the easiest to get along with and can be a hot-head.  But apparently this whole thing happened because I wasn’t grateful enough for the bachelorette party (that sucked), and because I didn’t go to her birthday party after my bridal shower.  I was having dinner with my mother whom I see once a year, and my maid of honor, who is also my sister-in-law whom I hadn’t seen since Christmas of 2012.  I’m sorry I missed your last birthday in San Diego.  I’m sorry my sister-in-law set our bridal shower for the same day you were having your party because it was the only break she had between her business trip to Dallas and flying back home.  This girl sees her family… I’ve got to say at least monthly, because they always seem to be down here (hell, they were apparently the reason she had to leave my bachelorette party early, because they just drove to her house, assuming she had no plans, and called her when they couldn’t get in).

I didn’t even know she even cared that much, because she never bothered to call or text to find out when/if I was still coming.  The way she puts it, she was pining at the door all night like a dog left home alone, and I know that’s not what she did.  That’s not her.

I’m pretty sure she was looking for excuses to dump me as a friend, which is pretty stupid, if you ask me.  If you don’t want to hang out with someone, don’t!  You don’t have to be all dramatic about it and drag it out!  You don’t agree to be a bridesmaid, attend their wedding, and then a month later tell them to fuck off!  I can’t even look at my wedding photos or watch my video because she’s in everything.  I can’t even put together an album, or submit my wedding to blogs, or enjoy any of that post-wedding warm fuzzy feeling because I’m so pissed that she’s this selfish and immature.

And she is.  I may come off as selfish, but it’s mostly because I have strong opinions and can just be arrogant sometimes, but I’m anything but selfish.  The night I missed her party, I was going to lose either way.  I was either going to feel like crap because I was missing her party, or feel like crap because my sister-in-law was here and I wasn’t spending time with her that I should because I never see her.  So I made a choice, and I chose family, and apparently that was the wrong choice, in her eyes.  So fuck it.  I have no interest in having to coddle and baby some chick who can’t get her own shit together, and who I’m pretty certain harbors a lot of jealousy toward me (at least according to several friends and family members, who offer up some good points).  Don’t be jealous of other people and what they have and where they are in life.  Treat them as mentors, make your own damn goals, and do whatever the hell you want.  I’m sorry that I got married before you.  I’m sorry that I was able to pay for a gorgeous wedding and a brand new car within a month of each other.  I’m sorry that I’m getting my Master’s degree and you’re not.  I’m sorry that you don’t have the things that you want, and I apparently do, and somehow that makes your hurt feelings my fault.  I’m sorry!

What’s that phrase, when God closes a door, he opens a window?  Well, I’m flopping my way through the open window (I can’t do it gracefully, you know, I’m fat and broken), and I’m working on spending time with the people who are still here, and make me happy to be around, and who I absolutely adore.  Ironically, the first three who come to mind were all in our wedding as well, ha!  So at least we made a few good choices, right??

Good luck, J.  I’ve heard you’re moving back home to take advantage of a job offer.  I hope you find what you’re looking for and that you’re happy with your choices.

wedding planning as coping mechanism

So my wedding is almost here (8 days!) and I’ve been throwing myself into all the little details of the whole event, not just because I’m neurotic to the point that it makes me seem organized, but because it’s helping me escape the crap that goes along with it.

My bachelorette party was kind of a flop. Nine girls said they would celebrate with me, one was too sick to show, and never bothered to tell us, another was too ill to continue after dinner, (she had strep, I get it, go home and rest!) another had to work the next day because her command is going through hell right now, and another left early because her son’s birthday/college acceptance party was the next day. These are all understandable things, I know. However, when combined with the fact that three other girls left in the middle of it to go do something with someone else, then came back and said they had to leave, leaving three of us alone, sober, and calling for a ride home before the night could possibly get any worse… I got my feelings seriously hurt.

It’s also apparently my fault that they left because the girl throwing it said she was getting anxious because I didn’t appear to be having a good time. Uh, I was bummed that people kept leaving! Just because they had totally valid reasons for leaving doesn’t mean that it doesn’t suck that they had to go! How is this my fault?? Apparently I’m “hard to please” and “not easy to be friends with.” Fine. If that’s how you see me, then why bother? If I’m so high-maintenance and such a chore to be friends with, maybe we should just let the whole thing go!

Then, I call my future mother-in-law to get photos for a memorial we’re doing, and she tells me that I have to respond to a confirmation email from her husband (my Romeo’s step-father) from a computer, because if he sends them to my phone, the large files will break it. What?? So I try to explain to both of them that web-hosted email is the same whether it’s my phone or my desktop, and the guy says they will not be sending the photos, and FMIL tells Romeo that I called her ignorant. Seriously??

Then, I ask one of my bridesmaids if I can store my dress at her place until the wedding, tell her I’m picking it up today, and she says “cool.” Then she says she can’t come to the fitting because she has plans. Um. How am I supposed to get the dress into your house, then?? Luckily, another friend has said she wants to go, and will store it for me at her place.

Not to mention that of the 110 people I invited, only 50 are coming, and over half of the people who aren’t didn’t even bother to reply. Some of those who did were two weeks past the RSVP date. That’s ridiculous. That is so rude.

So I’m throwing myself into seating charts, escort cards, timelines, and sign-making to get my mind off of it. Most of the time it works, but sometimes, like right now, I sit and think: “what did I do to deserve this?” “Do I actually deserve this?” “Am I being too sensitive, or demanding?” I have no answers for these, I really don’t. I just know that it sucks, and I really, really hope that I won’t feel this way next Saturday. I don’t want to cry my makeup off…

i can’t deal anymore

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Yup. Six. That’s not even the worst part.

The shower was thrown by my Maid of Honor, who lives across the country, and she flew from Dallas to be there before flying home to her husband she almost never sees because she’s always traveling for work. Did I mention she rented out a rooftop venue and had it catered with a custom menu for us? Yeah. She did. Six people. Fuck my life.

I feel like the lame fat kid waiting for kids to show up to his birthday party and then spending it alone. Really? Our bridal shower? I understand maybe ditching a Cards Against Humanity night, or even a birthday thing, but our BRIDAL SHOWER? We only get one of those! Ever! I’m no-shit seriously considering canceling the wedding. Why throw a party costing tens of thousands of dollars so that people can be dicks and not show? We invited 110 people, the RSVP date is July 1, and we have 34 attendees. That’s pathetic. Pathetic.

I want to die. I’ve never considered suicide so seriously before now. The only reason I haven’t done it yet is because it would devastate my fiancé to have to put our dogs up for rescue, because he wouldn’t be able to care for them by himself, he works too much.

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Too dramatic, you say? What’s the big deal? It’s one party, everything will be fine? No. No it won’t. Because this has become the norm. This is what happens, and I know it’s because of me, because everyone loves my fiancé and they would never treat him like this. I’m a burden to the people in my life alive, and I’m a burden to my fiancé dead. Do you have any idea how that feels? Put aside whether or not you think it’s true, and imagine that you felt that way. Whether or not it’s true, rational, or ridiculous, that is exactly how I feel right now. I’ve been trying to sleep for four hours and can’t because I can’t stop thinking about how miserable I am and wondering if I would regret taking all of my sleeping pills at once with a bottle of vodka.

I can’t do this anymore, I just can’t. It’s not worth it. I don’t know why I think it’s worth it to keep trying. Even our officiant (a mutual friend) called and said he may not make it to the wedding. That’s how little people give a shit about me. I’m not asking for all of their attention, I haven’t deluded myself into believing that people are always going to be available whenever we have a party, but these invitations went out in April. APRIL! It’s not like they didn’t have time to plan! And even worse, I feel guilty for missing my friend’s birthday party tonight because I wanted to have dinner with my mother whom I see once a year and my sister-in-law whom I haven’t seen since 2012.

This sucks. I don’t even know what I’m going to do. I think I’ll take a Neurontin and hope I pass out…

if you’re going to treat me like shit, i don’t need you

I’m one of those people who really needs to be liked.  I go out of my way to make sure people feel comfortable, included, cared for, and appreciated.  To the point where I can’t enjoy my own parties, end up taking on extra work in groups, and spend entirely too much money on people I can’t even really count as friends.  This habit gets me way too stressed out, always ends up backfiring, and to be honest, I’m going to be 29 this year, I’m too old for this shit.

People who make fun of me for having a blog because it’s “stupid” should look at this: Interesting Facts about Blogs, it was written over two years ago, so I’m pretty sure the numbers are a little different, but there are some interesting factoids in here: “Most people read blogs more than once a day,” that surely doesn’t point to blogs being “stupid,” does it?  “Businesses that blog at least 20 times per month (4-5 week),  generate 5 times more traffic than those that blog fewer that 4 times per month,” point being: bloggers can make money.  Look at Jenna Marbles/Mourey, she started blogging in 2009 for Stoollala, and is now worth $2.5 MILLION.  To any dumb fuck that thinks blogs are stupid, tell her that.

The Huffington Post is a blog.  Gawker.  Lifehacker.  Fail Blog.  Business Insider.  Am I saying Always A Sailor is going to be like that?  Hell no!  This is my place to vent and sound off about stuff that I want to write about.  Does it matter that my number one post is about Navy tattoos?  No, I don’t mind that one bit.  The Navy and Tattoos was my 12th post, and you want to know why I wrote it?  It wasn’t so much to bitch about the chick who gets Navy tattoos and hasn’t “earned” them, it was mostly because I was trying to find information on military tattoos and had a ton of trouble figuring out their origins.  I thought that if I was looking for the information, maybe other people would want to know as well, so why not make a comprehensive list.  I thought about doing separate posts for all of the different branches, but let’s face it, no one has the diversity of tattoos that the Navy has, it’s just our thing.

I’m just done trying to defend myself, my use of hashtags on Instagram, the way I’ve decided to raise my dogs, (yes, you read that right, I have to defend the respectful treatment of my own dogs) and the fact that I’m a disabled veteran (I can’t tell you how many doctors, “shipmates,” and complete strangers have told me I’m faking.  Eat shit and die).  In order not to be a hypocrite, I’ll try not to judge others too harshly either (maybe I was a little over-the-top in my tattoo post, but whatever, it was three years ago, get over it).

I was just texting a friend about a get-together she’s having this weekend for her birthday (Happy Birthday, J!) and she said this:

I’m ready for my 20s to be over, I feel more classy because I’m older for some reason, like my age kind of makes me badass.

We talked about how we no longer feel it necessary to close bars, have ragers, and party like we will never party again.  Sometimes it’s cool to just hang out around the fire pit and talk about nothing, you know?  Everyone seems so obsessed with putting out this image of being a badass, and I don’t think you achieve it until you grow the hell up and get over all that crap.  Most of my friends and I are entering that “don’t give a fuck” portion of our lives where we’re old enough to realize life isn’t a goddamn competition, but still young enough that we can kick ass in anything we want to do.  I look at some of the people I served with, especially those that are out now (whether honorably or dishonorably), and I just think about how sad they are.  They still feel the need to treat others like crap to make themselves feel better.  I’m sorry your life wasn’t all you wanted it to be, but it’s life, that’s how it is!  One minute I’m considering asking someone my fiance and I served with to do a reading at our wedding, the next he’s being a narcissistic prick and I’m thinking “fuck you, buddy, I don’t want you around on the happiest day of my life…”

So, fuck it.  I’ve spent most of my life trying to make “the cool kids” like me.  Usually people stop after high school, but I joined the Navy, which is more like middle school, so I backtracked.  Now that I’ve been away from that crap for three years, am a graduate student, and am just so happy with my lot in life (except for the whole depression and handicapped things), that I simply don’t have time for the immature morons that insist on ruining it.  Social media seems to bring those things out in people too, they feel so powerful, sitting there behind their computer screens.  It’s disgusting.

So, now that I have trimmed some douche off of the wedding guest list, I can continue with my life, without these jerks anywhere near my radar…

the sgt bergdahl thing

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By now, I’m sure everyone has heard about the case of Sergeant Bergdahl and his release from captivity in Afghanistan.  Bowe Bergdahl was released last month in a prisoner exchange by which the United States released five detainees from Guantanamo Bay into Qatar, where they must stay for a minimum of one year, and are “subject to strict bans on militant incitement or fundraising that might pose a danger to the United States.”

Okay, granted, this raises some questions:

1.  What happened to the United States’ policy of not negotiating with terrorists?

The United States has a policy of not negotiating directly with terrorists.  We can, however, negotiate through an intermediary nation.  In this case, it was Qatar.  What the Obama Administration did is not new, nor is it “illegal,” nor is it treason.

2.  What’s the deal with Bergdahl’s dad?

If you’re asking this question, then you’ve probably read and seen photos of Robert Bergdahl, the father of Sgt. Bergdahl, who tells us he grew out his hair and beard and began learning Arabic and Pashto in an effort to bring his son home.  Right-wing media has been criticizing Mr. Bergdahl because his actions apparently make him a Taliban sympathizer, and a Muslim (why being a Muslim is a bad thing, I don’t get, but my guess is that stupid people think all Muslims are terrorists).

3.  Isn’t Bergdahl a deserter?

Officially, no.  In 2010, “the evidence was “incontrovertible” that Bergdahl indeed walked away from his unit, [however the Pentagon] did not accuse him of desertion.”  There is little information on this part of the story, but earlier in the article cited by the previous link, Bergdahl is described as feeling little conviction for his assignment in Afghanistan, saying “These people need help, yet what they get is the most conceited country in the world telling them that they are nothing and that they are stupid, that they have no idea how to live.”

Here’s the issue.  Those of us at home have no idea what those guys over in the Middle East have to do.  We don’t see the end result of our demand for action and justice.  Likewise, the grunt on the ground isn’t going to see the big picture, it’s above his pay grade.  It is understandable that Bergdahl would have had some frustration, especially with the incidents he cited: “He said an Army vehicle had run over a girl, but “we don’t even care when we hear each other talk about running their children down in the dirt streets with our armored trucks.””  I don’t care what your mission is, that’s horrible.

4.  Come on, he forgot how to speak English??

This one I’m also really skeptical of, to be completely honest.  However, I think Robert Bergdahl put it quite eloquently: “The complicated nature of this recovery will never really be comprehended.”  What I do know is that sassy attacks on the former POW, like the one from Sarah Palinaren’t helping.  None of us knows the first thing about what that man went through, even former POWs, because Bergdahl was the first and only American POW during this war.  It’s going to take a long time to figure out why he doesn’t seem to be capable of speaking/comprehending English, and in the meantime, the rest of us should probably just shut the fuck up about it.

 

I understand that we all have a right to our own opinions, and we have a right to voice those opinions, but I propose that everyone stop, learn, and think for a moment about what they’re doing and the things they’re saying.  So many people are simply spreading ignorance and hate when there is absolutely no basis in fact for such feelings.  I don’t give a damn what country you’re from, or what rights you have, you have a responsibility as a human being, with the capability of analytical, logical, ethical cognition, to think before you speak.  Think before you form an opinion.  Think before you make the entire country look even dumber than we already do.

busy, busy!

Hello! I’m sorry I haven’t posted in a while, but it’s been crazy, so if you’ll bear with me, I’ll go over everything in separate posts.

Here’s what’s been going on:

1. I graduated! In January 25th, 2014 DeVry University awarded me with my Bachelor’s of Science in Business Technical Management, as well as the Academic Performance Award.

2. Wedding planning has really gotten into full swing. It happened when I realized that August 2nd looked a lot closer on the other side of the New Year…

3. We’re fostering a new puppy! His name is Zoink and he’s an eight week old disabled Pitbull from Labradors and Friends Rescue Group here in San Diego.

Look for more posts detailing what’s up, I’m totally cracked out on Nespresso right now, so it’s entirely likely that I’ll write all three posts now…