Thursday, March 21, 2013

Waiting on the Waterfront


            This morning I arrived in Plymouth early before work. I know that the trip down Route 3 only takes me about twenty-five minutes, and I still end up arrived well before I’m supposed to be at my desk morning after morning. I could very easily sit down on the couch, put my feet up, and watch the news for ten minutes. But instead, I get into my car.
            I suppose I just don’t like waiting.
            When Grace sees me changing into my work clothes, she starts watching me like a hawk. Her ears tuck back against the sides of her skull. Her eyes tilt upward, and her head stays low to her body. She scampers after me whenever I walk out of the room. And she finds her bed, curls into a ball, and pretends to be sleeping.
            I’m never quite sure if she realizes that I can see her eyes are open.
             I don’t like leaving her any more than she likes me leaving. I know I have to go to work in Plymouth because it’s good money and will pay for dog trainer school in the fall. The future coerces me to put the key in the ignition every morning, even when I’d rather stay home in my jeans and sweatshirt and with my puppy’s head in my lap.
            Since I never got a key to the office, I can’t head inside to start work early and head off the inevitable flood of emails. I really have two options for how I spend my time.
            I could park my car in the parking lot, scroll through Facebook on my phone, and listen to the radio. I’d be glancing at my watch too often, and I’d quickly run out of engaging features on my phone. Maybe that’s a sign I need more Facebook friends.
            Or I could stop by the waterfront.
            I parked my car in a two-hour parking space in front of the Mayflower II gift shop, closed now for the winter season. I tucked my wallet and phone into my pocket, grabbed my keys and camera, and carefully avoided the ice on the ground beneath my door.
            No wind rustled the bare trees at the shore; the gray sea lay flat and calm. Sunrise already came and went, and the yellow ball of sun hung well over the horizon. The Atlantic air didn’t feel as cold as the thermometer in my car claimed. Sure it wasn’t t-shirt weather, but it wasn’t bad for the first day of spring.
            I seemed to be the only one out on this little patch of land right now. That was just fine with me.
            Standing next to Plymouth Bay, all of the tension dissipated from my chest. My shoulders felt lighter. The wide open air and space over my head lifted me until I grew another two inches. At least I’d swear that I did.
            Waiting for work didn’t feel a whole lot like waiting. It felt better than that.
            Moments like these happen infrequently. I’m always working, whether in Plymouth or Hanover, and tension buzzes in across my muscles and beneath my skin. I walk across a swaying tightrope above the chasm of complete exhaustion. Some days I’m not sure how I stay on the rope.
            But this morning, as I walked along the edge of Plymouth Bay, I thought the wait could be bearable. Soon enough the weather would be warm. Soon enough this job would end and I’d start dog walking. Soon enough I’d be in Ohio at dog trainer school.
            Soon enough my life would begin. Though, maybe it has already started.




Sunday, February 17, 2013

Doggie Daycare


                Grace has never liked when I left for work. She disappeared when the time came for her to get in her crate, and I’d find her curled up on her bed in my room. She pretended to be asleep, her eyelids drooping. She wanted me to think that she’d be good and she’d sleep on her bed all day.
                But I know better than to trust my dog. She’s got a lot of puppy left brewing inside her, and she can’t help herself sometimes. If I left her home alone and out of her crate one day, I’d come home to a layer of stuffing-snow on the carpet and shredded cloth everywhere.
                Eventually she’ll be mature enough to wander the house while I’m out. Eventually being the keyword there.
                My new, albeit temporary, job means I’m out of the house forty hours a week. Eight hours a day could be considered a long time for Grace to be cooped up inside her crate. Mom thinks that at least, and she suggested we increase the days she goes to doggie daycare during the week.
                So Grace heads off to East Bridgewater twice a week instead of once.
                Grace approaches doggie daycare the same way she approaches her crate at bedtime: pulling, whining, and insisting until she gets exactly what she wants. The moment the car turns down the long, single lane driveway with trees encroaching on both sides, Grace starts bouncing in the back of the car. She pings off the sides of the car and whines like a mad woman.   
                She would leap from the back of the car the moment I opened the hatch, leaving me to scramble for the pink leash trailing behind her. I didn’t much like that, and we’ve come to an agreement that she’s not to hop off the tailgate until I tell her she can.
                Because of my schedule, Dad drops her off in the mornings and Mom picks her up. In the ten hours between, Grace plays and runs and wrestles with the other dogs. She wears herself out; back at home, she settles herself into her bed and only wakes up long enough for a bathroom run before bedtime.
                I love my sleepy puppy. I love how she smells of the indoor room at daycare: the smell of disinfectant mixed with a faint stale scent. I love how she looks at me from behind her half-closed while curled in her bed. I love the sound of her snoring from across the room.
                This full time job in Plymouth probably won’t last much longer, and I occasionally need to keep whispering Ohio to myself as a reminder of long term goals just to get through the day. I may not be enjoying the uncertainty of a temporary job or of exactly what will happen in the coming months. But coming home to a sleepy puppy and knowing that she had the time of her life today makes my day a little bit better. 

Sunday, February 3, 2013

Travel Writing

I signed up for an online travel writing course through a local university back in January, and I'm almost halfway through at this point. I've taken a few online writing courses so far: an editing one, one on writing mystery novels, and another on romances. This travel writing one was next on my list, and I've been eyeing it all fall. Money kept me from signing up right away. A pair of part time jobs at minimum wage doesn't pay much, and expensive dog food for Grace's sensitive stomach takes a toll on my wallet.

Near the end of December and just before Christmas, I caught "Eat, Pray, Love" on one of the movie channels. I'd been meaning to watch it eventually because the movie trailer back when it first came out intrigued me. Plus I'm also a fan of Javier Bardem. I thought it'd be a fun, light movie to kill a couple hours. And it was, to a point. 

"Eat, Pray, Love" is based on a memoir written by Elizabeth Gilbert and follows her yearlong travels in Italy, India, and Bali. She learns to deal with her divorce, her spirituality, and falling in love again. The movie wasn't an Oscar contender, and it won't go down in the history of cinema for being one of the best movies of all time. 

But "Eat, Pray, Love" resonated with me. I'm not going through the same kinds of challenges Elizabeth Gilbert faced; I'm not looking to heal from a broken relationship or find inner peace. My hurdles amount to finding a stable career, producing publishable written work, and venturing out to find my place in the world. None of those are small feats, to be sure, however even the biggest challenges can be chipped away with small steps. 

So I signed up for the travel writing class. I don't regret that or the money spent on tuition, even though I often feel frustrated with the lack of actual writing assignments and any substantial/critical feedback from the other students. I'm learning. That's what's important. 

The assignment for this past Wednesday was to list the places I'd like to visit and to write about. The instructor suggested about 50 places, to include places both realistic in the near future and dream locations, and to post the list somewhere I'd see it every day. 

My list hit 75 places because I just kept coming up with more and more. These are places I know I'll visit some day and others I know I'll be able to visit in the next couple of years. Just looking at this list gets me excited at the possibilities. And I can't wait until I can start crossing places off of it. 

1.       Gettysburg, PA
2.       Brisbane, Australia
3.       Sydney, Australia
4.       New Zealand
5.       Hawaii
6.       London, England
7.       Budapest, Hungary
8.       Dublin, Ireland
9.       Glasgow, Scotland
10.   Edinburgh, Scotland
11.   Barcelona, Spain
12.   Seville, Spain
13.   Athens, Greece
14.   Paris, France
15.   Normandy, France
16.   Charlotte, NC
17.   Talladega, AL
18.   San Diego, CA
19.   Los Angeles, CA
20.   Las Vegas, NV
21.   Seattle, Washington
22.   Maine
23.   Daytona Beach, Florida
24.   New Orleans, LA
25.   Newfoundland, Canada
26.   Vicksburg, MS
27.   Quebec, Canada
28.   Niagara Falls
29.   Grand Canyon
30.   St. Maarten
31.   San Juan, Puerto Rico
32.   Calgary, Canada
33.   Dracula’s Castle
34.   Inverness, Scotland
35.   Charleston, SC
36.   Darlington, SC
37.   Outer Banks, NC
38.   Columbus, OH
39.   Richmond, VA
40.   Savannah, GA
41.   Newport, RI
42.   Hyannis, MA
43.   Edith Wharton House, MA
44.   Philadelphia, PA
45.   Gold Coast, Australia
46.   Salem, MA
47.   Japan
48.   Stockholm, Sweden
49.   Watkins Glen, NY
50.   Mount Rushmore
51.   The Australian Outback
52.   Bristol, TN
53.   Nashville, TN
54.   Memphis, TN
55.   Mount Vernon
56.   Casper, WY
57.   Appomattox Court House, VA
58.   Virginia Beach, VA
59.   Rome, Italy
60.   Sorrento, Italy
61.   Florence, Italy
62.   Pompeii and Mt. Vesuvius
63.   Venice, Italy
64.   Costa Del Sol, Spain
65.   Buenos Aires, Argentina
66.   Montana
67.   San Antonio, TX
68.   Martinsville/Ridgeway, VA
69.   Concord, NC
70.   Hershey, PA
71.   Erie, PA
72.   Florida Keys
73.   Canary Islands
74.   Fort Lauderdale, FL
75.   Miami, FL

Tuesday, January 1, 2013

Resolutions for 2013


            I make New Year’s Resolutions every year, and every year my momentum seems to fizzle out between February and April. I come up with excuses not to follow through. Last year my two resolutions met the same fate. 
The first resolution of 2012 was to work on my novel for an hour a day and then on short stories for another hour. I did really well gluing my butt to my chair and staying off the internet the whole time until I started feeling the guilt of working on personal things rather than schoolwork. I convinced myself that I would have plenty of time to write after graduation. And so that resolution failed.
            My second resolution was to run a 5k. I started out really well, running the loop around the Hollins University campus for about two and a half months. I got to the point where I could run for four minutes straight. But then I got out of my routine after Spring Break. I stopped making myself change into my running clothes, stretch, and head outside into the chilly spring air.
            So, what’s going to make my 2013 resolutions any different from those of 2012? I’m not longer a college student living in Virginia, and I’m currently struggling to stand on my own two feet financially thanks to two minimum wage part time jobs. I am also looking at the world in a different way right now. I’m a grown-up even if I haven’t quite come to terms with that reality.
            The world is mine to conquer as long as I put in the effort. I don’t want to look back and feel regret for the things I didn’t do.  

New Year’s Resolutions for 2013
1. Write for at least two hours a day: Ideally I’d like to work on my novel for an hour and then use the second hour to work on articles for publication in the local paper or in other local interest publications
2. Project 365: A good friend of mine did the 365 Day Photo Project last year as part of her New Year’s Resolution, and she did really well with it. I always loved seeing the pictures she posted for it. I did a shorter version for the final 100 days of my college career last spring. I haven’t decided whether I’m going to create a new blog to post the pictures or to post them on Facebook.
3. Visit Gettysburg, Pennsylvania: This year is the 150th anniversary of the Battle of Gettysburg which occurred July 1-3, 1863. I’ve already come to terms with the fact that I won’t be able to afford a trip to the battlefield for the actual battle anniversary. It would probably be way too crowed for me to really enjoy the experience anyway. But the anniversary celebration will probably be a yearlong event, and I can enjoy it just as much during a September visit. Plus it won’t be as hot.
4. Get Healthy: I don’t like thinking about what’s in the stuff I eat. My family has never been big on eating healthy. The nature of fending for ourselves meant eating a lot of frozen food from the freezer. So this year I’m going to eat more salads, chicken, and keep an eye on how much I eat. I’d also like to start exercising. Maybe walking the neighborhood with Grace and using my brother’s weights downstairs. I’d also like to make a doctor’s appointment. I haven’t been since before college, and I think I’m long overdue.  
5. Find a full time job: I’m getting tired of working two part time jobs and not seeming to get anywhere. Now the challenge will be convincing employers to hire me.
6. Put away a sizeable chunk of money toward National K-9 School for Dog Trainers: I will become a dog trainer. That’s what I want to do with my life, and I can see loving pretty much every moment of that career. For right now, I just need to keep plugging along and putting a few hundred dollars away toward it every month.

Resolutions for Grace
1. Daily Training: I’ve lost the time I had for Grace thanks to the two part time jobs, and I’ve noticed how that lack of training has impacted her. So I’m going to make it a goal to spend at least thirty minutes every day working with her on things ranging from obedience to clipping her nails to tricks.
2. Sharing the House: Grace has become very territorial at home when people come inside the house. I know I’m to blame for this because I haven’t had anyone in and out to expose her to that. So I, and the whole family, will be working on having people over at least once every week and teaching Grace that the house belongs to us, not her.
3. Visit the Beach: I live about half an hour from the beach, and I don’t usually venture out there to enjoy it. But I’d like to take Grace. I know she’d love it, and it would be a fantastic teaching moment. She could have the opportunity to show even more people how polite and good I know she is capable of being.

            So here’s a toast to the year 2013. May yours be happy, successful, and full of good memories. Happy New Year, everyone. 

Friday, December 28, 2012

The Solution to a Black Dog during a Power Outage


                Thursday morning, I woke up just after six to find the power out. Blue and white lights down the black street and Mom’s fire radio illuminated the problem as being a tree down on some wires.
                I turned on my laptop for light, made use of the flashlights that usually gather dust, and pulled Grace’s pink coat with reflective strips off my closet door. I borrowed Dad’s bright yellow jacket with reflectors from the closet to take Grace outside for her morning business.
                But the problem with the black dog in the dark didn’t surface until after I brought Grace inside.
                Now my first dog, Max, had black, white, and some tan fur. The white confined itself to his face, chest, and the very tip of his tail, and his back and sides were black. His tail tended to be the only reason I didn’t step on him in the dark middle of the night.
                Grace has black fur with brindle markings. I need a flashlight to see her in the crate at night because otherwise she blends into the shadows. She’d be invisible in a house without light, and she’d be able to get into all the trouble her little puppy heart desired.
                My mind mulled over the problem for about seven seconds until I remembered a neat little collar and leash Mom bought over the summer. They fell into the category of novelty rather than being a leash and a collar I ever thought I’d use. But the glowing collar meant I could keep an eye on Grace even without being able to actually see her.  
                I trotted down the hallway, Grace at my heels, and dug through the basket on the top shelf of my closet. The flashlight illuminated my work as I dumped everything out onto the bed. The limp black and orange collar lay on my comforter, and I turned on the orange light before putting it around Grace’s neck.
                “Free dog,” I told her. “Go eat.”
                The orange light bounced down the hall and into the living room. It stopped in front of the fire place, turned in a circle, and then dropped to the floor.
                Grace must have known I could see her now because she’d decided against trouble.
                Smart puppy. 

Thursday, November 29, 2012

Sense of Space

                The thermostat in my room read 64.5 degrees at six this morning. I wanted to crawl back under my flannel sheets as soon as my feet touched the carpet. I dressed in a long sleeved shirt, a sweatshirt, and jeans before putting on my parka, jacket, gloves, and hat before taking Grace out. Despite all those layers, the cold permeated my jeans and clung to the fabric against my skin.
                That cold got me thinking while I drove home after dropping Grace off at doggy day care. My mind returned to the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia and their constant presence at the edge of the Hollins University campus. It journeyed back over a year to the expanse of road and land around me as I drove away from Charlotte, North Carolina. All the while in the present, I drove down a two-lane road with frost-covered houses and trees crowding the gutter on either side of me.
                I’ve always been a touch claustrophobic while in crowds. But I didn’t realize the nervousness and tension applied to the physical world around me until I stood at the top of a hill on campus and looked at the buildings below, the mountains encircling me, and the wide open sky above.
I miss that sense of space.
                Even now as I type this entry and look out my window my view is crowded by the leafless trees in the swamp across the street. And the trees’ sharp branches scratch the sky, blocking any hope of seeing the openness I came to love in Virginia.
                I admire the charm of New England’s old homes and the diversity in their architecture, but the houses sit close together on small plots of land. A few sit back away from the road, at the end of long, winding driveways which lead into the woods. But the streets I drive through my hometown and the surrounding ones still feel small.
                At least once a week, I think about packing up the car and the dog. I’d drive west along I-84 until I hit Scranton, Pennsylvania and then pick up I-81 for a ride all the way down through southwest Virginia. Then branch off that south of Blacksburg, near Wytheville, onto I-77 and head straight for Charlotte.
                It wouldn’t take the whole drive south to ease the tension hovering in my muscles and bones. There’s a section of 81 in Pennsylvania where the mountains on one side of the highway give way and reveal the valley below. The mountains surround the town in the valley much like the sides of a bowl around the base. And the blue sky seems to stretch above and around the valley for miles.
                Whenever I drove this stretch of highway on my way to or from school, calm resonated outward from the deepest part of my chest. I would feel at peace.
                But the promise of the south and its expanse of space aren’t enough to uproot me right now. Responsibility always breaks that daydream. My savings account isn’t exactly full right now and what about a job to bring money in? I’ve had a hard enough time finding part time work here in Massachusetts, and even that isn’t coming close to paying my loan payments and for Grace.
                Responsibility also reminds me about my plan to attend dog trainer school at National K-9 in Ohio. I know that I’ll love being a dog trainer and that it’s a career I can take wherever I want to live. I’m budgeting just over $10,000 for tuition, housing, and expenses. I already have a quarter of the money, but saving is slow going. I can only afford to put a few hundred away toward it a month. Being me, I did the math and figured out that it’ll take me a couple years to get there. I also have to save for a German Shepherd Dog to take with me and train while there; well-bred shepherds aren’t cheap.
                I’m impatient. I also feel guilty about admitting to being impatient. I hear news stories every day about the unemployment rate in the country, and I think that I should be grateful to have two part time jobs. I should be thankful that I’m getting around thirty hours a week between the two jobs. Heck, I’ve even heard that I shouldn’t get on my employers’ bad sides by cutting hours one place to work at the other because of the flailing job market.
                I’m done feeling guilty. I shouldn’t have to feel bad for being dissatisfied with my jobs because I’m not making enough money to support myself. I shouldn’t have to put a smile on my face when I’m told for the twentieth time that I’m way overqualified for the position I applied for or the job I have.
                I’m tired of waiting in cold, claustrophobic Massachusetts. I want warm weather, my own apartment with Grace, and a job that’ll actually pay my bills. But what I want most of all, with every fiber inside of me, is the calmness I felt when I stood at the top of the Hollins campus and looked out at the mountains and the open sky.  I want to feel free. 

Tuesday, October 30, 2012

New Toy and Reading Progress


            I’ve come to the realization that I have to throw out two of Grace’s Nylabone toys. Both have had good, three month long lives of hard chewing. Grace reduced one to pretty much stubs and the other she chewed to the point where the two halves crunch together whenever she moves her jaw. While she could probably get a couple more weeks out of them, I think it’s best to get rid of them now. Chew toys aren’t forever.
            So I decided last week to head out to PetSmart with Grace for training and possibly to get her a new chew toy. We practiced her down in the dog food aisles while I checked out grain-free options other than Blue Buffalo Basics. She didn’t bark or ignore me completely when we walked past another dog, and she even made me proud because she behaved better than the other dog.
            Then I put her in a down as I checked out the store’s Nylabone options. The same s-shaped toy I wanted to replace hung on the rack, and I’m sure she would have enjoyed having that toy again. But I wanted to get her something different.
            I spotted a large, tan bone in one of the baskets at the bottom of the shelves. The toy looked solid, like Grace would need to work on chewing a dent in it. Plus the toy’s size made me happy; it was bigger than her front leg and would probably stand up to several months of chewing. The twenty dollars I’d spend on it would be well worth it.
            When we got home and I’d gotten the toy out of its packaging, Grace eagerly grabbed it between her teeth and trotted across the living room with it in her mouth. She looked a bit absurd as the toy was bigger than her head. But her eyes lit up and she got to chewing right away. She still loves the toy a week later, and who knows, maybe Santa will put another Nylabone under the tree on Christmas Eve.
            While Grace has been chewing on her new Nylabone, I’ve been working on thereading goal I wrote about last time. I finished the last book I was reading yesterday, and I’m going to start the next one today. I prefer to just sit and read for a few hours at a time. So the challenge is finding those hours amidst working and getting other things done plus making sure Grace doesn’t get into trouble. But I’m up for it, especially becauseI love seeing the pages and hours fly by.

Book of the Week: The Game by Laurie R. King
Next Week’s Book: Locked Rooms by Laurie R. King