Hey Stella!

Stella just seemed like the right name for the little chihuahua who showed up at my house and claimed my family on Satuday. Now, was my brother thinking of Marlon Brando or a Street Car Named Desire when he picked the name? Not likely - but I choose to believe somewhere in the depths of his over-developed mind he was referencing that little snippit of 1951 pop culture.

I woke up on Saturday morning and half-fell out of my bed as I stumbled towards the kitchen to get a drink of water. But halfway through my underwear and t-shirt clad pilgrimage I noticed my dog staring out the window, mesmerized by something on the sidewalk below. When I followed her gaze on down, I saw that we had a little intruder on our lot. A teeny tiny black rat dog, panting and limping up my sidewalk.

Naturally, I rushed to the kitchen, got a bowl of water and headed downstairs to try and water the broken wanderer.  But as soon as I opened the door, she ran away as fast as her limping physique could carry her. And then she posted up at the end of the sidewalk and barked at me.

We danced this tango of "let me feed you and water you" "no, screw you, I hate you human" for most of the morning. I gave up and left the water and food outside sometime before 2. But when we got back from the pool, my little brother, Mom and friends found her still wandering the grounds of my estate.

After many more failed attempts to call her close, we left for a movie. When we returned - there she was - scratching at my door to get in. This time, she let my Mom get within a few feet, and refused to leave the porch. I scooted my way by and opened the door - and in she went. Stella had chosen this house, and chosen these people.

But it was when she met my baby brother that she really fell in love. She didn't want any of us to touch her or feed her, but when Lukey came down the stairs she lept from her towel-bed and jumped into his arms. She had found her human. He fed her from his hand, cuddled her and on Sunday bought her a collar.

Whenever he leaves the room, she looks for him or follows him. See below for video of the old, emphysema riddled New Yorker who adopted us - the great, the legendary - Stella.

Shenanigans

Just when you start to get a handle on things - your life turns upside down again. Isn't that the nature of things? Or is that just my life?

Just when I get into a groove of living with my sister and sharing a bed with both her and with Emma, she is moving out. Just when I have found a rotation of close friends to play with, talk with, and laugh with - they move away. Just when when I stop being impossible in my relationship, the possibility of my significant other relocating (across the country with my luck) looms on the horizon.

Don't forget that my family could move at any time, I'm starting grad school this fall, one of my best friends is getting married (I'm a bridesmaid - clearly) and my job is at it's most stressful in the fall, with two conferences, student org interviews and advising for the big Spring rush of study abroad students.

It's a shenangians merger. All of the shenanigans in my life have come together to create one shenanigan-conglomerate. Please see below for my favorite image that came up during a google search of "shenanigans".

Luckily, even with all of that to come, I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I am getting a handle on this young adulthood thing. I feel better equipped to manage life as it comes. I feel less fragile and unstable than before. I am happy for the people in my life pursuing new interests, new goals and new dreams. I can imagine more alone time being a good thing for me and my psyche. And I am even looking forward to reading assignments, roadtrips and a full schedule.

Bring it on season of harvest - I am well rested, well fed and I took my happy pill this morning.

Smart people

Yesterday I kicked up the nerd level to a solid 7 by downloading stitcher on my iphone. It's an app (search that shit) that let's you string together podcasts you love in categories and then automatically updates them for your listening pleasure.


I've never been a big podcast fan, mostly because the ones I'm aware of are the ones my significant other listens to - and those are all involving Kevin Smith and his friends. I am a big fan of some Kevin Smith - yay Dogma - but most of it falls a bit short on the mentally relevant for me.

I think the Smodcast  about Doc Brown being more than a time doctor so that he could provide an abortion for Marty and thus solve the problems of Back to the Future II was my breaking point.


But yesterday, I discovered smart people podcasts. NPR podcasts. Hallelujiah. I'm improving my brain and enjoying a podcast. There are the relevant and enjoyable podcasts like Fresh Air and This American Life, but there are also the unexpected like "Pop Culture Happy Hour."


Pop Culture Happy Hour is "a special audio frolic in which I sat down with NPR Music's Stephen Thompson, NPR.org arts editor Trey Graham, and comics blogger Glen Weldon to talk about movies, TV, and what we're loving and not loving these days." (to quote creator Linda Holmes)


It is a perfect amalgamation of witty, current and hysterical.


I am relieved to find that smart (funny) people make podcasts for elitist listeners like me.

Woman's best friend

I would consider some very basic things to be man's best friends:

beer

dogs (supposedly)

sports

movies where stuff blows up

bratwurst 

And yesterday I decided that there are a few (more specific) things that could be considered a woman's best friends:

good wine

dogs (definitely)

reality television you don't morally agree with but can't stop watching

movies with long dresses and kissing

exotic take out when you don't want to cook (thai or indian preferred)

Yesterday I had quite a few of those. 

I ate take out indian food with one of my long time best friends (thanks Air), watched a movie that had Emily Blunt in a long dress kissing Matt Damon, recaps of bachelorette episodes,  and my dog Emma to do weird things like lean on Air in a way that suggests she is simply exhausted by our antics.

I had an evening that definitely qualifies as woman-approved.

Happy songs

Sometimes, you just need a happy song. I recommend these couple songs by these goofy Austin natives.

Enter The Noise Revival Orchestra...

Songs of Forgiveness - click me!

Crushin' on You - click me!

Modern plans

This past week I got together with a close friend of mine and we decided to create a list of "mental health goals" for the month. Both of us are perfectionists to a fault, and horribly over committed socially. We find that between work, friends, family, home and the daily grind of being a sexy young thang - we tend to wear ourselves out, especially mentally.

One of my goals was to enjoy my relationship. I tend to be the kind of person who looks for ways to improve on everything instead of reveling in the greatness that is what I have. My relationship has become one of those things. I'm always looking for ways for us to be more connected, more appreciative of each other, more interesting, more adventurous. These days, I rarely sit back and appreciate how much fun it is to watch Teen Wolf and Teen Wolf Too back to back while planning off-beat Halloween costumes.

This means I come dangerously close to missing out on how much fun my relationship is, how easily we talk, laugh and enjoy each other.

Well this month - no more! I am going to appreciate not only my relationship - but my roommates - my family - and my city.

One of the things I am most excited for is utilizing the incredible arts district we have in Fort Worth. Two nationally renowned art museums are down the street and I never even stop in to say hello. That needs to change.

There are concerts, shows, movie screenings and all kinds of things to experience in Fort Worth. And they are calling my name.

First Sundays are free at the Modern. August 7th - you and I have a date with modern art.

Family Affair

My parents were supposed to leave Little Rock, Arkansas 6 minutes ago in order to get here in time for the Vet appointment I set up for them at 4. Have they left? Of course not. 

But as I started to steam and fume in my office this morning, I decided to redirect my thoughts. I thought about the fact that I haven't seen my Mom or older little brother since May and I haven't seen my baby brother or my Dad since Christmas. I'd say that getting here late is substantially less important than getting here at all.

I have such a close-knit, over the top, hopelessly in love with each other family that I take them for granted at times. I don't value our time together in the moment, too often I wait until they've left, or we've been apart for months, to appreciate them. 

And this closeness, this appreciation doesn't stop at my immediate family - it extends to my Nana, my Papa Ralph, my Cousins and Aunt in Uncle in Omaha. I am already counting down the days until Thanksgiving - and looking forward to conversations about Matisse, Hemingway and modern day poets I've never heard of. I'm looking forward to the nightmare that is black Friday shopping. I'm looking forward to speed scrabble games I know I'll lose. 

But most of all I'm just looking forward to spending time with these people I love.