A Funny Thing Happened on the Way to the Reef

After a delightful day of doing very little yesterday (most of our day centered around our beach-side massage appointment), today was adventure day. We had booked a snorkeling trip that goes to two locations. The first is by the crater Molokini, and the second is colloquially called "Turtle Town." The "luxury catamaran" included post-snorkeling lunch and drinks as well as the requisite equipment.

Boarding the boat involved getting about waist deep in the water, so I removed my insulin pump for boarding. When I went to reattach it once aboard the boat, it was making a god-awful noise and telling me that it was experiencing a critical error. I was on a boat in the Pacific Ocean. Great timing! But, either way I knew it was only a few hours, and I was not about to abandon the trip we'd already paid for. So, I was going to make it work.

Earlier I was lamenting the hassle of dealing with my pump while snorkeling, so I guess the universe has a twisted sense of humor? Thankfully (and oddly) I had cell service as we set out for Molokini. I was able to call Medtronic customer service and cease the horrible alarm noise. But, attempts to reset the pump turned out to be futile, so I had to request a replacement. Of course it's impossible to overnight something to Hawaii without some sort of courier (earliest they could guarantee was Monday), and we return home Saturday. So, it should be waiting for me when I arrive home.

I am very thankful I brought back up insulin pens with me on the trip, though as I write this I am not 100% sure they are both still good. When not on the pump, I need two types of insulin - one long acting and one short acting. I have the short acting in a vial, as that is what goes into my pump. But, I don't have syringes to get it out of the vial (there is a whole thing for getting it into my pump). I also have it in pen form, which involves attaching a little needle that screws on to the top. I have plenty of those, but that requires the insulin to still be viable. I took some insulin upon our return to our room, but it takes a little time to start working. So, I am channeling my anxiety into a post!

I spoke with my doctor's office, and I had CVS here send a request for a prescription to him as an added precaution for the insulin I don't have in a vial. And I was assured by the pharmacist (or whoever I spoke with there) that they could sell me a few syringes if I need them without a prescription as long as I present the vial of insulin as my record there clearly reflects my diabetes. Of course, the CVS is 30 minutes away and only open from 10-6, because island life.

The good news is that it didn't dampen my spirits snorkeling.

I debated whether or not to use the floaty thing offered by the company. At first, I felt all like, "I can swim. Whatever." But, then the crew pointed out that even if you can swim well, you may not be used to 45 minutes doing so in the ocean. So I opted for the floaty thing, since I was already a little anxious. I am kind of afraid of the ocean - I blame my desert upbringing. At Molokini I saw some really cool looking fish of all colors, lots of urchin, and we even saw two reef sharks!

I asked one of the crew how healthy the reef we were on is currently, since I didn't notice a ton of color or much diversity. He said it wasn't too affected by the recent bleaching, but I kept reflecting on some of the snorkeling I had done many years ago. I snorkeled around Oahu in 2001, and I was fortunate enough to snorkel on the Great Barrier Reef in Australia in 1995 or maybe 1996. Both of those experiences were incredible - there was so much life both in terms of the fish and the coral itself.

I have watched many a nature special narrated by Sir David Attenborough, but this experience really cemented that we have a responsibility to preserve our oceans. We can and should do better. Okay, save our oceans PSA over.

The second stop was at Turtle Town, which is along the Makena Coast. This stop involved swimming much further, which made me grateful for my embarrassing floatation device. I saw at least a half dozen turtles - some seemed as big as a two-top table. Others got really close. At one point, I was about 3 feet from one swimming near the surface. Apparently this is a spot where turtles come to get cleaned by the fish in the area.

Swimming back to the boat was a workout, so at least I got some exercise while I was insulin-less for about 4 hours total.

As we boarded the boat, lunch was served, and the bar was open. I ate light and low-carb, save for a couple beers. I figured since I don't bolus (take insulin) for the carbs in beer (doctor's orders, because alcohol actually lowers blood sugar), and it would calm my anxiety (which can spike blood sugar), having a beer or two was not going to be a problem.

The lesson I take from this day is be careful what you wish for. I didn't want to deal with my pump on the boat and beach, and now my pump is a very expensive paperweight until I get my replacement on Saturday! Also, sometimes technology fails, so don't ditch the analog backup.

The "Real" Hawaii

As we approach the halfway point in our vacation, I'm a little tanner (for me), a bit bug bitten (more on that later), and trying to maintain vacation chill instead of spinning out about life back home.

We spent most of Monday by the serenity pool. It's serene because cell phones and children are banned. There is a swim up bar in the infinity pool that looks out over the ocean. So what I'm saying is that it's well named.

After we'd had our fill of lounging, we got shaved ice at Ululani's. The line was long and a little slow moving, but it was totally worth it. I used to love shaved ice in high school. All my LDS friends could have it, and it was nonfat (oh the 90s and its crusade against fat). It was always the perfect treat on a scorching hot Phoenix summer day. I was delighted that my flavor combo wasn't mocked (vanilla, strawberry, and grape with the snow cap topping).

After enjoying our shaved ice, we went to a mall to procure shoes for Eddie and our planned trip to Hana. The only tennis shoes he brought are the kind that lack any sort of tread, and we wanted to do some of the hiking and exploring along the road to Hana. So, we found a Famous Footwear in a pretty sad mall and remedied the packing oversight. And, like most places we've visited, I saw some chickens hanging out. When I saw Moana, as much as I enjoyed Hei Hei as comic relief, I didn't really get why she had a chicken hanging out with her. Well, I get it now! Chickens are everywhere here.

After our shopping adventure, we headed to Maui Brewing Company for dinner. I live for good bar food, and MBC did not disappoint. In addition to delicious beers (made using solar energy), we had tasty nachos, ahi tuna tostadas, chicken wings, and one of those baked cookie dessert things that come in a cast iron pan. And of course, we enjoyed this bounty while taking in another incredible sunset.

The next day we set out on the Road to Hana. Or, as one local we encountered called it, "the road to divorce."

Eddie had purchased an audio tour that works with GPS to guide us on our journey, since cell service was going to be spotty. The narrator reminded me of a Hawaiian Casey Kasem most of the time, but he periodically slipped into what I can only describe as Hawaiian hood (e.g., "hang loose, bra."). He was the inspiration for this blog title as he described Hana as "the real Hawaii."

As we learned from our audio tour, the Road to Hana has more than 600 curves, some of them pretty daunting. Thankfully, I am not prone to carsickness, otherwise it would have been a long and miserable day! The tour actually takes you past Hana to the Seven Sacred Pools, but we opted to turn around after reaching Hana to avoid night driving and to make our 7:00 p.m. dinner reservation.

Our first stop was at Twin Falls.

We walked to the close one, took the obligatory photos, and headed on our way. Next up was a small town Keanae Village where we took in amazing views of the ocean crashing into the rocks. Well, I took in the view while Eddie took out our drone. But, he did get some cool shots of the shore.

Then, we stopped at Waikani or Three Bears Falls where there are three falls all clustered together.

By this point, we were starting to get hungry. We took a quick stop at this lava cave that had a super narrow opening, but then opened up into a rather large and spooky structure. According to Hawaiian Casey Kasum, nothing dangerous lives in there, but I was good after about 3 minutes inside. It was dark and damp, and stuff kept dripping on me. Plus, I was terrified Eddie was going to whack his head into some low-hanging rock or root.

We took a quick snack break at the halfway point and opted to save the rest of the stops for the return trip. We reached Hana around 1:00, after leaving our hotel around 8:00 a.m. We grabbed lunch at the Hana Ranch, which I am hoping will be the worst meal we eat here. It wasn't terrible, but it wasn't exactly good either. We didn't really spend much time in Hana as there isn't much to see in the "real Hawaii." Apparently, the one bank in town is only open an hour per day. And sometimes the shops and restaurants are closed just cause the folks that work there don't feel like coming in. Hang loose, bra!

On the return trip, we wanted to check out Wainapana state park and its black sand beach. I had only ever visited one black sand beach before. It was on Santorini, and I remembered not enjoying the experience. I thought it was because of the crowds, but as soon as I removed my shoes on this one, I remembered it was also because black sand is PAINFUL on your feet. It's hot and sharp, and it feels like you're walking on glass. Classic case of Instagram versus reality. It looks beautiful and makes nice photos, but it is not pleasant.

We walked around the park a bit where we saw many mongooses (and then debated whether the plural was mongeese - and if my spell check is to be believed, it is not - it is mongooses), and then we got back into the car to continue on our way.

Eddie really wanted to swim, so we stopped at Pua'a Ka'a Wayside Park where there is a small waterfall that empties into a pond you can swim in. The water was pretty chilly, and the rocks were small and sharp or big and slippery to walk on. I swear it took me 5 minutes to cross a stream that could not have been more than 5 feet across. But, we got in the water to our waists and decided that was good enough. Glad I did it, though it did take a few minutes for feeling to return to my toes (which I guess was good considering how painful the walking in the water was). I have a new respect for all those intrepid and crazy people who go on the TV show Naked and Afraid. Not wearing shoes on tough terrain is awful.

Before hitting the road, I decided to take a quick pee break, and that was a mistake. I went into one of the stalls and didn't notice the puddle that had amassed on the floor. My. Foot. Got. Wet. And I can only guess about the makeup of the water. I shrieked, tried to rinse my feet and flips flops off in the sink, and then immediately used my hand wipes I had in my purse to try to disinfect everything. I am all about the relaxed, island living, but can't we prioritize hygiene over surfing?!

Somewhere along the way I also got a bug bite that is about the size of a quarter. The good news is that it appears to be alone. I'm glad we bought bug spray, and I'm sorry for the deet, environment.

The drive back went much more quickly than the drive there, since Eddie was a bit more comfortable and took the turns a bit quicker. We stopped in Pa'ia to get our daily shaved ice (it's going to be a daily thing if I can help it), and then went back to the hotel for a much-needed shower.

We made it just in time for our dinner reservation at one of the restaurants on property, Duo. It's a steak and seafood joint that does a raw bar on Tuesday nights. I opted for steak, and Eddie courted mercury poisoning at the raw bar. It was a delicious meal that ended with cotton candy - grape-flavored cotton candy. I am the weirdo who lives for artificial grape. I think it's because my sister liked it, and when I was little I idolized my sister. I liked everything she liked - even when I didn't (case in point Apple Jacks are disgusting, yet I requested them for years). But, the artificial grape thing stuck, much to my father's chagrin. It was so good, and our waiter sent us home with an extra in a bag.

We still have much excitement and relaxation on the docket for the rest of the trip. So make sure to check back for another post or two before we say Aloha, Maui!

Maui

Ever since our arrival in California, I've had trouble committing to making plans. So when Eddie insisted that he needed a vacation, I agreed we should bite the bullet and plan something. It didn't take long to decide: Maui.

Neither of us had ever been, and Hawaii is super easy from California. So, we booked our tickets and started making plans.

The hardest part turned out to be saying goodbye to the dog. As the sitter went to take him away, he turned back a little confused but then merrily trotted alongside her. I'm convinced he won't want to come home with us as she will take him on daily hikes and adventures with all his little doggo friends. But, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it Saturday.

We splurged and flew first out here. I find that chatting with the flight attendants (and copious drinks) helps my nerves on the flight. I asked the two that were in the front their least favorite route and both answered LAX <-> JFK, which wasn't the least bit surprising. Our pilot wasn't very communicative. We spent an inordinate amount of time sitting on the tarmac waiting for takeoff without a peep from the cockpit. One minute we're sitting, the next it's wheels up. Normally you get a little bit of play-by-play (we're third in line/next in line, etc).

About halfway there we heard from him that we were going to be over some weather that would make the next half hour pretty bumpy. I grabbed Eddie's hand and squeezed it with varying intensity for the duration of the bumps. At one point the flight attendants were advised to stick close to their seats, which always sends my anxiety into overdrive. If they're up and about, I know it isn't that bad. It's when they strap in that makes my butt pucker.

Thanks to some yoga breathing, I made it through - and promptly asked for a cocktail. As we approached land, the flight attendant warned me it would be bumpy and windy coming into Maui. But, bumpy landings don't bother me too much, because I know the torture is almost over. We landed safely and made our way outside into the airport. Which, what?! I was pretty amused by the concept that everything is outside, but I guess it makes sense given the climate. There are also a lot of wild roosters around the airport, which also struck me as strange.

We waited for the Hertz shuttle for what felt like an eternity but finally got our car. The shuttle driver did not give the impression of loving her job. She said mahalo at the end of the trip, but her tone betrayed her.

We made a quick Costco run for sunscreen, champagne, and assorted chocolates for gifts and headed to our hotel.

As another splurge, we're staying at the Four Seasons Maui. I've only been to Hawaii once (Oahu with my sister about 18 years ago), and I was very upset I wasn't greeted anywhere with a lei. Television and movies had lied to me. I thought you landed and immediately were presented with a lei by a dude in a Hawaiian shirt or a lady in a grass skirt. Thankfully, the Four Seasons greets you properly, and I finally got lei'd (hacky joke - I know, and I'm sorry).

The property is beautiful, and the staff is all so friendly. Everywhere we walk, each worker we encounter greets us with an enthusiastic aloha and smile. Our room was ready shortly after our arrival (yay for the Amex fine hotels and resorts early check in benefit), and we did a little exploring of the property.

We got lunch at THE restaurant on property that serves it, which quickly decimated the $100 food and beverage credit that is also included as part of the Amex deal. We both opted for something containing raw ahi tuna (mine was a wrap; his was a poke bowl) and a cocktail while soaking in our ocean view and perfect weather. After, we wandered down to the beach for a little while and then decided to go shopping and procure Hawaiian shirts for Eddie.

There's a little shopping center about a half mile from our hotel, so we walked. The shops are a mix of high end and surfer mall fare (Quicksilver contrasted with Gucci), and we found this local Hawaiian shop called Tori Richard. I have a new obsession. Eddie got some great shirts, and I got two dresses I don't need. I find most women's clothes in Hawaii to either skew mature woman (read: grandmother) or slutty teenager. There isn't much I've found in between. We'll, Tori had me covered. The clothes are vibrant and flattering without making me feel menopausal or pre-pubescent. And worst of all they ship to the mainland tax-free. I'm in trouble...

After shopping we got ready for dinner at a fancy place a friend from college who lives here had recommended called Ka'ana Kitchen. It was phenomenal. We both did a mini tasting menu with wine pairing while enjoying an amazing sunset ocean view.

We ate on the early side, and were back at the hotel by 8:00. Since we'd taken the 7 a.m. flight out of SFO and been up since 1:30 a.m. local time, I was asleep by 8:30.

It was a great first day, and this trip is just what the doctor ordered (except not literally, because I plan to eat and drink to excess).

The First Month (and then some) with Reese

The day we brought Reese home

It's been about a month and half since we brought home a little ball of love and sharp teeth that forever changed our lives. Reese no longer mostly fits on our laps - though that doesn't stop him from sitting on them. And though we've had him a short time, we can't imagine our lives without him.

Still a lap dog

The first weeks were challenging (just read older posts from this blog for details). But we've mostly come through the other side. I hear puppies go through a regression around 7 months, which I am not looking forward to. But, I love him so much and will steel myself for whatever nonsense we have to put up with (but please don't let it be biting...).

Reese is an incredibly social pup - I think he takes after me. Every time I take him out, he pulls toward the dog run so he can look for his friends. And when it's empty, he just sits on the fake grass looking so forlorn. There is a really great pack of pups in the building, but he seems especially partial to the Frenchies. His best friend is a 2-year old boy Frenchie named Beni, and he has a little girlfriend named Bou who is about a month younger than him.

Reese and Bou

A woman in our building runs a doggie daycare/walking service, and she's been kind enough to coordinate daily meetups with me as well as letting us crash some of her adventures hiking and to the beach. Reese loves it, and I love how tired and well behaved he is when we return home.

He's been a huge ray of sunshine and provided some much-needed structure to my day as I continue my job hunt. Even in spite of the early (and probably pending) challenges, I wouldn't change bringing this guy into our lives for anything.

Things I Have Pulled from My Dog's Mouth

We have done a pretty good job of puppy proofing our apartment. If we don't want him to eat it, we make sure it's put away or he isn't left alone with it. People who don't know me better might think I don't have many shoes, since most of them are now living behind a closed closet door. But, I can't puppy proof the outside world, and "leave it" and "drop it" are not commands that Reese is really comprehending or heeding. So, I have had the unenviable task of fully reaching into my dog's mouth to pull out all manner of debris. Here's a short list:

• Leaves (probably somewhere around 100 of them in the 3 weeks we've had Reese)
• Clumps of grass
• A rubber band
• A potato chip
• The hair from one of the stuffed squirrels that is part of one of his toys
• Sticks
• Bark
• Tennis ball fuzz (a lot of tennis ball fuzz)
• Tags from a blanket and dog bed
• Half a cookie he found in a yard while we were walking him - he tried to go back for that one

And these are just the things I have caught him eating. I am sure I have missed many chunks of trash that he's managed to ingest. And perhaps I am being overly paranoid, but I am doing my damndest to avoid doggie diarrhea. 

I can honestly say I never thought I would be so comfortable forcing a dog's mouth, sticking my fingers in there, and fishing out contraband. I guess we can call this growth?

One thing that has come out of his mouth without me pulling are puppy teeth:

 

So far, I have found three. They're so small and light - it's hard to believe that this tiny, hollow pieces of bone have left me so scratched and bruised! Hopefully as he loses the last of these guys, some of his need to chew and eat everything (whether or not it's food) will also fade away!

It's Been A Ruff Week

Reese has hurt his paw somehow - lord only knows how. It doesn't seem all that severe an injury, but the vet has ordered that we restrict his activity until it heals. That is certainly easier said than done. He wants to tear around and play, and we keep having to tell him no and confine him for fear he'll make his injury worse. We've also had to alter his bathroom route to ensure we taking him on short, quick walks - all business.

Our building has this great little dog run. It's covered in astroturf, has doggie poop bags, and a drinking fountain for the pups. It also allows me to let him off leash and get some of the energy out with other dogs from the building. But, since he can't play or walk far, we can't take him there right now. It just feels cruel.

We need that space in the building, because we live right downtown. There aren't a ton of green spaces for people or dogs. But, it so happens there is a law office with some grass across the street from our building. It's a super short walk, and I always pick up after him. Plus, this law office is clearly meant to service the county jail - we're not talking about some fancy white shoe firm trying to up its curb appeal or something. Well, we've been taking Reese there to do his business while he heals. Perhaps it's a dick move, but I always clean up the mess and properly dispose of the waste. And he likes to just sit in the grass over there in the shade and watch the world go by (sometimes too much when he refuses to move).

Today, after receiving a rather gutting job rejection email for a position I was pretty stoked about, I went to take Reese out. As he is sniffing around, this dude approaches me all heated asking me how I would feel about letting dogs use my lawn as a toilet. He goes off on me with this tirade and then has the audacity to tell me he's nicely asking me to take my dog elsewhere. I let him know he's not exactly asking nicely and leave. I cross the street and promptly start bawling.

The transition out here hasn't been easy. I have been picky with my job search, because I want to find the right position. But, not working has made it really hard to fully settle. I am starting to worry a bit about money, meeting people is a challenge, and I miss the stimulation and interaction a full-time job affords. Reese has been a good distraction, but he's also a big challenge and has severely limited my sleep.

So, I am feeling a little raw when some schlubby-looking asshole starts yelling at me about the unkempt grass in front of his place of employment dying because of dog pee.

My disappointment about this job will pass. Reese will heal. And hopefully, he will get easier to control and be able to go longer overnight so we all sleep better. But, and yes it's hack-y to say, I am currently having a RUFF time. 

Getting Out in the World

One of the things Eddie and I were most excited about when we thought about getting a dog was the idea of taking it places when the weather is nice. There are so many great restaurants and bars with dog-friendly patios. We had this fantasy of enjoying a meal or drink while our doggo laid placidly at our feet. Well, it should come as no surprise that, as with most things, the reality did not live up to the fantasy.

Our first attempt was largely a disaster. Last Friday (day 10 with the pupper) we attempted to go to dinner in our neighborhood. We have this stretch of restaurants with outdoor patios that allow dogs, so we figured we would try one out. We made sure he was fed and took care of his business before we attempted the adventure. When he seemed set, I grabbed the training treats, and we headed out. It was a mistake.

Friday night is super busy on this particular stretch, and it was a real effort to run Reese through the gauntlet of people we encountered. He was clearly overwhelmed, and it did not help that people were coming up and trying to pet him without asking us or waiting for him to approach them. But, we finally made it to a restaurant and got a table.

At first, he was fine. He sat and then laid down. I did my best to reinforce the behavior - offering praise and treats. Then, I asked the server if he could bring some sort of dish of water for Reese. He obliged by bringing a to-go carton filled with water. At first, Reese seemed appreciative and drank. But, after a couple minutes, he proceeded to knock the makeshift bowl over and tear apart the paper. So, I took that away and tried to move him to the other side of the table where there was less action happening. But, the other side of the table was flanked by large plants that proved too irresistible to leave alone. After a few minutes I found myself having to reach into my dog's mouth and pull out large chunks of leaves and other plant matter. And now matter how hard we tried, we could not get him to leave the plants alone. So, Eddie and I traded him off until I finished my entree, and I ran him home to leave him in the kennel while we finished our evening.

It was clearly too much too soon. So, this week I am working on smaller outings. The other day, I just sat with Reese in front of our building for 10 minutes. And today, we had a major breakthrough: we made it to Peet's!

Peet's is 0.3 miles walking from our apartment. By myself, it takes about 5-7 minutes to walk. With the pup, it took about 20. There was a stop to poop on the steps of the county building. There is tons of grass around, so his choice of location almost felt like a political statement. Then, we got scared by the sounds of some construction in our path, which stopped us dead in our tracks for a few minutes. We also stopped to say hello to a Husky we met along the way. But, we made it. I tied him up outside with a favorite toy and went in when I saw there was no line.

He seemed pretty distressed by my 90 second absence while I got my coffee, but once I came out he settled down. When he sat on his own, he got a treat. As he sat quietly and calmly, he got a treat. He even laid down for a bit, and he got a treat. We were able to sit there pretty well for about 20-30 minutes. Then, it seemed like his little meter ran out. Luckily, my coffee was also gone, so we headed home.

We made it home much faster than we made it to Peet's, and he sacked out from our adventure once we did. I am glad we made the trip. It was a good confidence boost for both of us. With time, I am hopeful we can make our fantasy of dining al fresco with the dog a reality!

Finding My Inner Alpha

Don't be fooled by the innocent look in these eyes: this dog can be a monster. He's a puppy. He is learning how to behave in the world. I have been trying to get him as much exposure to other dogs as possible without yet being able to take him to a dog park or big play group since he still needs his last canine influenza shot. After all, well-behaved dogs are the best teachers for a mischievous puppy.

What I am noticing is that he's real slow to pick up what other dogs (and what I for that matter) are putting down when it comes to play. He's so excited and enthusiastic that he doesn't get that bared teeth and growl from a dog means "stop jumping on my face," or that me walking away means, "I really like these jeans - stop eating them while they are still on my body."

My hands and forearms are covered in scratches from his razor-sharp puppy teeth. Several items of clothing have small holes from his repeated and insistent biting. And, there are nights that dealing with him nearly brings me to tears. I try to remember this is just a phase, and then I try to find a way to make it stop - or at least keep it from escalating to the point where I start bleeding.

All the advice I have read about physically removing myself or yelping does not work. For Reese, he just assume this is how I play. I walk away, and he thinks, "YAY we're playing chase!!!" I yelp, and he thinks, "OOOOH. I am so winning the game." I give him a toy, and he thinks, "Okay, lemme hone my chewing and chasing skills, so that we can get back to the really fun game where I bite her hands, feet, and legs." I sometimes worry our dog will develop a taste for human flesh if I don't put a stop to this and soon! So, I am working on a new strategy: showing him I am the alpha. When he starts getting really bite-y, I don't walk away. I walk toward him. I make him back away. I am calm, but I am firm - as Cesar Milan used to say on Dog Whisperer, I project "calm, assertive energy." I need to show him that I am pack leader, and I am not going to tolerate that kind of crap in my den.

While it doesn't necessarily stop play time, so far it seems to keep it from escalating. And, and this point, I will take it. He's going to be a big boy, and we need to nip all the nipping in the bud. Reese really is a sweet, good natured boy. And the sooner we exorcise (and exercise) away the demon dog, the happier we will all be! Until then, I just need to continue to show him that I am the bad bitch in the house, and he needs to respect my authoritay.

Puppy Perils

Puppy parenting is tough. I may not have kids, but I have been around them enough to know that having a puppy is combining the neediness (and frequent cleaning up of pee and poop) of a newborn with the destructiveness of a sugar-crazed toddler with scissors. We are learning that Reese is three dogs in one.

First, there is our sweet, lovable cuddler. The guy whose whole butt wags when we let him out of the crate in the morning or when we return from around a corner where he can't see us. He's our favorite.

Then, we have lead puppy. Lead puppy refuses to move for reasons that are never entirely clear. He sits or lays down and shall not be moved. The above photo demonstrates his, "bitch, I ain't going nowhere" face. Lead puppy is a real problem when we know that Reese has to go out. According to all the training literature I have been reading, picking him up is problematic. Apparently, he needs to decide that he wants to go (eye roll). While I am not sure I totally buy the philosophy, I will say that finding an alternative to picking him up would be good - he's 30 pounds of puppy now, but will probably reach more than 60 pounds of dog in a few months.

Finally, and this guy is our least favorite, we have what we've termed "Demon Dog." Reese is a puppy, and he loves to play. And when he gets really amped up, it's hard to de-escalate. He starts getting more intense with the biting and snarling, and getting him to stop when he's at 11 feels impossible. I've watched a bunch of puppy training videos, read many posts from experts, and consulted the trainer we're working with. We've tried redirecting the energy to training, which works until I am tired of making him sit, come, lie down, go into his kennel, etc. We've tried physically removing ourselves from his reach until he calms down. We've tried giving him more appropriate things to chew (bully stick, kong, toys). We've even tried corrections with the leash - that just lead him to attacking the crap out of the leash and thinking we're playing a new game. Nothing has been a silver bullet, and it really seems like the key is to try to intervene when he starts to get excited and keep the intensity level lower. But, that can be easier said than done - especially if you're trying to get something done. So, I also try to get him out of the house frequently in an effort to burn the puppy energy off. But, while he seems subdued and tired out in the world, coming through the door to the apartment reinvigorates him, and he starts tearing around like a crazy pup.

We don't totally know Reese's story. Pets in Need picks up dogs from other kill shelters and will keep them until they find their forever home. Reese was brought into a shelter in the Central Valley. It seems that someone had loved and cared for him - his ears were clean; his nails were trimmed; he wasn't dirty or mange-y. But, he had been abandoned. Someone found him and turned him into the shelter in Madera. I am guessing someone fell in love with cuddle-y Reese and couldn't manage Demon Dog. We're not giving up on him - I could never unless he really became aggressive or dangerous. But, I suddenly understand why so many rescues are utterly insane about the adoption process. They don't want people bringing the dog back - or worse abandoning it to a kill shelter.

I am getting A LOT of unsolicited advice about how to "raise" my puppy. (Side note: I can only imagine how much more infuriating it would be to get that sort of advice about a child). I am clearly no expert, but I will say think long and hard if you're thinking about a puppy and never had one. It can be really frustrating and stressful to deal with the puppy energy - and frankly painful with those razor teeth. And from what I have been reading, this is a thing all puppies will go through to some degree. So, if you're going to commit to a pup, make sure you're ready to meet and love the Mr. Hyde to your sweet Dr. Jekyll. 

Puppy Love

Meet Reese. He's our new puppy, and as the title of this post suggests, we are totally smitten.

I have always wanted a dog, but my mother was the crazy person who put in white carpet. Her vision wasn't that great when I was growing up, but she could see a speck on the carpet from 50 feet away. Her obsession with the carpet was so extreme that my father used to joke that if she ever went into cardiac arrest, someone need only yell, "What's that on the carpet?", and she would come right back to us. So, needless to say, my childhood was pet-free (save for a beta fish that lived about 2 weeks).

In college, Eddie and I adopted a cat. She was the sweetest kitty I've ever met; she absolutely loved people and attention. She would come greet us at the door, cuddle on our laps, and get very jealous when Eddie and I would hug, because we weren't paying attention to her. In fact, some of my friends even referred to her as a "dog cat." But, she HATED other animals, making the prospect of a canine brother or sister impossible. So, Eddie and I always thought we would get a dog when she was no longer with us. When we finally had to put her down in 2016, I was so shattered from the experience that I couldn't fathom signing up for that eventual heartbreak again.

We discussed it on an off for a long time - we even knew what we wanted to get: a Bernese Mountain Dog. They were big, fluffy, and lazy. Since Eddie and I both worked and were gone long hours, we wanted a dog that would just lay about while we were gone - one that didn't need marathon walks in order to behave. And, because the weather tended to be shitty at least half the year in DC, we figured the lazier the better.

But then we moved back to California, and I did so without a job. Now I am living somewhere that's usually somewhere around 60 degrees all year long, and I have nothing but time on my hands. Suddenly, a very expensive dog that doesn't want to be active isn't so appealing. Plus, I have always had some guilt about the idea of buying a dog - no judgement, I was just always a bit conflicted. So, I started poking around websites for local rescues and found one that was walking distance from our apartment: Pets in Need.

After a false start with an adorable shepherd mix the shelter wouldn't let us have (our building has breed restrictions, and she was clearly a mix of two of them), we found Reese. He's adorable. affectionate, trainable, and super charming. But, he is SO.MUCH.WORK. I knew puppies were hard - I knew they needed lots of exercise, stimulation, and to be let out to pee many MANY times a day. But, I had no concept of how hard it was going to be.

Right now he's very attached to us - and me (the one who gives the food) in particular. He follows me everywhere in our open floor plan. If I am in the kitchen, he is in the kitchen. If I am in the living room, he's in the living room. Never mind that there aren't any walls between the two. He just needs to be close. In fact, for the first time since I was potty trained, I am allowing someone to sit and watch me pee. If I don't, he just whines and gets very distressed.

We're all getting used to this new arrangement, and I am coming to grips with the fact that my home smells like dog (he's getting groomed as soon as we're done with the vaccines, and I am buying stock in Febreeze). But, even with all the work, frustration, and exhaustion, I can't imagine not having this sweet pupper in our lives. 💖

The Ultimate Sacrifice

It's a new year, which means a renewed optimism for getting stuff (like blogging) done! So, I have decided to try to recommit to writing here, and I can think of no better subject than my epic struggle to combat the weight gain that the stress of moving caused.

Being diabetic always makes weight management challenging. Insulin produces fat or something, so having a constant flow of insulin pumped into my body makes staying skinny an uphill battle. When you add the additional problem of low blood sugar necessitating extra calories (that are all sugar) to address, it becomes even more futile. But, on top of all the normal trouble I have, I sort of threw myself a several months long pity party about the move.

It's been a rough adjustment. I miss my friends, my house, and gainful employment (and the income that comes with it). Making friends has been hard here, and the friends we do have are busy with jobs, kids, or just other stuff in their lives that doesn't stop just because I'm here and lonely. I still don't have a job, so I haven't created a good routine for myself. What's more, after a long day all alone, when Eddie gets home I just want to open a nice bottle of wine as we discuss our unevenly busy days and enjoy whatever meal I've created. With the added bonus of not having to get up at any specific time the next day, the imbibing may have gotten a wee bit excessive. So, I am trying to remedy this in 2019 and am taking a mini break from booze.

This isn't a new year's resolution (because gross), nor is this a dryuary (too hard - especially with an upcoming weekend in Carmel this month). This is about trying to reset myself a bit and start the year healthier and more positive. One of the problems with drinking when you're already sad is that it can make you more sad (alcohol is a depressant after all), and I have had more than a couple wine-induced sobbing fits since settling here. So, taking a break is also helping my mood. But, and I admit this with a twinge of shame, this is HARD.

I love wine. I love the taste. I love pairing it with food. I love the warm, calming influence that a nice glass of red gives me. Also, there are certain foods and places where having a drink has become a near Pavlovian response. There is also the social element - we have cemented many a new friendship over drinks, and we're actively trying to make friends. So, going cold turkey, even for only 2.5 weeks, is rough.

I will admit I am sleeping and feeling better. And while I haven't noticed a difference at the scale yet, I am certainly hoping I will. Because even though the cold turkey phase won't be a permanent change, I do plan to try to cut back this year and only drink an amount that doesn't make me feel like I need to lie to a medical professional.

So, fingers crossed that this kick start in empty calorie cutting pays off. And hopefully the job hunt will get more fruitful soon, and the introduction of a more strict routine will bolster my weight loss efforts (see already being more positive). In the meantime, have a glass for me. Cheers!

The Trouble with Temporary Housing

I knew that moving would be an adjustment. I knew it would be a bit lonely at first. And I knew the temporary housing wouldn't really feel like home. I guess I underestimated just how profoundly this all would affect me.

Our temporary housing looks really cool, and it is in a prime location.

But, it's not exactly built for long-term living. We're here for 5 weeks total, and two weeks in, the charms have worn thin. The kitchen is woefully under-equipped, especially given how much I have been trying to cook (both to save money and calories). We only have 4 of everything in terms of plates, flat wear and glasses, which means I run the dishwasher every day. For contrast, I registered for 20 of everything at my wedding, and we continue to fill in our collection with serving platters and bowls. I have burned the shit out of our pyrex dish twice trying to pretend it's a roasting pan. The second time, I had to soak it for three days and scrape it with a knife before putting it in the dishwasher. The meals, thankfully, weren't ruined, but the pan sure looks like they should have been. We had to buy a kitchen knife, because the ones provided are super dull. But, we haven't wanted to buy too much kitchen stuff, as we have everything we need sitting in storage.

The floors throughout the apartment are concrete, save for a super long grey shag rug in the living room. I swear, it looks like they an elderly skinned a muppet to make it.

As I am home most of the day every day as I look for a job and discover the wonders of On Demand television (we have TiVo, and it's incompatible with normal on demand, so I feel like Jasmine in Aladdin - I am in a whole new world), I have been made keenly aware of how hard and cold these floors are. Plus, they are grey, so while I know they are dirty and grime-y, I can't really see where to clean. I tried to vacuum the other day. But, I couldn't get the darned thing to work on the shag carpet. I couldn't push it forward; I could only pull it back. So, I am walking backwards up and down the tiny area rug trying desperately to get up some of the crumbs and muck I know have taken root since our arrival (or perhaps before it). And as I went along, the carpet started to resemble the screen while playing Dig Dug. But, I had to give up when I started to smell burning.

Our washer/dryer is a combo washer and dryer, which means our laundry never dries. It washes fine, but the dry cycle mostly just creates super hot, super damp laundry after 2 hours or more of continual energy usage. Thankfully, the utilities here are not our problem. Both it and the dishwasher seem to leak a little, which would be more worrying if we were here longer.

The clothing storage is also lacking. We have one closet and dresser, which means that we still have a lot of clothes in suitcases that we're unable to unpack.

On the positive side, we do have a cute little balcony outside our living room. BUT, it is right off a park and an office building, so we have had to shoo people off of it more than once. I asked the management company about putting up a sign, but the property manager said all signs need to be approved by the city, and that process takes longer than we will be here. So, I took matters into my own hands and tied a string across the railings for the stairs.

So far, it seems to be working - though it obviously didn't deter some super bold baby squirrels who were running around outside our apartment like crazy the other day - and that was loitering I didn't mind.

I guess what I am struggling with most is being homesick for a place that is no longer my home. I miss my 3 bedroom, 3.5 bathroom townhouse with a private roof deck (and the incredible neighbors we had there). I miss my bed and couch and kitchen tools. I hope that when we move into our real apartment on the 22nd and get back our furniture and other stuff that the Bay Area can start to feel more like home again. Until then, I will continue to MacGyver solutions to what this place is lacking and try to not get too blue thinking about what I've left behind.

Bay Area Pros and Cons

Well, we traveled through 12 states including Virginia and California and finally arrived in Palo Alto. The trip was a fun adventure - we saw the country, saw friends and family, and spent a lot of quality time together. But, all things must end, and now I am here trying to fill my days without spending money.

The temporary housing is right in the middle of Palo Alto. There is plenty within walking distance (including the Stanford Shopping Center, which is super dangerous), and I have been enjoying the perfect Bay Area weather as I get a handle on my new surroundings.

But, now that we're settling into a new routine here, I have quickly been reminded of everything I loved and everything I loathed about living here. We can start with the positives:

The weather is amazing. The persistent drought means lots of sunshine, but thankfully I think the ocean/bay keeps it pretty mild. And the fog is an SF thing - it doesn't really extend to the peninsula.

There is so much good food - especially Asian and Mexican, two areas that were often lacking in DC.

Being in the Pacific Time Zone makes it much easier to talk to my sister (in Los Angeles) and my parents (in AZ which doesn't do daylight savings so is either the same time zone or an hour ahead).

People actually care about the environment here. We have compost in our building, and it's so easy to recycle or compost everywhere. I was always skeptical that our recycling in DC and VA didn't just end up in a landfill. AND, I had to pay to compost in VA.

Friendlier people - it might be the weather or just the laid back west coast vibes (and more lenient liquor laws), but people are just so much nicer here. I have often thought that part of what makes the east coast more uptight is that it was settled by puritans while the west was settled by cowboys!

Proximity to Napa. I love wine, and am especially partial to California wines (though not the super oak-y, buttery chardonnays). So, being a quick drive to Napa will be pretty amazing - but bad for my liver and bank account.

Reconnecting with old friends. I am not the world's best long distance friend - especially when contending with three time zones. But, I've already made plans with many people I was devastated to leave 11 years ago, and they are all excited we're back (or so they tell me 😉). I am thankful they've remained in our lives, and I can't wait to build new memories and traditions with them all.

Now the bad...

It's so expensive. And I don't want to hear anyone from the DC area chime in with "but it's expensive here too." You don't know from expensive until you've lived in the Bay Area. I paid $5 for a 12 ounce iced coffee today, and our rent for an apartment in Redwood City will be more than our mortgage payment for our 3 bedroom 3.5 bathroom house with a roof deck.

Related: We may never be able to afford a house - at least not a house we want. There is very little inventory for housing to begin with, given how many people live and want to live here. So, whenever some teeny tiny little money pit of a home comes on the market, there tends to be an all-out bidding war - and it's even worse when a good property becomes available.

Earthquakes. I know there are extreme weather events and natural disasters on the east coast too (including one mini quake I experienced), but I was in LA for the big Northridge quake in the 90s, and it was a scarring experience. I always thanked my lucky stars I got outta Cali before being in another big one. And now I am back. Joy.

The Bay Area bubble. There is a weird sort of snobbery in the Bay Area. It's almost like a contest to have the most liberal guilt. There aren't many conservatives here (well, many out conservatives), so you don't get the sort of political debate one can expect in DC. I had a lot of friends in DC that I didn't agree with politically, but I really enjoyed discussing the very things we disagreed on. They were informed and astute and weren't basing opinions on news stories (or worse headlines of news stories). People are smart here, of course. But when you live and work in DC - especially if your job touches on the federal government or Congress - you get a deeper understanding of how things work (or don't work as the case may be), and it all becomes less black and white. Here political discourse just feels very colored by the prevailing, deeply liberal ideology.

But, I think what I struggle with most is the fact we've left behind the incredible life we'd built in DC. I will miss the house that we built, painstakingly selecting finishes and details all while trying not to go nuts on upgrades. I will miss the family we created with our amazing friends. I know there is email, and texting, and old-school phone calls (plus the ability to visit), but it isn't the same. We've been through some truly wretched crap over the last couple years, and I don't think I could have made it through without all the love and support from those amazing people. I will miss being able to meet up for lunch, after work drinks, or on the weekend.

But, DC had its negatives too. I won't miss the humidity. I definitely won't miss the bugs. And I won't miss the DC bubble (i.e., DC is the center of the universe, and of course everyone can name several cabinet-level Secretaries - what is wrong with you if you don't know who heads up HHS or Labor or Education?!). Plus, I know that moving here made Eddie incredibly happy, and in our marriage, his joy is my joy. Thankfully, his money is also my money - especially until I find a job!

I guess for now I just need to focus on the positives (and start clipping coupons and putting together my earthquake kit to mitigate some of the negatives). Thankfully, there are quite a few to focus on when I start to get sad.

Do partial blondes have marginally more fun?

We arrived in Phoenix and promptly fully unloaded all of our crap at my parents' house. It was so liberating to check into a hotel with one suitcase - and our hotel in Phoenix was sprawling. To get to our room, we had to go up two flights of stairs, across a bridge, up several more stairs, and then up one more flight of stairs to cross another bridge. There were elevators except for the few stairs after the first bridge. It would have taken probably an hour and several trips to manage it all. So, bless my parents for allowing us to over take their entryway with all of our crap.

We visited with my parents (and put in a load of laundry) and then headed to my favorite Mexican restaurant for dinner with our friends L and D. This Mexican restaurant is probably not a place I would go, had I found it now. It's a total hole in the wall with tacky decors (think velvet paintings) and a layer of grime that will never come up. But it's so so so good. I think it has the best cheese enchiladas of any place I've tried. Yes, there is a pool of grease on the plate when you're done, and the next day is always gastronomically unpleasant, but it's worth it. They also always have cheese crisp, which my Phoenix friends and I have discovered is a totally non-existent thing outside the state of AZ. It's a shame, because it's pretty amazing. It's essentially an open faced quesadilla, but I think they fry the tortilla first. I'm shocked it hasn't caught on elsewhere. It's both crunchy and cheesy, which are America's favorite flavors.

We had a great time with L and D, who are expecting their first baby this month. I've known L for most of my life, but we only became close at the end of high school. Now she's one of my best friends, and I'm excited we'll be geographically closer to her and her little one.  We said goodnight and headed to our hotel, giddy with the knowledge that we wouldn't be getting on the road the next day.

The next morning, we continued our eating tour of Phoenix with breakfast at this place called Snooze that we originally discovered in San Diego. It's probably the best breakfast place ever. It's a small chain with locations in California, Arizona, Colorado, and I think Texas. They make some incredible creations and have insane portions.

After breakfast, we innocently went into Athleta where I accidentally spent $200. In my defense, it was early access to friends and family, so I got 20% off my purchase. Eddie wasn't pleased, but it made me happy.

We dropped my mom off to go in search of a touch less car wash to deal with the insect graveyard that used to be our car. It has to be touch less, because the spinning brush things are harsh on the fancy Tesla paint.

Since we spent some time at my happy place, I obliged Eddie with a trip to Fry's Electronics. He needed an external hard drive to save our dash cam footage, because he wants to do something with all of it when we're done. I'll believe that when I see it, but we didn't have anything else to do that day.

I'm not sure if you've had the pleasure to experience a Fry's, but it's Aztec themed. I love the show Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, and one of the characters works at a place called Aloha Tech or something. I just thought it was a gag about southern California, but I think it's mocking Fry's. Entering the building reminded me of the Indiana Jones ride at Disney. There are all these fake stones and edifices in and outside of the building. Eddie poked around, and I had to use the bathroom. I have a sneaking suspicion that Fry's doesn't get many female customers. The bathroom had no purse hooks in any of the stalls, the stalls were super tiny, and I don't think they had the AC on in there.

Because of the aforementioned tiny stalls, I used a handicap one where the toilet paper dispenser was on the opposite wall from the toilet, necessitating that I stretch to reach it - all while trying to hold onto my purse with my other hand. 

We left Fry's with my grumbling about the bathroom experience, and Eddie dropped me off for my haircut. The woman who cuts my hair in Phoenix gave me my first haircut and many important pieces of life advice. The most memorable was given when I was in college, and it was that I would never orgasm until the man "made love to my mind." All through college and my first decade in DC, I would fly to get a haircut. She charges me nothing, does a fantastic job, and I don't get haircuts that often. So, I would visit my folks once or twice a year and get my hair done. I don't think it's that weird.

Well, I was ecstatic to see Pilar on this trip and decided I needed some blond in my hair before moving to California. New coast, new 'do, right? So, now I'm partially blond and hoping I'll have marginally more fun!

After my time at the salon, we went back to my parents' house where my mom was making us dinner. I think I may have made my mom's year by requesting that she cook. I don't think I've asked her to make me food for more than a decade. I usually want to hit up my favorite restaurants when visiting Phoenix, and I do a lot of cooking, so I'm not lacking for a homemade meal.

Well, she pulled out all the stops. Not only did I get the fancy rib roast from the kosher butcher in Los Angeles, but we ate in the dining room with the fancy silver. We've been eating out for what feels like two solid months between our farewell tour in DC, our trip to Portugal, and now this road trip. It was really nice to just have a meal that wasn't prepared at a restaurant. My mom also made soup despite it being 104 degrees outside. But she loves her soup, and it would have felt weird not to have it with a meal she had prepared.

After dinner, we went down the street to see the only other high school friend I actively keep up with, E and her husband B. We visited for a bit and had some of her mom's home brewed kombucha. It was delicious, and even Eddie enjoyed it. I might need to pick up a new hobby in California!

Today we loaded up the car to head to Los Angeles. We're nearing the end of our adventures and will imminently embark on our new lives. But, first we'll spend a little quality time in LA with my sister.

Bizarro Phoenix

Albuquerque is a lot like Phoenix. It's got big streets that connect an endless sea of strip malls. A lot of the architecture leans into the southwest thing - desert colors, Pueblo looking exteriors. And the city is also largely surrounded by mountains. But, the names of the grocery stores and restaurants are unfamiliar. So, bizarro Phoenix.

We're staying at a Sheraton here. It's got a Tesla charger and is fine. But apparently it was the site of a kiddie beauty pageant this summer. I discovered that gem when I noticed a schedule of events on our door. Some highlights:

• A Cinderella check in
• Tot personality competition
• And, of course, the casual wear modeling competition.

We went to dinner at an Italian place in a neighborhood called Nob Hill, but I couldn't help but feel like we were in some rebranded, recently gentrified part of town. The meal was pretty good, and the service was very friendly and eager.

Today we leave for real Phoenix, and I'm so excited. First, we get to see friends and my parents. Second, we are staying in a hotel but leaving our excess baggage with my parents. So, when we check into our hotel, we will have one suitcase and a small bag or two - like normal people. Third, we're staying two nights, meaning we get a break from all the loading, unloading and driving. Fourth, I get to eat cheese crisp at my favorite hole in the wall Mexican place.

Mountains make me happy

After having one last super sized meal in Texas at the Ye Olde Pancake Station, we got on the highway to finally leave Texas. But first we had to check out Cadillac Ranch. Just outside Amarillo are several old Cadillacs buried in the ground. Over the years, visitors have taken to tagging them with spray paint, ranging from Banksy wannabees to the standard X+Y in a heart. The cars are so thick with paint that the are bumpy and textured. And the fields around them are littered with hundreds of cans and tops for spray paint that these amateur artists have discarded upon completing their masterpieces (that have subsequently been painted over by some other asshole).

Breakfast - Texas-sized

As we left Texas, we passed a huge cattle ranch that stunk something fierce. The Tesla comes with a bioweapon defense mode. It basically pushes all the air out of the car and then recycles super HEPA filtered air or something. According to Eddie, people mostly use it to clear out farts. We turned it on too late for it to help, and it taxed the AC system to such a degree we had to shut it off in order to not be dangerously low on juice when arriving at our next supercharger. So, we suffered until the stench cleared.

New Mexico had not one but three welcome signs - just in case you weren't sure that you'd actually left Texas after driving through it for hours on end. Slowly the scenery changed to redder rocks and more desert life. The altitude also changed and we started to see real mountains. People from the east coast protest when I say there are no mountains on that side of the country. But I'm sorry, the Smokey Mountains, Appalachian mountains, and others are glorified hills compared to the massive peaks that dominate the western skylines.

We made our way through the changing landscape to Santa Fe. We had lunch and walked around a bit before heading to Albuquerque where we'd spend the night.

42

In addition to being the answer to the universe's biggest question, it is now also the number of states I have visited with our trek through Oklahoma.

Though it's totally flat as far as the eye can see, Oklahoma was quite beautiful. The green fields are dotted with grazing cattle and the big blue sky is broken up by fluffy clouds hanging in the distance. There are also a huge number of wind turbines along the highway (I guess Oklahoma is where the wind comes sweeping down the plains, so it makes sense to harness it).

We stopped in downtown Oklahoma City for some BBQ and to visit the Oklahoma City federal building memorial. It's a beautiful tribute and very moving. They dedicated the last remaining wall from the building to the survivors and have chairs to represent all the dead - including some small chairs for the 19 children who were killed. 

It made me reflect on my time as a federal employee and think about all the kind, wonderful people who dedicated themselves to federal service. And given the current political climate, it made me fearful of other emboldened nut jobs who hate the government and demonstrate that in monstrous ways.

We left downtown and headed west to charge at another outlet mall. This one was much nicer and more lively than the one in Mississippi. We took our time and wandered through some stores before hitting the road once more.

Re-entering Texas felt sort of maddening - like our progress had been undone. But, it's a huge state, and this was not a new plan. We made our way to Shamrock, Texas for our next charge. The supercharger is at an old gas station that still has the old pumps out but obviously not working. When we arrived, it was late afternoon and everything was deserted. The bathroom there gave me the creeps big time. There was a haunted or Bates Motel vibe around the grounds. But, it was cool to see the old cars and gas pumps of a bygone era.

 

 

As we were mid-charge, a car pulled up with a couple greasy and shifty looking young men. One gave me the most unsettling look and wave, and I insisted that we leave immediately. Because we weren't done charging, we had to stay under 70 MPH until we reached Amarillo. But, I just had a bad feeling that we were sitting ducks with a lot of valuables in a very nice car who needed to get the heck outta there. Maybe I was wrong and overreacting. But, maybe I wasn't.

We finally arrived in Amarillo and had a gourmet meal at the Whataburger. Apparently, you can get avocado on your burger there now - classy. I had wanted to go while we were in Texas, so now the random junk food bucket list is complete (Bojangles and Waffle House were the other two). As we dined in our plastic booth, a stray dog wandered past the window, clearly looking for discarded burger bits. By the time we left, he was gone.