The durations between posts are getting shorter and shorter; a little victory to celebrate. Let's see if I can get them down to a day or two. Then, I can actually start calling this thing a journal. Let's see.......anything interesting happen in the past couple of weeks?
a) We found a family for our foster Jindo, Heppi (shown in white; pictured here with our Gilbey).
We've fostered him for two months now and it was difficult finding him a foster home. A lot of people were inquiring from out of the area and I couldn't really do an out-of-town adoption. First of all, I wouldn't be able to perform a home check, to make sure that the backyard was secure and the home was orderly. Secondly, it costs a bunch of money to transport a dog by plane. I think there are enough people willing to adopt Jindos here in the Bay Area. Never mind the number of Jindos in Southern California. There are apporximately 20-30 Jindos being put into SoCal shelters every week, and 80-90% of them are being killed. The situation is quite dire in Southern California. Owners need to take more responsibility for the living beings that they are harboring. Motherfuckers throw them into shelters, to take away their guilt, rationalizing their actions through every excuse in the book. It pisses me off royally.
Anyways, Heppi's new family will be a 6-person household, complete with four kids aged, 4,3,2, and 1. Yipes! Heppi will be a welcome edition to the family. I'm gonna miss the little fucker. Sure, he pissed all over my carpets, and pissed off my puppies once in a while, but sure is a beautiful young pup, and I love his personality. I'm just glad that I had a part in keeping him from being euthanized, as well as making a family happy by helping them find their forever dog.
b) Went camping with my group home kids. We went to a beautiful campsite in the Valley of the Moon. It was hardly work. As an overnight, all I had to do was stay awake from 10pm to 7am, which is a breeze for me anyway. All we did was chill in the cabin at night, read magazines, watch dvd's and walk around the campsite. All the overnights had these cheesy walkiee-talkies onand we were fucking around the whole night...."Roger, ten-four"..."breaker, breaker"...."over and out". To top it off, we had the rest of the day and evening to sleep, chill, and relax. So I brought my pup, Belle, with me and bullshitted all day. I only got 2 hours sleep each day, and hiked, jogged, napped, ate, and watched movies all day. It was like a vacation. My buddy brought his grill and fired up some thai marinated steak and herb-roasted chicken. We had a fridge full of mocha frappucinos from starbucks. The kids were great, and they had a lot of fun. I swear, I've never seen them so animated, and uninhibited. I'm just glad that I wasn't on for the regular day staff. All of them came home tired, bruised, bloody, and beaten. Alright, I'm exaggerating, but it's pretty close.
Here's a picture of where we went (this ain't the exact picture, but it was close; the campsite was nestled between Annadel state park and a couple of beautiful vineyards)-->
c) Got a new sectional couch from Macy's. I love this couch. It's microseude fiber, and it's as soft as a baby's butt. Jo and I love lounging on it. It has a chaise lounge that I love to nap in.
d) Went to Residential Counselor picnic at Lake Chabot. It was nice to get paid for four and a half hours of bullshittin' aound.
e) Starting to clean and organize the house. It'll be nice when it gets all done.
a) We found a family for our foster Jindo, Heppi (shown in white; pictured here with our Gilbey).
We've fostered him for two months now and it was difficult finding him a foster home. A lot of people were inquiring from out of the area and I couldn't really do an out-of-town adoption. First of all, I wouldn't be able to perform a home check, to make sure that the backyard was secure and the home was orderly. Secondly, it costs a bunch of money to transport a dog by plane. I think there are enough people willing to adopt Jindos here in the Bay Area. Never mind the number of Jindos in Southern California. There are apporximately 20-30 Jindos being put into SoCal shelters every week, and 80-90% of them are being killed. The situation is quite dire in Southern California. Owners need to take more responsibility for the living beings that they are harboring. Motherfuckers throw them into shelters, to take away their guilt, rationalizing their actions through every excuse in the book. It pisses me off royally.
Anyways, Heppi's new family will be a 6-person household, complete with four kids aged, 4,3,2, and 1. Yipes! Heppi will be a welcome edition to the family. I'm gonna miss the little fucker. Sure, he pissed all over my carpets, and pissed off my puppies once in a while, but sure is a beautiful young pup, and I love his personality. I'm just glad that I had a part in keeping him from being euthanized, as well as making a family happy by helping them find their forever dog.
b) Went camping with my group home kids. We went to a beautiful campsite in the Valley of the Moon. It was hardly work. As an overnight, all I had to do was stay awake from 10pm to 7am, which is a breeze for me anyway. All we did was chill in the cabin at night, read magazines, watch dvd's and walk around the campsite. All the overnights had these cheesy walkiee-talkies onand we were fucking around the whole night...."Roger, ten-four"..."breaker, breaker"...."over and out". To top it off, we had the rest of the day and evening to sleep, chill, and relax. So I brought my pup, Belle, with me and bullshitted all day. I only got 2 hours sleep each day, and hiked, jogged, napped, ate, and watched movies all day. It was like a vacation. My buddy brought his grill and fired up some thai marinated steak and herb-roasted chicken. We had a fridge full of mocha frappucinos from starbucks. The kids were great, and they had a lot of fun. I swear, I've never seen them so animated, and uninhibited. I'm just glad that I wasn't on for the regular day staff. All of them came home tired, bruised, bloody, and beaten. Alright, I'm exaggerating, but it's pretty close.
Here's a picture of where we went (this ain't the exact picture, but it was close; the campsite was nestled between Annadel state park and a couple of beautiful vineyards)-->
c) Got a new sectional couch from Macy's. I love this couch. It's microseude fiber, and it's as soft as a baby's butt. Jo and I love lounging on it. It has a chaise lounge that I love to nap in.
d) Went to Residential Counselor picnic at Lake Chabot. It was nice to get paid for four and a half hours of bullshittin' aound.
e) Starting to clean and organize the house. It'll be nice when it gets all done.
9.8.03
What's the point of having a journal if I'm not going to write in the damn thing. Well, here I go again. I'm slowly getting the hang of this. I just read my last post (which unfortunately was written a long time ago), and only just realized how many friggin typos I make, most of which are spelling errors and capitalizing the first two letters of a word. HEre I go again. I guess I try to type so fast that the finger that holds down the shift button just stays there a slight moment too long. I apologize for the typos. I hate reading text with typos. I think my feeble mind just spews forth so many random, incoherent ideas, that when I actually think of something that makes sense, I have to capture it on the keyboard as fast as I can before it goes away.
What’s the most exciting thing that’s happened in the past few weeks?
Some dude tried to jack Joanne's car. Joanne's my wifey. I work graveyard shift on the weekends, so I'm used to staying up late at night. One weeknight, I'm downstairs, mindlessly watching TV as I try to get sleepy enough to up to bed, and all of a sudden I hear a car outside arming a disarming; you know,the little beeps. I figure it's some drunk neighbor at 2 in the morning just getting home and fumbling in his pocket for his house keys. It arms/disarms again, but this time I notice that it's pretty loud; oh yeah, and it sounds just like my wife's car's alarm. I thought up of every rational explanation for it, and could not think of anymore, so I peeled myself off the couch, opened the front door, and lo and behold, some dickhead is sliding out the window of the car. Guess what I say to this jerk? "What's up boy?" It's funny how you play certain scenarios in head after they actually happen, and wish you could have said something different, something a little bit cooler. "Yo homeboy, come over here so I can give you an ass-beating." "Did you lose something, asshole?" "Your mother wears combat boots" That last one made no sense, but that dig always made me laugh. Why would someone's mother wear combat boots, and why is it insulting to do so? Anyways, all I could say was "What's up boy?" and this motherfucker walked away as if he was strolling in the park on a Sunday afternoon. I thought better of my situation, went back in the house, locked the door, called 911, described the perp to the dispatcher, and went outside to see where he went. He was long gone. After I hung up the phone, I stood there for a second and thought about how smugly he walked away. Then I got pissed, grabbed my aluminum bat and started walking the neighborhood. I thought to myself, "What if the guy had a knife, or worse yet, a gun?" I really didn't care at that point because I was so pissed off. I just wanted to play teeball with his head or better yet, his nuts. Then I realized that in the brief conversation that I had with the 911 dispatcher, I gave him a description of the perpetrator: late teens to early twenties, short brown curly hair, white male wearing a black hooded sweatshirt. Then my dumbass self realized that I was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, that I could pass of as a white dude in my teens/early twenties, and worse yet, was roaming the streets with a steel bat of fury. I felt like the Punisher, but I didn’t want to be accidentally be identified as the perp and get capped by a dumbass cop with an itchy trigger finger. Hell, some bacon capped a Vietnamese woman in San Jose just a week ago after HE busted into her home; and all she had in her hand was a fucking potato peeler (granted, the peeler looked like a fuckin’ machete from afar, but even I wouldn’t cap a woman who came at me with real machete. At the very least, I would try to wrestle the thing away from her). I knew the sheriff’s deputy would be in the neighborhood anytime now, so I came to my senses and waited for them at home.
After giving the sheriff’s deputy a pretty good description of the guy, I felt a little better. I also felt good after inspecting the car, because nothing was taken, and the alarm actually deterred a would-be criminal!! We also had a flipface Kenwood in there that he couldn’t touch, so I guess our little investments work out after all. If you were the guy who tried to jack our car, and you’re reading this, I’ve got one thing to say:
You're number one, asshole! (insert middle finger here)
What’s the most exciting thing that’s happened in the past few weeks?
Some dude tried to jack Joanne's car. Joanne's my wifey. I work graveyard shift on the weekends, so I'm used to staying up late at night. One weeknight, I'm downstairs, mindlessly watching TV as I try to get sleepy enough to up to bed, and all of a sudden I hear a car outside arming a disarming; you know,the little beeps. I figure it's some drunk neighbor at 2 in the morning just getting home and fumbling in his pocket for his house keys. It arms/disarms again, but this time I notice that it's pretty loud; oh yeah, and it sounds just like my wife's car's alarm. I thought up of every rational explanation for it, and could not think of anymore, so I peeled myself off the couch, opened the front door, and lo and behold, some dickhead is sliding out the window of the car. Guess what I say to this jerk? "What's up boy?" It's funny how you play certain scenarios in head after they actually happen, and wish you could have said something different, something a little bit cooler. "Yo homeboy, come over here so I can give you an ass-beating." "Did you lose something, asshole?" "Your mother wears combat boots" That last one made no sense, but that dig always made me laugh. Why would someone's mother wear combat boots, and why is it insulting to do so? Anyways, all I could say was "What's up boy?" and this motherfucker walked away as if he was strolling in the park on a Sunday afternoon. I thought better of my situation, went back in the house, locked the door, called 911, described the perp to the dispatcher, and went outside to see where he went. He was long gone. After I hung up the phone, I stood there for a second and thought about how smugly he walked away. Then I got pissed, grabbed my aluminum bat and started walking the neighborhood. I thought to myself, "What if the guy had a knife, or worse yet, a gun?" I really didn't care at that point because I was so pissed off. I just wanted to play teeball with his head or better yet, his nuts. Then I realized that in the brief conversation that I had with the 911 dispatcher, I gave him a description of the perpetrator: late teens to early twenties, short brown curly hair, white male wearing a black hooded sweatshirt. Then my dumbass self realized that I was wearing a black hooded sweatshirt, that I could pass of as a white dude in my teens/early twenties, and worse yet, was roaming the streets with a steel bat of fury. I felt like the Punisher, but I didn’t want to be accidentally be identified as the perp and get capped by a dumbass cop with an itchy trigger finger. Hell, some bacon capped a Vietnamese woman in San Jose just a week ago after HE busted into her home; and all she had in her hand was a fucking potato peeler (granted, the peeler looked like a fuckin’ machete from afar, but even I wouldn’t cap a woman who came at me with real machete. At the very least, I would try to wrestle the thing away from her). I knew the sheriff’s deputy would be in the neighborhood anytime now, so I came to my senses and waited for them at home.
After giving the sheriff’s deputy a pretty good description of the guy, I felt a little better. I also felt good after inspecting the car, because nothing was taken, and the alarm actually deterred a would-be criminal!! We also had a flipface Kenwood in there that he couldn’t touch, so I guess our little investments work out after all. If you were the guy who tried to jack our car, and you’re reading this, I’ve got one thing to say:
You're number one, asshole! (insert middle finger here)