Sunday, October 17, 2010
I mentioned in a previous post that I am participating in a volunteer training course for service dogs. The organization is called ICAN, http://www.icandog.org/help/volunteer.htm. We are now down to the final two classes for the training. This Monday night we will meet at the mall downtown to practice training the dogs out in public. I am nervous and excited about it. Each time we work with these dogs I feel like I am managing a superstar or something. These dogs have been through a few years of training and could probably recite Shakespeare while juggling apples, at least that is what it feels like when you are with them. Last week I missed one of the required trainings since Kai decided to swallow a quarter right before my class. I took him to the emergency room instead. That is a story for another post). Luckily, the head trainer for ICAN was willing to call me on his lunch break to go over the material, so I can still finish the certification.
What stuns me the most about this training is how awed I feel about these dogs. They seem to posses super canine powers or something. I know that I am working with a dog that will literally change a person’s life. I feel so incredibly privileged to be able to work with them. We were told that as soon as we finished our certification we would most likely get a call to see if we could furlough a dog. A furrlough lasts for 2-3 weeks. During that time, you continue their training out in the community.
My fingers are crossed that I’ll get a call at the end of October. I want to be sure I can practice all I’ve learned and not forget it. You can be sure I’ll post a picture of the first dog that stays with us. It has been such a fun adventure.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
This is a term I coined a few months ago. Cupcake girls are women who really need to put down their vegan organic carrot salad and indulge in a little processed fat now and then. There is a woman at my workout club who is extremely thin. She does much of the same training as I do, so I often see her zipping along on the treadmill or slicing through the water in the pool. I must note here, that we do the same type of training, but she does hers fast and I do mine at my “slow and steady wins the race” pace. I’m not sure of her age but she seems to be in her mid forties. One day she hopped into the lane next to me at the pool. I wore my cozy Speedo suit, which I love. Those suits stay put and suck everything in. While other women may diet in order to sport a two piece, I happily stuff myself into a modest Speedo and thank God for the suction of latex. Here’s my thought on bikinis. Quite simply put, they leave me feeling naked. You could not pay me to walk around in my bra and underwear in public, so why would I do so in a waterproof set of undies? No thanks. I appreciate that a Speedos exist as a lovely alternative to the torture of a bikini. If I get your attention, I’d like it to be because I am saying something smart or witty, funny even, not because I do or do not have a muffin top.
Jumping into the pool she squealed, “Oooooh, it is soooo cold today!” The temperature felt pretty comfortable to me. I looked over at her. Her body was a well baked brown, like the top of a fresh loaf of bread ready to come out of the over. Although I don’t guess she indulged in the forbidden carbohydrate group too often. Wearing a tiny two piece Speedo bathing suit, her stomach curved inward as if searching for food from within. She reminded me of Gumby, with his large head and big feet. This tall, painfully thin woman looked as if she had been stretched out, pulled apart to the point of almost breaking in two.
I couldn’t help but take notice of her comment. Cold? Well of course she was cold! The poor thing was heating her entire body with the fat content of a sugar free popsicle!
Losing my filter for a brief moment, I opened my mouth and the following comment rolled off my tongue like a slick weighted marble, “Ahhhh, stop complaining and eat a cupcake,” I said good naturedly patting her on the shoulder. She laughed, but strangely enough, I haven’t seen her since. Hopefully I didn’t offend her, but most likely I did. What I meant to say is really hard to say to strangers, but if I knew her better, this is what I wanted to say to her, “You do not have to be 5’10 and weight 100 pounds to be a beautiful, amazing and intelligent woman. In fact, if you are 5’10 and weigh 100 pounds, life might suck a little bit. You might miss out on some really awesome things, like cupcakes with maple syrup frosting and bacon bits on top. Or if that isn’t your thing, a really good batch of french fries, or homemade lasagna, at the very least, when you go swimming you wouldn’t be so frickin’ cold. It is okay if your body reflects a sense of more and not less.”
Which is precisely why I wear a one piece Speedo; I need just a little more for this body of mine than a little bikini can provide. You know what, I see that as a good thing. I just cannot keep my strong, curvy, well insulated body contained in a waterproof set of underwear! Hallelujah and thank God for that!