Sunday, August 16, 2015

Pigs Are People, Too (PART TWO)

I know you are all just waiting for this- the moment I decided I couldn't live without a guinea pig post house sitting. Fine, you all know me SO well, give yourselves a pat on the back and let's get back to what's important, MY STORY!

Yesterday, I decided to peruse the options of pigs available for adoption at the Humane Society of Boulder Valley. All I wanted was to find a guinea pig exactly like Cookie in every single way. That's not too high of an expectation, is it?? Didn't think so. On the site, one of the first guinea pigs listed, Panchito, was Cookie's identical twin. I called the location where he was listed to be, and sadly learned that he was just adopted. Of course he was. The lady told me in this horribly heartless tone, too. Jerk.

No Panchito?!?!

However, a little lower down the list was a little guy who looked a lot like Cookie too, but with a lot more white fur. I looked to his name and knew it was meant to be. Fili. Like, one of the dwarves from The Hobbit. If that isn't a sign, I don't know what is. The only thing that would make our match more destined to be would be if there were a caption under his picture saying "MARISA COME ADOPT ME NOW." Actually, if that were the case I would probably be a bit creeped out.

So I decided. If Fili was available, it was destiny. I called and waited with bated breath as she checked to see if he was still there. YES, she told me cheerfully, and I instantly asked her to put it on hold. I begged her as if there were a line of people out the door and commingling around Fili to take him home right then and there. 

Heart racing, I drove over to the humane society. The woman at the counter told me to take a seat and wait for someone to find a room where Fili and I could meet. I felt insanely nervous as if I were about to adopt a child or go on a blind date, which are both creepy scenarios to compare to meeting a guinea pig. After about fifteen minutes, an employee led me into a room and put Fili on my lap. He just sat there, just like Cookie. So far, so good. I pet him for about a half hour and he began to make soft squeaks. Perfect. He didn't even poop or pee on me, which instantly scored him some points. Then I put him on the ground. He lazily bumbled about, just like Cookie. Done, done, and done.

Our first meeting.

I signed a bunch of papers that I didn't really read and Fili and I headed home. Unfortunately, there are now three guinea pigs that all hate each other in the house. Turns out, males don't get along. Should have figured that one. Whatever, Fili is awesome, Bob goes home today, Cookie is super chill, and things are good in my little wild kingdom.




Pigs Are People, Too

Okay, that's not even remotely true. Pigs are pigs, and people are people, and this blog isn't even about pigs, it's about guinea pigs. Yes, guinea pigs: America's favorite pet rodent and Peru's favorite main course (actually, judging by their size I would probably only consider them to be appetizers). Guinea pigs have taken up a surprisingly large role in my summer this year, and I wanted to bestow upon all of my readers the privilege of hearing ALL about it. Can't wait? That's what I thought.

So, flashback to the beginning of the summer. I am three months younger, and about to launch into a summer-long house sitting gig. The family that lives here is spending the summer in a home on the East Coast.

When first offered the gig, I hesitated as they have two rather high-maintenance dogs (one elderly and medicated, partially blind and deaf, and hardly mobile and the other a young, spritely and large dog not yet aware of his own strength). However, they informed me that the dogs would be venturing east with them, causing me to do a little jig of victory internally.


Then I remembered... the dogs weren't their only pets. Cookie the Guinea Pig also lived in the house I would be watching. I anxiously asked if Cookie would be going with them, too- I had no desire whatsoever to take care of any creature beneath that roof besides myself. My heart sunk a bit when I found out that Cookie would be my responsibility, too. I fully anticipated a very half-ass effort on my part just to keep the thing alive, but quickly I realized my affinity toward the creature.



Cookie has a personality just as well defined as any other living being I have come across. He is laid-back, cares about eating way more than he should (often to the point of prioritizing it above his own safety), is relatively quiet but still makes those charming little squeaks from time to time, and will happily sit on my lap while watching TV and just relish in being stroked. Cookie and I became fast friends, and so attached that I began to worry about our eventual and inevitable separation. Actually, anyone who knows me was worried about it too- I was attached like a conjoined twin to this furry little critter.


I began to wonder if all guinea pigs are this rad as pets. One weekend, the neighbors asked me to watch their guinea pig, who shall not be named (we will call him Bob just to make this easier to understand. He doesn't deserve more than a generic name like that [no offense to my readers named Bob. It's a pretty good name for a person]) while they went out of town. I agreed. Bob came over and quickly demonstrated that no, not all guinea pigs are rad as pets. Some are just horrible.

First of all, he was a jerk to Cookie and that is just not cool. No one messes with my baby! Yikes, can you imagine what I would be like as a mother? I put them next to each other for a quick photo op and Bob quickly attacked. Screw you Bob. That instantly put him on my most-hated list. That's not a list that anyone wants to be on.



Also, he squeaks to this volume that seems absolutely unbelievable coming from his tiny body. In no way are these cute, quiet squeaks like Cookie's- no, these are more like blood-curdling shrieks. I also decided that Bob was trying to sabotage me. As I recorded a guitar song and was finally happy with my take, he squealed in the last five second and ruined it, as if he were just waiting for the end to do so. Whatever, I posted it anyway so joke is on him. Or maybe he won that round, whatever. Click here for the song, and wait for the squeak at the end.

Okay, I just realized how ridiculously long this post would be if I made it just one, so I'm going to split this bad boy and make it a two-parter.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Willie Nelsons

No, that is not a misprint in the title. I do not DO misprints, sheesh. And I am so humble and modest about my lack of misprints, too. Ahem... back to the point of this whole blog. Willie NelsonS. Plural.

Last Friday, I went with the band Intuit to Crestone to attend a festival called Crest Fest. Clever, right? I mean, it is totally a catchy name. After a charming four-hour car ride there, we went to the artist check-in counter and the lady putting on our bracelets was a bit overwhelmed and kind of overlooked the fact that I was not in the band. So, I walked in there wearing a musician bracelet.



I'm sure a lot of you are at a complete and total loss as to why that would be exciting. BECAUSE, of course, the bracelet was the golden (okay, orange) ticket into the land of backstage, the mysterious world where musicians get to chill before and after their sets. The backstage area was magical in multiple ways. First, there were free massages. Second, there was an enormous table with an impressive spread of grub. From pluots to peaches, sandwiches filled with any lunch meat you can imagine (unless you have some super bizarre imagination. Tone it down guys, there were no giraffe sandwiches), brownies, cookies, coffee, iced tea, the works. The only thing that the backstage area lacked was a sexy man to hand feed me grapes while two others fanned me.

I know you are all in anxiety inducing suspense about the Willie Nelsons. So, this was a rather small festival, in the middle of Hippieville Colorado, nestled in a field surrounded by mountains. So, naturally, it drew in a certain crowd. The crowd consisted of a shocking amount of men who looked exactly like Mr. Nelson, especially when you consider the low-ish amount of attendees (not because it was a lame-o festival but because it was just tiny). At first I thought I was just seeing the same guy over and over but then I started noticing that they were wearing different outfits.

Not as unique as you thought, Mr. N!

The amount of Willie look-a-likes truly threw me for a loop. I mean, I always considered him a rather unique looking character. However, by the end of the night I counted at LEAST seven of them, and who knows, there very well may have been more.


Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Pondering Yoga Poses

Chaturanga dandasana. Exhale! Downward-facing dog!

All you yogis out there most likely feel sweet relief from downward-facing dog (or down dog for short), a "restful, home-base posture" allowing you to refocus on your practice and reset your breath. Some of you probably do down dogs at home for a good stretch and for some relaxation. Some of you may quickly deem it your favorite yoga posture.

For me, downward-facing dog is agony. I freaking hate that posture. Honestly, the primary reason I practice hot yoga or Bikram yoga most frequently is that it doesn't have that horrendous posture. Aside from the fact that it sends shooting pains through my shoulders (okay, okay, a bit dramatic there...it just doesn't feel pleasant), I apparently just can't get it right. During a good 25% of the classes I take I am corrected by some way or another by an instructor. Sometimes they pull my hips up and back. Sometimes they push on my heels to get them to touch the mat.

Yes, I passionately hate down dog. None of you will believe this, but I also hate child's pose, another allegedly "restful" posture. I admit I am strange when it comes to my likes and dislikes of yoga postures. Let's continue, shall we? Maybe in list form from now on.

Yoga Postures Listed from My Least Favorite to Favorite
(Disclaimer: this list doesn't contain every yoga pose in existence. Not even close)

1) Downward-facing dog (just thinking about it makes me wince)
Doesn't this look RELAXING?? No.





















2) Half-moon (Ardha candrasana)

Worst thing ever. But makes good abs.














3) High to low plank (Chaturanga dandasana)

 
Because we all LOVE planks!

















4) Standing Head to Knee (Dandayamana-Janushirasana)
Basically I just can't figure this one out. My balance is just that bad.

Yep, I can only get to step one.













5) Standing Separate Leg Head to Knee Pose (Dandayamana-Bibhaktapada-Janushirasana)
Can't...breathe...so...awful....

























6) Standing Bow Pose (Dandayamana-Dhanurasana)
I have a love/hate relationship with standing bow pulling pose. Some days I rock it and others....not so much.





7) Plow (Halasana)
This seriously feels amazing.

















8) Tree Pose (Tadasana)
 





















9) Camel Pose (Ustrasana)This is literally my "hangout pose." It's relaxing and fun and feels awesome.






















10) Fixed Firm Pose (Supta-Vajrasana)



















Okay I'm tired of looking up these pictures, but also, I HATE locust pose with a firey passion. I only do it because a teacher once told me that the postures you hate the most are the ones you need the most. Alright, fine.

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