Dog Crates

My grandmother used to have this crazy Doberman named Getta. She had a metal dog crate in the back yard. Somehow, I managed to get locked inside the crate twice during my childhood.

The first time I was locked in the crate, I was playing with the boy that lived behind my grandmother — a boy I happened to have a crush on. He bet me that I wouldn’t fit in that crate. Knowing darn well I could fit in the crate, I told him I could so fit in the crate. He was adamant — there was no way I could fit in the crate.

I fell into the trap so easily. ‘Watch me!’ I said triumphantly as I crawled into the crate. He shut the door, locked it from the outside, and left. Words cannot say how mad I was at him. He never even came back to make sure I got out of the crate.

The other time, my cousin, who is 9 months older than me, locked me in the crate. I don’t remember the specifics on that situation, but this weekend, I had these sudden flashbacks of being locked in a dog crate. I think that is the telltale sign that I was an extremely gullible child.

Arf! Arf!

Blog Dreaming

I may have gone too far with my interest in reading blogs… I’ve been reading the blog of Karen Correl for about a year and a half now. I met Karen vriefly through work when I lived in Detroit, and a coworker of hers told me about her blog. Although I haven’t seen her in probably almost two years, I like to watch her life and her creative pursuits evolve on her blog.

Well, this weekend, I had a dream that I met up with Karen again. It was a weird dream. We were off on vacation with a big group in the Carribean somewhere, and someone mentioned to her that I have a website and a blog. She acted like she had never heard of a blog before, and was asking me all kinds of questions about what blogs I read, what people post, etc. For some reason, I was pretending that I had never read her blog, since blogs often resemble a person’s private diary… Only posted for the world to see.

In my dream, I kept thinking that I couldn’t wait to go check out her blog to see what she wrote about our interaction, considering I knew that she was VERY familliar with the art of blogging.

It’s strange… After you read someone’s blog for a while, you really begin to feel like you know them. It’s like you could walk up to them on the street and just pick up a conversation like old friends…

If you look at the lower right hand corner of my blog, you’ll see links to the blogs I read daily. Most of them, I’ve been reading since I discovered blogging back in August of 2001.

Still Kickin’

I wrote an entry on Friday, I really did… When I pressed the ‘publish’ button, my browser timed out and the message was lost in the never never land of cyber space. So I’m not as much as a slacker as it may appear…

The big event last week (that I wrote a very long, thoughtful entry about and it is now GONE) was that I gave a presentation to the Board of Directors for my organization. This was a pretty big deal, as our BOD are very influential and high ranking in Reno business and politics, plus all of our top execs were there, including the CEO and VPs.

The presentation itself went really well. However, the night before wasn’t as smooth. I was so worried about the presentation that I woke up at 1 am rehearsing it in my head. At about 2 am, I thought of some statistics I wanted to add, and at 2:30 am, I sat on the couch with my notebook booted up as I made the final tweaks. Needless to say, by 12 pm, the presentation was over, and I had hit a brick wall.

There was a reporter from our local newspaper at the Board meeting, and he wants to interview me this week… Even wants my picture (ugh). Our Board meetings are broadcast on community cable, and one of my coworkers said that a friend of his who is a high school teacher saw me speak and wants me to come speak to his class. Wow, word travels fast, eh?!

On another note, it has been decided (mostly by [The Man Now Known as The Ex]) that we are moving. We’ll be moving into a two story, two bedroom, two and a half bath, two car garage home (perfect for two!). It’s only about 5 miles from where we currently live, but the mess of moving has begun. The boxes are out. God, I hate moving!!! Since leaving my parents’ house at the tender age of 17 (I turned 18 one week later), I have moved eight times. This will be my ninth. [The Man Now Known as The Ex] has moved twice. When he moved to Reno, he brought everything he owned in his Cavalier. When I moved to Reno, my stuff came in a semi-truck, and took 6 grown men 5 hours to unload everything into the condo. According to [The Man Now Known as The Ex], moving ‘isn’t a big deal’. According to me, he’s going to learn a lot over the next few weeks about Lynnette’s definition of moving.

Burned Plastic Ruined My Day

Last night when I ran the dishwasher, a cheap plastic bottle fell down on the heating element and burned up. [The Man Now Known as The Ex] discovered this (as I was fast asleep), and said that the entire dishwasher was filled up with smoke.

When I awoke this morning, the whole condo smelled of burned plastic, which is a horrible smell. I grabbed a water bottle out of the dishwasher, filled it with water, and headed for the pool. I took a few big swigs, and noticed that the water tasted like the horrid smell in the condo.

‘Water doesn’t have a taste’ I told myself, and purposefully held my breath while I took the next swig. That swig was OK. The third swig came while I was at a stoplight, and it was so gross that I actually gagged. Not sure what the people behind me at the stoplight thought when I rolled down my window and spit out the disgusting water. Blek! I couldn’t get the taste out of my mouth.

After I returned home, I started the dishwasher again, putting it in ‘Heavy’ mode. When it was finished, I grabbed another water bottle and a tupperware container for my lunch. Well, I just tried to eat my lunch. First, I took a swig out of that bottle, and gagged again. Then, I opened up my tupperware and realized that my cottage cheese smelled distinctly of burned plastic.

Did I just ruin every dish that was in the dishwasher last night?! I still have a horrible feeling in my stomach from that nasty taste that has greeted me multiple times today.

All Bad Guys Go To Reno

It sure seems that lately, all bad guys come to Reno. Check this out:

• They caught the murderer that had kidnapped a 14 year old Michigan girl earlier this month. He was in Susanville, which is just North of Reno, and there had been reports of him being in Reno-Sparks this past weekend.
• The Elizabeth Smart and her abductors passed through Reno a few times before she was found.
• The guy that abandoned his kid in a Salt Lake grocery store was found at his home in Reno.
• The mailbomber was caught just outside of Reno.

What gives?!

Drat

I went to the University of Phoenix on Friday evening to be assessed for becoming an instructor there. While I was there, I discovered that they have a Doctorate program.

I’ve always regretted not going on for my Doctorate, and always thought that I’d really enjoy being a college professor full time. A light bulb went off in my head…. University of Nevada at Reno offers a PhD, but they don’t hire their own PhD students. Hence, if I got a degree from the University of Phoenix, I assumed I could teach at UNR when I was done.

I called for more details on the program today. Their program takes 2 years and 8 months, much easier to swallow than the typical 5 years of most programs. I also learned that faculty at the University of Phoenix get a 1/3 discount off of the $56K program. That, combined with the salary of being an instructor, and an educational reimbursement from the Convention and Visitors Authority, would practically pay for the entire progam. Man, was I psyched.

Then I called UNR and talked to the Assistant Dean. He said that the University of Phoenix doesn’t have the proper accreditation, so they wouldn’t recognize a degree from them. Drat. I had this all worked out in my head. I was going to be Dr. Cook by the time I was 30.

So much for that idea. I’m not putting that kind of effort in unless I can actually use the education to teach in the future.

Update: I just got this e-mail from a representative at the University of Phoenix…

Lynnette, all of UoP is North Central Accreditation Association certified. This is the same group that certifies UNR. We get this continually from UNR, probably because we have cut deeply into their business enrollment numbers in the last couple of years 🙂

That doesn’t really help… I need UNR to recognize the degree BEFORE I put almost 3 years of effort into a degree!!!

Shut Up Already

This is for all of the celebrities out there. (OK, I know there aren’t any celebrities that read my blog, but if they did, this is what I’d say to them.)

You have a talent… You may sing, you may be a model, or you may act well. That is what made you famous. It is not your intellect or opinion that has made you unfathomably rich. Just because you have a captive audience does not mean you should be stating your opinions for all the world to hear. We want to see/hear you do what you’re good at (sing, model, act, etc.), not to hear your thoughts on war, because they will undoubtably be one-sided and unfounded.

So please, leave politics to the politicians, and war to the military, as they’ve left the arts to Hollywood! This specifically applies to Sheryl Crow, the Dixie Chicks and Martin Sheen. This article says it very well, discussing all of the celebrities that have called our leaders morons and comparing their education levels with those of our leaders.