Let’s talk tornado protocal:

We don’t suffer from many natural disasters here in Michigan, just the occasional tornado here and there in the spring, like last Tuesday.

It had been raining and storming all day (side note: I LOVE storms).  When I got home, letting the dog out, I heard a tornado siren go off in the distance, but it was so far away, I didn’t think anything of it and proceeded to start making dinner.

10 or so minutes later, my phone is chirping, warning me that there is a tornado watch in my area, so I immediately turn on the news, and sure enough, warnings all over the place!  The ticker tape across the bottom of the screen is telling me to seek shelter, get away from windows, get in a basement if I have one, and make sure I have supplies just in case.  The only “supplies” we keep stocked in our basement is booze and beer, so note to self to make an emergency kit for the basement. 

Anywho, the dog has since come back inside, dinner is progressing nicely with water boiling, oven pre-heating, when the sirens in my neighborhood go off. It was my understanding that sirens only go off once a tornado has touched down, so I immediately begin gathering my kids (dog and cat), to head to the basement.  Peyton always sleeps under the couch, so I run over to it, pick it up, and all but throw it to the side, and grab her out from under it.  With Peyton under one arm, I grab Max’s collar to head downstairs.

At the top of the stairs, Max comes to a dead stop, pushing both front paws against the door frame and refuses to go any further.  He is starting to whine, trying to back up, shaking his head.  He has never had a problem with the basement before! Why now?!  My idiot brain immediately thinks, “OMG it is haunted down there and he knows it!”, but I would rather take on a ghost than a tornado at this point.  And yes, I do watch too much discovery channel.

As I’m pleading with Max to just come with me and to trust me, Peyton starts to notice that her big brother is freaking out, so she starts to freak out.  Meowing and twisting and trying to get free. 

The dog is whining, the cat is freaking out, I am fighting with them both at once, the water is boiling over on the stove, the oven is beeping because it is fully heated, sirens are going off, so I let go of both kids and just yelled, “FINE! We can all die together while I make a delicious meal!”.

They both just sat there and looked at me as I overhead the weather man on television say, “If you are in Lansing and hear sirens going off, you can ignore those.  There is no immediate danger or threat of a tornado in your area.”

Well, fuck you very much…

Dinner was delicious at least.


Max and Peyton being so good during the last tornado scare we had....

Max and Peyton being so good during the last tornado scare we had….

Hello, Monday

I am just sitting here thinking that I am a ridiculously blessed person. 

I spend a lot of time focusing on the fact that I am not exactly where I want to be in life and I am not at all sure where my life is going.  Despite all that, though, where I AM at is a pretty great place.

I have AMAZING friends, a job I feel passionate about, the greatest pets ever, and I go to bed every night and wake up every morning next to my best friend, who I can’t tell enough how in love with him I am.

In the grand scheme of things, I have to keep in mind that things are not all that bad.

The rest will follow eventually.

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Some words of wisdom can be skipped

Yesterday, I had the unfortunate pleasure of going to the doctor’s office for a basic check-up and to get my allergy/asthma meds refilled.  I have year-round allergies, and am allergic to everything found in nature, animals and plants included, which really sucks for an outdoorsy, animal lover such as myself.  My asthma, while not exercising, is always set off by my allergies (just let me hang out at your house if you have a cat for while without my inhaler… I do an epic Darth Vader impression).

When the doctor asks me how everything is going and how my asthma is, I tell him the usual; I always use my inhaler before I workout and run, and generally right before I go to bed. This is always when the writing stops and he peers up at me over the rim of his glasses.  “If we look back at your test results,” he says, “you responded the strongest to Maple trees, mold, dogs, cats, and grass.  You have pets don’t you?”, I proudly respond with, “yes, a cat and a dog.”  I always stand firm on this, I have already broken up with 2 allergists for telling me to get rid of my cat…at the second one I replied with, “Sure, lady, kill your second born”…I don’t think so.  But my primary doctor knows to tread lightly on certain subjects; my weight and my pets in relation to my allergies/asthma.

He continues to educate me though. “Where most people with allergic reactions show a level of 60 or below, your levels are clear above 1500, so… you are pretty allergic”.  Levels of what, I am not sure, but I am smart enough to do the math in my head and realize quickly that 1500 is a heck of a lot higher than 60 (gotta love college).

“Do your pets sleep in your room or on your bed?”  I get a quick image in my head of me, sleeping diagonally across my bed, clutching what little covers I can out from under my 70 lb dog, who always wants to sleep right where my body needs to go.  Meanwhile, my cat not only sleeps with me, but across my neck, resting her chin in my eye-socket. 

“Sometimes,” I reply, not being proud enough of this explain to him my nightly ritual. 

“You might want to start shutting your bedroom door, even during the day, to keep them out of there.  It will really help.  What type of pillow do you use?”

Do I explain to him that, at 27, I sleep on a monkey pillow pet?  I am trying to formulate the argument in my head that it is SO soft and supportive, and he’s a monkey!  Thankfully he cuts off my train of thought of searching for an answer to give him, “Is it a down pillow?”…”No?”, said with no conviction….”It probably isn’t, down pillows are about $100.  You probably haven’t spent $100 on a pillow recently.”  Oh great… being poor is now a diagnosable, medical condition.  “I would recommend you get a hypo-allergetic pillow, that will help too.”

“Do they make a hypo-allergetic pillow pet?” I want to ask, but I don’t.  I know how to pick my battles.

20 minutes later, and loads of sound, adult, doctor recommended advice later, I headed home, where I dove head first into my pillow pet and proceeded to nap for an hour, cat on my head, dog at my feet.  Some sacrifices are just so worth it 🙂

Greetings! How may I help you?