dogs make people happy

I think this is something that most people know.  Dogs, especially puppies, make people happy.  Dogs that look like puppies that aren't really puppies make people REALLY happy.  How do i know this? 

Well, it's certainly not because of Zula.  When we take Zula out for a walk, most people cross to the other side of the street when they see her.  (Even if she isn't acting all dog-crazy...which sometimes, she is...)  At 80 pounds, she doesn't look much like a puppy either.

Now Smyke, that's a different story.  He manages to make a lot of people very happy for a little full-grown dog who looks like a puppy.  Not a believer yet?  Check this photo out... 

Yeah. Told you. 

So Smyke isn't our dog.  But, he did live with us for a short time.  A co-worker of mine found this little dog outside her doorstep, so she took him in.  With no tags and no one claiming this poor little, hurt, hungry, lost pup, we agreed to foster him.  Then we transferred him to another co-worker and her husband, who were looking for a perfect little dog.  Man, did they find him.  (I mean aside from the obsession with shoes and peeing-in-our-house habit...) 

This past weekend, we dog-sat Smyke.  I have never been so popular in all of my life.  I know that's hard to believe, folks, but reminder:  I was a band nerd. : )  Almost every person we walked past stopped to ask what kind of dog he was, what his name was, how old he was.... 

Basically, Smyke is the best thing since sliced bread. Or velcro.  

The interesting part, however, is that even when people didn't stop to ask about Smyke, they almost always looked at him and smiled.  He made people happy.  Even if just for a moment, it was totally worthwhile and awesome to watch. 

Maybe Smyke is oblivious to how affects people.  Maybe he's just happy if you give him something to eat or chew on.  Maybe he's more interested in the sandwich in your hand than your emotions. 

But then again, maybe that's not the point. 

Cheers!  : ) 

Goals and Dreams v.1

Recently, one of my co-workers went to Mexico.  Then I was left out of getting a gift from her.  Her excuse was that she bought some weird keychain for our other co-worker because it meant "indulgence."  Or something like that.  Anyhow, she referred to how she is working on her goals and dreams this summer.  I don't quite get the connection between the key chain and the goals/dreams, but I wanted one too.  Dang it. 

So I promptly followed up with an email version list of my own goals and dreams so that the next time she travels for work, she can bring me back a hokey "indulgent" key chain too.  Ah.  Yes. It's the little things, right? 

Anyway, here's what I sent her.  You should definitely read this list before moving on:

#1.  Get a raise. 

#2.  Move to Asia.        

#3.  Raise funds for Asia. 

#4.  Become a morning person. 

#5.  Lose 5 pounds.  Mm, maybe 10. 

#6.  Read more books.

#7.  Become a photographer.

#8.  Become a professional blogger. 

#9.  Make crafts every day. 

#10.  Adopt some babies. 

#11.  Be on the special “I bring gifts for you” list

#12.  Get a PhD.

#13.  Look older so people stop asking me, “Are you a student?”

#14.  Get a medical/law degree.  Either way is fine. 

#15.  Move to the countryside.  Then move back to the city.  

#16.  Become famous. 

And here was my response back from said co-worker.  This made me laugh out loud, so I figured it was worth a blog post. 

#1.  Get a raise.  Doubt It!

#2.  Move to Asia.  Maybe          

#3.  Raise funds for Asia. Doubt it!

#4.  Become a morning person.  If you haven’t done it by now, not gonna happen

#5.  Lose 5 pounds.  Mm, maybe 10.  Aren’t you like 10 pounds anyway??

#6.  Read more books. You don’t have time if you want to get a raise

#7.  Become a photographer. I thought you want a raise, yet another extracurricular activity that will suck time out of where it counts-sitting at your desk working

#8.  Become a professional blogger.  attainable

#9.  Make crafts every day.  That’s for the kids in Tom’s class dear

#10.  Adopt some babies.  OK Angelina

#11.  Be on Gechi’s special “I bring gifts for you” list Doubt it!

#12.  Get a PhD. These poverty promoting things keep coming up…you are definitely not getting a raiseJ

#13.  Look older so people stop asking me, “Are you a student?” just wear a wig and put eyeliner as your eyebrows

#14.  Get a medical/law degree.  Either way is fine.  Plus a PHD ?? geez

#15.  Move to the countryside.  Then move back to the city.   maybe

#16.  Become famous.  HAHAHA is all I can say

Perfect.  

Blog Post for Michael Iannuzzi

I didn’t know Michael C. Ianuzzi.  I never met him.  But I knew who he was to my husband, and I went to his funeral.  The funeral was several weeks ago, and afterwards, I asked Tom if I could write a blog post about him.  Tom said yes and then asked me about it a few times afterwards, but I couldn’t seem to get the words down on paper. 

See, I didn’t even know him.  But I found out all kinds of things about him at his funeral.  He was about 30 years old.  He attended family baptisms and birthday parties.  He was a really big guy.  He liked to wrestle.  He was funny.  He talked to his mom almost every day.  He cared about people.  He was a really good friend.  He was terribly messy and a creative cook.  He had an infectious smile.  He had HUNDREDS of friends.  He was doing what he loved to do.  He was loved. 

Mike and Tom were childhood friends.  Practically inseparable.  Tom fondly remembers the time that he and Mike were fighting in the car, so his mom told them to get outside and fight it out.  When Mike (remember, I said he was a really big guy…) jumped out of the car to get ready, Tom immediately retracted and apologized.  He was no idiot to fight Mike Ianuzzi.  And while I think about it, Tom’s mom was no idiot when she figured out how to solve the fighting issue in the back of the car. 

But, as we all know too well, life goes on and things change.  Tom wasn’t part of Mike’s every day anymore – but when he passed away suddenly, Tom was shocked.  And affected.  And sad.  He wondered if Mike’s family would be angry with him, if they would accept him.  He wondered if Mike was angry with him before he died.  He wondered if he should have reconnected with Mike or said the things left unsaid.  He wondered if he should have apologized to Mike.  He wondered if he had done the right thing.  Tom asked himself these questions – he asked me these questions.  Of course, we don’t know the answers. 

But I do know that this answered some of those questions:  when Tom walked into the funeral parlor, he put his arm on Mike’s brother’s shoulder.  Mike’s brother, James, turned around.  And when he saw Tom standing there, he had a burst of emotion that I’m not sure how to describe.  It was shock, disbelief, relief, happiness, sadness, all rolled into one – but not anger.  In that instance, Tom’s relationship to the family meant more than the last few years of silence.  Tom’s relationship with Mike meant more than later mistakes that were made.  Tom represented something to James – a piece of Mike’s life.  A piece of who Mike was.  I wish I could describe it better than this, but this is all I can say.  Mike’s family welcomed Tom with sorrowful hearts and open arms. 

James gave Tom a small piece of paper that he had found in Mike’s desk.  In that piece of paper was a picture of Joe, Tom’s brother.  On that piece of paper, he wrote about Joe and his death.  Mike had truly struggled to make sense of Joe’s death, as we are all now struggling to make sense of this one.  Regardless of what had happened between Tom and Mike later in life, they both still cared about each other.  That meant the world to Tom. 

If I’ve learned anything at all in life, it’s that there may not be any sense to be had.  We lost another good one.  And there seems to be no way to make sense of it.  No rhyme, reason, or secret code. 

I sat in the back of the funeral parlor and couldn’t hold back the tears as I listened to people talk about the person that he was. The person that I would never get to meet.  The person that we’d miss out on.  The person who was so very important to Tom when he was young.   I can’t say that I’ll miss Mike Iannuzzi – but I can say that I will miss the opportunity to know him. 

And I’m grateful that I got a chance to hear about the person that he was. 

I guess death always makes us think about life.  Life always seems to get so complicated.  We do things and say things we might end up regretting later.  We seem to be left with these haunting questions – did I do enough?  Did I say enough?  Did they really know how I felt?  So for today, I’m just going to think about these things a little longer and leave it at that. 

Oh.  And one more thing.  Thank you, Mike.  You are missed by those who never even met you. 

My Blog Post for Michael Iannuzzi

I didn’t know Michael C. Iannuzzi.  I never met him.  But I knew who he was to my husband, and I went to his funeral.  The funeral was several weeks ago, and afterwards, I asked Tom if I could write a blog post about him.  Tom said yes and then asked me about it a few times afterwards, but I couldn’t seem to get the words down on paper. 

See, I didn’t even know him.  But I found out all kinds of things about him at his funeral.  He was about 30 years old.  He attended family baptisms and birthday parties.  He was a really big guy.  He liked to wrestle.  He was funny.  He talked to his mom almost every day.  He cared about people.  He was a really good friend.  He was terribly messy and a creative cook.  He had an infectious smile.  He had HUNDREDS of friends.  He was doing what he loved to do.  He was loved. 

Mike and Tom were childhood friends.  Practically inseparable.  Tom fondly remembers the time that he and Mike were fighting in the car, so his mom told them to get outside and fight it out.  When Mike (remember, I said he was a really big guy…) jumped out of the car to get ready, Tom immediately retracted and apologized.  He was no idiot to fight Mike Ianuzzi.  And while I think about it, Tom’s mom was no idiot when she figured out how to solve the fighting issue in the back of the car. 

But, as we all know too well, life goes on and things change.  Tom wasn’t part of Mike’s every day anymore – but when he passed away suddenly, Tom was shocked.  And affected.  And sad.  He wondered if Mike’s family would be angry with him, if they would accept him.  He wondered if Mike was angry with him before he died.  He wondered if he should have reconnected with Mike or said the things left unsaid.  He wondered if he should have apologized to Mike.  He wondered if he had done the right thing.  Tom asked himself these questions – he asked me these questions.  Of course, we don’t know the answers. 

But I do know that this answered some of those questions:  when Tom walked into the funeral parlor, he put his arm on Mike’s brother’s shoulder.  Mike’s brother, James, turned around.  And when he saw Tom standing there, he had a burst of emotion that I’m not sure how to describe.  It was shock, disbelief, relief, happiness, sadness, all rolled into one – but not anger.  In that instance, Tom’s relationship to the family meant more than the last few years of silence.  Tom’s relationship with Mike meant more than later mistakes that were made.  Tom represented something to James – a piece of Mike’s life.  A piece of who Mike was.  I wish I could describe it better than this, but this is all I can say.  Mike’s family welcomed Tom with sorrowful hearts and open arms. 

James gave Tom a small piece of paper that he had found in Mike’s desk.  In that piece of paper was a picture of Joe, Tom’s brother.  On that piece of paper, he wrote about Joe and his death.  Mike had truly struggled to make sense of Joe’s death, as we are all now struggling to make sense of this one.  Regardless of what had happened between Tom and Mike later in life, they both still cared about each other.  That meant the world to Tom. 

If I’ve learned anything at all in life (which is questionable), it’s that there may not be any sense to be had.  We lost another good one.  And there seems to be no way to make sense of it.  No rhyme, reason, or secret code. 

I sat in the back of the funeral parlor and couldn’t hold back the tears as I listened to people talk about the person that he was. The person that I would never get to meet.  The person who was so very important to Tom when he was young.   I can’t say that I’ll miss Mike Ianuzzi – but I can say that I will miss the opportunity to know him. 

And I’m grateful that I got a chance to hear about the person that he was. 

I guess death always makes us think about life.  Life always seems to get so complicated.  We do things and say things we might end up regretting later.  We seem to be left with these haunting questions – did I do enough?  Did I say enough?  Did they really know how I felt?  So for today, I’m just going to think about these things a little longer and leave it at that. 

Oh.  One more thing:  Thank you, Mike.  You are missed by people who never even knew you.