pampered pup.

Most dogs eat stuff around the house. Shoes. Newspaper. Furniture. Garbage. Poop. Etc. Its part of the beauty of owning a dog. But not our dog. She's perfect. (Save for the social anxiety disorder, strangeness to strangers, and fear of the words "boop" and "buzz".)

Well... she does have this teensy weensy little habit. She eats soap. Yep, soap. She prefers the Dove variety and can easily take down a full bar in a matter of minutes. Gulp... and 24 hours later, she is INSANELY ill. Its sort of like a massive hangover I guess. (Although, I think even if she ingested soap in moderation, she'd still get ill... though maybe not as violently.)

How does she get the soap, you ask? Well, we certainly don't knowingly feed it to her. Imagine?! HAH! It all started when we moved to our first house with a tub/shower/curtain. Like normal people, we'd leave the soap on a soap dish on the inside side of the tub. When we weren't looking/paying attention/home, she'd climb in the tub, gnab the soap and have herself a little party!

Neither Kev nor I would realize she'd eaten it... because missing soap is not really something you pay too much attention to when you are married. But, internally, we'd blame each other for the missing soap... me thinking he is incredibly dirty and demands a lot of suds... him thinking I took it out of the shower to wash my face at the sink. We keep a large quantity of soap in the house so it was never a big deal... we'd just replace the bar and move on. (Though, deep down, I get annoyed thinking that he was going through soap entirely too fast... soap is expensive, dammit.)

Then... Nala starts with the incessant puking. It never clicks right away that she has eaten the soap because the vomiting starts well after we've first noticed the missing soap (and have already placed blame on one another). There is a chain of events that always starts with "WHY is she so ill"... followed by assessing each of her vomit piles (awesome time, let me tell you) for any foreign objects... and ends with one of us in the shower remembering the missing soap asking the other... "Did you take the soap out of the shower?"... "NO... why?"... "Because I JUST put a new bar in here."... "OHH... NALLLAA!!?"

We've moved to a new house that has a door to the shower and the soap dish is elevated - twice the protection, right? WELL, occasionally, KEVIN (that's right, I am blaming you) leaves the soap on a lower ledge in the shower... and apparently, Nala must be paying close attention... as she has been puking for the past 24 hours... and it JUST occurred to me that there was a BRAND NEW bar of soap in the shower yesterday... that is NOT there today! I first thought that maybe Kevin took it out of the shower to wash his face... so I checked the sink to no avail. I had deduced that Kevin took it to Maine with us... until Nala started puking. So I asked him about the soap MIA... he did not take it and he had thought that I used it all up. Nala's habit is destroying our marriage. HAH!

Poor thing. She just loves soap. Its weird, yes BUT, I am quite positive that I prefer her being addicted to soap rather than her being addicted to crap. Its much easier to manage and control this addiction (we CAN hide the soap... keeping her away from poop?... well thats not as easy) and hell, I'd rather her have soap for breath than shit for breath.

I apologize. Posts about my pup are always so long winded!

man oh maine!

On somewhat of a whim, we went up to Portland, Maine this weekend for an overnight getaway. We went without much planned or expected... it was one of those, "we just need a change of scenery" trips. It happens when you live in New England and its dreary February... you need to see a different dreary horizon.

I really didn't know what I was looking for but I just had to get out of the house... and relax. Sounds funny, right? Like, we could've just as easily hunkered down at home, made plans to do nothing, disconnected from the world, turned off our phones, etc? Well, easier said than done for this chica. Regardless of how intent I am to relax at home, I am always struck with this pull... like gravity... to do chores, answer the phone, aimlessly surf the net, work, go to the grocery store, etc. Not to mention, when you work from home and spend 80% of your time couped up in the house, rarely stepping outside, you go stir crazy and need (trust me, it is necessary) to escape the place that serves as your workplace, your resting place, your home, and your safe haven all in one. So, we went searching for a place to hole up and intentionally do not much of anything. And... it was well worth it.

First of all, Portland is quite surprisingly, a hip little town. From the breweries to the chic little shops, it was very much more than I had imagined. The hotel we stayed at, despite not being our cup of tea (it was very colonial, old school - we're more into the chic modern establishments), was in the center of town so it was nice and convenient to bop around from our hotel... walking in crisp, clean (and cold) Maine sunshine.

We did a lot of eating in 24 hours... we both really enjoy checking out new restaurants (and food in general) and in 24 hours, we went to 3 restaurants, a candy store, and a general store... for edible consumptions. Seems excessive but whatever, we were on mini-holiday.

We actually had all intentions of going to a fancypants dinner but, with neither of us drinking (Kevin has joined the sober team... though not intentionally), we really didn't feel like getting all dolled up to go to a place that surely had some amazing wines to tease us. And, more of a reason, we had a late, heavy lunch in town and could not justify spending lots of money on a meal we probably wouldn't eat much of or enjoy.

I am happy we made this decision... we ended up going to this place called Flatbread Co... and seriously, I am SO jealous of Portlanders... for having a place like this. It is a great place with such a nice vibe. We got a seat right in front of the brick oven, where the chefs (local hippies) are paying constant attention to the main menu fare - flatbread pizzas, of course. Boasting "organic" this and "fresh" that (not very surprising when you're in north New England but refreshing for sure), the menu consisted of a variety of flatbreads, a few salad options, a slew of beverages (alcohol and non), and a few desserts. Thats it. And it was PACKED. Simplicity at its finest. Even the bar scene was quite hip. (My root beer even came in a bottle, like a "real" beer... I sort of fit in with the drinkers... er not.)

That experience was absolutely the highlight of our trip. We were there for a while just chatting, enjoying the ambiance... forgetting that we were not enjoying the wine which we claim to miss so dearly.

Walking out of the restaurant, belly warm and full of deliciousness, huge smile on my face... it hit me. I was completely, 100% relaxed... I hadn't even considered a chore or burden practically (I DID get preoccupied with organizing my clothes...baby steps) all day long.

Mission accomplished.

thirsty... for life

As I continue on my no-drinking binge, I frequently find myself deep in thought about the art of drinking... and how I have adopted this art in my own life. Though I am completely content with my sobriety now, I absolutely 100% enjoy drinking.

And, distance definitely makes the heart grow fonder. How I love thee wine. How I love thee beer. And, oh... oh how I love thee my dearest vodka. Straight up, on the rocks, with soda, with a twist, with a shake... ahh.

Being away from alcohol and continuing to live a normal life (it IS possible), I've begun to realize... I don't think I have ever drank an alcoholic beverage out of thirst. (Ok, maybe I have had a frozen cocktail on a hot summer day that has been somewhat quenching but generally I don't think my desire to drink has been influenced by feeling parched.) More so, I think drinking alcohol is inspired by the need to have something in my hand so I have only one hand to worry about... and of course, the desire to catch a buzz.

Who doesn't like a good buzz? (I know, I know, there are SOME people.) My problem is... it rarey stops at a buzz.

This thirst thought resonates when I go to drinking atmospheres (the bar, a friend's house, etc) as Sober Sarah and realize... I am not thirsty and I actually don't want anything to drink. Not a soda, not a juice, not a water. You should see the looks I've gotten? "You don't want anything?" ... "no, really, I am cool. I am not thirsty". Scoff.

But, if I were drinking alcohol, whether or not I was thirsty would not matter - I'd get a drink, and then another, and then another... and so on. Thirst is never a consideration. It is about quenching something much deeper than the need to hydrate (actually, I think that's dehydrate!).

Without drinking, I've discovered that... I actually don't mind having my hands free... it allows me to be more exuberant in my story telling. And, the confidence that I've been lacking... feeling like it was empowered by alcohol... has mysteriously appeared, no thanks to booze. I've also found that through sobriety, healthy eating, exercise, and reading, I am feeling extremely profound. I don't think I have ever felt more intelligent in my life. (You should see my Jeopardy skills these days!)

Part of me likes to attribute this profound clarity to the change in my lifestyle and part of me thinks its simply pride. I am actually quite proud of myself right now. In nearly all aspects of my life, I am feeling fulfilled and I think it is largely due to these positive lifestyle changes.

With that being said... I must reiterate that much of me misses having a glass (or 2) of wine, a beer, or a stiff vodka here and there... I don't miss it as much as I thought I would and I don't plan to give it up entirely. I look forward to having a cocktail (or 2) in the future but this experiment is definitely opening my eyes...