Tag Archives: Seattle


22 Jun

I’m dubious about how much recycling actually helps the environment. I suspect the process is more about getting people to THINK about the environment, help individuals realize what impact one person can have if they only try to do a little something (or when they don’t), and the alleviation of guilt through an attempt to take responsibility.

I don’t have any statistics about recycling (yet) so I can’t really SAY how much impact it may or may not have in the long run. I can tell you I purchased “The Skeptical Environmentalist” by the controversial Bejorn (or however it’s spelled) Lomborg and am most excited to read it. I’ll have to make that a priority before school commences in the fall.

What I DO know about recycling is that it’s a pain. Sorting it takes a lot of space in my small apartment and in the complex’s tiny trash area. Paying to take it to get recycled as you have to in Northern NV would also be a no-go.  Just ask all the people that don’t even pay to take their TRASH to the dump, instead dumping it in the desert.  When you look at problems like that (and pollution from cars and industry, water getting dirtied, chemical-resistant farming, and 3rd world country completely unethical and unregulated agriculture/industry–well, washing your recyclables seems like a minute, nit-picky first-world crises. Especially, when I’m fairly certain it’s all autoclaved and melted down anyway.

In Seattle, throwing things in the trash is criminal.  Some do-gooder will yell at you if you even think about trying it.  It was actually Seattle’s severe, libertine mentality about recycling that turned me against the practice. For one of my chores throughout my childhood was crunching cans. And though I didn’t really drink soda myself, my parents gave me plenty of cans to keep busy. Also, one of my platforms (OK– my main and only platform) when I ran for student body president of my intermediate school was starting a recycling program–which I successfully implemented and they still use today thank-you-very-much. But the levels–and morals–attached to recycling is ridiculous to me.

I have heard many, many times:

1}  Did you throuw THAT away?! With implication that I’m a shit head because that is recyclable.

2}  I have also heard–“That goes in the other bin.”  Who the eff can tell what bin or what plastic code goes where?  I mean, really, if you want the world to recycle–make it easy.  Or at least make it make SENSE. Make it too difficult and I’m just going to throw it in the trash–no question then.

3} Thirdly, I have heard grumbles about–At LEAST rinse that out!”  As mentioned above, eff you, on that.  It’s not happening.

4}  “You need to SORT your recyclables!”  No cardboard in the cans.  No lids on the glass.  No tape on the brokendown boxes.  Puh-leeze.  Again–make it too hard, and I’m just going to throw the whole damn (dirty) thing, intact, and in the garbage can.

Hate me if you will.  But I know I’m not the only one who feels this way.

Why Are Rabies Vaccines Necessary?

18 Jan

My cat never goes outside. . .

This is a very common question from pet owners.  And aside from saying it’s a federally regulated vaccine, and it helps protect people from rabies, I never have much to say.

And the big vaccine controversy doesn’t help.  (Uneducated) people automatically hate vaccines and implicate them for causing autism, cancer, and other horrible and (untrue and/or uncommon) reactions.

I guess we should be thankful.  Thankful that vaccines have worked so well, that nobody in the last 2-3 generations has been sick with measles, mumps, rubella, polio, or even chicken pox.  Because we have not experienced the ill-effects of these diseases which we have been routinly vaccinated for, we take the vaccine itself for granted.  But that leaves us at risk again to get the diseases themselves.

When these nay-sayers won’t even innoculate their children, I feel there’s little I can tell them to make them vaccinate their pet.  Mostly I just offer expensive titers ($250 after mark up from IDEXX) as a compromise.  And you’d be surprised how many people (especially from Seattle) are willing to pay it.

I suggest watching the Frontline documentary “Vaccine Wars” to get a true idea of the whole vaccine debacle.  It delves into the situation much better than I could in one blog post.  Here’s some stats on the rabies disease:

Animals identified with rabies in 2010: 2,246 raccoons (36.5%), 1,448 skunks (23.5%), 1,430 bats (23.2%), 429 foxes (6.9%), 303 cats (4.9%), 71 cattle (1.1 %), and 69 dogs (1.1 %). Compared with 2009, number of reported rabid animals decreased across all animal types with the exception of a 1 % increase in the number of reported rabid cats.  Per JAVMA Sept 2011

After that–well, it’s just the lawful thing to do.  And not that expensive.

The Food IS The City!

20 Nov

This lack of sleep business we have been contending with. . .  AGAIN, reminds me so much of my year in Seattle.  I never slept well in that city.  I’ll never understand why my age group/housemates/neighbors do not sleep during the night.  I’m going to have to pull a Niles Crain and get some sort of white noise, ambiance machine to drown out their inconsiderate sounds.

So here’s something a little brighter that reminds me of Seattle.  If ever there was a restaurant that could represent an entire city–the mentality of the residents, ethics, economy, everything, it would be the location of my 27th birthday dinner.  Elemental absolutely mirrors every aspect of Seattle.

The communication is not very straightforward.  We didn’t even know where we were at first.  We had to ask the UPS man to verify the restaurant’s location during the day.

The ambiance is very plain at Elemental–you might think you’re getting the bare minimum, simple experience.  But like the city itself, with down-home roots, it is far from simple.  Everything is secretly decadent and extravagant.

The waiter is pompous and rude.  It’s an exact replica of the Seattle chill.  The people there are supposed to be friendly–and superficially they are.  At a distance.  You think.  And you think a restaurant strives to satisfy customers. . .

The food is organic, local, and environmentally acceptable.  Just like Seattle’s rabid environmentalism, one-track organic notions.

The final price tag was horrendously expensive–just like most things in the city of Seattle.  It must be an excellent location for the rich to live.  Even Frasier has to settle for a condo with roommates.  How could a normal person stand a chance?


When I’m bored I like to read Elemental’s Yelp reviews. Everyone has a strong, polarized opinion about it.  I personally liked it–one time.  Eating there made me feel like Fraiser, and a real Seattle resident for the first time.  I was finally partaking in the good life in Seattle instead of slumming it at the Frat house and working with entitled people. . .  I’ll always remember that fancy birthday dinner!

Women’s Sports Are Still Last. What Year Is It???

17 Oct

My e-mail to the Seattle Storm Website and SeattleTeams.com:

Category: Suggestion

Message: I am pretty concerned and frustrated that you do not carry Seattle Storm

merch.  The Storm is JUST as much a Seattle sports team as

anyone else, and I know a lot of people who would love to support them.  Selling

antiquated Supersonics logos when Seattle no longer even has

an NBA team, but not Storm gear is a slap in the face to our WNBA Western Conference Champions!

And the response I promptly received the next day:

Re: SeattleTeams.com Contact Form – Suggestion


We certainly understand your frustration with the lack of Storm merchandise in our product line.  We do, in fact, have WNBA Champions tees and hats on order in the event of a win.  We looked into Western Conference Champions gear, but with the short window between the Conference Finals and WNBA Finals, the product would not have been able to get here soon enough.

With regard to Storm product in general, we investigate it at certain intervals with the manufacturer (Reebok) but they generally do not stock WNBA merchandise in their warehouse meaning that pretty much any order would be a custom run and subject to prohibitively exorbitant minimum order quantities that need to be met in order for the item to be produced.  Hopefully another title under our belts *fingers crossed*, will trigger a shift on the vendor side of things that will render us more capable of adding a line of Storm product.  We also would love to carry but also have run into problems ordering for teams like the Thunderbirds, Silvertips, the USL incarnation of the Sounders, etc.

Again, we appreciate your concern and will continue to work toward a situation that allows us to carry Storm product.  If you would like, I can send you an email to alert you as soon as the Storm WNBA Championship gear is available on the website!

Nathan Seaman Senior Manager Design, Marketing & Technology JAS Sports Inc SeattleTeams.com | TheDawgDen.com | SoundersGear.com | ProTeamShop.com | WazzuGear.com Phone | 206.547.6007 Email | jasinternet@gmail.com Snail Mail | 5315 4th Avenue South | Seattle, WA 98108

My letter to Reebok:

I thought the problem was with the stores, but never expected Reebok was behind the dearth of WNBA products.  I am appalled that a premier brand–one that markets their products to women and promotes a positive female image–wouldn’t deem the MOST successful women’s professional sports franchise in the WORLD worthy of your warehouse.  Fans are clamoring to buy WNBA merchandise and your corporation needs to offer it to stores so we can buy it!  Please let me know what you are going to do to correct this oversight.



I received no response, and nothing has changed. . .




Brandi Carlile is Too Late!

7 Oct

Last night I went to the Knitting Factory to see Brandi Carlile for the first time.  This experience was completely different from the Minus the Bear (also hailing from Seattle) concert.  I would NOT have purchased the tickets on a weeknight if I had known Brandi and her band would not step on to the stage until 9:30 PM.  When you have to work on your feet all day Friday from 7 AM to 6 PM, even 9:00 PM feels late.  But I did, b/c the tickets said the doors opened at 6:30 PM.

Did they open earlier for everyone else?  I felt like my mate and I were at the front of the line, but when Knitting Factory staff let us in (at 6:50! gerrr) the bar tables were full.  But that was OK because the venue had wisely allotted the upstairs for 21 and over.  Never-mind, somehow, ALL the tables and chairs were already packed.  It was a total bummer, and I was immediately sad I went early if I was going to have to stand anyway. . .

How many tickets does the Knitting Factory sell?  It seemed beyond capacity to me.  People were pretty much in every available space:  On the stairs, around the bars, standing in front of the doors.  I couldn’t help but to think of the book I just finished, “Triangle:  The Fire that Changed America” about the 140 people who perished in a fire because they did not have appropriate exits.  So we stayed on the ground floor for the most part–near the door.  We did manage to find “seats” on the inch and a half railing between the bar and dance floor area.  This was comfortable for 0.2 seconds only, and we abandoned the spot knowing we would lose it in favor of buying some beer.

Knitting Factory–who do you think you are with your beer prices?  $13.03 for two plastic cups of beer???  Really?!  We drank ours as the first opener played–at 7:30 PM.  After an hour of nothing.  Standing up.  By the way, when did bands start having TWO openers?  Brandi mentioned she had opted to share the night with Justin Towne Earle because of some snaffu.  I’m not sure if the venue double-booked, or if his venue shut down, or if the timing was off or what, but I thought it was gracious of her.  But this Justin Townes Earl really took advantage of her kindness.  Instead of realizing they had to SHARE the time, he just went ahead and played an entire long set.  So the night should have been ending before she ever took the stage–it was really rude.  And neither the true opener, nor his thing really resonated with me this time, but they weren’t terrible or anything.  He just busted the time-table.

When Brandi and her band came on it was already past my bedtime.  She looked really cute and is the ONLY person that can pull off a vest–this includes Ellen DeGeneres.  Anyway, I can see why the Indigo Girls love Brandi Carlile–she is a powerful singer, her songs are catchy and personal, she’s a top-notch performer, and she already has a devoted fan-base, even though she’s just now working on her fourth CD.  A lot of the people around me had seen her in concert 5-7 times, and two girls even flew in from CA to take in another show.  The crowd went absolutely wild when Brandi and her band jammed out to Johnny Cash!  They looked to be having so much fun that how could the crowd NOT be into it?

It HAS to be mentioned that we encountered about the douchiest group of people possible.  When we were scouting out seats, these people were using their stools to hold their coats as they stood.  Then, later these same (belligerently drunk) old people shoved through the people that had stood at the front of the dance floor for two hours to secure their good places.  Then, they proceed to couple-dance in the tight area, pushing everyone around, and generally taking up more then their share of space.  Then, these people pretty much edged out everyone around them, all the while giving the stink eye at anyone who looked annoyed by their shenanigans (me).  I would have thrown an elbow or two if I didn’t think it would lead to an actual fist fight.  That sort of put a damper on the spirit of the show. . .

Set List

9:30 PM

What Can I Say
Heart Young

–>10:40 PM (left for bed)
Raise Hell
Before it Breaks
Pride & Joy

autographing for the crowd *please say it ain’t so!*

Unfortunately, I left after the second new song, because it was 10:40 PM and I knew I would pay for it in the morning.  So I left feeling a little regretful, but hoping to see Brandi–either earlier or on an eve of a day off–soon.  Maybe CoMo or Reno. . .

And of course this would be the time Brandi walks through the crowed talking and giving autographs–because I had to leave early to get ready to do surgeries the next morning!  I blame the stupid Knitting Factory, because they’re a terrible venue who can’t get their shit together.  I also blame Justin Townes Earl for not shortening his set when he shouldn’t have even been there.  And I blame Brandi for being too nice.  I am so disappointed.  That was probably my only chance to meet Brandi Carlile!!!

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Goodbye to My Jetta (a re-cap)

1 Oct

You remember my beloved, yet deeply flawed purple Jetta.  I loved that car!  It was purple, compact, fuel-efficient, and my first car ever.  I learned to drive in that car, my dad and I on the back roads of Mark Twain, while I learned to shift from first to second.  It took hours.  It’s the hardest part you know–getting started in first, then getting to second.  This is where people “kill it.”  I was number one at stalling that Jetta–the clutch was really long, and required great timing.  Only thing more technically advanced than getting out of first gear without stalling is doing it on a hill–and just forget it if there’s rain, snow, or heaven-forbid ice on that hill.  At any rate, I failed my first driving test in that car–with the clutch squeaking shrilly.  I passed the second test in it.  Drove countless time between Nevada and Missouri.  Seriously–I’m not sure how many times I made that drive, but it was too many, and I’ll never do it again.  I felt cool driving the Jetta too.  It seemed hippys and yuppys alike could get down with the VW.  I felt like one of the popular kids driving that car around.

Sure the Jetta had it’s problems.  The check engine light was always on.  No matter what, and from practically the very beginning.  Even the dealership would say, “That’s normal, it IS a Volkswagen!”  Passing inspection became a strategic race against time.  I had to pour more brake fluid in before I drove anywhere for the longest time, because there was a leak, but no one could find WHERE.  I changed my share of tires, replaced the windshield numerous times, and lost every last hub cap and stripping on the side of the car.  If I glued it back on, it would just melt off the next week.  Also, if I drove in a puddle, it would just drift to a stop, and not start again until the undercarriage completely dried out.  This was not an exceptional condition to have in Seattle, P.S.  And of course things would rattle, or it would overheat for no reason.  Every long trip in that car was terrifying–you never knew if it was just a Volkswagen superficial problem, or if that was going to be THE END, and you would be left stranded.  But I loved that car.

Last year, Seattle’s hills and constant rain killed my Jetta.  I cried–hard.  Like a sobbing cry of despair and misery.  One for the sentimental loss, two because there was no means to get a replacement, and three, the biggest reason of all, was my loss of independence.

To Get That LVT or Not???

19 Mar

We made it.  Maybe we were whimsical and impractical about moving logistics.  After the expensive move (which was hardly a mercurial choice) from Seattle to random Spokane we have resisted the urge to spend money capriciously long enough to catch up financially.  Cool and I willfully avoided any and all expenditures that were not absolutely necessary–and put off some that were way too long.  Our erratic job possibilities in the beginning of our move made this a difficult task to accomplish–but we managed it.  It was by pure chance and luck that I found my (wonderfully, awesome) job and Cool got an arbitrary job at a call center.  That is fickle about keeping people, and has erratic scheduling policies.  BUT even though her job is completely inconsistent, at least it pays the bills!

the flight

After moving so much I would like to gain a little job security.  Also, my salary has been at a standstill for some time now, and an instant pay-raise wouldn’t hurt my feelings.  I think employers are starting to give preference to licensed techs rather than ones with experience–even if that experience is substantial, and the person has a bachelor’s degree in Animal Science for fuck’s sake.  Also, an LVT or RVT doesn’t guarantee a better employee–no technical school (or legit college for that matter) can teach work ethic.  Anyway, veterinary technician jobs reach a stagnation phase pretty quickly–you can’t have upward mobility without more education.  So as soon as I heard that Washington allows people to take a test rather than paying for two years of technical school (which is below my college-level course material) I was all about it!  I may not agree with the inertia of veterinary assistant monetary compensation or the stasis in hiring individuals without a tech license, but that doesn’t mean I can’t “play the game” as Mary advised me to do repeatedly.  I want equilibrium in my career, and I thought showing the veterinary admissions board I had the initiative to take an extra test and get extra credentials behind my name couldn’t hurt.

“playing the game”

The Veterinary Technician National Exam criteria were difficult to discern.  Distinguishing current rules, procedure, and timelines for veterinary technicians compared to whatever else was next to impossible.  As soon as I would glimpse a plausible answer to my questions, I would spot another, contrary set of procedural rules.  Coming to any kind of perception about my eligibility was frustrating!  Detecting the true source of correct information about whether I should waste my time to apply to take the test was damn-near impossible!  As soon as I spotted some rules, I would see other links leading me to different pages and governing bodies and rules to espy.  If I spied something that seemed helpful at all, it turned out to be geared toward something else.  Separating what I needed to know and differentiating between tests proved too much for me.  I could tell they didn’t want people to use the experience pathway anymore because they wouldn’t even let you recognize the material for that application.  I feel it’s pretty discriminatory considering the law still allows people to test-in to their LVT until 2015.  I thought I could better catch up with the info if I called and talked to an actual person.  The help line couldn’t tell me that much either.


Oh, and let me back up a little.  I have a natural inclination towards veterinary medicine.  As a child, I had a predisposition towards animals.  I also had a predilection towards science from a young age.  And of course my penchant for hard work, and partiality towards organization didn’t hurt my future goals.  My propensity for responsibility garnered me many leadership positions, and early volunteer and job positions in veterinary hospitals.  That is still my eventual goal–to become nothing less than a veterinarian!

I have been working and working to crest that steep hill of veterinary school acceptance.  It would be the crescendo of my life to get that DVM behind my name!  It has always been the climax of my day to head to the hospital.  Hopefully, working FOR veterinarians is not the capstone of my veterinary experience.  Of course, I would not want the acme of my working life to end at LVT.  I would like to see the culmination of all my efforts end in a veterinary career.

Though I am a connoisseur of the veterinary admissions process, having applied a zillion times, I did not realize my plan might hurt my chances of acceptance.  The veterinarian I work with on Fridays and some Saturdays, an authority in admissions herself (3 attempts) and married to a vet, told me to be careful about getting an LVT.  She said being an epicure tech could make the board think that was all I needed to be happy.  She said, she had known licensed technicians and horse-shoe gourmets who had tried and failed to get into vet school repeatedly.  Even though I think it’s stupis and discriminatory to reject people with proven skills, again, I need to jump through the right hoops and make life easier on myself (for once).

let me in!

And easier sounds good right now.  I don’t even like to bring it up, because I am still putting my whole heart into this project of getting admitted into a veterinary program, but after this year, my efforts will dramatically slacken.  After years and years of trying, my devotion to veterinary school, and especially the tedious application process is flagging.  And no, not because I have lost interest in my dream career.  My motivation has not subsided, but my energy has waned.  Understand the difference?  And who’s spirit would not dwindle after so many close-calls and eventual failures?  Declining vigor and the strength to carry on after this possible failure will have ebbed completely.  A person can only take so much, and wait so long.  I have to start my life some time in the near future because I’m not getting any younger.  I would love for it to be on my chosen path of veterinary medicine, but if it doesn’t happen for me, I need to pursue other interests.

What ARE my other interests?  I’m not certain I know of any concrete and viable jobs that I am truly interested in (and that will pay the bills).  Throwing myself so completely in pursuit of my animal aspirations sort of obstructed any other career paths.  I guess my hunger for the ONE profession blocked out any other job desires, and closed the door on any other career paths.  It’s not like I meant to occlude any possible employment, but focusing so intently on becoming a veterinarian pretty much barricaded some options for me.  Maybe I completely obstructed any other meaningful career by wanting the vet thing too much?

It would be salubrious to have a back up plan.  Bracing myself for another possible failure would be the prudent thing to do.  In the past, I thought doing that was as good as giving up.  I feared it would jinx me to even consider other career options.  Now I see at as a therapeutic, and wise thing to perceive.  Not to mention, having another plan ready just in case would be like tonic for a bad financial scene.  So to start the medicinal process, I have at least entertained myself in other jobs.  I have to say, I haven’t liked my other options thus far, but at least I’m getting slightly more healthful during this application process than the ones gone by.

Since I am by no means prescient, I have no idea what-so-ever what my employement future holds.  Hey if I was oracular, I could also know exactly what would be on my GRE so I could study only those problems!  But seriously, I wish I was inaugural so I could know if Washington will accept me.    It doesn’t take a divinatory person to know another vet school rejection will be devastating.  If I was mantic, I could decide now if investing my soul once again will be worthwhile.  It would be pretty helpful to be premonitory in finding a different career path too.  Having foresight would be helpful in many arenas I guess. . .

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Baby Steps [2009-2010]

6 Feb

I have always been empowered by a list, so maybe making this one will make me feel less helpless and frustrated.

Firstly:  Get out of Seattle before it makes me impure and pretentious!

Get Cool out of the debased frat house so she can save loads of money
search for Spokane jobs
get temporarily cheap housing
give notice to the doctors at AVH
get cavities drilled
save more money
get an apartment to stay
get all the stuff to Spokane

#2:  Save money, money and more money.

Work at said job
limit expenses
pursue financial aid
look for outside funding
combine resources and save like the dickens
look for scholarships
call Pullman financial aid office for questions
fill out FAFSA

#3:  Get a head start:

Write/schmooze 6 prospective letter of recommendation writers
study GRE
work on essay
hone job descriptions
do mock interviews
request transcripts

#4:  Do it!

Call the school and ask questions
pay for the appliication the day it opens
send everything immediately
write it all out early
check it twice, later

Seattle + Vocab

5 Feb

I was getting more and more distressed about paying rent on the vacated 12th avenue room, but the acme of my devastation occurred when my Jetta broke down for good.

Despite their awkward and decidedly unhandsome appearances, Kidron’s male roommates always had a bevy of females ready for fucking.

Kidron’s revolving roommates all had several things in common: A penchant for constant bonomy all night, extreme messiness, and a shortage of funds.

Upon moving here, I hadn’t realized Seattle was an abyss of pretention, rabid environmentalism, and narrow-minded liberalism.

Once I moved to Seattle, my life became wracked with constant chaos due to the necessity of living with morally corrupt strangers and working with the entitled public.

In both my 12 Ave duplex and Kidron’s shared house, irresponsible roommates mindlessly defaced the rental property.

The dissonace of honking horns and rude drivers was bested only by the dischord of every living arrangement in the city.

Joe-Cool became fractious, requiring Prozac in order to use the litter-box rather than our sheets, after listening to the constant dischord in the house.

The expensive nature of Seattle housing, taxes, gasoline, groceries, entertainment, etc, etc  is contrary to any frugal lifestyle.

Garrulous Tabatha often forced me into conversation when all I wanted was relaxing peace and quiet after working with the public.

Instead of the lifelong friends I had hoped for, my roommates and I were instantly heterogeneous, not agreeing on anything.

When Kidron wrote a blog questioning the lack of chain restaurants in the city, Seattle individuals invidiously ganged up on her and told her chains were not welcome, and attacked her character for suggesting such an atrocious thing.

When  first came to Seattle, I believed whole-heartedly in recycling, but after being inundated with veracious environmentalists who criticized ignorance of the complicated trash systems and recycling policies, I started to rebel against green-living.

Almost as soon as I arrived in Seattle, and realized I would be unable to afford individual housing, I began to lament my days in Missouri when I had my own one bedroom apartment all to myself.

I was leery about walking on sketchy Aurora Avenue or going to work in the dark, because of the addicts, prostitutes, and delinquents hanging out on the street and at the motels nearby.

First the douchi-brothers than Party Animal would be constantly home using the utilities, listless all day after night-long, loud debauchery.

I came to dread Auntie’s loquacious and repetitive chatter.

We called Tabitha “Elephant-Stomper” because she lumbered around so hard at all-hours that the floor would shake.

Despite her own sloppiness, inconsiderate behavior, and inability to finish any project she started, Tabitha was a martinetabout everyone else’s minor slights around 12th avenue.

I once made the mistake of riding the bus to The Ave late at night and realized the overabundance of mendicants made the solitary walk home very dangerous for a young woman.

In the night and wee hours of the morning it was difficult for me to be good-natured about the noisy mirth of my roommates’ parties–it made me tired and bellicose.

It nettled me that every person showing a shared property asked me if I liked to garden, but never inquired about my ability to pay rent.

My male roommate was perfunctory to the extreme, keeping his night job without even handing out a resume anywhere else, locking himself in his room rather than directly dealing with Tabitha, and even skipping meals because he didn’t care enough to heat anything up.

Night after night, day after day, the number of people in Kidron’s shared-house would proliferate to the point we never recognized the faces staring our way when we ventured out of the bedroom to go to the bathroom.

As a sort of head-count, Tabitha would always initiate conversation upon entering the house, prattling on endlessly about nothing.

The stentorian sound of traffic and roommates in Seattle is constant.

Tabitha refused to wash her own dishes or clean up after herself–for weeks, but when I cleaned she would go into a tiradeabout how she didn’t like anyone touching her belongings.

Moving + Vocab

3 Feb

It’s not that I want to abase Seattle, and especially Aurora Veterinary, but it just wasn’t for me.

I have a feeling we can aggrandize our financial and employment positions and augment our dreams now that we’re outside the hustle of Seattle.

I try to respond with alacrity at work, but not knowing where things are placed is a huge stumbling block.

Our neighbors have already started antagonizing us with their constant loud noise at night–but at least they are not IN our house.

You would think sitting at home unemployed would get banal in a hurry, but the constant financial stress was a good deterrent.

I liked greyhounds, but the bevy of neurotic owners that AVH had turned me off of the breed.

When I start a new job I try to jump in where I can, help do what I know, and be candid about what I don’t know–every hospital is different.

Shared housing was the big catalyst for our move across the state, but our jobs, the pretension of the city, traffic, and more were factors.

I wish employers would call references, so someone else could corroborate that I am a knowledgeable tech and good worker.

I started out in a depressed state, but the declivity went even faster once my housing situation became less than desirable, my car broke down, and I started to hate my job.

The Seattle mentality includes an unwavering pride of the city despite problems, rabid environmentalism, disregard for outside opinions and ways of life, and a severely liberal point of view, among other characteristics that are endemic to those who stay long enough.

Moving is expensive, not having a job is scary, but the fact we moved toward the end of a month and bills were due on the firstexacerbated the financial worries.

Melissa became my friend after the first time I quit, and I felt like she helped exonerate me from my loser status at the hospital.

I have been running at a frenetic pace since I left Missouri April of 2009–I want to take it easier for awhile.

Since I couldn’t depend on a paycheck for almost a month, I had to practice major frugality–only buying necessities, and going without even those sometimes.

I could not be furtive about my dislike of the Emerald City–and the residents didn’t appreciate it at all.

glibly prepared for the move, payed for it, and learned my lesson to save more money next time.

I didn’t like the clientele at Aurora Veterinary Hospital–I felt they were hateful with me from the start, and it caused megrievous stress.

I only find out when my prior vet hospital is using a hoary method when I begin to use it at the new place.

Seattle would like to believe Spokane is an impious anomaly in the state with their lack of rabid environmentalists and pretension, but it is just more down to earth and hit harder by the economy.

Even though my dream of being a veterinarian is still inchoate, at least in Spokane I feel like I’m moving towards it instead of just keeping my head above water in Seattle.

After we moved to Spokane, and before we secured employment, we were inundated with bills.

There is no use lamenting over the past–I tried my best, used the tools I had at the time, and have to accept my new path in life–and a new time-line.

I can see how homeless people get desperate enough to commit larceny–being poor is scary!

I hope the low cost of living will allow us to live a more lavish lifestyle–soon.

Poor Kidron has to train during the swing shift but get up with me at the crack of dawn so she will be lethargic (and more than likely sick) in no time.

Though the weather was mild year around, the constant cloudiness of Seattle made me feel listless.

Beginning work at Cat’s Meow has marred my idea that Aurora was exceptional at following AAHA guidelines and laws–the techs were doing many things that they aren’t supposed to be doing–no wonder I didn’t know some of those things after 9-10 years!

I felt like everyone in Seattle, even those at my job, and even Auntie were militating against me.

Seattle’s shared housing was not for me, because I am somewhat of a misanthrope who would prefer never to see people.

I will appreciate some monotony at work now that I have experience over-booking, lazy co-workers, and otherwise chaotic conditions.

As much as the stupid neighbors nettle me at night, it is STILL so much better than Tabitha, the frat house, or living with Auntie!

The U-Haul and car rental companies are permeated with scams–most of the moving money went to these expensive entities.

The next door neighbors are plebeian, smoking on the balcony, getting drunk every weekend, partying all night, and shouting in the stairwell at inappropriate hours–real trailer trash.

Debbie next door loudly prattles on and on (outside her apartment) from 11 PM until she passes out at 2-3 AM.

I am motivated to have my savings proliferate at a rapid pace so I can buy a car and other needfuls.

Of course I am still restive about my future and have no intention of staying in Spokane for life.

Before she hired me, my boss asked if swearing offended me and warned me of her ribald nature–as if I didn’t have ten years of experience at vet hospitas!

Despite plenty of time off for moving, my desire for a fun vacation hasn’t been satiated–packing, driving, and settling in a new place as well as wondering if and when you will get a paycheck to make the bills is hardly relaxing!

I wish Cool could find some sinecure that gave her sweet hours and paid her well so she wouldn’t have to be so anxious and we wouldn’t have to worry about money.

I am naturally an early riser, so I wasn’t too terribly soporific when I had to wake up at 6 AM to get to work.

My boss might be impatient–what vet isn’t–but at least she doesn’t have the volatile temperament of Ev.

Almost as soon as I arrived, whether it was because I came under duress or because of the people I met, I unequivocallyhated Seattle–it just wasn’t for me.

Since we are so short of funding, I have become a zealot about our spending habits–really watching every penny.