the devil's dog treat

never. ever. NEVEREVER buy these for your dogs. my dogs have had them twice (i bought them once and my mom bought them once), and each time BOTH dogs writhed in pain as they wretched the remnants of the evil oinkies out. i feel like writing hartz a letter and telling them they can shove their oinkies up their oinkes.

this dude can rock

over the weekend, the hubs, some friends and i saw this guy in concert.

these folks opened for him, and i was even more excited to see them (little big town) than i was the main show. little big town did not disappoint - i love the way they've fused the fleetwood mac vibe with contemporary country music. awesome.

but keith urban blew me away. i've always liked his music, but he's never entered my list of favs or must-sees . . . until now. the man is a seriously talented musician - he rocked no fewer than a half dozen guitars, and had more energy than the energizer bunny on speed. most of the show, i felt like i was at a rock concert and not a country pop concert because keith and his band kicked some serious ass. if you get a chance to see keith and company - take it - you won't regret it, even if you're not into country.

winter song

i've had this song on repeat all morning. i love it. i can't remember the last time i heard a song that captured my soul the way this one does. is love alive?

precarious

i know i haven't been a very good blogger lately.

i guess there are lots of reasons, and no reason at all.

i'm in limbo right now and i'm scared. i want to find an answer but i don't want the answer that i suspect i'm going to get.

image via ffffound.

93 words per minute

i enter my fair share of blogger contests. but i'm really keeping my fingers crossed for down and out chic's latest contest, which is a giveaway of this shabby apple dress. so friggin' cute. reminds me a bit of mad men's christina hendricks . . . what's not to L-O-V-E??

incidentally, i type 117 words per minute. what about you?

nice = moron

i heard that according to a recent study, portland has the nicest drivers in the entire country. oh, how i beg to differ. if you substitute any of the following words for "nice," then the study is correct: stupid, air-headed, sunday-driving, spacey, or just plain f*cking retarded. seriously.

one who doesn't live in portland, might think that the driver that just let you merge into traffic is being oh-so-considerate: i assure you, this isn't the case. he's too engrossed in his thoughts about the soil he uses in his vegan garden to notice that a world exists outside of his prius. i, too, made the mistake of thinking portland drivers were supernice when i first got here, but i have learned the truth. a truth that involves daily encounters with lame ass drivers who choose to drive 20 miles under the speedlimit in a 50 zone, come to a complete stop on the freeway to allow another car to enter their lane, put their blinker on for 3 miles, so you have no idea when they actually plan on turning, yielding to cars that don't have the right of way, etc etc.

makes me want to SCREEEEAM and almost makes me miss the aggression of LA drivers. almost.

the definition of courage

i had a whole list of crap i was going to rant about today to mark the return to regular blogging. but then i read this post. and everything else seems so insignificant and irrelevant. talk about being humbled.

public speaking

i am ridiculously busy this week taking a class on public speaking for work. two words for you: no likey. tomorrow i get to give a 20 minute presentation in front of the class on a topic of my choice. i chose to speak about the group above . . . should be interesting . . .

are you kidding me?

didn't like it. not one bit. i do think that gordon-leavitt did a wonderful job, but i was thoroughly bored with zooey's flat performance. i so desperately wanted her to tuck those swarthy sideburns behind her ears but it never happened: muy distracting. the story line was uncomfortably depressing - perhaps reminding me too much of relationships past to appreciate its unconventional approach to the romantic comedy. my final gripe: LA is an awesome city in its own right, so the director's obvious attempt to make it look like NYC pissed me off. sorry folks - i know everyone has ranted and raved, but i want those 2 hours and 500 days of my life back.

be still my colorful heart

a little surprise arrived in the mail last week. usually i am annoyed when i discover that my information has been sold to some catalog publisher, but when my first boden catalog arrived unsolicited, i was thrilled. i discovered that i love LOVE love their clothes - particularly because of the use of lots of vibrant colors. just take a look at a few of the things i plan on purchasing . . .

it's about time

i am starting to feel like myself again. halle-freakin-lujah. although i've only seen my new doc twice, she is the best doctor i've ever been to in my entire life. she's identified major issues that i've been struggling with for years and i'm already feeling better. she cares, and that makes all the difference. i'm thrilled, but also furious at all those half-ass doctors that kept brushing me off. i want to send them a scathing letter telling them where they can stick it. damned lazy losers.

i'm also excited because the hubs and i planted the seedlings of a new plan. i will continue working at my hell-hole (but well-paying job) for 6 months to a year: we will pay off all our debt besides our house, and then we'll be set for me to quit and open my own business. i can hardly wait. i know it will be an amazing amount of work, but i can't wait.

photo via ffffound.

living

sometimes i feel like life is whooshing past me. most of the time i feel like i merely exist, that i don't live, which really bothers me. i don't know how to fix it, though. i don't know if its because i'm not well, or if i'm just going through a phase. how to i get back to living?

image via ffffound.

am i really that boring? really?

i've got a bone to pick with you. yes, you. although if you're reading this, you're not really my target, but please, read on. if you've read miss rikki for a while, you'll know that i once restricted comments on my blog for fear of the "0 comments" tag at the bottom of each post: did i really want to know if my blog was going unread? then, i decided that i didn't really give a rat's ass if i had comments or not, so comments were allowed. now, i'm somewhere in between, because let's be honest, we put ourselves out there with the hope that we will be received by others in the bloggery, and he recent strain of "0 comments" on this here blog makes me wonder if anyone is out there or if i've been incidentally absorbed by the interweb.

i readily acknowledge that:

- i'm not the best writer;

- my pithy humor doesn't always translate well on the blog;

- i don't have design ideas oozing out of my pores;

- i have a great sense of style but don't spend my life savings on my wardrobe;

- i have a wonderful husband but i live in reality and not romance-la-la-land;

- i don't hate the world and want to drone on about the darkness;

- i have no children.

so maybe my blog goes relatively ignored because i don't fall into one of the prescribed blog categories: the writer/the comedian/the designer/the fashionista/the meg-ryan-love-is-a- real-life-romantic-comedy/the life hater/or the mommy blog. or maybe i don't put myself out there enough (yes, yes, i know you all love the pictures, but i'm not loving my reflection right now). maybe what i have to say is totally irrelevant (although i'd say in the scheme of life, most blog content is relatively irrelevant). maybe my sole follower (thank you, and hugs!) will be the only one to hear this voice, and maybe that fact will prompt me to stop holding back for fear of alienating the blogging masses, which i is realize is silly since they don't read miss rikki anyways.

ahhhh. that feels better, and sometimes all it takes is a nice little case of verbal diarrhea.

THE plan

i've hesitated discussing the plan. somehow, putting the plan into words would mean acknowledging that the plan had ::gasp:: failed, and i wasn't ready for that. but i think i need to say the words - i think i need to let the universe know that i'm open to a new plan . . .

the fear of admitting the plan isn't anything new. how many times as a child were we asked what do you want to be when you grow up? i imagine i was not alone in hesitating to answer that question truthfully for a long, long time. i didn't want to hear the pitied "oh that's so ambitious" or the sarcastic "good luck with that," or even the realistic statistics of my chance for success. so instead, i'd answer with something safely achievable: i want to be an accountant, a lawyer, a teacher.

but my real answer, what i wanted to be, what i planned my life around was becoming an fbi agent. maybe that's anticlimactic to you, but to me, the appeal of being part of the most elite law enforcement agency in the world was unrivaled. i avidly read all the true crime books i could get my hands on as a child. my favorite movie growing up was FEDS (about two women pursuing a career with the fbi). its difficult for me to articulate exactly what sparked this desire: its probably a combination of helping others, feeling powerful, and being part of something so revered. and i was determined to turn this desire into reality through carefully executed planning and preparation.

almost every decision i made from high school on was made after considering will this help me get there? my selection of college courses, my grad school program, my forensics training, my current job: all were strategic choices to help me fulfill my dream, my plan. and i was almost there. i passed the personality and psychology profile. i passed the written exam. i'd aced the interview portion (which some professional recruiters consider the most difficult interview process in existence). i was in the best shape of my life. i was just a step away from heading to the fbi academy when the plan started to crumble.

the specifics of why the plan crumbled will be the subject of another lengthy post on another rainy day. but what started as sore muscles and annoying headaches has turned into knee-buckling migraines and muscle/joing pain so severe that sometimes i cannot walk up stairs. almost two years of exams, mris, xrays, blood tests, biopsies, and more, i'm not much closer to knowing what's wrong. but i do know this: knowing what i know now, i don't think my dream or my plan would have been any different. because its not necessarily the actualization of the dream that fulfills us, but having the dream - having something to hope for and work towards - that keeps us going. and that's where the implosion of the plan has left me feeling lost: i need a dream, and i need a plan. and i'm not quite sure where to find either.

i survived

forget any previous post where i have declared a show the best on television. i survived, on the biography channel, is the most intensely moving television show i've seen. if you've watched the show, you know exactly what i mean. if you haven't, you're missing some of the best stories demonstrating the will to live and the power of the human mind. the simple technique of filming the victim very close up, as they recount the details of their ordeal, makes the story so personal: you almost feel as if you are in the room with the victim. here are just a few examples, but you can find more here.

wayne and mary, season 1: after a nearby train derailment causes a massive chlorine gas leak, wayne and mary (and three relatives) are trapped in their homes, unable to escape. the chlorine is so strong, it melts their keys, so they cannot go anywhere. the police will not respond, for fear of their own safety, nor will they let volunteers assist those trapped (and even threaten to shoot volunteers with their own chem gear if they try to help). wayne and mary are repeatedly given horrible instructions by the dispatcher, including being told to take showers: combining water with chlorine creates hydrochloric acid . . .

dan and danielle, season 2: while taking an evening walk, dan and danielle are forced into a stranger's truck and gunpoint. both are shot - danielle in the face - and are tossed into a river to drown. they play dead and float down the cold river, while their shooter watches on. afraid to swim to shore for fear that they will be shot again by the shooter, they continue to act dead. when they finally reach the shore, a man flags down a truck to help rescue them. fearful that the truck is the same truck they were forced into earlier, the two jump back in the river. . .

terri, season 3: terri heads to her ex-husband's house to pick up her girls who have been spending time with their dad. when the kids don't come out, terri knocks and the door, and is invited in, despite just wanting to get her girls and leave. her ex-husband savagely attacks her, beating her in the head with a baseball bat: her head swells up to three times its normal size. he then stuffs her into a garbage can, and dumps the can at a remote location, where terri begins to freeze. . .

check it out. you'll be so moved by these stories, and feel that you're life, as crappy as it seems sometimes, really is wonderful. (you'll also be completely horrified by what one human being is capable of doing to another. ::shudder::)

photo from here.

i just can't get enough

i missed so you think you can dance this week but the hubs tivo-ed for me. i am SO glad he did because i can't stop watching the mia michaels' number that kayla and kupono danced to sara barellesis' gravity (only one of the best songs ever). the judges just seemed lukewarm, but the routine was so visceral, so emotional, i hold my breath every time i watch it. haven't seen it? go HERE.

just listed

i finally posted some new goodies on etsy tonight. here is my fav of the latest batch of creations: the "clementine" earrings are all sterling, with bright orange chalcedony and aquamarine rondelles. i can't wear these enough!

did you watch?

i only caught the segment where brooke shields spoke. i thought she was so genuine, providing a look into michael the person and not the superstar. her hands shook as she nervously tucked her hair behind her should every few seconds, trying to hold back the tears. may we all be so lucky to have a friend who really knows us, identifies with our life struggles, and makes us laugh until we cry, as brooke had in michael.

image from the mirror.

salt lake, here i come!

i leave this afternoon for salt lake city . . . i haven't been home in several years. although i'll only be gone for a few days - most of which will be spent working - i'm excited to see family and friends at a big bash tomorrow night. and to see how much the city has grown since i moved away ten years ago. any suggestions on where i should eat while there? i still have my favs, but i know lots of new places have popped up over the last few years . . .

image from destination 360.

new book

i just spent the last hour perusing this book. although i wish the book offered more unique recipes, i am really excited to try the following yummies:

- snickerdoodle cupcakes

- applesauce spice cupcakes

- strudel cupcakes