Miracles Among Herd Animals (aka, Us.)

I went a little wild with the pictures. But I just wanted to illustrate my point of how amazing people are.

This is my grandpa, one of the studliest guys alive. He's just unavoidably awesome.

My mom and dad are superheroes, hands down.
My sister Lauren and I have the quirkiest relationship ever, but I'll be the first to say I wouldn't trade it for the world.
Lauren and Mike are just meant to be.
This is me and my big brother on Amy's wedding day. Honestly I am so blessed to have the family I do- Bubba looks out for me.

This is Mallie and me. We've been best friends since the summer before kindergarten.

This is my boyfriend Dan- he's definitely been through a lot, but he is such a good example and he's always there for you when you need him.

This is me, Brandon, and Jessica. Jessica is one of those people that you're proud to even know their name. I'll talk a little about her in a minute. For now, just admire the fact that she is the person that introduced me to the British comedy, "The IT Crowd".

This is Amy and Jon, my sister and brother-in-law, about a year ago. I look up to them so much.

This is Josh and Lydia, my two little siblings. They are great teachers in my life, and I love them to death! (ignore the white space please, this picture's from a film negative and I scanned it into the school computer, and sent it to my email, and then the PS on my home computer refuses to crop anything... sooo... yeah...)

So, for some reason today, for a few minutes, I felt rather existential. I think it may have been the fact that I was lying on the floor in the sun and almost asleep (it was too cold on the couch and too hot outside so I compromised and found a spot of sun on the carpet), but as I was observing the interactions between my family, I kind of wondered- what the heck?

Humans are weird. I mean, other creatures contain elements of human psychology- like chimps and crows make and use tools, and dogs understand point of view, and elephants and dolphins and great apes can recognize themselves in the mirror- but only snatches of it. There are even examples of animals showing compassion to other species- elephants in particular, they're known to help out a wildebeest or a giraffe that has become mired, and dolphins have a reputation for protecting humans from danger in the wild (not just the trained ones at SeaWorld)- but never on such a large scale. Squirrells don't pool some of their winter storage together so that a debilitated squirrell can make it through the winter along with them, do they? We are a purely unique species.

Do you know how intense that is? I learned a bit about biology when I worked at the zoo, and it was interesting to realize what a miracle life is, let alone human life. And for all the sadness and ugliness and filth that happens among us, so much primitive anger, there is so much more compassion and beauty. Like the girl that I graduated with that became an RN simultaneous with her highschool graduation, so that she could earn enough money to help take care of her dad who is sick with kidney failure, and then also know enough when she was home that a respite nurse didn't have to stay there all the time. And my friend's mom, who has fostered fourteen kids to date while their families were healing, even though when she first started fostering, was a single mom. A very close friend of mine lost her dad to cancer, which he contracted while working as a fire-fighter, and to the end, this man was one of the most giving, kind people I'd ever met. It's rubbed off on every member of their family, and I'm proud to say that I even know them. The even simpler acts of kindness seem to make an imperceptible but huge difference- just things like acknowledging someone you went to school with when paths cross in the grocery store, or taking the time to ACTUALLY LISTEN to the old lady at church that tells the same story every week. I guess all I'm trying to say in this post is that I'm glad we're human, because there is so much beauty in our species that goes unnoticed- and since I'm lucky enough to be a part of this whole thing, I get to witness those little miracles. Keep your eye out for the best in people- you might be surprised where (and how often) you find it.

I am anti death penalty.

She didn't make it.

But these guys can.




Those of you who know me, know that I try to volunteer some of my time to animals in some way. At one point it was even at the zoo. Now, I volunteer by writing ads for shelter dogs that are going to get put down if they aren't adopted. It's so rewarding when these dogs get adopted- I was lucky enough to have my cousins adopt one, so I get to see the joy that their little rescued westie brings to their lives. The part that isn't so rewarding, however, is the part that is inevitible- some of these dogs don't get adopted. One of my favorites got put down yesterday, and so I thought I would dedicate this post to him, and all the shelter pets.

There are purepred, mixed bred, "designer" bred, and mystery bred dogs and cats at the shelter right now. These animals aren't there through any fault of their own- they are there because their owners moved and didn't want to take the time to find them a new home, or family member developed an allergy, because the landlord suddenly decided "no pets" (some of these I think are just jerks that are too self-absorbed to think before they get a pet, "Hey, can I really commit to this animal?"). I'm not even lying, you type in a breed you're looking for and there will be matches of all ages and locations. If you're thinking of bringing a pet into your life, please go to PetFinder.com and put in your search info. I can promise you- shelter dogs have more love to give.

If you drop a penny from the Empire State Building it actually never makes it to the ground.

That penny actually ends up on an outcrop about 20 feet down, where you can't see it, and an old lady named Gladys cleans it off ever other day. So your dreams of either running to the sidewalk below and finding a faceless penny OR running to the sidewalk and finding that you have inadvertantly killed a pedestrian with a penny are both now shattered. Leave it to me to be the level-headed one. Also, according to MythBusters, neither of those things happen even if you can get it past the outcrop 20 feet below. If it does hit someone in the head, it just leaves a mark and really pisses them off.

As it turns out... I bought a small lap-deer. (plus other random thoughts about my dogs)

Asleep in his bag on the way to a workshop today.

He covers his eyes when he sleeps sometimes.

It just so happens that my dogs are amazing. Probably cooler than your kid. Especially if your kid is ugly. Then my dogs would win hands down.
Holy crap. Freaking prime.
See the deer resemblence?

Boy do I feel like an idiot... I dunno how to remove the duplicate...

So I got this new dog, right? He's freaking cute. He's the atypical chihuahua- no buggy eyes or squashed nose for him, and none of the squatty-body shape either. He is a freaking deer. A lap-deer, as I like to refer to him. He is on my lap right now, with his spike collar on (I just got him fixed and I figured, poor guy, he's just got fixed, he's a chihuahua, and his last owner was flamboyantly gay... might as well let him keep what little masculinity he has and nix the bling collars) and shaking because his sweater is in the wash. Yes, he has a sweater. A grey argyle sweater, nonetheless. Turns out pet stores sell pretty girly dog clothes, so if you ever want to make me really, really happy with you, go to punkypuppy.com and buy him the Ramones shirt or the Skull and Crossbones hoodie... so cute. Anyway. Boy am I ADHD. As I was saying, he is a deer dog. A six pound deer. He's still pretty skinny now, because he wasn't adequately cared for when he was younger, but we're working on that one. He comes with me everywhere now, and he kind of worships me, which I don't mind. He's figured out that he has the whole agility thing going for him when he wrestles with Lincoln, my mom's one year old mini dachshund (pronounced dox hund, NOT doshund... Lydia's little friend berated me the other day for pronouncing it correctly. Little kids can be poops) and so poor Lincoln just surrenders and rolls over and lets Sebastian (my deer dog) chew on his giant floppy ears. Chadwick, the family mascot (he's a fifteen year old weiner dog who is probably the most awesome dog upon the face of the earth, bar none, and don't even argue because Chadwick is old AND hot-dog shaped and you can't beat that), has not succumbed so easily, though. Their has been an uneasy relationship between the two since day one, where Sebastian tried to dominate and I took Chadwick's side. There has been a great deal of squint-glares from Sebastian to Chadwick since then. And no joke, my dog really does glare. He even smiles and sometimes will raise one eyebrow. A friend of mine doesn't like sitting by me when I hold him because he raises the one eyebrow and smiles and it really does give off the impression that he is hitting on her. Anyway (sorry, my train of thought derails frequently...) today, I was sitting on the couch, and for the first time since ever, Sebastian and Chadwick CUDDLED. As in, didn't even try to assert dominance by starting an orgy (I hate it so bad when they do that, it so weirds me out). So I had to brag in this post about that accomplishment. Peace has been established. I would say "All Quiet on the Western Front," but that just depresses me and I think it doesn't really apply very well. Just pretend it did though. Also, Sebastian falls asleep in funny positions, ie, covering his eyes with his paws. And wanna hear the best tidbit of today? I took a writing workshop from a guy named Chauncey Secrist, and he isn't British but has a really long ponytail and a nose-ring, and one of my fellow students wrote a hate poem to me. Turns out my joking earlier about being vegetarian was no bueno... she's a vegan.

Oh The Places You'll Go!

This year, during our non-existant spring break (this year, they decided to nix it, and then decided to restore it again next year... in ninth grade we got jipped out of our zoo fieldtrip, too- the class of 2008 just got ripped off like a roll of TP) my A'Cappella choir class got to go to San Francisco. I will not hesitate in saying that I really, really loved it, and would not mind living there, were it not for the abundance of drug deals going on in front of one of the cathedrals. And the creepy drunk clown that followed us around and asked us personal questions. I digress. For the most part, I enjoyed it immensely. It was definitely worth the eleven hour bus ride (should have been eight, but our busdriver got us lost, and also went over speed bumps so fast it made you wonder if you had just hit a small, beached orca rather than a speed bump, because the jarring made you hit your head and split open your shin on the foot rest bar) and the gummy fruits melting to my jeans. As it turns out, I kind of love SanFran.

One of my favorite parts was the pearl place. They have a huge tank of these oysters, and you pick one, and then they let you pry it open and poke out the pearl (but not before knocking the table or ringing the bell and yelling "ALOHA!" at the pearl, because apparently, pearls need a birthing ceremony or something) and then you clean up the pearl and you get to pick the setting you put it in and everything. I kind of went overboard and bought three pearls. All went to good use though! One for me, one for my mom, and one for my little sister's eighth birthday. I was lucky, and none of them were plain white or flawed, some of the people there didn't get a pearl in their first oyster, and if they did, alot of them were ugly and/or plain white. Mine were blue, pink, and cream.

Another fond experience there was the A's game. We sang the national anthem there, and also got to see Ludicris throw the opening pitch. He had to pitch two because the first one ended up very far away from its intended destination. There is a reason he is a rapper and not an athlete. As it turns out though, baseball games are only entertaining for so long. The Oakland Athletics lost by one point and I became very, very bored. That is probably going to be my last baseball game. Then we had quite the contrast of experience by going straight to visit the Oakland LDS temple. Can I just inform you that it is lovely?

Then there was Brian the firedancer guy. He was pretty cool. He asked me and my two friends if we wanted to go clubbing with him at some place called Crimson Sky or Red Sky or something like that, but we didn't think that would be the best idea.

Singing in the Grace Cathedral was also an awesome experience. It took me back to Europe for a little bit.

So what is the point of this entire post? Nothing really. I just wanted to show my pictures.

"Hey Owl? Can I have some cookies?"

My name, as it happens, is Ali. So I thought I would explain to you, in this first little part, why I chose "Hey Owl" as my blog address.

I am one of the middle kids out of 6 children (not counting my brothers-in-law, Mike and Jon), so obviously I have younger siblings. One of these two younger siblings is the very famous Josh, who has said such famous lines as, "I hope it's something good... like CASH." (that about a Mother's Day gift yet to be opened). My nickname, as given by Josh, has become Owl. I don't think he really means it to sound like Owl, but the way he pronounces "Al" comes out "Owl", and sometimes I mistake his "OW!" for my name and he gets irritated. Anyways. The name came from him. An addition to his famous quotes, and sometimes scenes- he sang Viva Viagra as loudly as he could at the grocery store on Wednesday. Yes, I just let him. The little boy above? Yep, that's him. The other one is me. But I'm on a boat, so my hair is going nuts. My hair + Humidity + Tons of Wind = Oh boy, bad hair day.

So I graduated from highschool as of Friday, May 30th. And as the corny reader's theatre was being presented, complete with the organ music in the background (yes, dinosaurs, your predecessor is still here, she still writes the reader's theatres, and her name is Mrs. Drake), I realized that if I don't want to, I never have to go back to the corridors of Hell ever again. I'm knocking on the desk just to keep myself from being cursed. But yeah, unless I choose to, I never have to revisit my high school ever again! Just for your information, by the way, I graduated to the theme song of Harry Potter. I was crossing my fingers for the organist to play Lord of the Rings again, but that was way back when the Cs had been walking, so I was out of luck. I think the Harry Potter may show up Amy's commencement to the Pink Panther.