Rule #3: Get moving

Recently I have begun to run. And not after ice cream trucks or away from monsters, but just because. A few years ago I never, ever, would have thought I would run just for the sake of running. But I have been. I'm not particularly fast, and the first time I ran (almost) all the way around Lake Merritt (3.5-ish miles) I thought I was going to barf. But I just run in my slow-mannered fashion, listening to Playing For Change or Firewater on my ipod. Sometimes Spike joins me (he only tries to trip me occasionally). I don't always love running. Sometimes I downright hate it (usually halfway around the lake, when I know I have the same distance to go even if I turn around). But I feel good after I do it. Sweaty, smelly, and sore.

One of the perks to dog-ownership is that it forces you to get out of the house. My dogs get bored, and when they got bored, they do things like chew their expensive collars off, or rifle through the bathroom garbage. When we sit at home all day their sad eyes stare at me, pleading, please let us go to the dog park! As a part of this rule, I have made it a goal of mine to take the dogs out at least three times a week (for weekdays).

Jack and Spike LOVE Point Isabel, located in Richmond. Not only is it the largest off-least dog park in the country, it has a cafe that sells food and coffee (drool) and doggy ice cream. I also love it, because I can stroll (my guess is two miles) and get a little bit of exercise. I just have to watch myself and not order a double-chocolate mocha at the Sit n' Stay Cafe (shouldn't be a prob, my love is saved for the latte).

So much for this $25 collar.

Jack at Lake Temiscal in Oakland

At the Albany Bulb

What you lookin' at?

Too bad it's a bird sanctuary

Golden Gate

Mud boots

Ice cream after an outing.

Rule # 2: Try a new recipe every week

My mom is a great cook. That said, I am not. But I'm not terrible either. I have recently begun trying to expand my knowledge of cooking. I have made coconut curry sauce with meatballs, poured over spaghetti squash. And my roommate and I made dog treats (yes, we used a penis-shaped cookie cutter. Don't ask why). It is a new goal of mine (and a new rule) that I will try a new recipe every week.

Today I am working on a chicken vegetable soup. I'm cheating, though, as I'm not following a recipe. I started out sauteing onions, carrots, and celery. I then added herbs de Provance, which my dad recently brought me from France, and garlic paste. Then, and here's the tricky part, I add chicken broth (from a box, I'm not that fancy) and potatoes. Then you simmer the shit out of it. I'm guessing I should add the broccoli, cauliflower, green beans, peppers, and brussels sprouts (I almost wrote "brissles sprouts" which sounds like something very very unfortunate) when the potatoes are smushy-ish. As you can see, it is a science.

Spike and Jack like floor vegetables

Veggies! And a cluttered counter!

Cheating with pre-made chicken.

Simmer the shizz outta it.

I made this too. And ate almost all of it before the soup was done. Yum beets.

I needed a caffeine buzz, so my boyfriend got me a latte.

Spike and my dirty floor.

My kitchen rocks.

Too much cabbage?

Give me soup!

Can I eat the camera?

Rule # 1: If you see a taco truck (that you haven't tried yet), try it!

Rule #1
Of course, Rule # 1 has to be an important one. After all, it's the first goal I thought of, when examining my life.

So here it is:  
If you see a taco truck (that you haven't tried yet), try it!

Deep, I know.

I am a firm believer in the power of tacos. With the right ratio of spice, grease, and radishes, the experience can change your life. Because I live in east Oakland, where taco trucks are plentiful, I take this rule to heart. I know, for instance, that Zamorano is the best (and oldest in Oakland) in the vicinity of my house, and that El Gordo is nowhere near as good, but that it is much much much better than Casa Jiminez, which is awful.

Also, try new kind of tacos. You may love cow head, or tongue. My favorite is the pastor, and I always load up on the grilled onions ana jalapenos, and the pickled carrots. Some days, the only reason I leave the house is to venture down High Street to Zamorano.

If you're in my hood, try a taco crawl. I have done this twice, starting at Zamorano on the corner of High and International. Grab a taco, scarf it down, then head up International (towards downtown Oakland) and stop at any taco trucks or taquerias that look enticing. When I've done this, I could only fit 4 tacos into my tummy, but they're cheap, easy, and fun (there's a joke about prostitutes in there somewhere).

Casa Jimines has dry tacos

Love at the corner of High and International

Not a truck, but darn tasty

Baby Steps

You've heard them. Those people—those friends, even—who do nothing but rag on how lame, boring, and stale their live are. I admit it. I too, have had those thoughts. But when I start to feel bad about whatever situation I find myself in I think, you know what, I am in charge of all of this!

And you may think, well, not all of it...and you're correct. I still need to pay my car loan and I really do enjoy having hot water and electricity, so I pay those, too. But I have more control over my own life than I realize. We all do.

I recently discovered, quite by accident, Chris Guillebeau's website The Art of Nonconformity, which advocates doing what you want to do, living life on your own terms. While I enjoy my day job (I get to bring my dogs to work, we have a dart board, I listen to awesome music while working, my hours are flexible), I still have my off-days. I still sometimes struggle with feeling like I should be doing more.

So what I have decided to do is make a list of all of the things I have wanted to do, but have either thought that I will get to them later, or that they're not worth focusing on. In the links to the right you can find my lists of goals, and I will update them and list my progress.

That's it for now...baby steps. More to come soon. Until then, enjoy this random image I will choose from my photos.

Halloween Dog Costume Contest at Point Isabelle

On Saturday I, along with my boyfriend and my roommate, took our four dogs to Pt. Isabele for a leisurely dog walk. Because we're all weirdos, we dressed the pooches in their costumes, positive that we would be classified as some of those people. You know, the people who dress their dogs up, and call their dogs their children. I pretty much know I will always be one of those people, as my dogs have more bandanas than a flamboyant cowboy and because I have doggy health insurance. Anywhooo, we were prepared for a hilarious outing.

Husky husky and Business casual

Spike got a lot of attention for his two-headed-husky costume, and, while Jack got fewer comments on his business-dog getup, I think he looked dashing. Penny was her grumpy self but endured her ladybug costume. And Aviv...he was the funniest damn chicken.

Diggin' Penny and Jack's ass

After our walk we noticed a big group of...those people. Dogs were dressed as fairies, pirates, monsters, gypsies, and jailbirds. We had stumbled upon a pet costume contest.

While those people had planned to dress up their dogs for a contest, we did it just for kicks, which I guess made us more those peopleish than anyone else. While none of our dogs won the contest (the judges didn't see the irony of a husky dressing up as a husky), we got good bags, and plenty of great pictures.

Dog Emergency Kit

Wish I'd Joined Sooner

                                               

I have recently discovered, to my utter joy, the Travel Hacking Cartel. Though I have been able to travel fairly cheaply in the past—by merely trolling sites like Kayak, looking for the cheapest flights to...well...anywhere—this site will help me rack up airline miles  for even cheaper airfare.

I have my sights on Botswana and Panama (ideally, everywhere else, but I try to keep my goals focused.)



And there's another neat thing about this site: you can get miles by referring people to the site (see where I'm going?). How you do this is by sharing your referral link (like mine: http://travelhacking.org/megameg-wants-you ) with your friends, family, and shamelessly posting it on your blog. :) Then after those people sign up, they can repeat the process. Win-Win-Win...until forever.

Roadtrip with dogs; conception

Growing up, my family didn't have much money. While we were never able to take family trips to France or the Bahamas, we my parents made sure my brother and I got to go on vacation.

when I was young (5 or 6 if my memory is correct), we drove to the Grand Canyon. I remember attending a kids' question-and-answer session with a park ranger, and I asked "how many people fall over the edge each year?" I was completely confused with the answer they gave which was: "Four and a half." Can you really expect any kid to know averages? I imagined four people falling to their deaths, and assumed that the half-person must either be a child or a little person.

In addition to our camping trips, my dad took my brother and I on a few long road trips. My dad had to attend a game convention, Gen Con, in Milwaukee, and so we planned to have at least 5 days to get from California to Milwaukee, where we would spend 4 days at the convention, and then take our time driving back. The first time I took this trip I was, I think, 12 years old, and my brother was 15. In Wyoming my dad pulled off the road and let my brother and I take turns driving. In South Dakota we visited the martian terrain of the Badlands. And we saw lots and lots of corn. Since that first trip, I have taken 2 more, but the last time I did a big road trip to the game convention was when I was 16 and it was just my dad and I.

This last trip was eventful. I had just gotten my learners' permit, and my dad had no objection to me learning how to drive while on a 3,000 mile journey. We estimate that I drove 1,000 miles. I learned that true terror is driving in a rainstorm in South Dakota, driving among semi-trucks and Sturgis bikers. The car we were driving was a 1986 blue Chevy blazer, that had no radio or air conditioning and had a slow leak in one tire. We hit a bird—or the bird hit us—either way our windshield was streaked with blood. I came home from that trip as a vegetarian (I have since converted back to the meat-eating lifestyle).

And now, ten years since that last big road trip, I will begin to plan my next road trip. We will have the same destination, Gen Con, but I am planning on sharing my journey with my two Malamute/Siberian mixes (Jack and Spike), and my boyfriend. Road trip summer of 2013, here I come.

Spike!

Jack!

Dogs in Hats (and/or bandanas)

The Boys