This past weekend I ran a photobooth at our 10th annual Bark in the Park, an annual fundraiser that benefits the local no-kill animal shelter. It was my second year being invited. I remember thinking last year that all the good karma would surely boost my chances of getting pregnant. This year it didn't even cross my mind. Good karma or no, it didn't happen before and I can't help but think it's not going to happen again. I spent the first 2 or so hours at the event battling ovulation pains. Yay! Not. When they finally relented I started having fun. The day goes like this, smile at the people, smile at the dog, wait for tail wag, squat and love on the dog while making small talk with its person, stand up, arrange people and pets, squat again to take pictures, stand, take money, hand out flyer, mentally fuss at the dog who just marked my tablecloth, assure dog's owner that its no biggie, repeat at least 20 times during the 5 hour event. I loved meeting everyone's furbabies. My favorites of the day were the great danes, irish wolfhounds, and a beautiful wolf/malamute mix. I was happy to see several of my customers from last year come back to my booth again. Repeat customers are always the ultimate compliment. Last year we made $100 for the shelter this year its looking like $160 though I haven't got all the numbers in yet. My poor tablecloth absolutely reeked by the end of the day. Could barely hold it long enough to get it in the wash. Shew! And of course I let myself get dehydrated. Bleck. Of course I woke up the next day with screeching thigh muscles. I am so disappointed in those muscles. I thought for sure with all the gym days and weight lifting especially on the thigh machine, that it wouldn't happen this year. No such luck.
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| This little furbaby is waiting for someone to bring him to his forever home. Err...maybe it was a her. |
Odd little thought that morning I was awakened by a vibration on my hip. Sleepy as I was I immediately swooped my hand down into my imaginary pocket looking for my phone. Yeah, no pocket, no phone. I started to drift back off to sleep when it happened again. This time I sat all the way up, threw back the covers, and looked around the bed. Nothing. I sat there warily for a few minutes. It didn't happen again and I fell back asleep. But how weird was that.
Anyways also during the weekend I was added to highschool reunion group on facebook. Of course one of the first three posts is asking how many of us have kids. Ick. A glutton for punishment I perused the list. I expected most of my classmates to have one maybe two kids. Nu-uh. More than a dozen have 5 kids. Several have 7. Seven kids. We've only been graduated for eight years. They've pretty much literally popped one out every single year. Wth, man! I can't help but feel even more left behind than I did before. Which is stupid. Why do I care how many kids so and so that I haven't seen or talked to in eight years has. Really. Course I think I took more offense to the post from the popular kids apologising for their behavior in school. It's so easy for them to apologise and so hard for the people that took the abuse to move past it. They go on about how life experiences made them mature and grow up and look at things in a new perspective. Yeah, I didn't need life experiences or more maturity to know that you shouldn't treat others that way, and I bet if they were honest with themselves they knew what they were doing was wrong when they were doing. The apology feels like such a cop out. End rant.
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