Remy was back at the vet’s office this past weekend… poor pooch. She’s been licking her wee wee for several months now. I know, I shouldn’t be such a damn neglectful parent. Honestly, I expected the irritation to heal on its own. But when I checked the sensitive region on Friday, I saw the area was all black and nasty and she had three lesions. Bubbey was his usual queasy-ass self—he couldn’t even look.

So long story short, the vet squeezed us in on Saturday morning. Reading through my books, I suspected Rem had vaginitis, but the doctor said it was a para-vaginal infection. He said the condition is common in overweight dogs, which Remy is not. But basically bacteria get in there and proliferate when there’s a lot of moisture. Anatomically, Remy’s built such that the area just doesn’t air out well, so when she urinates or licks, it doesn’t dry. Her dense fur especially around the rump doesn’t help either. So the first line of treatment is easy: oral antibiotics plus topical cream. If that doesn’t work, a vaginal “facelift” is in order. Ugh. It sounds too much like FGM (female genital mutilation). I’ll pat her area dry by hand every day if that’s what I have to do. Surgery sounds far too extreme.

Luckily, when I checked her today, the skin had already cleared up considerably. I’m doubly glad, because I’m on my way to San Diego to meet up with Nathalie for a few days. And with John in charge, the maintenance has to be as low as possible. I already told him he has to get over his willies and just go in there to slop on the cream. John refused to demo while I was home, so I’ll just have to trust that he’ll do it. I left him a bunch of q-tips. Silly wuss.

Other than that, Rems is well. She and Martin are shedding like crazy now that winter is coming on. Two weekends ago, the dogs woke us up in the middle of the night after they heard all this clamoring in the yard. All of us went out on the deck and a staredown ensued between Martin and a pair of adult raccoons. Big fearless critters. They didn’t even flinch. I got worried and ordered everyone back inside. I think the dogs were a bit scared too, because they didn’t bark or growl. They were quiet yet alert and cautious.

The following day on my ranger ride-along, I learned that raccoons are extremely intelligent. Not only that, they have opposable thumbs and are ultra dexterous. Wtf? Apparently, backpackers and campers are always complaining to the rangers about raccoons getting into their stashed/secured/hidden foods. Somehow the coons always manage to lift, twist, push, and seize the goodies. Animals. They really are amazing.

In other news, the job continues to kick. Boss is out on a four-week vacation, and I’m so fricking conditioned, I keep expecting him to call me from Thailand.

I’m enjoying my current projects though. I finally settled on an email list service and now I’m tweaking some templates for an e-newsletter. We’re also planning to launch an online store before the holidays. I had a minor issue last week with the vendor… The VP of Ops, an old scraggly grinch, copped an attitude. Not sure if it was because I was new or if the project had just lagged for far too long, but that was fun to handle. Thankfully, my boss had my back and with some strategic comments from our web consultant, the client-contractor dialog was put back into the proper place. My web consultant rocks btw. I think we may even become friends outside of work. How cool is that?

Speaking of friends, it’s amazing how much a low-stress job boosts quality of life. I’ve made a new buddy at work. Tina is also from San Mateo and she started on the same day as I. We totally click and it’s great, because now she’s my carpool buddy. And we’re taking the place up by storm. Ok, not really but we’re signing up for all kinds of activities together—rollerblading, the upcoming GreenFestivals, and rockclimbing. John is thrilled, because now he can finally have some peace for his own “self care” activities.

His primary me time activity? TV. And he just got an Onkyo sound system this weekend, so it’s 24-7 HD football, HBO, and Nat Geo. Surprisingly, John’s really getting into the nature shows, and I have a feeling I have a budding naturalist in the house. He’s always telling me about pythons and gators and their brute force of xyz psi. Then on Sunday, he dragged me hiking in Purisima Creek. From the get go, I tried to manage expectations: 1.5 hours and that’s it. Well guess what? We were on the fucking trail for 3+ hours. Up and down, up and down. He took me on a brutal hike, and today I am the sorest I’ve been in a long time, and that’s counting riding and skating. “The Ridge Trail Cruzathon was no fluke,” he kept saying. Sigh. Someone please help me.

Well I’m psyched about my short little trip to San Diego. I certainly have a knack for entering danger zones. First, John and I were in Thailand during the tsunami. Then we were in L.A. during the landslides. Then we flew into Miami days after Hurricane Rita. Now I’m flying into San Diego after a quarter million people evacuated their homes in northern SD County due to fires. I don’t know why I keep pressing my luck.

Sheesh, who knew my work with Big Blue would ever pick up again? Seriously, in the last year since I’ve been back, I’ve done maybe 2-3 hours of recording every 2-3 months. Nothing major. But now? Hell, the client LOVES my voice, or so my project manager proclaims. This past week alone, I’ve logged in nearly 10 hours of recording. I’m recording so much my FTP site is maxed out and my voice is sore. But the best news is, with the latest currency conversion, I’m making super schweet dough. Hehe, more massages for me!

So that explains my recent silence. That plus activities with work. Last week, as part of my new employee orientation, I went on an all-day ranger ride-along. Yup, Tina (my coworker and new buddy) and I rode all day in a big truck with Jen, a female ranger. We got our butts up at 5:30 in the morning, but we had a grand time. Hit a bunch of preserves that day, and Jen even took us off-roading. I totally underestimated the power of a Ford 4×4. She got that thing up a massive incline. I swore it was like 60 degrees, though my engineering buddies don’t believe it. They insist 45 is max. Whatever, the slope was crazy steep. We fishtailed and everything!

But the ride-along itself was awesome. And the weather was gorgeous. We climbed to the top deck of an observation tower (one of our properties is a former Air Force base) and looked out on the sprawling city of San Jose and all the mountains surrounding. We even lucked out and caught two golden eagles on top of the mountain. I’ll try to get some pictures from Tina’s cam.

So since our agency owns 55,000+ acres, all newbies actually have to attend two ranger ride-alongs. Tomorrow is my second one. And we’ll spend all day hitting the preserves on the northern part of the peninsula. We’ve gotten a good bit of rain the last week, so I just hope we stay warm and dry.

In other news, I rode an ex-Western show horse last week at lesson. Hobbs was fuckin’ kickass gorgeous. A huge, handsome chestnut horse. But my god, he was a total bitch to ride. Stubborn as hell, and boy did he make me kick. I kicked so much I thought my legs were going to fall off. Every time he finally got up to speed, the instructor had me slow him to a walk again and then he’d take for frickin’ ever to get back up to a jog. The entire lesson was like hot/cold/hot/cold. And shit, once he got running, he gave me a goddamn beatdown. My boots fell out of the stirrups, and I was flailing around out of control. It took all the energy in the world for me to clamp my legs around his big barrel of a body so I wouldn’t fall right out of the damn saddle. The whole time I kept hearing my father exclaiming, “Christopher Reeves, Christopher Reeves.” Shit. And I thought I was ready for group lessons. Hobbs put me in my place. Looks like I have another four or so more lessons (the instructor diplomatically explained that it’s just a matter of getting in my “saddle time”) before I can join the group. Bummer. I want so badly to ride like a cowgirl!! Full speed ahead with my lasso! Ah well, there’s always next year for New Year’s resolutions.

Just a quickie: the other day I got a comment from Megan inquiring about importing pets to Shanghai. I stopped updating Starpups a long, long time ago (July 2006), but I would advise anyone seeking more information about pet relocation to visit Second Chance Animal Aid, a charity based in Shanghai. Additionally, this article on pet quarantine may be helpful, but again, since the regs change so frequently, call around for the latest and greatest. Good luck!

I am so done with the activity groups. I know, I shared my disappointment before, but that was a year ago. Surely, things should have changed since then, right? Nope. I was so stoked about this upcoming rock climbing class offered through San Mateo Parks and Rec. Class was slated to start Monday. Yesterday, I got my check returned in the mail: class is canceled. Fuck. Now I’ll have to fork over double the price to take it directly through the gym. Sucks. But yes, not the end of the world.

Second recent disappointment? I was so excited about the Wednesday skate night at Stanford. Checked it out with a friend last week. The description says ALL levels, but shit, when we showed up, the peeps had racing skates on. To make matters worse, as we waited, a few guys went for a few laps around the parking lot. Holy shit. Blazing fast. I just wanted to do an informal, fun skate night. I wasn’t looking to eat the dust of Apollo Ono and company. Fucking A. My bud and I just went off on our own and skated. Screw that.

Near the end of the night, we got into a minor collision. I fell on top of her after both of us found ourselves face to face with a dude on a bike. We didn’t know who was going where, and then both of us lost our balance and fell right in front of him. What did he do? He swerved around, looked back at our mound, muttered something, and rode off. Inconsiderate, elitist bastard! Seriously, would a short little, “Are you okay?” have killed him? What a total dick.

I am happy to report that my turbulent relationship with OS X has finally ended. You see, about one year ago, the home network/systems administrator (Bubs) coerced me into switching to Mac. Better hardware (I would still agree on that one), more user friendly interface, no viruses, no hangups, blah, blah, blah. I was reluctant and skeptical, but what choice did I have? Windows would no longer be a supported platform on our home network, and unfortunately, my beloved Vaio was rattling like a mofo.

So fine. Did the switch. The first MacBook Pro had a bad CD drive. I went through hell with the Burlingame Apple store to get a replacement laptop. Then I faced a horrible reality check when I realized I could not translate many of the advanced keyboard shortcuts to OS X. I know, everyone says you just replace the Ctrl key with the squiggle. Duh. I’m not talking basic shortcuts here. Ctrl-C, Ctrl-V, rudimentary shit. I’m talking alt-F-C-A, automatic column width level shit. I searched books far and wide. Finally, I found some crazy list, but it still just isn’t the same. And keyboard shortcuts were really the least of my concerns. I couldn’t get into my office VPN. Yes, I tried the connect to server function. My programs froze (I swear they did, but Macophiles are so much in denial, I should have videotaped it as proof), my entourage hung, before Picasa came out with the Mac Uploader, I couldn’t upload images to my blog. iPhoto is the crappiest excuse for a photo program, especially compared to Picasa. What the hell is that bullshit events category? Ugh. I don’t even want to get into it. Anyway, after a year of battling with my computer, I finally blasted OS X to smithereens. Yup. Forget Parallels. I’m back to XP Pro and boy am I happy. It’s fuckin’ awesome. And my efficiency level is back up to top speed.

I will have to say, kudos for the Bootcamp drivers for Windows. So thankful to have all the drivers accessible in one place. Also, InputRemapper kicks ass. I can adjust fan speeds, tweak the keyboard backlight, reposition my Ctrl and alt keys… And like I said, the MBP has solid hardware, so my ops are running super fast. Schweet!

I am happy to report that my turbulent relationship with OS X has finally ended. You see, about one year ago, the home network/systems administrator (Bubs) coerced me into switching to Mac. Better hardware (I would still agree on that one), more user friendly interface, no viruses, no hangups, blah, blah, blah. I was reluctant and skeptical, but what choice did I have? Windows would no longer be a supported platform on our home network, and unfortunately, my beloved Vaio was rattling like a mofo.

So fine. Did the switch. The first MacBook Pro had a bad CD drive. I went through hell with the Burlingame Apple store to get a replacement laptop. Then I faced a horrible reality check when I realized I could not translate many of the advanced keyboard shortcuts to OS X. I know, everyone says you just replace the Ctrl key with the squiggle. Duh. I’m not talking basic shortcuts here. Ctrl-C, Ctrl-V, rudimentary shit. I’m talking alt-F-C-A, automatic column width level shit. I searched books far and wide. Finally, I found some crazy list, but it still just isn’t the same. And keyboard shortcuts were really the least of my concerns. I couldn’t get into my office VPN. Yes, I tried the connect to server function. My programs froze (I swear they did, but Macophiles are so much in denial, I should have videotaped it as proof), my entourage hung, before Picasa came out with the Mac Uploader, I couldn’t upload images to my blog. iPhoto is the crappiest excuse for a photo program, especially compared to Picasa. What the hell is that bullshit events category? Ugh. I don’t even want to get into it. Anyway, after a year of battling with my computer, I finally blasted OS X to smithereens. Yup. Forget Parallels. I’m back to XP Pro and boy am I happy. It’s fuckin’ awesome. And my efficiency level is back up to top speed.

I will have to say, kudos for the Bootcamp drivers for Windows. So thankful to have all the drivers accessible in one place. Also, InputRemapper kicks ass. I can adjust fan speeds, tweak the keyboard backlight, reposition my Ctrl and alt keys… And like I said, the MBP has solid hardware, so my ops are running super fast. Schweet!

Whew that was a busy weekend! On Friday night, John and I headed into the city for dinner and a 10pm show at Cobb’s Comedy Club. Yes, the late show really was a far stretch for us, but we figured that would give us plenty of time to drive up 101 and then grab a nice, relaxed dinner. We hit John’s usual downtown fave Houstons. The bastards told us the wait would be 25-35 minutes. Ended up being 90 minutes AND the hostess seated the wrong party before us. By the time we sat down, we were beyond pissy, and we were all about making up for lost time. Fortunately, the place redeemed itself somewhat. We were seated at 8:30, food came out at 8:40, and then we were done by 9. Yup, we ate dinner at Houston’s like we were going through the drive-in at In-N-Out. Bubbey style. Whatever man, that’s the way it ought to be. In and out.

The comedy show that evening was Joe Rogan doing stand up. Yeah, the dude from Fear Factor. And apparently now he’s the announcer for ultimate fighting or whatever. The guy was decent but my god, did he ramble at the end. There was this weird Q&A session after his run that lasted for fucking ever. I don’t really give a shit about his thoughts on Mencia and Scientology and blah, blah. Who the hell cares? I just want the funny bits. This wasn’t a frickin’ “get to know you” session. Irritating. And he was on something because the dude was wired. Then again, the people behind us in line were smoking up too. Stunk up my air and burned my nose hairs. Nights like that really get me thinking: I’m not made for the city. Get me back to my boring, manicured, sheltered suburbs.

On Saturday, we got our asses up at the crack of dawn to participate in the Bay Area Ridge Trail Cruzathon, co-sponsored by my peeps. Originally, I had planned for us to walk the 8-mile hike at a leisurely pace. Unfortunately, there was this elderly couple (with their walking poles) who booked ass the entire fucking time. And well naturally, John and I felt threatened or something. Our competitive bug kicked into high gear, and we refused to eat the dust of senior citizens. I’m telling you, grandma was tiny too! She was like a lil’ Nancy Reagan crossed with Noorie James (nickname for my maternal grandmother). But Jesus Christ, she was a fighter. Tough as nails. And we were huffing and puffing trying to keep pace. She was so hardcore. Her old man stopped off to take a piss, and she didn’t even wait for him. Later, he commented on the beauty of these moss-colored rocks, and she didn’t even turn her head. She was on such an intense mission, I thought for sure she had to get to the port-a-pot or something. And I’m a fast walker even! Well anyway, we came in second and third, not that it was a race or anything. And John actually insists that he was first, but out of politeness he didn’t want to overtake Nancy (even though he could have) on the homestretch. Whatever. All I know is, we could have done another four miles after lunch, but we packed up and schlepped our tired asses home. All in all, we did eight miles in less than three hours. Doesn’t sound impressive but there was a lot of uphill action. We must have burned like 1500 calories, or so Bub says. I’m just happy we finished top three. Not too shabby for out-of-shape geezers like us.

Obviously, Sunday was a bust. We were both too sore for anything. Unfortunately, my masseuse was booked through Thursday. Sigh. Oh well.

Save for the Sunday day of rest, I think we’re ready to kick things up a notch. I just registered for a rock climbing class (4 weeks) at an indoor climbing gym. That starts next Monday. Tuesdays are riding, and Wednesday I’m going to check out the inline skate night at Stanford. Absolutely cannot wait.

Sure is awesome getting out of work by 5:30 everyday. I’m digging life right about now.

A few weeks ago, I shared with you my Glassy Eyes discovery. That finding then sparked the longest week of eyeglass research. I was printing out frames, cutting them out, holding them against my face. I freaking pulled out the marker and measured my PD (pupil distance) in front of the mirror. Yes, when I latch onto something, I take it and run. After my sixth measurement, I finally took the plunge: it was time to replace my purple DKNY eyeglasses circa 2000.

Long story short, I finally settled on these frames. Yeah, figured I’d try really hard to get what’s in: thick, plastic frames. When I showed the picture to Bubs, he was very skeptical. In fact, he had a whole list of qualms– mostly he didn’t like the idea of me measuring my own PD. I told you he’s deluxe. He’s all about getting the professionals to do it. No DIY with him.

But whatever. The glasses cost a mere $35 compared to my $250 Donna Karans. How bad could they possibly be, right? Well three weeks later, I have my new glasses. I won’t post any pictures of me wearing them, but let’s just say Bubbey’s got a new name for me now: Bubbles (from Trailer Park Boys).

Ok, so I must apologize for inundating your RSS reader with all 675+ Goodbers postings. I’m trying something new. You see, I spent most of the afternoon at work today reading about web stats and analytics. Turns out much of the usual collected web data is useless, inaccurate, and just plain bogus. Yeah, what a drag, because I was following the number of hits on my blog all too closely. All my tracking OCD was a total waste of time apparently.

So anyway, I came across some dude’s website: Occam’s Razor. He seems to know what he’s writing about, so I watched a couple of his talks. Former web stat expert at Intuit. He’s quite the guru. (Truthfully, I just like that he donates all the proceeds from his book to charity.) Well ok, he did have some insights. And now, I’m following his recommendation to use Google Analytics. Time for some personal research.

So this evening I set up an account with Google Analytics. I inserted some special code into my templates; hence, the entire republishing of my site. Sorry about that. Actually, I’m not sorry. You should visit my site via your browser bookmark anyway, because you know what? The freaking RSS readers cut out some cool additional features, like my cute picture slide shows, my yelp column, and interesting commenter postings? Exactly. You want to be in completely in the loop, don’t you? Might as well make Goodbers your homepage. What the heck.

I just wrapped week 1 at the new job, and I think I could get used to this easy-going, low-pressure work environment. Yes, to be honest, I was a bit antsy, but whatever, I’m going to just deal with my OCD and sit back and chill. The good news is, I’m slowly rebuilding my life. Had my second riding lesson on Tuesday. Amigo had a smooth walk, but he wasn’t nearly as responsive as my previous horse Buck. I’m a little impatient that my ass still slams up and down during the jogging, but as my instructor explained, it was only my second lesson. All in good time.

In other news, it’s been a quiet week for me. Bubs is on travel in Toronto. He was supposed to return this morning, but the project ran over. He’ll be back Monday night. In the meantime, I’m trying to stay busy, but I did get pretty lazy about cooking for one. I pretty much did the pasta/frozen food diet this week. I’m in the mood for sushi today. Or maybe I’ll grab some pho.

Last night, I caught up with my former coworkers Joe and Dave. That was fun. We got into this whole discussion about friendships with the opposite sex and whether they really can be platonic between heterosexuals. My feeling is you love who you love– whether that person be the same sex or the opposite sex. Similarly, with friendship, you connect with who you connect with: either things click or they don’t. Sex seems pretty irrelevant. I mean, just because I’m heterosexual doesn’t mean I want to jump every guy out there. Perhaps I am atypically asexual? I don’t know. People seem to over complicate relationships. Maybe the problem is that people just don’t know their bounds, or they don’t trust that they’ll behave appropriately (yes, there still are limits). And I suppose, given the frequency and high stats on infidelity, maybe that’s a legitimate worry. But at some point in a committed romantic relationship, I would hope there is enough trust, confidence, and security that friendships aren’t considered threats or temptations. I’m not trying to be preachy: John and I have certainly had our share of issues… but in the end, for me, it’s about trusting John and trusting myself. Love is irrational sometimes, but fear is paralyzing.

Anyway, food for thought. I just bring it up because my friend Joe is somewhat traditional. Months ago, John said he didn’t want to see Les Mis the day after seeing Beauty and the Beast. I definitely was not going to miss out on Les Mis, so I invited my flaky friend Yovanni. She took forever to confirm, so when I told Joe at work about the show, he shared my excitement, and I invited him to join me. Then he had this whole thing where he would only go on the condition that John would go. Or that beforehand, he had to meet John for a sort of hand-off, as he termed it.

I found his condition or attention to etiquette (for lack of a better term) rather ridiculous. I mean, I’m an independent person. I invited a friend to see a play. That friend happens to be male. What’s the hand-off about? Am I supposed to get permission to go out with a friend? Is John my gatekeeper? See, this is how I read all of this. And to be honest, I was a bit insulted. Like there was some inappropriateness or cloudiness that required clarification. It’s not as if I didn’t tell John I invited Joe… anyway, that was what triggered everything. Now to come clean, John did admit that he found the idea of me going to the play with Joe somewhat odd, but not enough to ask me not to go… In the end, it all worked out. Flaky friend turned up and all four of us went and had a good time.