Moz in Ruff

Moz sporting his post-operational fashion

Apparently Moz has been crooning again.

When Roland and I came back from our stroll with Moz after dinner, our downstairs neighbor said, "Oh. Hello. Aren't you the little howler?" He said it in a nice voice  (and he said it to the dog, of course) but I was not sure if there was a bit of annoyance in his tone.

Of course, I expected Moz to have a little separation anxiety for the first few weeks he was with us, but I was kind of worried when I was told that he howls as soon as we leave for an hour or more.

I know I am being petty and perhaps biased when I say our neighbor's Yorkie barks a lot more than Moz probably howls and we at least take him for walks.

Suddenly, our part of our complex has been quite loud with small dogs. Our other downstairs neighbor has two small dogs and then next door we also have two Daschsunds who bark quite a bit.

All this barking and howling has made one of our elderly neighbors quite upset. So upset she notiified our Home Owners Association and filed a complaint. All our surrounding neighbors with dogs received a letter notifying them that if their dogs bark too much they will be fined. If it continues after being fined, a lien may be placed on their property and they will have to move out!

As of yet, we have not received such a letter.

I am hoping we don't get this dreaded letter. If we don't I am sure our neighbor's downstairs (The Yorkies) will be upset.

Since we did not get the letter perhaps we need not worry about Moz (the dog) and his howling.

Hopefully this is what Moz does while we are not home

Moz (the human)
I am very pleased to announce that I was able to purchase tickets to Morrissey's birthday gig in San Diego! Sadly, I will not be able to sing Happy Birthday whilst starring into his deep blue eyes from the front row.

Purchasing tickets was rather frustrating and I don't want to bore you with the details but suffice it to say that I ended up having to register at least three different credit/debit cards on Ticketmaster for various reasons and by the time I actually completed a transaction, there were only terrace seats available (nosebleed again).

Couldn't I have gotten just a little bit closer? Even one section closer?

I will have to fight my way somehow to the front. I may have to employ the efforts of Krystal aka @Its_Only_Me_K from Twitter. We were hoping to meet up.

Roland will be going, but you must understand that my husband is A Rule Follower!! He will not do anything like try to get closer to the stage to see Morrissey with me because it would most likely be against some rules about seats and tickets, etc.

I'll just have to tell him that I am going to get a drink or go to the loo  and then bulldoze my way through the crowd.

Luckily, he does not read my blog so he may not discover my plan. He may not know he is going to see Morrissey on his own for a portion of the concert.

Unlike my Roland, I enjoy breaking rules!!

And Now My Lung is Full

Pool

I write to you as a survivor. Yes, indeed. I survived not one, not two, but three days swimming as part of the masters (older folk) program for Oliver's swim team!

You can't really imagine what swimming is REALLY like until you actually do it. You can watch all the old video footage of the likes of Mark Spitz and Michael Phelps, and they are so graceful in the water, you think, That looks like fun! But the reality is far different, my friend.

The first question I was asked when I arrived was, "Did you swim in high school?" And the answer is no. I had to make a choice, drama or sports. I obviously chose drama but had I decided to take up a sport, it would have been swimming.

The person who asked me that quesion was Coach Ben who is probably about twenty-two years old. Nice guy who shows up at 5:45 AM four days a week to dish out a workout for people who are, in general, two to three times his age.

I had to assure him that while I did not swim in high school, I can make it across the pool without dying. And in all honesty, that's what I FELT. I have not swum in a big pool for over twenty years. So how would I know?

After I swam the first 50 yards (up and back), I honestly did not KNOW if I was going to make it. I worried a bit about the embarrassment if they had to call an ambulance after I keeled over in my lane, floating face down in the water. Or just as horrifying, they would have to administer CPR. Imagine how awful it would be to be typing my blog from a hospital bed!

The reasons it was so difficult was: a) breathing, b) sheer repetition of movement for a long time, c) my lack of stamina.

Honestly, never underestimate the importance of oxygen. For whatever reasons, there were moments when I became anxious or nervous and felt unbearably desperate for air. It seems so simple to just lift your head up and breathe, but sometimes it just isn't enough. I reached points during my workouts when I just thought that I could never have enough air.

I also imagined that my lung fell out and I kept swimming, because that's what it felt like.

While swimming with good swimmers, I came to realize how very weak I am physically. I realized how much work I need to do to build strength. My arms were so tired from repeatedly moving them in the same direction. My legs felt a bit like jelly the first day.

Perhaps the most humiliating thing was not being able to lift myself out of the pool. I had to swim under the tarp to get to the step ladder.

So you are probably wondering why I continued with it after the first day.

I saw progress. Laughable, silly progress. The first day, I struggled completing 25 yards. The second day I struggled after doing 50s. Today, I was able to do 75s and after 5 seconds complete the last 25 yards to make a 100.

The other thing is that I actually love the water. I love the feel of getting in the water. I love the feel of moving through the water. The blueness and stillness of the water early in the morning attracts me. I like the way the water feels on my skin and how bracing it is when I get out of the pool and find relief in the warmth of the hot showers. I like having wet hair and finding comfort in a hot coffee after my work out.

I like working out in the water because you don't get sweaty and smelly.

Each swimmer pretty much had their own lane so there was less stress about how slowly I moved. Nobody paid any attention to what I was doing. I am sure they were thinking I had to be pretty weak to not be able to lift myself out of the pool but I was glad they didn't offer to help me because that would have been more embarrassing!

Another great thing is that Oliver sweetly offered to help me get improve my strokes and more importantly, he and Jovanny (swimming on high school team) knew that I have at least an inkling of what they endure. I jokingly offered the suggestion to the swim team that participating in the masters should be a prerequisite for the team parents. Just so they know what it feels like. Although I was joking, I like the idea.

The only thing negative about my experience is that I have to start all over again in the summer because whatever progress I made will be difficult to regain.

Moz the Dog
Moz (the dog) is resting as I write this, recovering from his surgery (neutering). Poor baby.

Morrissey the Human
Morrissey tickets for the San Diego show go on sale tomorrow. I am kind of anxious about getting them. I just want to get them in case they sell out and I want better seats than last time.

He has added a date in Bakersfield as well but I just don't think I could deal with the drive in May. Just too busy.

He is also playing a date in Turkey in July.

Morrissey-Loving Ghost?
A strange thing happened earlier today. After texting a friend, I folded a towel and as I was stacking it in the cabinet I heard music. At first I thought Jovanny had left music on but when I listened I could hear Morrissey's voice down the hallway. I followed it and discovered the source was my phone. It had randomly gone to Pandora and to a song by The Smiths. It was very odd.

Jovanny is convinced  we have a Morrissey-loving ghost.

Swimming

Oliver at a recent swim meet

I begin a new adventure tomorrow morning-swimming.

Yeah. I know you are probably thinking that it's no big deal. But I have been somewhat forcing my son, Oliver, to swim on a swim team for almost a year now.

You may be thinking that I am a horrible, silly woman. And you may very well be right!

Because Oliver does not always like going, I told him that I should swim so that its more fair and so that I understand what he is going through. And I stand by those words. I want to make sure what that what I am requiring from him is something I can relate to.

At 5:45 AM I shall be swimming in a pool with some other people my age as part of the masters program on Oliver's team. I get to do this all week since we do not have school all week due to our Spring Break.

After seeing Harold and Maude a few weeks ago, I feel like I should enter the pool in the same manner as Harold's mother-see below. I just need a swim cap like hers!

I read in Mozipedia that Morrissey likes swimming. Kind of hard to imagine, but true.

Speaking of Morrissey, he is supposed to be playing a concert in San Diego in May. It said on his website, True to You, that tickets would be available immediately and so far I have seen nothing. I keep searching though. I even went so far as to book a room for us at the hotel where he is playing. Hopefully, news of ticket sales will materialize soon.

He also added some dates in Italy for July. If only . . .

Moz, the dog is doing well. He has had his shots and has stopped trying to hump the cat. We had to change is "operation" (neutering) date from the 27th to this Wednesday simply because we are off work and it just makes more sense to be able to be around when he is recovering.

I hope to write a few more times this week as I have a little more time.

In the wee hours think of me fondly, not quite suffering.

Black Cloud

Morrissey clutching our "sign"

I may have stated this before but, I like to write this blog at least once a week. Well, I skipped last week. It was actually kind of hard NOT to write. I did not write because I had 160 essays to grade.

The grading wasn't hard. It was just the time it takes to do it. It's not like I don't have three kids, a cat, a new dog and a relationship with my husband to manage. (Not sure "manage" is the right term). So, as difficult as it was, I had to muster up the enthusiasm to complete them. I am proud to say I was successful.

But just when our joy is at its zenith, when all is right with the world, the unthinkable happens. The black cloud descends upon us.

My black cloud came in the form of an evil virus that gave me a sore throat and a terrible case of the flu. It really isn't THAT surprising when you remember the fact that I pretty much work in a petri dish!

On Tuesday we had to administer the mandated California High School Exit Exam-basically, students must pass this state test in order to receive their high school diplomas.  The good thing is we were out by 12:30. The bad thing-I made it until 11:15 and a substitute teacher had to be called in.

It's so disappointing when you have to be sick on a day when you only have to work half of it! I felt kind of ripped off. Cheated.

I ended up having to take 1.5 days off. Which isn't quite the way it sounds . . .

When you have three kids, a dog, a cat and a husband who is also a teacher-a teacher at the same school, no less, just sleeping off the flu is not an option. Its like a living lesson in the British ideology of a "stiff upper lip." You feel like dying but there is no time to die! You must carry on. You must never surrender.

1) Although coughing up phlegm and also having it literally bubble out of your nose, you must still type out detailed lesson plans for the substitute which keep you up until at least 11 PM.
2) Even when your eyes are at half mast, you drive children to school-even with a Niquil hangover.
3) When all you want to do is hurl your tired body into bed and sleep forever, you have to take care of all the things you don't have time to do when you are at work such as making appointments and figuring what in the hell you are going to arrange for your husband's birthday the next day!

The Birthday
I managed to put together a little gathering at our favorite Irish pub-well, favorite pub full stop-The Harp Inn. I emailed and sent out invitations via Facebook to meet up after work on Friday, hoping against hope that I would feel up to the challenge of an evening out.

I managed it okay. By the time I got to the last class of the day, I felt reenergized and happy to have somethng fun to do on a Friday night. I recall feeling that way oh so many years ago.

Roland's birthday gathering at The Harp

So, his birthday ended up being pretty good. I pulled through pretty well, I'd say.

Updates
Moz the dog: Doing well. Adjusting to our home-although he keeps trying to have sex with the cat. Poor Bonnie.

 Moz has a date with destiny (to be neutered) on March 27th. Thereafter, he won't be so keen to have any kind of "relations."

Bonnie will be relieved!

Morrissey the human: The big news is that he appeared on stage with a red rose when he performed in Columbia which is a sign to his Morrisseys World blog readers that the writer of the blog IS really him. (See the picture at the top of this page.)

Speaking of the blog, Morrisseysworld.blogspot.com is up and running again and it has a new chat feature which allows blog readers to discuss in a different forum than Twitter.

His performance in Sao Paolo, Brazil was telecast and is available for viewing. Click below to see it in its entirety.

Morrissey has also added two dates in May for Hawaii, which would be incredible but alas, we cannot afford it.

So, Morrissey has ended his South American tour but resumes touring in Japan in April and later continues through parts of Asia. 

My black cloud has dissipated a little bit.

A Dog Named Moz

Introducing Moz the Dog

I met the loneliest dog in the world. He lived in the house behind ours and crooned mournfully at night. I know we live in California and he's a dog. He has a fur coat. But its been cold. Really cold at night and it just broke my heart to hear him and also to see him from my bedroom window wait all day for attention. Even when people were home, he was left out and just starred in the sliding glass window.

An outsider. A crooner. A lonely heart. Moz.

I finally had it with the sadness and decided to do what PETA suggests which is to offer to walk the dog. His family seemed quite happy to let me walk him-I gave the excuse that I miss walking my dog Maddy, who we lost to cancer over a year ago (which is true).

I took him for a long walk along the Santa Ana riverbed. I did the same walk Maddy and I used to do, however, Maddy was a black lab so Moz (who was formerly Toby) got quite a work out since he is much smaller. My thought was that if I tired him out, he would just sleep and not howl at night. 

I don't know about Moz (Toby), but I was exhausted after that walk. 

When we returned to his home his owner asked me if I wanted him. To be honest, I did not want a dog. Life is simple with a cat and I relished the peace. But I also know that I am a good companion and caretaker to my pets. I did not want to have to listen to him crying or observe his neglect any longer. Yet, I had to discuss this with Roland and the boys, of course.

Miguel was the only one who had an issue. He was attacked by a dog in Mexico four years ago and he tends to avoid dogs no matter the size. But we put forth the argument that this is the best way to get over his fear. 

Miguel is kind of afraid of the cat. Its just animals in general mostly.

Well, I need not burden you with the story much longer. Roland is such a star he agreed to try it out. So we picked up Moz after we went out for my birthday breakfast this afternoon-Sunday. 

We went for vegetarian food at Mother's Market. It was incredibly yummy and filling. 

So far, Moz is doing well. We have him separated from Bonnie, the cat, for now but he seems quite happy.

So much has happened this week regarding the human Morrissey. 

1. A number of people in Twitterdilly Arms watched Morrissey and Kristeen Young perform live in Buenos Aires, Argentina via En Vivo (live stream) together. 

2. Morrissey made another controversial statement regarding the Falkland Islands, basically saying that they belong to Argentina.

3. One of our Twitterdilly friends was quoted out of context in The Sun after the Falkland Islands statement was made.

4. Morrissey was photographed wearing a T-shirt with the words "Immaculate Conception", which was made on Twitter. Originally, it was a tweet posted by MorrisseysWorld and it was "The immaculate infection becomes the immaculate conception." 

5. Kristeen Young (Morrissey's supporting act) tweeted MorrisseysWorld. " Shattering misconceptions takes much longer thn dream & ear drum shattering. Concepts r bastards, esp. when coupled w/"mis"

6. The official Boz Boorer twitter account also tweeted MorrisseysWorld. 

7. Boz was dressed in drag and the guys in the band wore sexy bras on stage at their gig in Rosario, Argentina just after stating on twitter that there was going to be a small surprise at the gig. 

8. Morrissey once again denied being behind MorrisseysWorld blog (that's four times) and stated that it was "dangerous."

I am sure I am leaving something out. And I am merely listing what has occurred. As ever, if you want details of the above go to either http://www.morrisseysworldismoz.blogspot.com/ or http://followingthemozziah.blogspot.com/.

I do not write as much about the controversy over MorrisseysWorld and the debate about whether or not it really is him as others. This is mostly because I don't know as much about it. I believe it is him but am just enjoying the fun part of looking for "signs." I am enjoying the people I am meeting on this  journey. I don't mind if I never "get there."

I do not profess to know Morrissey well (remember he did not marry me-see my profile) but one of the things I love best about him is that he does not fit the mold. I can't imagine him doing much in an orthodox way. I could not nor would not expect the usual approach to anything. 

I wonder if the same can be said about Moz, the dog? 

Rules to Comment By (Bigmouths Strike Again)

I was kind of disturbed a few weeks ago when I read some comments someone made in response to my friend, Mr. Rat's blog, Followingthemozziah.blogspot.com. This person, I believe, unfairly criticized him. Severely criticized him.


The internet is a great place with all its freedoms and anonymity but it can also be an unforgiving and vicious place.


Over a year ago I became Facebook "friends" with a young artist in London who provided knowledge and often video coverage of the protests that were occurring in Iran. He is very talented and I rarely communicated with him, but occasionally I would post something on his wall-usually in support of his photography or poetry.

Once, he posted "Jesus Christ Superstar." Although he was referring to a band he liked by that name, I responded (or tried to respond) with a line that came from the song from the musical "Jesus Christ Superstar." The problem was that I was quite young when the musical was out in the movie theaters and I misquoted the line. The actual line is: "Jesus Christ, Super Star. Do you think you're what you say you are?" 


I posted what I thought were the correct lines from my misquoting eight year old self: "Who in the hell do you think you are?"


Well, this guy thought that I was a crazy religious nut and that I was asking who the hell he thought he was! So he responded by saying something to the effect that I was not nearly as intelligent as he was not fit to lick his boot, so to speak.


I am embarrassed to admit that it hurt my feelings. Not the intelligence part. I thought that it was he who was sensitive about that. He needed to feel intellectually superior. It was the fact that I had no way to explain myself. He blocked me, so I could not apologize-yes, apologize or explain what happened. I just did not want to be misunderstood. I had hoped it was something that could have been laughed at. 


I never even told my husband about it because it upset me and I thought that if I talked about it it would upset me even more. It kind of worked. It does not hurt me in the slightest now-especially since I am pretty much purging right now.


The reason I tell you this tale is just to illustrate the delicate nature of comments-especially comments made online. 


I developed the following rules for myself, but share them with you if you are interested:


1. Never assume how you picture anyone online is how they actually look. Even if they have a photo. We all know that a photo means nothing on the internet. Anyone can be anyone else. Don't be quick to be dismissive of anyone. You might be commenting on the words of a poet (Morrissey) or a fool. You never know.


2. Remember that tone can be hugely difficult to convey in short bursts, or even longer bursts. Don't assume you understand the tone. It may seem sarcastic or full of ridicule, but the person who you are responding to may not have meant it in a harmful way. Assume the best of people when possible.


3. Don't make a comment if you are angry. Wait a day or even a few hours. You may have every  right to tell people to fuck off, but if you give it more time, it will more likely be more effective than if you are too impulsive. Trust me, I thought twice about the Jesus Christ comment, but should have at least looked at the lyrics to the song before posting what I thought it was.


4. Stick to the subject. Go for the jugular. Don't go for the jugular and then the balls and then the intestines, etc. Your comments have more weight and validity if you stay with the topic at hand.


5. Stay above the belt. For example don't ever criticize someone's parenting skills. Trust me. On Friday, I sat outside a courtroom for Jovanny and Miguel's custody review (we are their guardians). I could hear all sorts of things going on with "bad" parents. When you are sitting outside a courtroom and a lawyer starts telling you what you need to do so your kids don't get put up for adoption, its time to assess your life but people are going to criticize you, let's face it. Anything less than that, is up for self-evaluation, especially if you have never even met the person you are criticizing.


6. Be "gentle and kind." Assholes don't get this. So if it is not seemingly effective, do something else besides fiddling with the internet. You have better ways to spend valuable minutes of your life.


I am sure I have forgotten something else important. But you get the general picture. The internet would be a much better place if people thought about what they put out there more often.


Bullies feel safe hiding behind their anonymous facade.


Morrissey Update 
On Friday he played Vina del Mar festival in Chile to a very polite and subdued crowd. But he looked happy. 


I watched the whole thing. Click below for the link to the entire festival.
http://de.justin.tv/bluetv_premium2/b/309676170
Or here is a link to Morrissey's portion (just the first three songs):

It reminded me of watching Spanish TV with my great-grandma in Long Beach. She was from Mexico and just the flashy type of shows she watched on Sunday afternoons were so similar. 


Great-grandma had every reason to be unpleasant having survived the Mexican Revolution but she was most definitely "gentle and kind. "


Be strong.

Throw Your Homework Onto the Fire

I have to be perfectly honest. I am struggling with something to write about. I have made a vow to myself to write weekly (at least) no matter what. But not much has happened. 


Friday I went to have a "girlie" drink called a Pink Lotus Martini- with two teacher friends.The drink contains cotton candy and alcohol, how can you go wrong? 


One of my fellow teacher friends has left teaching to write a book and is considering coming back next year. I tried to convince her not to come back because she will get sucked into "the vortex". 


The vortex is the addicting nature of teaching. You can become easily addicted to planning and plotting and the emotion of students and school life. It can become all-consuming.  At a certain point you forget who you are completely. It takes summer vacation or Christmas break to find your way back to yourself.


Other ways to avoid the vortex include hanging out late at Irish pubs and playing drunken tambourine--but I wouldn't know about that.


Just my little way of figuratively "throwing my homework onto the fire".


Take My Hand and Off We Stride
Roland and I managed to go to Hollywood last night after having dinner at a place called The Fish Market in Los Alamitos. It was kind of limiting because there simply was not much on the menu for a non fish eating person. So I opted for some pasta with vegetables.


 It was not so easy to feel motivated to head to Hollywood since we were both exhausted. I am the one who wanted to go. It was just that my mom was watching the two older boys and we rarely have the chance to go out on a Sunday and I just thought that it would be exciting perhaps to go to Hollywood to the Cat and Fiddle and listen to live music. I just wanted "music, people and they're young and alive", etc.


Why we were exhausted: Our day included, waking up at 5:30, spending five hours at a swim meet and then heading to Long Beach to sit through the parent portion of the sex ed class we have subjected Jovanny to, taking Oliver to violin, dropping him off in Tustin for a sleepover, then heading to Buena Park to my mom's, then heading to Los Alamitos and  Hollywood.


It seems like every time I go to an English pub in Los Angeles in the evening I am tired beyond belief. Before I was married I went to The King's Head in Santa Monica with my friends Moe and Richard. There was an English musician playing there-advertised on the board outside as "Britain's newest sensation." Of course I can't remember his name. 


Anyway, the music was anything but lively so I hung dearly onto a pillar while this musician played I think David Gray-like tunes- I was literally falling asleep standing up. I even began to slide down the pillar as I nodded off. Moe and Richard were kind of annoyed. 


I so wanted to feel even slightly daring and somewhat "cooler" last night by hanging out in Hollywood on a Sunday evening that it was possible to appear as if I was not secretly longing for the security and comfort of my pillows and blankets. I tried desperately not to think of how wonderful it would feel to just close my eyes and imagine the soft, cold comfort of my pillow.


We enjoyed the Cat and Fiddle, by the way. We sat outside in the courtyard drinking our beer and listening to a Latin Jazz improvisation and watching people. The fairly lights were up. Roland asked where it looked like where we were at and I had to say it looked like Spain-or what I think Spain looks like. Roland thought it looked like Disneyland-by the New Orleans Square area.


I took pictures but they did not come out well at all. I desperately want/need a new camera.


The ride home was a snap. It took us all of thirty minutes to get back to the OC. It always seems like LA is so far, but it isn't when there is no traffic. I did not see Rasputin, Jesus or Spiderman. Too bad.


As I was writing this blog earlier while listening to Smiths music, with Mozipedia beside me on the bed, my husband asked, "Don't you think you are a little obsessed?" Umm. No. No. Not at all!