Empathic tendencies

I've been really shaken up about my ability last month to dream things that were actually happening. They were not precognitive dreams. I didn't dream about events that were going to happen in the future. Instead, I dreamed about people with whom I've had contact in the past and somehow intercepted actual information from them. My last dream happened on December 9th when I dreamed about a friend whom I saw the next day. In my dream he had on a yamaka. The next day I told him about my dream because it seemed so humorous. And he revealed that over the past weekend he actually had been wearing a yamaka. Keep in mind he's not Jewish. It was so strange that I didn't believe him, but he swore that he did have on a yamaka.

Shortly thereafter I changed my dosage of my medications and the dreams have since stopped completely.

The main reason I started undergoing therapy and taking medication was due to anxiety and hair-pulling, as I mentioned in the past. Part of me suspected that I actually had social anxiety as well, due to my aversion to groups of people, especially crowded, urban environments. But in the past few days I've been reading some stuff about "Empaths", or highly sensitive or intuitive people and I think I might be onto something.

I discovered this questionnaire at an Empath website.

Some of the side effects listed are uncanny. I experience all of them, but then there's this one: "Have physical symptoms that related to hearing (ringing, popping, itching in the ear canal)." I had never thought about this, but it brought back a memory from when I was younger:

When I was maybe 13 or 14, I was staying with my grandmother and aunts and we stopped to visit the house of a family friend. She was really happy to see us and invited us into her house. We entered from the backyard where she had a fence and her older German Shepherd was. He was paralyzed from the waist down and had to drag himself around. Seeing him, I automatically felt overwhelming nausea. She invited us inside the house and asked if we would go in and see her mother. She explained that she was very ill and frail, but that she loved to see children and that she would be delighted to see me and my brother. We entered the room where she was bedridden, right off the kitchen. We went in and she was lying in bed, covered in white bed clothes. She was weak and emaciated. She mustered a smile and drew my brother and me closer so she could see us.

At some point my aunt had asked me to hold her purse, and I had it over my shoulder. For some reason, after I had entered that room, I felt light-headed and dizzy. I couldn't think of an excuse to leave the room so I told my aunt that I wanted to put her purse in the car. My ears starting buzzing and then the ringing became louder and louder. She was confused and told me that she didn't want her purse in the car, but I kept insisting and stumbled back into the kitchen. At this point the ringing became deafening and all I could remember was my vision going brown. My aunt caught me as I passed out.

The energy from that poor old woman's room was too much for me. When I came to, the friend apologized to me and said, "I'm sorry, I think there's just too much death in this house." She gave me a creamsicle and my grandma and aunt drove me home. The old woman died shortly thereafter, but I'm not sure when.

It's just something to think about, I guess. It makes me wonder, though, how much of what I feel is me and how much is the people around me. It might explain the sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach that I get around certain people, why I know automatically when I'm not wanted and the overwhelming, light-headed feeling I experience in crowded places. Why in certain hotels I couldn't sleep with overwhelming senses of dread and why all of my boyfriends/friends/husband have been exceptionally chill people. And why I can't stand to be around people with tense, nervous energy.

And yes, if you aren't already convinced I'm a little batty, I don't see how this doesn't seal the deal for you.

Getting ready, set...

I'm a little bummed. Last Friday I ordered a Kipling Travel Tote, thinking it would make it here by Wednesday for my trip. The estimated date said today, so I was excited. But I just checked the FedEx shipping status and it's sitting in Dallas and the date was bumped to tomorrow--1 day late to make it on the plane with me. Now I have to find some kind of spacious tote since Simon is going to take the place of a regular carry-on. Might just have to backpack it.

I have problems, I admit it, throwing down a lot of moolah on my dog. I just got him a cute little coat for the cold in PA since it's going to be quite frigid and the poor little guy has never experienced winter. Then I got my parents a chew toy for their puppy, Jax, because he's a Labrador and those things are chew crazy. I also got samples of Orijen Large Puppy food since that's the brand we've been buying for Simon. We actually have been mixing his Innova Puppy Food with Orijen 6 Fish for Dog since he was getting a little bit pudgy on the rich puppy food and we needed to transition him to adult.

I've packed his Molly Mutt bed, his 3 kongs with treats, his chew toys and his skineez rabbit. I have his health certificate (just in case), his travel bowls, his gentle leader collar, his leash, his sedative pills, 14 days of food measured out into bags, his pee pads for the trip, as well as his Reindeer Antlers. All this... and now I have barely any room for my own stuff!

It's like having a baby. Seriously. I need that tote because it was going to be like my Doggie Diaper Bag!

I am a crazy puppy momma. I fear the day I have children.

Traveling with Pets

I like to think of myself as an experienced traveler. I haven't traveled nearly as much as a lot of people have, like, for example my grandmother who has been literally everywhere, but I have put in a lot of flight time in my 25 years. Especially in the last 5. Things have calmed down quite a bit, but while in my last three years of college I was flying back and forth between Chile, the US, Europe, Arizona, and the East Coast too many times to count. I've also done a lot of "budget" travel -- that means tons of connections with odd layover times. I can't remember the last time I actually flew on a direct flight.

But this Thursday, I'm embarking on a whole new adventure. I've traveled alone, I've traveled with my spouse. I've even traveled with his daughter. But now, I'm going to be traveling with Simon.

Simon is my seven month old Beagle-Chihuahua (aka cheagle) mix. And thank god, he's just small enough to still ride in the cabin. (I hope.)

I hadn't planned on returning to Pennsylvania for the holidays since we're saving our pennies for Oscar's business school and we're planning on going out to Durham, NC in March (the place where we are moving in July) for the Duke MBA program Welcome Weekend and to check out where we'd like to live. But my fabulous aunts surprised us with tickets, and even said that they'd pay for Simon to fly, as well. It's still a surprise for my parents so don't tell... I was elated since I miss my family a lot and haven't seen them since last Christmas.

But then I was slightly panicking because I hadn't even considered all that goes into flying with a pet.

When I called to make the reservations for him on our flight, I spoke to this rude woman named Rosario from continental. I wanted to ask if perhaps she was Chilean because her attitude took me back, man. Although it wasn't written anywhere on the website, she insisted that dogs over 10 lbs. couldn't fly in the cabin. When I pressed and said that I hadn't seen that rule anywhere and that my dog only weighs 15 lbs. she then said that I can try but he has to be shipped if he doesn't fit under the seat.

A huge contrast was Delta, the only airline with which I have flights on my way there. They were great and explained that as long as my dog fits under the seats there is no problem with him flying in-cabin.

A lot of people are scared about flying their pets, and after some research I've learned that almost all the injuries or deaths that occur are usually in cargo. I haven't come across any problems in-cabin. And I know that in-cabin pets are touchy, so I went to Simon's vet to talk about possible ways to keep him calm and quiet on the flight. He had no problem giving Simon sedatives as long as he wasn't riding in cargo, and I'm hoping that Continental won't give me problems with his size.

I also bought and returned 3 different carriers. There are so many different kinds, but after trying to maximize the amount of space that Simon would have and still find something compliant with the sizes permitted in cabin, I decided to go with a SturdiBag Pet Carrier. Assembling it was much like putting up a tent, and I was really pleased when Simon just crawled in and laid down to take a nap. He really likes small spaces and there's tons of room on his sides for him to curl up in any which way.

Although my dog weighs roughly 15 lbs., he's a tall little guy. His body is only 16 inches, but his legs are 11! This was a big problem since dogs need to be able to stand up and turn around in their carriers. This one ended up being the best because it's 12 inches high, but then squishes to fit underneath the seat. I also love that there's an opening for him to poke his head out of.

That being said, my dog is a little escape artist. He's opened his Precision pet wire kennel before and gotten loose in the house, and it took him 5 minutes of a practice run in the car to figure out how to unzip the bag (despite there even being zipper locks) and get out. After seeing him in action I was 100% sure that we'd need the sedatives. What cracks me up, though is that as long as the bag is open he loves to hang out in it, it's just the closing that he does not like (much like his kennel).

This is a picture of Simon in one of the carriers that didn't make the cut. It wasn't strong enough, I felt that he was about to bust out of it. Thank goodness Petsmart took it back, because a lot of places won't due to flea issues.



As you can see, he has abnormally long arms.

So, I'll let you all know how to goes. I think I'll be taking photos. I hope it goes well because being able to fly with him in cabin is so helpful.

If you're interested in information about traveling with pets, check out DogJaunt. They have all the information you could ever need!

How Santiago Hardened me (Made me street smart?)

Here at The University of Texas at Austin we have a little sector just outside of the university called "The Drag." If you're familiar with Austin I'm referring to the stretch of "Guadalupe" (which Texans pronounce as "Gwa-da-loop") that runs parallel to the university. It's where you find the student bookstore, lots of hip little restaurants, cafes and bars, an American Apparel and Urban Outfitters with hipster garb-galore, vintage shops, and so on. Also where lots of buses run and have stops, and I happen to walk through it nearly everyday on my way to school.

It's also where you find a lot of people pan-handling for money. Why they choose this sector? I don't know. I personally am offended when someone hits me up for money every single day. Usually the person is barely older than me, with some punk haircut and piercings with combat boots and cigarette stains on their fingernails. I want to say, Why me? We barely make ends meet enough as it is, and as selfish as this sounds any extra pennies, even, get saved to go toward my step-daughter's Chilean school, since it costs an arm and a leg. My husband and I do donate money, but we unfortunately can't donate as much as we'd like, and I'd certainly rather give it to established programs rather than to people on the street.

Occasionally, though, there will be someone who is even more bold than passively saying, "Do you have a little spare change," which really doesn't bother me that much. They will follow you, calling out, "Miss!!!" (like what happened to me yesterday).

Or even worse, a few days prior, a young, clean-cut looking guy standing on a corner next to an ATM, actually called out to me, saying, "Hey! You with the furry hood! You dropped something!"

I spun around, and glanced at the street behind me seeing nothing I had dropped and made eye contact with him. He then called out, "I just have a question, I promise I'm not a bum on the street!"

In a split second I realized that I hadn't dropped anything, that he was lying to get my attention, and the combination of a liar next to an ATM spelled out trouble. I couldn't even help it, as a gut reaction, I gave him a mean look and held up my hand in a stop signal, something I used often in Italy to mean, "Basta!" (Enough!) He immediately turned away and shut up and let me continue on my way.

Continuing my walk, though, I thought about why they target the student population, rather than people who actually have money in more affluent sectors. I speculated that students are probably a lot more naive and likely to give them money. And I realized that my freshman year, never having lived in a city and quite sweet, I probably would have given them money. Prior to living in Santiago, I was quite an idealist. I didn't have much experience living in cities-- in my hometown I can't say I've ever seen someone begging --and thus thought that people begging for money are in critically desperate situations and would have wanted to help.

In Santiago, I passed dozens of mothers breast feeding babies on the metro stairs on my way to work, blind people, people missing limbs... all asking for money, and all probably really needing it. Little old women, children, people playing instruments. Eventually I had to turn off my sympathy, because otherwise I would have given away all of my money. I felt conflicted about this for a while, until I read a quote from Pablo Neruda talking about how he despises beggars because they create the illusion that by giving them money you're actually committing a charitable act and thus making a difference in your society. Probably a bad excuse, but I just had to affix my gaze and push onward each and every time. Eventually it stops affecting you and sadly you reach a point where you hardly notice it anymore.

I do believe that these "beggars" along Guadalupe do need the money in some sense, but when you're a punk kid who stops me on my way to class, you either infuriate me or make me want to laugh in your face. I want to say, "What do you take me as? Do you have any idea how ridiculous you look here in comparison to the woman who used to sit on Manuel Montt with three kids on a tattered blanket... asking for money?" If you're even more "patudo" (probably a scam artist) and actually try and trick me into lending you cash from an ATM I'm sorry but I'm not that dumb! This heart has hardened, my friend.

But yes, I realized that my heart has hardened.

I don't really know what I think about that, but I turned 25 yesterday and I guess I'm a little older and seasoned. I think I have sort of a baby-sweet face which is probably why a lot of those people target me on the street. But dude, I'm old and jaded. Don't bother me, street punks! Let me walk in peace.

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Despite the fact that I don't give out spare change on the street, I do like to support organizations or individuals that at least strive to promote a more sustainable social change. I don't know why it has to be fancy, either. Don't forget about your local food banks! At this time of year they are often hard-pressed for nutritious, healthy options. Some even accept produce, so check and see what they most need at this time of year!