#GivingTuesday

It's #GivingTuesday and this is a not so subtle attempt to market some of my favorite non-profits and tell you where to put your money (spoiler alert, it's not necessarily where your mouth is).

So, here they are, Ann's Top Nine (I don't know why I chose nine) Places to Give this Giving Tuesday...

THE ARTS:

Because, to be frank, art changes people. It may be our best ally.

1. Trinity Street Players. I admit it. I may be biased because I founded this theatre and now I'm helping them out again. But still. It's a theatre. In a church. Where thespians are allowed to be themselves, and make art, and not feel proselytized. It's a nice change from the unfortunate norm. (Note: go to the Trinity Street Players line item to donate).

2. Creede Repertory Theatre. Also a biased choice. This is where I worked over the summer and it's a dream. And an anomaly... considering there's only 400 people living in Creede, Colorado right now.

3.  The Rude Mechs. I love this internationally acclaimed theatre company whose home is ATX. However, they're trying to make the hard decision about staying or going. So, get your money and go vote. (Their marketing team is brilliant).

THE ENVIRONMENT:

What do you care about the most? They alway ask this on those dang surveys that I get in the mail. Check one of the following.... Healthcare, Corruption on Walstreet, Gun Control. Well, needless to say, my X goes next to the environment box, cuz, y'all. Facts are facts. And it's going fast.

4. World Wildlife Fund - "WWF’s work has evolved from saving species and landscapes to addressing the larger global threats and forces that impact them." And, pandas.

5. The Conservation Fund - "From Alaska’s North Slope to Maryland’s Eastern shore, we’re working with groups to protect lands that that will allow vulnerable species to move and adapt." This is smart work.

6. PETA - Because people who are cruel to animals suck. And don't get me started on what it says about our culture that we have puppy farms and factory farms.

HEALTH:

Because, cancer.

7. St. Jude Children's Research Hospital. Enough said.

Oh and ALS. Because our healthcare system is pretty corrupt, and trying to get resources to survive is pretty difficult.

8. The ALS Association.

OTHER:

9. NPR. Because, news and art. It's a lifesaver on those long drives. And its refreshing to know that thoughtful people still exist and are telling theirs and other's stories. 

And Then I Moved to Colorado

I spent my birthday with strangers this year and it was one of the most exciting days of my life.

Not because anyone knew it was my birthday (or because anyone even knew me). Not because I moved into the triangle shaped upstairs of a house chock full of Harry Potter holes (small doors that monsters and bad guys could easily crawl out of - terrifying!). Not because I ate a delicious, gluten-filled brownie my roommate made because she likes to bake. Not because my other roommate had a long haired chiguagua with whom I knew I would become best friends. Not because I watched my first full Game of Thrones (which I hate) episode in an attempt to make human friends. 

Not even because of all those reasons.

Rather, it was one of the more momentous days of my life because I moved to Creede, Colorado to take a new job with a repertory theatre.   

Did We Win?

1. Amy, The Doctor

2. Ann, The Actor

3. Andee, The Aerialist

I Spoke Too Soon...

I know I keep posting that I've seen over the past week, some of the most beautiful and awesome places in America (please pronounce that with a Presidential accent), but our final destination outside of Denver, CO, could not go without mention either.  The magnificence of Mt. Evans could not have been a more fitting end to the Reverse Oregon Trail because we viewed it's majesty on America's (are you keeping up with your accent?) Independence Day.

So. Amazing.

We drove... and drove... and drove... to get to Denver where we checked into a super rad hotel that is both dog-friendly and LGBT-friendly, so we knew we were guaranteed supurb service and excellent decor.  Indeed, they had the freaking fuzziest cow blankets  strewn across the ends of the beds which perfectly complimented the twenty-foot tall curtains accenting the subtleties of the carpet pattern.  Lord.

Destination #2

I seriously thought our second destination would not even come close to rivaling the amazeballsness of The Most Beautiful Place on Earth.  But it was SO RAD.  Here's why.

1. "It means what you think it means."  is what The Aerialist told us as she read the Wikipedia entry on The Grand Tetons, because we couldn't keep our eyes off them.  They're so beautiful.  We went from a gorgeous Oregon to a beautiful Idahoming.  And we needed detes on why in the world they're called the Grand Tetons.  I will refrain from giving my opinion on this name or it's etymology.  Because they look like this.
 

You're Taking Me Too, Right?

...by guest blogger, Sophie Pittman

I was in oregon.  I really liked it there.  There were trails, and trash cans, and coasts, and fountains, and caitlins, and margarets, and slugs, and sticks, and apples, and visitors.  I am on a road trip.  I would like to get in the front with my mom, but it's not allowed.  I wind around and curl up and go to sleep.  Or I stretch completely out across the whole backseat.  There's a horse we just passed.  What's that smell?  I have a hurt foot.  We went to the grand tetons yesterday because I wanted to. We swam in a big bath tub that had moving water.  It was hard.  I hurt my foot.  Jackson hole is a dump.  I hate that place.   We went back to driggs because I wanted to.  There was a lady at the campfire and there was something funny about her.  But then I liked her.  We just passed a smell.  What's that smell?  I'm tired.  We are going to denver because I want to.  It's nice that oikos makes yogurt containers that are easier to lick clean than yoplait.  I hate yoplait.  What's that smell?  I don't like to be alone.  Ann and andee went in a store in jackson hole and it took years and years for them to come back, but I waited.  I hate jackson hole.  Everyone loves me.  There was a man at signal mountain who was eating a roast beef sandwhich on rye with mayo, tomato, lettuce, and swiss.  Everyone loves me and I can easily fit onto beds and laps and chairs and pretty much anywhere and not take up much room.  I'm thirsty.  What's that smell?  There is a wonderful container full of ends of foods and coffee filters and banana peels that my mom leaves for me everyday in oregon.  She sets up obstacle courses to keep other people out of it besides me so that I can have it all to myself.  I know she'll have one in chicago too.  There's another horse.  My best friend in columbia was a horse because people and horses can be friends.  We are going to st. joseph after denver because I want to.  They love me there.  What's that smell?

The Most Beautiful Place on Earth

The decision to awake at 3:30 to pack the car, drive to the Crater Lake Rim, and watch the sunrise was a difficult one that I left to The Doctor and The Aerialist.  I'm in this for the adventure, and the three hours of sleep that event would have afforded us would have affected my decision.  Apparently it affected their decision too.  We slept all the way through the night and left the next morning at a normal hour for what shall hereto be known as The Most Beautiful Place on Earth.

Actually, that's not true... about the sleeping through the night thing I mean.  Sophie woke her mother up four times distraught about why they had packed their entire life into a car and driven to Southern Oregon.  I too frequently awoke from disturbing dreams of puppets chasing me around a burning house.  Not even puppets.  They're those cardstock animations with circle hinges at the joints so you can thumbtack them into the wall in different positions.

Welcome to Ann's Dream World.

The First 344 Miles

Once The Aerialist and I arrived in Portland it actually took us quite a while to get going.  The Doctor had to do a walk-thru on her apartment, we had to go to the grocery store to get food for the trip (remember those tricky aerialist allergies?), we needed to say goodbye to My Person's daughter, and of course, we had to go to the Columbia outlet.

While the Aerialist and I had been waiting for The Doctor to finish up at her apt., we walked up Hawthorne Street sipping smoothies and talking about delicious food we can't eat.  In addition, she made the brilliant suggestion that we get matching Portlandian tattoos.  I said no way jose.  Matching piercings?  Sure. The Doctor and I had already done that once in college.

Fast forward a couple hours to after The Doctor had unloaded a queen blowup bed and some dress clothes on My Person's daughter, and the three of us were at the Columbia outlet eying the 70%off already discounted shoes.

The end result?  You guessed it.  Matching hiking tennis shoes.


So. Awesome.

And after finally getting on the road and driving several hours south, we grabbed socks and strapped our feet in.  Our destination?  The top of Smith Rock.

The Reverse Oregon Trail

I am in Portland.

For the second time this year, I have flown to Portland to see my sister, hereto described as The Doctor. The first trip was for pleasure, this one is for purpose.

We are engaging Operation Reverse Oregon Trail.

For anyone not in grade school in the 1980s, and/or who never read their fifth grade American History Textbook this means that we are heading West... no, make that East... on a trail back to the midwest.



Bleh.  Why would anyone leave Oregon to travel back to Missouri?

But we're doing it.  And we're accompanied by Sophie the flatulent Labrador, and Andee, the allergy-ridden aerialist.  Needless to say, it's going to be awesome.

Except I'm already out of money.

2011, A Review

So it's the end of 2011. Let's review.

In case you are curious, here are the ten most amazing cats (according to Animal Planet). My favorite is the barking cat, though I do love me some inter-species communication!

And it was a pretty amazing year for me too.

I played Eva Peron in Evita, chorus girl #8 in Stop the World I Want To Get Off and Amalia Balish in She Loves Me in Georgetown, Austin and Wimberley, Texas. I wrote some things and sometimes spoke what I wrote to large groups of people... once in Guatemala... and once at my grandpa's funeral. When I wasn't singing or writing or preaching, I was changing diapers; nannying is my day job. I vacated in Colorado, at Disney World and went home to St. Jo Mo a record three times this year (and none of those was Christmas!). I turned 33 and threw myself a Jesus Died When He Was My Age Birthday Party. I had a boyfriend for a while and spent the rest of the time dating republicans, millionaires and men much older than me. I don't know what I was thinking either. And then I had a tonsillectomy. A rough ending to an exciting year.

Ugh that was horrible. Think about kittens... christmas... puppets! Let's see what Jibjab has to say about 2011.

Yeah, that doesn't make me feel much better. And when I look at the most infamous oopsies of 2011 (according to Yahoo), I don't know whether to laugh or cry.

So back to animals. Here's the top 10 Animal stories of 2011 (according to Huffington Post).

In theater, here's the 10 best things on Broadway (according to the Hollywood Reporter) that you can feel free to take me to see anytime in 2012 :)

And speaking of art, here's the 14 most inspiring looks (according to Fashion Gone Rogue) of 2011. O to be beautiful and have someone paint my face and let me wear amazing costumes. Le sigh.

Are you getting all health conscious since the New Year (and its resolutions) are right around the corner? Check out the 10 most amazing biomedical advancements of 2011 (according to New Scientist)

Speaking of breakthroughs, the NRDC emailed me this, thanking me for the work I did (donations made, petitions signed, letters written) to help make a world of difference in 2011 :)

But damn we still have a long way to go.

Not even mentioning the environment, Reuters has the most depressing overview of 2011 though their layout is pretty cool. (The only positive thing they dipicted was Britain's Royal Wedding).

But never fear! Because I believe that hope prevails, that love wins, Google's overview is probably my favorite... :)

Know Thyself

Um... what the...?

This cat is BARKING, yes, as in, like a dog, until it turns around and sees it's human with the video camera and then it finishes out it monster cry with a MEOW.

This is like 10 seconds long and is cray cray. Watch it.

Klepto the Cat

Oh my gosh. This is awesome. A news report on a cat that steals stuff. Watch this 'til the end. The night camera video footage of him is hilarious!

Secret Kitty

Squee of the day via Posh Deluxe. Check out this short clip from Jezebel...

Satan's Little Helper's Little Buddy Gets a Bad Rap From the Therapist

"It's a form of torture," she said. "They interrupt people's sleep when they want to get information out of them. They let them sleep for a few hours and then wake them up. It's a torture method."

I'm sleepy all the time. There's many factors for this but one of them is my cat, Potter.

"I love cats," my therapist explained. "But your cat needs to cut that sh*t out."

I had been telling her about how I usually get up three times a night - even if it's just to go out in the kitchen and shake the kitties' food bowl.

"Close your bedroom door!" My therapist said.

"I do, but then he slides his paws under it, and he shakes the door back and forth."

He's really strong.

Usually it's Zorba who gets a bad rap from my adoring public. "Satan's Little Helper," my friends call him. "The Vampire Cat." "Avoid like the plague," they warn newcomers.

But it's his brother, Potter who's falling under scrutiny right now. Precious little night-stalker Potter.

Zorba on the other hand is recovering from eye surgery and getting shaved... again. Here's a pic of him naked with the cone.



That damn eye surgery cost MORE THAN TWICE what I thought it was going to and while I don't blame the cat, I'm also not going out to eat for the next six months of my life. No more dancing, no more organic food... ramen noodles for me.

I'm exaggerating, but not by much.

I adore the cats, I do. Zorba's kneading my stomach as I type and Potter's sleeping, reclined against my hip. (I blame any misspelled words on them). But apparently they're subjecting me to torture which may explain my constant fatigue and lack of energy.

And what the therapist says, goes... usually. So in addition to the ear plugs and sleeping pills (only used on occasion), I'm putting an ice water spray bottle by my bed tonight to squirt Potter with when he wakes me up. My therapist suggested it. It's the only time she's encouraged me towards violence.

"Fight torture with torture;" not usually my motto. But when Satan's Little Helper's little buddy gets a bad rap from the therapist, drastic measures must be taken.

Dog Named Angel Becomes a Guardian Angel

I love this stuff.

I Can't Help It, I Love These Guys... And Cats.

So I posted a video these two engineers made last year and couldn't resist posting this one too. I watched it twice straight through giggling the whole time. And my poor Potter couldn't figure out where the other cats were coming from. Thanks for the clip Ginger!

Look Who's OCD... and it's not me.

So I need to preface this blog with a disclaimer... if you are inclined to ever say, "type-casting" or "like mother like daughter" or "that's the pot calling the kettle black," then please don't read any further.

Cause Potter has Obsessive Compulsive Disorder.

I kid you not.

It was his yearly checkup so we went to get his shots from our favorite vet, Dr. B. Just for safety's sake, I pointed out Potter's bald spot on his lower abdomen. I figured he'd gotten into some duct tape on one of his journeys into the great outdoors that is my neighbor's yard. But the doc said it's either mites or obsessive grooming (god knows he didn't get that from me). However, after a scraping of the belly, Dr. B ruled out mites and suggested he might suffer from OCD.

OMG.

And any other assortment of appropriate acronyms.

It's stress, Dr. B suggested and offered to prescribe my cat antidepressants. ANTIDEPRESSANTS. "Don't bother, I've got plenty in the cabinet," I wanted to say, but refrained. Instead, I argued: Potter's the happiest one in the house! How could he be stressed? So Dr. B offered to check out a fecal sample just in case it is mites (and not a mental disorder) and the mites are hiding.

Even worse. I should have kept my mouth shut.

"Can you get a fecal sample?"
"Have you ever followed an indoor/outdoor cat around all day? No. I cannot."
"Then shut him in a closed off room with a litter box."
Riiight. Cause that won't get my carpet ripped up and my shoes peed on.

Then I thought of another solution. I'd change the litter in the litter box. I rarely do that because they're indoor/outdoor cats and often take care of business where it recycles naturally. They only really "go" inside except when it's raining. And I'm convinced that changing the litter is for Potter like hearing stories of waterfalls and gushing rivers is to a child in a car. So, once home, I grabbed the scooper and began scooping. Then I waited. And before the dust from the litter even settled, Potter was in the litter box having a little moment. Unfortunately the moment only produced urine. But as he covered it up with his paws pushing the litter, he circled around once again and my hope was rekindled. Sure enough the squatted and hunched and a little squeek came out of his mouth.

I scooped the poop before he had a chance to cover it and closed in it the vet's container.

One cat down and one to go. My truly troubled cat is actually the opposite of Potter, he's essentially quit grooming himself. He has huge knots in his fur that he can't get out and I can't get out, and they keep growing and spreading, knotting his fur.

"Lion's Cut," Dr. B said. "Just do it."

And speaking of licking, or not licking as the case may be, I asked our favorite vet (i've practically put his kids through college, I'm sure), "Is it normal for dogs to lick things?"
"What do you mean?"
"Like... the bed. Or the couch. For long periods of time."
"The same spot or multiple spots?"
"Oh, different places."
"He licks the bed and the couch. He licks cloth, then."
"Uh huh."
"No, that's not normal."

Of course it isn't. But Dr. B assured me that neither does it mean she's ill. "Try telling her NO and then handing her a rawhide."

Yes, okay, I'll give it a shot. Let me know what you find out about my OCD cat's fecal sample and I'll bring Satan's Little Helper in for his Lion's Cut tomorrow.

Wait til my therapist hears about this...

Wow, January

What a month.

I had high expectations, as you know. You'll remember the Funeral for 2008, here are some pics and also my favorite line from the Catholic Last Rites directions for flowers (which I gave since they were so powerful): Any giving should be for the living, who are in need, and the grave should be forgotten. Man, I suck at that.





As you'll recall, New Year's Eve I spent much time with Zorba at the animal hospital and despite the almost $500 I've spent in Vet fees this month (more on that later), I also was able to spend some time with, as Michelle puts it, my "besties." Here's Joy, Michi and I being silly putting on our best ever (why we haven't tired of this yet, I'll never know) "Joy face," the pouty look our community has agreed Joy's makes in most pictures she's in.



New Year's Day, I woke up with early for there were still two more parties to attend. A breakfast party with the Waco crew (who now all live in Austin) at Ren and Alicia's house...



And also a deep fried turkey lunch with some friends from church who happen to be the parents of one of my favorite babies, Bella.



It was a full day and 2009 had officially begun.

However, I put too much pressure on myself that first week of January and ended up crying twice at work. Oh well. Desperation would not get the best of me I determined, and despite lingering reminders that another bad year was only one tragedy away, I put my best foot forward and marched on toward week two.

...which consisted of aforementioned trips to the vet. Zorba's eye isn't healed. Janie has dried rice worms on her butt. Potter is sneezing and his eyes are leaking like Zorba's. Here's Janie's poop... etc.

Three vet visits and five medications later, my dog's worms and giardia are hopefully gone, Zorba's officially healed and well and Potter's fighting off the last few days of an upper respitory infection both he and Zorba caught. And speaking of catching things... "Use good hygiene," my vet suggested during our last conversation when he revealed the findings from the fecal sample. "Giardia's contagious to humans."

LOVELY.

Good thing I've been working out and keeping my antibodies high. Which brings us to week three: I'm a haus. Michelle and I have been working out at the Y (of which there is one ghetto-fied one near my house and one downtown). And since cedar is high and my allergies are awful (and I could catch a disease from my dog), I am able to make it through the treadmill and the weight lifting and that terrible monster of a machine you stand on and move your feet up and down on and practically fall off of the first time you get on it, only by rewarding myself with promises of the steam room at the end of the workout. I love it. I feel very healthy when my sweat (and terrible toxins hopefully) pour out of my body and drip to the floor. Sometimes I meditate which makes me feel healthy and holy. But most of the time I just try to sit quietly and pretend there aren't a bunch of middle aged men sitting in there with me. I love it.

Good thing too cause my therapist went on maternity leave.

I know, right?

Speaking of stress (the fun kind), we're doing another play at church. And because our director went out of town for two weeks (and only agreed to direct the show if I accepted that in advance), I've gotten to play a second hand at directing... which I love. Don't get me wrong, I love acting more. But I've found this new side of the theater, the side i often sat and observed from during much of my childhood, only this time, instead of my dad, I'm the director. And I love the concepts and the pictures formed and the character motivations and the mannerisms and the tone and the angles and the big picture. I love seeing the scenes come together to become a piece of art, a fluid, methodical piece of art.

It's fun. Oh, and it's Inherit the Wind. Just in time for the Texas state legislature to vote on whether or not to change the wording on some document that would essentially allow creationism to be taught in the classroom. At the beginning of the play, under Time and Place the author writes: any town, any time... and it's so true. I just with it wasn't true in Texas.

So that's January. In a nutshell.

Oh, and did I mention we got a new president? :)

'Twas the Night Before Christmas... at the Pittman's

'Twas the night before Christmas when all through the house
Not a creature was stirring not even a mouse
(neither were the squirrels in the attic but that's another story)

The stockings were hung by the chimney with care
In hopes that St. Nicolas soon would be there;

Little Emily was nestled all snug in her bed,
While visions of iPhones danced in her head;

Carol in her jammies, and Mike in his cap
Had just settled down for a long winter's nap,

When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter
I sprang from the couch to see what was the matter.

Away past the window I flew like a flash
Tore open the door by where coats are all stashed;

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But my sister, Amy, and her doggy so dear,

With a giant, spry labrador, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment that it wasn't St. Nick.

More rapid than eagles my dog also came,
And we whistled, and shouted, and called them bad names;

"Now, Sophie! now, Janie! now, stop that! Get down!
No barking! No jumping! Stop horsing around!

To the top of the couch! to the top of the wall!
They dashed away! dashed away! dashed away all!"

So all over house then the coursers they flew,
Drug their leashes behind, and their mommies too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the stair
The determined descent of the one with red hair.

As I drew in my hand, and was turning around,
Down the stairs Crazy Carol came with a bound.

A wink of her eye and a twist of her head,
Soon gave us to know we had nothing to dread;

She spoke not a word, but went straight to the fridge,
And pulled out two bones; then turned with a jerk,

And pointing her finger at the fighting canines,
And giving a nod, they sat on their behinds;

She sprang to the microwave, punched defrost, set the clock
And the tails they both swished liked they'd just hit the jackpot.

Then I heard her exclaim, ere she tossed them the bones..
Merry Christmas to all, and to family come home!

Christmas Vacation Day 1: Driving and Sleeping

But not behind the wheel, thank God.

When I left Austin, Texas it was 46 degrees. When I arrived in Wichita, Kansas it was 11 degrees. I lost about ten per state. And yes, it is cold. Uber cold.

Janie is pacing around the motel room. i can't tell if she's still checking the place out or just really has to pee. But it's so cold, I don't want to take her out again.

Ha! Now's she's stopped to look at herself in the full length mirror. Fabulous. My dog's a narcissist. Or just recognizes super duper cuteness when she sees it. One of the two.

The cats are probably shivering since I turned off the heat and... yes... left them in Austin. I know. I was teary when I pulled out of the driveway too. Anyone left in Austin over the holidays, feel free to go visit them. Even Satan's Little Helper gets lonely, you know. Clarence the wonder-neighbor is feeding them.