I'm approaching a birthday. Ugghhh in three months I'll be 33 years old. This may not seem that old to some but according to the Beloit College Mindset list i'm freaking ancient! I can attribute these feelings of out datedness to technology which is both the jewel and the bane of my existence. If you want to read up on the mindset of this years crop of incoming freshman and join me in my lamenting woes you can do so by clicking on this: http://www.beloit.edu/mindset/2014/
As this birthday looms larger than life for me this year with my oldest biological son entering Kindergarten and my bonus daughter beginning her freshman year of high school I'm looking back at my younger, thinner, more stupid self and wishing I could give her some advice. Some things I'd like to go back and tell her, but knowing myself as well as I do, she wouldn't listen to me anyway are listed below.
1) It's ok to fail. The world will not end if you screw up pursuing your dream as a writer and your family will not think less of you for doing so.
2)NO ONE looks good in Spandex, flourescent lighting, or too small clothes
3) Keep your wardrobe you'll be shocked at how quickly that fashion comes back around in your lifetime.
4) Just because you can get away with it doesn't mean you should.
5) 1 out of ever 3 people will not like you and that's OK
6) You are not a weirdo, creepy, loser for keeping a journal but make sure you keep a lock on that thing!!
7) Save your money (conversly stay away from credit cards).
8)Go to counseling BEFORE you decide to get married
9) Move somewhere and learn to live alone, learn to enjoy living alone
10) Life isn't fair, it's usually not fair in your favor so quite whining about it.
11) When someone says "it could be worse" believe them.
12) Perfectionism will kill you.
13) Life is not a race and there is no "timeline" for getting to certain milestones. It's not important that you reach them at such and such a time only that you reach them.
14) When someone shows you who they are believe them, People are consistent.
15) You can not "fix" people nor should you try.
16) Opinions are like buttholes, everyone has them, not everyone wants to get a whiff of yours so keep it to yourself unless asked. If asked temper it with tolerance and understanding.
17) NO is just as powerful as Yes. Learn to use them appropriatly.
18) Stay away from JOHNATHAN TALL!!! he will ruin your life both spiritually and emotionally.
19) It's ok to like video games, comic books, dressing up in costumes, playing pretend, reading, and being an all around geek. It does not make you better or worse than anyone else.
20) Don't be so quick to cut people out of your life.
21) Letting go of control is liberating. Try it!!!
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
My whole life has been one fight after another. I am the middle child of seven so I had to fight to be heard, fight to be seen, fight to be acknowledged, I had to fight to survive in a house full of women and one boy. When I went to college I thought I wouldn't have to fight anymore but the battles were still there the only ting that had changed was the geography. In relationships I had to fight to be respected, honored, understood, accepted. I had to fight to make good grades and balance my social life with my academic one. Go too far either way and you risk losing the battle of obtaining a well rounded education. As a christian I've had to fight against the prejudice and mockery that often comes from choosing that religion. I had to fight against labels like Jesus Freak, bible thumper, holy roller, and religious nut job. The outside world is fraught with danger on all sides. Even inside a church there are labels and gossip and popularity contests. I know that may shock some non church goers but more often than not church is just high school with more traditions to be observed. I'm not an 'Individual", I"m not a socialist, or a Marxist. I don't believe its the governments job to take care of me or mine and I don't expect them to solve the countries, or the worlds, problems. I don't fit into any standard category and I don't judge those that do.
In my youth I believed in fairness and justice and the American Way. I'm older now and I'm the veteran of many of life's battles. I'm still young only in my 30's and I know this life has more pain and suffering to teach me, I know there are more battles to fight, I also know that nothing is black and white, the white knight does not exist in our physical world and life is messy and complicated like all battlefields are. Yet I find myself wondering what happens to a soldier when he's too tired to march? What happens to the warrior that's to old or too tired to pick up his sword one more time, what happens when the fighting ends? Where do we battle hardened survivors end up? Do we wash up on some sad lonely shore? Do we go on fighting so long that we forget how to enjoy peace and do we even recognize it when it comes? When you've held that sword and shield so long that it's become a part of you, ingrained in everything you do so much so that it's no longer habit it just is how do you learn to let go, put down your weapons, step away from the carnage and the gore and just rest?
How do you stop fighting, and just be? God says "Be still, and know that I am God". Does this mean we don't have to fight? Does this mean that we can lay down our weapons, step aside, and let God do all the rest? How does one BE STILL when ones entire life has been action and reaction?
I don't know the answers some days I don't want to know and other days the puzzle seems to complicated to bother with. I wonder why God gave me a spirit of fire and then made me a woman. I don't know how to bend or capitulate. I don't understand the mentality of a victim. I don't understand how some people seem to enjoy being a victim. I seem to be incapable of pasively letting things happen to me. Is this the mentality of a fighter, a survivor, or someone who is just too scared to Be Still? It's hard for me to depend on others, to trust others, or in some cases to put up with others. I am by nature a quality over quantity person. I keep very few close friends and I enjoy mass quantities of time alone. I am not and never will be a social butterfly because society as a whole confuses and confounds me. I may never understand myself fully and I think i'm ok with that. Questions keep us nimble and quick two skills needed to survive. I can count on one hand the number of people I consider best friends.
Laurie my oldest and closest friend. She was there with and for me through the hell fires of junior high and high school. We stood back to back against the perils of young adulthood and the pitfalls of marriage. Now we share the adventure of motherhood. She is my sister born in the fires of adolescent and tempered through the years of adulthood. No matter how much time passes between visits it is always as if no time has gone at all. She will be the friend that buries me at the end and that tells my children tales of our youth together. She will be the one that always keeps my secrets safe and my accomplishments public.
Rolsa who played high school basketball with me in Wendover and carpooled with me to Jackpot for school and back again. She was the first of us to get her license and she has the heart of gold that Laurie and I lack. If Laurie is fire Rolsa is water. She is cool and calm in the face of strife. She keeps us level headed and our feet on the ground. Rolsa is our warrior monk who reminds us that life is short and precious and should be cherished. She is the last to lose her temper and the first to offer peace. She is the caretaker for her family and she embodies the spirit of hearth and home. Don't ever mistake Rolsa for a shallow pond because still waters run deep and when the wind of her ire is unleashed she is a gale force on the open ocean. Sweet, gentle, loving, caring Rolsa who always reminds me that fire is extinguished by water.
For a long time we were a band of three. Sisters not by blood but by Gods design. Each of us different from the other. Each of us strong where the other was weak and always there to lend our strength to the other when needed. That was until recently when I met Roxanne. I never imagined I'd find a sister in arms in St.Louis. I was resigned to my long distance friendships and content with the many mothers I had met through the mommy board. Then one night at an MNO (moms night out) I met Roxanne. At first I didn't really notice her. She wasn't loud, she wasn't rude, or a drama queen or any of those things that usually make a person stick out. I was there to have fun, mingle with the new moms and try to spend a little time with everyone. I wasn't looking for a fast friend. I wasn't LOOKING and that was the problem. God must have sighed in exasperation at me that night because he gave me another opportunity, another chance, to see the person he had put before me. Thankfully I wasn't a fool twice and I did notice her. I talked to her, I texted her and met her, and hung out with her. I can't tell you for sure how she came to be friend, I think the best friendships are often the ones where they seem to just always have been, no beginning and no end. All I can say is that she is there. Roxanne is has become the air that feeds the fire and gives it life. If your blessed to be her friend she will never desert you. She will listen without judgement, She will give you an ear or two if you need it. Roxanne is constant, steady, and no matter where in this wide world she finds herself she will always find time for the ones she keeps close.
Now we are a band of four. We have each other near and far to cry with, laugh with, rage with. I always liked the number four.
I am a fighter, I am a survivor, and while I may not ever understand anything else about myself than this I know that I do not fight alone. I have my sisters in arms. I have God throughout and at the end.
Where do warriors go when the fighting is at an end? Maybe they just go to their friends and spend their golden years reliving the battles of their youth.
In my youth I believed in fairness and justice and the American Way. I'm older now and I'm the veteran of many of life's battles. I'm still young only in my 30's and I know this life has more pain and suffering to teach me, I know there are more battles to fight, I also know that nothing is black and white, the white knight does not exist in our physical world and life is messy and complicated like all battlefields are. Yet I find myself wondering what happens to a soldier when he's too tired to march? What happens to the warrior that's to old or too tired to pick up his sword one more time, what happens when the fighting ends? Where do we battle hardened survivors end up? Do we wash up on some sad lonely shore? Do we go on fighting so long that we forget how to enjoy peace and do we even recognize it when it comes? When you've held that sword and shield so long that it's become a part of you, ingrained in everything you do so much so that it's no longer habit it just is how do you learn to let go, put down your weapons, step away from the carnage and the gore and just rest?
How do you stop fighting, and just be? God says "Be still, and know that I am God". Does this mean we don't have to fight? Does this mean that we can lay down our weapons, step aside, and let God do all the rest? How does one BE STILL when ones entire life has been action and reaction?
I don't know the answers some days I don't want to know and other days the puzzle seems to complicated to bother with. I wonder why God gave me a spirit of fire and then made me a woman. I don't know how to bend or capitulate. I don't understand the mentality of a victim. I don't understand how some people seem to enjoy being a victim. I seem to be incapable of pasively letting things happen to me. Is this the mentality of a fighter, a survivor, or someone who is just too scared to Be Still? It's hard for me to depend on others, to trust others, or in some cases to put up with others. I am by nature a quality over quantity person. I keep very few close friends and I enjoy mass quantities of time alone. I am not and never will be a social butterfly because society as a whole confuses and confounds me. I may never understand myself fully and I think i'm ok with that. Questions keep us nimble and quick two skills needed to survive. I can count on one hand the number of people I consider best friends.
Laurie my oldest and closest friend. She was there with and for me through the hell fires of junior high and high school. We stood back to back against the perils of young adulthood and the pitfalls of marriage. Now we share the adventure of motherhood. She is my sister born in the fires of adolescent and tempered through the years of adulthood. No matter how much time passes between visits it is always as if no time has gone at all. She will be the friend that buries me at the end and that tells my children tales of our youth together. She will be the one that always keeps my secrets safe and my accomplishments public.
Rolsa who played high school basketball with me in Wendover and carpooled with me to Jackpot for school and back again. She was the first of us to get her license and she has the heart of gold that Laurie and I lack. If Laurie is fire Rolsa is water. She is cool and calm in the face of strife. She keeps us level headed and our feet on the ground. Rolsa is our warrior monk who reminds us that life is short and precious and should be cherished. She is the last to lose her temper and the first to offer peace. She is the caretaker for her family and she embodies the spirit of hearth and home. Don't ever mistake Rolsa for a shallow pond because still waters run deep and when the wind of her ire is unleashed she is a gale force on the open ocean. Sweet, gentle, loving, caring Rolsa who always reminds me that fire is extinguished by water.
For a long time we were a band of three. Sisters not by blood but by Gods design. Each of us different from the other. Each of us strong where the other was weak and always there to lend our strength to the other when needed. That was until recently when I met Roxanne. I never imagined I'd find a sister in arms in St.Louis. I was resigned to my long distance friendships and content with the many mothers I had met through the mommy board. Then one night at an MNO (moms night out) I met Roxanne. At first I didn't really notice her. She wasn't loud, she wasn't rude, or a drama queen or any of those things that usually make a person stick out. I was there to have fun, mingle with the new moms and try to spend a little time with everyone. I wasn't looking for a fast friend. I wasn't LOOKING and that was the problem. God must have sighed in exasperation at me that night because he gave me another opportunity, another chance, to see the person he had put before me. Thankfully I wasn't a fool twice and I did notice her. I talked to her, I texted her and met her, and hung out with her. I can't tell you for sure how she came to be friend, I think the best friendships are often the ones where they seem to just always have been, no beginning and no end. All I can say is that she is there. Roxanne is has become the air that feeds the fire and gives it life. If your blessed to be her friend she will never desert you. She will listen without judgement, She will give you an ear or two if you need it. Roxanne is constant, steady, and no matter where in this wide world she finds herself she will always find time for the ones she keeps close.
Now we are a band of four. We have each other near and far to cry with, laugh with, rage with. I always liked the number four.
I am a fighter, I am a survivor, and while I may not ever understand anything else about myself than this I know that I do not fight alone. I have my sisters in arms. I have God throughout and at the end.
Where do warriors go when the fighting is at an end? Maybe they just go to their friends and spend their golden years reliving the battles of their youth.
Friday, June 24, 2011
Techno-Wasted
After starting my foodie blog femmefoodiefatale.blogspot.com and working with that editor on the pages i've already got and adding to those pages with transitoinal scenes plus searching the internet for new recipes to try for aformentioned new blog i'm techno-wasted! That's right I'm done for a while. I may not make my June 30th deadline beacause the idea of sitting in front of any form of electronic device just about makes me want to vomit in a technology hangover. I need a break from all things that plug in, turn on, light up, or otherwise connect me in any way other than real life.
I made a list of all the technological thingies that i'm plugged into and realized i'm a technoholic! The online mommy forum, Facebook, Blogspot, Stumbleupon, and the many many many recipe websites and blogs that I read not to mention the online comics!!! It's a wonder I get anything done in my day at all.
Hence forth I will be WORKING more and stumbling, facebooking, and mommy foruming (is that even a word?) less. I need to FOCUS. I think maybe I might be afraid of success because everytime I get close to succeeding my focus scatters and I just quit. I'm determined not to quit. At this point even if the story turns out to be total shite at least I can say I finished it!!!
So now it's time to get writer wasted and join the 12 step program to get unplugged.
I made a list of all the technological thingies that i'm plugged into and realized i'm a technoholic! The online mommy forum, Facebook, Blogspot, Stumbleupon, and the many many many recipe websites and blogs that I read not to mention the online comics!!! It's a wonder I get anything done in my day at all.
Hence forth I will be WORKING more and stumbling, facebooking, and mommy foruming (is that even a word?) less. I need to FOCUS. I think maybe I might be afraid of success because everytime I get close to succeeding my focus scatters and I just quit. I'm determined not to quit. At this point even if the story turns out to be total shite at least I can say I finished it!!!
So now it's time to get writer wasted and join the 12 step program to get unplugged.
Tuesday, June 21, 2011
some advice from an Editor.
yes you read that right I have found a professional editor blog who can help me refine my story. I'm so freaking excited I can barely contain my writer's heart!!!! I'm also extremely glad that I grew up in a house with five sisters and have a very thick hide LOL. Critism thy name is editor LOL.
So some advice from the editor to help me and anyone else become a better writer:
go to the last three people you’ve hurt in your life and ask them to talk to you for as long as they want about how it felt to them. Don’t respond, just listen. Endure the shame.This step is necessary to clean out the interior censor, the one who thinks there’s still time left to protect your reputation. There’s no time left. You’ve already long-since destroyed your reputation with the ones you love, the people who matter most. Welcome to the real world.If you’ve never hurt anyone, put down your keyboard and go apply for sainthood. You are the wrong kind of liar to be a writer.
So I will be making some phone calls later this evening. I'm actually pretty scared to do this because I HATE for people to be mad at me. :(
Spend one day watching children.Children are people confused by their world, without adequate skills to either communicate or function within the social norms of their tribe. Watch a family, preferably of several generations. Take copious notes on how they interact with each other—how they treat one child, how they respond to the child’s efforts to communicate and function, how they communicate with each other about the child, how they communicate with each other with no reference to the child at all. Take notes on how the child attempts or does not attempt to be involved with them. Now take the same notes on the other children, along with notes on why you picked that first child first. Sketch choreographic notes on how the members of this family move around each other in space.Write a scene in which a character is an adult using the child’s tactics, only in adult language and with adult understanding. Read it, and analyze the subtext between the characters. Write it again with a different character. And again with a different character. And again with the same character but a different outcome. And again with the same character but a different outcome.Write it as if it were your one chance in life to communicate what you need to communicate.This step is necessary to teach you compassion for every single character you create.
I'm going to work some more today on editing my current work and building those transition scenes I so desperately need. I'll report back tomorrow on my progress from these two steps.
So some advice from the editor to help me and anyone else become a better writer:
go to the last three people you’ve hurt in your life and ask them to talk to you for as long as they want about how it felt to them. Don’t respond, just listen. Endure the shame.This step is necessary to clean out the interior censor, the one who thinks there’s still time left to protect your reputation. There’s no time left. You’ve already long-since destroyed your reputation with the ones you love, the people who matter most. Welcome to the real world.If you’ve never hurt anyone, put down your keyboard and go apply for sainthood. You are the wrong kind of liar to be a writer.
So I will be making some phone calls later this evening. I'm actually pretty scared to do this because I HATE for people to be mad at me. :(
Spend one day watching children.Children are people confused by their world, without adequate skills to either communicate or function within the social norms of their tribe. Watch a family, preferably of several generations. Take copious notes on how they interact with each other—how they treat one child, how they respond to the child’s efforts to communicate and function, how they communicate with each other about the child, how they communicate with each other with no reference to the child at all. Take notes on how the child attempts or does not attempt to be involved with them. Now take the same notes on the other children, along with notes on why you picked that first child first. Sketch choreographic notes on how the members of this family move around each other in space.Write a scene in which a character is an adult using the child’s tactics, only in adult language and with adult understanding. Read it, and analyze the subtext between the characters. Write it again with a different character. And again with a different character. And again with the same character but a different outcome. And again with the same character but a different outcome.Write it as if it were your one chance in life to communicate what you need to communicate.This step is necessary to teach you compassion for every single character you create.
I'm going to work some more today on editing my current work and building those transition scenes I so desperately need. I'll report back tomorrow on my progress from these two steps.
Friday, June 17, 2011
Only Write the good stuff
Only writing the good stuff seems pretty obvious until you sit down to write. That's when you realize that you really don't want to write this scene because you're thinking of another scene thats more fun and more vivid in your mind, so you're bored, or disinterested in writing the scene before you. If i'm bored writing it it'll probably be boring reading it..that's what I keep telling myself which is why, a year later, i'm still writing the first half of this book. I'm going to buckle down and work on joining the scenes i've written and try to find some joy in doing so but this is where i'm reminded that writing is work it's not ALL fun and games. It's always fullfilling to see a story come together however and I've set myself a deadline of June 30th for the first 25 pages. Why June 30th? Because i'm taking the plunge and submitting it to a writing contest. If it's good enough to be considered for the 1000 dollars prize i'll count myself my on good and on the right track. Otherwise it's back to the drawing board. If I win...well i'll be a 1000 dollars richer and treating my only two critics Ebethteach and Roxanddak to a very nice meal ;) I never think my writing is good enough to win but I always hold out hope that i'm wrong.
So here's to One meeting my deadline and two getting up the courage to enter the Hidden Rivers Arts Awards contest.
So here's to One meeting my deadline and two getting up the courage to enter the Hidden Rivers Arts Awards contest.
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Writing's Hard ya'll!!
I've said it before and i'll say it again and I'll keep saying it till someone stands up and says "Yeah I know this dude!" and we can stand there and eye each other in mutual understanding and solidarity.
No matter how hard it is and how much it breaks my heart I find that I keep coming back to it day after day after day. Like a glutton for punishment if i'm not actively writing i'm thinking about writing. If i'm not thinking about writing i'm reading, which inevitably leads me to thinking about writing. If I were catholic I'd have a name for this neurosis, Self-Flagellation, alas I am not Catholic so i'm just going to have make up a name for my neurosis. How does Writeaholic sound? Meh to predictable. What about Writerisis? Yeah I like that better too. Back to my original post, writing is hard work, it's not JUST about writing, if it were just about writing anyone could do it and let's face it we've all read some pretty bad books in our day. I live in constant fear of being one of those authors. You know the type, they wrote some pretty good stuff in the begining then resting on thier laurels they started to turn out some real crap and fed it to the masses. Of course that crap will make the NY Times best seller list regardless of the fact that everyone knows it's total crap. I don't want to write to write, I want to write to entertain and if i'm bored reading it then how do I expect anyone else to read it?
The hard part isn't writing that part is easy, no the hard part is having an idea, letting it ferment and grow and germinate and reach and unfurl until FINALLY it's all there a fully formed fetus ripe for the birthing. Sometimes that babie's ugly and requires quite a few face lifts to be digestible and sometimes it's ok looking from the start but it's, you know, average. Average is NOT what a writer sets out to be. We are telling stories people!!! You want to pay good money to see a movie that's average? No you don't!! As a matter of fact when you see the trailers if the movie looks average what do you say to yourself? You say "Self i'm not paying 9 bucks to see that average movie i'll wait till it goes to DVD and I can rent it for a buck". No one wants to write an average book and no one wants to watch an average movie. This is what makes writing hard. What seperates an average story from an exceptional story? What makes a story engaging, funny, tragic, sad, in short a story worth reading! I'm still figuring this out, i've been trying to figure it out for decades.
No matter how hard it is and how much it breaks my heart I find that I keep coming back to it day after day after day. Like a glutton for punishment if i'm not actively writing i'm thinking about writing. If i'm not thinking about writing i'm reading, which inevitably leads me to thinking about writing. If I were catholic I'd have a name for this neurosis, Self-Flagellation, alas I am not Catholic so i'm just going to have make up a name for my neurosis. How does Writeaholic sound? Meh to predictable. What about Writerisis? Yeah I like that better too. Back to my original post, writing is hard work, it's not JUST about writing, if it were just about writing anyone could do it and let's face it we've all read some pretty bad books in our day. I live in constant fear of being one of those authors. You know the type, they wrote some pretty good stuff in the begining then resting on thier laurels they started to turn out some real crap and fed it to the masses. Of course that crap will make the NY Times best seller list regardless of the fact that everyone knows it's total crap. I don't want to write to write, I want to write to entertain and if i'm bored reading it then how do I expect anyone else to read it?
The hard part isn't writing that part is easy, no the hard part is having an idea, letting it ferment and grow and germinate and reach and unfurl until FINALLY it's all there a fully formed fetus ripe for the birthing. Sometimes that babie's ugly and requires quite a few face lifts to be digestible and sometimes it's ok looking from the start but it's, you know, average. Average is NOT what a writer sets out to be. We are telling stories people!!! You want to pay good money to see a movie that's average? No you don't!! As a matter of fact when you see the trailers if the movie looks average what do you say to yourself? You say "Self i'm not paying 9 bucks to see that average movie i'll wait till it goes to DVD and I can rent it for a buck". No one wants to write an average book and no one wants to watch an average movie. This is what makes writing hard. What seperates an average story from an exceptional story? What makes a story engaging, funny, tragic, sad, in short a story worth reading! I'm still figuring this out, i've been trying to figure it out for decades.
Tuesday, June 14, 2011
Research????
I need to know more about biblical theology. The problem with that statement is it's theology..which basically means a lot of old dudes who can't agree on any one thing and wrote a bunch of papers on what they believe the bible is saying. Of course everyone contradicts each other and no one agrees so...yeah it makes writing a fictional story about a group of people who are a holdover from the Great Flood a tad bit harder....I need to schedule an appointment with my pastor he's a theological dude maybe he can shed some light on it for me. in the meantime I still have to find something to write about for two hours today..two total hours of writing...it's not easy folks. I mean i can write for two hours but most of it's crap, filler words, that sort of thing. Here's hoping my writers ADD doesn't distract me today...SQUIRREL!
What are the signs that Magnus is in the right or wrong place?
Here's the thing I don't really want there to be "signs" because being a Christian means we live our lives by faith and it extremely rare that we are given any kind of "sign" but today writing exercise is to do just that..so i'm off to go research some signs. I like subtle what do you think of subtle signs?
So here are some signs i've come up with the first is obvious "Stars" people are always looking to the heavens for signs and even Jesus had a special star to herald his birth. Another sign is animals, animals are used often to herald signs such as the white stag, white buffalo, ravens, owls that sort of thing. Stones and trees are used as well so basically anything that occurs naturally in nature. So a sign for Magnus...............I'm going to go with a dog now I just need to decide on a breed. I'm going to write a scene today and try out a chihuahua on the advice of Roxanne. After some research I discovered this breed of dog is decended from Mayan temple dogs called Techichi and those dogs were mute...too bad modern day Chihuahua's aren't. For the purpose of this scene i'm using the Techichi the Mayan temple dog.
What are the signs that Magnus is in the right or wrong place?
Here's the thing I don't really want there to be "signs" because being a Christian means we live our lives by faith and it extremely rare that we are given any kind of "sign" but today writing exercise is to do just that..so i'm off to go research some signs. I like subtle what do you think of subtle signs?
So here are some signs i've come up with the first is obvious "Stars" people are always looking to the heavens for signs and even Jesus had a special star to herald his birth. Another sign is animals, animals are used often to herald signs such as the white stag, white buffalo, ravens, owls that sort of thing. Stones and trees are used as well so basically anything that occurs naturally in nature. So a sign for Magnus...............I'm going to go with a dog now I just need to decide on a breed. I'm going to write a scene today and try out a chihuahua on the advice of Roxanne. After some research I discovered this breed of dog is decended from Mayan temple dogs called Techichi and those dogs were mute...too bad modern day Chihuahua's aren't. For the purpose of this scene i'm using the Techichi the Mayan temple dog.
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