Mans Best Friend

Alex,



It wasn’t my own plan for you to come into my life, but God had a bigger plan for the both of us. I went to Teterboro Animal Shelter three years ago to donate blankets, with no intention of bringing home a friend. I was walking up and down the endless isles of animals just like you who were looking for a home and a second chance at life. But they weren’t just like you, because you were different… so different that you made me stop right in my tracks.


You are a Pit-bull; 85 solid lbs of a Pit-bull to be exact. In fact, I looked twice to double check the breed; wondering if they had mistakenly brought in a wild bear. But it wasn’t your size that made me stop, it was your aura. Inside the 85 lbs that you were, and underneath your beautiful black and white spotted coat, was a beautiful soul bursting out of its seams. The sign was loud in clear in red bolded letters: “DO NOT PUT HANDS INSIDE OF CAGE.”


I didn’t think twice when I read these words. A normal person would assume the odds were against them in making it out in one piece. I found a hole big enough in the cage to let me take a chance. I lowered my palm slowly into your cage, but before I could get close enough to touch you, you had embraced me first. You rested your big head on my small little palm, and looked up at me. Your eyes were dark brown, and so very kind. Chills ran through me as we locked eyes. You didn’t take your eyes off me, and I didn’t take my eyes off you for minutes on end. I knew then in that moment that this was sacred. I had to have you.



It took a solid month to adopt you, with interrogating questions from the shelter such as “why do you want a dog with cropped ears?” With the horrible reputation your breed has, they must have wondered if I had plans on fighting you. Their assumption was whoever owned you before must have tried to make you a fighter, and you weren’t what they trained you out to be.



That’s because you weren’t born to fight, you were born to love. It always hurt me when I would look at you; wondering where you’ve came from, or where you’ve been. I wonder who had hurt you in your seven years before you came into my life. Knowing someone hurt you, hurt me twice as much. And when I had those thoughts, I hugged you a little harder and longer than usual.

The shelter even asked me if I had any pets. Because of course, with the horrible stereotype of Pitt-bulls, they had assumed you were dog aggressive. I have pets. I have two pugs. But, I lied. They told me the ASPCA would come to my house to check. I said that would be just fine. And as soon as I said that, I put a call into my mom. I told her “Listen, don’t be mad. I fell in love with a dog. He’s not dog aggressive; in fact I know he wouldn’t hurt a thing. So, hide the pugs.” [Click.] And I was right, the three of you were the best of friends.


You taught me so many things. First, you taught me to fight for what you love. But the most important thing of all that you taught me was unconditional love. You followed me into every room I went into. Actually, I don’t think there was one time at home that I didn’t pee in solitude. If I walked a simple three feet, you walked them too. And if I turned around after those three little feet, as did you. Finally, you taught me you need no words to love. It amazed me how an animal could not utter a single word, yet could love and be loved so deeply.



It was your eyes. There was something in them, something that was felt. It was in them when we first locked eyes, and it never left. It encompassed all heart, soul, kindness, peacefulness. To be honest, I felt that you were my guardian angel. I kept those thoughts to myself, not thinking anybody could believe a dog could be much more. Until my friend said to me, “his eyes are…human-like.” And it was then I knew that I wasn’t alone in the great depth that I thought of you.



I remember pulling up to my house and from a far, I saw you laying on my bed..yet another endless night of you waiting up for me to come home. From then on, when I would come home late at night, I knew your eyes found mine even through the darkness.

I’ve always loved all animals, and I love my pugs too. But you were something special. You weren’t just the throw-the-toy kind of dog that makes you laugh and cuddles with you. Actually, you were too big to cuddle. But you laid as close as you could. And you didn’t even kiss much, either. But you loved much. What made you special was the feeling of love you emitted, and the stare of protection you gave me for three blessed years.


You got cancer shortly after I had adopted you. I’ll never forget coming home to a pool of blood, and even in that pool of blood, you walked towards me as strong as a horse and gave me a kiss. They had told me you had 3 months to live. Well, you showed them, didn’t you? You lived longer than 3 months, you lived 3 years. At one point, you were called the “Miracle dog” at Oradell Animal Hospital, being tumor-free for over a year. The only miracle there was, was the miracle of you in my life. Medication didn’t cure you, I know love did…as it cured me, too.

 Three years later passed, and June 7th, 2010 came. You were weaker now, and I knew it. We got up in the morning for a walk. You couldn’t make it up the hill at first, and I told you, “Alex, its okay, we’ll go back inside.” You wouldn’t budge. It took you ten minutes, but you made it up that hill. You amazed me.


I had spent the day with you, going for what would be your last car ride, as you propped your black and white nose out of the car to breathe your last breath of fresh air. We stopped at my dad’s office too, and you and I ate lunch together on his floor. My dad, the biggest neat freak in the world, didn’t care at all as you slobbered all over. He too, knew you were leaving us soon.


I came back from our school field trip, and you were lying on the downstairs floor with my mom and her friend Jack. We locked eyes then for what would be the last time. I saw your pain so much it was as if it ran through me. In that moment, I was weak. I kneeled down in a quick embrace and grazed your head. I went upstairs to go to sleep, and set my alarm for 7am to spend the morning with you, because I knew it would be your last before the doctor saw you. Well, the morning never came for you, because you passed away before it. All alone.


I will never forgive myself for that. I know if I was sick, you wouldn’t ever leave my side. You wouldn’t take your eyes off me, or let them close to sleep. It pains me beyond words to know you took your final breaths alone. I never got to say goodbye. So if you can hear these words please know this: From the beginning…I didn’t save you, you saved me. And up until the end…I was a better person, because I was loved by you. Thank you for being my best friend, for your protection and everlasting love that has now forever encompassed my heart and soul.


“Dogs are the most amazing creatures, because they give unconditional love. They are the role model for being alive."


The right side of the bed is still yours. I love you.


- Nicolette

Eulogy to my Grandpa

A quote by Ann Landers: “The true measure of an individual is how he treats a person who can do him absolutely no good.”

You were a class act. A neatly buttoned down crisp white shirt with pens and business cards packed tightly in your pocket. Your belt, with your pressed pants by Grandma (and -- your blue and black socks, because she would get her colors mixed up). Your hands would rest in your pockets, until of course -- you saw someone you knew; and then they would stretch out with open arms. Or, even if you saw someone you didn’t know, because in your eyes, everybody was your friend. Your grey hair was neatly combed back, your glasses resting on that Italian nose that I love. Your big eyes, and your even bigger smile. You were a Veteran. You served our country and our family as one in the same: with dignity, honor, and respect. Thank you for that, soldier. You served us well. You were Michael Ottilio. You were my Grandfather. You made me so proud.

It was simple to make you happy. A bulldozer, a home cooked Italian meal, your sweetheart Rosie, and a yard sale. You would bring home countless pieces of copper, road signs, books, furniture. When people think of Michael Ottilio, they think of his copper room. Grandma would joke that one day there wouldn’t be enough room to walk around their house. To you, Grandpa, there was no such thing as “JUNK”. You saw the beauty in everything.

I don’t think there is ONE bad thing that anybody in this room could say about you. I couldn’t think of a thing. The closest I could get to a flaw, was that you would eat all the food at family parties. Don’t worry Grandpa, you passed down your appetite to me. I’ll take it from here.

Ever since I was a little girl, I knew you were something special; when you let me drive a bulldozer when I was 11. But it was only after I grew older, that I figured you out; and I now believe in angels on Earth. You were a remarkable human being, a gift to mankind. You lit up a room. I wonder if you knew, you lit up lives too. Out of all the gifts you’ve given me, the best one has always been you: kind, warm, and selfless.

And as I grew older, I didn’t think it was possible to be inspired by you anymore, but it was. I would admire you and Grandma: Michael and Rose; the two people who lived their life in love, and never forgot how to love each other. I watched a video of you the other day, and in the mere 1:28 seconds that it was, that was enough for you to describe every inch of your love for Grandma. You spoke of the war, and you said, “She waited for me for 34 years!” (I corrected you – you mean months, Grandpa) “Oh yeah, 34 months! Well, it felt like years!”. Then you described Grandma when you reunited, “That red dress, and that long hair– WOOOO! Look out!” Then you shook your head, and your eyes set on Grandma as you admired her. “I love her, not because she’s good to me. But because she’s good to all.” You both were.

I’d watch the way you held her hand, the twinkle you’d still get in your eyes even after 63 years of marriage. Nothing speaks more of a couple who are truly happy and in love, when people who are around them can feel their love too. And as I was awe struck, you’d chime in with humor tell me, “Nicolette! Make sure you marry a man with a big nose like me!” It wasn’t your big nose, Gramps. It was your big heart.

My fondest memories are you pulling up to my house in your tan station wagon, my eyes lighting up because I knew Grandma & Grandpa were here. I’d run as fast as my little legs could take me and straight into your arms, where I always felt so safe. And then I’d hear your contagious and infectious laugh. And there has never been anything more genuine that I’ve ever witnessed in my 22 years, as it was when you could see a soul shine through a smile.

Because of you, I talk to “strangers”. Because of you, I eat my spaghetti and meatballs, and a lot of it.. Because of you, I now find the beauty in the simplest of things. It was a privilege to be your granddaughter, but much more so, it was a BLESSING to be loved by you.

On your last day on Earth, your aid, Paul, joked that he would let me know if he “saw Grandpa walking around.” It was then that it dawned on me, and I said “You know something, Paul? I wouldn’t be surprised if his spirit came up to you with a nice, firm hand shake and said, 'Ya did a great job, Paul. Ya did a great job!'"

I consider myself so so lucky, to have spent your final minutes with you. I put my hand on your chest, I listened to your heart -- until I could listen no more. It was then that I whispered in your ear..

“Grandpa, YOU did a Great job.”

THE TRUTH ABOUT THE OIL SPILL

"Never doubt that a small group of thoughtful, committed citizens can change the world. Indeed, it is the only thing that ever has."- Margaret Mead

This turtle cannot speak up. Animals have no voice. But we have a voice. And this is mine.

I went to visit the Gulf in early August with a group called "Be the Change", affiliated with Kean University where I go to school. I went with an amazing human being and professor, Norma Bowe. Eight other inspiring students came with me. Most of us had never met before, but we had one goal: to help the world in whatever way we possibly could. These students had guts. It is a privledge to now call them my friends.

We didn't go down volunteering with any organization specifically. WHY? Because you can't volunteer! (Unless you work directly for the All Mighty BP). When you google "volunteer for BP", you get directly sent to BPs website, where they lead you to believe that you can sign up, and they will then call you when you are needed. I will tell you right now, it is a phone call you will never recieve.

So, being that we did not volunteer with any specific organization, we drove 19 hours as concerned citizens. We were explorers of the devestation. We did not make appointments, we did not WAIT for someone to call us. We just - went.

The things I am about to tell you are FACTS (been there, seen it, lived it) that you will not see on the news. These are facts that Obama will not acknowledge. Non the less, they are facts. And if I am on the government hit list for what I am about to dish out, so be it.

* "It's dangerous to be right when the government is wrong."
- Voltaire

Thanks Voltaire. Here is the danger:

• We visited the Alabama Coastal Foundation. The woman we spoke with was a wonderful, caring, compassionate person about the oceans. This foundation knows the ocean like the back of their hands. Yet, BP wants no help from them.
• We woke up on a beautiful morning in New Orleans, ready to visit the "Wildlife Refuge." It had turned out that it changed locations from being in the heart of New Orleans, to a new location an hour away. Well, that didn't stop us. The only thing was that we could not find the address to this so called Refuge. Luckily enough, we had a connection to a reporter (bless her soul), who has search engines that you and I as "normal" people, do not. It even took her 40 minutes to find this disclosed location. It was not located on google, nor was it even shown in the town map. Non the less, we found it. Ha! Our GPS did not even pick up the street address. This was completley hidden from search engines. WHY?
• We find out that BP bought out search engines (google, ask.com, yahoo, etc) to hide the truth from people like me who want to disclose what is really going on. Well, tough shit. We put in the cross street, and off we went.
• Well, well, it looked like the street existed after all. After going down a discreat road of white buildings with no names on it, we find it. This building was tiny, and filled with a bunch of fancy cars that glistened the parking lot. 
• We walked in, offering to volunteer (knowing that was a joke, but to ask none the less). We were told there was nothing we could do. As I was in here, I was paying very close attention to my surroundings. The door opened as a worker came out, and I peaked my head inside. To my estimation, there were at least 60 cages: EMPTY. There were tops 20 birds there, crying. This Refuge is the headquarters for Louisiana, Alabama, and Florida. Why was it so small? Where are the birds?
• It is small because there ARE no birds. The birds are dead. It is my opinion that they are euthanizing most of the birds, and attempting to save "some" for dates when the media gets to visit and report. We left discouraged and with heartache. Yet we felt triumphant. We had seen the unseen.
• We traveled 1 mile from the so called Refuge, to a Piggly Wiggly; Louisiana's supermarket. We asked the owner if he knew that there was a Refuge in his town. He said that he had absolutley no idea that it even existed. Scary. If what they are doing is such a GOOD thing, why is it so hidden? These people are 1 mile away from the HEADQUARTERS of the bird Refuge, and yet, they are clueless.
• A lot of what we did during our trip was to interview people from Alabama and Louisiana; truck drivers, store owners, everyday people. One woman had told us that she had watched the BP commercial (where they say their doing everything they can do, yada yada yada). She said it was like a photo shoot. As soon as the cameras left, as did the workers. It lasted a total of 20 minutes.
• We went to a beach in Louisiana, and we spoke to a man who was very friendly. We asked him if he thought this beach was safe. "Ah, sure it is. Look, you can't see any oil." We had a glimmer of hope. Until we find out, that the beach that this poor man said was safe and that people are swimming in, is just a disguise. BP put in a potent chemical to bring the oil from the surface, down to the ocean bed. You may not be able to see the oil, but it's there. Infact, a fisherman had found a dead fish and cut it open. He investigated the eggs of the fish. Sure enough, the eggs were filled with oil, and the chemical that hides the oil. Sickening.
• We find out that many BP workers are staying at a Holiday Inn. Off we go. Similiarly to the Refuge, this Holiday Inn was not found on google or our GPS. We found the cross road thanks to our reporter. It was set back in a shopping center not visible to the highway, and brand spankin new. It had only been open for two months. It was as if this Holiday Inn was made for them. The man at the front desk told us that BP is booked here for 3 years in 80 rooms, leaving just 10 available rooms for people like "you and me". Well, if people like you and me were able to stay here with BP, then they wouldn't have turned down Newleyweds to get married in their banquet hall. In the dining room of this Holiday Inn (which looked like a 5 star hotel, and is not known to be one), it had two quotes on the wall. One quote was: The secret to happiness isn't doing what one likes, it's liking what one does. The second quote was: The secret to success is half luck, half brains. Is it just me, or are those quotes really...uninspiring? To me, the quotes are brain washing. When a BP worker sits down to eat, and they feel bad about what their doing, all they have to do is look up at the wall that shines bright and remind themselves that the secret to happiness isn't doing what one likes. Ah, thanks for the reminder. Bon appetite.
• The last day of the trip, we went to another beach on the Gulf coast. We see three BP workers hard at work with a SHOVEL AND A ZIP LOCK BAG. There were no big ships that you see in commercials. There were no high-tech technological devices here. There were three men, with their handy dandy zip lock bags and shovels. The coast guard shows up, and takes a picture of these three men. The next week, it is on a cover of a magazine stating how CLEAN THIS BEACH IS! Well, we were there. The beach was covered in oil. Lie, lie, lie.

"With the ongoing reopening of Gulf fisheries, we're excited that fishermen can go back to work and Americans can confidently and safely enjoy Gulf seafood once again," Obama said.
HA-HA-HAAAA. Of course Americans can eat the seafood. If they want to die.

Here are some links that display the truth. Of course they are not advertised or on the news, but non the less, they exist. I encourage you to click:
http://blog.al.com/live/2010/08/oil_washes_up_on_baldwin_count.html

A Louisiana woman exposes BP:
PART 1: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gznb_kryit0
PART 2: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fxH5uAK1A3g

I am not here to persuade anyone. I am here to tell you what I have seen for myself. I hope it's not as bad as I think. I hope I'm wrong. But, seeing is believing.

They aren't cleaning this up. They're covering it up. It's all about the dollar sign.
God bless the Gulf.

I LOVE

I was hiking on a nature trail close to my home, and came across "I LOVE" etched in deeply on this wooden bridge. What intrigued me the most, is nothing followed after these words. It was simply just... "I LOVE." This inspired me so much, because it then became so obvious to me. Nothing NEEDS to follow after those words. We always feel like we need to finish the sentence. I love: (a person, a thing, a place, a time). Although those are all beautiful things, sometimes its enough to just love. Just, because. Whoever wrote this, lived their life in love.

 Not for a reason, but reason enough.

NO H8 CAMPAIGN

"Holding anger is a poison...It eats you from inside...

We think that by hating someone we hurt them...

But hatred is a curved blade...

and the harm we do to others...

we also do to ourselves..."

Simple. And to the point.
Yet, its a concept that many of us do not grasp.
Lets practice LOVE.
It's free.




- NO H8 CAMPAIGN
KIM  KARDASHIAN

IGNITE THE CHANGE

This blog came to life out of insomnia, but the title of it came out of pure coincidence. I am a person who really likes coincidences and celebrates them. I don't think that anything is truly what society coins a "coincidence", but rather you being on track with your desire and wants with the universe.

 I was at my friend Jannels house, who I nick name Juliet because of her wide range of vocabulary that seems as though its from ages ago. She calls me her kindred soul. Thanks Jannel.

 I was staring at her fridge, as I do quite often; a growling appetite that stays with me throughout the course of my day. Before I opened the fridge a variety of magnetic words were staring at me. They wanted me to play. And play, I did.


I constructed a sentence quickly and without hesitation. That sentence was:


Live today with love. Ignite the change.
It stared at me, and I stared back.


"I love this." I said to Jannel.
"Me too. Its awesome."

She took a picture, but was hesitant on what color to edit it with. She finally decided on the color purple: the color of passion. It was fitting. My words were now an art piece. We smiled.

And that was how this blog was born.

But what does ignite the change mean?
Everybody talks about change. Its cliche. Its only cliche becase everybody talks about it, but few do something about it. You have to ignite it, which by definition means: to light the fire. Light the fire on the things you want to change. I will save you a lot of time and trouble by telling you right now that you can't change a person. (And thats okay).
But the most powerful thing you can do is to change yourself. Change has a negative conotation. We are afaid of change; its different, its out of our comfort zone. Change is a new place, a new relationship, a new scene.

I am here to tell you that change is a beautiful thing. Do not fear it. Take it in. Keep the great things about you, the things that make you who you are. Change what you can do without; the things that may drag you down and prevent you from becoming your full potential. The great thing about it is that its not hard to do without the negative things in your life. Yes, I said it: its not hard.

Happiness is a decision.

Once you make the decision in your mind and you are clear and devoted to this decision, you can begin the change. You then give your heart and soul into all the good there is in you, and you will watch the good expand, as the negative quickly slip away.

When you change that, you change yourself.
And by changing and becoming a better version of you,
you change the world.

6:38am

Hello world.


It's 6:38am.

At this time, most people are sleeping; maybe having a nightmare. At this time, some are getting ready to go to work. Hopefully they love their job, and it’s worth waking up for. And then theres that other person out there, his name is probably Bob. Right now he's shutting off his alarm clock and muttering "fuck" under his breath. Bob needs to get a new job.

At this time, it’s a different time in another part of the world, and people could be doing anything: meditating on a beautiful meadow as the sun sets, getting in a car accident, sitting down for dinner and saying grace, writing someone a birthday card, writing someone a belated birthday card, (like I sometimes do, a general apology to all my friends & family), flipping through TV channels that consume our lives, breaking up with someone, smiling at a "stranger", getting diagnosed with a disease, listening to that annoying tutorial on safety & guidelines before you take off on your flight, planting a flower, planting an idea.

At this time someone has just died. And someone was just born.

To the deceased: I hope your time here was well fulfilled. Wherever you may go now, I wish you happy travels.

To the newborns: Welcome to the world. It’s as great as you make it.

At this time, my time, I am laying in my bed as my pugs snore. August 8th, 2010 was a night I didn’t sleep. It was during these hours as I lay thinking about everything few and far between, that I decided to bring my thoughts to life. This is technologies excuse for a journal.

My mind is my friend; as it is yours. It is a companion to keep you wondering, guessing, answering, questioning.


From my mind to yours,

Good morning.