I Have A Complex About Not Having Thumbs

I Have A Complex About Not Having Thumbs

Hi everyone! Thor the Pup here. This is my mom’s blog, but she’s letting me guest post here every once in awhile.

A little bit about me: I’m a one-year-old Pekingese mix (Pomeranian, maybe?), and I’ve been part of the family for about two months now. Mom and Dad don’t know much about my past, except for that I came from New Mexico and lived in Colorado Springs with my foster mom and dad for about a month before Mom and Dad adopted me. My adopted name was Macdonald, but Mom and Dad thought Thor was way cooler. I agree; it makes me feel tough, you know?

Macs are where it’s at. PCs are for peasants.

I love meeting new people and pups, chasing my ball, and snuggling under the blankies near my parents’ feet while they sleep. And MOM. MOM IS LIFE. I’m a little clingy to my mom, but let’s be real; she kind of loves it.

Anywho, Mom said I could guest post here about anything I wanted, but it turns out she’s a liar (MOM I STILL LOVE YOU THOUGH). I wanted to post a scathing editorial on the Kavanaugh hearings, but Mom said that might be a little heavy for my first post, so instead I’m writing about something that really gets my hackles up: my thumbs, or lack thereof.

I love my parents, but for some reason they find it absolutely hilarious to make jokes about how I don’t have thumbs. They’re always saying stuff like “Thor would help make dinner, but he doesn’t have thumbs” or “Thor, folding laundry is only for people with thumbs.” Stuff like that.

You know, I never thought about not having thumbs until they pointed it out. I can do plenty of things with my paws, like grab my ball…and that’s all I can think of, but whatever. That’s all I felt the need to do, until Mom and Dad pointed out all the things I CAN’T do. Now I’m all insecure about my thumb-less paws.

How am I supposed to bake a soufflé or handwrite a letter or play UNO?? I can’t! It really limits my ability to learn new hobbies other than ball-chasing and licking my rear. And being constantly reminded of the fact that I don’t have thumbs makes me worried that I’m a dog (GASP) and not a people like Mom and Dad always act like I am.

Mom and Dad are great, but I’m gonna need them to lay off the no-thumbs jokes before I lose it.

I have an idea!! Every time you see my mom, will you make fun of her for not having a tail? I think that’ll show her. Meanwhile, I’m gonna learn how to bake a soufflé sans thumbs. Let me know if you have tips.

With Lots of Treats,

Thor the Dog

PS – Guys I have my own Insta!! You can follow me at @smalldogthor.

Life in Wyoming vs. Denver

Life in Wyoming vs. Denver

Here we go….the first “real” post on the rebooted A Cup of Tay. I feel like there’s a lot of pressure to perform, so be gentle on me, guys.

For those of you that are my IRL friends or follow me on the Facebooks or the Instagrams, you know that I’ve lived with my husband in Laramie, Wyoming, for the last two years, and moved to Denver about three months ago. While I’ve lived in a big city before (college in Philly) and have spent a lot of time in Denver, living in the middle of a city NOT as a college student is very different than living in a small college town in Wyoming. Or at least that’s my experience so far.

Some of the key differences I’ve observed from my short tenure as a Denverite:

In Wyoming, people will literally stop traffic to let you in if you’re merging onto the interstate. In Denver, if you cut someone off in traffic in a PARKING LOT, they will loudly yell the F-word at you before throwing their lit cigarette out the car window at you. Or flip you off. Denver people love doing that almost as much as they love rooting for the Broncos.

In Wyoming, if you’re trying to parallel park, there’s a good chance someone nearby will spot you and help you park. In Denver, if you park poorly in your apartment complex in your very large truck that is very hard to park, someone will leave a friendly note on your car that says “You need parking lessons. It’s BAD.” I didn’t know parking lessons existed. Apparently they do.

In Wyoming (and especially in Laramie), if you need anything that you can’t find at the local Wal-Mart (or if you’re lucky, Kmart), you’re out of luck. In Denver, you can’t swing your arms around without hitting literally any store you can think of en masse. Seriously. I needed to buy a desk for our apartment and I typed “Target” into Google Maps and five came up, all 10 minutes away from where I live. It’s almost choice overload, I tell ya.

In Denver, you have to listen to the radio to get the traffic report (like you would the weather report) to know how long it will take you to get across the street. In Wyoming, a traffic jam only happens when a herd of wild turkeys decide to cross the road or when a semi truck blows over because of Wyoming’s gale-force winds (yes, this happens!).

In Denver, you can find about any type of cuisine you want, including cuisine for any diet you might be following. I had a paleo muffin the other day while out and about. It tasted like blueberry chalk but it was the novelty of the thing, ya know? In Wyoming, they sell shirts that says “vegetarian is an old Indian word meaning ‘bad hunter.'” That says about all you need to know about Wyoming’s understanding of alternative diets.

In Denver, they have a chain of gas stations called “Stinker.” I kid you not, the mascot is a skunk. In Wyoming, they have a classily-named chain called Kum & Go. I need not explain further. And I cannot decide which is weirder/worse.

So far, I’m loving Denver and Brandon is learning to love it…he’ll get used to all the people. I hope. Have you ever moved to a new city? How was it different than your old city? Share your sassy observations with me. Oh and if you’re from Denver/Wyoming, has anyone ever thrown a lit cigarette at you? Wondering if I’m just REALLY bad at driving in parking lots.

Yes, A Cup of Tay is Back!

For those of you that have known me for awhile, you’ll remember the days of old when the original A Cup of Tay was a thing. I dished out sassy posts weekly, and then less often. I shut down A Cup of Tay temporarily, then brought it back…and eventually, I shut A Cup of Tay down for good.

There was crying. There was complaining. There was rioting in the streets (okay, maybe not). The point is, people weren’t happy about it.

And to be honest, I wasn’t either. I shut down A Cup of Tay because I felt like I’d reached a writing rut. Blogging no longer felt natural or exciting, and I was struggling to put together my trademark humorous content for readers. So I called it quits.

Thinking maybe I just needed to shift focus, I started an alternative blog last year, Grace and Grace Alone, where I planned to blog about my faith. The problem was, I wasn’t feeling any more inspired to write about my faith than I was about anything else, and blogging about just faith-related topics felt too restrictive.

Lately, I’ve been feeling the itch to write again. I miss it – a lot! During a call with one of my best friends a few weeks ago, I could her her sister yelling in the background as per usual, “Where’s A Cup of Tay? When are you starting A Cup of Tay again?”

Usually I laugh and tell her it’s a thing of the past, but this time it got me thinking. Yes, it’s a little weird to revive a blog like 3 times. But it’s also silly not to give the people what they want (ha) and to pick something back up that I enjoy.

I feel like a lot has changed since last time A Cup of Tay made its appearance, so I’m going to start with a clean slate, not uploading any of my old posts. Maybe I’ll slip one or two in every once in awhile (Brandon wrote like a four-part story of our relationship, for example, and it’s freaking adorable). I’m going to blog about what I love blogging about, which is whatever the heck I want. But really though, you’ll probably find posts on married life, my faith, Thor the Dog (he may write some posts of his own!), my weight loss journey, and anything else I feel like I can make humorous enough to share.

For those of you who have become friends with me since I closed down A Cup of Tay, thanks for reading. And for those of you who have, in your own way, cried, complained, or yelled through a phone at me to keep writing, thank you.