I was driving home from the doctor today when I saw a couple walking their Pitbull. I have nothing against Pitbulls (they are ridiculously cute as puppies) and I know they have bad reputations because of the owners who breed them and teach them to fight and to be mean. That's all on the owner, not the dog. But, what gets me is that for the most part, it seems that their owners are so stereotypical. How often do you see the Ken and Barbie types walking a Pitbull? How often do you see Pitbulls playing with kids in a yard in the suburbs? I know I'm bordering on being racist here, but stereotypes are, well, stereotypes for a reason. The couple walking the dog today just looked liked punks: he was all baggy shorts and wide-brimmed baseball hat turned to the side. Her outfit was leaning toward hoochy mama status. Hey, they could be the nicest people in the world. But, they just fit the stereotype of Pitbull owners. It's not fair that the dogs get the reputations when it's their owners who are (most likely) those that should be reviled.
Oooh, that just sounds so bitchy. Oh well, I'm in a mood I guess. The day is getting drearier and so is my mood.
Another musing: I was at the doctor, as I said, but it was a new doctor so I was doing the meet-and-greet, here's-my-family-history-of-diseases, here's-your-list-to take-to-the-lab-for-blood-tests. I like the doctor, by the way. She's young, which I like (but no so young that she seems like the bumbling idiot interns on Grey's Anatomy). She was easy to talk to and she seems efficient. So, what I'm getting at here is that in telling her about myself, I told her that I have been living in CA for almost 5 years. Five years! Yikes! I can't believe it. As a couple, my husband and I have not lived in any one place for that long. And I don't think either of us thought we would be in CA for more than 3 years. I recently mused about this on another blog (Hi, Suse!) and have been thinking about it for a while. Hearing myself say "5 years" kinda threw me today. Like admitting you're an alcoholic. Okay maybe it's not that severe. More like last week or so when I admitted I am a shopaholic! It's not a failure, per se, but it's just not what I had planned. Life is funny like that, I guess. It keeps moving forward and sometimes you just have to be like Dory in Finding Nemo and "just keep swimming."