Living La Vida Alpo

Please, please, note the sarcasm.

I don't give a shit how much people make fun of us Wamarvans for freaking out when there's snow.  I don't want it.  You think it's no big deal? You can have it.

Here's Colin looking for a place to pee this morning.  Took him forever, but he finally found one about half an hour later in the corner of my living room.  That's my baby!  Good boy! WHAT A GOOD BOY YOU ARE!

Doing it my way.

Week one of being officially in my own apartment went by in one supersonic, sleep-deprived blur.  But I do remember a few things.  Allow me to impart my hard-earned single-woman wisdom:

1. When a spider marches nonchalantly across your chest on its way across the living room floor and you do nothing but stare at it, you know that a) you're officially home, and b) your lack of screamage says you're growing up all by yourself.
2. Hissing "THERE ARE PEOPLE DOWNSTAIRS!" at a seven-year-old does nothing to deter the screaming, the jumping, the running, and perhaps most of all, the brattitude.
3. People who live in third-floor apartments with a dog are either dumbtards or gluttons for glute workouts.  GUESS WHICH ONE I'M VOTING FOR?
4. Never ever move into your own place without at least one chair.  The toilet does not count.
5. When you're worried about paying the bills, or when your legs have fallen asleep or your back is aching from sitting on the floor, or you're hit all over again with the realization that for the first time in your life, you are truly, honest-to-goodness, on your own, take a look around, remember all the good people in your life that helped you get here, and...

shut the fuck up.  You're doing pretty damn good so far, lady.

Did you say today was MONDAY?

A Special Wish

Happy Father's Day to all,

but especially to the fathers looking for a job, the fathers going it alone, the fathers who haven't seen their kid(s) in awhile, and the fathers who don't quite know their own worth. 

You have a special place in Colin's and my heart.

And Happy Father's Day to the one that's raising my daughter with me.  You're amazing.  Never forget.

Happy Hump Day!

Tangerine's Sweet Dream

Momsie has three Cavalier King Charles Spaniels.  She also has three kids. 

There's Tangie, the oldest one, who's deaf, neurotic, and has a history of biting people who startle her.  There's Rocky, the middle one, an absolute sweetheart who turns into a moper when the other two idiots impinge upon his territory.  The youngest is Guinness, the smart as heck goofball. 

And then there's me, the oldest one, who's deaf, neurotic, and has a history of biting people.  There's my sister Lara, an absolute sweetheart... Oh, you get the idea.

Last night Momsie paged me needing a ride to the emergency vet clinic.  Tangie was having trouble breathing, and her stomach was all hard and bloated.  She's had advanced heart disease and hasn't been well for awhile, on five medications, including *snorfle* beef-flavored Viagra. 

We zoomed down to the clinic with a wheezing dog, her eyes wide as saucers and staring at us for comfort and communication.  We came home with her in a cardboard box.

She was beautiful. And even more beautiful for the happiness she brought my mother.

Sleep well, sweet girl.

Woof-cha shoutout

Recently, America's Dog Whisperer, Mark German, came to town and hosted several different workshops.  Mom invited me, but me being the snooty oldest kid I am with my own shit and my own life, I ignored her invitation.

Her being the awesome Momsie she is, she ignored my snub and got me a book of his autographed anyway.  Today when she was over at my house she said casually, "Oh, did you see his website?"

Noooo... and I don't care...

Well, lickety split, she shoved my ass upstairs to the office and made me pull the website up and click on the "Testimonials" page.  She pointed at a picture of some butt-ugly black dog named Shadow.  Woop-de-doo.

Then I scrolled down and suddenly peed on my keyboard.

It's my favorite Aunt Joyce out of Phoenix!! There's even a pic of her on there.  Woo-hoo!  The first time I see my aunt in 12 years, and it's online. 

Boy, I may be a terrible daughter, but I'm an even suckier niece.  But, but, but BUUUTT... I'm a stoked sucky niece, yo.

Sick days

shouldn't be this nice.  Or else I'd be feeding Leah germs every day.

(Taken with my blurry Treo)

Toilet water is the least of my worries...

The nice thing about having a face like this is that you can chew up your Mom's glasses, her hearing aid, and her underwear, destroy three pairs of shoes and one brand-new set of slippers, rip up the carpet, scratch up the glass doors, growl at the nice lady next door, terrorize the cats and steal their food, unearth and chew through the contents of a (disgusting) bathroom wastebasket, and at the end of the day, all you do is pull out that little Love Me Do face and you're Mama's little boy again.

Comes in quite handy, yep.

Don't mess with THIS puppy.