all i want for christmas is my dog toy back

“Mmmm, what is this?? Whatever it is, it sure is delicious!”

“Seriously, we’ve gotta get some of these for home!”

“I. Am. NOT. Amused.”

 

monday, monday

I was planning to look for a job today, but then Milo and I started a series of impromptu staring contests, and let me tell you, he’s nobody’s fool. He locks onto you with a steely gaze that says “I am the master, and you are going down.” Either that or “I want to lick your nose!” Still, I won every time, and not just because I was the only participant who had any idea what was going on. Then I fed him apple slices and he zoomed around the room like a dog possessed before falling on his side and pushing himself in backwards circles with his front paws, like he always does when he’s feeling a bit whimsical.

I did manage to do some spring cleaning, since the 70-degree sunshine really highlights how slovenly one becomes during the dark winter months. It’s amazing how new and shiny things look once they’ve lost that dull layer of dust.

And I can’t believe I keep forgetting to mention this, but my old college roommate Christine is getting married this June and has asked me to be her maid of honor. Of course I said yes. Christine is getting married! I’ll admit, I guess I don’t spend a lot of time thinking about weddings, because it took me a few days before I remembered that being the maid of honor means you actually have duties and responsibilities to perform. I was thinking about what I need to do (namely, buy a book that tells me what I need to do), when my stomach dropped as I realized, “Oh. Shit. This means I have to give a speech.” I hate giving speeches. I’ll do it, but I hate it. At least I have some time to write it. Because when it comes to giving impromptu speeches, I am The Worst. Total deer in the headlights. With all eyes on me, my mind goes blank, unless I already know what I’m going to say. But now that I’ve got time to prepare, I can plan to stand up at the reception and tell everyone about how Christine and I once went to a Florida-Florida State game in the Swamp and blithely sat in the middle of the visitor section clad in orange and blue, throwing out the Gator Chomp in the middle of the Tomahawk Chop. Or how jealous I was (and still am) of her ability to stay up until 3 a.m. writing a paper and then wake up at 7 a.m. totally refreshed and ready to go (bitch). And how she may look sweet and innocent, but she once tried to cram an Oreo down my throat using brute force. Really. I’ve got the picture to prove it. Oh, wait…actually, I just found the picture, and it looks like I’m the one trying to force her to eat the Oreo. Well, hey, how can one NOT want to eat a cookie? I’m just saying. I was simply helping her accept the fact that she really did want to eat it. Because that’s what friends do. Right, Chris? Aren’t you so, so glad you asked me to be your right-hand woman? I thought so.

 

here it is, your moment of zen

I still don’t have Internet at home, and probably won’t for another week or so. This means that the only Internet time I have is at work. Thus, I’m taking a quick break from bashing my head into my padded cube wall to say that I’m hoping to be back online soon. Until then I’ll be hanging out at home with Milo and the way-too-small royal blue sweatshirt he’s currently sporting to keep him toasty warm (or ate least the small part of his torso that it covers). Adi recently told me that she didn’t realize Milo was so damn cute, so here it is, your moment of Zen:

 

time management

Is it Wednesday, already? Where does the time go? I spent a very fast weekend in Chicago drinking beer and kamikaze shots with the Chicago Gator Club on Saturday (oh, and watching the Gators beat the Dawgs, too) and wandering through an amazing photography exhibit at the Chicago Art Institute on Sunday. I’ve been to Chicago a million times, and I always love it. Now that I’m back I’m swamped with life as usual, which precludes me from updating this blog. Heck, I didn’t even have time to dress Milo up in a ridiculous Halloween costume and riddle him with shame. That being said, I’m going to sign off now to watch Waking Life. Hey, it’s all about priorities, right? It looks like everything else will have to wait until next time.

 

riding in cars with dogs

So I decided to take Milo with me when I ran out to Taco Bell tonight to satisfy my craving for fountain soda. For some reason fountain soda is like crack to me lately, and I have to have it immediately whenever the urge strikes (and no, the canned and bottled stuff just won’t do, and no, I don’t know why). Anyway, I thought Milo could use a little excitement, so I put him in the car and took off. Now, usually I pack him in his kennel on car rides, but this time I decided to let him sit in the passenger seat since we were just running out and back. He, however, wasn’t so keen on this idea, as he stumbled drunkenly around while I drove, shooting me baffled looks while trying to climb into my lap. Eventually he settled down while we were in the drive-thru, although still shooting me wary looks of confusion. I pulled up to the speaker and ordered a large soda, the first time in my entire 28 years I have ever done so (I can usually barely finish a 12-ounce can). I drove home, pulled into the garage, grappled with my bucket of Diet Coke (large is seriously large), and turned to tell Milo we were home. Well, apparently he had had a Zen experience while on the drive back, because he was now lazily lolling about in the passenger seat; when he heard my voice, he turned nonchalantly and yawned right in my face. I turned the car off and got out, yet he merely looked at me like, “You go ahead. I just want to finish up my meditation session. Ommmmmm.” It took me probably a solid minute to get him up and out of the car, an entire minute when I could have been sucking down my vat of carbonated goodness. However, I did finally get him out of the car and into the house, at which point I totally forgot about him as I savored my caffeine fix (mmmm, it’s gone now and about time for another–what is wrong with me??).

And in other news, I finally reenter the workforce next week, having landed a cushy contracting gig with the company I worked for right before I left for Peace Corps. It will be nice to have a cashflow again, although I have to say I really enjoyed my time off and am a bit sad to see it go. The work will be full time and last a minimum of 12 weeks, which should give me enough time to find a solid non-profit job (which is what I’ve been looking for all along, with little luck). Oddly enough, I’ll be starting the contract work on the 23rd–almost five years to the day from when I first started working there (August 22, 2001). Strange how things happen like that, eh?

And now I must go answer the call of the fountain drink once more.

 

it’s that time again

I went to Target today, and all of the school supplies were on display. I adore school supplies. Notebooks, pens, pencils, erasers, folders, scissors, tape, you name it. Back-to-school shopping is like Christmas to me. Post-Its, index cards, glue sticks, pencil boxes, crayons, rulers…the writer in me gets giddy just thinking about it all. I even love browsing through the locker mirrors and accessories just to see what they’ve come up with since I was a kid. I can’t wait to take my kids school shopping. Which will probably be a good thing–taking my kids, that is–since I currently get strange looks when people see me ensconced in the middle of a huge Lisa Frank display with no discernable children in sight.

In completely unrelated news, my dog is getting fat. Everyone’s commented on it. Good thing he has no idea what the hell we’re talking about. Ever since he switched from dry kibble to apparently ambrosial canned food, he’s been scarfing his meals down as if he spent the first three years of his life dining on rusty nails and dryer lint. He loves his new food so much that he won’t even tolerate the dry kibble anymore (which he barely tolerated in the first place). I’ve tried mixing in some kibble with the canned stuff, but the little devil just spits all the kibble out on the floor like I’m insulting his intelligence with such tomfoolery. The canned food is supposed to be much better for his health because it’s made of all-natural, unprocessed ingredients, but I guess that’s only if he’s not scarfing it down like he’s trying to win a hot-dog-eating contest. Looks like I’m going to have to put him on a diet.