Return of the dog

Or how my house became the UN

I have missed my dog living with me. For the past 3 years she has lived in the expansive house and 2 lot (5 fruit-treed, 2 gardened, grape arbor, with many other trees, squirrels) fenced in yard. It made more sense. I was always working late and I lived alone (well with the 2 cats). Then I got a job with normal hours and a roommate (also with 2 cats). So now with the job and roommate and 4 cats, I thought it was time to bring her back.

Meet Goethe. pronounced Gerta
Part Rottweiler. Part German Shepherd
So she got a good German name. Named for the author I youthfully loved (for morbidity and goth)
see: The Sorrows of Young Werther

Our first night back I had R take Goethe’s doggie bed in while I took her for a walk. He let the cats realize the smell was coming to join them and locked them up. Goethe and I came back and I had her ask to come in (so R could give us the all clear and let us in). Goethe looked around a bit and I opened doors to let the cats see that there was a dog. Gradually they came out. My 2 cats use to live with her and Skittie said, oh, it’s that dog, and went about her business. Dirt (who purrs like a construction site and meows like a mime) hisses with her silent little expression of air when she thinks Goethe is too close. I actually had to escort Goethe to the water because she tried to pass. “But that cat keeps hissing, please protect me.” Cody’s tail got really fluffy and we were worried she was gonna attack. Last time they met Goethe had a cat on her face within seconds. But this time she didn’t and let Goethe walk past her to go out. As for the 4th, Caddy is keeping out of sight. So far so good.

But I left the saddest face in the world in the morning.

I told her to be a good dog and watch the house and she said, without raising her face from her cowering position on the floor, “You bring me to a new place and abandon me?”

We played a little early in the morning and I took her out 3 times, but it was raining so, she didn’t really want to be out there, all she would do was pee.

I came home early last night because she didn't go in the morning, and she wouldn't look at me when I told her to be good and watch the house. It took her a while to forgive me even after I got home. She didn't even bark when I was unlocking the door. We took a walk for an hour. The dog parks are more like dog runs. No grass, long and kinda narrow. One dog park was too crowded for her (though, to her credit, she was very tolerant of the nosey dogs). We went to the other one, with only one dog and she told me I had brought the wrong toy. "I want the stuffed animals, not the foot ball" So we walked back home. We then sat out in the yard and played with monkey for at least 1/2 an hour. When R came home she (now thinking he hides out in the garage all day) came in and she crashed. She has refused to eat her food...till I put scrambled egg in it. And even after all of that, she still didn't poop not even when I stayed up to (wake her stiff self up) and take her out at 10. I was beginning to worry.
Sheezh

I will say that last night (at night she sleeps in the front of the house by the door) she barked at neighbors coming home, chatting, and going up the stairs. I got up told her she was good and decided to bring her back into the bedroom. WHERE ALL THE CATS WERE.
But that was without incident too, even thought ALL the cats got up in the night to break into the food bin. They had to walk by the DOG to do that.

This morning again she would not evacuate her bowels and I was kind of thinking if she didn’t I WOULD have a mess when I got home. I decided I had to take her for a walk to the dog park. Sure enough, it must have been just inconvenient enough to punish me. But, running late getting ready for work, there in the dark and the cold when my back was turned she relieved herself.

How can she be this spoiled? I mean at the apartment it was one thing. We knew we had to walk. But here there is a yard. "Oooh, I'm a city dog and city dogs get to poop in the park, don't try this yard stuff on me."

I'm less worried today. She was downcast when I left, but didn't make as big a deal out of it. I guess she has decided I do come back.

What part of "Duuuhhhh" don't you understand

And the Darwin award goes to....
UN-FUCKING BELIEVABLE!!!

*Click on those pictures for the video...must see stupidity

Expanding family means expanding waistline

How many Thanksgiving dinners did you eat?
I am not talking leftovers.
I had 4. First there is the farmer’s table. Lots of family and lots of food. Every one brings a dish. Usually a side and the host for the year will make the main dish. Being the city girl that I have become, and living over 3 hours away, I show up with a fruit plate and (frozen) pre-made fancy hors d'oeuvre. Tiny quiche Lor·raines and filo dough wrapped brie almond and raspberry. Fortunately that went over well with the *homemade: potatoes, stuffing, turkey, corn casserole, green bean casserole, roles, salads, and amazing amounts of pies and desserts. They were sweet about it and didn’t mock me for the packaged food saying “we saw her put them onto the pan and put them in the oven” not once implying that I didn’t make them.

Then another 2 hour drive for R’s family. Since his parents are divorced that means 2 more dinners (fortunately only one of them was directly after the Farmers dinner). The next days dinner I had the good fortune of having Turducken. Turkey-duck-chicken-stuffed with crawfish served with a cream Tabasco-esque sauce. The next night was dinner at my parent’s house.
After all this food you’d think I’d explode or fast this week.
Instead I just had a craving for more fatty food.

* by homemade I mean made from scratch. I don’t believe these people know there are packaged foods. I didn’t either till I started baby-sitting. The first time I was told to make Mac-n-Cheese I asked where the cheese was. It took me 20 min to figure out how to make Mac-n-Cheese from a box.

What a weekend

And I threw a great party, I just wish I had first hand knowledge of it.

Thank god the party ended up being smaller than anticipated. It's easier to get people to fill in all the gaps if there are fewer people you have to ask about the evening. Once you get 20 people (and guests of guests) it's hard to get the whole story. Ask 5 people, thats fine, ask 10 or more and you begin to get disgusted and questioning yourself Am I an alcoholic?
Martinis are not always the best way to start a long night of drinking. I know this, but still that's what I did. I can't post the pictures because I haven't gotten releases from everyone, and (from the quality I have seen) I believe all the picture takers may have been drunk too. I, of course, did not take any pictures being at least half the entertainment and all in the bag.

The highlights I have gathered mostly involve me swapping clothes (I think only shoes) with other guests, giving a lapdance to someones wife, getting knocked over by a door into a pile of cans (one which exploded) and onto the ammo boxes (big wooden crates) I know this because when I asked someone about the bruises and that is what they told me. I have a tender zygoma which indicates, even thought I don't have one, somehow I tried to get a black eye. I forgot to put in the 2nd round of appetizers, which means there were no kitchen fires. I spilled drinks on my sister and apparently fell on top of many people in a pile with another particularly amorous guest (someone elses wife I like to get quite friendly with. It's not my fault she is such a good kisser. It's like she's like a lays potato chip).
Yes it was the kind of party you wish you remembered and your geeky male friends never forget.

I'll get back to the party later

This is going to be a really poorly placed post. Following the apology for a party and the final pieced together bits I am still collecting (that alone proving it was a thing of excess), I am going to write about those with the excess of nothing.

I read the blog Gods and Ghosts religiously. The writer is eloquent, homeless, and a heroin addict. She owns a little piece of my spirit and if I still lived in Portland, where street kids crashd in my house, she would always have a place out of the cold. You can't judge her till you have read the wisdom and poetry she puts forth. And I love that you'll get to know her for her mind before you dismiss her on the street. Her latest post is a little off her usual subtlety and a little more right there in bold face type socially conscious. Perhaps that's why I'm writing on it. I haven't had a serious topic in a while. Well, that and I didn't want to write an extensive piece in her comments.


Thanksgiving is a weird time to be homeless, not necessarily because of the emotionally fraught potential of the occasion—one which more than any other emphasizes gathering to family, hearth and home—but because it's somehow turned into the designated kickoff day for Let's Think About The Needy season…
It's a weird time because Average Joes and Joans drop their guard, allowing holiday-influenced bonhomie to inspire them to volunteer in some sketchy place downtown they Google Mapped, nervously parking the car around the block and hoping no one takes a piss on the paint job.

It's a weird time because for a few days, I'm not invisible.

Thanksgiving is a weird time for humanity.
The season finds people in working at shelters, the USO, and drinking in bars. And most of these people have families. A lot of them are escaping.
Even I have put time in at the USO and the bar. I've never worked at a mission. Sure I took clothes (when we out grew them) or food (when my family had it) because that's all I felt they really needed from me.
As I got older there were lots of everyday situations that I was more useful in. Bagging my cans separate and hanging them on the dumpster. I could live with out the deposit and someone else could live without having to dig thru' my garbage. Change, food, books (at first it was shocking how many were pleased with a book or pen and paper), but most often just a word or 2. Answering a question about how to get a new ID or where to go for a coat.
Yes, I realize, I am patting myself on the back a bit and I'll stop.
When I read her post I wanted to tell her “When someone tries to give you something unsolicited, please take it”. I find it is sometimes hard to approach someone, especially unsolicited. They could have even asked someone else but not me and I hesitate. And in the moment of hesitation I feel the shame that I am crumpling a bit of his or her pride and maybe taking a bit of humanity just because I want to, or think I can, help. I know I have no right to ask, but could you give me the gift of receiving.
But in reading I began to wonder if maybe the receiver really is letting someone off the hook that way. Do the givers feel then they don't have to do anything else? But I am I hopeful, young and naive. I want so badly to believe that it will maybe make them aware of how much they haven't done or that each time it become easier to do next time?
I don’t have the answers. I use to think I had some of them. I believed in the (use gruff voice here) “Hand up not Hand out”. I use to find assistance, jobs, training and education. I was helping THEM to make a difference in their own lifes. But after 7 years I left the Rehabilitation Service industry. By then I was glad to go. I loathed it when people asked me what I did and responded to my answer by saying That must be a very fulfilling job . I wanted to scream. NO, No it’s not! I felt dirty. I was too human for the job. Some I could help, some I couldn’t and it seemed more and more wouldn’t help themselves. I found myself going from wanting to help, to wanting to scream, to apathy and resentment. My life wasn’t much less desperate or complicated than theirs. I was petty and wanted someone to hold my hand sometimes, tell me how to solve my problems, pay for my education, find a way around the system for ME.
Do I give because I gave up on the pig picture fix, because it eases the guilt of that, because I have it, because you need it more than I, because it's easier than any other alternative? Like I say, I don’t know.
Maybe there are millions of people feeling this way. Maybe it happens this season because it is the time they give to their family. Maybe there are old values they remember from their grandparents about taking care of the community. It is too bad that they don’t think of it more often. It’s too bad they voted for tax cuts instead of for programs.
I just cant help but hope every season changes someone. You can't think your way into a new way of living—you have to live your way into a new way of thinking.

I have lapped up your words freely. I have given you nothing and yet you thank me. Today I am the receiver of your generosity. Perhaps it is the season of receivership and not the season of giving as society proclaims.

follow-up

We're sorry.

We don't remember things too clearly.

So we're just apologizing in mass.

Just in case.

Nothing was broken. We didn't find any blood or anything. We haven't
gotten any public complaints. We're just covering our ass.

And for the record, lawsuits are futile. We spent all our money on
booze and curtains.

Thanks to everyone who made the party what it was. We hope you all
got enough practice or fortification to get you through the holidays.
Enjoy your upcoming feasts and hopefull we'll see y'all next time.

" If we shadows have offended,
Think but this,--and all is mended,--
That you have but slumber'd here
While these visions did appear.
And this weak and idle theme,
No more yielding but a dream..."

- A Midsummer Night's Dream-

Did you just call me a fat alcoholic?

I believe my mother is trying to tell me something lately in her emails.

Squeezing Alcohol Into Your Diet
You know that sugary sodas and juice drinks can add a lot of unnecessary calories to your diet, but what about alcoholic drinks? Here's a basic guideline: Alcohol has 7 calories per gram and is metabolized in your body like fat. It has no vitamins or minerals, so those calories are "empty," meaning that they don't provide your body with any nutrients. Except sweet blissful escape Alcohol can affect your weight-loss efforts in several ways. It can reduce your self-control, which can lead to overeating, and it can contribute to hypoglycemia. If you take insulin or other medications that can cause very low blood glucose, you'll always need to eat a meal or a snack with alcohol. can do!

These factors, unfortunately, can slow your weight-loss or even contribute to weight gain. If you are trying to lose weight by cutting calories, it is better to choose foods that are a good source of vitamins and minerals, as opposed to the "empty" calories from alcohol. Where is this alcohol diet of wich you speak and WHY dear God, why am I just now hearing about it? When you do order a drink, however, choose wisely. Always go for the top shelf stuff A 12-oz light beer, 1-oz of liquor mixed with diet soda or water, or a 5-oz glass of wine contains about 100 calories. Some of the highest calorie alcoholic beverages, on the other hand, are made with cream. Uh, Duh A 6-oz serving of a White Russian or a Grasshopper blech contains 450 to 500 calories. If you also have snacks or other food with alcohol, it is easy to see why alcohol can put the brakes on your weight-loss plan!

When you do decide to drink, always do so in moderation, and choose drinks that are lower in calories. Your health — and your waistline — will thank you for it.
Maybe, but I have a better relationship with my sanity and my (hemm) fortified sense of humor, self worth, and other humanity my way. Whens the last time my health and waistline did anything for me?

Cloudland Canyon

Good ol' Tennessee.
How I miss the picturesque hills and valleys.

Centuries have worn down the ground till rough hewn rock is rubbed slick and vegitation clings sideways to banks eaten away
what starts as a steady drip aspiring to a slow moving river with only one obstical

But old growth has set up shop here and refusing to leave turns greaner every season fed by the force that will one day destroy it.
Love me to death
under the guise of feading me life.





I also miss where the sanke handler lives.
Be sure to click on it and try to see how many Porcelain pieces of bathrooms you can find.
I think he was trying for a fancy out house

the need to read

Day by day it is darker and colder.
I leave for work in the dark. I come home in the dark.
The days rouse the smell of crisp cold and turned earth. Which makes no sense to me since I don't live remotely near a farm and the city refuses to give up even one stretch of unpaved ground. The nights, thicker with moisture, press the beginnings of the moldy smell before the leaves go to rot. The smell of wood smoke or brush fire would be more welcome but this is a city and fall is not a season of the city. Fall is swept up between pro-tourist city beautification planted summer and consumeristic holiday lit windows.
Since it is cold and darker now the windows are beautiful and bright. So inviting in the early darkness. Promising shimmering dreams thru glass that will not melt. This looking glass is not for you. Oh, no Alice. Not for you. These are rich displays for rich lives and even though you work all the hours of daylight left, you will never know them. The softly lit light restrained from the darkness glows so bright when wet eyes make them twinkle. The whiteness of winter mocked up with ermine. The sparkle of snow replaced with diamonds. The glow of warmth within the winter scenes, the happiness that comes from the right box, the perfectly set table sitting empty, the tableau at conflict with itself.

I am out of books to read, and if I continue to look about instead of burying my eyes into ---letters that make words into sentences forming paragraphs which is love--- books I will surely go insane and become one of them, the never happy shoppers looking wistfully on the make believe in the stores that they can not purchase even if they owned it all.


Please can anyone recommend some good books?

But that's GOOD news...Right?

And why exactly did my mom send me this article?

Liars Have Different Brains

Sunday, November 13, 2005
Habitually lying and cheating may cause worse consequences than simply a heavy conscience, a new neurological study suggests. According to the study, conducted by University of Southern California researchers, individuals identified as pathological liars tend to suffer from structural brain abnormalities that provide the capacity for lying without inhibition. Researchers found that pathological liars' brains tend to have less gray matter and more white matter in the prefrontal cortex, increasing their ability to process information quickly and respond creatively without inhibition. The study's authors hope the findings can provide fodder for future studies on the structural and biological basis of pathological behavior.

Japan's attempt to tempt fate more obvious than McDonalds

I can just see the headlines.


Japanese court rules phrase "Hot Tits" is not suggestive or insulting

Woman’s super heated bra pops scalding boobies

Triumph boils breasts: hot pants not all their cracked up to be


I can't make this shit up!!

Animal Orgies

It was a warm dream of breathing and being. Everything was soft and beautiful. Rolling around. So many scratchy paws, wet noses, frenzy of tails. I begin to come up out of the luxerious haze.

WTF?!?!?
NOT A DREAM DUDE!
For a moment I wonder how I got here.


Then I remember. I picked up some crazy cat and got her to invite me back to her flat.

She gave me a drink. It made my eyes feel like they were bulging out and I vaguely remember soft fluffy things from my imagination dancing below me . I was wasted out on milk like a droog in the Korova Milkbar by the time I was introduced to Giselle

I THOUGHT I was just burying a nut. I SWEAR!


and one unholy thing lead to another.












No. It is actually true