Dian Reid Laughs

Animal Farm

2009-03-18T15:26:00.001-07:00

Moving is fun. Just not for the animals. Sly and Killer both yowled like they were being twirled by the ceiling fan during the less-than-1-mile-car-ride from the old apartment to the new house. Good times.

Jackson, on the other hand, was fine during the ride. Apparently cats and dogs really are different.

Here's what Jackson is good at in the new house so far:

opening the mail

laying in the sun

laying near the sun

laying in the sun

staring stoically out the window at passers-by

growling at his reflection in the kitchen tiles

laying in the sun

waiting for Erin to come home

sleeping like a human

guarding the front porch

laying in the sun

passing out after eating

and of course...laying in the sun.

As for the other animals...

Killer is upset I've awoken her with the flash

And Sly...well, he can always find a new friend to lay on.

That's What She Said

2009-02-27T16:42:00.000-08:00

I've now seen That's What She Said twice, and it's been different both times. I wish I'd seen it a hundred times. That's where you come in. If you're a lesbian, go see the show (your membership will be cancelled if you don't). Or if you're a friend of a lesbian (that should cover the rest of the population, even if you don't know about it), go see the show. And if you think you don't fall into either of those categories, well then go see the show...clearly you need some culture.

Here's a note from the creators:

That's What She Said is back at the fabulous M Bar on Friday, March 20th. We have brand new songs to debut, re-vamped favorites and a few surprises never before seen on a stage in Hollywood. The best part? You get to sit back, eat a meal, have a cocktail and watch your favorite lesbian jesters work themselves into a magical frenzy!

Reserve your table now for a great night of music & comedy.

That's What She Said
M Bar Hollywood
Friday, March 20th at 8pm
Doors open at 7pm

$15 tickets at the door. Cash only.
$10 food minimum
Call 323.856.0036 for reservations

M Bar is located at 1253 Vine Street (at Fountain), Los Angeles 90038
www.mbarhollywood.com

See you at the show!
Amy & Kathryn
--
That's What She Said
On MySpace
On YouTube
On Facebook

You have plenty of time to save $25 ($15 for tickets & $10 for food), even in this crap-ass economy. So just do it. And then get 20 other people to do it, too.

If you'd like to see if it's worth going to, let me answer that with this:

You'll get to see that live. Now go reserve your seats!

I'll see you there.

The Not Going To College But I Have A Team Anyway Thing

2009-02-14T14:24:00.000-08:00

It's not that I couldn't get into college, it's that I didn't try. So when I watch college sports, I can do nothing but root for teams that others have convinced me to root for. First it was UCLA because Grandma hates USC. Beyond that, I've tended to gravitate towards my wherever my significant other of the time went to school.

During the Tricia years, it was BYU. But honestly, BYU wasn't good at...anything other than being Mormon, really, so it was usually a Chicago Cubs let down of almost-but-not-quite wins, no matter which sport we watched. I was actually pretty happy to not have to root for them by default once that split was final. In fact, that may have even been part of the cause. I digress.

Next, I became a Duck. Ducks are cute, they're feisty, and well, it was always fun hearing Susan talk about it never raining at Autzen Stadium. And even now, I root for the Ducks whenever I get the chance. They're fun to watch, and they're even better than good some years, which makes it even better. I even still wear the green & yellow hoodie (that I possibly stole) when I know the Ducks are playing.

And then there was Florida State. The Seminoles. Meh. I could never really get on board with FSU. Partially because of the garnet & gold (too much of a resemblance to Grandma's hated Trojans) and mostly because they used a tomahawk chop in their cheers...too much of a resemblance to the Atlanta Braves, which stirs up my own personal hatred. Luckily, FSU wasn't good at anything but golf, so I rarely had to feign support for the team.

Which brings us to "my" current team. After my break-up with the Duck lady, I immersed myself in the Women's College World Series to drown my sorrows, and fell in love with a team from Illinois (ok fine, I fell in love with the coaches). Northwestern made it to the Championship Series with UA, and although the final scores made the 2 games look like blowouts, those were 2 of the best games I've seen in my life. A couple years later, I find myself relationshiply (I'm a writer, I'm allowed to make up words) obligated to root for this fine school. So far, so good.

From here on out I'm a Wildcat. And still kind of a Duck. And also a Bruin. But never at the same time, of course. As we discussed today's Wildcat/Duck softball game this past week, I made a light joke of wondering who I was going to root for and was nearly struck down by lightning bolts spearing from my Wildcat's eyes. Jeez, woman, take a joke!

Of course, this year I'm going back to school and will at some point get my own degree from my own college. So when I have a mascot to truly call my own, I hope I can really get on board with it. We'll see what happens. And then all you bitches better watch out, because it's entirely possible that I'll change my major and move cross country just to go to school somewhere that has a winning record over all the aforementioned schools. It's a good thing I'm not competitive.

The Dog Park

2009-02-12T18:18:00.000-08:00

If you have a dog, you know of this place: The Dog Park. Prior to having Jackson, I'd heard of a dog park but was always wary of such things. Who needs a bunch of dogs riling each other up in a little section of park and poop? I mean really. Well apparently, Jackson does.

The first time I took Jackson, he was shy and timid, ever the mama's boy. He walked slowly by my side, tail between his legs, scared of anything walking on all fours. He preferred the upright walkers with hands that would pet him, versus jowls that would sniff his butt. And then he learned something.

I wish I could get this on camera, but my blackberry is nearly on its last leg and can't seem to stay on for an entire text message, let alone shooting a 30-second video. What this video would show you is the aforementioned cute little scared puppy taking all of 4 seconds to turn into Prancing Valentino. His tail went up, his back went straight, his legs went all hoppy and dancy. And then I saw why.

A cute little beagle, about twice the size of Jackson caught his eye. And apparently his humper. I don't know if 4 months in dog years is like 18 in human boy years, but Jackson decided not only to hump that poor beagle, but just about every other dog in sight. And my boy Jackson, he's a hard worker. He went at it from the back, the side, the front...some of you may want to incorporate this style in your own...ahem...well if you don't know what to incorporate it into, then just never mind.

It used to be that we couldn't get Jackson to jump down from anywhere. But now that he knows the scent of the Doggy Does Dallas Park, he can't wait for us to open the door so he can vamp his way out into the crowd. And let me tell you, he's a free spirit. He has no shame, no rules. Boys, bitches, young, old, whatevs. They're all game in the DDDP.

Prior to the dog park, here's Jackson's New Year's Triumph:

Ah, yes. Boys will be boys. Notice how there are human feet in the pics...you know...just standing there...watching. And apparently taking pictures.

Silly Willy Jackson

2009-02-05T13:38:00.000-08:00

Jackson does not like the rain.

Jackson is not in pain.

He is not in pain when in the rain

But Jackson will not remain.

Jackson is very silly.

Jackson has a sore willy.

He has a sore willy

Because he was silly

And now will try to hump Billy.

Jackson crosses his legs when he lays.

Jackson lays on his legs for days.

He rests his head low

Is scared of his own shadow

And will not eat my Baked Lays.

_____________________

I don't even know what to call that...but it made Jackson perk up when I read it out loud to him =)

House Buying For Dummies

2009-01-15T08:29:00.000-08:00

When I sold my grandparents' house in 2006, I must've had a genius agent because she did nothing like what these people did. Or maybe my agent was doing it all wrong and homes are supposed to be on the market for 90+ days.... (oh, I know, the market is bad, blah, blah, blah)

Have the camera auto focus on the good parts of your curb appeal

Be sure to have someone point out what's for sale

Clearly state what is NOT for sale

Clear the counters of rotten fruit

Show amenities, like trash service

Show that you've done due diligence in cleaning up

And of course...

Have flowers & Jesus bless each room

Snoring Pup

2008-12-24T09:41:00.000-08:00

Now I know I promised I wouldn't post everything Jackson does, but I thought I'd at least share his snoring. The vid is from my camera phone, so unfortunately, the quality leaves much to be desired. But the snoring...my must everyone I love snore?!!

Broads Are Sneaky (or I'm Dumb or Whoopeee!!)

2008-12-17T08:41:00.000-08:00

The Surprise.

I get an IM yesterday from my girl telling me that she has a bad headache and will probably come home early, maybe around 2 or 2:30. I tell her I'll be leaving for the gym around 2 and she practically cries like a baby demanding that I be home when she gets home. Or maybe she just asked. Whatever.

I change my schedule to go to the gym earlier and be home by 2:30, which I was. I was also in the shower when she got home, as I tend to do after sweating profusely for 60 minutes. When she pops her head in the shower to tell me she's home I ask how her head is feeling. She says she has some good news and some bad news.

The good news is that she doesn't have a headache. The bad news is that I wasn't supposed to be in the shower when she got home because she has a surprise for me and we have to be somewhere. Hmm...where could we have to be? "Did baseball season start early and you're taking me to Opening Day?" I ask. "Yes, baby," she says, "so dress warm."

She's changed into sweats from work clothes and suggests sweats for me as well. "Flip flops okay?" To which she replies, "You'd be warmer in shoes." Okay, so we're definitely going outside.

We get on the road and our estimated arrival time (compliments of our GPS Device, Lee) is just before 3:30. We're heading to the freeway. The 405. The 605. The 91. Exiting Beach Blvd. 6 miles on Beach. A right. A left. Another turn. A windy road. Into the hills. She asks if I know where we're going yet. "Not a clue. Not even trying to guess."

We pull up to our final destination, a house on the left. A big house. A Land Rover in the driveway. Is that Ann's car? Why would Ann be here? This house is in the boonies...EJ's not thinking about buying a this house...no, she would go through Jenifer to buy a house...no, she wouldn't just buy a house. "Any guesses yet?" she asks nervously as we walk up towards the door. "Ummm...no."

She rings the doorbell. A woman answers. "You must be Jodi," EJ says to the woman holding a puppy in her arms. EJ looks back at me, wide eyed, wondering if I get it yet. I look at her. I look at Jodi. I look at the puppy. OhMyGod, a PUPPY! "We're here for the puppy!!"

I ask if I can hold him and Jodi hands him right over. He's a dark brown-black with bits of chocolate extending down his arms and through his paws. There's a white patch on his chest and random bits of white in his front paws. His face is sweet, his eyes are curious brown (that just changed from blue, so you can still see a hint of blue just around the edges), and he smells like a puppy, through and through.

Getting Him Home.

After we signed the adoption paperwork Jodi gave us a ziplock baggie full of the food he's been eating and we were on our way. Aside from a little anxiety in the car right as we left, the pup was pretty chill and lay quietly in my lap for most of the ride home (except when he woke himself up with a rancid fart, for which we had to roll down all the windows & open the sunroof). On the way home we stopped at the local pet store and proceeded to spend $200 on just the essentials: toys, treats, gate, leash, poop bags, and free samples of food. We were also accosted by every woman worker in the joint. I thought Liz the Lez was going to offer to come home with us to show us how to take care of him. Thanks, Liz but umm...we got it.

Once home, we shooed the cats into the guest bedroom, set up the gate, and let Jackson into his new home to slide around on the hardwood floors like a wobbly 10-week old pup should. Within 20 minutes he found a spot to pee. On the welcome rug. Welcome, Jackson. While he did end up peeing inside one more time, he at least had the courtesy to do so on the hardwood floor. As for #2...

He was a good boy last night and got a treat for taking care of business on the lawn in front of the building. This morning when he went on the carpet, he got no such treat. But we did catch him before he cleared himself out completely, and were able to get him to finish business outside.

Separation Anxiety.

This boy will be a mama's boy. Good thing he has two mamas. When he can't see one of us, he whimpers & looks around for the other one. And when he can't find either of us, he turns into the part Beagle that he is--all calm Lab traits go out the window and you'd think someone was tossing him around by his tail.

Jackson seems to not mind the crate, as long as he can see us from it. He'll go in on his own and chill there, whether the door is open or closed. Of course, all that changed when we tried to go to bed.

The crate is set up in the living room. And we sleep in the bedroom. Which means he can't see us. But we can hear him. And so can the neighbors. After a solid 3 minutes of whining turned into outright barking, we moved the crate into the bedroom. Not a chance in hell that pup is getting into bed with us, but as long as he's in his crate, sleeping in the same room is A-OK with me.

He slept like a...see, now I've always disliked the "slept like a baby" term because babies tend to wake up every 2 hours crying after they've peed & pooped themselves into oblivion...so I'll just say...like me after a pub crawl, only without the snoring.

He was excited to get up and get out for a pee, although it seems I brought him in too early (as noted by the #2 incident above). So far day one has been pretty chill. I've taught him to sit (with the help of treats), and pee on the hardwood floor--oh no wait...he taught himself that. Currently, he's sleeping on my backpack next to me while I hold my two glasses of water in so as to avoid his aforementioned anxiety attacks. Where's an FUD when you need one?

The Cats.

Killer wants just about nothing to do with Jackson. She's content under the bed or under a chair where she's completely out of his sight. Sly, on the other hand is a bit more curious as to who's trying to com into his territory. There's been a bit of hissing, some growling, and even a couple misunderstandings. Seems that Jackson doesn't understand that Sly only wants to sniff him, not play with him. sly hisses and swats at Jackson's nose to clear up the miscommunication. But Jackson isn't so much with the learning without the treats, so this could go on for a while, unless Sly learns to give Jackson treats when he behaves deservingly.

I have no doubt that in a month's time Sly & Jackson will be BFF's and Killer will be indifferent to the both of them. In the meantime, don't expect posts on all the cute things Jackson does. I'm not one of those people. And this clearly isn't the forum for it.

Meet Jackson:

Elf Yourself

2008-12-12T14:06:00.000-08:00

Happy Friday everyone! And add to that some Holiday Cheer!

A friend of mine sent me a link to this site: http://elfyourself.jibjab.com/

If you go there, you will be able to create your own dances, like this one:

Send your own ElfYourself eCards

or like this one.

Spread the Holiday Cheer!!

lost in the closet

2008-12-08T10:29:00.000-08:00

the story starts with a game of speed quarters. 8 people. 6 quarters. 3 glasses. an endless supply of beer.

the story ends with "what the fuck?!"

and here's everything in between:

speed quarters was everything i expected it to be. except that my girlfriend couldn't keep herself from making me drink. it's not that i suck at quarters. i just suck at speed quarters. bounce. clink. "shit." drink. pour. bounce. clink. "shit." drink. pour. and that's how it went for an hour or so.

fast forward to bedtime. a quick change from party clothes to sleep clothes. a quick tooth rub with the bristly thing and then a quick stumble into bed and an even quicker fall asleep. the bed is right next to the bathroom. right. next. to. it. i needed only to roll out of bed and take 2 steps away from the bed and i'm in the bathroom. but when i woke up in the middle of the night to pee, apparently i couldn't grasp that concept.

i awake in the dead of night to an urgent need to rid myself of the many shots of beer i drank during what seemed to be 4 days of speed quarters. i get out of bed. i feel around for the open door to the bathroom. i find a doorway. i walk through it. i close the door. i search for the light switch. i don't feel one on the wall. fuck it. i don't need light to pee. just find me the toilet. i'm feeling the wall. and feeling the wall and feeling the wall. more wall. i find the door again. no toilet. i begin to panic. i feel for the bathroom counter so i can follow it back to the toilet. no counter. just wall. i panic more, and now i REALLY have to pee. i'm banging around into the wall, trying to find the toilet, or any feature of the bathroom i might recognize.

on the other side of the door, erin is awakened by my banging around. and then she hears the culmination of my frustration: "what the FUCK?!"

i hear her say something, maybe she asks what i'm doing. "i'm trying to find the bathroom!" i make it outside the door and find a wall switch. i flip it up. it's the switch to the closet. the one i'd been searching for the toilet in for the last 20 minutes.

good times.

Cat Lick

2008-10-29T08:08:00.001-07:00

Ok, some of you have seen this, some of you haven't. I thought it was worth posting to those I haven't sent it to.

And yes...these are my lovely children:

Palin Armory

2008-10-06T16:06:00.000-07:00

i don't even know why i find this amusing:

oh no, wait...yes i do.

and just for good measure, here's something else i found amusing, just in case you missed it:

That's What She Said

2008-10-05T14:51:00.000-07:00

a friend of mine is enjoying some success in her comedy duo, That's What She Said...here's what the SF Chronicle had to say about it:

That's What She Said

if you didn't get a chance to see the show when it was in southern ca, you MUST watch for it when it returns. i'll be sure to keep you posted on that.

happy weekend

Paying More At The Pump

2008-09-30T11:11:00.000-07:00

i set out to do some chores this morning. laundry. gas. car wash.

laundry done. check.

gas. check.

car wash. err...

see i forgot my dollars. so i couldn't do the DIY car wash. it's fun for me. a challenge. i like to see if i can scrub and rinse and dry in under 1:30 without ripping out the hose from the ceiling. but i forgot my dollars. so, no DIY challenge this morning.

instead, i got gas. and while i got gas, i also decided that i would clean my windshield. and so i did. and then i noticed bird crap on my hood. so i cleaned that off, too. then i put the wiper back into its water bin, the paper towel into the trash, and got into my car. and drove away. until i heard something behind me. hmmm...what's that?

i look in my side view mirror to find the nozzle of the gas pump dangling from my gas tank.

get gas. check.

clean windshield. check.

put nozzle back where it belongs before driving away. err...

the nozzle was still attached to my car. but not to the pump. i had ripped the hose from its locked in position at the top of the pump. damn. i look up and the cashier motions at me to come in. for a moment i think, i gotta get outta here!

rationality then set in and i walked into the gas-station-quickie-mart. deflated. filled out an "accident" form. signed said form. accepted the sneers and raised single brows of disappointment from the lookers-on. mild shame set in. and then i walked out.

my head hung low, my car parked in the middle of the lot, hazards flashing. patrons at every pump except the one i just maimed. the lady that had just sneered at me inside was now telling me that everything should be okay. ummm, okay...thanks?

as i drove away i thought about my DIY challenge. i didn't time myself with the windshield washing and the gas pumping, but i did manage to rip the hose from the pump. i'm pretty sure those pumps and hoses are designed to withstand idiots like myself.

ah...good times.

Mindless Banter

2008-09-16T11:33:00.000-07:00

so it may not be banter if it's just me, but this is what's happening.

laundry: part pure joy, part pure evil.

if you know me, you know i like things to be clean. and organized. and laundry allows me to accomplish both of these tasks. i love folding (as we know by the bags in our house). and i love putting things where they belong. pure. joy.

on the other hand. there's putting everything IN the washer. i don't wear things 8 times before i put them in the laundry basket. and i don't wait to do laundry every 4 months, thus allowing the stench to permeate the floorboards and make the neighbors wonder if i'm hiding the stray cat we haven't seen in a month in our apartment. (i DON'T do that, i said). sooo...why am i constantly slapped in the face by the stink of barely-week-old clothes coming out of the hamper going into the washer? we take showers. daily. so i don't understand why our clothes smell like dead cat. we wear deodorant. (one can see the deodorant marks on the underarms of our shirts, even though the label promises to glide on clear with no white mess). pure evil.

it's really all i can do to stay focused on the fact that in 22 short minutes i'll be loading fresh, pristine fabrics of clean delight into the dryer and pretending to read my book just to avoid the annoying laundry clerk who thinks i want to know that her kid is finally potty trained (after 4 years, he should be), and so i can watch the cleanliness go round and round and round while daydreaming about all the folding that is about to ensue.

it's been a good morning. a good morning, indeed.

Tina Fey Nails Sarah Palin

2008-09-14T10:30:00.000-07:00

It's true. And so...here it is.