Snoring Pup

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!!)

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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