Sometimes life poops on you. Sometimes you get a blog post out of it.

My husband and I have some supremely adorable dogs. Sure, most dog owners – like most parents – will say that, but in our case it’s really really true.

Most of the time anyway.

Then today happened.

Tonight a friend and I decided to go running together so after I got home and changed, I packed up the dogs in the car and headed over to his house. Normally this 10ish minute trek is relatively low key. Occasionally, because they are greyhounds and I do not have a stretch limo, one will step on the other and it will end in growling or barking. Generally, that’s about it.

Most car trips

How most car trips go for us.

Our dog Bailey is very good about car rides. She gets in, she lies down, she doesn’t care what happens until the doors open again. Dylan, on the other hand, hasn’t quite figured out how to car yet. Possibly because while he wants to get comfortable, Bailey has already laid claim to most of the available space so he is forced to contort himself around where she is (read: he has basically no room).

So sometimes he does weird things like has his face near the back window and his butt between the car door and the driver’s seat. It’s not uncommon, so today when he did that I figured he was just trying to find a place where he could be without being growled at. Then it smelled like he farted.

It happens.

Then a few seconds later, I realized it wasn’t fart. It was poop.

Halfway through the 10 minute trip he decided he needed to go so badly that he couldn’t possibly hold it in. Likewise, he clearly couldn’t hold in his excitement at pooping in the car for the first (and hopefully last) time so he had to get it as close to me as humanly possible.

Sometimes there is harmony...

Sometimes there is harmony…

But, I was on a highway and would be arriving soon so I just opened the windows and dealt with it.

Then, about two minutes later, Bailey leapt over the thing that divides the front seat from the back and was suddenly my passenger. Not only that, in fact, but she was also wet.

Clearly not satisfied with just having pooed in my car, Dylan decided he should seal the gross deal by peeing… all over the back seat (which, luckily, was covered by a seat protector), including on his canine sister.

So, not the greatest car trip ever, but there is a silver lining: When I got to my friends’ house and told them what happened, they immediately got out some cleaning supplies and helped me de-gross my car.

I honestly have no idea what the lesson is here, with the exception that sometimes when life really has you questioning what the hell is going on in the world, the world makes your dog poo in your car and you just have to laugh and try not to throw up on your steering wheel.

I should write cards.

p.s. – I have a picture of the “incident”, but husband decided it was too much to include here. Apparently the gross part about this whole thing isn’t that it happened, but is instead that I made sure I had proof so you guys wouldn’t just think I was making this up.

I have so much to learn.

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Filed under Children, Humor

Shorty post: This company seems awesome (and real)

Last night one of my best friends and I had a night out away from boys, dogs and kids… it was glorious. In our travels, we came across this written on a sidewalk.

Apparently all you need to start a business is some chalk, a website that people probably can’t get to and some bad English.

yourDoes anyone know where I can get a keyboard that includes backwards letters? I’m really interested in this great opportunity. I mean, come on, there are two exclamation points, how could I not want to jump on this bandwagon!?

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Filed under Comedy, Humor, One minute read

Something old, something new, something borrowed, something breakdown inducing

You know how sometimes things happen to you… like winning the lottery… and at first it’s all angels singing from on high and you’ll never have to worry about anything ever again, and you could possibly even pull off that scene from Indecent Proposal* (or DuckTales) where you roll around on a pile of money.

*I’ve never seen that movie, so I am only about 10% sure that actually happened.

Then it becomes more like The Jerk and you realize you aren’t black (unless you are) and that suddenly having all this money is not a good thing because all these people just keep asking you for things and it’s overwhelming and you’re forced to watch videos of people cat juggling but at least you have water coolers full of wine out by your tennis courts.

Admittedly if you haven’t seen that movie that doesn’t mean anything to you. Just go watch it real quick… I’ll wait… Oh, or you could just watch this.

So that overwhelming feeling that comes from something really good, that’s what I’m going through right now.

Next weekend I’m getting married… and I couldn’t be less excited about it if I tried. I want to be married, but the whole process of getting married just seems so unnecessary. I would be fine with “Do you, girl, take this guy?” “Do you, guy, take this girl?” Ceremony over.

But apparently that’s not what most people do.

They aren't showing their heads because they are both really stressed out... right?

They aren’t showing their heads because they are both really stressed out… right?

We settled on a small ceremony (10ish people) in a place that’s TBD with a ceremony we have yet to finish writing. Then today we went to get our marriage license and this guy was all mean and “You haven’t decided if you’re changing your name?” And I’m all “No, Snarky McKhakis” and he’s all “Well you have to decide before the ceremony because this has to go to THE STATE and we can’t change it after that.”

Then I started crying. I actually did make it out of the building first, though.

Is it just me or does it seem like this whole getting married thing is a WORLD easier for men? As far as I can tell, all they have to do is show up dressed appropriately.

I had to flipping try on 12 dresses that each made my hips look like someone attached Dolly Parton’s boobs to my hips. That was loads of fun. Then it’s all “Don’t gain any weight because the dress fits!” from the crazy 10 pound Asian woman doing the alterations. “Thanks, Obvious McThumbelina, I hadn’t considered that.”

The whole deciding to change my last name thing is giving me way more anxiety than I anticipated. I was never the girl who dreamed of getting married and all the colors or the dresses or where it would be, so I never thought about my last name. It never occurred to me that my name would become who I am. It means something – for better or worse. My professional network isn’t vast, but people know who I am based on both parts of my name.

Never in my life did I dream I’d have to think so much about this.

A friend shared a link on my FB wall from the Huffington Post about how an increasing number of women are changing their last names. I’m wondering if the decision is just easy for all of these people that aren’t me.

It’s not that I am stuck on keeping my name, or averse to taking his; my problem is that I’ve suddenly been given a week to decide this pretty big thing, when I had no idea that would be the case, and it’s just exacerbated how much about this whole process of getting married I really hate. Again, I am excited to be married… I love my fiance more than anything… except maybe baby ducks. It’s probably a tie.

Maybe I’ll end up changing it to something completely different. A friend recommended Bluth… which would be awesome since we’re getting married on the day the new season of Arrested Development is being released on Netflix.

So… who’s been there? If you’re married, what did you decide to do? If you aren’t, have you already decided what you’ll do someday?

Also, how much alcohol should I plan to consume in the next week to get through this whole thing? Oh! Maybe I’ll change my name to Mimosa!

Yup… that screams great idea.

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Filed under Comedy, Rants

Shorty post: How my mind works on Saturday mornings

Well, maybe every morning… it’s hard to say.

Anyway, this morning I checked the Associated Press for any breaking news, etc. and saw the headline “China installs Cabinet” and my immediate thought was How did it figure out how to use the tools?

Image

If a plate built this… you’d be impressed.

So then I obviously followed that up with This is what happens when we use the same word for a country and, you know, stuff we eat off of.

Then, because my brain wasn’t done working yet: I wonder if there’s a place called Fork. And, if there is, I wonder if they have any sports teams. Also there should be a place called Egg and they would also have to have some team… maybe football. Then the two could play against each other in… I don’t know, the Super Bowl for oddly named places? The headline could totally be “Fork beats Egg to win game.”

HOLY CRAP there IS a Fork city! It’s the logging capital of the world… obviously. I wonder if they have a Springfield/Shelbyville relationship with nearby cities. I bet they all scream out “Fork you!”

The closest I can find to egg is Egg Harbor Township in New Jersey. Nice try, Jersey, but that is simply not going to cut it.

OK it’s clearly time for me to eat so I can have normal thoughts today at some point.

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My dog shows her love by trashing my house

I love my dog. I know this is true because never in my life did I think I’d be OK with picking up the poop of another living creature.

Sometimes, though, Bailey Bug (a tuxedo greyhound for anyone interested) dances on the line between cute and how long do I have to wait before I have to take you to the vet because you ate a whole crapload of stuff you shouldn’t have.

Guess which side she landed on today.

I’ll let the pictures speak for themselves on this post, but just one thing to note: All that brown stuff on the living room floor that looks like coffee grounds is, in fact, flavoring specialty grains from when the fiance and I made beerthat we can drink in a month.

I was worried she might be on a caffeine high (when I thought it was coffee), but now I just need to make sure I don’t have a drunk dog. She was fine on her walk, but given the fact that she never walks in a straight line, the world may just never know.

Board

We were doing so well, too.

Pantry

Garbage, meet floor.

coffee

In fairness, the specialty beer whatever is right next to the coffee bag, so obviously I would immediately think it was coffee!

Bag

I have no idea why this appealed to her. At all.

My best guess here is that when she noticed the door was open, she had to contain herself until the house was empty of those who walk on two legs before she could go all bananas. The worst part, in my opinion, is that there is no video of this because I would LOVE to put that to Benny Hill and watch it 1,000 times.

And really, even if I wanted to be mad, look at this face! You just can’t be mad at her…

Bed bug

She’s very proper… when she isn’t digging through the trash.

 

 

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How to make beer in 20(ish) sarcastic steps

I don’t know how many of you are aware of this, but apparently when you’re in a relationship, it’s recommended that you do things together for the sake of the children you don’t have your future.

In my opinion, this should mean things like not going to bed angry, or talking once a week, but I guess that’s not right so instead my fiance and I made beer together.

Let’s just stop there. People make beer. Were you even aware that was a thing? Shouldn’t it be… something you just buy? Evidently not, and since I’m a good part of this couple (or at the very least I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him be the better part of it), we started the process of making beer.

If you’re ever interested in making beer that can immediately be consumed that you can drink a month later here are the steps:

Step 1: Give up trying to finish painting your nails because, again, you’re in a loving relationship and that means doing things together is more important than your hands looking nice.

Step 2: Tell the boy that you’re going to photo document the process and watch as he looks at you like it’s the best news he’s ever received. Ever. Oh, also put a bunch of water in a pot. Step 2 lesson: Beer has a lot of water so it’s healthy for you and will keep you hydrated and your boss should let you drink at work.

Step 2

Step 3: Open this box of stuff that you add to the water to make it slightly less healthy – don’t add it all at once though. Apparently.

Step 4: Start to wonder how many freaking steps this is going to take. Also start to wonder how long it will be until your fiance realizes that you’re more interested in taking pictures than actually learning about how to make beer. Oh wait, no, Step 4 is putting flavoring specialty grains (sounds legit, no?) into a sack thing then add it to the water.

Step 5: Sweep up the parts of the specialty grains that got on the floor. Make boy take a picture of you sweeping to make it look like you’re doing more than just taking pictures.

ImageStep 6: Drink beer! Seriously – he says it’s part of the steps. Unfortunately it’s not your beer because the world hates you and that won’t happen for weeks.

Step 7: Listen to boy swear at himself for forgetting something that he promises he doesn’t really need.

Step 7: Look at the sack in the water. This is an easy step.

Step 8: Look at more stuff that comes out of the box of goodies… listen to what they do and try to retain it later. Then, step 8A, have this conversation:
Him: Do you want to take a picture?
You: Will you hop?
Him: No.
You: Please?
Then take a picture of the hops and him hopping. Rejoice.

Step 9: Smack yeast packet so something else in the packet can mix with the yeast and then things happen. Realize at this exact moment that you used to have a job writing instruction manuals and how awesome you are at writing instructions.

Step 10: Start to smell good things and wish you had pretzels at your house. Have this conversation:
You: This makes me want pretzels.
Him: I’m sorry.
You: Why don’t we have any?
Him: I couldn’t have anticipated that.
You: Start to question the fact that you’re engaged to someone who couldn’t have anticipated that you would want pretzels with beer you can’t drink. Well, now we know for next time and you can make sure we have them.
Him: Sigh.
Step 10A: Take sack out. (In retrospect, this probably happened a while ago but I’m starving and I was busy taking photos.)

Step 11: Seriously start to question this theory about doing things together as a couple. Add stuff that appears to be molasses but is not in fact molasses and look super thrilled and not at all like you’re questioning your life while doing it.  Step too many: Add one packet of hops in. No photo so feel free to use your imagination to picture a person adding something into a pot of water and specialty grains.

Step 13: The unlucky step. Or, sit on the kitchen and look at your various devices because “The sucky part is you have to keep an eye on it because it can boil over and that is disgusting.” Then, as Step 13A, don’t get up from your spot because the dog will decide that where you just were is where she wants to be.

Step 14: After about 4 days 45 minutes, stop the water from boiling, then add the second packet of hops (but don’t feel like you have to actually hop this time since it’s been done). Then go outside where it’s wicked cold because your fiance hates you you need to pour the still very healthy water into a sanitized for your protection bucket. Bring bucket back inside and add water. (This picture is so you don’t have to imagine someone pouring water into a bucket because, honestly, how many times can I use the excuse “just imagine it” before someone’s all like She didn’t make this a photo blog! She made us imagine it! I’m calling the blog cops! Jerks.)

Step… sigh, roughly 400: Put the bucket that was sanitized for your protection in the pantry for a little while to let everything cool down. Then add yeast to the concoction that will allegedly someday be beer but right now is just making you want a pretzel. And pizza. And to be at a baseball game. And for it to be summer. While you’re adding the yeast think a LOT about how EVERYTHING YOU ADD TO BEER LOOKS LIKE PUKE.

So yummy...Step 16: Do everything in your power to close the bucket sanitized for your protection so the yeast monsters don’t escape.

We'll get it yet!

Step 17: Pour vodka into the airlock… allegedly this has something to do with killing bacteria, but secretly I think yeast monsters like vodka and it keeps them from attacking.

Keeping the monsters at bay

Final step: First, get really, really excited because this whole insanely long, stupid really relationship-affirming process is almost over! Second, clear out space in your closet so the soon to be beer can ferment or whatever it does now. Last, get really excited the vodka will keep the yeast monsters at bay since you love your shoes and you don’t want anything to eat them.

Don't eat my shoes!

Well, the actual final step will be a month from now when you can finally drink the still healthy water. But since that hasn’t happened yet, I’m just going to go back to painting my nails which I’ll be able to enjoy right away.

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Filed under Comedy, Humor

Does the matching underwear come with it?

You know how we all do random things in the middle of the night? Like eat, or drink, or stumble our way into the neighbor’s yard and start mowing it? No. OK well, then clearly I need to start taking advice from you people.

Aaaaanyway, my new middle of the night vice is checking the site Woot. It’s like a company matched shopping with a shopper’s ADD and everything magical ever thought possible happened. Or, at least that’s how it seems in the middle of the night. Basically, every day there are new things they sell, and they switch them up in the middle of the night. So, my body has internalized an alarm for middle of the night, somewhere between midnight and 2 a.m. at which point I wake up and must go to the site to check what’s new because what if the new thing is awesome and it’s sold out by the time any normal person is waking up and then I missed out? It’s like you guys don’t even know me at all.

In fairness, that’s rarely happened, but still. Internal alarm clock, people. I should say here that on the nights my boyfriend stays over, I’m nice enough to skip this because he likes sleep more than I like middle of the night shopping. That, my friends, is love.

So, to get to the point of this post… The other night, in a haze, I checked the site and saw the most post pointless thing ever (but I’m willing to be proven incorrect on that point). It’s a tampon holder. That attaches to your toilet. So, just in case you don’t have a dog that delivers them, you don’t need to worry about walking around your house in heels with your undies around your ankles.

Guys, it’s fun. And easy.

I really wish I’d made that last part up, but the people who brilliantly put together the infomercial came up with it. Seriously:

So no, this was not one of those things that I bought immediately. Nor did the video prove to me that I needed to have it. Frankly, I’m not sure anyone does… but hey, who am I to judge? And if it keeps people from having to scurry around their house in the underwear that matches the box, then I guess it’s doing someone a favor.

Somewhere.

Update:

The first comment left on this post made me think of a question: If you were to buy this, but decided not to use it for its intended use, what other stuff would you be willing to put in it? Assuming you still stuck it to the side of your toilet, that is.

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Filed under Humor