Today felt like vacation. We slept in, Coco only woke us up twice in the middle of the night to be let out. I moseyed on over to the fence line to check out the Elk that hang out in the back meadow. They were […]
Lately it seems that if you want something to go viral make it a Disney princess mashup. Like most american girls, I was brought up watching Disney movies. I had every princess movie, I played dress up and make-believe. I went to Disney World several times […]
As supercilious as I am concerning how people dress and act, I am surprisingly open minded and nonjudgmental concerning how people choose to live their lives. For the most part I believe if you aren’t hurting anyone or yourself you should do whatever you want. I am a firm believer that you can reduce morality down to one simple rule: Don’t be a dick.
Don’t be a dick to other, and don’t be a dick to yourself. It’s simple.
Unfortunately, there are people who feel they are morally obligated to force their beliefs onto others. This is where we start to cross into the danger zone of becoming a Dick With Good Intentions. If you feel that it is necessary to force someone to do something against their will or to deny someone from basic right because you are worried about an esoteric essence inside them, you have fallen down the slippery slope and become a DWGI.
This weekend I watched my best friend from childhood marry her perfect mate. It was the most touching and beautiful wedding I have ever witnessed. I have been to a GAZILLION FREAKING WEDDINGS. This one takes the cake (wedding pun For the Win). You may ask why this one was so special. It was special because it was a wedding between two beautiful women in love, surrounded by their family and friends. These are two intelligent and loving people who want nothing more than to share their life together and build a family.
As a result of my love of their love, It absolutely pisses me the hell off that there are people who work to deny others the right to be recognized as a married couple. What kind of asshole tells someone else, “No, you can’t marry that person you love because it confuses my neither bits in the NO NO Zone and I don’t like that.” I can not even imagine how heart broken, distraught, and filled with spine breaking RAGE, I would be if someone told me that I could not marry my husband. It is cruel and unnecessary. No one should be able to tell anyone else they can’t marry the person they love. If you don’t want a homosexual marriage, then don’t marry a homosexual. Let them marry each other, everyone is happier that way.
Inequality deeply frustrates me. I feel empathetically for those who are being denied freedom to do what they want. This is possibly because I am the worst person at taking orders. To the degree that I can’t join group teams or classes because I don’t like being told to show up places routinely at a certain time. If you aren’t paying me, you don’t get to tell me when and where to show up. I do what I want.
Oddly enough given how opinionated, stubborn and independent I am, I have had several men act shocked when I said something about being a feminist. They usually say something along the lines of “You’re not a feminist, you’re too laid back to be like that and you make jokes…” They earn the eyebrow of sarcasm and scorn for this. I took feminism classes in college and argued with a variety of women on a vast array of topics that some see as un-feminist, but really they are just different schools of thought from different groups of feminists. It’s a shame that so many people (male AND female) seem to think that feminism means you hate men and wish to police all that they do and say; searching from some perceived misogynistic oppression. That is a big bag of NOPE. Sorry, not how it works. Answer this: Do you think women should be paid as much as men for the same exact work? Do you think that women should be allowed to have the exact same rights as men? If you answer yes: Boom feminist. Simple. As a feminist I feel compelled to fight for everyones right to equality and freedom even if it doesn’t directly effect me. Again it boils down to this: Don’t be a Dick. AND DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO.
For lack of anything better to write. Shit I dislike. The ultimate first world problem list. When someone talks during the essential dialogue of a movie or TV show. (looking at you Grizzly bear!!) When my coffee gets cold before I’ve had a chance finish 1/2 […]
I have been told a time or two, that I need to work on my people skills. I accept that my ability to respond appropriately to displays of emotional distress is somewhat under developed. I am basically incapable of making small talk without sounding like […]
As a native Floridian I have no real concept of winter. Winter is that thing you see in pictures and in movies and go visit on trips, maybe. I was under the impression that California would be somewhat similar in weather patterns to Florida, with spurts of cold here and there but always reverting back to balmy weather in the end. NOOOPE. It’s cold. Not the ass clenching, mind numbing level of cold the great snowy North East and North West. But cold enough to warrant jackets, sweaters, scarves and gloves a necessity not a fashion suggestion.
As I have mentioned before, the new Bear Den apartment, did not come equip with air conditioning. It did come with heat! I have never in my life had to turn on the heat in an apartment. So when we started having to close all the doors and windows and burrow under 6 blankets to keep warm at night, I realized maybe it was time to give that random nob on the wall a spin. It seems, we did not account for the fact that it probably hasn’t been turned on in 10 months. And that dust is a thing… About four seconds after we cranked the nob over to toasty town, the smoke detectors started to go off.
Que the panic.
I work in the safety field. I have been conditioned over the last three years to associate the sound of fire alarms with evacuations, fire departments and lots of paper work and follow up meetings. I was fairly convinced we were about to reduce the apartment complex to a pile of angry holiday cinders. Not the best way to introduce yourself to your neighbors. We turned the heat off, opened the windows (letting more cold air in) and covered the smoke alarms until the apartment no longer looked the inside of Willy Nelson’s tour bus. I refused to touch the heat again. Our apartment was slowly turning into a Drafty tundra wasteland that is inhabited by a strange race of blanket people. Thankfully, the Bear is braver and smarter than I am. He slowly burned off all of the dust while I was at work one day. Hypothermia is no longer a concern while sleeping! Nor, is waking to a conflagration of dog fur and sadness.
In other news, I was forced to put away all of my Halloween and fall harvest decorations for another year. I had to replace it with the Yule vomit of Christmas trees and Santa hats. I remember having more stuff but I guess a lot of it didn’t make the trip. So I will now have to put pants on and go fight the hordes of angry holiday shoppers to go get more sparkly crap to decorate our den. I am prepared to FA LA LA LAFUCK YOU UP for a discount because paying full price for Styrofoam and glitter is crazy talk.
This will be Coconut’s (a.k.a the stupid cute dog) first Christmas with us. And judging by how she is eyeing the tree, I am going to say her first Christmas ever. Hopefully she doesn’t consider the tree and light up toy like Angel on top a challenge worth accepting. I am pretty sure she watched us decorate the house and was convinced that we just strategically placed toys and things to chew on and destroy all over the house. I have caught her twice trying to snuffle and chew her stocking. I have no idea how she knows that one is her’s, but she is hell bend on destroying it. This would be amusing if it wasn’t attached to the liquor cabinet. Or as like to call it “the gateway to holiday cheer!”.
A few weeks after we got married, my husband and I adopted an 8 year old corgi. They are basically the spokes dogs of the interwebs. And have entire sites like this.. http://corgiaddict.com/ dedicated to them.
Looking into their little fox faces and watching them scurry around 4 inches off the ground, you would think they are all balls of fluffy snuggles. That little smile they give you? Those deep soulful brown eyes?
They are a dirty, viscous, lie.
That little fur ball smiling at you with his dapper gentlemen’s tie, is one of the most moody disgruntled little assholes you have ever met. He hates EVERYONE.
I love him to pieces.
It was weeks before we could pet him more than three times, without fear of pulling back a bloody stump instead of a hand.
He was already incredibly well house and leash trained when we got him. But we suspect that he was abused before we got him. (People who abuse animals should have their finger and toe nails ripped out and their wounds should be injected with gangrene).
So we gave his space, time and treats. After three months and a talk with a dog “behaviorist” not to be confused with a trainer. (because these are apparently a real jobs. My career councilor in high school never mentioned this.) He has come around and now snuggles on the regular and is rather demanding about belly rubs. He still growls at some strangers mostly men, other dogs, ducks, and hates children. (good boy)
He was determined to murder the vet after an uncomfortable experience involving a rubber glove and his butt hole (totally understandable). Mango refused the vets paltry offering of cheese-wiz as a means to make amends. If you don’t own a dog, allow me to explain: cheese product is basically a bump of dog heroine. They all have the itch and Mango gave him the doggie middle finger.
A few weeks ago I was perusing the Facebooks and saw a local rescue http://www.poochesinpines.com was featuring a floppy eared basset hound. After I stopped making a high pitched SQUEALING noise, I showed my husband and gave him the sad kitten eyes. To his credit he tried, valiantly! to resist being pulled into the combined vortex of sad kitten eyes and the hush puppy cuteness on the screen. He sighed and said I could email the rescue and set up an appointment for Mango to meet the rescue pup. (Given Mango’s history of being an dbag, I was not confident they would like each other.)
Little did I know, that I had been harboring a sexual deviant armed with a red rocket and ready to hump. He seemed to try to lure her into a false sense of security at the first meeting. Only occasionally sniffing her lady garden and reaching over with one paw hoping she wouldn’t notice.
That courtship was out the window the day we brought Coconut home. There was some initial butt sniffing and ear licking at first. That quickly turned into wrestling and jumping. Keep in mind both of these breeds have legs that cap at about 6 inches long. so when they wrestle with each other its like watching a couple of midget T-rex’s try to a slap fight.
The wrestling eventually degraded into an all out hump fest for Mango. Unfortunately for him, he has been ball-less for so long, he only gets the idea… but is not sure on the execution or location.
So he improvised! By humping whatever he can wrap his little fur paws around. It could be her ear, leg, torso, or head. He doesn’t give a shit. Once the humper starts going, even if she walks away, he is stuck in the humposphere and walks around loving up on air until he calms down.
Coconut turned out to be the best balance to Mango’s dick head personality. She just wants to play or cuddle. She is completely docile and sweet. Unfortunately she hasn’t totally grasped the concept of not peeing in the house. And if she does something wrong she give you this look:
I have learned a few things about life in a two dog house hold. For starters, you don’t go on walks so much as sweep the neighborhood for new smells and stray chicken bones. While simultaneously peeing on everything that may have come in contact with another dog. And may God help keep your arm attached if their is a squirrel within 100 feet of you at any time.
Our dogs do not understand the concept of sharing toys. If it’s mine I want it, if it’s yours I want it and will steal it away. If I steal it away I will leave it on the sofa beyond the reach of your tiny legs. If both dogs go after one toy, one will end up in the vets office with a knocked in tooth. And dogs will hold a grudge for up to a week if they get a tooth knocked loose. (in her defense, he hasn’t figured out her head his bigger than his.)
Going to the bathroom is now a family event. If the door is closed they will push it open to check on you. “Mommy, whatcha doing? whats that? You smell nice mommy.. mommy! Mommy pet me! MOMMY!!!”
Thunder buddies are for life! A lightning storm results in a massive cuddle fest on the sofa with both dogs tucked as closely next to you as they can get.
Crate training makes my soul hurt and Coconut knows it. Daddy puts her in the crate with barely a whimper. If I put her in the crate and she flops on the ground, rolls over on her back, and plays dead. And then howls and cries so loud I can hear her from my car. (we live on the third floor..) Dogs will guilt trip you better than your Italian Catholic mother. And they will work together for optimal effect.
There are not enough grocery bags in the world for the amount of dog crap you will pick up on a daily basis. I don’t know whats in dog food, but these dogs poop a hedgehog twice a day. like clock work.
Dogs are awesome. Adopt one from your local rescue. They need to know what it is to be safe and loved.