After my morning walk I always go through Panera for a tea and cookie as a reward because I’m a giant, slobbering toddler that needs bribery and doesn’t understand the irony of processed sugar after walking my ass off. So I drive thru and get my usual but when I get to the window the ladies that work there are arguing. Someone pushed the Lemonade button on my order but I never get lemonade and they were confused. It was a little disturbing to know they know my order by heart and feel strongly enough to argue about it. Like it’s a certainty they can always count on, the sky is blue, the sun comes up in the east and the clown car lady with the dogs always gets tea. The only other person in the world that knows my order by heart is my brother, so I’m spending as much time with the Panera crew as I do my own family. That’s terrifying and completely pops my delusion that I’m even mildly a responsible adult with my shit together. They finally realize they can just ASK me as I’m sitting there blankly staring at them with Zeus dripping drool on my shoulder, also staring at them. Things got mildly better when they decided to just give me my order for free since they made me sit there while they figured it out and also because, “You come here all the time.” Fuck me, I’m an addict. I thanked my dealers for the free hit profusely because even though I’m an awkward disappointment of grown up I can at least pull off gratitude like a normal person. As I pulled away I heard one of them say, “She’s so sweet!” and that made everything ok, obviously they don’t know me at all.
Tag: shenanigans
Twizzler Emergencies and the Importance of Education.
So I’m in the checkout line buying Chapstick and Twizzlers (don’t ask, it’s been a rough week) and the cashier bags the Twizzlers but hands me the Chapstick and I just stare at the kid like what the… and then I’m all “whoa there young fella” never mind that it was a girl, it was a Twizzler emergency and also I’m a feminist. So then there was an odd moment of terrified staring from the kid and confused staring from me …and possibly the sound of crickets somewhere off in the distance. Then slowly the kid took the Twizzlers from the bag and cautiously handed them to me. I forcibly placed them in my purse with a huff and finish the transaction. Then walked away with the satisfaction of someone who just taught a young child a very valuable lesson about the importance of Twizzlers. And also access to mental health care.
Angus the Prancing Puppy vs a Frozen Baby Pool
Over the summer I bought my incredibly not spoiled dogs a pool to splash around in. Sometimes when we go walking they’ll take my arm off trying get in dirty water so I thought maybe I could fix that by getting them something clean to roll around in. But apparently a bright pink baby pool with crystal clear water just doesn’t have the allure of dirty, scum covered, swamp stinking, pond water because they wouldn’t touch it. I even tried picking them up and putting them in there with me but they would struggle like the rabbit in Fatal Attraction and jump right out again. As usual I was quite the entertainment for my neighbors when in all my portly glory, I tried to wrestle a 100 lbs Lab into a tiny pink baby pool looking very much like someone having a seizure while trying to tango with a fat dog only to have him whine like I was trying to drown him and jump out again after we were both good and soaked. I finally gave up and being a meticulously conscientious house keeper I tossed it in the corner of the yard and left it there to slowly rot with the rest of my tiny ghetto shanty. Lately it’s filled up with rain and leaves and slime and with the cold weather the filthy little thing froze over. Or started to. There was still a bit of water beneath the ice which my dear sweet Angus unhappily found out. For some reason he jumped up and was prancing around on it in his fabulous Angus fashion, like the star of canine River Dance when it gave way. It was just enough to wet his feet and legs but I think he must have jumped two feet in the air then ran straight to me in the house like ninja hounds of hell on steroids were chasing him, then stood and barked at it like a badass through the screen door and dribbled fear pee on my hardwoods while I dried him off. What a brave little soul he is. Sniffle, I’m so proud.
Dying Alone is Looking Pretty Good Right Now.
Thought I might start planning to think about contemplating a scheme to start dating again. I figured I’d read some pretentious and unrealistic dating advice articles then peruse some dating sites then maybe by March, when it will have been a year that I’ve been single I might dip my toe back in the dating cesspool. So I read some depressing and ridiculous articles then went to look at dating sites. Started with Match. The options in my age range and area were quite frankly terrifying. I know these rural areas are known for their inbreds but it kind of looked like an entire extended family of the genetically challened got a group rate. Sooo..no. Thought I might have better luck on an interest specific site like dog lovers. W.T.F. I fear many of the candidates there may have taken the name of the site a little too literally. (Shudders) Sooo..hell no. Surely a site for vegitarians would have some potential right? Oh for the love of fuck no. There were like 5 men under 70 and they were all rejects from the other sites. Soooo… if anyone needs me I’m going to just be over here researching tips for being the best dog hoarding spinster I can be and trying to decide if being a gluttonous, angry hermit is really that bad of a lifestyle. Yay me! But also, FML.
Why Apology Pie isn’t the Amazing Idea it Sounds Like.
Learned a valuable lesson night before last about altercations with neighbors over barking dogs at 1130 at night. They were of course right to be upset but addressing the situation with profanity aimed at my dogs only sparks my inner asshole and escalates the problem. After a few exchanges (mine were wittier) she finally saw reason and asked me politely to take my dogs in the house which I did because I’m all magnanimous and shit. Of course about 5 minutes later I could hear my momma’s voice reminding me she did NOT raise a foul-mouthed, ill mannered, white trash, hooligan (she did but not for lack of trying ) so by morning I had worried myself into a tummy ache. I decided after work that a pie was a reasonable apology for late night insult exchanges and ran it by their house.
Bad idea. VERY very no good dirty rotten idea. Once I explained why I was there and handed her my peace offering she puckered up and started to cry, hugged me without permission and 30 minutes later I knew all about her baby being sick, her brothers legal problems, got introduced to said ne’er-do-well brother who impressively tried to pretend he had manners and not a meth problem, was forced into another unsolicited hug, talked about issues with another neighbor and the death of her dog. So the moral of the story boys and girls is if you go stupid in the middle of the night and insult your neighbor’s brother’s penis (he brought it up so it was fair game) among other things and then feel the need to get an apology pie do not take it in person. Either send that shit in the mail with a real pretty note or toss it from the road as you drive by and don’t look back.
How I Missed a Chance to become a Rural Hooker.
The interesting thing about being me is not just the complete incompetence with which I blithely bumble through life but also the colorful characters that for some freakish twist of fate seem to be drawn to me. For example, I like walking my dog in pretty places but I hate other people so finding quiet but safe but pretty places to roam is sometimes tricky. (<That’s foreshadowing. Remember this in a minute.) A great place that provides pretty views with no people is the Vichy Community park. There is kind of a creepy “settlement” on one end but I figured as long as we stayed on the other end, in clear view of the highway we’d be fine. Hahahahah. I’m an idiot. Plenty of times it was totally uneventful, as long as it was early in the day but I noticed if we went after work sometimes cars would suddenly slow down on the highway, drive around to the other entrance then slowly creep through the park give us serious side eye. No one ever bothered us so I reckoned it was just nosy towns people making sure we weren’t vandalizing the park or anything. Hahahahaha, I’m seriously an idiot. Other times I’d notice a couple of cars in the parking lot but no one in them. I was afraid they were poachers or something else illicit so I didn’t stick around. Turns out I was partly right but the only thing getting poached was someone’s virtue. Finally late one afternoon one of the obnoxious oglers stopped and I shit you not, yelled, “You sure got a real pretty dog ma’am!” From 50 yards away this being yelled from a nice car without tinted windows seemed vaguely witty and not TOO creepy. HAHAHAHAHA god almighty my idiocy knows no bounds. We yelled a few comments back and forth but for some reason I couldn’t quite understand him and Donald was curious about this new person so he drug me over to the car. I mean if Donald isn’t bothered by them they can’t be that bad. Right? At least the mystery of why I couldn’t understand him was cleared up. In the car sat an older but clean cut man who was completely missing all of his upper teeth. I don’t know if he had misplaced his upper set of dentures, sold them for drugs or was on a tooth by tooth payment plan but whatever, he had a full bottom set but no upper teeth. The amount of surprised amusement I had to choke on was a. overwhelming and b. probably the karmic reason this crazy shit happens to me. I should have known something was up in the overly friendly way he smiled/showed off his naked gums but, well, we all know my lack of common sense is pretty epic so I just figured I’d chat with Gummy McGum face as my good deed for the day and then skedaddle but every time I tried to walk away he’d start talking again. I heard all about his cat that was missing and by the way Donald kept sniffing under the car I suspect I know where the cat is. And all about his dog who had died and how sad it made him and how he’d rescued her and she didn’t like his girlfriend which should have been a hint because the girlfriend eventually ran over the dog and he had to put the dog down and the girlfriend left him and now he was soooo lonely. This is the point when a normal person would have thought OH FUCK! This guy is looking for a hook up. But no, not me. I just stood there feeling bored and trying to subtly inch away. Thankfully the guy abruptly stopped talking and said he should let me finish my walk. It was weird but I was too relieved to care and high tailed to my car. Still blissfully unaware of what had just happened. Later I recounted the weirdness to someone I now only loosely refer to as a friend as he knew that I walked there regularly but also knew that this is a fairly well known “hook up” spot and also a place where truckers meet up with hookers. When I told him what had been happening he just guffawed for about 5 minutes then explained what that place was and that law enforcement tries to keep on the place and that the guy probably busted a nut when a deputy drove by, hence the abrupt end to his morbid, dead dog filled wooing. He DID say that he thought that kind of thing only happened late at night and since I was there during the day he figured it was fine. So, now, being me I AM relieved nothing worse than that ever happened but there’s this part of me that’s actually pretty offended that out of all the drivebys only the old toothless guy stopped. Really? Are there a lot of better looking whores in this rural area??? Another equally ridiculous part thinks that I can always use extra cash and Christmas IS coming so some old semi toothless guy might as well too. And there could be advantages debauched gymnastics with a toothless person. And…. we’ve come full circle to just how utterly ridiculous am.
Of Opossums and Ordeals
Fun, middle of the night adventures in my yard. Some how a small opossum made it into my yard. Which is bizarre by itself as it’s a 6′ fence and i hadn’t realize they were such good climbers but whatever, one made it into the yard . Now it’s not unusual for the dogs to run out the door like a herd of wildebeests being chased by hyenas. But usually once they get out there they scatter into the yard. This time however they all stayed in a cluster around something so I knew doggy dipshittery was afoot. I get out there and realize it’s some poor opossum and Lindy is just laying on top of it trying to protect her find from the other dogs. I got him away from them and it was all curled up. I know they play dead sometimes so I was really careful but it let me rake it into a trash can without any movement so I figured they had killed it. I was going to walk it through the house and put it out back to bury in the morning but halfway across the yard I felt the trash can start to move in my hand. My poor neighbors. I screeched and started to run for the fence and then lobbed the whole thing, 13 gallon trash can with frantic possum inside over the 6′ fence. I’m really sorry for that poor possum. The whole night had to be a traumatic event between being cornered by my dogs then being shoved in a trash can and then an impromptu flight over a fence with a terrifying screeching noise. But seeing as how this morning I feel like I might have pulled something in my back I’m not all that sorry. However I do think I’ve invented a new sport and I’m looking into trademarking Possum in a Can Shot Putting. The only rule is you have to wear house slippers and sing like the fat lady at the end of an opera to compete.
Diary of a Dog Hoarding Spinster 