Archive for December, 2005

I painted the front door of our house THIS SHADE OF YELLOW. I’m not sure if it matches the trim or not, but it makes our house distinguishable from the near-identical one next to it. Also, it gives everyone who drives down the road perpendicular to ours another reason to think we’ve lost our marbles. Odder still, all the yellow paint under my fingernails makes it look like I’ve been scratchin’ my peehole.

Also, I noticed that the elf in all of the Comedy Central holiday promos is named Dingleberry. How the hell did they get away with that??

My story about First Night ended up being so good, it landed on the front page of not one, but two papers: the Downtown Planet and the Oak Hill Gazette. Good times.

Seriously, I need a new bed. I haven’t slept for 8 hours straight without drugs since… I don’t know when. Nothing’s been bothering me as of late, so I gotta blame the bed. Gus and I toss and turn like those people at the beginning of the Tempur-pedic commercials. You know, for the beds made out of material approved by the Space Foundation, also known as FOAM?

Much to my surprise, the Space Foundation is real, or someone put a lot of time into making up content for their website. Regardless, even though their grandiose mission is to promote commercial space endeavors and educational excellence (among other things), what do they know about a comfortable bed? They’re supposed to know stuff about space, which has less gravity than earth. I’d guess that even if they were designing beds for astronauts in space, it wouldn’t matter as much how comfortable they were because they’re only resting with a fraction of their weight on the surface. Do people in space even need beds? Can’t they just chill in a room with padded walls for awhile until they’re not tired anymore? They don’t even have to deal with the outside factors of the sun coming up and what time it is. It’s probably easier to get 8 hours’ sleep in space, but not because of a bed made out of foam.

So, Gus and I have been planning to get a new bed for awhile, but we’ve hit some delays. We’re both picky and incapable of making decisions when it comes to purchasing big-ticket items and we don’t enjoy shopping much in general. With the holiday season in full swing, any kind of shopping is going to be a royal pain in the ass. Visions of circling full parking lots for 30 minutes and being elbowed by last-minute Christmas shoppers (all obligation, no spirit) make waiting for that perfect bed acceptable.

I hate Christmas. More specifically, I hate the obnoxious fucks in the right-wing media who are trying to convince the public that there’s a war on it just because some people like to say “Happy Holidays.” I think it’s a better catch-all statement than “Merry Christmas.” Of course, I’m not gonna go apeshit on someone who addresses me with the latter. They celebrate Christmas and in case I do too, they want me to have a merry one. That’s cool. I celebrate the holidays because work forces me to by closing the office December 24th through January 3rd. Thus, I say, “Happy Holidays” and in case some other people are celebrating some holidays, I hope theirs are happy ones.

This morning I found the door to the downstairs women’s restroom ajar. There was a note taped to it that read, “DO NOT CLOSE THIS DOOR!! THE DOORKNOB IS BROKEN! IF YOU CLOSE THE DOOR YOU WILL NOT BE ABLE TO GET OUT!!!!

I’m assuming this note was written by the unlucky woman who spent the first two hours of her workday locked in the bathroom with nothing to read. That’s why I’m going to start bringing my Sidekick every time I go to the bathroom. If not to call someone in the event that I get trapped in there, to sit and read lowbrow moments while I took a nice uninterrupted dump.

I went to the drive-thru of my bank today. I pressed the call button and asked for a withdrawal slip. The teller sent me a tube containing a withdrawal slip, a pen, and three dog bones. I’d like to think it was a mistake, as the car next to mine contained a dog. Or they’re trying to tell me something…

Big thanks to “Anonymous” for buying me another month’s subscription to TotalFark! It is truly the best birthday/Christmas/Hannukah/Kwan-zaa present five dollars can buy.

Since you’ve been so kind in giving something to me, I’d like to give something to you. How about a name? Perhaps it’s even one that I’ve heard before?

I do like surprises, and the idea of receiving gifts from a mysterious stranger is quite intriguing, but I have a small but forceful anal retentive side that needs to know the backstory. That’s why I chase the rabbit in poker, peek when I shouldn’t, and ask extremely inappropriate questions. I can’t not know!

So tell me, kind soul! Tell me so that I may once again sleep at night!!

1. Food Shui delivers. Their pho is delicious (the ingredients in my tofu and vegetable pho were really fresh) and they’re independently owned. Since they’re competing in the fast food market, you can just walk up to the counter and get your food. Usually, you have to get pho from a sit-down restaurant, so you end up paying more for your food and then you have to tip a waiter. Austinites, go here!

2. My car no longer squeaks! After visiting Midas 400 times, my brakes are in excellent shape. Ceramic brake pads. Would’ve made more sense in the beginning if they didn’t seem like such an upsell.

3. Today we’re having a holiday lunch buffet at work. I’m a sucker for free food.

1. The weather in Austin is… how you say? Tres shitty. My driveway was iced over, so of course the first thing I did when I walked outside was step on it and fall flat on my back.

2. I’m going to Vegas this weekend, but I can’t stay through Monday because I’d have to take leave without pay from work. (I haven’t accrued any vacation yet.)

3. This thing is in a vein similar to that of Thing 1, but it deserves its own mention. I walked into work this morning like I’d just seen a ghost because the truck right in front of me slid on the ice and completely lost control. He 360ed a couple of times and actually went over the grassy median that divides the street. When he finally stopped spinning, he was facing oncoming traffic. The driver was going a normal speed, he just hit a patch of ice. Since I saw him sliding, I slowed down and changed lanes. If I hadn’t seen him, I would have driven over that patch at the same speed and spun out just like he did. Scary.

My birthday party was off the hook. All the cool kids were there. (Thanks, Miranda!) I’m three for three on Metroplaza birthday parties. No hangover this time too. Bonus.

Why haven’t I written anything good in awhile? All of my energy has been going into writing an article about First Night for the Downtown Planet. That’s a lie, but it sounds good, doesn’t it? Anyway, I hope they let me publish the story here once they put it in the paper.

I have an adorable lab mix who often finds herself at odds with other dogs. I got her when she was four years old, so I have no idea what kind of trauma she’s had to endure. I just know that when I took her out of her cage at Town Lake Animal Shelter, she was sweet and well-behaved… and very deserving of a loving owner.

So, I took her home and paraded around the neighborhood. People stopped on the street just to pet my dog. Of course they did! She’s great! My friends came over to pet her and play with her. Gus and I hung out with her all the time and everything was just swell. She was indeed “man’s best friend.”

However, I soon learned that she couldn’t “play nice” with other dogs. At first, I made all kinds of excuses for her behavior. She was put in a shelter when she had obviously been with a family at some point (most wild, born-under-a-porch dogs don’t sit or lie down on command). And then I took her to a totally new environment that she had to adjust to. And those other dogs were stupid anyway and had done things to instigate the scuffle (well, that was obviously what happened in one case).

Regardless how accurate any of that is, when my dog is biting the face off some other playful pooch at the dog park, it doesn’t matter why she is the way she is. She’s hurting some other animal, and that’s no good.

After owning my dog for over a year now, I’ve found it’s best not to exhaust myself trying to socialize her. She won’t even try to keep her cool around even the nicest dogs and it just causes me undue stress having to keep her from mauling them to death. It’s best just to keep her around humans where she’s comfortable and they’re comfortable.

I really wish I knew her complete background, but it’s just not possible. Still, no matter how mean she has been to other dogs, I know how nice she is to me. So even though I know her behavior is wrong, I just accept it because, well, she can get along with me. Of course she can. I’m human. My own perceptions are the only ones I can fully understand. I can’t relate to a dog that my precious pup is about to eat for lunch. But it’s still not fair to expose my dog to these defenseless animals just because I want her to be social with dogs. Her behavior shows that she doesn’t. I’d be a fool to think that people should make their dogs lie submissive so my dog can have her way with them just because I think she’s cool. Cause she’s not. Knowing it without completely knowing it and accepting it with grace is probably the best thing I can do.