succubus

I read an article once detailing how dogs were not man’s best friend but, in fact, highly evolved parasites. They learned how to manipulate humans and as a result were taken in, fed, housed, loved in exchange for very little. Sure, there are working dogs out there that work hard for the food, shelter and love they receive, but I think that they are in the minority.
Let’s use….hmmm…Ghengis as an example here. He knows exactly which facial expressions will get him more hugs and cuddling and he uses them liberally. He also knows exactly how to sit up and pout his lip a little (yes, he pouts his lower lip) to get a dorito from me.
In his slickest move thus far, he offered me a chunk of chewed up rawhide in exchange for another dorito. He kept plopping the gross little rawhide nubbin on my lap then looking at the bag of chips. I naturally gave him a dorito which he ate. Then he deftly picked up the rawhide he had given me, settled in net to me and started chewing on it.
He offered something to me in exchange for a dorito knowing that i would not want to keep it. He got his dorito AND his rawhide AND i will continue to look down upon him as though he were a little furry angel sent to make me happy.
I’m such a sucker.

splat

Sigh, i killed my first squirrel this morning. I didn’t mean to, I’m totally that crazy chick who stops for squirrels in the middle of the road. A bus was bearing down on him and he panicked and jumped into my lane. I wasn’t even sure what happened until I saw him in my rearview mirror.
Sad.
I’m still floating in this happy bubble from the weekend. Happy happy happy bubble.
Happy bubbles help alleviate squirrel murder guilt.
So does Mexican food. Bryan, David and I are off to chow down on tamales and molé (or Ethiopian, I can’t decide, but I seem to recall David saying he doesn’t like injeera and that’s kind of a staple of ethiopian food. He needs to call me so i can figure this out and call Bryan and set up the plans. Sigh.)
Speaking of plans, birthday party on saturday. We’re going bowling. I don’t know where yet. You’ll be informed.
This dude is the coolest guy ever. I want him to go bowling with me.
David bought banilla flavored yogurt. It’s banana/vanilla, they call it banilla. I’m in love with banilla, I love to say it. Banilla.
Banilla.

eeeeebo bom bom

So, my whole pointless goal this weekend was to go to the coffee shop, chill with the boy and dog and eat waffles. Don’t know why, I just wanted to. Saturday David was more in the mood for something substantial and eggy so we headed to Maria’s Colombian Cafe and he had eggy and I had plantain pancakes with cojito. Yesterday we were over in Highland Park buying 37 pound bags of dog food and every dog treat ever produced (there was a sale), so we eat at the Highland grill (eggs benedict for me, good, but I’m spoiled by the Uptown Diner’s benedict so I think I’m just going to stick to theirs from now on).
So, this morning was the time for the chilling and the waffles and the sun on my face. Of course today was also the day they ran out of waffle batter and the supplier couldn’t get ingredients to them until tomorrow because of the holiday. Sigh. But, I’m nothing if not adaptable so David bundled me off into the car and headed out. We ended up at the Longfellow grill (which is the exact same restaurant as the Highland grill and the Edina grill, but Longfellow has a slightly larger menu). You have two waffle options there, smothered in ooey gooey bananas or not smothered in ooey gooey bananas. I wanted fruit but I did not want ooey gooey fruit, I just did not need that much sugar.
The waiter, a pleasant gentleman, but seemingly unaccustomed to restaurants getting busy was confused by my request but completely determined to fill it. He brought me my waffle accompanied by a plate with sliced banana and a plate with blueberries. Perfect! He explained that since they didn’t actually have a menu item that was waffes with fruit on top that they had to give each fruit it’s own plate. Okay then!
I happily gorged myself on my breakfast (at 1pm) and listened to the guy at the table next to us ramble on about the many thing that he was the expert on to his internet date. He was the expert on the menu, on turtle mochas, on spiders, on race car driving, on being in charge of things, on not shutting his goddammed mouth so his date could say something. She was bored, I felt bad for her but he was the kind of guy who would pay (and also act like he was owed something because of it. She looked like she could get out of that, though) so she would not be out anything but a couple hours of her life.
boom. what’s next? David wanted to go bike riding this afternoon. I keep trying to tell him I’m terrible at bike riding, I’m horribly out of shape. Also, it seems I have purchased the absolute worst bike ever made. I just wanted a bike and I don’t really know anything about them. I knew that if I went to an actual bike shop they’s want me to spent a lot of money on a bike and I stupidly figured that a bike was a bike. Working on this incorect assumption I headed down to Target to plop down $100 or so on whatever bike was the right height and coolest color. The result of this excursion was a funky blue (purple was too short) bike that weighs about 4.2 metric butt-kilos (this is a lot. elephants weigh less than this bike) with really fat, super nubbly tires (this is apparently bad for city riding as it creates lots of friction slowing my fat ass down even more). So, bike riding is quite a chore for my otherwise lazy ass.
Lucky for me, David talked to John and it was decided we would go hiking through Theo Worth park.
Also, lucky for me I found part of my birthday present. Yay. (YAY).
We hiked for a couple hours, very pretty in there. The only problem with hiking in parks in the city is that you have to keep ghengis on his leash the whole time.
Healthy hiking yin needs a dirty yang (dirty yang is the name of my new band or the name of a sex position I have yet to invent). My dirty yang was the first bbq of the season, the bbq in my new place. Brats (and tofu pups for Mr Vegetarian Pants), corn on the cob, cherries, watermelon, chips, onions and green peppers too for David.
ALSO MARSHMALLOWS!!!
So far, the movie Sideways is convincing me that middle aged men are to be avoided at all costs. Someone, please, PLEASE assure me that guys don’t turn into this.
I’m off, my peepos!
PS kisses by the wild forget-me-nots. Sigh.

you’re a credit to dementia

I’m watching the first five seasons of the Simpsons again. “You’re a credit to dementia”, one of the many good lines. I miss the good years of the Simpsons.
So, what’s better than waffles at the coffee shop? Plantain pancakes with cojito at the Colombian cafe!
And what’s better than not eating dessert? Hot Fudge Sundae Cake!!! People, listen to me, this cake makes it’s own pudding. It uses patented and secret magic technology to turn mundane ingredients into cake AND pudding. Good lord, I would not even need the humping anymore if I could have the magical cake with its own pudding every day.
Well, except that I like the humping. Okay, if it made it’s own ice cream, I’d give up the humping.
The dog is running in his sleep, except all his paws are under him so mostly he’s just undulating like a furry little grub as he sleeps. Today at the dog park a very very very large dog laid on top of him. He just pushed G down, laid down and held him in place. So weird how dogs are.
My new hero. I want to drive like that. And she’s cute. Sigh. Also, Robby Gordon, grow up! If anyone wants to buy me an exhorbitant birthday present you can get me race driving lessons.
Speaking of my birthday…sigh…I’ll be 32 and will be older than David again. 9 months older, i’m such a pervert.
I need a cheap fly-away vacation. Give me some suggestions. I think I’m addicted to airports or something.
gnome out

it is a comfort

you know someone has a special like for you when they make you a spicy bean and tomato and cheese and spinach burrito at 11:15 pm because you are hungry and you don’t feel good and your kidneys and bladder are being problematic.
you know someone has a special like for you when you don’t even have to ask.
also, i must be getting old or something, i was looking at meatloaf recipes. What the fuck, people? I’m not that old and I’m looking at recipes for old people food. I hated meatloaf when I was a kid, now I’m looking at recipes and seriously considering making it for me.
of course, I’m beset on all sides by vegetarians so meatloaf will be for alan and I exclusively.
I’ll make something else special special for david later!