we’re so damned low class we’re drinkin’ our red wine outta white wine glasses!
Also, David ordered new checks tonight and he’s getting “What’s wrong with being Awesome?” printed in the extra line under the address and “From the Orphans’ Christmas Fund…to You” above the signature line. Personally, I think he should have gotten the “Life on the Farm” checks, but what are you gonna do?
Today, Chester went to the dog park for the first time. He was happy enough to see the people, but too scared and nippy around the other dogs. We’ll just have to keep taking him and socializing him. We’ll get him enrolled in obedience classes, too, that will help immensely. it was 15 fucking degrees out. We didn’t stay long.
blah blah blah
(analworld, vaginal plunger, clown car, meatball subs, biggus dickus)
The roadmap
Let’s talk about how you got here, shall we. How did you find this site? How did you get from whatever it was you were looking at to here.
Did you search for something?
Did you follow a link?
Was it just some random pounding on the keyboard?
Click the image for a larger view
That image is a list of search terms that brought people to this site.
Velvet Cerebellum? okay, that makes sense. It’s the name of the site, but it is not precisely the name in the URL so searching for the name of the site makes sense. Searching for velvet-c confuses me. You already know the url, why are you searching for it?
Beebombom also perplexes me because it’s a word I made up, it’s in exactly one post, it’s utter nonsense and only occasionally will actually turn up a result on Google.
Chris Noth, Subaru Brat, floating raviolis, neils yard dairy, formfit panties…these are all things I have written about at one time or another. Knitting? Yeah, I knit and I’ve talked about it. Monkeysnaps? no idea.
Plastic vaginal plungers manufacturers??? What the fuck???? Seriously! What the fuck is that? I have no idea what that is, I have no idea what a plastic vaginal plunger is and I certainly don’t know who manufactures them!
Who are you people? Why are you researching plastic vaginal plungers??? WHY??? Seriously, if you or someone you know is researching plastic vaginal plungers or the manufacture of said plungers and you have stumbled upon this website, let me know! You dn’t have to reveal anything about yourself, just tell me about these plungers.
Also, “don’t want to hear about vagina”? Who DOESN’T want to hear about vagina? Speaking of vagina, there was a 100 pound vagina replica on the 3rd floor at work today. I make sure to mention it was a replica because I am sure that somewhere at work there is an actual 100 pound vagina.
“covered elastic underpants”. aaaaah yeah…hammer time.
QotD and Ponderings
“Depend upon it that if a man talks of his misfortunes there is something in them that is not disagreeable to him.”
Samuel Johnson
There are those of us who are listeners and dispensers of advice. We are the people that others go to when they need their problems put into perspective or they need advice on how to proceed. We are the one who can look at a quandary from all angles and make suggestions from an objective point of view.
It’s not bad work.
In fact it can be rewarding to see that advice you give fingered to life by this other person.
There are those people, however, that come to you with their problems, their needs, their complaints. They come to you and you listen and ask questions, mull things over and give advice and where most people would consider this advice and perhaps even go with it, there are those whose only reaction is to argue.
They have problems, but they also have an almost bottomless bag of reasons why they cannot move forward and fix these problems. You, the giver of advice, will find yourself in an exhausting race towards a moving finish line. You can’t keep up. Every solution you give is fraught with danger.
And then you realize that it is inaction more than anything that the person with the problem craves. And, as Samuel Johnson so eloquently put it, there is something not disagreeable to the person. They enjoy being where they are. They don’t complain about their problemns because they want resolution, but they complain about their problems in the same manner that we might speak of our vacations or promotions. They are the best things these people have.
A thank you to Alex for reminding me that sometimes it’s not my fault that I don’t have the right answers. Sometimes, the right answer just isn’t,
waves
I knew the grief would not end quickly. I knew it would take a great deal of time to work my heart through the pinched hole of pain. In the week after Ghengis died, things started to get brighter. The crying jags were less common, I could laugh and spend time with my friends. I could search for a new puppy.
It hurt, but I figured I was getting on remarkably well.
I did not know that grief would come to me in waves. That my reprieve was only a recession. Ghengis was my comfort when I was sad, He would snuffle my tears, drape himself across my lap and sigh deeply as he curled into me. Stark reality slaps me in the face as I get sad and look for Ghengis to comfort me. He’s not there.
He will never be there.
And my pain folds over on itself.
I am surrounded by people and creatures who love me. David, Maddie and Chester along with my friends and family have been wonderful. Those who know me know what Ghengis meant to me, they may not have understood my relationship with the Littlest of the Fellas, but they knew it was strong.
My friends and family are so comforting and supportive, Chester is an extraordinary diversion for me and Maddie is a calm port in this storm, but nothing can bring my Ghengis back. Nothing they do or say can erase the memories of his pained yelps, or his last three, gasped breaths, or the way he looked when I said my last goodbye and pulled the blanket over his head for the last time.
The grief has come back to me hard these last couple days. It is beating me down. I try to keep it in check, do my job, clean, make dinner, carry on pleasant conversations with people. But it slips in there. I can’t control it.
I want to take back these few weeks. I want to go back and choose to use his collar instead of his harness. I want to choose to stay on the phone with my mom 5 minutes longer. I want to go back and give him all the turkey from the sandwich I had for dinner that night instead of just a few bites. I want to go back to the day I skipped the Frosty Paws because they were pricey and I want to slap myself, he deserved those Frosty Paws and I didn’t buy them.
I want to go back to when he was just 11 weeks old, so small and scared. I want to go back to when he put his tiny snout on my neck and fell asleep and I did not move because I did not want to wake this perfect little dog.
I want my dog back.
We’re funding the future
Off to the vet again today. I’m pretty sure that my dogs are funding the college education of at least one of the vets’ kids and possibly some of the children of the veterinary pharmaceutical industry as well. Dammit.
First off, Chester got his free initial puppy exam. He’s healthy and happy and it’s been determined that he is 6 months old and not 4 months. He has all his adult teeth and that’s the determiner apparently. He was well behaved and not too freaked out.
Maddie was back in for her feet. They’ve ruled out a systemic yeast infection and mites, so we’re back to allergy/immune system/bacterial issues. So now we have her on cyclosporine, an immuno-suppressant that they give organ transplant recipients to help them avoid rejecting the new organ. Since allergic reactions are immune related we’re going to give this a shot. She’s also on 3 weeks worth of antibiotics to help with this latest round of infection.
I just worry about her so much. When he feet are healthy she’s much more active and responsive. That’s a given, really. If your feet looked like hers you wouldn’t want to do anything. I made a promise to Maddie when I got her that I would always take care of her, that she would never be neglected or hurt, that the rest of her life will be spent being loved and adored. It is very important to me that I keep that promise.
On the other hand, now that Chester’s settled in, she doesn’t get as much rest as she’d like. He’s an active puppy. Very active. I was worried that there was something wrong since he didn’t really DO anything the first weekend we got him, he was so damned lazy. Now he tears from one end of the house to the other and back again and Maddie is right on him ready to wrestle and scrabble with him. He’s probably still too bitey, and I’m training him not to bite me so hard, but Maddie’s going to have to deal with that herself. There are moments you can tell he’s bitten her too hard and she just wants to kick his ass but she refrains. I don’t know why she does, but there it is, some amazing self control.
The dogs are passed out after their afternoon vet ordeal. I’m going to go have some soup.
