Staind

In case anyone was wondering the story behind my wall post on facebook yesterday (and why I didn't bother to post anything here last night) here it is...

About a month and a half ago I was changing the bed and noticed a dark yellow stain on our brand new mattress. It didn't feel wet nor did it smell, so I (stupidly) wrote it off as just an odd stain and ignored it.

A few weeks went by and I had pretty much completely forgotten about the stain. Then one night I was playing with Georgia on our bed and folding laundry when she suddenly turned around a few times (as if she was getting ready to curl up and nod off) and peed on our bed...right in front of me! I thankfully caught her in time to shoo her off the bed and gathered up the comforter before it could sink even to the sheets. I scolded her strongly, but was relieved that at least I managed to save the mattress and other linens. Again, my mind simply wrote it off as either a freak accident or the fault of a full and overly excited puppy bladder, nothing more. Until last night...

Though I was certain it was just a one-time incident, I still became obsessed with just checking the bed to make sure she hadn't had the same "accident". The other night I was walking back into the bedroom and petting Georgia when my hand did a casual swipe on the comforter...and hit a wet spot.

Panic stricken I yanked the dog off the bed and began furiously pulling up the sheets, in a race against time and urine before it seeped into the mattress itself. Sadly, I was too late...

Georgia had been naughty a few times this past week anyway, so we can't be sure if this is a dominance thing, a retaliation thing, or even a medical thing. All I know is that my heart was broken a little about this: not just because it seems like a slap in the face for all the good we've done for her and not just because this is something I really didn't see coming. It's because we JUST bought that mattress!! In a way, that thing was the first purchase Joe and I made together with our own money for our place. It represented a small step towards maturity and partnership. Unfortunately the dog has figuratively and literally pissed all over it. Grr.

If anyone out there has any experience with this kind of behavior (or better still, has tips on how to curb it) post theme here or on facebook.

That's it for me tonight guys (I KNOW, less than 1,000 words, what a treat!). Good night, sleep tight, don't let the dog pee on your mattress.

What's My Deal, Anyway?

I try too hard. I definitely do. I know this is a subject I have beaten to death (probably) but it really struck me just now as I was taking over over 6 minutes just to post something clever or meaningful on my wall on Facebook. I took at least 10 minutes to write something as a comment to someone's picture. And this is FACEBOOK we are talking about, not the ten commandments. Yet, I panic and freeze, just to type a simple LOL. I then spend the rest of the day worrying that in some realm of possibility my comment will come off bad and I'll end up looking like an asshole. I'm thinking I'm making George Constanza appear less obsessive and neurotic.

I have a feeling if someone for some reason was mentioning me to someone who had never met me their description would be the same, whether they liked me or not; only their inflections and delivery would be different.

EX 1: Person who likes me says in quiet desperation, "Oh she tries too HARD," while squinting the eyes and tilting their head slightly and sympathetically.

EX 2: Person who doesn't like me says more loudly and drawn out, "OH, she TRIIIES TOO hard," while rolling their eyes and rolling their head.

To the people who like me, I know what you mean. For the people who dislike me, I know what you mean, bite me (but still like me).

Anyway, speaking of trying too hard, I visited the place where trying too hard is an art form...the car dealership. Still on the hunt for my new car. Ready for a double whammy? I take Joe and convince him to sign on the loan with me, and lo and behold, we are approved! Call the guy I had been dealing with for the silver Hyundai Tuscon and....it was sold the previous night. God DAMN. In fact my mom had seen another one for sale (almost eerily the same..same year, about same mileage, and so same price. Kinda weird I'd stumble upon not one but 2 within my price range.

The salesman tells me to visit anyway to see what other cars they have but unfortunately I wasn't impressed with anything so today I decided to try my luck elsewhere.

I drove up solo to the Hyundai dealership in Towson, figuring if I were to find another Tuscon I'd have luck at an actual Hyundai dealership. I see one or two, but given the low mileage and young age, I'm doubtful. Still, the salesman asks if he can make it happen would I be interested? I say sure, if the numbers are right. I say off the bat that I have a loan ready and that I'd already done my research, even taken a Tuscon for a test drive before already. He seems to be uncomfortable with my not wanting to jump in for a test drive, so I quickly recover and say, "Um, I mean, sure, why not."

Now, I think the reason I hate the test drive is because I don't feel it's so much a test for the car, as much as a test for you, the driver. I feel like I'm back in driver's ed where every move and hesitation is recorded, and the guy next to me is just sitting in judgement. I glance at all the mirrors and windows at least a half dozen times in a 10 minute test drive. It doesn't help either when he shifts uncomfortably in his seat. I'll admit I'm not the best driver, but am I really cringe worthy?

We pull back into the dealership and it begins: the mating dance between salesmen and a possible sale. I am ready for the onslaught, but try to remain cool and unwavering. He explains the pricing and how I am CLOSE but that I'd either A.) have to put more money down or B.) apply for a bigger loan. Well, I don't have more cash than what I can put down and there's no way I'm pushing my luck for a bigger loan, especially if I think I can get a better deal elsewhere.

In the end, he did try. He even offered me a helluva lot more for my Altima than I think it's worth, but still I couldn't attempt to pick up the slack by putting myself in dire financial straits. When I was about to walk out the door he handed my keys and asked if I would wait. I did, thinking, 'here it comes...the big payout..' Instead he merely shook my hand and said thanks for dropping in.

So the search continues. I know you are out there, little SUV with a 4 cyl engine, sun roof, roof rack, 4 wheel drive, 86k miles or less, made by either Honda, Hyundai, or Kia for $9k...but where?

Corned Beef n' Why

I don't know why but lately whenever I've been on Facebook, I've been getting depressed and angry. I used to purposely avoid it just so the status updates would pile up and I could read a whole bunch at a time. Now when I do that and I scan over everyone's latest pictures, upcoming events, or simple actions, I get filled with a sense of jealousy. Everyone seems to be doing something so special or important, all the time, every day. Taking care of sick family members, cooking some extraordinary dish, going off on extreme adventures. It makes me feel outside of everything, even more than usual.

Aren't there any people out there doing the truly mundane? Surely there are people standing in their kitchen barefoot and wearing their old yellow shorts scrubbing the dishes that have been sitting in their sink for a few days...aren't there? I only ever updated my status if something particularly funny or interesting happened or popped in my brain (and didn't merit writing here). And honestly, that only happened rarely. How is it possible that some people have something special they are doing EVERY DAY. I guess that's what this blog is all about...glorifying the mundane because that's all I ever seem to really notice, rather than the super special. Anyway, speaking of mundane, how about I tell you about my battle at lunch today?

Recently at my job a small little coffee-shop kiosk opened in the lobby. At first I thought they only sold the typical coffee beverages and some pastries, but I noticed a menu of theirs that had been placed in the common area and saw they sold a nice little variety of food items. So today I thought I'd give one of them a try for lunch.

I walked down to the lobby and began looking at the menu again. Hmmm, I thought...not alot of hot options on the menu. But what did I really expect, for them to have a plugged-in microwave or toaster oven set up next to the mail bin and security desk? I was the only customer there so the girl who worked there asked me what I was interested in.

"Um, I'm not totally sure. Something that could be easily warmed-up," I said.

"You should try the corned beef on rye. It tastes really good heated up," she said, barely looking up from her phone.

I had tried corned beef only twice. Once was in a delicatessen with my high school boyfriend and his father and then another time was with that same family but during St. Patrick's Day. I remember thinking it was ok, but I figured my palate had matured a little bit and maybe I'd like it more now, as an adult. Besides, it was the only thing on the menu that would've been good heated up and I was pretty hungry. I paid for my huge sandwich and walked back up stairs to my office.

I examined the wrapping because something caught my eye...under ingredients was the word "mustard". Christ, I thought. Not only am I tempting fate by getting a cold-cut sandwich but it HAD to have mustard on it. I turned it over in my hand, searching for the traces of mustard through the clear cellophane, trying to determine how much of a project this sandwich was going to be to make it edible. Much to my relief I didn't spot any, so now the only effort I would have would be in getting the damn thing open.

I struggled for a good 10 mins just trying to break through the cellophane, and I realized it wasn't just the trouble I minded, it was the fact that I was trying to get the thing on a plate, heated up, and eaten before I realized what I was doing. Kinda like jumping in a pool you know is cold but you just want to get it over with. At last, after taking a knife to it, I finally was able to pull it out. I looked it over a little more carefully, and when I was satisfied there was no hazardous mustard I put it in the microwave and pressed START.

Now the thing about being obsessed with temperature is that you aren't simply satisfied to have things lukewarm. I take care of any risk of cold food by putting the microwave on extra long to blast through every single morsel of food. Of course the problem then is that it's often too hot to eat anyway, so you end up waiting even longer. After the thing had been in for over a minute I pulled it out and took it to my desk. I could barely lay a finger on it without it scalding me. Then I tried to just get a fork, which I ended up accidentally flinging on the floor. I know there is really no merit to the whole "five second rule" thing, but I was hungry and figured a little office dirt wouldn't do that much harm. Finally, I tasted it. And it was....ok. I didn't understand how so many people absolutely go nuts for corned beef. Maybe it's because they don't blast it with artificial heat, or buy one from a coffee shop in the first place. Ah well, New York, you can keep it.

Huh, another long entry, and I really didn't even have a lot to say today. Oh, but I did get hit in the head by a tree today. Stupid acorns are thick. Maybe that would make a good status update...

Freaking Facebook...

While doing some puppy shopping I found this picture. This damn dog is so ridiculously cute it's retarded, and figured I'd share it on facebook.

The problem with me is I always seem to lolly-gag when deciding what to post, as if it is some terrible and meaningful decision. Whereas most people don't hesitate a second to post what they ate for dinner last night or insist on posting literally every 10 mins (you know who you are), for me I feel like I'm saying "hey world, it's me and this is what I have to say about something random." And so I have mini panic-attacks whenever I think about something to post. I'm probably over-thinking this way too much, aren't I? Aren't I?? (p.s. 'aren't' is such a weird word, it doesn't look right even spelled correctly b/c it still looks like one of those archaic and obviously adopted words taken from another language)

Plus, I have the added pressure of being a former English major (and teacher) so I am obsessed with making sure my grammar is flawless and spelling is correct (it takes me 10 min just to make sure a 6 word status update is right). I've got friends still in the biz, and I always worry they'll call me out on it ("Uh Kris, it's spelled 'relevant' not 'relevent' and you made a comma splice in your complex sentence"..ahh English humor...)

Otherwise I have even been so frustrated to write something witty or topical that I'll press the Send only to look back and see a mistake. Then I feel like an idiot going back and deleting my own freaking post hoping 1. no one already saw it and 2. won't notice that I literally went back and wrote the exact thing but corrected.

But for this pic, I had something clever and funny in mind, but again I agonized over whether or not I should post it. I also worry that I'll offend the wrong people with my sometimes "dirty" humor. Not the whole public, mind you. I could give a crap about offending face-less strangers.

More likely would be extended and younger family members (who might not appreciate my bawdy humor) or my more religious friends (who have hopefully learned to ignore that part of my personality with a light chuckle and gentle tap on my shoulder as if to say "yes yes, I'm sure it will still be funny as you burn for eternity") lol.

So this is what I wanted to say...

"Wouldn't it be great if this was the face of God? Church attendance would be up because it would consist of playing with puppies every Sunday in honor of Him and hearing about priests' heavy petting wouldn't be a bad thing"

or something to that affect. Damnit, now that I read it it doesn't even sound that bad. So glad I wasted perfectly good worry on that.

Ahh who am I kidding, more will be on the way as soon as I post this. Now to spell check for an hour...