'Not That Big' was a Big Deal

That's right ... I've bought my first item on eBay all by myself!

Okay, so I have this goofy obsession with The Dog® stuff, and went so far as to purchase a miniature pinscher Happy Meal toy ... from Hong Kong ... but my husband helped me. And that's a different story altogether.

I also collect music, though not on as grand a scale as some people I know. I'm selective.

I've recently developed a new love for a group called Temposhark. In the process, I found that another favorite of mine, Imogen Heap, did guest vocals on a song of theirs. Problem? Only the remix (which isn't bad) is available. I went on Temposhark's website and heard the original, and thus began an all-day internet search for the damn song. It doesn't exist (for free, anyway). It's on a promotional cd that is no longer in print and relatively hard to find. Until eBay.

Now granted, I am fully aware of the pitfalls of eBay. I have some first-hand experience with the potential "addiction." But I was on a mission. And with it's success, I can now safely step away ...

... until the next time I feel something is important enough to spend my hard-earned cash on.

What Else Is There?

Deuces wild?

Things seem to be happening in twos. On that note, I'll name two instances - one good, one not-so-good. Each with two people; two things said and two things misunderstood.

The Good
I've recently noticed a growing trend in disproportionate friendships. When I say this, I'm talking about when two friends don't view each other as equals in the friendship field. Let's say Friend #1 considers Friend #2 their best friend, but Friend #2's best friend is not Friend #1. Get it? This usually goes unnoticed because this topic hardly ever just "comes up." But lately, I'm seeing and hearing things that bring it to my attention. Which leads me to think ...

I don't have a "best friend," per se. I tend to keep a few great friends at varying friend levels, but haven't singled out a solitary best. I rely on each one for different things. As a kid I had a few best friends, but was often disappointed when they moved, or I moved, or shit happened. But maybe by my subconscious decision not to have a best friend, it keeps me from being disappointed should that person not reciprocate. Deep, I know.

Now I'm not a godly person, but I do consider myself blessed lately. I've been fortunate enough to be reminded of my friendship status by two important people in my life. I don't know if either of them realize how much it meant to me, but I think I made it clear to them that I feel the same way. My life is that much richer and more fulfilled because of them. Too many times have I let friends fall by the wayside and not told them how much they meant to me. So maybe I'm making up for lost time.

The Not-So-Good
Here's the strange part. The aforementioned "Good" happened during the same week's span as this crap. Granted, I've been having some rough times at work. Just terribly busy and stressed, but not outright angry or upset. Yet two different people have asked me if I was upset at them. Both for similar reasons: misunderstandings.

One was the result of an email taken out of context. Rather than coming across as sarcastic, this person thought I was upset. I had to explain, but it lead to some hurt feelings, even if temporary. The other person said hello in passing, and I didn't reply. Now, I don't ignore people who are being friendly. In general, I don't ignore people period. But am I so absorbed in my own goings-on that I don't even notice when someone is trying to brighten my day? Perhaps, and that's sad.

I'll have to work on that.

I guess the point I'm trying to make is with both instances, The Good and The Not-So-Good, I realized that my reaction (or lack thereof) made a difference in that person's day. And in turn, that made a difference to me - I felt important, and everyone (no matter how slight) likes to be made to feel important. I felt just that.

So be important to someone. I know at this point I probably sound like a public service announcement, but if you're looking for sarcasm and humor, you may want to go somewhere else. If you aren't, well, you're probably one of those people I consider important. Thanks. :)

This isn't Fear Factor, bitch

I love my dogs. Everyone knows that. But I was ready to kill one of them last night.

Zoe.

The dog is a chewer. Always has been. Here's a short list of the stuff she's done over the course of almost six years:

• eaten the leather off a steel-toed boot ... and the ends of the laces
  
• gnawed a hole in the drywall (from the safety of her crate, mind you)
  
• shredded a favorite photo, for which I have no negative
  
• nibbled the wood along the bottom of my dresser (again, from the crate)
  
• destroyed the baseboards in two apartments
  
• thoroughly enjoyed a Chik-fil-A chicken wrap carelessly left on the coffee table for less than 2 minutes
  
• devoured three York peppermint patties in a bowl of Halloween candy
  
• chewed countless buttons from numerous shirts
  
• freshened her breath with chewing gum, mints and Chapstick
  
• splintered the plastic shell of a ball-point pen
  

There's more. This is just what immediately comes to mind.

Most recently (as Maki can attest to) she ate almost a pound of my favorite mint M'n'Ms at Christmastime. I had been shopping at Target. As everyone knows, you always leave with a bunch of random shit that (if you're lucky) all gets thrown into one bag. That bag had wrapping paper and random Christmas-related stuff in it, none of which was edible. Save the M'n'Ms ... which had slipped my mind. I had used a spare comforter on Saturday night which, come Sunday morning, ended up tossed over the Target bag left haplessly on the floor. Sometime Sunday night, Zoe not only found the Target bag, but chewed though it (rather than going in through the top), burrowed into the bag of M'n'Ms and helped herself (I only discovered this two days after this ordeal). She crawled in bed with me and fell asleep. When I woke up Monday morning for work, her belly was bloated and she looked guilty as shit. I knew she had gorged herself on something, but didn't know what. I went about my routine and told my husband I would bring her to the vet and go into work late. Rather than waiting until we got to the vet, she threw up right after my husband had left for work. Long story short, this normally 11-pound-dog was now 13 pounds! After an ungodly vet bill and copious amounts of vomit, she was back to 11 pounds and none the wiser.

I say this because the stupid dog ate something inedible last night that landed us in the emergency vet clinic at 10:30. Same routine - twice as much money. And this time she was on the brink of needing surgery to remove it. We had plenty of time to worry ourselves sick while they were in the back examining her, which resulted in a very pointless argument.

Husband: Why the fuck did she eat that?!
Me: Who cares! She ate it, we're here. We are just going to have to pay for whatever she needs. There's nothing we can do.
Husband: But Jesus ... Of all things, why that?
Me: The dog's eaten dumber shit before. Don't know why this surprises you.
Husband: Stupid dog.

They showed us her X-rays, and how the stuff she'd gotten into filled her stomach, and asked if we were okay with them inducing vomiting. I told them yes. So they got her to throw up again ... and again ... and again. When we got her back, it was like nothing happened. She was chipper and perky and, well, Zoe. Didn't learn a damn thing.

As I walked her out to the lobby to pay the tab, I looked down at her and said in my angriest voice, "We need to have a talk, you and I."

I paid the tab: $261.

My parting words to the receptionist:
"You guys have been great, but I hope I never have to see you again."

Sweet SUCKcess

This is not a story that I heard, but read in my travels on 'the internets'. It serves not only as a tidbit of humor, but also as an indicator that I am - in fact - still alive.

I was in class the other day, and the professor said there was sugar in sperm. A girl asked why it doesn't taste sweet then. When she realized what she said her face became red with embarrassment. Then the professor said, because you taste sweetness with the front of your tongue, not the back of your throat. The girl started crying and left class ... Priceless.

I miss school.