I have two things to tell you. One, after months of jonesing, I am finally listening to my very own Blossom Dearie CD. It’s really the little things. She makes my brane melt a little.

TWO my boss called me a bad swear today. My boss is the IRL version of Steve Carrell. I am quite sinsur. Also my coworker told me today she’s packing a heater. I don’t want to know these things. No I do not.

Three. (Bonus Round) I also got a Diana Krall CD of standards that I somehow missed in the last couple of years. There is something about her now. Something disconcertingly Sinatralike. I love Sinatra, but I don’t know if I need another one in my life.

Four. Mr. Klassy is coming back! He is laying eggs! MR. KLASSY COME HOME. ALL IS FORGIVEN. I am going to drive to his farmhome on Saturday and get her. Apparently she was a bit of a pariah. Polishes are really mellow birds, so I am not too surprised in hindsight. I offered my friends my dudlike Buttercups, but shockingly they declined. The Buttercups are laying now and they make smallish white eggs. Anyone want some fucking buttercups?

FIVE I had to work up to Franny’s bedtime, so I said hi to her when I came home. She went all babymush on me and stuck her arms out and said MAMA. I said, “Come on kid,” and she climbed into my bed, where she is snoring right now. She was at her dad’s for a week after Xmas and that makes her all weird.

Six. Speaking of weird, the threads continue to unravel. Have you ever put on an outfit that you are pretty sure is a bad idea, but you really want to wear it so you do it anyway? Dig if you will the picture, of pants too large and a top slightly too small and socks that keep falling down. You are fidgeting at your pants to keep them up and OH the socks are itchy and what’s this? The bastardy shirt flips up over your muffintop. This is bad. Did your bra strap just break? What the fuck?

I am feeling a little bit like that about life lately. I get one goo ball up and five more fall down. All this preamble is to tell you that I lost it a little in a sad fashion in the store I work in. I have this history with dogs. We’ve never gotten along too well. I realized recently, now that I have been running, that the feeling of unease I get when a dog is coming is fear. Problem: there are approximately 4.9 dogs to every human in Seattle. People in Seattle deem it appropriate to bring dogs into GROCERY STORES here. So of course people bring dogs into the store where I work.

It was all over the place, too. I felt totally trapped. Non-swearing boss asked me if I was okay, because apparently I turned white and started shaking. I had to step outside. The best part was that the dog was one of those floor sweepers that weighed about five pounds. I am now afraid of things that weigh less than my own head. I am officially crackers.

There, I said it. I just became a Larry David character. I predict that Kleenex box hands are about a year out. Spazzychow out.

41 thoughts on “Dudes

  1. I am now afraid of things that weigh less than my own head. I am officially crackers.

    Perhaps, but not for this reason. See: spiders, mice, Gary Coleman, etc.

  2. As someone who was once BIT dangerously close to her cooter by a mangy mutt, I can appreciate your fear and loathing of the filthy beasts.

  3. I hate non-service animals in public places. When I worked at Home Depot we had a no non-service animals policy but it was never enforced because the entitled blue-hairs would bring their tiny snappy dogs in and bitch to high heaven if we asked them to leave precious outside. Which means I got to deal with difficult customers while tiny sharp-toothed dogs growled and snapped at me.

    I like dogs. I do not like encountering poorly trained dogs in public places. Most dogs in public places are poorly trained and owned by assholes.

    I double plus hate dogs –and cats– in eating establishments. Mmm, hair in my food! That’s AWESOME. Drinking my expensive coffee drink while listening to someone’s dog howl and whine! TOTALLY part of the cafe experience!

  4. Your wardrobe malfunction perfectly describes me almost on a daily basis – except without socks, I don’t even own any socks. It is 81 degrees out after all….but I digress.

    PS: I like Diana Krall too.

  5. I don’t like your boss calling you nasty names. Tell me it wasn’t the “c” word, or I’ll have to come over and stomp on his toes.

  6. I just yelled at Ms. Dearie moments before surfing your way: “I AM NOT PUTTING ON A HAPPY FUCKING FACE!”

    Still, love her. What album did you get?

    Fear of the muffintop is the is the first step on the slippery road to Muu-muuland. Not even Liz Taylor could pull that off. Longer shirts is all, I’ve decided. Let me know your own thoughts.

  7. Kaila: What do you think about that From This Moment On? I LOVE standards sooo much, but I feel like she’s changed since like Love Scene and All For You, and in that Sinatra way. I remember the last time I saw her live in…03? She was talking up Sinatra at the Sands, which I love, but I DUNNO MAN.

    Shan: I got the Verve Jazz Masters collection of BD. I love those collections. They are long and usually leave out the weird stuff without beating the old saws to death further.

  8. I was walking back from ballard a couple weeks ago (at the height of the snopocolypse) I come upon 2 guys and a fairly large canine. The pooch is off leash (natch) and comes blundering over to me all big stoopid doggy style, and I lean over to say ‘hello’ when the dog raises his hackles, bares his teeth and proceeds to growl and snap at me.
    I pull my hand back and turn sideways to the dog (so that if he does decide to bite me he cannot grab anything important.) To which the owner of the dog says:
    “it’s fine, don’t worry. he’s nice”
    I remain unconvinced, and so does cujo there. I go to step forward past the “fine” dog, and he snaps at me again. To which the owner again states “don’t worry, he’s fine.” In what world is that fine? The two guys just stood there 30 yards away reassuring me that their dog was ‘fine.’ I am not afraid of dogs, but that was a scary situation. If I had been a kid or someone who is afraid of dogs that would have been traumatic.
    People are stupid.

    I am glad klassy is a transrooster, and not a dude. He is cool looking.

Comments are closed.