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the_dala at 10:07pm on 05/08/2005
the_dala at 10:07pm on 05/08/2005The director's cut of "Alexander" has the gay, right? Since that's pretty much the only reason I'm watching the movie, I'd like it to be as gay as possible.
The power went out at work today, twice. It was kind of fun. We led customers around by flashlight and were like personal shoppers.
The dog thing is still mostly what's going on. Yesterday we met with Katherine, the lady from Ralphie's agency (whom Dad and I decided was Belgian, because she sounded kind of French but then a little German, but we didn't ask). She was really nice and seemed to like us a lot. The two of them also saw Callie on a home visit when I was at work. And what happened was exactly what I knew was going to happen -- my mother fell in love with that dog and won't hear anything else. She has resorted to tears and guilt-trips, although she stopped a little while ago when I went on Petfinder and pointed out all the animals marked URGENT and LAST CHANCE, which none of the dogs we picked out were. That shut her up.
It isn't that I don't like the dog. She's a very sweet little dog. But she runs away. She escaped from her first owners three times. My mother keeps saying that this can be stopped with proper training, but in the meanwhile, we live in a suburban neighborhood with a decent amount of traffic, near several major roads. If something were to happen and she got out, I'm afraid she could easily be hit by a car or taken in by somebody else. She's also crate-trained, and that isn't a method we have ever used.
And to be selfish for a moment -- it isn't like I'd be the only one in this household -- she reminds me of Hershey. I know she reminds my mother of Hershey too, although she blithely denies it. That's part of the reason why she wants her, and part of the reason why I don't.
We've tried to be honest with both parties about how we've never adopted a pet before and we haven't yet made up our minds. I think my mother believes she is going to get her way. I'm trying not to let my natural disinclination to let that happen influence me. I mean, at least I'm aware of the fact that I'm resisting Callie partly because my mother wants her. Wants wants WANTS, the way a three-year-old wants. GOD. I sort of just want to get this over with.
Regardless, tomorrow we're all three meeting Ralphie and his foster father at Whetstone Lake. Hopefully my dad will take a particular liking to him, and he and Mom can duke it out without me feeling too guilty about either side.
Whoa, this song -- this SONG. This is me and Katherine watching the top ten countdown on VH1 every single Friday, over the phone. Before TRL was even a twinkle in some MTV exec's eye. I remember that I cried when they retired "My Heart Will Go On."
We're supposed to be watching my cousin Michelle's little dog while they're at the beach, but she hasn't brought her -- him? errr, it -- over yet. It's...after ten, and it takes at least forty-give minutes to get from here to Iamsville and back. Whatever.
The power went out at work today, twice. It was kind of fun. We led customers around by flashlight and were like personal shoppers.
The dog thing is still mostly what's going on. Yesterday we met with Katherine, the lady from Ralphie's agency (whom Dad and I decided was Belgian, because she sounded kind of French but then a little German, but we didn't ask). She was really nice and seemed to like us a lot. The two of them also saw Callie on a home visit when I was at work. And what happened was exactly what I knew was going to happen -- my mother fell in love with that dog and won't hear anything else. She has resorted to tears and guilt-trips, although she stopped a little while ago when I went on Petfinder and pointed out all the animals marked URGENT and LAST CHANCE, which none of the dogs we picked out were. That shut her up.
It isn't that I don't like the dog. She's a very sweet little dog. But she runs away. She escaped from her first owners three times. My mother keeps saying that this can be stopped with proper training, but in the meanwhile, we live in a suburban neighborhood with a decent amount of traffic, near several major roads. If something were to happen and she got out, I'm afraid she could easily be hit by a car or taken in by somebody else. She's also crate-trained, and that isn't a method we have ever used.
And to be selfish for a moment -- it isn't like I'd be the only one in this household -- she reminds me of Hershey. I know she reminds my mother of Hershey too, although she blithely denies it. That's part of the reason why she wants her, and part of the reason why I don't.
We've tried to be honest with both parties about how we've never adopted a pet before and we haven't yet made up our minds. I think my mother believes she is going to get her way. I'm trying not to let my natural disinclination to let that happen influence me. I mean, at least I'm aware of the fact that I'm resisting Callie partly because my mother wants her. Wants wants WANTS, the way a three-year-old wants. GOD. I sort of just want to get this over with.
Regardless, tomorrow we're all three meeting Ralphie and his foster father at Whetstone Lake. Hopefully my dad will take a particular liking to him, and he and Mom can duke it out without me feeling too guilty about either side.
Whoa, this song -- this SONG. This is me and Katherine watching the top ten countdown on VH1 every single Friday, over the phone. Before TRL was even a twinkle in some MTV exec's eye. I remember that I cried when they retired "My Heart Will Go On."
We're supposed to be watching my cousin Michelle's little dog while they're at the beach, but she hasn't brought her -- him? errr, it -- over yet. It's...after ten, and it takes at least forty-give minutes to get from here to Iamsville and back. Whatever.
bitchy
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