Updates!

I haven't talked about Huckleberry in a while, so here are a few fun facts:

He loves to ride in the car. And he can smile.



If I mention "Daddy", he will sit and watch out the window for him.



He came back from my mom and dad's house after a two-day vacation with his customary "I've been at Grandma and Grandpa's" limp (they have stairs, he's too enthusiastic, and yes, I'm a teensy bit peeved they haven't blocked them off yet) with an eating disorder. He's always been the type to drool over his dish until I tell him "OK" and then he inhales it and looks for more, so when he wouldn't touch it last night, I called Mom to see if they'd, I dunno, given him "lunch" or something. If there was some reason he wasn't hungry at "TIME". ("TIME" as in, "Huckleberry, is it TIME? *cue hysterical dancing and celebration from the dog.) He didn't eat all last night, and this morning, out of sheer desperation, I brought the food dish into the kitchen. When I walked in the door, he got all excited (cue hysterical, if limpy, dancing, etc) and barely bothered to chew as usual. Apparently, Mom and Dad have taught him he can eat inside. Damn them!

As far as the Linus goes, there are a few fun updates:

He loves watching my birdfeeders outside the window.



He suddenly discovered the bathroom sink, but will only lay in there if someone's in the bathroom with him.



He spent all last week and part of this one laying under the coffee table with his belly sticking out, panting.



Oh! And have I mentioned he likes to try to mount the dog?

Cow, Part II

I had the nicest laugh with my mom yesterday about our cow situation.

What? You thought I was kidding? No, we still have a cow. Two houses down from us. We live in a residential neighborhood. The outskirts, but still. I keep trying to figure out why. Why would one have a cow in one's backyard?

I feel like baking a batch of muffins and taking it over, and when they invite me in for coffee, leading the conversation casually to farm animals. (In this scenario, we live in the suburbs in the fifties.) "So, by the by..."

Then I think, what if they're holding it for a friend? Cowsitting? Then I think, what sort of person buys a cow before they've got the space for it? Don't you just walk past the cow aisle if you don't have... a barn?

I thought maybe I could call our town constable (we have a constable, how jealous does that make you?) and say, "Hypothetically speaking, what should one do if one's neighbor is harboring a cow?"

As of yesterday, it's still there. I'll be sure to keep you updated. Ooh! Maybe I can sneak a picture or two!

Under: What the Fuck?

What would you say if you were still a member of a dating site (or friendship site!) and although you rarely checked in on your messages, just discovered that your profile had been saved by a gentleman who made it known on his profile that he has one of these?

If what you'd say and what I had to say are anything at all alike, I should have warned you to cover your mouth so your screaming doesn't alert your coworkers. Just sayin'.



______

(Not that there's anything wrong with that.)

Free Flowing

For the past three weeks or so, my bathtub drain hasn't been flowing as it should. It's been stopped up. The water will go down, eventually, but it takes a few hours. Yeah, hours. Gross, I know. I hadn't mentioned it to B, because he feels bad enough about being gone as is, and I hadn't gotten around to asking Dad about it yet. When B got here on Thursday night after taking the Greyhound up here, of course the first thing he wanted to do was take a shower. And of course the first thing he noticed then was that the drain wasn't, well... draining. He mentioned it to Dad when they came over for a cookout on Saturday night, and Dad offered his assistance.

Now, I normally think that one's drains are one's own business, but when someone offers their expertise and I can barely plunge correctly, I'll take it.

Dad came by today and looked at the drain. He plunged for a good long while before sticking his finger down the drain. I shuddered.

Dad: Lots of hair down here.

Me: Yes, but that's not my fault. That's your fault. It didn't come from Mom's side.

Dad: (nods.)

After about five more minutes of expert plunging (I had no idea there was such a finesse to it!), Dad decided we might need to get the snake involved. (Luckily, my dad's the sort who has a snake.) As we talked about the snake, he monkeyed around with the stopper. Flipped it from the down position to the up. And unstopped the drain.

My only consolation is that Bruce didn't try that, either.

Love Thy Neighbor

Yesterday Huck got away from me, and the neighbors had a cow!

I mean, literally. Like, "MOO!"

I wonder if it's OK to have a cow in your backyard in this neighborhood? I never asked. It's just a baby. Are they growing their own veal? Because it's not exactly a couple of acres they've got here, it's barely more land than we have. Maybe they're cowsitting?

I love this neighborhood.

Fixing

So, I cleaned the fridge. It was more of an undertaking than usual, because I haven't exactly been on top of the 'smell & pitch' method I usually use, and it's been a while since the last time I cleaned. I had leftovers in there from before Bruce went to Missouri. He's been gone for almost a month.

Completely unrelated Fun Fact!: Lemons sometimes get mouldy and turn into vaguely lemon-shaped (but shrunken) balls of green dust that will rise up in a toxic cloud when you try to pick them up and throw them away. I'm only guessing, but I don't think it's a good idea to inhale the cloud.

Update:

- OMG, Elliot is Becky number two! I love revelations like this.

- In a few weeks, we're getting another kitten. Here's a picture.

- I went to Pride in Milwaukee this weekend, and it was filled with awesome things and people and I was so proud. I am so proud. There were these judgemental people at the gates with a megaphone talking about how wrong homosexuality is, and I wanted to give them what-for, but my brother wouldn't let me. And then I saw, across the street from these pricks, a mom with a picket sign, "God blessed me with a gay son." Isn't this a strange world? I have tons of hope, though, and I think there are steps being taken every day, steps leading us to a place that isn't judgemental or cruel. Someplace that is more free.

I got a bunch of pictures with some of the cutest boys you ever did see. I'll show them when I get them developed. Also? I went to a foam party. And? I SAW KATHY GRIFFIN. It was the most amazing thing I barely remember. Stupid $4.00 beers.

- I joined Facebook. How is it possible that it's more addicting than Myspace?

Revelations

Last night, I spent the night watching the first few episodes of season two of Desperate Housewives and drinking from the perpetual box of wine in my fridge. I spread some love around the internet, let some people in on some (not-so wise) wisdom, and generally felt like an ass all day long for the things I can't quite remember I did late last night.

Tonight, I went to see a few old friends and ended up catching up with more than I can count. I saw someone I'd been nervous to see again, and things went well. I got five unexpected hugs. I met somebody new, someone who could be a friend. I met someone I knew from a long time ago, but didn't really know. I saw two people I haven't seen in at least three years, one I hadn't seen in six or seven, and I drank three Sundrops. I had an awesome time. Apart from being completely wired on the sugariest soda known to man, I'm feeling very very good. I didn't say anything I won't remember saying tonight, and I certainly didn't say anything I'll regret. I helped a girl keep track of her purse. Tonight was good.

I've got some thinking to do.