My friend "Sullivan" has just started a blog and is tremendously excited about it.
Please go pay her a visit at Letters from Sullivan.
She is a 24-year-old writer, lesbian in a committed relationship, ballroom dancer, website designer and general all-around woman of many talents.
Thanks for making her feel welcome!
03 May 2008
01 May 2008
Take a chill pill
Is it just me, or is our magical world of Blogadelphia extra angsty today? Holy cats, people, CALM DOWN. Until then, I will be praying for your cranky butts.
30 April 2008
Barack Obama is talking to me
No, I'm not delusional. Do not buy me a foil hat (just yet).
Barack Obama answered a direct question from me, thanks to our friends at Momocrats.
He gave a good answer, though my question was phrased as if I wanted him to march in to torture chambers personally and yank cattle prods out of interrogators' hands.
Go check it out. (It's not just me - he answers some other good questions).
Barack Obama answered a direct question from me, thanks to our friends at Momocrats.
He gave a good answer, though my question was phrased as if I wanted him to march in to torture chambers personally and yank cattle prods out of interrogators' hands.
Go check it out. (It's not just me - he answers some other good questions).
27 April 2008
Adventures in Dogwalking Pt. 63
The Scene: Down by the harbor
The Players: Suebob, a large, slow-moving object and Miss Goldie, a canine blur of fur
Goldie and I walked around the harbor, so she could search for squirrels in the rocks, her favorite activity. After about 20 minutes, we went over to the boat ramp, where people can back their boat trailers down into the water.
We had done this before and it was fine. I stood on the ramp while Goldie walked into the water to cool off. But when we did it before, the tide was high. Today it was Not, though I didn't realize this until it was Too Late.
Goldie saw the water and bolted for it. I trotted down the ramp behind her...until I hit the wet part. It was covered in brown moss and I suddenly felt as if the bottoms of my sneakers had had bacon strips stapled to them. Within seconds, I had done a classic pratfall (without the prat part), my feet flying up and my butt coming down.
Then I slid about 7 feet down the ramp on my back until my heels were at the water's edge. Goldie calmly waded about, regarding me with curiosity.
At this point, I was lying on my back on a damp, moss-covered incline with my backside covered in goo.
I tried my best to maintain my dignity (Oh, yeah, right, WHAT dignity?) and I attempted to stand up on the bacon-like surface. Eventally I righted myself and took sliding microsteps up the ramp to the dry, non-slippery area, waddling like a penguin.
Wearily, I headed back to the car and found a blanket to sit on. I was juggling the blanket, the leash and the car door when Goldie saw a squirrel behind me and took off.
The squirrel leapt over some giant PVC pipes that were in the field next to my car with Goldie in hot pursuit, the leash handle having been yanked out of my hands.
The next thing I knew, Goldie had wedged herself between two slick, waist-high PVC pipes. Her back legs were dangling between the pipes as her front legs scrabbled uselessly, trying to get a grip, as shown below in the Absolutely Accurate Scale Drawing:
I had to climb my mossy, damp butt over the top of the pipes and lift my 70 pound dog out from between them. I was almost crying, thinking that she had probably broken a hip or something.
Wrong. She bounded off, looking for squirrels. I limped back to the car, looking for Advil. Will she ever learn? Will I? Stay tuned for further Adventures in Dogwalking and find out!
The Players: Suebob, a large, slow-moving object and Miss Goldie, a canine blur of fur
Goldie and I walked around the harbor, so she could search for squirrels in the rocks, her favorite activity. After about 20 minutes, we went over to the boat ramp, where people can back their boat trailers down into the water.
We had done this before and it was fine. I stood on the ramp while Goldie walked into the water to cool off. But when we did it before, the tide was high. Today it was Not, though I didn't realize this until it was Too Late.
Goldie saw the water and bolted for it. I trotted down the ramp behind her...until I hit the wet part. It was covered in brown moss and I suddenly felt as if the bottoms of my sneakers had had bacon strips stapled to them. Within seconds, I had done a classic pratfall (without the prat part), my feet flying up and my butt coming down.
Then I slid about 7 feet down the ramp on my back until my heels were at the water's edge. Goldie calmly waded about, regarding me with curiosity.
At this point, I was lying on my back on a damp, moss-covered incline with my backside covered in goo.
I tried my best to maintain my dignity (Oh, yeah, right, WHAT dignity?) and I attempted to stand up on the bacon-like surface. Eventally I righted myself and took sliding microsteps up the ramp to the dry, non-slippery area, waddling like a penguin.
Wearily, I headed back to the car and found a blanket to sit on. I was juggling the blanket, the leash and the car door when Goldie saw a squirrel behind me and took off.
The squirrel leapt over some giant PVC pipes that were in the field next to my car with Goldie in hot pursuit, the leash handle having been yanked out of my hands.
The next thing I knew, Goldie had wedged herself between two slick, waist-high PVC pipes. Her back legs were dangling between the pipes as her front legs scrabbled uselessly, trying to get a grip, as shown below in the Absolutely Accurate Scale Drawing:
I had to climb my mossy, damp butt over the top of the pipes and lift my 70 pound dog out from between them. I was almost crying, thinking that she had probably broken a hip or something.
Wrong. She bounded off, looking for squirrels. I limped back to the car, looking for Advil. Will she ever learn? Will I? Stay tuned for further Adventures in Dogwalking and find out!
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