2005-07-21

Your Friends and Neighbors

Rowdy Rosie is at it again. She has a new cage and I swear, she is so pissed off when I put her in it for the day that I can see the steam coming out of her adorable little ears.
That dog.
Man, she's lucky she's irresistibly cute because she is at a real risk to grow up into the Sulky Girl that her mama suppresses every day.
Rosie and I will be able to practice our blackmail faces together.
She's learning, according to the Bible of Dog Rearing, her place during the next four weeks. This is the stage of development when puppies figure out who's the boss - me, or she? She's also responding appropriately when one of the cats gives her the smack-down.
There's this toy, it's a mass of plastic beads that maybe used to be a necklace or something. I can't remember what it was... if it was a necklace, I must never have worn it or it came from the top of a present because I do NOT forget about jewelry. You know, the more I think about it, the more I am pretty sure it was an embellishment on a gift.
Anyway, it's Maggie's precious baby now and nobody is allowed to touch it. Maggie fucking loves those beads. Even Grace leaves them alone and Grace is a first-class bitch to Maggie sometimes.
Maggie has left her toy on the floor of my bedroom for the last couple of weeks and guess what? Rosie found it. After I lured Smelly Dog into the shower with me this morning to wash her smelly belly, I finished my shower and stepped out to find, no big surprise here, Rosie in her bed with Maggie's toy.
In my head, this played out in soap opera style, complete with Rosie paused in her look of terror and surprise when she raises her head from the toy and sees Maggie sitting a little too calmly in the doorway staring at her. No emotion, no kinetic energy.
Nothing.
And then Rosie raised her eyes and met Maggie's and Maggie went psycho-bitch all over Rosie.
I mean, Kill Bill style, "Heeeeeeeee-ya! IWILLKILLLYOUNOW"
And Rosie knew exactly why.
It was awesome is two ways:
1. Cripple fight
2. How did Maggie make it clear that it wasn't a random attack and how did Rosie know that as soon as she would give up the beads, the fight would end? How did they know?
Is there such a thing as cross-species communication, or am I making shit up about my pets that only the very lonely and very loony will understand?
As soon as Rosie dropped the beads, Maggie took them onto my bed and fell asleep on top of them.
Niiiiice.
Speaking of learning from mama. If you don't want someone to get something, sit on it because your gigantic ass will protect it.
I'm really fat right now and for the first time in a long time, it's not a funny joke. I don't mind being porky. In fact, I kind of like it.
But right now, I am not cool with the way things are. Of course, I fail to take into account that I haven't been to the gym in two days, haven't done abs in way more than two days, and am probably medium dehydrated.
I can't seem to stay hydrated properly. It's probably all the alcohol and caffeine that I use to off-set the healthy advantage of hydration. I mean, seriously, what is the point of drinking a bunch of water if you're not going to use your reserves for the sole purpose of getting your drink on?

I can't explain this weird and distantly familiar feeling but dare I say...
I want to go out this weekend. I want to go be rowdy and make out with strangers. I think I can find a partner in crime... I have one candidate in mind but I haven't seen her in a couple of days and I have a feeling she's shacking up with some dude.
My friends are my neighbors:
1. Gay couple who acts like they are 63 and rich instead of 28 and broke. They crack me up; they hate the gay scene here and yet they watch The Golden Girls twice a day and go roller-blading at a set time every weekend.
2. You've a 23 year old volunteer. Very sweet, very conservative. I sometimes wonder how different my life would be if I had been more like her when I was 23. She's so together and at the same time has this quality of being a child. She makes me wistful for my own youth. We walk our dogs together. We made a gym/dog deal whereby if one goes to the gym and the other doesn't then non-workout person has to walk both dogs. If both go or both don't go then both walk the dogs. This is going to be super-handy because I am older and never have plans so if it's like heading toward evening and it's a weekend, I can be all, "Hey veegee? I'm going to the gym now... I noticed you didn't make it today - what time are taking Rosie? I want to time it so I get back and she's all passed-out tired. Thanks Hon!" Don't underestimate me, ever.
3. The Capables. They are very cool people but off in their own married world. They do a lot of stuff around their house and they have such an active relationship with each other that they sort of seem to need to go out without each other. That's cool. It works for them. They're equals.
4. Doofus. Doofus is married, too. I LOVE Doofus' wife but they're newlyweds and spend all of their available free time together as well. Only not quite like The Capables. The Capables interact with people in an engaging albeit removed way. Doofus.... not so much.
5. The Madame. This is where my potential wing-mate lives. She's the goddaughter of The Madam. The Madame is rarely not flanked by several people in various stages of alcoholism and or disrepair. Sometimes, I'll come home and some stranger is working on his car in her parking spot, or her sister's dog is hanging out in the backyard, patiently waiting. (Patiently. Rosie. PATIENTLY) At the same time, this woman has the nicest stuff. I have totally scoped out her place and there are two bars, an electric bottled water machine, plasma TV, and digital cable... I mean, I know where she works and I'm not sure what's going on. I can tell you that she's not a criminal... there's something simple with her. If I had to guess, I'd say she either has a ton of debt, or none at all. You know, also, she is one of those people who puts out all she can and I think that it really does come back three-fold for her.
*sigh*

I need to get home with a quickness and get the "coral" nail-polish off of my fingernails. I think the color oxidized or ionized or something because what was once a pretty, South Florida kind of look is day-glo orange and hurting my head while I type.
I wonder if this crap would melt off if I laid my hands in the sun for a few minutes. It looks like it probably should.
God.
Ewww.

arizonasarah at 10:42 a.m.

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