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Archive for May, 2014

notes on a scandal

Tuesday, May 20th, 2014

All kinds of TV is over for the year, but I’m having a hard time letting go. (Armchair psychologists, I understand you just opened your mouths to point out some parallels. Pretend I’m reaching over and gently lifting your chin to close that mouth right back up.) I have many, many finales just sitting in my Hulu queue, being ignored because I’m not ready for them to be over (even for the year).

I’ve also started taking quite an interest in the drama of the people close to me, but sadly very little of that is available for writing about.

The biggest real life scandal that I have access to that’s currently on the table for internet sharing involves crackers.

So, my girlfriend from my last job (yeah, that job where that person wrote me that comment mentioned in the PS here that I might write about tomorrow) ate lunch at her desk yesterday. That lunch involved a sleeve of saltines. When she finished what she wanted, she wrapped the plastic around the remainder and left them so that she could return to them today.

Today when she returned to work there were many, many fewer saltines in the package.

This suggests a few different scenarios.

1) Someone who works in the building at night (primarily but not entirely maintenance – some engineers never sleep) is super rude and thought that food on a desk was food meant to share. Most likely but also least interesting explanation.

2) She’s actually a sleeper for Russia or … Ireland. Or whoever is planting sleepers here now. The US government has become peripherally aware of this and stole some crackers for DNA testing because they somehow have a cache of DNA from when current sleepers were babies. Least likely but most interesting explanation.

3) Someone is gaslighting her for purposes not yet clear. They’re going to keep removing things from or rearranging things in her office until she thinks she’s losing her mind. Then, they’ll … who knows. Least sensical explanation.

4) I’m returning there in my sleep out of habit. This is compelling because I have never been able to resist a saltine, and I drove there five times a week for two years. It’s possible it’s a place I would drive in my sleep out of pure habit. Best balance between interest and likelihood: boom. There’s our scandal.

If anything else disappears, our options may change. I’ll keep you updated on this breaking news.


Monday, May 19th, 2014

Buttload is a real measurement and it refers to wine, as all good things do.

Today, while carrying Maida over my shoulder through a field because she’s a big fat baby, I was thinking of the buttload of things I compromise on every day.

Most of them have to do with Maida.

I swear to god, you guys, this dog has the absolute upper hand in all situations. I feel like I’ve told this story here before, but I can’t find it on search and I haven’t written for a YEAR, so come on. How about I just tell it again. I think this is why I let her do whatever she wants.

Back when it was still me and Cloey and Maida (never wrote about Clo dying except peripherally but fuck if it still doesn’t hurt, man), we all went with my mom and Crockett and my mom’s two dogs to a family reunion up in the mountains. Mom and I needed to run some errands and all the dogs were being bad when left alone, so we put all four dogs into her Subaru and drove to this shopping center at the intersection of many mountain highways. When we came out of the hardware store, I realized the rear window was open and Maida was nowhere to be seen.

I’m going to skip to the end for the worriers. She was under the front seat, a place that I would previously have bet 100s of dollars that she couldn’t fit. It was fine.

HOWEVER. The forty five minutes where I thought my tiny, dumb, scared-of-men-in-hats, brave-at-the-wrong-times dog was wandering around a big parking lot surrounded by speeding cars were terrible. I kept stopping people and asking if they’d seen a small white dog. My mom started going into stores. We recruited Crockett and he was doing the same. I just ran around screaming her name for awhile.

Shocker (not at all a shocker), it was Crockett who was the voice of reason. He asked if I was SURE she wasn’t in the car. We hadn’t opened the doors because, as I have previously stated, there were three other dogs in the car and it was a TERRIBLE PLACE FOR A DOG TO RUN AROUND. We’d looked in all the windows and called her name. He decided to see for himself.

I didn’t let her go for like twenty solid hours.

And now I carry her through fields when she thinks it’s too hot.

I also carry her down the stairs. And lift the covers for her because her nose is too short to lift them herself. And schedule my post work activities around her dinner.

I feel like I should re-title this post ‘pushover’.

it’s an early to mid thirties party up in here

Sunday, May 18th, 2014

I am 33  years and four months old, and I just started a new job, broke up with my boyfriend*, and moved into a one bedroom apartment with my two dogs.

That reads like the beginning of a novel with high heels and a bouquet on the front, doesn’t it? ‘Emma thought she had it all together, and then everything changed in the blink of any eye. Can Dumbface, the guy who is probably from work that she probably thinks she hates because that’s how these things go, make her world whole again?’

You know what makes my world whole?

Repeated watchings of Melissa McCarthy movies (especially Heat, can that movie get some more love like RIGHT NOW??? I made my mom and brother watch it and I’m pretty sure they weren’t just laughing because I was threatening violence if they didn’t). Also Bachelorette which I am slowly coming to believe is better than Bridesmaids. Also, Heathers. Because if you want to fuck with the eagles, you have to learn to fly.

(Ok, yes, there are other things. Dogs, friends both new and old, family, etc. But Mel and the Sands (that’s what Melissa McCarthy and Sandra Bullock will like me to call them when we all start hanging out), that girl from Party Down who’s name I can’t currently be bothered to google, and old, crazy-ass Christian Bale are pretty solid.)

*I’m worried this sounds sad. It isn’t. Crockett and I are hanging out, all is well with the universe, I LOVE my new job so much that people are getting tired of hearing about it.

** The chicas say hi all. This was Easter, mom and dad were over, and I think I was doing math because I LOVE MY NEW JOB.

***There very definitely is no Dumbface at work.