Wednesday, April 23, 2008

lunch time

We babysat over the weekend…

and aren’t they cute?

Monday, April 21, 2008

early evening

Life Totally Sucks, But…

I could watch this video over and over and over again and be happy, as long as I didn’t have to leave my computer.  And right now, since I can’t go anywhere, thanks to threats from evil Shawon at Silver State Credit Union, all I’m going to do is sleep…and watch this video.  Okay, okay, and work.  But, right now, sleep, after a few more viewings of the video.  Then, I’m really going to bed, for sure. 

Friday, April 11, 2008

early afternoon

Please vote for Gmail to add “folders”

My company email moved to Gmail…and I despise it!  I hate labels with a blinding passion, so please help me by voting for them to add folders.  I’m sure they’ll keep the dreadful labels for those of you who like them, so please help me not despise logging in to get my work email.  Oh, and yes, I know I can have it come directly into Outlook Express, but I want my work email separate from my regular email.

mid-morning

R.I.P., Tiny Dino

My first pet that wasn’t a whole family pet (or a hamster that lived less than two years - ChiChi, you won’t ever be forgotten, but you bit hard and you peed in your little travel ball and you escaped and pooped in my closet) died yesterday.  He wasn’t mine, he was my ex’s (adopted from a shelter - jerks abused him, then gave up that adorable year old puppy), but he loved me best for five years (he really didn’t, but I was a stay-at-home mom, a doggie au pair, for a little while when I first moved to Pacifica & San Francisco, so I could spoil him and steal his love), so I get to claim him as a child.  He had a good long life (he was 16) and he enjoyed a variety of things - barking at children on skateboards, plastic bags flapping in the wind, people in wheelchairs, bicyclists, fireworks, thunder, Conures (especially Julius & Ethel, but he was happy to expand his bird annoyance to Blackjack, Keno, and Bubbe too), eating his beloved Mighty Dog (now the dogs eat Honest Kitchen, which is so much more San Francisco-y, but he adored MD), Frosty Paws (he loved it so much, he ate the whole container…then threw it up), picking up his pee-mail, and laying on the bed.  He also really really loved his very first stuffed bear.  He carried it around lovingly for over a year, before he ripped its fluffy guts out and flung them all over the floor.  Every stuffed toy after that was destroyed within weeks - first, he killed the squeaker, then he managed to make it look like it had snowed in the apartment.  Later in his life, he would carry his stuffed toys on his walks.  I’m sorry I missed his gentle senior years, where he got to enjoy having a back yard, living with a bunch o’ Pomeranians, and being deaf, which made his life and everyone’s around him a lot more peaceful.  He got in a lot of barking in his early years.

In San Francisco, we had neighbors who had a baby girl and one of her first words was “Maxth!”  She said it with such joy.  Ingrid was always happy to see Max when we met her and her British nanny (heh, we lived in Noe Valley, in San Francisco, where every house was worth over a million bucks) on their walks.  I don’t think Maxth! even barked at Ingrid, which proved that he could love at least one child.  Oh wait, I forgot how much he loved one of his mom’s nephews.  He thought Ricky was the bee’s knees…in a very embarrassing, but hilarious, way.

It’s been a really lousy couple of years, but it’s been an especially lousy last few months with the foreclosure business.  I’d really hoped that things were improving and each new bad thing seems magnified.  For some reason, I expected Max to live forever, so I was a bit shocked (but really shouldn’t have been) to hear that he’d died.  Luckily, he went quickly at home and didn’t suffer at all.  He had a good life.  It’s not often that a little dog gets to live out his dreams of being a dinosaur.  We spiked his fur to give him a tiny dino-like appearance occasionally, hence the nickname, The Tiny Dino.  Hey, we were lesbians in San Francisco, where you don’t “own” a pet, you’re their “guardian”.  So, we were Max’s guardians.  We home-schooled him because you just can’t trust public schools these days.  He socialized with the other beasts (he can hang out with Cindy again - a Yorkie who lived to be about 23, I think) on the street, so he didn’t lose out on social contact by not attending the neighborhood doggie daycare.  Bah, I’m rambling.  I’ll miss Little Max.  He was a good guy and I have lots of great memories of spending time with him.  He’s survived by his mom & siblings, and his favorite aunts & uncles that he met in San Francisco.  No one who met him ever forgot him - he had a unique charm that is difficult to put into words.  So, I shall finally stop.  Rest in peace, little barky dude.