Unemployed Confusion

Well, I've been unemployed for quite some time now. This is my first time unemployed since I was 9. I had a paper route. It's strange how many places your mind can take you when you don't have a job. Should I scrap all of the things I've been working for for the past 15 years, should I go back to school, what should I do now? This past year has been insane. I've had many, many highs and am now living in a cloud of confusion. I'm actually excited to see what I turn out to be. Until then, I'll continue to spend time with my dog. She make me laugh when she does things like this at the dog park.

It may not happen

Last October, when I started this blog, I predicted 6 things would happen in a year's time. Five of the 6 things have already come true, along with some unexpected other wonderful things peppered in. I'm writing because October is right around the corner, and I'm afraid #6 may not happen by the predicted time. Let's all keep our fingers crossed, because it'll be the biggest one ever!

My dog is a drunk

You guys, I took Pickle the dog to a Mexican restaurant and this is what she did to a Watermelon Margie... Who thinks I should stage an intervention?

#5, just one more to go...

Number five on my list of 6 amazing things that are going to happen this year is coming tomorrow, in the form of a dog.  I have wanted my own dog for as long as I can remember, but a lot of apartments in LA either don't accept dogs, or charge a huge fee to have a dog in your place.  Now that Adam and I own our own place, our first priority was to get a dog.  We went to a rescue group to meet a number of dogs this morning.  I sat down to play with them, and one came running up to me and plopped herself in my lap.  She chose me, and I chose her back.  She's a 5 month old terrier mix and her name is Pickle.  The rescue group is dropping her off at my place tomorrow, and I couldn't be happier.  As Adam and I drove away from the rescue place, I started to cry, because my dream of owning my own dog has been years in the making.

#4 and #4 1/2

I ran my first marathon on Monday.  It was painful, but I finished.  Even though it's not one of my 6 things I predicted would happen this year, it's a huge deal to me, so I think it deserves a spot at "4 1/2."  

Number 4 has happened.  I am officially a homeowner.  It's an amazing condo in the Valley, and it's huge and wonderful.  I never thought I'd be here at this point in my life.  Being a homeowner will make #5 quite easy.  What's #5?  Stay tuned!

What I learned when I was 5

When I was 5 years old, my older brothers, once again, tried to get me into trouble.  My dad came home from work every night at the exact same time, 5:30pm.  On this particular night, my brothers told me to tell my dad “fuck you” when he came home. 

“What does that mean?”

“It means you love him.”

Armed with this new-found word, I excitedly waited for my dad to come home.  When he opened the door at 5:30 pm, I happily yelled “FUCK YOU!”  He grabbed me, raced me upstairs, and put soap in my mouth.  I cried hysterically, told him what happened, and he grounded my brothers for a week. 

Lessons learned? 1. “Fuck you” doesn’t mean “I love you.”  2. Never trust my brothers.

Just had to tell you...

Uh. Muh. Guhd. You guys have got to hear about this. This isn't about my life, so I've been debating whether I should write about it or not. It's been making me smile from big ear to small ear all morning. (For those of you who don't know me, I have one regular sized ear, and one small one.)

My waiter-friend punched an unruly customer in the face. Apparently, the man was talking down to him, stiffed him on the tip, and continued to crush his soul as he walked out the door of the restaurant. My waiter-friend followed him outside and punched the a-hole customer in the face.

Normally, I don't condone violence. But if you've ever been a waiter, chances are, you've been treated horribly by a number of customers. I've been yelled at, snapped at, whistled at (summoning me, like I'm a dog), my arm grabbed as I've walked by, and have had my character questioned and stepped on by many people over the years. My waiter-friend deserves a medal. Cheers to you, waiter-friend!