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!

Fancy

I used to work in a very fancy restaurant that was oftentimes rented out to fancy people for fancy parties. The other servers and I, while we passed out drinks and appetizers, realized that no one ever listened to what we said when we presented said drinks and apps. So, we started to change what we said to the fancy customers. Instead of “Pinot Grigio”, it was “Penis Grigio.” And instead of offering these meatballs that had a fancy name, I just walked around and said, “Balls? Balls? Balls?”, while I carried the tray of food. We changed other names, but I can’t remember them. I was drunk off of Penis Grigio for most of those fancy parties. Out of the thousands of people we served for those fancy parties, only ONE man noticed that I kept offering him balls. He smiled and winked at me. I want to find him and kiss him on his forehead. He is the only fancy person who heard what I said in the 2 fancy years I worked at that fancy restaurant.

#3, it all happened so fast.

I finally got my game show money last night. It was in the mail, like it was nothing special. Just an envelope hangin’ out with all the other envelopes. No one was home, so I took about 10 pics of it, and then about 5 pics of me and the check. Then I called my mom. She freaked out and wanted to know if I called the bank to let them know it was coming. “Ma, this isn’t like olden days where I have a personal relationship with my teller.” I call my mom "ma" when she frustrates me. I was sad that I was alone, I wanted to make a speech or something, and thank all of the people in my life who’ve helped me thus far in achieving my…um…game show dreams??? On the way to the ATM, I sang the theme song from “Me and My Girl”, but changed the words to, “Me and My Check.” Then I went home, did my laundry, and went to bed.

“And we’ll have love, laughter, be happy ever after. Me (tap solo) and my check.” (applause, curtain.)