No Chikin, No Cry

I would not normally wade into such a fray, but since I publicly proclaimed my love for Chik-fil-A previously, I now feel obligated to publicly withdraw it. Done. The day I put a chicken sandwich before the rights of my fellow citizens is the day you can revoke my humanity card. I still have a soul, so I'm gonna pass on the sandwich.

It Finally Happened

Characters
Jason and Tami, a married couple, she has slight ADD tendencies

Setting
The present, driving along a country lane

Act 1, Scene 1

Tami: Why would you suggest a word when I had al-- Oh! <pointing> There's a chicken!
 

The End

The Grass Is Always Greener

We do not know the first thing about gardening or landscape maintenance or any of that water-it, trim-it, prune-it kind of stuff. And yet, we keep buying houses (ok, so this is only the second one and yes, technically I bought the first one before we ever even met, but hey, he knew what he was marrying into, so yes, we keep buying houses) with these elaborate yards and we haven't got a flipping clue what to do with them. So, like any pair of reasonable, rational adults would, we just ignore them and hope they go away.

However, now that Hooch is getting on up there in months and the weather's starting to improve--we may even be able to expect one nice day per month now--it would be nice to take him outside to play without having to leave home to do it. With that in mind, we set out today to pull up about seven years' worth (not an exaggeration) of overgrown ivy. Well, that sucked. After yanking and pulling and heaving and getting dirt in my eyes, mouth, and other assorted places where I'd just as soon not have dirt, not to mention grunting like I haven't grunted since my futile attempt at birthing my child, it finally began to look like we were getting somewhere. As I paused to assess our progress, I sneezed. And pissed myself. And that concludes my yard maintenance contributions.

Pillow Talk

So, thanks for dropping by, sleep. Sure you can't stay the night?

No, no, that's ok. I understand. That's not the kind of relationship we have anymore. It's just, ya know, every now and then, at times like these—in the dead of the night—I wish it were.

Oh, never mind me. Ha ha! Crazy talk, just a passing fancy.

So anyway, drop by any night you feel like it, you're always welcome. We know how to have a good time together, don't we?

Yeah.

Ok, see ya around. Or not. Whatever.

Call me!

Save the Frenchies!

The French Bulldog Rescue Network (don't scroll down on their homepage if you don't want to see distressing "before" pics of some of the mistreated and neglected dogs they have taken in), a wonderful, wonderful organization (from whom we adopted our beloved Milo) desperately needs your help. If you are able to assist them at all, please make a donation to their fundraising campaign at their ChipIn site or on the widget below. Please help if you can. Every Frenchie deserves some kissin' and a little tender, lovin' care.

But Enough About Me, What Do *You* Think Of Me?

My all-time top three compliments ever received, in the order in which they were bestowed:

1. "You look like an angel in that sweater." [beat, cocks head to side] "But really you're the devil."  (By my dear friend upon my entering the room wearing her favorite {obs-viously} cream-colored, cowl-necked sweater. She spoke spontaneously and then remembered who she was dealing with.)

2. "You're a gay man in a woman's body." (By another dear friend--who happens to *be* a gay man, so high praise indeed--upon his observation that I watch an inordinate amount of Bravo, listen to showtunes in the car, and exhibit a lot of other superficial stereotypical behaviors. Shut up, I don't care, I'm claiming it anyway.)

3. "The bigger a freak someone is, the more you accept them." (By my MTF transgender sibling upon coming out to me. Important note: NOT MY WORDS. I would never use the f-word in this situation.)

Lesson for you to take away from this: I'm kinda awesome.

Informal You

Conversation with customer service rep over phone:

Rep: Thank you, Ms. Tal--, Ms. Ta--

Me: [gives correct pronunciation] It's much easier than it looks.

Rep: Oh, ok. Thank you, Ms. Ta-- Can I call you Tami?