Gonna Wash that Man Right Outta My Hair

Sorry it's been a while since I posted. A lot has happened in the past couple of months, so I will recap as best as I can.

May was an interesting month; Charlie graduated obedience school, I took my first trip to Europe (I will post more of that later), and then I attended the most warped memorial service ever. EVER.

So J's step-dad died in January; his mom's had a hard time of it, but has been getting by. Old Fred was a crazy man. I mean that in the nicest, most gun-toting, vietnam flashback-having, drunken stupor sorta way. When Fred was making his final arrangements, he expressed that didn't want a formal service. He wanted to be cremated, he wanted bagpipes, Taps, and just immediate family and neighbors to be around while he's "dispersed" on the hill.

Well, here's what he got:

Memorial day; there were about 15 people, in his back yard. We'd planned to plant a tree in his memory (J's mom wanted it) and then some music and food. Well, somewhere along the way, she decided she didn't want to deal with bagpipes, so she just wanted a tape of the music. J's brother's girlfriend, Jeanine, decided to just download "Amazing Grace" on bagpipes, and taps. Then she brings over her banged-up boom-box to play it on.

So we dug this hole in the ground for the tree, appropriately a Weeping Willow, and got ready for the "ceremony." Jeanine, thinking of Fred's favorite things, comes up with the fabulous idea of putting Fred in his favorite beer cans...Milwaukee's Best (that's right, the Beast).

We are getting ready for the ceremony and I realize that I can't make it through without some chemical assistance, so I pop an anti-anxiety and put Charlie on his leash (don't want the puppy eating Fred...or pissing on him).

So back to the service, everyone's solemnly standing around the hole with their cans o' Fred. Jeanine starts the CD of Bagpipes; and mom starts to cry. Then the CD starts skipping like a drunken man with hiccups. "Amaaaaaazing :hic: Grace. How :hic: sweeeeeet the :hic:..."

Now, I'm trying not to laugh and praying to God that the pill kicks in to keep me from giggling.

Then the family starts taking their turns pouring out Fred into the hole with the tree. And I'm trying to keep Charlie from running at this wonderful grey flakey stuff that they are pouring into the hole. He's all, "Play ! Play ! Play !"

Then comes the drunken man's version of Taps, and Mom and J's bro start sobbing. I was very afraid that J's mom was going to try to throw herself to the ground over the tree screaming, "Take me with you!" Thankfully that didn't happen.

Oh, and Fred, the alcoholic he was, had a wicked sense of humor and a penchant for Elvis, so someone thought it would be fitting to have a little fun with the ceremony. Once all of the ashes were spilled and the hole is being back-filled, they switch the cd to an old recording of the announcer saying, "Ladies and Gentlemen, Elvis has just left the building."

I almost peed right there, but thankfully the drugs had kicked in. Instead of spilling ashes, I decide I will help by watering the tree; so there I am, holding a giant yellow watering can and trying to keep a rambunctious Corgi at bay...watering Fred. How's that for a mental image?

But wait, there's more! Fred, that is. So ol' mom starts handing out the remaining cans of Fred's remains and asks that people sprinkle him all over the hillside...in the wind...and there are pieces of Fred flying everywhere. I'm trying to duck for cover while keeping Charlie from eating the funny greyish flakes flying in the wind.

Wait, there's even MORE! Fred, that is. They have reserved a little bit of him and they want to spread his remains in his two favorite places. So we take the remaining can of Fred down to the Legion. On the drive, we debate the legality of spreading remains on private property, and decide it's best to be as discreet as possible.

So we pull up out front in the black SUV and J's brother runs out with this bucket o' Fred and DUMPS them in the rose garden in front of two old ladies on the porch of the legion who yell, "what was that?????" Jeff yell's "the dog.. " and jumps back in as we speed off.

We then drop by his second favorite bar and drop the last pieces of dust in their property. I say "we," but really, I was just an accessory. I sat in the car dumbfounded.

And then go back to the house and have dinner. After which I ran home, threw my clothes in the laundry, and proceeded to wash the final traces of Fred out of my hair.

Seriously?! Seriously.

Labels: friends, generalized insanity

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Every Dog Has His Day...

This apparently wasn't Charlie's...


Saturday is Charlie's Obedience Class day. Yesterday started like any other...but as we were getting ready for class, I was giving him a good rub-down and found a tick the size of a corn kernel on the inside of his leg. I was horrified at this blood-engorged thing burrowing under his skin.

I called the vet and they told me how to get it out, but when I did, the head broke off and stayed in. I had to use the tweezers to get it out and then put peroxide on it. Charlie was a total champ and didn't whine or anything.

Then we packed him off to his second class. The first one went well and the second one started off well. He was teachers' pet and did anything the two instructors showed us. Then during the "recess," this other dog got aggressive with Charlie. Thankfully, he's not aggressive, and just did what he was supposed to...hunkered down and gave a warning growl.

So then class ended and we took him to his pedicure appointment at the shelter where the classes are. Well, this was too much for the little guy...he screamed bloody murder while they trimmed his little paws.

"Not COOL!" he seemed to say.

I went to an appointment and came back to find out that he had thrown up in his crate. He looked so pathetic.

So we left him to nap and went and got lunch, haircuts, groceries and came back home. I also picked up some Zodiac flea and tick shampoo from Smiley's (little local shop where I got Kira 10 years ago).

So we got home and continued the torture of poor Charlie. I wanted to make sure there were no more ticks or fleas on him, since he is getting fixed tomorrow and won't be able to have a bath for a couple of weeks. He was good about the bath, but by the time we were done he basically looked exhausted and spent the rest of his evening napping.

Poor little dude...And tomorrow is surgery...

Labels: animals

8 comments from the peanut gallery ·

American 'Mo

So each year I tune in to see what kinds of train-wrecks make it through to American Idol, and it seems that each year there are more and more Mo's getting through. Don't believe me? Check this shit:

Season 1:

• Jim Verraros (Adorable, and went on to perform in Eating Out 1 & 2 as well as release a sexually-charged CD)
• RJ Helton (took him long enough to come out)
  

Season 2:

• Clay Aiken (Oh, Who didn't see that one coming?)

Season 4:

• Mario Vazquez (mysteriously disappeared)

Season 5:

• No one of importance
  

Season 6:

• Sanjaya Malakar (either gay, or just really unfortunate)
  

Season 7:

• David Hernandez (Male Stripper...couldn't sing that great)
• Danny Noriega (Duuuuuhhhh)
• David Archuleta (Twink in Training)
  

Season 8:

• Adam Lambert (have you seen the videos?)
  
• Nathaniel Marshall (gayer than christmas)
• Nick Mitchell (just a hunch ;-) )
• Von Smith (straight men don't caterwaul like that)
  

Now, I might have missed someone, sorry, but this is just my own opinion in cases where the 'Mo-ness is not confirmed. Just sayin'.

Labels: music

1 comments from the peanut gallery ·

Invasion

Sorry I've been absent from the interwebs...life has been incredibly busy since it was invaded by a little, furry, slobbery creature.

I guess today is as good of a day as any to announce to my 4 blog followers the adoption of Charlie Winston.

Little Charlie has been absorbing most of my free time..but he sure is cute and loving.

Labels: pictures

4 comments from the peanut gallery ·

A Brand New Day

To echo the words of Sting, who is on the TV right now being accompanied by Mr. Stevie Wonder, it's a brand new day.

You've probably already heard it a million times today, but I'll say it again, today marks a day when anything can happen. It's a testament to America's resilience that millions have shown up in droves to welcome the new day.

Were there this many supporters out for Bush? Nope. That's because many of the people who voted for that ass were too lazy to get off of their asses to show support. They were the bible-thumpers, bigots, bile-spewing conservatives, and various other mislead people.

Anywho, enough of that..let us put the hatred and ignorance behind us. It's a new day, a new direction, and new hope.

Yes, We Indeed Can.

P.S. The president's gay-neighborly agenda has been posted.

Labels: politics

3 comments from the peanut gallery ·

Scott the Asian Rides Again

So I got a little bored with my usual repertoire of meals and decided that I was half-asian tonight. I also thought I was a really good chef.

Turns out I am a not at all asian and maybe even a decent chef. So above is my attempt at a meal with enough salt to melt Simon Cowell's frozen heart. Mango Chicken over Orzo (because I hate rice), scallion pancake with a soy and rice vinegar sauce, and egg roll. Surprisingly, it wasn't bad!

Funniest Simon comment this season:
"It sounded like a cat jumping off of the Empire State Building and that's the sound it would make before hitting the ground"

Labels: food

3 comments from the peanut gallery ·

Looking at you through the glass.

So I'm lying here on the couch, staring out the back window/door into the beautiful winter scene which is laid out on my back yard and the woods beyond. White and clean (not that the two are mutually exclusive), and yet I'm not thinking of the beauty of the snow...I'm imagining my car flipping 3 times end-over-end again as I hit an icy patch in the road.

Can't happen, you say? Well, it did. About 11 years, 11 months, and 11 days ago (don't make me count the days, because I know that's not right, but just go along with me). I was driving home from an LGBA meeting at school (that's the 'mo group on campus) and had just dropped off 3 militant dykes at their dorm (at 20-something they aren't bulldykes yet...). One had just commented on how much she loved my car, little Pedro the brand-new Neon (yep..."Hi!"). I said thank you and went on my way down the back roads between campus and mom's house.

I was listening to some Tori and getting a bit nervous about the ice when suddenly I hit a patch and skidded off the road. I tried to pull it back on and almost managed to when the tire hit the edge of the road and decided, "now's a good time to explode." This caused my car to take a nose dive into the ditch after which it proceeded to roll like a weasel ball into the marsh (wetlands for the Politically Correct).

I don't remember actually rolling. I've been told that this is a self-defense mechanism of the brain; that in times of great stress, it decides to change the channel for a bit. I remember the CD starting back up (it had started skipping when the car rolled) with a lyric from Mr. Zebra that sang brightly, "...Too bad the burial was premature she said and smiled." I turned off the car, which had dutifully popped out of gear mid-roll, and got out of the car.

Here's the scary part for me; when I was young, around 12, I started having nightmares. Well one nightmare. I was always alone in a snowy field and calling for help. There was a road beside me and a street light above me and I was scared and alone. That dream always left me feeling cold and totally freaked. So when I got out of the car this chilly January evening...I was right there living that dream. At the time, I didn't quite understand what was going on and didn't relate the dream to this situation. I was too scared to put those pieces together yet, but figured it out a few days later.

Anyway, the nightmare stopped, I guess it was premature or was it premonition? And no, I can't listen to that song anymore.

So now I stare out and look at that lovely snow the way that a child may stare at a shark at the aquarium and thank whoever will listen that there is a thick piece of glass separating us.

Labels: daily life, observations, thoughts

1 comments from the peanut gallery ·