Hey look! I'm writing a new blog post! This is code for I Have Thirty Pages of Reading on the Medieval Conductus and its Use of Rhythmic Modes to Present a Report on for Class on Monday So Obviously I Am Going to Blog Instead. Doy.
Schmoobles and I (mainly I...) have been having a rough time lately with the not finding time to spend together being a couple, instead of being a Couple of People Who Happen To Be Within the Relative Vicinity of Each Other Working/Reading/Emailing/Studying/Etc and Not Having Normal Good Old Fashioned Conversation. For any of you longtime readers (Hahahaha as if there are any of you left...), you know that this is standard procedure for anytime we move to a new city and adjust to a new life with new responsibilities and new coworkers and new colleagues and new everything. It doesn't get any easier, though. As such, I did what any mature, balanced woman in her thirties would do when confronted with this challenge and proceeded to hold it all in for weeks before I inevitably exploded into a mess of salty discharge from my eyeballs. Bonus: I did it at the most convenient time possible, which was as Schmoobs and I were pulling into a parking spot on campus, 15 minutes before he had a meeting and shortly before I had to meet with one of my students and then go to a theory seminar. Do I even have to mention that I was also on day one of my Monthly Confirmation That I Am Indeed Without Child AND recovering from some kind of cold-ish, flu-ey, sickness thing? Long story short, Schmoob, amid a stressfulday week month semester forever of work at a new job, also had to deal with his usually-amazing-but-occasionally-waaaay-emotional girlfriend (I'M A MUSICIAN. IT'S ALLOWED.) going through a case of the Sads. To his credit, he managed it well by letting me blubber at him later that night and then buying me dinner. This always works. Especially when it's from this place. Or this place. So anyway, we're better now. Tears and a good roasted salmon heals all wounds!
Anyway, this whole blathery preamble is to tell you that, while driving home from the Dinner of Reconciliation, we came across this dog that was wandering around some back street in our neighborhood, going in and out of the path of traffic. We pulled over to check on it, as I would think any animal lover would do. I've done this a few times before and usually the dog will either be too skittish to let you near it or it will end up skittering back to the house that it obviously belongs to whose owners are dummies for letting it walk around unleashed and it will bark at you to make you feel like an idiot for even thinking about caring. Anyway, this dog was different because it went right up to us and was very sweet and friendly. Also, it was wearing a collar (but no tags - grrr) so it obviously had an owner. After playing with it for a few minutes, waiting to see if his owner came by and considering what we should do, we decided to call animal control so it would at least get picked up off the street. Unfortunately, it ends up that after-hours animal control doesn't care about stray animals unless they are rabid and/or have bit you, so they refused to come and do anything about the poor doggie. This, of course, gave us no other choice but to load him on into our car and take him home for the night. Duh! Also, we named him Crazy Eyes. For obvious reasons.
Schmoobles and I (mainly I...) have been having a rough time lately with the not finding time to spend together being a couple, instead of being a Couple of People Who Happen To Be Within the Relative Vicinity of Each Other Working/Reading/Emailing/Studying/Etc and Not Having Normal Good Old Fashioned Conversation. For any of you longtime readers (Hahahaha as if there are any of you left...), you know that this is standard procedure for anytime we move to a new city and adjust to a new life with new responsibilities and new coworkers and new colleagues and new everything. It doesn't get any easier, though. As such, I did what any mature, balanced woman in her thirties would do when confronted with this challenge and proceeded to hold it all in for weeks before I inevitably exploded into a mess of salty discharge from my eyeballs. Bonus: I did it at the most convenient time possible, which was as Schmoobs and I were pulling into a parking spot on campus, 15 minutes before he had a meeting and shortly before I had to meet with one of my students and then go to a theory seminar. Do I even have to mention that I was also on day one of my Monthly Confirmation That I Am Indeed Without Child AND recovering from some kind of cold-ish, flu-ey, sickness thing? Long story short, Schmoob, amid a stressful
Anyway, this whole blathery preamble is to tell you that, while driving home from the Dinner of Reconciliation, we came across this dog that was wandering around some back street in our neighborhood, going in and out of the path of traffic. We pulled over to check on it, as I would think any animal lover would do. I've done this a few times before and usually the dog will either be too skittish to let you near it or it will end up skittering back to the house that it obviously belongs to whose owners are dummies for letting it walk around unleashed and it will bark at you to make you feel like an idiot for even thinking about caring. Anyway, this dog was different because it went right up to us and was very sweet and friendly. Also, it was wearing a collar (but no tags - grrr) so it obviously had an owner. After playing with it for a few minutes, waiting to see if his owner came by and considering what we should do, we decided to call animal control so it would at least get picked up off the street. Unfortunately, it ends up that after-hours animal control doesn't care about stray animals unless they are rabid and/or have bit you, so they refused to come and do anything about the poor doggie. This, of course, gave us no other choice but to load him on into our car and take him home for the night. Duh! Also, we named him Crazy Eyes. For obvious reasons.
Crazy Eyes: "Oh, hey friend! Want to play?"
BB: "Bitch, please."
BB: "Mommmm, do something!"
Bela: "WTF is happening."
Bela: "WTF is happening."
I think now would be a good time to put on record that there was a lot of meat farting going on this night. Crazy Eyes meat-farts from excitement and BB meat-farts from nervousness. Together, they made our living room smell (and feel...) of hot pastrami and vinegar. Time to light some Glade candles!
Nom nom nom.
I don't know what his real name is, but unless his owners also named him Crazy Eyes, they obviously chose the wrong name.
"Duun..."
"Duuunn..."
"Duuuunnnnn......."
"DUN DUNNNNNN!!!!!!"
Schmoobs decided to sleep out in the living with Crazy Eyes so I could take BB and Bela into our bedroom with a baby gate up and provide them with a safe haven from this psychotic eyeballed (but totally sweet and funny) overnight guest. Look how cute these two are. Crazy Eyes looks a little like a Corgi here.
They have all passed out. Meanwhile, I am busy taking pictures and Facebooking about it.
So much adorableness in one little couch.
Car ride to the shelter the next morning. I was really worried that he wouldn't get reunited with his owner. It's terrible to leave a dog at a shelter without knowing if/when he'll get adopted. But we knew we couldn't keep him, if it came to that. Our place is too small and the Beebla would stage an instant revolt.
Oh my god, do you know what I forgot to mention? Crazy Eyes is an UGLY POOPER. I took him out back in the morning so he could do his business and - while BB is totally cute in everything she does including doing number twosies - Crazy Eyes immediately sprinted to a spot in the yard, squatted down awkwardly with his long spindly legs all quiverring and did an ugly poop. At one point he looked up at me and made eye contact with his icy blue eyeballs of insanity that pierce into your soul and I had to look away. It was hilarious. Hilariously awful. Anyway...
But luckily, the attendant at the shelter scanned him and he was microchipped! Hooray! Also, his owner had already apparently reported him missing, so he is surely back in his proper home safe and sound now. It was nice knowing you, Crazy Eyes! Your insane peepers will forever haunt me in my dreams.
So that was that. Egh, does this mean I have to go back to working on that damn conductus article now? Bleagh. I do have to get some things at Target...
