Terrible Twos

Well blog readers, the time has finally come.  I am the mother of a two year old (dog).  My baby turned two on April 1st, forcibly shortening my birthday celebrations.  My birthday is my favourite holiday.  April 13.  In case you wanted to get something in the mail, there is still time.  But be quick!

When I was a very small child, I must have gotten out of hand with birthday celebrations because right before my own second birthday I was given the glorious gift of a little sister.  In mid-February.  No longer could I start planning my own parties and themes and joyous celebration in January.  She had stolen my spot light.  Understandably, I hated her for many years.

Then, right after I turned five, ANOTHER SISTER!  This one in mid-May.  Do you see how they neatly curbed my creative process?  My birthday party was effectively cut down to be slightly under eight weeks.  How is a girl to live like that? 

Then, almost exactly two years ago, I did myself in.  Adopting a dog/son whose birthday was practically the same as mine.  It must have been his snuggly little body, his puppy dog eyes, his slobbery little self, only true love could ever infringe on my favourite holiday and get away with it the way he has.  (I know, you are asking yourself, how much attention could a dog birthday get?  I am getting to that part.  Please be patient.)

If seeing dogs treated better than most of the humans on this planet makes you feel ill - well you better skip these next few pictures because it got a little out of hand!

A trip to the cottage for the most spoiled dog in the world.

His cage was decorated!

Dog cupcakes of course!

He might be all grown up, but he will always be my little baby!

With the dog's birthday as my benchmark, I hope you have a birthday that is at least this good, and maybe a little bit better.  Rainbow chip cupcakes anyone?? 

The Greatest Day of All - Ever!

Yesterday the most fantastic wonderul thing, in fact the best thing that can happen to a person, happened to me.  I was walking to work (sort of running actually because I was a little late), when from across the street I heard a little scream.  I looked over to see a brother and sister standing on the porch of a house, and a little tiny black furry blob go streaking out into the middle of the road.  The brother, who was the smaller of the two, stood on the porch screaming for his mom.  The sister, who was maybe about 7, went to the edge of the curb.  By now I could see a tiny puppy standing in the middle of the street without a care in the world, thinking she was quite hilarious for escaping from the house.  I know the look well.  Regis still frequently thinks he is hilarious when he manages to do something really rather bad.

Then the unthinkable happened (or maybe the expected?!?!).  A car turned onto the street.  I had been watching this scene unfold as a casual observer, but then I saw the little girl see the car and in a moment of clarity I could read her mind and it said, "My puppy is going to get hit, I have to save her."  But, my mature mind thought, let the puppy get hit, not the girl.  Her mom came out on the porch at the exact same minute and saw the exact same thought that I did, but was much further away.  The little girl started to run.  The mom yelled no at the same time I walked into the street.  I held up my hand to warn the car something was happening, the girl waited and watched, and the little furry puppy with a sweet pink collar ran right over to my arms.  I scooped her up, waited for the car to pass (it still is Hamilton afterall, and even an adorable puppy's safety can't be expected to stop these people from driving like complete maniacs!), and then crossed the rest of the way over and handed the puppy to the girl. 

That is right.  I am a rescuer of puppies.  I immediately texted both my sisters who both immediately texted me back with the same message saying, "You are a hero!".  Sometimes there is not a lot to validate me in my life of being under employed and doing pretty much nothing.  But on that day, I was a hero, a courageous woman who stepped out in traffic to save a puppy and stop a little girl from being hurt.  Yes, this is the highlight of my week, and probably of next week, and maybe even the week after.  But, really, who can blame me? 

Twitter me, tweat me... whatever you do on that crazy thing...

In general I hate Twitter, I don't understand why anybody would want to be updated at all times about people they don't care about.  It is like the part of facebook that I never use.  If you update your status too frequently I delete you as a friend.  If you are a relative or someone who it would be awkward for me to explain why I deleted you I just delete you from my newsfeed.  I really don't care what you had for breakfast, or that you are feeling cold/hot/sick/fat and ugly.  Another favourite is the fb poll, should I cut my hair?  If 20 of you 'like' this I will totally *insert stupid activity that doesn't matter to me if you do it or not*.  Or the religious updates.  You found God in the crowded subway today?  All I did was pick up multiple communicable diseases.  Finally the drama.  O the drama.  Fb friends, want to know why you have so much drama in your life?  Because instead of handling situations like an adult and dealing with the person who has upset you you change your status to "SOMEONE is an f-ing b*tch whore who stoled my boyfriend.  You know who you are.  I'm SOOOO done with the drama.  I'm totally deleting you.  For real this time."  These people have notoriously bad grammar, they also are always confused by the drama because they really think they want it to end.  I don't warn people when I delete them, I just do it.  I try to be selective in my friending, I usually only friend people who I am actual real live friends with.  I'm old school like that.

BUT I am trying to be cool and stay up to date so that I am not 90 at only 26.  The point is I got twitter.  Not for myself.  For my dog.  Search us at @RegisPuppyJr .  Hopefully I did that right?  Are you supposed to say 'at @' or is that too many ats?  I'm so lost already. I know there is a way to add a button on my website, I'm working on it people.  Ever since I got twitter you've been really freaking demanding, did you know that?

Also - if you somehow found me here without realizing, I changed my website to http://attachresumehere.blogspot.com/ .  I wanted to be a little more anonymous, especially to places where I am applying for a job who might be googling my name. 

The Truth

Dear Internet Followers,

I have been lying to you.  I have to confess.  Remember a while back I mentioned a job interview?  I did in fact get the job.  So, although I call myself unemployed, technically I am now underemployed.  This is a serious step up, and I was afraid to hurt my own reputation by telling you.  But I can't hide the truth any longer, I can't live with this lie. 

Here is my advice to you.  First, get an honours degree, work really hard, graduate with an A average because this is very important in the real world.  At least that was what I believed when I worked so hard in highschool my stress levels caused my hair to fall out and my stomach to be unable to keep food in it for more than about five minutes. 

Turns out the world doesn't care that you almost died to prove you are smarter than most (some?  at least a few?) people.  Then you go to university, where even less people care how smart you are, because turns out graduating with a 93 average in highschool doesn't mean very much there.  Fine, so you work hard at university to keep your scholarships (apparently my health and mental well being was worth $4000, just in case you wanted to quantify your stress, although nowadays I would take that $4000 and trade in my self dignity and respect as well and not complain).  You graduate and nobody cares.  So you go back to college to get practical experience in your field and hope to find a job you are insanely overqualified for.  Guess what?  Still nobody cares.  Or wants to hire you.

BUT there is hope.  A light at the end of this long dark tunnel, if you will.  Because after five years of post secondary school, working so hard to be the very best, you get hired, for minimum wage, to work at the mall.  Here's the part that really hurts....  part time, seasonal work.  Now, for the twist of the knife - you accept this position because nothing else has been offered to you and you need to pay your rent somehow.  Yes.  That is my life.

I absolutely do not want to come off as ungrateful, because I am very excited to finally be working again (4 hours this week!  Watch out world    ....  oops  ....  I was supposed to be sincere in this part ....  somehow my bitter sarcasm snuck in ....).  No, seriously, I am glad to have something to be doing, that pays me money.  I am also glad I have come out with the truth to you.  I hope you can forgive me for keeping this from you for the last week.  I am terribly sorry.

To help gain back your trust, here is an adorable picture of Regis as a baby.

Cutest puppy ever?  You know I think so.

My New Header

Hello Friends,

I have spent a rediculously long time trying to figure out a wonderful picture to put as my header.  Because what is better than a blog that you write primarily to entertain yourself about nothing and posting random pictures of yourself and pretending people care?  More writing and bigger pictures, that is what!

Let me take you through the thought process that went along with this.  First - I had a cute picture of me and Regis cuddling on the couch.  Fine.  Then I couldn't make it fit, and I tried to google search how to do it and the answer said something about checking the html.  Once I got up from rolling on the floor with laughter at imagining myself knowing what 'html' meant I realized there was a button I could click to make the picture fit.

But, seriously?  Enough of the dog pictures, he is adorable, but I don't need to be the internet equivalent of a crazy cat lady.  (Side note - speaking of crazy, I was at a course this morning and just noticed I am still wearing my name tag 3 hours later and clearly walked home with it on.  Oops...). 

So I looked at all of my pictures to try to find a new one, but I'm not sure what I'm trying to express here.  I was going to put on of me lounging by a pool, but maybeit would undermine the seriousness of my job search.  Then I was going to put one of me sitting by the Grand Canyon, to look artistic and contemplative about my future, but that seemed like a bit of a stretch for me.

I finally went with this one - me at a slot machine.  I thought it seemed fun and cute, gambling on my future, my ability to get a job, but still like to have a good time.  You might not want to employ me, but I'm okay, you haven't worn me down.  I look adorable and like to go out and have fun still.  I do not sit around in leisure pants and cry every day.  Nope, not this girl!  Yes, that is the right picture and vibe for my blog.  Definitely!

I got it all posted and went to check out my blog.  Well what do you know, apparently in order to make the picture fit blogger decided on a close up of my face (which is looking a little sweaty, I'm willing to admit), no real shot of the slot machine, and a full ashtray in the background.  I assure you I do not smoke, if you know me you will know I get headaches easily and am a bit of a whiner, and cigarette smoke makes me extremely dramatic, causing me to complain of being about to vomit, becoming quite dizzy, vision loss, and also ruining my hair. 

Anyway, I have decided to leave the picture because I thought maybe blogger was foreshadowing my future as a compulsive gambler, who takes up smoking, and has awful shiny gross skin.  I mean, let's be real, my skin isn't great to start with, and this picture has nothing on my current stress rash, but it can only go downhill from here. 

If you have any better ideas for a picture, let me know, otherwise I will try to come up with something on my own.  Do not be alarmed if I change it frequently over the next weeks.  It is all part of me trying out my new awesome blogging skills!

O - just in case you were wondering - here is the original picture...