Random thoughts, comments, questions.... all with one thing in common, they annoy me.
Why do dogs seem to think that they must wake you up on their schedule? I mean seriously. Exactly why does Hollow need to stand on top of me and start licking my face at exactly 8 am every morning.... Okay, I guess I should be grateful that this is an hour and a half later than the time she originally started waking me up (yes, at 6:30 am), and it does appear that I'm gaining about 15 minutes every couple of days, but really. I.Work.From.Home. There is no need for an alarm most days. The saying is you cannot teach an OLD dog new tricks -- and Hollow is most definitely not an old dog....
Sheez.
Why did it take me more than a year to realize that I could do my work on the water system withOUT having to clean the filters immediately, but could instead put in new filters, leaving the old filters to be cleaned (inside, in the warmth!) once the water sytem was turned back on? Again, seriously? For months I had been dragging the hose outside, along with a bucket, 3 filters and 3 filter casings. And then spending an hour outside, in all types of weather, every two weeks..... I'm sorry, I am not even blond any more -- and was only a "real" blond for exactly 2 years of my life (and yes, I do mean the first two years of my life -- and gosh was I adorable!).... So why did it never occur to me before this week's filter cleaning that I could simply take out the old filters, rinse out the casings, install new filters, turn the water system back on, and walk up the stairs, into the kitchen, and wash those filters out in the comfort of my own home. A frickin' year???? I swear, I have only streaks of real blond left. Only streaks!
(God bless me -- what if I were 100% real blond? Would it have taken me a decade???)
Dogs do not appreciate the wisdom, wit and way of life of Dorothy Parker. This is their loss.
The corollary: Having dogs does not allow you the ability to emulate the wisdom, wit and way of life of Dorothy Parker. This is your loss.
After all, a proper Dottie Day (ie, a day dedicated to drinking a slow but constant amount of alcohol while exchanging witticisms with any one willing or able to listen and parry back) is all about doing nothing but Dorothy Parker actions. Dorothy Parker actions do not include hikes, potty breaks and especially both on very very cold days....
Why do people love to draw up lists about the differences between cat people and dog people? I have owned and loved both (and would still own both, but I'm pretty sure that as often as friends joke about my smaller dog, Rilke, being "bear bait", kitties out here would definitely be.... Let's just say I have decided not to open up a convenience store in the mountains, which means kitties will not be happening.... Sadly....), so what does that make me?
And yes, I can actually hear, right now, my brother say "Confused?"
Why is it that older brothers think they are so much smarter? And funnier? And better? And why is that they are so often right?
(And that better be worth a damn good Christmas present!)
I once had a dream of being "The Cat Lady", and am actually rather sad I probably won't accomplish this. Which is both pathetic and vexing and a moment for mourning.
Why is it that if you are able to see the license plate of the car that just cut you off / did something stupid / almost killed you, it is inevitably from Maryland?
Seriously. Even out here -- across country -- the first time I almost got forced off the road by a crazy driver, as the car sped past, the first thing I noticed was that it was a Maryland license plate. At least I got a good chuckle from my near-death experience thanks to that!
It's not the heat, it's the humidity. True. If you have ever been in Washington, DC, in August or in San Antonio, TX, in June, you will know exactly what I mean. (And I pick those months solely for example, and because those are my experiences, and it is my experiences that count here. So there.)
We have a corollary here in Colorado: It's not the temperature, it's the amount of sun.
After all, the temperature can read 25 degrees and you can be in fleece. Or it can read 45 and you can be bundled up in every bit of winter wear you own. It all depends upon if the sun is out. Seriously. The other week, I wore sweat pants, a short sleeved shirt and a fleece jacket on a hike, and it was 24 degrees when I left the house. And I was hot. Had to take off my hat and gloves mid-hike.
Of course, when an actual cold front moves in, and it doesn't get above single digits in the day, the sun is certainly one hell of a help, but it does not keep your snot from freezing. And that feels pretty damn funky.
Just sayin'...
Has an unwritten rule that I may have alcohol -- or I may have ice cream. But not together. Unless it's my secret recipe for Vodka Ice Cream (a certain Ann in Virginia should remember *exactly* what I am talking about -- and if she doesn't I hearby sick Beyonce the Metal Chicken on her).
And yes, I do understand this is a list of things that vex me, and an unwritten rule of my own making should therefore not make this list, because after all I can simply change that rule as it is my rule. But it would not be a rule then, would it?
Reality TV. Period.
Okay, except maybe America's Got Talent, because when I have tv, that show is my secret love....
So I suppose I need to "amend" that "period" -- which should not surprise most of my friends since I seem to be literally (literally!) incapable of answering questions, emails, etc in single word answers. Let's face it. I answer in essays, and always will.
So my amendment: Reality TV about people's lives, not those shows that are competitions. I will make exceptions for some of those.
Procrastination is an art form.
Okay, that's both a vexation and a truth.
I have serious attention and procrastination issues. Heck, the blog was started as a way to procrastinate from my paying work, and now I find myself procrastinating from posting on the blog!
But I have also found that one can find a certain beauty and a required skill and talent for procrastination. Anyone can play a game or mindlessly shop or browse, only a few people can actually educate themselves on completely random facts that are utterly useless until that one moment in a million years where they come up in the middle of a conversation and you are the only one who has the answer.
Now that's a talent. A skill! A veritable treasure trove of resume highlights!
Yeah, okay, maybe not... But it does seem to have made me pretty memorable among my friends.
(I think.)
I do actually say "supposably".
And if you need to look that up, you should be vexed too.
But I wear my Joey from Friends badge proudly.
Why do people seem to have such a hard time just listening? Including myself?
(I comment as I "dominate" the conversation through my list....)
How can one both crave solitude and hate the loneliness at the same time? Is this similar to the fact that if I keep junk food in the house, I usually don't want it, but as soon as I have nothing left, I suddenly am desperate for some?
(And yes, roommates have always hated me for this....)
Why do people seem to think that no one can see inside their car when they are driving?
Dude, seriously -- I do actually see you picking your nose -- that is not a one-way mirrored window.
(Oooh, but wouldn't that be a great idea???)
Why has no one invented a "Heelys" hiking shoe with a small ice pick instead of a rolling ball? Or pop-out micro spikes?
Why is it sometimes easier to keep in touch with friends who live across country, not in "seeing" distance, than it is to keep in touch with people across town?
If there is such a thing as reincarnation, can I be reincarnated as one of my own pets?
How come every single time I call a business since I moved to the cabin, I need to have a 30 minute discussion with them over whether I "exist". Seriously. I did not call for an existential debate. I have enough doubts about my existence, sanity, and value as it is. I do not need a company that I have an account with to add to those insecurities. I promise I exist. After all, I do seem to manage to pay your bill every month.
I pay, therefore I am?
Why are dogs so demanding about following their routine?
And on that nice circular reference, I will have to come back to this list as the dogs need to go out. Again. On their terms. And it's freezing outside (I'm talking negative digits baby -- and that's not even counting wind chill).
Why do dogs not seem to care that it's frickin' freezing?
~ sigh ~
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