My parents are out of town this week. They, like most American families, are able to take summer vacations. I, for some reason, am of the idea that summer is the best time of the year to work 7 days a week for endless hours. As a result, I'm stuck at home until Friday babysitting the dogs while they, along with my sister, are at my grandmothers house on the beach eating lobster.
My dogs and I are close, but other than assigning some human emotions to them have managed to always view them as they are, pets. I don't mind locking them in their blanket and toy filled crates if I have to go out of the house, feeding them a broken biscuit because that's all that left doesn't faze me, they're dogs, they don't care.
This all changes when I'm left as the dogs sole caretaker. I find myself worrying about them 24/7. I usually close the door to my room to keep them out, now I've moved their beds into my room and strewn some laundry around so that they have a comfortable place to sleep. While I'm angry that they wake me up at 6am, I have to admit waking up to Finnian's long nose resting on my bed and his big black eyes pleading for food is kind of adorable. I frantically pace the house before I leave for work looking for anything that they could get into trouble with, left over food, socks, priceless family heirlooms, etc. After I'm satisfied that the house is dog proof I figit with the thermostat, is the house too cold? Too hot? When I'm finally satisfied I pull out of my driveway with a pit in my stomach. What sort of trouble will they get into over the next 8 hours? Will the neighborhood teen remember to come over and feed them and let them out? What if one gets hurt during the middle of the day, should i come home and check on them?
Like any mom the minute I come home to "my babies" they start driving me up a wall. They bark and run around the house like madmen. I try and lie down to take a nap but they stand by my bedside and whimper until I pay attention to them. Eventually I give in and pack them up for a trip to the park. Leashes? check. Water? check. Clean up bags? check. Together we all load into the Volvo and head off to the generic suburban park created for the sole purpose of exercise.
At the park I meet my counterparts. First, the lesbian couple with their mutt, Joy. They exchange a look of displeasure as we walk of the path and one of them blocks the gate. "Do your dogs play nicely?" she asks, staring them down. "Of course" I say, offended that she would even question my saintly boys. She let me in and I quickly unhooked Finny from his leash. I held on to Brodie....Brodie doesn't exactly play nice with some dogs and this wasn't one that I was willing to experiment on. As Finny and Joy chase each other around the park I talk with Joy's parents. One of them mentions that Joy has a standing playdate with another dog every morning. Should I get my boys play dates? Are they not socialized enough?
Brodie sits nicely at my side and doesn't move when Joy comes to give him a sniff so I decide to let him go. Joy's parents are alarmed, apparently they think Brodie is the devil. The devil immediately skips off into a corner to spend his socializing time eating grass. Brodie definitely needs a playdate.
Another couple joins us, this time a young heterosexual pair and their perfect little cockapoo, Sadie. Sadie is pretty and she knows it. Finny and Brodie are immediately interested and both run to meet her. They chase her around as she flirts and hides behind her owner. That little harlot, she's playing the two against each other. This will not end well. Her owner laughs and says that Sadie enjoys sniffing other dogs, but doesn't enjoy other dogs sniffing her. Ah, she's Brodie. I call Brodie over as this will not end well and surprisingly he comes and sits next to me. Good boy, make me look good in front of the other parents.
Sadie and Joy begin to chase a ball together while my boys pair up and head for the dark corner under the tree to sniff and generally be anti social. I chase them down and try to get them involved with the other dogs but they want none of it. Meanwhile the other couples are engaging in quiet conversation with each other. I feel like the ostracized single mother at a PTA meeting. Clearly they've heard the latest about my ex-husbands affair and are gossiping about it. I throw every ball in the park towards the group, hoping to either A) get my dogs interested in playing with the other dogs, or B) hit the couples who are gossiping about me and my made up life as a 45 year old divorcee.
No luck, like the Katsopolis twins on Full House, my dogs only have interest in playing with each other.
Joy and her mothers leave and my dogs immediately try and make one last move on Sadie. Finnian tries to win her over by stealing the tennis ball she was playing with. He needs some lessons on his game. I grab the tennis ball and throw it to the two, Sadie's owner grabs the tennis ball on the rebound then throws it to Sadie as soon as Finnian looks away. Finnian and Brodie will NOT be playing with Sadie again, not with that attitude.
After one last failed attempt Brodie comes over to me and sits down, he has decided it's time to go. I pack up my boys, take them for a quick stroll and we head home. Once home i do what any good mom does, throw them in the back yard with the sprinkler on and forget about them until two wet dogs cry at the backdoor. Maybe I don't have that motherly instinct just yet...
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
"Real Life" Begins
The old blog took exactly one year to become obsolete. After a little more than one year I was officially hired somewhere and now have a job, benefits, and an excuse to buy lots of cute dresses and shoes. The job is fantastic, great pay, amazing people and is something I really enjoy doing. One might even say that after one week I feel like I've already been there for years.
That's probably because it's in the same office I've worked at since I was 19.
The fact that I'm working at the place I've called "the office" (and sometimes home) for years is fantastic, but it does have it's drawbacks. First, that "Welcome to Adulthood" moment hasn't exactly come. I'm sure it will come the first time one of our projects goes to hell in a handbasket and I have no one to blame other than myself. I'm sure that will feel great. Second, my dreams of moving to the city, getting my own place and becoming a chic city girl have been put on hold for the next 2-25 years (the estimated time of my stint in the office). My house is eight miles from work. I do not have to pay rent. I do not have to buy food. I get to bank every dollar I make. I have two hilarious housemates in my parents. I'm not moving out anytime soon.
Even if I do move out, I'll still be in the suburbs. This definitely played a role in almost keeping me from applying for the job. I majored in freaking cities. My major is literally called "cities" (fine, it's literally called Growth and Structure of Cities, but you get the idea). Who the hell gets a degree that random then immediately moves home to suburbia?
I do. And I'm ok with that.
Two months ago I was lying in my hammock on the first warm day of the year. The trees were in full bloom, the neighbor had his fantastic playlist blasting and I lay there, smiling. I knew that in that moment I had everything I needed and I was truly happy. The only thing bringing me down was a nagging thought in the back of my head that all of this was going to change fairly soon. I knew that I could only be unemployed for so long and eventually I was going to have to move on, try something new, someplace new. I knew that i would probably be happy doing whatever that was....but I was bummed realizing that I had something great going and it was going to have to change.
Nothing has to change. I think I'm the first person to be excited that they don't get to start a new life with their first job. This blog will chronicle my new-old life. Despite the title the parents appearance in the blog will be minimal. Remember, they are like roommates. Anything I say about them will eventually lead to an awkward passive aggressive confrontation. Instead it will focus on my journey of trying to enjoy the waning years of youth in a land built for families and responsible people. It will focus on my forays to dog parks, shopping centers, root beer stands and libraries. There will be some work references although I like to keep those to a minimum. Now that I have a job I need to work super hard to keep it.
My biggest fear in taking my new job was that I would get stuck. I would get comfortable. This blog will hopefully keep me on my toes. My favorite thing about blogging is that I'm always looking for new things to blog about. By keeping this record I'll be on the look out for ridiculous things to write about, which I hope will keep me out of the monotonous pace of suburban life.
Today is literally the first day of the rest of my life. Ok fine, last Monday was my first day and literally the first day of the rest of my life. Rest of Life Goal Number 1: Stop using the word literal so much.
That's probably because it's in the same office I've worked at since I was 19.
The fact that I'm working at the place I've called "the office" (and sometimes home) for years is fantastic, but it does have it's drawbacks. First, that "Welcome to Adulthood" moment hasn't exactly come. I'm sure it will come the first time one of our projects goes to hell in a handbasket and I have no one to blame other than myself. I'm sure that will feel great. Second, my dreams of moving to the city, getting my own place and becoming a chic city girl have been put on hold for the next 2-25 years (the estimated time of my stint in the office). My house is eight miles from work. I do not have to pay rent. I do not have to buy food. I get to bank every dollar I make. I have two hilarious housemates in my parents. I'm not moving out anytime soon.
Even if I do move out, I'll still be in the suburbs. This definitely played a role in almost keeping me from applying for the job. I majored in freaking cities. My major is literally called "cities" (fine, it's literally called Growth and Structure of Cities, but you get the idea). Who the hell gets a degree that random then immediately moves home to suburbia?
I do. And I'm ok with that.
Two months ago I was lying in my hammock on the first warm day of the year. The trees were in full bloom, the neighbor had his fantastic playlist blasting and I lay there, smiling. I knew that in that moment I had everything I needed and I was truly happy. The only thing bringing me down was a nagging thought in the back of my head that all of this was going to change fairly soon. I knew that I could only be unemployed for so long and eventually I was going to have to move on, try something new, someplace new. I knew that i would probably be happy doing whatever that was....but I was bummed realizing that I had something great going and it was going to have to change.
Nothing has to change. I think I'm the first person to be excited that they don't get to start a new life with their first job. This blog will chronicle my new-old life. Despite the title the parents appearance in the blog will be minimal. Remember, they are like roommates. Anything I say about them will eventually lead to an awkward passive aggressive confrontation. Instead it will focus on my journey of trying to enjoy the waning years of youth in a land built for families and responsible people. It will focus on my forays to dog parks, shopping centers, root beer stands and libraries. There will be some work references although I like to keep those to a minimum. Now that I have a job I need to work super hard to keep it.
My biggest fear in taking my new job was that I would get stuck. I would get comfortable. This blog will hopefully keep me on my toes. My favorite thing about blogging is that I'm always looking for new things to blog about. By keeping this record I'll be on the look out for ridiculous things to write about, which I hope will keep me out of the monotonous pace of suburban life.
Today is literally the first day of the rest of my life. Ok fine, last Monday was my first day and literally the first day of the rest of my life. Rest of Life Goal Number 1: Stop using the word literal so much.
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