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« Spent Youth | Main | Answer: Things Money Can't Buy »Sunday, October 09, 2005
Ouch.
Last night I went to a party in my neighborhood, hosted by the brother of my sister Kate's best friend from college. I was out terribly late the night before and was exhausted at just the thought of lifting a plastic cup filled with beer to my mouth, let alone engage in conversation with people. But I love this particular family -- Irish, southsiders, Irish, funny, Irish -- and I love my sister and who am I to turn down such an occasion? Four beers and much conversation later -- Vonnie, Frags, Julia and Nikki, you all need to come to my house and live with me forever -- I decided to go home. On top of being tired, I had not one but two golden retriever puppies to tend to at home. JP and Lynette are on vacation this week and I'm not sure if I was drunk or high or under a spell but I volunteered our home to Finnbar, Glin's brother and arch rival for title of Cutest Dog In The Universe, Bitches. Finn arrived yesterday afternoon. I got settled in and took them both out, grateful for how cute they are and how nice it was that they had such a great time together. I brought them back in and let them keep playing, squealing and yipping and doing their incredibly cute doggie dance. I felt myself dozing off in bed. Then, in a flash, one of them let out the most blood-curdling bark that made me wonder if in fact these two hounds were really put here on earth as a way to pass the time before they went on to serve in Hell at Satan's right-hand side. And then I did the stupid: That is the dog bite that I received when I foolishly decided to get into the middle of the melee using only my right hand as a weapon. I might as well armed myself with spaghetti noodles as they were just as threatened. Today I visited a Tarot card reader, a clairvoyant and a masseuse and each one stared at my hand and, I could totally tell, wondered just what kind of animals I was raising. I'm not sure which one of them is responsible for this and while it's not their faults at all, I must say that they were way cuter when they just puked all over me. For real. Posted by Erin at 09:26 PM | filed under: Glin commentsHey! Sorry Kirsten! I should have clarified: The card reader and the clairvoyant were visits for a freelance piece I'm working on ... posted by: Erin at October 10, 2005 11:07 AM Oh, dog fights! My cockers used to get in a huge dust up about twice a year. It sounds like they are killing each other, looked like two dirty bathmats rolling around on the carpet. Those little teeth hurt though! I started breaking up the fights by throwing a heavy blanket over them and hauling them apart, or dumping cold water in their faces. Your poor hand! I bet that aches. posted by: Kristin at October 10, 2005 03:18 PM Thanks Erin! I was simultaneously dying of curiosity and not wanting to insult anyone (although I don't have much truck with tarot etc, I have dear friends who do, and I'd not knock what they believe in. They don't knock what I believe in either). Hope the bites are healing. I was once bitten on the nose by a gerbil. Needless to say, everyone I met then asked me what the bite was, and then fell about laughing if I told them. posted by: Kirsten at October 11, 2005 05:51 AM Is it just me, or does that bite mark look a lot like Elvis? (The early Elvis, of course.) posted by: e d scott at October 11, 2005 11:51 AM yeah ouch ditto! yes! my little puppy is getting less cute by the minute and I am sporting a beautiful scratch on my hand ( we could compare war wounds if I knew how to work a digital camera : ) you are certainly the little party animal at the moment. posted by: airlie at October 12, 2005 07:33 PM |
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So what did the tarot reader and clairvoyant say? Or is it private?
I'm intrigued - totally wouldn't have thought that was your thing, although since you revealed your vamp-wearing demigoth past, maybe I would.
Just goes to show, you don't know someone just from reading their journal for a couple of years...
Oddly enough, I spent my teenage years trying not to be misunderstood - I was enough of a geek to begin with. But recently my clothes have gradually become a little more goth. This probably has a lot to do with the realization that if I don't wear the funky black T-shirts and the Docs with big buckles now, I never will. And I might as well get it out of my system before I become someone's embarrassing mother.
And no, I don't feel as though I'm living my real life either, but I'm not sure what to do about it.
posted by: Kirsten at October 10, 2005 09:31 AM