Because Being a Dick is Fun

To keep my gym membership or not? That is the question.

The truth is that I don’t need the gym, I like the gym.

Yes, I don’t get distracted from my workouts when I’m at the gym. I like forcing awkward naked hugs on people I run into in the locker room (HI HELENE!) It is easier to quantify how much I’ve been working out by being able to say I went to the gym X times this week. But most of all, I like running into this crazy bitch.

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She’s one of Wu’s friends, one of those crazy Boulder bitches that has three children and a 24″ waist. Did you know she used to run marathons but quit doing them because she gave herself a stress fracture and decided they were too hard on her body?

Instead she does IRON MAN races.

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How does running a marathon, swimming 2.4 miles and biking 112 miles without a break constitute a less punishing physical pursuit? Fuck if I know. She says it’s more balanced or someshit. Whatever.

But I don’t like her because of the Iron Man bullshit. Nope, I like her because she’s a Christmas freak … let’s call her Mrs. Claus … and my favorite thing to do is jump out at her while she’s dressing or otherwise occupied and demand to know how many days it is until Christmas. She usually knows.

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Because she has all the x-mas apps

But today I ambushed her on the treadmill and I demanded to know how many days till Christmas AND SHE GOT IT WRONG!

WHY WASN’T I RECORDING?

You should have seen the horror on her face. I captured the aftermath.

I fucking love cornering people – all in good fun, of course – but what’s she gonna do? Hide? STOP RUNNING? Never. Bitch has got to get her 30 miles in before lunch.

I would deprive myself of this sick pleasure were I to quit the gym.

Decisions, decisions.

I’m trying to cultivate a healthier body image and not focus so much on my weight (I can hear you judging me, Sideboob, for getting lipo and then deciding my weight doesn’t matter but you’ve got it wrong, MY STOMACH IS STILL FLAT and that’s all that matters, my ass could explode for all I care) so I’ve switched obsessing about Chief’s weight.IMG_9652.jpg

It isn’t that I care if he’s a pudgy puppy, I am still worried that he will grow up to be 135 pounds. Every week I take him to the vet for a weigh-in and he gained TWO POUNDS this week. Fuck. Commence tabulating prospective growth charts.

9 v 13 weeks

He has changed a lot since I got him. He’s still very much a puppy but he’s starting to lean out. His legs are longer and less chubby, his face isn’t as wide, I LOVE HIM SOOOO MUCH!

I hired a professional dog trainer to come over yesterday and give me some coaching on Chief. You can read all the books you want but there’s nothing like being able to talk to someone about your specific challenges.

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Problem #1

First and foremost, Chief should be able to go three hours without peeing. He does it at night, but not during the day. Scott (that’s the trainer’s name) broke the bad news to me that I have to get on the crate training thing, which Chief hates, but he gave me some really great strategies and he sat in his crate more or less peacefully while I cooked and ate dinner.

I want a really well behaved dog, but I can be a little lax in my training.

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But I’m getting hard core about the crate training, especially since it is crucial to his potty training. I swear like will be so much easier once he has that under control. But he’s staying in bed with me at night! That’s one thing I won’t give up.

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Once again Loryn Brantz cartoons my inner truth. She is co-opting my subconscious for her art! Should I tell her that I changed my hair?

I also took Chief to the vet to check if he has a UTI. He peed in his crate (which isn’t too large, Scott said so) and it he was in it less than an hour. I had his poop sampled (clostridium … check, spiroketes … check) so he’s got that going on for sure. I’m waiting on his pee sample. Good thing I have dog insurance.

The daily disasters exhaust me and I feel like I’m losing it. Last night I missed Itchy’s parent/teacher conferences even though I AM POSITIVE I …

  1. Signed up for them
  2. Received a confirmation email
  3. Screen shotted the schedule
  4. Put the appointment in my calendar and attached the screen shot

But yesterday at dinner when Itchy said, “Hey, you have parent teacher conferences,” and I about shit my pants and then frantically checked my phone, computer, and email (including junk and trash) THERE WAS ZERO SIGN OF THE APPOINTMENT.

Fuckity fuck.

I also showed up at the vet for Chief’s appointment this morning (as my calendar told me to, as I remember putting it in there) only to find out it is actually next week (but my vet managed to see me anyway) and then I spaced a 3 day sewing retreat I signed up for – I didn’t space it, I just thought it was earlier in the month – and it turns out it’s when my dad and MaryAnn are visiting. Goddammit WHAT IS WRONG WITH MY FUCKING HEAD? AND MY CALENDAR? AND EMAIL?

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Loony bears the irritation of having a kitten around to “help”

Maybe Loony is still ticked about the pet hoarding situation and is gaslighting me.

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If you haven’t seen the classic Ingrid Bergman, Charles Boyer, Joseph Cotten film, check it out. It’s so good.

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I think the lack of sleep and general chaos is getting to me. I’m not judging other women’s choice to have babies in their 40’s but I’ll tell you what, having another kid right now would kill me because having a puppy is making me lose it.

I have to endure about an hour of this every night before bed as the kids exhaust themselves.

Loony and I are going out tonight. I have tickets to see HUMP! Dan Savage’s amateur porn film festival. I went last year with a friend and decided it would be more fun to go with Loony who is more capable of enjoying weird, edgy, film. Chief got some shots today so hopefully he will be wiped out and won’t make the MIL crazy.

 

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