Reincarnation Is For The Dogs

I didn’t think I believed in reincarnation until I got my two dogs. Now I am pretty sure it does exist.

Hear me out.

Dave's knowing eyes.  And wanting me to scratch her butt.

Dave’s knowing eyes. And wanting me to scratch her butt.

I feel very certain that Dave, my Lab/Chow has a lot more going on behind those eyes and in that brain of her’s than just normal doggy thoughts. Dave is planning, studying, and memorizing our constantly changing schedules. When the German Shorthair Pointer Parker has to go outside, Dave might say, “Oh no, I don’t have to go out.”* Which she usually, in good weather, will always go outside when Parker does, just to be nosy. When I come back inside with Parker, it is then very clear why Dave wanted to stay indoors–usually a food-related opportunity. She will have consumed food left on the coffee table (at perfect muzzle height) by my toddler, or found the dog food bag erroneously left open by a human distracted by the toddler.

Dave is an incredibly smart dog. For some reason, she always pees (multiple times!) when I take her to the pet store, but she has never peed indoors while visiting my mom’s apartment building, even though I know that the double sliding doors and elevator make her tuck her tail in fright.

Mommy's favorite

Mommy’s favorite

She knows just how to sneak up on the bed so that you never realize she is there (until you try to roll over). She can be very stealth for a 60 pound dog.

For all these reasons and more, I truly believe that Dave has been a dog many times over. I believe her next go around, she will be a human. A very naughty human, but a human all the same.

Parker is a whole different story. He is a cat trapped in a dog’s body. I believe that he used to be a cat, and this is his first go-around as a dog. So he is still learning the ropes.

Parker and Dave don’t like each other. They tolerate each other, but they are not buddies. If they both didn’t have tails that wag and the ability to bark, I wouldn’t even think they they are the same species. Maybe that is why they are not friends, because Dave is more human than dog, and Parker is more cat than dog.

Parker is very demanding. If he doesn’t get his way, he uses his urine as his revenge, much like a cat would. He had even peed on my bed before.** (He almost lost his cushy, warm home over that one.)

He likes to escape and patrol the neighborhood like a feline would. When he gets tired, he stops at the nearest house and begs to go in, like a cat would. Except that he is not a cute, fuzzy kitten. He is a 55 pound hyper monster of muscle and legs. So, of course, we are soon called to go and pick him up. Some people are nice enough to even deliver. (Bless those people.) Parker has run away many, many times. He has taken a swim in the nearby lake and crossed the busiest road in the county by the dark of night. He came millimeters from ripping open the main artery in his leg on a metal fence post. I am sure he had nine lives, and is on his last one now.

What did I do to myself?!

What did I do to myself?!

He rubs himself on the corners of my bed, and on the edges of the carpeted stairs, just as a cat would. Oh sure, he does it under the guise of scratching his doggy ears, but I know the truth. He also gets VERY excited when he encounters a cat. He barks at them incessantly, as if to say, “Hey, it’s me! I’m a fellow cat. Let’s play!” The cats are not happy about that. A cat a block away once tried to attack him and scratched his nose. All Parker was doing was walking by ON A LEASH!

Parker wearing my son's pajamas, so that he will be "nice and comfy"

Parker wearing my son’s pajamas, so that he will be “nice and comfy”

He is a good snuggler. That may be his only redeeming quality. He is very warm, and can curl himself up into a very tight circle on the bed or the couch, despite his long, gangly legs. But, beware. Just like a cat, I have seen him sit on my husband’s head in the morning when he wants to get fed.

If we had trained him to be the bird dog he was bred for, I believe he would have been very good at it. Not because he is a GSP, but because his feline side would have taken over.

Dave and Parker are nothing like my asbestos friend’s dog, Joe. He is just a big dumb dog. He is friendly, loyal, and only has to go outside like twice a day. Joe is a dog you would see in a cartoon. Dave bosses Joe around like a human would. Parker bosses him around like a cat would. Poor Joe, canine through and through, probably wonders what the hell is wrong with those animals that look like dogs and smell like dogs, but sure do not act like dogs.

I wonder if I had them DNA tested, if it would detect any anomalies. Or a TSA scanner.

Dave already loves beer, and has very definitive tastes (not that she ever gets very much). Maybe I should just quit fighting it and treat them like their inner souls. Maybe I need to pick up some catnip for Parker at the store 😉

For more stories about Dave and Parker, please visit my People of Interest page.

* DAVE DOES NOT ACTUALLY TALK. Trust me, if she did, you would know about it. I would have her muzzle on every newscast and talk show across Northern America. (Hey Canadians! Love you and your hockey!)

** For a great recipe on how to get dog pee out of your matress, please visit: http://www.dogchatforum.com/dog-urine-removal-mattress.htm

What I Learned This Week – 2/9/14

This week I learned that my family and I have very different personalities.

We spent a little family time at Build-A-Bear (or cat) Workshop this week. All the animals we picked out are very different. But I think the ones we picked out represent us all very well. It would be fun to psychoanalyze us by our choices. See the picture below…

Our Build-A-Bear creations (l to r): Rainbow (my son's), Hootchie Mama Hello Kitty (mine), Lloyd (my husband's)

Our Build-A-Bear creations (l to r): Rainbow (my son’s), Hootchie Mama Hello Kitty (mine), Lloyd (my husband’s)

FYI–If I get 20 different people to comment on this post, you will all be rewarded with a video of Hootchie Mama Hello Kitty twerking!!!

Quite the incentive, huh? Send over your friends and family! All are welcome here! (Except Negative Nellies! That is why my mom has no idea about my blog. Shhhhh!)

Wienermobile

This post will make you laugh, and it will make you cry.

My deep feelings about the Wienermobile are plenty. Let me share them with you now.

I never knew such a thing as the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile existed, until one night on the 11 o’clock news I saw it as the final 30 second special interest feature they always do before cutting away to the Tonight Show. As a devoted follower of all things weird and pop culture, I instantly fell in love.

I sent away to Oscar Mayer for an information pack about the Wienermobile. In those pre-Internet days, that is just how we did things. The packet was a folder full of stuff, containing an 8×10 glossy of the Wienermobile, along with historical facts, and of course a catalog of fine Oscar Mayer products for purchase.

First Wienermobile info packet from Oscar Mayer

First Wienermobile info packet from Oscar Mayer

Being a good little consumer, I totally ordered a Wienermobile shirt (it was one of my favorites for years), a Wienermobile Hot Wheel, and several wiener whistles, that I then continued to hand out to people who were important to me for years to come. (If you knew me in person, you would understand. Or at least you would smile to my face and laugh behind my back about it. That IS the polite thing to do, afterall*.)

Wiener Whistle

Wiener Whistle

I was instantly interested in how I could maybe one day get to drive the Wienermobile.  Unfortunately, it was a college internship thing.  At this time, I was only senior in high school.  So, I hung the picture on my bedroom wall and wore my shirt weekly.  (Can you guess that I was not popular in high school?  I was Sue Heck, from The Middle.  I was so oblivious, I didn’t even realize how unpopular I was.  Except I had glasses instead of braces.)  At this time, I may have also came up with my dream of Jennifer’s Wiener Hut.

Sue Heck from The Middle standing in front of a giant hot dog.  It is like this picture was MADE for this post!

Sue Heck from The Middle standing in front of a giant hot dog. It is like this picture was MADE for this post!

When I started college and majored in Communications, taking classes in Radio and TV Broadcasting, and minored in English-Writing, I thought that maybe those would be skills Oscar Mayer might find useful.  I thought that maybe if I had a Wienermobile internship for a summer, that then I could parlay that into an actual job at Oscar Mayer.  Wisconsin is not that different from Michigan.  Weather or culturally.  I could probably handle living there.  I like cows and cheese.

When I was a junior in college, I inquired again in writing to Oscar Mayer about how to become a hotdogger (what they call the people who drive the dog). They sent me another information packet (not quite as awesome as the one from 3 years before).  Incidentally, that was the 60th anniversary of the Wienermobile.  They informed me that the internship was only for graduating seniors.  So, I would still have to wait.

Second Wienermobile info packet from Oscar Mayer

Second Wienermobile info packet from Oscar Mayer (Yes, I DO save everything)

With either the first or second mailing, they had sent me a cassette tape with all the different versions of the Oscar Mayer weiner song on it.  Traditional, march, bossa nova, you name it, it was on there.  I even used the music (and some of my other memorabilia) to make a commercial for my TV Production class.

[My apologies to the college students who are displayed within. I am withholding their names to avoid any further embarrassment.]

The Wienermobile came to Toledo.  I was brave and drove down all by myself to go see it at the Lucas County Fairgrounds.  I took many pictures.  They wouldn’t let anyone go inside of it 😦

The Oscar Mayer Wienermobile at Ned Skeldon Stadium

The Oscar Mayer Wienermobile at Ned Skeldon Stadium

As I got closer to graduation, I wandered into the Career Center at the college once or twice.  It was useless.  Usually no one offered any help in there.  Once the adviser guy did talk to me, and admitted that they did not get many job postings for positions in the Communications area.  (Gee, thanks.  Glad I spent 4 years worth of money here so that you could tell me that now!)

On one of these trips in, I saw it…

The sign to apply for the Wienermobile Hotdogger interships that year!  The year of my impending graduation!

The bulletin that Adrian College posted (Note the incorrect spelling of Mayer!)

The bulletin that Adrian College posted (Note the incorrect spelling of Mayer!)

But F**K!  The deadline was just a few days away!

I had to type up a resume and cover letter and get it in the mail, pronto.  I am sure whatever I had for a resume at the time was pathetic, so I am sure I had to spend some time in the computer lab to revise it.  The computer lab that was always busy, because many students did not yet have their own desktop computers.  (Laptop?  What is a laptop?  A cell phone?  Only guys on Wall Street have those.  A smart phone?  Does not compute.)  I went to the post office and mailed it off priority 2-day mail, which I had never used before, because I wanted it to make it there by the deadline.

Then I worried and fretted that I had not made the deadline.  I never heard back from them.  Not even a rejection letter.  By the time summer came and they would have been starting their Wieneriffic journey, I knew I was not worthy of the wiener 😦  I would have missed my then boyfriend, now husband if they had chosen me.  But I think he would have understood.  And followed me to Wisconsin.

For years, I was bitter about not getting the internship.  I still am.  In July of 2011, I was laid off from my job of 12 years.  A year and a half later, I was still looking for a new job.  I had gotten pretty desperate by then, so I was applying to somewhat crazy jobs anyway.  Then I stumbled across the Hotdogger job.  Again!  But this time, it was not tied to anything about college.  There were no restrictions, so I applied again!

I knew I wouldn’t get it.  And I knew it was crazy, since I had a husband and small child at home who I really couldn’t leave to travel.  But I had to apply.  Again.

So I could feel rejected.  Again.

I always knew someday I would write a blog post about the Wienermobile.

But what spurred me to do it now?

THIS!

It is for only 8 hours, and there are other restrictions (click here for more info).

I HAVE ANOTHER SHOT!  And because I am a powerful manifester, I will continue to get shots until IT IS MINE!

You think my confidence is cocky?  I have a $2000 6 foot tall plush giraffe that I got for free in my house to prove that I CAN make my dreams come true.  That only took me 20 years.  And it only took me 20 years to get a dog.  Hmmm…and to get a Red Wings hockey jersey…

I see a pattern here.

This bodes well for me and the wiener.  And for getting a book published sometime soon.

NEVER GIVE UP ON YOUR DREAMS!

RELISH THEM! (hehehehehe)

Once again I am coming down to the wire, though.  If you want to enter as well, just tweet #tweet2lease by 2/7/14.  But please don’t, because I want to win.

But if you do, and you do win, please swing by my house for a ride.  That is all I really want…to have a ride in the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile.

…and the Goodyear Blimp.  Obviously not at the same time though.

* “afterall” is one word in the funnygurl2 dictionary.

Jennifer The Pink & Purple Fairy

Stories of Fairies, Elves, and Little People, by Francine L. Trevens, Published by Playmore, Inc., Copyright 1979

Stories of Fairies, Elves, and Little People, by Francine L. Trevens, Published by Playmore, Inc., Copyright 1979

I have a book that I got as a child. It is called Stories of Fairies, Elves, and Little People by Francine L. Trevens. I think I got it for Christmas or Easter or something from the weird neighbors next door. I think they were religious people, so it is sort of a strange gift to give someone, but whatever. It isn’t a book anyone would have ever heard of. It looks like maybe it would was sold at the dime store. Maybe it came in one of those big pre-packed, impersonal Easter baskets from the grocery store, with coloring books and a plastic bunny bank.

The book was made up of many short stories about fairies, sprites, goblins, and trolls. And to be honest, most of them are pretty horrible. Just not quality literature at all. Probably just written for the paycheck.

But one story interested me. It was called Have You Ever Seen a Pink Leprechaun? The star of the story was a pink and purple pixie named Jennifer. (Dang, I could have sworn she was a fairy? Hence, the name of the post.) Oh-wow. Coincidence. That just so happens to be my name. As I got the book just as I was beginning to learn how to read, I of course went through and circled my name everywhere that I saw it in the story.

The story is actually about a family of leprechauns who find a pink and purple baby on their front porch. She is not only a different species and color than the family raising her, she is also the only girl child. To make matters worse, they call her “Orphie” (short for Orphan). Her leprechaun “brothers” pick on her mercilessly.

Then one day the fair comes to town. But it is not just any fair. It is a PINK & PURPLE fair! All the people there look just like Oprhie!

Then her father, King of the Pixies, shows up and explains to her that they have been looking for her all along. That they traveled around the countryside holding fairs, hoping someone would be like, “Hey, you guys look like the orphan that lives down the road from me.”

Jennifer and her father, the Pixie King, are reunited.  Illustrated by Jesse Zerner.

Jennifer and her father, the Pixie King, are reunited. Illustrated by Jesse Zerner.

Being a kid whose father died before I was born, I thought this was a pretty cool concept. A father who loves his daughter so much that he never stops looking for her? That is powerful. AND they ride on a unicorn. But wait, it gets even better!

Then the pixie father goes to pay off the leprechauns and to take Jennifer (Orphie’s real name) home. But then they fight over her. I had such a small family growing up you couldn’t have sneezed or they would have blown away. It seemed great to me that this pixie, with my name, decked out in awesome colors, should be loved by two families so much.

Except that isn’t really what it is like in the book. In the book, each side just seems greedy and fights over her like property just because the other side wants her. In the end, Jennifer decides to go live with her dad, but plans to visit the leprechauns during the summer and on school vacations. It is like one big, colorful divorce.

So, even now, sometimes I think of that story and Jennifer, the pink and purple fairy. (Hey, I have been thinking of it that way for like 30 years, I am not going to correct my brain now.) And if I mention it, people just look at me funny, because they have never heard of the story.

But now you have. I hope you found that it enriched your life.

…And they lived happily ever after.

The Rudest Thing Anyone Can Say

“Excuse me.”

According to dictionary.com, it is an idiom, “used as a polite expression, as when addressing a stranger, when interrupting or disagreeing with someone, or to request repetition of what has just been said.”

I do not see it as polite at all.

1. How can you say it is ever “polite” to interrupt or disagree with someone? That is always going to be seen as negative by the person you are disagreeing with, no matter how much sugar you put on it.

2. I do not ever hear excuse me used out of “politeness”.

Used out of anger and impatience, mostly.

A perfect meme to illustrate my exact point.

A perfect meme to illustrate my exact point!

The customers at the grocery store who want to get past you are not saying it to be polite. They are not bothering to waste their breath on a full statement, such as, “Excuse me, may I please get by?” They are just barking out “excuse me”, then trying to squeeze between the two carts that are still in front of them at full speed. “Excuse me” is not a magic phrase meaning “everyone get the hell out of my way!” If it is the day before Thanksgiving and you are in the baking aisle at Meijer, “excuse me” isn’t going to get you anywhere. If there are people with carts in front of the people with carts who are blocking you, THEY ARE BLOCKED! Incessantly repeating “excuse me” like a broken record is not going to make the rapture come and beam people out of your way. Trust me, if they could get out of your way and away from you snarling those two rudest of words, they would.

I try not to use “excuse me” ever. Sometimes I use it in a store just to get someone’s attention. But my voice is always too quiet, and then I just feel dumb that I talked and no one heard me. I feel like I suddenly became invisible.

And really, in that context, to be perfectly honest, I am using “excuse me” to tell a stranger “you are in my way.” And that is how we are all using that expression. Be honest here. Unless you are trying to give someone back the $100 bill they just dropped, you are not using it as a courtesy or out of kindness. You are being rude and pushy and have the same “get out of my way” attitude as everyone else.

Maybe it is just me, but I always think of “excuse me” as the rudest thing anyone could say to me. It makes me just want to stab them.

The second rudest?

Probably, “Here, have a tissue.” Ack!