Busy May
This weekend I have Courtney and Deanna's wedding at Crystal Beach -- lots of family and friends, beer and beach, lots of alliterative noun groupings. Then I return to Dallas. Spaghetti Dinner (!!!) -- if you haven't yet it's time to RSVP. Then it's back to the beach the following weekend. I bought SPF 30 so I won't get *too* tan. Yeah, and I have to find a job in the midst of all that.
April was spent at futile interviews and job fairs (this really isn't the most fun process), hours spent composing cover letters that seem to just get sucked into the vacuum. Between that and abusing my pets I kept pretty busy in April. I feel a certain kinship with dooce.com.
Her Chuck
My Jack:
The other morning I was attempting to fashion a glorious cover letter that highlighted my finer qualities when I glanced downstiars and saw jack on the porch playing with her new favorite toy: the cardboard pot my geraniums came in. In a matter of seconds she'd eaten the bottom off and managed to wedge her head in.
I immediately grabbed my digital camera and ran downstairs to capture her only to find that my new next-door neighbor had beat me to it. She click clomped up the metal spiral of stairs and confronted me. How irresponsible! Save your dog! Etc.! I set down my camera and gingerly removed the object from Jack's head. The neighbor huffed, "I'm just happy she didn't have death by geraniums" and exited.
Needless to say, I'm not cruel enough to deny Jack her favorite new toy, so I was offered the opportunity to catch her on film later. I think she likes it in there. But much like Pingy and Froggy, the geranium container eventually died.
(Froggie is on the right next to Jack. Obviously Berkley was more interesting at that moment.)
And yes, I've become that person, the one who talks about her pets and takes pictures of them. I promise that I do occasionally interact with my own species. Seriously. I do.
April was spent at futile interviews and job fairs (this really isn't the most fun process), hours spent composing cover letters that seem to just get sucked into the vacuum. Between that and abusing my pets I kept pretty busy in April. I feel a certain kinship with dooce.com.
Her Chuck
My Jack:
The other morning I was attempting to fashion a glorious cover letter that highlighted my finer qualities when I glanced downstiars and saw jack on the porch playing with her new favorite toy: the cardboard pot my geraniums came in. In a matter of seconds she'd eaten the bottom off and managed to wedge her head in.
I immediately grabbed my digital camera and ran downstairs to capture her only to find that my new next-door neighbor had beat me to it. She click clomped up the metal spiral of stairs and confronted me. How irresponsible! Save your dog! Etc.! I set down my camera and gingerly removed the object from Jack's head. The neighbor huffed, "I'm just happy she didn't have death by geraniums" and exited.
Needless to say, I'm not cruel enough to deny Jack her favorite new toy, so I was offered the opportunity to catch her on film later. I think she likes it in there. But much like Pingy and Froggy, the geranium container eventually died.
(Froggie is on the right next to Jack. Obviously Berkley was more interesting at that moment.)
And yes, I've become that person, the one who talks about her pets and takes pictures of them. I promise that I do occasionally interact with my own species. Seriously. I do.
