The Sweetest Girls

The are often together wrangling a cricket, or cleaning each other, or sleeping with me, or running 50 mph down the hall. I appreciate their sassy love.

While I went on my recent mini-vacation, my niece and her husband professionally babysat the girls. They would write me daily reports, and one was channeled directly from Chi Chi through my nephew-in-law:

Hello From Chi Chi

Hello.

Hello, are you there?

This is Chi Chi.

Are you listening?

A strange man is in the house. I have to tell you this. He is here right now. I think he is a cop. You can tell because he thinks he owns the place and then he starts looking under the bed and checking the water dish. I say, “Hey whatchu want? Whatchu doing here?”

Does he answer? No! Oh he play it cool, he no say nothing. Then he cleaned the litter box. At first I was all, “Yeah you clean that up.” But then I think maybe he collecting the evidence or something and I tell him, “You get out here.” But does he leave? No! So I think maybe I rub against his legs when he no looking. But he always looking. Always looking to me. So much the police he is. Before he leave the room I check the box to see if he took the shit and he did. It was gone. But I no worry. I make more. And he no bust me. So’s alright.

He steal a can of beer from the fridge though I think and then he watch all your cable.

Cops.

Mobbed

Two stylish ladies pull up in a huge suburban and check my address. I know instantly, and grit my teeth. Charlie sits at the gate and patiently waits for them to come in. Why does he have to be such a gentleman?

Them (at my stoop): Hellooo? Hello, hi there???

Me (holding the sides of the front door frame like Hercules): (Forced small smile).

Them: We are from your Ward, and we finally found you! Hi, hello!

Me: It must have been my mother.

Them: We hear that every time.

Me: I’m not interested, thank you.

Them: Oh, well, we just wanted you to know what Ward you’re in and just in case you need anything – the church is the emergency location for the area. How is your Emergency Preparedness Kit?

Me: No, really.

Them: Can we ask why you are saying ‘thanks but no thanks’? How long has it been since you haven’t wanted to be in the Church?

Me: Ever since I was young. I’m gay, and I believe I was made this way. There isn’t anything wrong with being gay. That’s just one reason.

Them: Oh, well, that must have taken a lot for you to be able to say.

Me: Not really.

Them: Well, whoever you are, or think you are, we are still here to help you, and you’re on our records.

Me: …(sigh).

Them: We’ll be back in six months to check in. Would you like your number to be a part of our emergency phone tree, like if there’s a flood?

Me: I’m sure my mom will call me if there’s a flood.

Oh hey there!

Right, so I decided to go visit a favorite person & crew in Whorizona. Road trip! Which meant sipping on coffee for 14 hours each way with Charlie getting his beauty rest in the back seat. I loved the drive even though I had to take the top of my head off and scrub my brain out after driving through the entire state of Utah twice.

Charlie had his first off-leash hike and mini-pack experience consisting of his new Aunt and Cousin. He did well with a new world, but had a pricky mood the next day. Such a princess.

It was a needed trip, and my guts hurt from laughing hard with good people, and my head hurts from wine withdrawal.

Charlie enjoyed having his knees chewed off by his kissing cousin, and was startled to find he could perhaps be bi-sexual.

Concert

“I wanna go down closer to the stage so I can feel the music with my body.” My niece and her boyfriend look at me funny. I decide to tell them the real truth, not that it would help. “I wanna feel the soundwaves with my vagina. I haven’t had sex in like a year and it’s a full moon for heaven’s sake and that music is so loud.” This doesn’t make the look on their faces better. Oh well, I head down the stairs by myself. I realize I haven’t been to a concert without my ex in like 7+ years now. It feels different to be on my own with all these stranger bodies. I’m pretty sure I don’t like it, but the music is good so I decide to bop up and down with everyone else. Nodding my head in sync, hands in my pockets, god why does that chick next to me have to take up so much space with her sweaty arm bumping in to me. I think to myself how I don’t want to mingle sweat with her at all so I scootch over but she takes more space and finally her boyfriend body-blocks her from taking up more and more space. I can finally relax into the music and I smell that somebody brought some Mary Jane and I hope I don’t get a contact high because I’m driving, and then I notice the stink of hot bodies all around me and I realize it’s mostly dudes and that’s why the smell makes me want to exhale a lot. But I’m impressed by the artist on stage so I stay in the heat and the wave of the crowd. After a while, I’m covered in sweat so I go back upstairs because I am old and tired and I make fun of people instead, calling “Your Team” to my niece. I am mean and old and tired. And smiling.

Yelling in Spanish

Chi Chi’s impression of me yelling about Sarah Palin. “Only a Republican could nominate a woman to be the second most powerful person in the United States and still set back women’s rights two decades” (quote from Dustin Rowles, http://www.pajiba.com/women-the.htm).

I didn’t mean for this to turn occasionally political, but you know, what with the potential worsening of killing the Earth and all…

This article is giving me diarrhea, but says it so very well.

What Charlie would have looked like

I have spent considerable time trying to find what is mixed with the German Shepherd part of sweet Charlie, and I came across this picture and melted into a giggling puddle on the floor. I swear this was what he looked like as a pup, and I’m just going to go ahead and save it as his supposed puppy picture for his Book of Remembrance. It’s from a rescue place in Chicago, and was a recent picture so I know it’s not really him, but dude, it so could have been!

Um, for reals yo.

A Study in Cat Calendars

Somebody has suggested that I make money through the sale of cat calendars. I think to even begin to cover the costs of production (a real photo program, a real camera, hiring a professional womyn-owned print company, recycled acid-free paper, etc.) I would have to pose nude with the cats. This is not unheard of in my “seemingly benign” secret life, but I was thinking if I could instead combine cats with some of my favorite products, I could get costs covered. For example:

October

November (Photoshop a local coffee-house logo instead of evil corporation)

This evening I walked Charlie without my bra on

I was tired (allergies?) and my boobs were tired too, so I set them free and didn’t really think about it. Let’s just say it was cool outside and Charlie got more attention than usual. I think I’ve somehow violated myself. I’d feel better about it if I had walked through a field of hotties or cookie dough.