Homeward Bound Ain't Got NOTHIN' On Me!

READERS: PLEASE NOTE THE FOOTNOTES THROUGHOUT THE TEXT AND ENJOY!

Let me give you a little insight into the wonderful world that is my life. You know when people start a story by saying, “You will not believe my day!” as if the sky fell on their head or they discovered that someone drowned their favorite whale? Let me be fair in saying that, I’m sure he or she did have a bad day. I’m sure that whatever caused said distress and dismay was indeed disgruntling. But I can guarantee that after hearing one of my “you-will-not-believe-this” stories, you’ll leave with a bit more perspective. I am not joking when I say that the things that happen to me are completely ridiculous and extraordinary. I’m telling you that sometimes I feel like my belief in God or a higher power exists because it has to. The only way that any of this makes sense is that there is something or someone looking on and laughing, using me as a muse purely for entertainment purposes. Maybe God is bored. Or maybe whatever guardian angels, spirits, or family and friends decided that today’s the day to pick on me. I swear that sometimes my life seems straight out of a movie. So here I am, still standing, able to look back and laugh about the completely absurd happenings that serve as staples in my life. And I really just wanted to share some of the joy (read: completely unnecessary chaos cocktailed with humor) I get out of these happenings with you. Because really, your favorite whale is fine, and the sky is still up there. Yes, your day could be better. But it could definitely be worse. Everything is relative, right?

Just a little background about me: I work full-time as a hair stylist at a male-exclusive salon and spa. That being said, I can admit that I have tomboy-ish tendencies while still maintaining my girly exterior… without wearing pink. I have a ridiculously large and loud family that I can only describe as functionally dysfunctional. (Seriously, I won’t get into the dynamic of it now, but it sure is worth another story!) I’ve grown up in the Chicago-land area and love this city but also realize that there is a world beyond the malls and Pathfinders of the suburbs and the depths of the Southside down to U.S. Cellular Field (GO SOX!). I am a self-proclaimed dork finding joy in such things as: hoodies, dessert[1], the perfect v-neck t-shirt, dogs, dogs, and more dogs[2], crossword puzzles, romantic comedies, making up words[3], witty remarks, and reality TV[4].
Now that you know me and the dynamic of my life a little better, let’s get to the good stuff. There are a few main characters in this story, a couple of whom will be introduced later. Who you need to know: Me[5]; two visiting dogs; my ex-boyfriend who we’ll call Greg for privacy purposes; my former manager, Jillian; and my now sister-in-law, Jill. The setting: Greg’s condo in River North. The plot: To ruin my day by what I’m convinced was supernatural means delivered to me through said innocent pups---all while I attempt to finish final projects for school[6]. I think the best way for you to get the real drama… the authentic story… the true feelings behind this is if I supply you, the reader, with the emails I’ve used to record the insanity all while venting to my family, friends, and pretty much whoever else will listen. So, here it goes… Sit back, relax, grab some popcorn or a glass of wine (or both!), and prepare yourself. Your day won’t seem so bad, trust me.

TO: Mom and Dad
SUBJECT LINE: Just thought you’d enjoy…
BODY:
…Hearing about my day!
As you both know, I am puppy-sitting my manager's two dogs. Just a brief overview of each incase I didn't tell you guys all the necessary details:
Moe: A 110 lb. American Bulldog who thinks he's a lap dog. He's two years-old so he has all the energy I wish I had but in a teething, my-kisses-turn-into-nipping kind of way. He is one of the sweetest dogs you'll ever meet, but he needs to realize you can't chew on people. He also has the most obvious mischievous twinkle in his eyes which is keeping me on my toes. Now I know why...
Also noteworthy, Moe and I have been playing a game all day that consists of him hiding his bone in a very obvious corner of the condo (like in the corner next to the front door) which I have to pretend not to see. If you do actually see the “hidden bone” Moe gets this awful, depressed look on his face as though you just ate his last doggy treat and the Iams factory went bust. If you walk past said bone without noticing, his stub of a tail wags so hard his butt wiggles and he has this grin on his face that simply says, “You idiot! My bone is RIGHT! THERE! And you missed it! Your nose must be broken or something…” Hey, at this point, whatever makes him happy…

Rudy: A ten lb. Miniature Pinscher with a Napoleon Complex combined with a severe case of A.D.D. He thinks he's 110 lbs. He will sit on the couch, but laps are preferred. And if you stop petting him he'll lift your arm to put it right back in the spot he wants to be scratched. When he flaps his ears his whole body moves and he looks like he's going through his own little earthquake. And he buries himself under "his blankie". This makes it very likely for you to sit on him. If you do sit on him, you'll get a dirty look and then have to scratch behind his ears for as long as it takes for your arm to fall asleep.

I am going to copy and paste emails to Jillian (the dogs' Mom) I've already sent today for the sake of me getting out of here and going to the gym. But please, enjoy...

PART I:
TO: Jillian
FROM: Becky
SUBJECT LINE: Oy
BODY:
So...
I do love your dogs. But…
I just had a food delivery, and the guy was supposed to call before he came up so I could just go out of the condo and meet him so the dogs wouldn't go apeshit. Not only did he not call, he knocked on the door, and naturally Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Drooly book it to the door to threaten and kiss to death whatever intruder comes their way. Long story short, Moe squeezes through my legs, and Rudy follows. They make it out the door and Moe starts running laps down the hall[7] with Rudy in tow. The door closes (and locks!) on me. And 4’11 Mexican Delivery Guy is paralyzed in fear because not only is he afraid of dogs, he's afraid of dogs the size of his itty-bitty self. Luckily Moe thought it was funny to hide in a corner of the hall at a dead end[8]. But the driver forgot a pen and I was locked out[9], so I told him to go and just run my card and I’d call the restaurant and explain the situation. I called Rudy and he came trotting over completely clueless of the madness he just abetted in. Then the challenge was to get Moe to “sit” and “stay” before I could grab his collar and walk him back. I called the maintenance guy, Kenny, who came up with three screw drivers meant to pick the door which ended up working out but not before part of the door chips off and Moe decides that maybe I'll let go of his collar if he drools all over my arm.
Seriously, not the dogs' fault. I probably would've done the same thing if I were them... That was, by far, the highlight of their day. I'm washing my Moe-ified hoodie because it's practically soaked. And Rudy's on his blanket again looking a little bit guilty.

I'm not hungry anymore... Back to finals… Oy.

PART II:
TO: Jillian
FROM: Becky
SUBJECT LINE: I can't even...
BODY:
Begin to discuss this right now. I'm copying and pasting my conversation with Greg to tell this story...
I NEED A NAP!
ME TO GREG: OH. MY. EFFING. GOD. Seriously! Excuse my yelling, but my day just... Oh my God…
So I’m taking the dogs out to poop[10], right? So we get to the park, and Rudy poops right away. Moe’s being picky, but he peed like twice. Rudy sees a dog twice his size... a German Sheppard to be exact, decides to talk smack and go nuts, runs in a circle around me, wraps his leash around my ankles and I fall on the grass in the park[11] at which time Rudy gets away and starts bolting as I’m trying to get up. I’m still holding onto Moe who then thinks I’m playing so he's in seventh heaven and he's trying to pin me. And I’m trying to go after Rudy. Finally, I get up and run after Rudy who’s chasing big, bold, foaming-at-the-mouth-could-eat-Rudy-as-an-appetizer German Sheppard[12], but Moe still thinks I’m playing. So he's running along side of me and jumping and nipping at me, but it's softly so it's fine. I finally call Rudy and he stops. As I get closer to him, he decides to take off again, so here I go along with him! Moe’s still nipping at me, and I’m running along in my sweats calling Rudy probably looking like a mad woman. I finally step on his leash and grab it when the $20 in my pocket I meant to give Kenny flies out and now the two dogs and I are chasing money, and they think this is fun. I step on the twenty dollar bill and grab it. I take a deep breath and attempt to get it together when I realize that somewhere in all this madness I dropped my phone. So the three of us walk back to go find it and luckily it is intact. I grab it. And we're fine. *sigh* So I get up, check my phone, and we're just about to walk home when, excuse my language but, a bird shits on my head[13]. There goes Attempt Number II at trying to get myself together, and as I’m wiping bird crap off my head[14] and walking home, I see Jill, my sister-in-law who lives in the building next door to Greg’s condo, who gets all excited and yells, "PUPPPIEEEEEEEEEEEEEESSSSSSS!" Moe takes off in excitement with me attached and Rudy running alongside. I approach Jill slightly winded and visually disgruntled in perfect timing for her to say,
“Hey, what’s on your nose?”
Me: “Bird crap.”
*insert her hysterical laughter here* (I was busy pouting…)

A few notes to go along with this.

1. I promise I'm not a bad puppy sitter. I am used to one large dog, not two of varying sizes and such different personalities. And while Rudy is about the size of my palm he has quite the personality and attitude that make up for his lack of mass!
2. I have no words for my day so far. I would like to go back to sleep and start over...
3. I typically try to stay away from profanity. At that point, I felt the profanity was necessary.
4. With that said… FUCK! FUCK! FUCK! SHIT! DAMNNIT! FUCKING POOP! There. Now I feel better.
5. Round II of washing hoodies. At least the birdshit got on Greg's hoodie and not mine. J
6. Please dually note that THIS. WOULD. ONLY. HAPPEN. TO. ME. WTF! I swear God is up there about pissing in his metaphorical pants right now watching this.

Going to the gym to blow off steam. Thank God these dogs are cute otherwise I might've lost my mind a LONG time ago. Moe's snoring and his lips are flapping which makes my day a little better... Little joys in life.
...Buying a helmet first...
-Me

Mom and Dad,
Hope you both enjoyed this. I'll laugh tomorrow...


THE END[15]






[1] Namely Portillo’s chocolate cake or R.J. Grunt’s skillet cookie. No joke, they are bits of heaven on Earth. At that point, who cares if it goes directly to my ass?
[2] Let me make this clear right now. I love dogs. I don’t loooove dogs. I am not that owner who makes out with her canine companion and will never be that person. If you’re offended by this, please take it as a fresh breath of honesty and seek help. Immediately.
[3] Techno-nerdy: The combination of a technology savvy individual with the nerdy qualities sometimes expressed through presence of a pocket protector, horn-rimmed glasses, suspenders, and/or flood pants. Please also see: mixes too many patterns and snorts when laughing.
[4] Big Brother, Beauty and the Geek, So You Think You Can Dance, The Real World, The Hills, Making the Band 1-12, you name it. Guilty pleasure? I don’t know. I don’t feel so guilty about it…
[5] Duh!
[6] Oh! P.S. I am currently completing online coursework to attain my B.A. in Journalism. So, yes, this story should be very well-written. Just an FYI, I don’t have “finals” as in normal college finals in test format. I have final projects that take weeks of research and planning and tons of time which I probably left to the last week or two. I am… Master Procrastinator.
[7] Crazy dog style… I mean, ears tucked back against his head and butt tucked under. He looked like I just opened the Golden Gates of puppy chow and Snausages.
[8] Maybe he thinks we can’t see him like we “can’t see” his bones?
[9] Now, I have to get this off my chest… What kind of delivery person comes to deliver food without a pen? That would be like me showing up to work without my shears… or my combs… or better yet, my hands altogether! Maybe I’m just a little sensitive to this fact since I’m now locked out of the house in pajamas with two dogs about to scare the living crap out of some poor resident trying to peacefully walk down the hall and piping hot food that I can’t pay for since I can’t sign the stupid slip, but I mean, c’mon… No pen?!
[10] In my opinion, which is always right of course, the term “poop” is one of the most underrated, underused words. Why replace such a quality expression with expletives when poop and doody do just fine? I’m telling you, children today… *humph*
[11] Which I’m sure has been soiled (No pun intended!) over and over by many a four-legged creature…
[12] Ok. He was big. And probably bold. Not really foaming at the mouth. And honestly, the dog seemed perfectly friendly, but what would this story be without a little embellishment?!
[13] And I’m not talking about, “Oh a drop got on my head…” I’m talking about some flying rodent using me as target practice. Smack dab in the middle… What. The. Hell.
[14] And hopefully whatever flesh-eating disease those things carry…
[15] Thank God!