>Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…for your enlightenment and pleasure, I present to you the Jennifer Lankenau’s official Guide to Blogging:
Submit a blog.
Wait some more.
Kinda wait some more until you forget you have a blog.
In a conversation with friends the topic of LiveJournal (ugh)comes up.
In a moment of panic you realize, “holy shit! I have a blog!”
Next day at work, you sweep the dust and cobwebs off and make a pathetic attempt to write something, anything, to reassure yourself that yes, you are still a blogger. Albeit a neglectful one.
Share and enjoy.
So, Monday, raining, Tuo Cha tea, Tori Amos (yes, I confess to a fondness for whiny chick music. It’s my thing. Let it go.), three-alarm fires at the north end of the street I work on, raining, beaucoup de charts to check in, raining, avoiding the chocolate chip cookies in my boss’ office, and, well, raining.
the moving out process is nearly complete. All that remains is to paint one of the upstairs bedrooms and all of D’s crap in the basement. Wait, I’m sorry…not crap. All of D’s belongings. And, well, stuff. Anyway, that’s it.
Excellent. Roger is a 6 month old Pit Bull Terrier. Roger likes to play tug of war, dig in the trash, drink from the toilet and attack the ocean. Roger is a great catcher and was offered a tryout on the Mariners farm team but he chose to stay with me so that he can spend his time loafing about on the sofa upstairs and emitting large quantities of gaseousness which I suspect are a side effect of his constant need to eat the cat’s food. And the cat’s, well, uh…(insert faux gagging sound here -> _____)
For some reason D&T don’t want kisses from Roger. Nor do they want kisses from me after I’ve been kissed by Roger. You’d think the parents of a now 5-year old would be able to stand a little Kitty-Roca breath. I’ve seen that kid do some pretty sick things myself. 5 year-old boys, man. Ew.