Who rescued who?

For starters, my boss sang "we're going to rock down to Electric Avenue.." at me earlier today and damn the luck if that has not been in my head all day. For a good 3.4 seconds, I contemplated 'Electric Ave' as being the title for this post. 

The fact that I'm writing this post after 9pm is feat enough to alert the presses. I am never up this late. 9pm.. late for a 25 year old. I know, I know. Wet blanket, soggy noodle, get the moth balls ready cause I am an old hag at heart. I didn't intend to write anything, but then I sat down and here came a 90lb lap dog to snuggle with me. For starters, she put her nose right up to the camera as I tried to take her picture, prompting a straight up the nose shot that I cleverly titled, "Hey Aunt Sawah, has I any boogahs?!?!" She thought it was cute.. or pretended to so as not to upset my sensitive dog mom feelings. Thanks, guuuuuuwl! 

 So, as I'm typing this, Stella has her head laying on my leg and is snoring. Let's bring it back, bring it back to the title of the post... #whorescuedwho, known by one person on Instagram as 'whores cued who,' whatever that might mean in an alternate universe. Now, here's the thing, not everybody is 'crazy psycho dog mom treats the dog like a human and gives her more feelings than she actually has.' That's a-okay. This little gem of mine, though, most certainly has done more in the rescuing department than I ever will. Isn't it funny how you hear about a dog who has been abandoned, needs a home, can't survive without you and you think, oh yes, I can save this soul! Then, the Earth takes a huge piss in your cheerios and look who's doing the rescuing now. When I had lost everything, when I could barely make it though the day, there was this sweet gem with nothing but love. She legitimately tries to lick the tears away. 

The anxiety I get about whether she's eating enough, whether she gets enough vitamins or not, whether she feels lonely while I'm at work, whether she gets upset when I'm tired and I just want her to take a breather for three mintues is unreal. If you weren't ready to send me to the loony bin before that statement, you surely are now! I really, truly cannot fathom how parents of real live human beings do it. It's a million times harder and a million times more rewarding. All I've got is a dog bone in my purse.. you're killin' the mom thing in your purse with cheetos, a pull up, some mittens and Daniel Tiger on your phone. I haven't the slightest clue how you do it but hopefully one day you can teach me your ways. 

XOXO, 

A

Skippin' School

Alright, alright, alright. I have quite a few half-way thought through ideas of what to write about. I've developed a portion of what I want to write about on about four different topics but none have come full circle just yet. Per the usual, you're in for quite a bit of ramblin'.

It's Veterans Day. Federal holiday. In the banking world, we call that WINNING. I'll admit, on federal holidays that we have off but the rest of the world doesn't, I never can shake that feeling like I'm doing something wrong. It's that same feeling I had when I skipped class in high school. In my defense, the attendance system was fucked so really, it didn't count against me. I also only had one class that I needed my senior year, was I really supposed to stick around all damn day? Aaaaanyway, it is so weird to be out and about at 9am. So fucking weird. Seriously, if I ran into my boss out and about, I would probably try to hide just out of the instinctual feeling that I was doing something wrong. As I type this, I'm realizing that I sound paranoid or guilty.. interesting, neither are true.

I will say, the guilt was worth the opportunity to have breakfast with my best friend Sarah and her daughter Rylen. Maybe I am biased, but I swear that little nugget is smarter every single time I see her. She speaks so clearly and has the sass factor down perfectly. Among many others, she's got me wrapped around her finger and knows I'll do just about anything she says. I should probably start a Rylen says section of every entry. Here's a few from the top of my head:

Sarah: Rylen, you have to walk.
Rylen: Awex will carry me.

As I walked into Panera to meet them:
Rylen: Where's Stewwa? (Stella, the dog)
Because breakfast at Panera is a perfectly acceptable place to bring her. Now if the adults could get on board with this, we'd all be happy campers!

Sarah: Rylen, you have to go to school.
Rylen: No, I go in Awex's car with her.

Or, when I get the following text from Sarah:
"When Rylen sings the nosey bitch part of The Trailer Song..."
"That's how I know I'm winning at this whole mom thing..."

Seriously though, if we can instill one thing in this sweet nugget, it's got to be a love for Kacey Musgraves. And well.. now I look like a crazy aunt with the novel. Moving on.. before somebody calls the cops.

I don't like to speak on things that I don't know about first hand. Which is why, on Veteran's Day, I won't pretend like I can even fathom what it's like to serve this country, like I understand how military families feel, or like I could ever muster up the courage to do something so incredible. I'll just say thank you.

Two weeks from today, we'll take a little road trip over to Nashville for Thanksgiving. It'll be my best friend Annie, her house hubby Jeffy, her bonus son Zac, my boyfriend Stephen and I. We'll be going to Annie & Stephen's older brother's house. Follow all that? 10 hours each way. Wowza. I'm already preparing my liver... and my psycho dog mom status brain for being away from Stella for six days. With Thanksgiving on the brain, because no fucking way have I switched gears into Christmas, a few things I couldn't get by without:

Friends who are more like family than family (you know who you are.. B's, peas, BESTIES)
The 90lb lap dog puppy princess currently laying on my feet to keep them warm.. earnin your keep
ALL THE HOLIDAY CREAMERS!! Pumpkin spice, frosted sugar cookie, peppermint.
Cold weather. Gimme all the sweaters, boots, scarves.

It's nearly three in the afternoon.. time to, uh, shower.. don't judge the lazy on a holiday ;-) This will be the perfect transition from coffee to beer. Wait, what?! Boom. Livin' on the wild side, ya'll!

-The Bitch in Apartment 23
(just kiddin, I can only WISH I was as cool as the chick in that show... sigh)