On the news this morning there was a report on a man who has spent over $60,000 trying to get custody of his dog, an adorable Puggle, from his ex-girlfriend. Ownership is more accurate than custody I guess, since pets are considered property not dependents.
I’ve always believed that defense of pets should be plausible in court. If someone is threatening my cat, why shouldn’t I be able to defend them as a member of my family the same way I would defend my mother or myself?
So I guess suing for Puggle custody doesn’t sound that outrageous to me.
I know that people can’t help their voices, they are what they are. Sure, you can train your voice to a degree, but it’s essentially the same voice.
But I have a problem with women who utilize little girl voices. It goes against everything I believe in as a strong, independent woman.
It suggests that women are weak, relying on feminine charms and flirtation to succeed rather than intelligence and abilities.
It might work on men, but it has the opposite effect on me. I immediately dismiss women who sound like they never progressed past second grade.
Grow up already.
I’m getting too old to work fifteen hour days. After the long, multi-show day yesterday, I feel like I’ve been run over by a bus, a tour bus to be specific.
I have a headache, my legs hurt, my eyes are scratchy.
And I have an office job. If I had been on the stage crew I’d probably be dead.
I need to find ways to compensate for the long hours. Take the morning after a show off, leave early the next day. But that would mean admitting that I’m old and I’m not quite prepared to do that yet.
Every morning I do my hair and think it looks ok. I never think it looks great, but it’s at least presentable.
But when I get in the car and look in the rearview mirror, it looks awful.
So I start messing with it. Running my hands through it to fluff it up. Playing with my bangs until they are stringy and limp.
Why does the car mirror change my perspective so drastically? And which mirror presents the true reflection of how my hair looks?
I’m hoping my home mirror is accurate and the car mirror is just being mean.
I’d like to take a course in construction planning or management because every time I encounter a road crew, it baffles me why they are going about the project the way that they are.
They rip up long portions of the interstate, forcing the traffic down to one lane for miles while they work on one little section of road. Or they build a temporary bridge so they can tear down an old one and build it new instead of just building the new one then tearing down the old one.
There has to be some sort of plan. Right?
The only time I am ever jealous of someone else’s romantic relationship is when I see old couples walking along the street and holding hands.
I’m not jealous of people when they find “the one” or when they get married and have babies. I’m not jealous of my friends that have been in good marriages for years.
But when I see those old men and women together and they appear so comfortable with each other, it makes me a little sad that I will never have that… someone who knows me completely and still loves me even after fifty years.
You know those clear window stickers that have the names of colleges on them? It seems like there is an age range where it is unacceptable to have one on your car.
It’s ok when you are a student or recent graduation, almost a badge of honor proclaiming, “Hey, look what I did!”
And then it’s appropriate to have one for your child’s university, a showing of parental pride and all that.
But what about in between those times? At what age do you remove your sticker and leave the window bare until your kids to go off to college?
The other day I received a postcard from a local printing company in the mail. They were advertising their ability to create personalized direct mailings.
The idea is that you can change the name or the picture on the front of every single postcard to specifically appeal to the person you are soliciting.
The front of the card featured a dialogue balloon that should have said, “Look what we can do, Heather!”
But instead it said, “Look what we can do, First Name!”
If you’re going to promote a service, shouldn’t you at least get it right on your ad?
As I was walking back to the office from a meeting yesterday, I ran into a woman I know from various writing workshops.
We chatted and she asked me what I was doing in town. I told her that I run the performing arts center, and pointed the building out to her.
It made me strangely happy that she knew me as an aspiring writer and not through my job.
I felt like I had successfully recreated myself in some small way. Or like an actor who had finally escaped being type cast and won an Oscar for the role.
I earned my Master’s Degree through a low-residency program located in Baltimore, so for three years I spent two weeks in Maryland.
I haven’t been back since 2009 and, while I miss the friends I made, what I really miss are crab pretzels — giant soft pretzels covered in crab dip, melted cheese and Old Bay seasoning.
My mouth is watering just describing them here.
I like crabs too, but they are a lot of work and mess for not much crab meat. Crab pretzels, on the other hand, are easy and super delicious.
I need to go back to Baltimore.