Veronica Brush's Blog, page 12

Genetically Engineered Cuteness

I like to talk about a wide variety of topics. I don’t want my whole blog to be about my dog.

I just wanted you to know that I don’t want that.

Now on to my dog.

Some dogs are food motivated. Some dogs are toy motivated. My dog is people motivated. She loves people. Not in the way that all dogs love people. My dog loves people in what is probably an unhealthy amount. Like, if she were a human, she wouldn’t just be a fan of people. She’d be a stalker who breaks into people’s houses in the middle of the night to try and collect the scent of their morning breath in a jar so she could smell it whenever she wanted.

Well, that was a disturbing sentence.

My dog is a mixed breed. But not in the way that all dogs are mixed breeds (even pure-breds are mixed breeds as it turns out)(but don’t tell the AKC or they’ll implode). My dog is a mixed breed in the same way that the dinosaur in the new Jurassic Park movie is a mixed breed.

Some twisted genetic engineer with a billion-dollar lab asked, “What would happen if we took a breed known for its affection, crossed it with a breed known for its devotion, mixed in some DNA from a newlywed couple on facebook, then dropped it in a vat of liquid adoration, irradiated it with exposure to radioactive love isotopes, and gave it a snuggling-addiction? AND we’ll put it into the body of a stuffed-animal that we brought to life?” That’s how this abomination of adorability came to be made:

Science has crossed the line.

You would think this ability to love everyone she meets beyond all reason would help my dog in her career pursuits (hey, it’s the 21st century; Dogs are allowed to have careers outside the home!)(Besides, somebody has to bring in enough money to keep her in the puppy-toy-rich lifestyle she is accustomed to and I’m a blogger/self-published author, so she has a better chance). Unfortunately, this human-obsession my puppy suffers from actually disqualifies her for many jobs.

Police K9 dogs have to be addicted to a certain reward to motivate them through rigorous training and long, difficult searches. Usually this is a toy, like a tennis ball. In my dog’s case, the police would have to reward her by making everyone snuggle her. Every time my dog sniffed out drugs or a bomb, EVERYONE would have to stop what they were doing to give her belly-rubs: other police officers, civilians, bomb-squad officers, drug-dealers. It would be somewhat time-prohibitive.

My dog could be a search-and-rescue dog. She would excel at the searching half. The only problem would be the rescuing part. Once she found a person, she would like to just nestle down with them under the snow and get petted. She would take it as a personal offense if the person she found insisted on being flown off in a rescue helicopter to go to a hospital instead of snuggling with her. Many of her “rescues” would bleed-out or freeze to death before she would feel she had received enough snuggling to let the person be rescued. She would also take that as a personal offense. Death is no excuse to stop petting her.

I considered making her a therapy dog for a while. I went out and bought a book about training your dog to be a therapy dog. The opening sentence of the very first chapter was, “A good therapy dog is both calm and quiet.” I got that far and then threw out the book.

My dog is calm and quiet in a relative sense, assuming the thing you are comparing her to is a soccer riot. She is a vocal dog. She loves people SO MUCH, she can’t keep quiet about it! She needs to shout it from the rooftops, by which I mean bark it in your face.

And, like all addicts, she is a little jittery.

Also, there is a very fine line in her mind between “snuggling” and “wrestling”.

And God help the person who decides to stop giving her belly-rubs before they have met their belly-rub quota.

So therapy dog is out.

But I’m sure there are some jobs that my dog would be good at. Soccer riot instigator, for one.

My dog is also good at building up your self-esteem. It’s hard to feel bad about yourself when those big, black eyes stare deeply into yours to say, “I love you so much, I wish I could lick your brain! I will settle for the inside of your nose, however.”

So, wherever you are, whatever your problems, know that somewhere out there is a dog who has never met you who thinks you are so great, she might just start a soccer riot to prove it.

Dogs vs Cats, Season Finale

We’re discussing Cats vs Dogs (or “Pets that will demolish your house on purpose vs pets that will demolish your house on accident”)

Intelligence. I know what you’re thinking: “Why am I reading this? Can I seriously not think of anything else to do?” Sure, but a cat’s bigger brains aren’t necessarily a good thing. Limited smartness works to a dog’s advantage.

We already established a dog loves you more than a cat and that is because a dog just doesn’t have the capacity to even consider that you aren’t perfect. You can open the cabinet where the food is kept and despite the fact that this clearly means you could keep all that delicious dog food for yourself, you choose instead to share not only the kibbles, but also the highly valued tasty bits. Humans have also mastered the art of both the belly rub and the behind-ear scratch. That is flat out amazing to a dog.

My dog is completely surprised and overjoyed every time we end our walks back at our house. That’s endearing. So is the fact that when she farts, her eyes get wide and she whips her head around to stare at her backside like she thinks some Bond villain is about to come climbing out, cat in arms, and ask, “Surprised to see me alive?”

Cats on the other hand not only have the ability to recognize your flaws, but I believe, based on their behavior, that cats also have the imagination to blame you for things you don’t even do. Have you ever tried to feed cat a different brand of food from the usual? They don’t just not eat it. They resent it and they want you to know it. They look at you as if to say:

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice? This clearly is not what I eat. Why the sudden change, hmm? It wouldn’t be that you’re trying to poison me and you thought this brand of slop would hide the taste of the poison a little better, would it? Trying to get rid of me, are we? Well, you’re going to have to try harder than that. We both know I’m too smart for you.

“Ever wonder why I run around like a maniac at 2am? Running at night sharpens the mind.

“So you just make sure that tomorrow my regular slop appears for breakfast and then the police won’t have to get involved. And you know I can get them to come. All I have to do is get myself stuck in that tree again.

“I’m watching you, jack.”

Conversely, a dog could never suspect you of making a simple mistake, let alone homicide.

This is also why cats don’t make good service animals. Dogs do what they’re told because they just want you to be happy and they trust that, whatever it is you want to do, it’s going to be the greatest thing ever. If a dog was too smart, every time a blind person went out the door, the service dog would not take them to the bus that gets them to work, but instead choose to get on the bus that takes them to the pet food store. Every single day. Luckily dogs don’t have the capacity to figure that out.

Cats on the other hand feel no need to do what a human wants. So as soon as a blind person was out the door, their service cat would point them in the general direction of a bus stop and then slip out of the harness and wander off to do their own thing.

So, despite being able to score higher on the SAT’s, cats do not win in the category of smartliness.

Now maybe this article has been ever so slightly skewed in a dog’s favor. I thought I could be more impartial, but as we speak, my dog is sitting all snuggly onamy lap shelpingdf nty typeasd. dhaKFDHFKDHFjkad asdfhsd. Other than occasionally laying her head across the keyboard, she is very well behaved. She never leaves more than what I would consider an acceptable amount of drool behind. And that time she sneezed something out onto a key, it was on the letter ‘Q’. I don’t really need to use that key anyway. I’d like to see a cat have that level of consideration when sneezing.

So, really I guess it’s not a matter of one species being “better” than the other. It’s all a matter of preference. Some people can use all the love, support, and admiration they can get. Some people need help staying grounded and humble and could use a little less love and also like to feel unwelcome in their own home.

Next season our pet topic will be Gerbils and Fish: the swiftest way to introduce your child to the circle of life, because gerbils can’t stop having babies and fish can’t stay alive.

Dogs vs Cats

I don’t like to be controversial, but here goes.

I think we, as a world, need to bring up the tough topics, like which is better: cats or dogs. Allow me to lead you through an unbiased discussion. I’m not going to make any final judgment calls here about ultimately which is better, because it’s not my place. And we all know how overly-sensitive cat people can be.

Full disclosure: During my life, I have owned 3 dogs and 0 cats. I feel that makes me impartial because I won’t have any of the negative associations that come from owning a cat.

So, let’s look at the evidence in different aspects of both dogs and that other animal.

Behavior. A lot of people tell me, “My cat is great! He’s just like a dog! He comes when I call him, loves to snuggle, and even does tricks!” In other words, the best thing about your animal is that it imitates another animal?

When’s the last time you heard this conversation go the other way? “My dog is great! I can’t even find her in my house half the time, she shreds my furniture and my curtains, and gives me looks to let me know how much she wishes she could feed herself so I wouldn’t be needed in her life.”

For that matter, when’s the last time you ever heard of an animal being praised for behaving like a completely different animal that wasn’t a dog? “Oh, the chicken we have is great! She’s just like a rhinoceros. She’s always charging around, knocking things over, and…engaging in other well-known typical rhino behaviors.” (Well, clearly I should have given more thought to what animals I picked for my analogy, but it still stands.)

But the goodness of an animal is often judged against what we consider to be the ultimate animal: dog.

Love. Do we even have to discuss this one? Have you ever seen a video of a cat reacting to their owner returning from deployment? You never will. Dogs love you. Cats hate you, except when you’re feeding them, during which they manage to tolerate you. That and static electricity are as much warmth as you are ever going to get from a cat.

Hygiene. It is true that cats seem to be more concerned with general cleanliness than dogs. Sure, both have been known to vomit in your bed. But cats, while ignoring your health, are deeply concerned with their own personal hygiene. Dogs haven’t given thought to anybody’s hygiene. It’s not because dogs don’t want to be clean. My dog and I just happen to disagree about what an appropriate way for her to smell is. I periodically have that same disagreement with people I sit next to on the bus. That doesn’t make me better than them. It just makes me better at bathing and social situations and…you know, that was another bad analogy.

Dead things. It is a well-known fact that cats will bring you dead things. That isn’t okay. My dog has never ever, ever brought me a dead thing. I suspect it is because anything dead she finds, she eats. That is also not okay. Sometimes she comes running into the house, more excited than normal (which is A LOT of excitement), and she leaps into my lap and begins adamantly licking my face. I notice her breath smells worse than usual (which is A LOT of smell) and I wonder what she has gotten into. Given her penchant for eating things (Owning a dog, I have had to repeat things I never dreamed of saying even once, like “Would you stop licking the bathtub?!”), I’m sure her breath smells because of something she’s eaten outside. Maybe it would be slightly better if I thought she caught something like a squirrel, which she killed and ate it, as opposed to finding something already diseased and decaying. But I know this is not the case. Her lineage is one in which the skilled hunters were passed over by possible mates in favor of sheer adorability.

If looks could kill, my dog still wouldn’t have a chance at killing anything. Other than chew toys.

Poor…um…moose? never stood a chance.

To recap, in the category of dead things, cats may in fact take a slight lead over dogs. But ONLY because the dead things cats get involved with are slightly newlier dead.

Tune in next time for the thrilling conclusion!  You won’t believe who wins!

Unless you’re a dog person.

Train of…Whatnow?

I published a book that has nothing to do with this blog.

So those of you who hate this blog but still read it for some reason are in for a real treat!

The rest of you may enjoy it as well.

But I don’t really want to talk about that.

It’s none of my business if you read quality fiction or not.

On a totally unrelated note, well read people are sexy.

Just sayin.

It’s a novella, so it won’t even take you that long to read.

It’s based on a true story.  People love that.

Parrots, on the other hand, are indifferent to true stories.

It’s actually based on what will possibly be true story.

(Is that warming your parrot to my book at all?)

There are 3 different space exploration groups that are actually planning on sending people to live on Mars, some of them with no way back.  Can you imagine how horribly wrong that could go?  I can and I did!

Okay, maybe you can, too.  But did you write it down?  I did!

And Amazon published it, and they don’t publish just anybody.

They only publish just anybody who isn’t involved in porn or copyright infringement.

So I did technically pass a very stringent, albeit broad, selection process.

Like fish in a barrel: not all of them can manage to get hit.

Only the ones with booksmarts, like me.

Full disclosure: I am not a fish.

Not currently anyway.

Not currently in a barrel anyway.

And I’m sorry if you were hoping my book was copyright-infringed porn.

(No way to know for sure that it isn’t unless you buy it and read it!)

It could even save your life.

I haven’t quite worked out all the details on how that would work, but it is in the realm of possibility I’m sure.

It’s not even $4, for the love of Pete!  JUST BUY IT!

I don’t know why you should love Pete.

I’m much more inclined to love Matt Damon.

Matt Damon likes books about Mars.

Allegedly.

I have to say “allegedly” so I don’t get sued.

Matt Damon’s popularity among people on other planets might be hurt by me flinging around unverified statements regarding what mediums about which planets Matt Damon favors.

So Matt Damon allegedly likes books about Mars and allegedly hates pamphlets about Neptune.

Don’t even get him allegedly started on surveys about Alpha Centauri.

Matt Damon is allegedly opinionated.

Allegedly is the “bless their heart” of the legal world.

Matt Damon has never read this blog, “allegedly”.

(“Allegedly” is also the reverse-psychology of the gossip world).

Sources close to Matt Damon say he is very happy (because sources close to people always say that).

I would hope that if I become famous, sources close to me would say more original things.

“Sources close to Veronica said she is a little gassy.”

“Those sources consequently are now a little less close to Veronica.”

Flatulence humor.  My parents are so proud.  Allegedly.

In summation…farts, Matt Damon, fish, Mars, parrots, novella, sexy, invisible cantaloupe (you didn’t see that part), and blog.

Oh, and video.

Only Uman

Here’s a challenge: Say the word “human” in front of a candle.

If the flame didn’t go out or at least flicker, get in your car and go see a speech therapist right now for the sake of all the people who just want to punch you in the face every time they hear you say “Uman.” There’s an ‘h’ there for a reason. You can’t just not use the letter ‘h’ wenever your eart as te inclination.

Uman is not a word. Were te ell did tat come from? It is not considered te proper pronunciation of a word long mispronounced. Ow would you feel if I always said “Amburger”? Wouldn’t you ate it? We’re not people wit deligtful cockney accents, so you can’t just not say te first letter of words and expect people to ave fait in your inerent intelligence Yes, te word “our” as a silent ”. Tat doesn’t mean tey’re all silent. I’m sure tere’s some linguisticalogical (spell-ceck didn’t like linguistical, and if I’m going to make up a word, I go all out) reason for tis, but I don’t feel like looking it up rigt now. Actually Google and I aren’t on speaking terms just at te moment. I’ll tell you wy (but don’t tink I won’t come back to tis Uman debacle).

I just got my first smartpone. And for tose of you cecking your watces, I know I’m beind te curve. Tat’s ow I roll. I wait until te tecnology is old and ceap and tat’s wen I get it. It works so muc better by ten anyway. Also, I loved my flip pone. It once fell out of my pocket and came apart into pieces in te crosswalk. And I couldn’t get back to it fast enoug, and so I ad to stand and watc te pieces get run over several times. But at te next ligt, I went back, picked up te pieces, put it back togeter and, minus a few superficial cips, it worked perfectly. You drop a smartpone once and it’s going to satter. Unfortunately my pone, toug indestructible, stopped being able to communicate wit more advanced pones. I started only getting partial text messages, tat usually said someting like, “Watever you do, don’t forget tat…” and tat was all. Someow my pone would always miss te most important part of every message. And I still never quite made it to te pone store. But ten my battery stopped olding a carge and carging it two or tree times a day just wasn’t practical. So new pone (ceapest, oldest model).

One fancy feature my flip pone didn’t ave was voice recognition. I’ve never seen it work well on oter people’s pones. Usually tey end up standing tere yelling into teir pones, “Call mom. No, I said call mom. No, caaalll mom. No call mmmooommmm. Etc.” I tried mine, expecting te same uselessness, but it surprised me by earing me perfectly. For days my pone listened and understood me. It was all great until I made te mistake of bragging to oters. Pride comet before te fall. I said, “My pone’s voice recognition works great. Watc tis. Google, find movie times near us.” And Google said, “Moving companies near te US?” And pretty soon I was yelling into my pone just like every person I’d ever seen talk to teir pones before. I’m positive it did it to me on purpose. So now I’m not on speaking terms wit Google. I’d stop speaking to my pone, too, but tat’s ard to do wen people keep calling.

Anyway, I ope tat tose of you wo ave te abit of saying Uman ave realized ow orribly irritating it is to just leave out a random letter of a word. You don’t look educated or ip or appy or onest or yper or elpful or alf-earted or andy or ungover (well, maybe a little ungover). So te next time you are going to say Uman, stop and tink ow unelpful it is to ave suc a umongous vocal abit like tis. You give te rest of us a eadace. But pardon me if I’m too iganded.

Commercials

I wouldn’t mind commercials so much if they didn’t take up SO much time. We have reached a tipping point where there is equal parts commercial and TV show in every half hour. Commercial breaks used to be just long enough that if you anticipated when the commercial break was going to start and sprinted for the bathroom, you could pee and make it back just as the show came back on. Provided you didn’t wash your hands adequately. And maybe that’s originally why they thought commercial breaks should be a little longer: for hygiene’s sake. But it’s gotten out of hand now. You could pee in another state and be back long before your show returns.

Every commercial could be much shorter, thus shortening the break without removing precious advertisers and their dollars. Commercials are not the Silmarillion being directed by Peter Jackson. They do not need more than a few seconds to express their concepts. As a writer (See? Blog. I’m a writer.) I’m willing to lend my services to commercialists, expecting nothing in return except shorter commercial breaks.

Restaurants: We have food and you will have friends if you eat here.

Prescription drugs: This will fix what ails you, but do not take if you are prone to dying.

Beer, Burgers, Chips: Sex. Wait, what are we advertising?

(Candy is also starting to join this group, which is all kinds of disturbing. Do you really want to think of sex every time your kid asks for M&M’s?)

Instant coffee: We taste just like Starbucks…as far as you know. No refunds.

Shampoo, Soap, Lotion, Toothpaste: You will become obsessed with and unable to stop touching whatever part of your body you use our product on.

Makeup: YOU HAVE AN INSUFFICIENCY OF FACE! QUICK, PUT THIS ON BEFORE ANYBODY NOTICES!

Feminine Products, Toilet Paper: Are you eating right now? Too bad!

Vaporizers: We can’t tell you what we’re advertising, but see all this pretty SMOKE behind us? Enticing isn’t it? You’d DIE to have some, wouldn’t you? Sooner rather than later.

Clothing Stores: We sell clothes. You wear clothes daily. This is kind of a no-brainer.

Insurance: This one is a little more complicated. Their point is that you will save money if you switch to their company, even though every company claims this, creating a mobius strip of insurance companies that are all cheaper than the one before them.

TV Networks: Hey, have you ever seen this show you were watching before we interrupted it to advertise it to you? You should watch it! Right after this…

As Seen on TV products: Wouldn’t it be great if this thing worked? I mean…it does.

Airlines: We’re going to say we treat our customers well. We both know it’s a lie, but we also know you’re going to keep flying. See you at the holidays, sucker!

Credit Cards: We make money when you’re irresponsible! Here, have some matches!

Check-Cashing: For the sake of truth-in-advertising, we’re going to show you our employees kicking a poor person on the ground.

Used Cars: We’re going to be nails on a chalkboard until you buy a car.

New Cars: You know those places you don’t live and that construction job you don’t have? This car is great for that.

States/Countries (Tourism): We’re not as bad as you’ve heard.

Cruises: So luxurious, you’ll never even realize you’re on a stupid boat. (I don’t think boats are stupid, but cruise ship companies come across like they do)

Technical Colleges: Hey, we’re technically a college.

Online Degrees: I just got my medical degree entirely online and it only took me (looks at watch) twelve seconds. Of course, I double majored during my undergrad.

Sports: If you’re into this sport, you already know when the games are and if you’re not into this sport, you’re not listening anymore. So I can say whatever the heck I want and no one will notice. Spam is an acquired taste!

You’re welcome, world.

P.S. If I were to advertise my blog, I think it would go a little something like this:

I’m crazy! Please love me! Because…puppies!

Angry Awards

You ever have those days when you’re listening to Pandora and after disliking about 5 songs in a row, you start to realize that Pandora and its music selecting algorithm may not be the problem? I’m having one of those days. Everything annoys me. Happy people are so obnoxious, throwing their smiles in your face. Angry people are so obnoxious, trying to drag the rest of us down with them. I wish everyone would just leave me alone and I wish there was someone around I could pick a fight with. The only person around is my dog, so I’m left trying to pick a fight with her, which is always futile:

Dog: “I love you!”

Me: “So’s your face!”

Dog: “I don’t get it, but I love you even more for saying it to me.”

Me: “It’s an insult. I just insulted you.”

Dog: “I think it’s so great that you’re taking the time to talk to me. I love you SO MUCH!”

Me: “Look, I’m trying to pick a fight with you.”

Dog: “That sounds like fun! I’ll go first. I love you so much, I wish I could live inside your face!”

Me: “That’s not actually an insult. And it’s a little weird.”

Dog: “No it’s not. Hey, look! I did it! We’re fighting! This is so much fun! You always have the best ideas! I love you!”

Me: “I wish I had a cat.”

Dog: “GASP! You take that back right now!”

Me: “Oh, yeah? What if I don’t?”

Dog: “That’s okay. I already forgave you and now that we’ve been through this, I love you even more now than I ever did before.”

And that’s why you never hear about dogs getting into bar fights. I’ve never been in a bar fight either, but I like to think I could if I needed to.

You know what we need? Angry Awards. Not what you’re thinking, though. These would be awards for people who are angry, but still responsible and not taking it out on others. Because that is hard. Sometimes, it’s harder than landing on the Moon while conducting brain surgery and pretending you don’t know the words to the Taylor Swift song on the radio.

Picture it: You’re at work in a horrible mood, but still working. Your boss comes in and starts yelling at you for something that is obviously not your fault. You’re sitting there thinking about how unfair this is and how you just can’t handle it at that particular moment and given how you feel, you can’t see how anyone could possibly blame you if you stood up, picked up a file cabinet, and threw it out the window. But you don’t. You swallow back the bile, wait until your boss is finished, and apologize for the thing that is so clearly not your fault, thus allowing your boss to feel better. YOU DESERVE AN AWARD FOR THAT!

And I know where we can get some awards. Everyone’s all about recycling these days (something about Polar Bears trying to swallow ducks, but getting the plastic six-pack rings that was caught on the duck stuck in their teeth). So we could re-use other awards that are no longer useful for other people. For example, if you’ve ever won an Oscar, I know for a fact you aren’t reading this blog. If you’ve ever won two Oscars, that’s great because you can now have nice symmetry wherever you put them. But what about when you win three? You don’t need 3 Oscars. That’s borderline hoarding. Not to mention, people will start to wonder about you and your apparent obsession with collecting naked-man-statues. And so all those people who’ve won 3 or more Oscars could donate their statues to the Angry Awards.

Okay, according to Google, “People with 3 or more Oscars” is not as long a list as I thought it would be. Upside: some of those people on the list are dead, which means they don’t need any of their Oscars anymore. But we could also use old Grammys, CMA’s, People’s Choice Awards, and whatever else. The point is not what your award looks like, but that it is big and heavy enough that your boss won’t yell at you again for fear of being hit with it (Although that may be grounds for revoking your award).

I’m going to try starting another fight with my dog.

Running

People who are into running are always REALLY into running. When’s the last time you said to someone, “Oh, I didn’t know you ran.”? I’m guessing never. Because people who run can’t stop talking about it. If there’s a lull in the conversation, they bring it up. They post about it on facebook all the time. All their family and holiday photos appear to be at finish lines. My theory: they have to keep hyping it up because if they stop, they’ll realize what a miserable thing running is. Of course I only say that because I fall into the only other camp: people who are really into NOT running. Any day I don’t run is automatically a good day.

There is no middle ground. People either love or hate running. The only other option is to not have thought enough about running to love or hate it.

I am not built for running. I have body parts that get painfully jostled when I run (my insides included). You might be fooled by my hole-filled, threadbare sneakers. These are my sneakers:

These are my sneakers on drugs:

This photo had a disconcerting time-it-took-to-balance-shoes : joke ratio.  It’s disconcerting because of how funny I think this joke is.

They didn’t get like that from lots of running. They got like that because I hate buying new sneakers for a reason so secret, even I don’t know it. So I let my sneakers get really, really, really old before I replace them. It wouldn’t be such a problem if I didn’t wear such brightly colored socks that really emphasize the amount of holes in the sneakers.

Now imagine what these shoes would look like if I ran? They’d leave pieces of themselves behind everywhere I ran, like those bits of tire along the highway.

And runners are always injured. I would run to avoid injury; say, if a mountain were about to fall on me. But running to the point of getting injured? I don’t get it and I don’t think I ever will. It’s the same reason I don’t get drunk. As someone who gets migraines, I look at hungover people and think, “You did this on purpose? You paid good money to feel this way? Can I sell you my migraines? I’ll throw in a few allergy headaches free!”

What about the negative verbal connotations with running? The word “run” almost exclusively gets used in bad ways:

Run into trouble
Run errands (not fun errands. You don’t run baby shower shopping.)
Run to the bathroom
Run defense (as in someone’s getting attacked)
Run into things (like shin into metal bedframe. Not a happy run.)
Run a ponzie scheme
Get the run-around
Run for office

Clearly we have felt negative about running for so long that it has made its way into the vernacular.

But begrudgingly I have to say there are some good things about running (mostly because I can’t outrun all the people I made mad by bashing running)(like I said, they’re a PASSIONATE group).

Running is the Contol+Alt+Delete for dogs. When we go for a walk and my dog gets stuck in a barking loop, I know that I can get her unstuck by starting to run. Example:

Dog: “THERE’S A CAT OVER THERE! STUPID CAT! I HATE CATS! I’LL TEACH THAT CAT A LESSON! IT’S STILL THERE! STUPID CAT! I HATE CATS! I’LL TEACH THAT CAT A LESSON! IT’S STILL THERE! STUPID CAT! Oh, we’re running. But the cat is back there! STUPID CAT! I HATE…This is fun! Anyway, I hate…cats…this is great! We should always run! It’s like we’re playing chase, only we’re on the same team. This is the best day ever! I just hope we don’t see any cats while we’re out.”

Problem solved.

But by far the best thing about running is that I don’t have to do it. With all those marathons they have, I’d feel just awful if no one wanted to run them. Luckily there’s so many people who want to run them, they can not only charge money to let you run (and yet no one will buy my migraines?), but they have some marathons that are by invitation only. I don’t know where they get their list of people, but I refuse to buy protein shakes in case I accidentally end up on one of those invite lists. And thanks to all the runners, even if I did buy fancy sneakers and end up on a list, I’m sure I’d be really far down at the bottom of the list (somewhere between Cher and the guy who played Santa in the original Miracle on 34th Street (who I only beat out because I’m pretty sure he’s dead)).

If you’re grateful to not have to run a marathon, make sure you hug a runner next time you see one. If you can catch them.

Facebook Color Coding

Facebook is always coming up with improvements. Like that time when they changed the newsfeed to be even more random.

I think Facebook could benefit from some clarity. So I would like to suggest a color-coding system.  If Mark Zuckerberg wants to thank me by making me vice-billionaire, so be it.

Red: I’m going to bring up a politically-charged topic. Don’t let the casual way in which I post it — possibly including the phrase “Can anyone explain to me why…”– fool you. If you say anything that so much as implies anything less than 100% agreement, I will unleash the full force of my rage at you. This topic I’ve brought up on a public forum is NOT up for discussion.

Orange: I’m posting something purposefully confusing and vague. I won’t tell you what it means or why I’ve posted it. Don’t worry: you’re not supposed to get it. Just read it and be confused and my work here will be done.

Yellow: TMI. I’m about to launch into something you do NOT want to know about, especially if you are now eating. Or have ever eaten.

Green: This post doesn’t mean what you think it means (or possibly doesn’t mean what I think it means). I am going to make statements about big events, such as pregnancy or planning a wedding, that quite logically lead you to believe that I am pregnant or getting married. I may even post an outdated picture of myself pregnant or in a wedding dress, but will be caught completely off guard when you think I’m experiencing the things I am talking about.

Blue: This post is not about you. You are going to read it and think I am referring to you, but I am too smart to make obvious references to you someplace I know you will read. So if you are reading this post, you should know it’s not about you!

Purple: I’m in love. This post (as well as every post for the next 6 weeks) will make you vomit a little.

Black: I am no longer in love. Prepare for some major bridge burning.

White:

 

Grey: This post will make you think that my life is perfect. I may even use the phrase “My life is perfect!” Rest assured that what you are seeing are the parts I want to remember and not the parts I have started hypnotherapy to try to forget.

Pink: I’m bringing up a politically charged topic that I actually want to discuss this time. I’m confused by the lack of response.

Turquoise: I’m having a pity party, and you’re all invited!

Light Blue: I fell for this chain letter in the form of a meme. Prepare for a guilt trip followed by threats!

Light Red: I’m trying to find out more about a politically charged topic I just learned about. I’m asking questions I genuinely don’t know the answer to. Why isn’t anyone answering them?

Light Purple: I’m going to complain about people soliciting me, either with game invites or whatever they are selling. This is how you know I am about to start either gaming or selling things myself.

Dark Pink: I am just itching to get into a fight about politics. Maybe my adrenaline is running too high, but I just want to yell at someone about something, even if it’s over the internet. So I am baiting you with some broad sweeping statement I know many of my friends will disagree with, just so I can find someone to fight with.

You’re welcome, world. You’re welcome.

Drawing

I wish I could draw. Someday I would like to take drawing classes, although I don’t understand how those could possibly work.

First of all, how does drawing even work? Two people look at the same tree and draw it. The two pictures come out completely different:

Picture #1:                                                Picture #2:

      

Now, obviously one of these two artists got distracted from the tree. But the point still stands that they have similar eyes, similar motor functions, similar hands and similar pencils. So why is one person able to recreate the image with eerie reality while people like me have to constantly explain what they were drawing. (That black thing is a bird in a nest.) Nobody has to explain what Leonardo DaVinci was drawing. (“That’s a woman. See, this is her head and her shoulders. This is her mouth and these are her eyes. What do you mean ‘where are her eyebrows?’”)

Why is that? It doesn’t make sense to me.

Which leads me to how do drawing classes even work? How do you take someone who draws like I do and change things so that they draw not like I do?

Instructor: “Today we’re going to draw that tree. Go ahead. Okay, Veronica, now see what you’re doing wrong is you’re drawing that tree very badly. Try doing it again, but this time without sucking. No, remember what I just said. Stop sucking. Okay, can you at least draw it sucking a little less? No? Well, I’m going to have to ask you to stop attending my class until you are ready to take my advice and suck at drawing less.”

That’s how I see it going, anyway.

My favorite blog is Hyperbole and a Half. I love Allie Brosh’s drawing alot (Tee-hee!) She does a lot of bad drawing, but her bad drawing is secretly good drawing for 2 reasons: (1) It is clear what she is drawing. No explanation needed. I’ve never NOT had to explain one of my drawings. (2) It’s consistent. Every time she draws herself, she looks the same. You can recognize her figures. If I was to try and re-create the tree from up above, I’d be in big trouble. It would come out awful, but in a whole new way so that you’d think I was drawing a completely different unrecognizable tree. It would possibly look more like the Mona Lisa than a tree. (3)(You’re mis-remembering how many reasons I said I was giving.  That was almost a whole paragraph ago.) Her pictures evoke emotions.  They make me laugh SO HARD! (I may like her drawings a little too much, as a matter of fact.  But, hey, if you can’t be a creepy fan on the internet, where can you?)

I would love to be able to draw funny pictures to go along with my words, but my necessary explanations and inconsistency would keep it from being enjoyable for either one of us (me or the picture)(Who cares about you? This blog is about me. If you want a blog that cares about you, then you do not understand the blogosphere.)(And that is why my blog is ending here. You may need closure, but what I need is a cookie break. So the end.)