the first time we met, you were a kennel maid...
04.22.04 @ 11:22 p.m.
Oooh, what the fuck? Something, possibly the inhalation of nail polish remover fumes (not on purpose, just trying to remove the EZ-Chip color change nail polish I put on two days ago) is giving me bizarre lung-pains. (Note: Color change nail polish doesn't really work when your circulation is pathetic. It just stays on the 'cold' color all the time unless you've just stepped out of the shower or are doing the dishes.)
Now that I went to the trouble of writing all that, they've stopped. Hurrah.
My dog gave birth on Tuesday. My parents neglected to tell me until last night when I called to wish my dad a happy birthday. (Did I mention that I kick serious ass? I made an amazing illustration of Robert Johnson for my dad for his birthday. I finally made something with my watercolor crayons that doesn't look like crap! I'll scan it tomorrow, along with all my Keith Moon magazine pages.) She had, get this, seven puppies. Seven. I was guessing maybe four. But maybe my mental image of how big baby puppies are is a lot bigger than how big a puppy actually is if she had SEVEN in there. Martha's reaction was "Good, now she can finally lie down." Heh. Six boys and one girl, and Dad tells me to come up with a litter theme. He's thinking rock stars. I'm wondering if I can pull six Who song names, since our major Shepherd success has a Monkees song name. (I'm also told that the breeder tradition of horrible puns in names is continued in the spawn of I'm A Believer (Billy). All the names in his litter incorporate the word "believe." Oh man, how cool would it have been if the lady had been on the ball enough to name one "I Believe In a Thing Called Love"?) I know I can call one of the dogs "Baba O'Riley." But I'm also considering other ideas.
Don't criticize my ideas for being tacky if you don't know how generally stupid the unwritten rules of purebred dog naming are. My choices are actually somewhat classy.
I really want to buy some new guitar picks because the light pick I normally use is about a song away from snapping again. (The first time it broke I trimmed it down into a mini-pick because I only have two light picks and Ena gets all sad at the idea that I would use the one she bought me and thereby wear off the lettering that announces that it's from a shop in London.) However, I don't have a lot of access to instrument shops (I suppose I could find out where they are in this town). But I don't really think I need a full dozen, which is what you get if you order from Musician's Friend. Eh. I'll see if I can get a parent to stop by Portland Music sometime this weekend.
I'm going back to Portland for the second week in a row (I don't think I've ever done that) to see the puppies and go to the Ceramics Showcase in Portland. It's my intent to take pictures of adorable puppies with my dad's camcorder and my laptop.
This is all really boring, and if it weren't for wanting to announce the pups I probably wouldn't have written anything. So I'll go try to do as much of my Italian workbook homework as I can before I start falling asleep.
[Title: Lyric from "Dogs" by the Who]
Previously
fuck it @ 08.01.05
fanciful imaginary sea voyages to come @ 07.20.05
*dies* @ 07.19.05
more ootp @ 07.17.05
harry potter: driving our children into devil worship @ 07.17.05
