Na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na-Football!

Wow... I knew Ol' Miss would get its ass handed to it, but damn... I got home from work and showered, turned on the game at 10:30... 31-0. Snap. I read a rumor (via Miss Mandapants' blog) that I'd be invited to join a fantasy football league. I'm excited, but very afraid that Manda will kick my sorry behind. Seriously.

Eric got his job offer, so he officially has a job after Law School. Minnesota here we come. He's taking Hindi right now, so I'm ever so thrilled, waiting for when I'll wake up to him practicing. And really, Hindi? Even for him that's pretty random. My mom was like, "Isn't he at all interested in Chinese?" and apparently, the answer is no. While it might be practical to learn to talk to your own relatives, my husband would rather throw a dart at the list of language classes and see what comes up.

Gotta go. Champange time.

~Katie

Designer Dogs = Mutts, You Moron

Ok, I am SO SICK of this whole designer dog bullshit. Somebody comes through my line at Petsmart, and they have a cute little dog, so I ask what it is and get something like, "Oh, its a peek-a-poo/puggle-poo/labradoodle/magical pixie dog". THE DOG IS A MUTT. Get over yourself. Not only that, but its a mutt you paid anywhere from $800-$1500 for. How do you sleep at night? Ok, let me restart.

There used to be mutt people and purebred people. Purebred people only bought dogs from breeders; they claimed you knew what the dog looked like, what to expect personality and health wise, etc. Then there were mutt people. Mutt people looked at the inbred, overbred dog population, and instead went to the SPCA or the pound, got an adorable little part whatever and SAVED ITS LIFE. Their arguments for the superiority of their choice involved rational arguemnts (a dog with mixed ancestory has a better chance against genetic diseased than a purebred) and slightly less fact-based, hopeful and emotional arguments (a mutt would get the best of both breeds). The designer dog movement takes those arguements from the mutt people, BREEDS MORE DOGS, and then attatchs an outrageous price tag to the little puppies. It dupes stupid people who have more money than ability to do research.

There is one reason a person should buy a purbred; love of the breed. If that person really loves the breed and wants to strive for a better, healthier future for that breed, then they can responsibly breed their own. Money should never be the reason behind breeding dogs, and that's the only reason behind the designer dog movement.

Please, if you want a dog, go to an animal shelter. If you really want a purebred, do like Amanda's very smart and responsible parents when they wanted a basset hound: find a local breed rescue and save a dog. But please: Don't breed or buy while shelter pets die.

And remember: the promises behind that cock-a-poo are a crock-of-shit.

~ Katie

Do Dreams Mean Anything?

So I had a dream last night. I dreamed that I got a tattoo. It was a thin band that went right over my eyebrows, dipped a bit in the middle, and had a small pentacle hanging in middle. Like a tattooed version of a priestesses headband. It was gorgeous and I loved it, but I worried about how obvious it was. I realized I could cover it up with makeup, or get my bangs back (they've grown out since that picture of me), but I never did it in the dream. And I talked to most of the people I know. Amanda and Eric were fine, my mom thought it was ridiculous, and my dad freaked out. Eric's dad did the whole, "I'm uncomfortable but I'm not going to say that outright" thing that he does. I woke up before meeting with my grandparents.

So I wonder if this dream is about how I treat my religion. I don't hide it per se, but I'm not usually too open about it. The reactions of the people in my dream to my tattoo were very similar to the reactions they had in real life to my religion. So what does this all mean? Should I be more outspoken? Should I talk with my loved ones (and Eric's parents apparently) about it more? I don't know. It does, however, really make me want to get a tattoo. Just not on my face.

~ Katie

Cleaning time

Ok, I've procrastinated long enough. Eric gets back next week, and I want the house to be clean, so here we go. Cleaning time. Cleeeeeeaaaaaning.

Any second now. No more putting it off. I'm just gonna get up and start. Now. Now? Now....

Nope. Sigh. Still procrastinating. Even this post is something to do other than clean. But its got to be done.

Ok, so I'm gonna run some errands. Then cleaning. Sounds good.

I am ready for some Football!!!

Ah, words I thought I'd never say. But, thanks to my lovely former roommate but still best friend Manda, I have learned to love the game. Not as much as her, cause, lets be real here, I can only watch ESPN for so long, but still, I like it a lot. If nothing else it gives me an excuse to knit for three lovely hours.

So not much else. Still waiting for Berroco to realize they need to post more corrections in the Norah Gaughan book; I may have to break down and call them. Oh, and I'm reading this book Unmasked. Its an erotic phantom of the opera story. So far, totally worth my time and money. Although I still want to slap Christine a little. And my hatred of Raoul has never been stronger. But what can I say, I'd let the phantom kidnap me any day. Mmmmm...

Woah. Sorry. Got a little distracted there. So I still need to figure out what the heck I'm going to blog about. You know, give this site a little direction. I could do my picks for veggie recipies, or knitting, or books... right now, I think it'll just be a little bit of whatever strikes my fancy.

And that brings us back to football. And speaking of erotica... I'm remembering another reason I like football so much. Tight pants over hot athletic bodies. Oh yeah. Football season, make me forget my troubles.

I'm back

Alright, so a year without a post is a bit much. But I promise to be better. Cross my heart.