The Real America

We have a friend from Austria who likes to discover what he calls “the real America.” In his opinion, the “real America” can be found in things such as zubaz pants, ranch dressing, everything in Virginia Beach, giant-sized portions, people who will their fortunes to their cats, and other various and sundry pieces of ridiculousness.

While I often contended that we do not hold the only patent on insanity here in the US (see Hitler, Adolf and Tudors, All of Them) I saw something on television today that forces me to wave the white flag of nutso surrender.

Today, while watching the fine program Dr. 90210, I saw the following things occur in the space of 10 minutes:
1. A man had surgery to make his scrotum more attractive for the sexin’.
2. A woman (scrotum man’s girlfriend) had surgery to make her girl parts more evened out and attractive.
3. A family’s dog died and they had a dog funeral for their chihuahua. The dog funeral was complete with embalming of the dog, a pink casket lined in velvet, an open-casket viewing attended by two people at a dog funeral parlor complete with artwork, hysterical sobbing, many arrangements of flowers, music, and finally, a graveside service complete with eulogy.*

I know this show is taped in Beverly Hills and may not be indicative of how most of us roll. However, I beg of everyone to consider the possiblity that a non-American will bear witness to these events as evidence that we are too busy surgically rearranging our lady business and sitting shiva for our pets to fend off a hostile takeover. Canada might get ideas, people.

*It was incredible sad when the family’s dog unexpectedly died and I cried. Everyone processes grief in ways that make sense to them, and this was how this particular family chose to remember their pet. I love our pooch dearly, and have no idea how I will deal with the sad day when we have to say goodbye…but I still think a full-on viewing/funeral is slightly too close to totally excessive and possibly nuts.

What are you thankful for?

I am obviously thankful for the correct stuff, like my amazing family, awesome dog, good health, prosperity, the breakup of Spederline, awesome hair, and the impending removal of Rick Santorum from office.

BORING!

Here are a few non-boring choices that need to be praised to the high heavens:

1. Kiehl’s Lip Balm. It’s magical stuff. If you put it on your kisser before you go to bed, you will wake up eight hours later and find that it is so potent that it has not all dissolved. It also works for taming flyaway hairs, soothing post-drinking binge undereye luggage , and curing cancer.

2. Aveda Pure Abundance Hair Potion. Too bad Virginia just outlawed non-traditional unions, because I would totally marry this. (It’s also known in our house as Kristin’s Magical Hair Dust.) If you have short or medium-length hair, just buy it without looking at the price. You can also try to scam a free sample out of your hairdresser like I did. (I should have learned from my crack addiction that the first hit is always free.) One tiny bottle will last for a very long time, and it will make your hair do all the things you want it to do without having to shellack it with hairspray. Since I cut off all my hair, this stuff has been nothing short of miraculous. My hairdresser put it on a polio victim the other day and she stood up and started walking for the first time in thirty years.

3. Meal Makers - Because even though it causes me endless guilt, we are the kind of people I never thought we would be – we have people come clean our house and put our meals together for us. Meal Makers rocks the double vision house with their tasty menus, reasonable prices, and accommodating staff. Try them and be like us.

4. The Adjustable Harada-Ito procedure - This was part of my fifth and most recent eye surgery. In non-doctor terms, my surgeon/superhero detached one of my eye muscles, split it in half, and reattached it via permanent stitches in places that allows for greater muscular control and decreased double vision. (Stop gagging and cringing.)

5. Woolrich Dog Coats – My dog got one last Christmas from one of her aunts. We put it on and she prances around the house like a cuter, bearded Giselle Bundchen, and then runs to the door waiting for her next adventure. The cuteness is hard to bear. However, unlike the product that I linked to, she is by no means an XS.

Christmas is coming…

…so it’s time to torture our dog for our annual Christmas card.

Here’s what we’ve done in the past. I am looking for suggestions for this year’s masterpiece. We have both coats for the dog to wear and a Darth Vader Costume as possibilites.

This week’s OnNotice

Do you sing songs to your pets?

Someone who is a giant asshole sent me an email yesterday telling me the fact that I sing songs to and about my dog makes me weird. I responded by emailing this person back and saying that singing songs to a pet is not even in the top 100 of things that make me weird.

I am not ashamed in any way, butI am curious to know if other pet owners do this. If so, do you make up songs from scratch or just change the words to real songs? We fall into the latter category, and no matter what my husband will post on here and tell you, he sings them too.

Some of our greatest hits:

“C-bear is the Champion”
“Good Day, Rawhide.”
“Calliebear on the Run”
“Wish I had Cheese”
“Callie, You’re a Fine Girl”
“C Will Rock You”
“Head-Scratching, Telling No Lies”

And finally, I leave you with the potty cheer, that goes a little something like this:

P-O-T-T-Y. YOU AIN’T GOT NO ALIBI. GO POTTY. HEY HEY GO POTTY.

Laugh all you want, but if it’s freezing cold outside and you need your dog to shit so you don’t freeze to death, it works.

Thursday Randomness

For the most part, I am not a touchy-feely, huggy sort of person. I do not like people invading my personal space, because around me there is an invisible circle, and unless you are married to me or related to me, or are my dog, YOU DO NOT INVADE THE CIRCLE WITHOUT AN INVITATION. Invasion of the circle is not something I am equipped to handle. Today, when a client ended our meeting by crying and hugging me, while saying thank you for all you have done for our family, I could hardly stand it. I know it’s oh so very Yankee of me, but I am a huge proponent of the firm handshake.

Due to my eye problems, I can justify seeing about two-three movies per year. Yes to one or more of the following questions results in my attendance. Otherwise, eh.
1. Is it written by Christopher Guest?
2. Is Johnny Depp in it for at least two minutes?
3. If Johnny Depp is in the movie for less than two minutes, is he naked?
So imagine my disgust when Richmond was not selected as one of the “select cities” for the opening of For Your Consideration.

My husband has done nothing but make me laugh like an insane woman in the two minutes I have seen him this week and for this I love him. I also love he because when I told him the five year anniversary gift is WOOD, his response was “but I try to give you that all the time.”

And finally, does anyone out there have a clue as to what is going in in O.J. Simpson’s addled brain?

And where were you when you heard the OJ verdict?

The Great Unifier: Grey’s Anatomy

My father-in-law is a “man’s man.”

He chops his own firewood, changes his own oil, enjoys all forms of red meat, and voluntarily leaves air-conditioning and indoor plumbing to sleep outdoors on the ground. He’s some sort of “engineer” for an “aerospace company”, but we know he’s really a spy.

FIL and I usually get along just fine, even though we have little in common. We’ve had our moments of disagreement, especially when it comes to having children, butI think we both are now just plain entertained by being around someone so diametrically opposite. Unless I bring up my love of all things CNN, which brings about a diatribe on “liberal bias” in the media. After all, “Fox News is fair and balanced.” Ergh.

But this weekend, when we visited for MIL’s birthday, we found true common ground. After MIL got my input in the important and earth-transforming “Who is the hottest man on Grey’s Anatomy” debate,** she and I moved on to other conversations, such as why the Redskins are currently ruining my husband’s life, and which one of us wanted to smother the relatives Pomeranian that they were dog-sitting.*

Ten minutes later, after a period of silence, FIL pipes up from the back of the living room “WAIT A MINUTE. You mean to tell me there’s a McDreamy and a McSteamy? What the hell? How did I not know this?”

Who knew semi-trashy ABC drama was the great uniter?

*McSteamy is the definitive answer to this debate.
**I don’t actually advocate the smothering of any dog. I love dogs, just not when they bug and irritate my dog to the point that she has to constantly poop from all the stress.

Short Pump speed trap?

Is there some sort of shakedown going on in Short Pump this evening? As I entered the bookstore parking lot, I noticed about five-seven motorcycle cops pulling people over. When I emerged from the bookstore after a hour of reading about the demise of Spederline, they were still there pulling people over.

I am all for the enforced ticketing of Pumpholes in their giant Hummers, but I wonder what it’s all about.

And in my opinion, all motorcycle cops should be Erik Estrada. Otherwise, they just look silly.

Richmond’s gang problem solved?

I saw the following announcement on the Richmond.com calendar of events. It’s good to see that at least if we have to have a gang problem, we have the kind of gangs who put together museum events.

It’s a beautiful day…don’t let it slip away…

Dear Democrats,

It’s time to actually do something. No more excuses allowed.

Don’t screw this up.

Love,
Me

P.S. Pennsylvania, I love you and your booting of Rick Santorum more than I can express in mere words. Way to go, home state!