Nothing of Note

I am soooo boring. (Don't you love when I hook you guys with opening lines like that? I imagine every Catholic school English teacher I ever had telling me to knock it off. (Hi, Mr. (redacted)!) (I imagined him with a google alert on his name, because he wrote a novel, and there's probably fiction about high school girls dating him out there, and that'd be embarrassing.))

(Oh! Aside! Bartender at the LSU bar when I was watching the also boring LSU/NSU game a few weeks ago, I ordered a drink and said "please" and "thank you", told me I was incredibly polite. I told him it was because of all the years of Catholic school but really it's the uptight mother who values our manners like whoa. Which is a good thing. I value them too.) (See! I'm not THAT boring. I was at a bar! With people! So cool!) (And now I'm really just fucking with you with the parentheticals. Cuz I am that bored.)

Anyway, not much going on in my world. Job searching sucks my soul. Do you know what I, J.D. holder, am qualified to do? Absolutely nothing! *insane laughter* No, seriously. They taught us NOTHING practical in law school, for which I curse them regularly, and I didn't do enough internships because I am a lazy slacker asshole and now I'm completely unemployable. SO. AWESOME! Guh. My law school sent out an email recently asking "Do you know anyone thinking about law school? Send 'em our way!" To which my classmates and I unanimously, across the internet went, "BUAHAHAHAHAHA. No." One of my favorite bar conversations lately is when people say, "I was thinking of law school!" I respond that in a lifetime of bad decisions that was easily the worst. Seriously. THE. WORST. Unless you have the grades to get into a Top 25 law school: DO NOT GO. I know, I sound bitter and insane and maybe in five years when I'm making money and my student loans are a minor afterthought and every job isn't in insurance, I'll tell you it's a fantastic idea. But for now? No. (Sorry, I know this applies to some of you and I know you'll follow your dreams and be content and I wish you all the luck in the world if you do go. But please don't. Do something else, ANYTHING else, instead.)

Other than that: I got a puppy and that's taking up a ton of my time. Somehow she has become my dog. My mom keeps referring to me as her mom. I never envisioned myself as a little dog person. I scoffed at people who owned ten pound dogs and referred to them as dogs. We've owned a husky, a golden retriever, an American Bulldog and pitbulls over the course of my life. The smallest dog we've ever owned is the one we have now and he's still a good 35 pounds. And yet I have a pocket sized dog. I'd throw a picture of her in here but she's a dark brindle and since the only camera I ever use is my crappy cell phone one, she just looks like a dark splotch. She's incredibly cute and her name is Maya. Her name was Zoe but we previously had a dog named that so it wasn't gonna fly. She's ten pounds and has an under bite and she is currently asleep ON the kitchen table between my arms as I'm typing. It takes all my will power not to buy her LSU clothes but I will be damned if I dress this dog. I'm thisclose to crazy dog person. It's not gonna be a big leap, either.

The first step in my ownership journey was that I named her. Do you want to know how I got to Maya? Do you!? This is how my brain works: she's a chihuahua/terrier mix. Chihuahua is a state in Mexico. The Mayans were also inhabitants of Mexico (though I realize not the same state). If you take off the n... Yep. That is how I named my ten pound nothing dog.

And now we're having a battle of the wills in the training her to go pee outside. The family that previously owned her have her mat trained. Which is great. She doesn't pee on the carpet. She also doesn't pee outside. Well, she does, just not ALL the time. I was whining to my mother the other day that I can't get anything done. By the time I walk the big dog and make sure the little dog gets some exercise, the day is half over. It's ridiculous. My mom says, "It's like having a baby!" "Yes. But I'm the one who never ever wanted a baby!" Do you think this is my mother's master plan to get me to change my mind on children? I doubt she's thinking that far ahead and if she was, this experience would not have had the desired effect but the opposite. I also think this is my mother's grand master plan to make sure I never move out. My dad today said, "You should move to my house." Well now I can't! Because the dog! Will someone come kick my ass out of neutral? Please? I'm begging you. It's necessary. (But do it gently because I bite back.)

The big dog is also being a clingy needy asshole because of the introduction of the little dog's adorableness and that is SO annoying. I get not wanting to be displaced (apparently when I was 13 months old and they brought my brother home, the first thing I did was slap him. I also got a shirt 3 Christmas's ago that declares "Not Mom's Favorite" so...) but seriously dude, you're 35 pounds, you can not climb up on to me.

The little dog also ate the power cord on my Mac while I was at the gym the other night.

It's been a fun couple of weeks. Which explains why I get stupid drunk and all escapist on football days. Huh.

And I just spent more words on my dogs than anyone likely cares about. Think we've solidified the crazy dog person thing. Gonna go do something not dog related now... Like look for more jobs.

Is it football day yet?