Cover of the Rolling Stone

I got called to work at my very part time job today, so a video post:


Good Boy, Gonzo. You always did like Dr. Hook.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

The Battle for Supreme Power!

Gonzo has always had the odd habit of sometimes sitting like a person would on the sofa. 9 times out of 10, he does it with people there on the sofa with him. It's like he's thinking,"Oh, is this what we're doing now? Okay, catch me!" and he turns around and sort of throws himself backward. He ends up on his tail end, sort of sitting upright, leaning against whoever's next to him. He has also been known to do this when no one's around to sit with, and one could walk in the room to find Gonzo sitting upright, watching CNN (quite disturbing.)

As I have mentioned before, our boy is a pack dog, and believes my husband to be the Alpha dog of our pack. Well, let me tell you, these two boys can play-fight up a royal storm. When they're on the floor, it's no-holds-barred, full-on knock-down, drag-out battle for Top Dog. (That sentence is a hyphen-o-rama!) Of course, Top Dog is not a position I desire, so I let them have at it. However, when our boy and my husband go to town on the sofa, I 'm in Gonzo's corner 100%.

So at night, the 3 of us will be watching t.v. together on the sofa, and they will start to play-fight. Gonzo will lean against me, sort of upright, and either my husband will start or Gonzo will often times "slap" my husband's hands with his paws, and then hold his paws up in a kind of (sad) defensive maneuver. I call it the ''jazz paws" defense. My husband will try to poke Gonzo's body, with Gonzo play snapping and growling. He sounds terribly vicious, our boy, the tough guy. I will coach Gonzo, "Bite 'em, Gonzo! Jazz Paws! Jazz Paws!Get 'em, Get 'em, Get 'em!" Alas, after a long 10 round bout, my husband wins again, and Gonzo curls up against the victor, after getting a drink from his water bowl. (That's usually the signal that Gonzo's given up.)

Good Boy, Gonzo. Live to play fight another day.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Seems to be something missing...

Can't quite put my finger on it...wait, I think I know what it is...I don't have to try to find a job today! I mean, I didn't spend every waking minute trying before, but I did spend quite a bit. So now I am a little freer, as I don't have to worry that someone might be calling with yet another 5 minute phone interview. (Seriously, what are those all about? There's no way anyone could get the sense of anyone else in 5 minutes.) I did have one company have me submit a resume, fill out an application, submit that EOE questionnaire, call twice for phone interviews, then come in for a face-to-face interview (and fill out a second application.) I am still waiting to hear from them what the next step is. Probably put my resume in, take my expectations out, put my references in, and shake it all about... "You do the job search pokey and you turn yourself around...that's what it's all about!" Sorry, couldn't resist. If I was applying to be the nanny of the First Children, I can't imagine it would be so hard.

Gonzo the ever-vigilant guard puppy:

It is Gonzo's self appointed duty to keep intruders at bay, whether it be my parents, friends, or any company for that matter, but especially the mail lady. I have a theory why our boy barks at the mail lady through the door. I think he hears her open the screen door to put the mail inside, and she walks away. But that's not how he interprets what happens.
See, to our boy, he hears threat approach. Threat tries to break down the door with all its might (by opening the screen door). Gonzo yells at threat," Hey! Hey! Whattda think you're doing? Get away from the door! I told you yesterday, you're not getting in!" Threat is so intimidated by this impressive display that threat slinks off, to try its luck elsewhere. (Or continue delivering the mail.) Gonzo makes a mental note that barking at threats make them go away. Whoofing a few times quietly to himself is his way of saying," That's right, and stay away!" Then he saunters over to me, stretching out his legs, and I imagine he's saying," It's all right, little lady, they won't be back a-bothering you any time soon." (Sometimes our boy channels John Wayne.) Of course, he's probably thinking,"Hey, is there any chance I could get a treat for that?"

Good boy, Gonzo. Save me from the credit card bills.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Oh, happy day!

My mom called me yesterday from the road, to let me know that they were surprisingly close to schedule, and would be arriving in under a hour. I told her, "I'll start the brown rice now. Just come to the house that has the person with a job inside." That's right, I am starting my new job in September.

Well, it was bound to happen sooner or later. You get your resume updated and in order, scan the internet job posting sites, apply, apply, apply...and you get the interview. You find a nice suit, do research on the company, and give a stellar interview. Then you wait. Wait. Wait. Then it happens:

You get the call. "Ms. Frigglesnitz, this is Linda from the Job-you-wanted Company. Are you still available for the position? You are? I am calling to offer you the job." Oh, happy dance of joy! If I were Gonzo, I would be tearing through the house, barrel-racing style, with the dead duck toy in my mouth. (Thank God I get to celebrate in other ways. Like going out to eat or something.)

And it's not the one with the weird hours, or the one where I'd work weekends, but a regular 8-4 M-F kind of job. Even though its pay is significantly lower than what I was making, it is about 20-25 hours less a week. (I was salary before, and I worked loooong days.) So the hourly rate is actually much higher. And a lot higher than unemployment.

But what about Gonzo?:
I am actually a little concerned that he's not going to take this well. I have been home since January, so he's gotten used to me being here a lot more. Well, he was okay when I went back to take those computer courses, but I have been home most days for over a month now. He is a pack dog and he likes his pack right where he can see them. That's a funny thing at bedtime when the one of us goes up and the other doesn't. He doesn't know whether to fish or cut bait. So he usually makes sure the one who went up is going to stay put, then comes back down for the other one.

Good boy, Gonzo. I'll be right here where you can see me (for a while.)

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Early bird post today

My parents are stopping by today. They are both in their 70's, are the epitome of the "young at heart." My father roller blades. He ice boats (where they go shooting across the ice on a giant skate with a sail attached.) He rides a Goldwing. He sails his sailboat solo. He roller- and ice- skates. If it's an activity (emphasis on the "active",) sign him up. My mom has a thousand and one projects she is working one at any given time. Right now, she's recovering from cataract surgery, her second eye done, so her activities have been just slightly hampered. My sister and I discussed the possibility of getting her a plush parrot to go with her eye patch, but decided we would find that way funnier then she would.
But I have to clean my house to "company specs." You all know what I mean, right? There's good enough for everyday, but then you have the "company-ready" details. All the sofa cushions straightened, the trash cans all emptied, and Gonzo's least favorite, our boy gets a bath.


Now Gonzo will tolerate most anything you want to do to him, (i.e. look in his ears, clean his teeth, pedicure his nails, give him medicine) but his least favorite is the bath. I think he has a water phobia or something as well. He stands in the tub, looking pitiful until it's over, then he gets the ever-loving rubdown with the towels (he loves that part) then it's off to find my husband to show him what a mean trick I just played on him. Again! Of course, my husband is at work today, so he doesn't even get to do that this time.

Good boy, Gonzo. You'll be dry and rolling in the sweet grass in no time.

More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Let's de-stress, now, shall we?

I am going to think happy thoughts of fluffy kittens and happy, flitting butterflies. I am not going to stress myself out about this interview today.


Happy pictures:



My father's sailboat at the family camp:


Can you believe I got to go here every summer as a kid? Spent my honeymoon and a few vacations as an adult here, too, but it's so far away from where I live now.


Emma, after losing a snowball fight with the balcony railing:



I took this through the screen door. After the snow fell on her head, she threw herself on the door with a bang, and I couldn't resist capturing her owl-head dismay.

A wave breaking on the pier at Barnegat Light:

Took this on vacation several years ago. Hard to time random waves, so my digital camera had quite a few "fails" before I got the spray just the way I wanted it.





Ah, now, that's better. Breathe in, breathe out, and relax.



Gonzo's taking my advice to heart. He's so relaxed, he's out cold under the dining room table. Good boy, Gonzo, take it easy today.



More to come, so come back if you're interested.

Tomorrow's a big day

Tomorrow. A face-to-face interview. I found a new suit, new blouse, and a pair of shoes for a very good price. (Thank God for the outlets!) My resume is updated, and on linen paper. I am ready for this. Do you think the will smell the desperation? I think I will be okay, as long as I can show up on time without being covered in dog hair. I also have a phone interview that most likely will turn into another face-to-face later this week. Currently, I am waiting to hear from two others that I have interviewed with last month. Something will come along soon. I know it. Right?


A picture of Gonzo:



Another one:




For some reason I can't directly post pictures here. The picture adder thingie is showing me a error message . Hope I figure it out soon. (Figured it out, 8:00pm)

Good Boy, Gonzo.

Doesn't he look like he's laughing? My over-imaginative mind thinks so.


More to come, so come back if you're interested.