Random Esquire

I admit to eating those Fla-vor Ice things - those foot long frozen sticks of sugar water that are something like twelve for a dollar. Boss gives me a look every time I eat one. For the record, women have about a hundred looks and all but one of them means, “Stop what you’re doing right now.” This is because every time I eat a Fla-vor Ice, I choke and cough. There’s something in them that irritates my throat. I brought some in our cooler to the movie in the park one time and when I pulled one out, she almost hit it out of my hand.

Little Filthy was smelling like a corn chip so he got a bath today. Now he’s puppy chow fresh again. He’s curled up in the crook of Boss’s legs. I just reached over and put my cold Fla-vor Ice hand on his stomach and his eyes shot open…and then he lifted his leg and demanded a tummy rub. He’s forgiving; I’ll give him that.

Boss got a new laptop. If it had an income, I might be replaced.

I walked into the bathroom and Little Filthy followed me. He does that sometimes. Especially since we had just gotten home from dinner and he was excited to see us. I was washing my hands and he was bumping my legs, wanting attention and I looked down at him and said, “You’re pretty cute. How’d you get so cute?” Boss was just outside the bathroom door and overheard me and so she said, “Curves.” I said, “What?” She said, “Curves!” I opened the door and said to her, “He goes to Curves?” thinking it was rather clever and imaginative of her to say that Little Filthy got buff from an all girl gym.

She said, “No, I said Pervs. You guys are PERVS.”

ohh.

See, that’s what happens when you disappear into the bathroom with your dog.

1. Boss got a new haircut last weekend. It almost looks like she got a new head. I hardly recognize her. This prompted me to yell, “stranger danger!” whenever I saw her. That got old fast. For Boss.

2. I want more space. Little Filthy is getting older and wants some privacy. This means more bedrooms. He’d also like a backyard for himself as opposed to the strips of grass alongside the sidewalks. A full bath as opposed to the half he has now.

3. Boss’s mother has a boyfriend. What’s that make him…well, I guess my mother-in-law’s boyfriend. I was hoping for something more clever but I do what I can. His nickname is Chicken Shawarma. This is because before I met him, Boss and her mother were both playfully mocking how excited he gets when he makes chicken shawarma by saying over and over, in a nasal tone, “Chicken shawarma! Chicken shawarma!” I won’t bother to tell you how this influences one’s first impressions of a person. Anyway, one day last week, I did something reminiscent of him and Boss said, “Oh my god, I’m dating Chicken Shawarma!” I said, “I’m not like Chicken Shawarma!” To which she replied, “No,…you’re not. Chicken Shawarma is nicer.” I said, “Agree. But I am funnier.” I took her silence as agreement.

We took Little Filthy to the beach. The first thing he did was leap on someone’s beach towel and football tackle the beach bag on it, rubbing himself all over it. We shoo’d him away immediately…so he left that blanket and went to another. Where he lifted his leg and relieved himself upon it.

*sigh*

I heard Boss almost come unglued as she ran for him.

After some swimming…

…he trudged his sandy, wet filthy self to another beach towel. A bikini clad woman was on this towel. Little Filthy…shook all over her. She screamed. I said, “Sorry! He’s a MONSTER!”

Then home for a bath and he is passed out, sleeping in the crook made by a set of Boss legs on the couch.

It was an eventful day. I got evacuated from my train station only to come up from underground and find phone messages from about five different people wondering if I was okay.

Well, not so much eventful as just having one major event.

Boss hates riding the train. She must have Purel to endure a trip. Also, she has to sit facing in the direction she is traveling. So, if we sit in seats with our back to the outside of the train, facing the center, she will actually turn her head to the side to face in the direction of travel. This is disconcerting if I am sitting in that direction as she appears to be staring at me the entire time. She also can not read on any moving vehicle. Also, no one weird must be near us. I think that sums up her train rules.

Needless to say, a derailment is against her rules.

Friday Night

Packed blanket, popcorn, soda and went to a movie in the park.

Saturday

Boss and I went to the Field Museum since Boss had some classwork that centered around some exhibits there. What exhibit did we look at? The Grainger Hall of Gems. Yes. Even at museums, if Boss isn’t looking at jewelry, then she is looking at potential jewelry. Then we walked along the lake shore up to Navy Pier. Then home for a spaghetti dinner before heading out to see a new musical in town - The Big Bang.

Sunday

We took Little Filthy to the beach. He didn’t get a haircut this time. Then home to relax.

Future Events

Thursday, we’ll be heading out to the former Miegs Field, now Charter One Pavilion on Northerly Island to see Fiona Apple and Damien Rice.

Then on Saturday, we are heading out to watch the opening ceremony of the Gay Games. We hope to meet up with Shim and The Russian there. I told a co-worker we were going and he asked if the teams were from different countries. I paused and realized I have no idea.

I just looked at the website and…Billiards is a sport. So is Darts. *blink* The world needs to be more accepting so the gays can leave the bars.

I wonder how many wishful men will show up to watch two lesbians in the wresting competition. Then there’s DanceSport. Probably a heated, close battle for the men whereas they will simply award medals to the first three lesbians who show up not wearing cell phones on their hip.

I believe I will have much to write about after Saturday.

I bring home the bacon. I pay the bills. I do the driving. I even do the cooking.

But I do not, will not, kill bugs.

I do not know why bugs, in particular, make me want to dance on my tip toes. I am not afraid to admit that if I see a bug, I will hollar for Boss and jump up and down until she has taken care of the situation. She can actually cover a bug with a kleenex and squeeze it dead and throw it in the trash. All without screaming. She is an amazing woman, no?

What is particularly interesting about this is that it is one of the few times when I have absolutely no interest in maintaining anything close to a tight grip on reality. What makes that so interesting is that I used to kill bugs when I lived alone. I just…did it. Is this what happens when you date someone? They pick up the slack in those areas where you would just honestly prefer a meltdown of sorts? Because, I think if I’m being completely honest with myself, I don’t even care that it makes me sound wussy.

Hmm. I just reread this. Maybe I care a little that it makes me sound wussy.

1. I was changing my neice’s diaper and sprinkled a little bit of baby powder on her. My sister said that I was “salt and peppering the baby.” is it just me, or does that sound horrible? I told her that it sounded like I was seasoning the baby.

2. We went to a Ribfest this weekend. This was basically torture for Boss. Let me outline some of the rasons why this is:

a) It was outside. Boss does not like the outdoors.
b) People outside in the summer sweat. Boss does not like sweat.
c) People eating ribs often lick their fingers. No one looks good licking their fingers. Also, it isn’t clean. This is a double whammy for Boss.
d) Someone stuck their finger on the end of one of the barbeque sauce ’spigots’ and tasted it off their finger. She almost screamed.
e) A pervy old man surprised her with her hands full and stuck a round sticker on her chest that said, “Lick My Ribs.”

She relayed all of these things to me and upon seeing the look on my face (I had just shelled out $50 for the afternoon) said, “But at least we went!”

3. I might be addicted to Family Guy. I want Quagmire as my ringer so that when Boss calls me, my phone says, “Giggity, Giggity, Gig-ah-Ty!” I would probably never do this but I like the idea of it. Her ringer now plays The Odd Couple.

We took Little Filthy to the beach yesterday. Another pug promptly mounted him. I sighed and pulled them apart. Of course, then Little Filthy wanted to know what that was all about. I told him that sometimes dogs do that. One dog gets sick and another dog pushes him to the hospital. I’ll let Boss cover any questions. Fill in the gaps. You know.

Upon leaving the beach, we happened upon a mobile dog spa. We had considered getting Little Filthy shaved to keep him nice and cool during the summer and since he needed a bath anyway, we decided on a quicky shave….what the hell. And I can tell you without a doubt, that was his reaction as well - what. the. hell.

He has a lion tail. And looks like someone stuck the wrong size head on his body.

Here is his, “I mean, honestly” photo:

Right then. Sorry, buddy.