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View My Stats, bitch.
This weekend, after years of work and effort, we finally got Katy to howl. She was absolutely appalled at herself, and as soon as the last bit of "wooooo" came out of her mouth, she ran away and hid as though she were deeply ashamed of herself for finally caving in to the primal demands of the howl. She did it again very briefly the next day, then proceeded to ignore our attempts. Why is howling such an embarrassing act? This is a dog who has deliberately peed on the couch in order to make a point (I, of course, accused the greggers of spilling a drink on the couch because my little Katy wouldn't possibly be angry or jealous enough to send a message via urine). The last time I peed on a couch it wasn't deliberate, but it was a lot more shameful than howling. I wasn't unconscious at the time of the peeing, by the way, I had a nasty case of bronchitis and I coughed so hard that my sphincter exploded. Howling is kind of fun. Peeing on the couch is not.
In other recent "excitement," I had to take my vacuum cleaner apart to find out why it wasn't sucking, and I discovered a pecan wedged into one of the tubes. When it was sucking again, I vacuumed the living room and it sounded like I was sucking up gravel, so many pecans had been eaten in there.
But the most excitement, world-rocking variety, is that I got TIVO and I may never read another book. It's still learning my preferences so it records some weird-ass stuff. A documentary about Matisse and Picasso in French, for example. I gave it three thumbs up!! How did it know? So then I got a bazillion weird biographical documentaries, most about people I've never heard of. Thumbs down! This is all sounding fond and affectionate, but setting it up was very unpleasant and frustrating. Not the physical put-the-wire-in-the-hole part, but the part where it needs to make several phone calls in order to set itself up, in spite of the fact that it could get right onto the Interweb and get what it needs. There were millions of people simultaneously setting up their TIVOs, so we kept getting knocked off the call, but the message the little man in the TIVO box kept sending was that my phone was getting incoming calls, and HELLO? No one ever calls me. So eventually we gave up, went out somewhere and drank some stuff, then came home at like 2 and set the TIVO to call in the middle of the night, then woke up and a choir of angels sang and ta-dah! We could record hours and hours of stuff. My viewing habits, for some reason, led the TIVO to believe that I wanted to watch a lot of Christopher Lowell shows, but the man is like rubbing lime into a paper cut, then scooping your own eye out with a spork.
Work crushed my soul yet again today, so that's not really news...
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