There are no bad owners, only bad dogs

2005-05-18

Restless Dog Syndrome

Three things:

1) There is such a thing as restless leg syndrome, so this explains why my feet feel the need to wiggle around and prevent me from sleeping. Does this also include My Toes Don't Want to Touch Each Other syndrome? Because I think that's what I really have. I am happy to report that coprophagia is not an issue. On the other hand, coprolalia may be causing a problem or two... Damn you, DSM IV!!

2) Gifts are a tricky issue, a sticky wicket, a bit of a rabbit's hole. I have a theory about gifts. My theory is that gifts tend to fall in one of two categories. One: the unselfish gift. This is something most of us never have, nor ever will, experienced. This gift has nothing to do with the giver. It's all about filling a hole in the recipient. Ever gotten a workout tape or a teddy or a CD from a band you've never heard of? That's not category one.

Two: The gift is what the giver wants the recipient to have. It has a lot to do with the giver and little to do with the recipient. It says "This is what I think you should have." Or, "This is what I wish you would want." I have never received the first kind. I have occasionally given the first kind, but also sometimes fell into the trap of giving the second kind. I have only received type two gifts. I guess the moral of the story is that we should just go ahead and spend our money on ourselves instead of sinking $600 into a gift that the recipient doesn't even want. Because, really. Who wins?

The worst birthday present I ever got, ever: Tickets to REM. Then after my boyfriend gave me the tickets and said he'd go to the show with me, he dumped me. That same night. But we were trying to be all grown up about it, so he was still going to go to the show with me. But then, the night of the concert, he showed up covered in hickeys. I mean, what kind of grown-up even allows that? So, since then, I just let the birthday pass. And no one has yet troubled those waters by giving me a mortgage or a Saluki.

May I add that in spite of the fact that I have always adored David Letterman, even when he had his morning show before most of you were born, I dislike intensely the way he buttons his double-breasted sport coats? Because, Dave, I'd do you, totally, except when you only have the inside buttons buttoned. Do the outside ones. Please. Dave. Please.

I meant two things.

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