The Small Male Froofroo Dog Naming List

A project of sorts was handed to me this morning as I sit on my porch in my rocking chair sipping a cup-a-joe, sifting through e-mails, wondering what I am going to do with my day. Timing couldn't have been better, since my choices for todays meanderings were:
1) movie watching and tostito munching
2) dishes, laundry and miscellany
3) go to work (yea right. What are they gonna do? Fire me?)
4) smoke cigarettes and count how many bugs are stuck between the screen and frame on my porch
5) make a list of puppy names befitting a king. A master. A rough, tough bastard with an affinity for leg humping and toy hiding..

I choose 5. I'm a good namer.

Mind you, this list is not all-inclusive. Names will come and go in my mind and I shant spend too much time on one name before moving on to another. Im a.d.d. like that. Jessica wants a big name for a small dog. Or a funny name. I can do that. I can do both. At the same time. I'm wicked smart like that.

So, for all my friends, Jessica's friends, and our combined friends whom I've not yet had the pleasure of meeting who make their way to this specific blog on this specific day, I present to you The Small Male Froofroo Dog Naming List

Ash
Bandit
Bubbles (Tiny Bubbles, to be exact. Doesnt it make you giggle?)
Giggles (you're welcome, Jessica. I know you like that.)
Dozer
Tank
Stud (why, Jessica? Why??)
Monkey (I think we should change the spelling to Monkie to differentiate between her little male dog and my almost-four year old Daughter)
Cane and Abel (if she gets two, we should pit them together and see who wins)
Cane (yes again. If its a white dog, name it Cane. Not like Co-Caine you drugged out hippy. Sugar Cane.)
Zeke (BIG dog name. Under-utilized in my opinion)
Bailey JakeScout (inside joke. Jessica and I have an inside joke. I'm special.)
Binky
Stay (Come, Stay! Stay....Come! Sit, Stay!... Stay...Come! (you get it. it's mean. so am I.))
Beefcake (kickass.)
Mange (it will keep strangers away.)
Dionysus (yes. The Greek God of wine. He shall drink. Especially if Im dogsitting.)
Dickie (Dickie Dick. Sorta like Richie Rich, but funnier. For those of you who need an explanation, Jessica's last name is Dick. Go ahead and laugh. I do.)
Drixoral (yes. An antihistamine. Jessica might be allergic. Then she can nub up on him and not get weepy.)
Douchebag (EVERYbody needs a dog named Douchebag)
Easyrider (insert last name. laugh amongst yourselves)
Ewok (dont know where this came from.)
Goliath (another BIG dog name)
Nuts (yet again insert last name. I amuse myself)
Napoleon (a small dog. Like the man. Only hairier. And without a French accent)
Amigo
Bogart
Chaucer (ask Jessica. She likes it.)
Barbie (silly little gay dog.)
Chopper (grrr)
Turdburglar (it rhymes. Rhyming names are in)
Tequila (for me. Please.)
Rebel
Kevin (a wonderful dog name, if I say so myself)

So. This is just the beginning. If this naming extravaganza takes a long time, I will be adding to this list. Im also open for suggestions. Wait. Let me rephrase. I will read your suggestions and decide if they are worthy of tacking on to my list. Please note, if you send in a suggestion that is beyond brilliance, I will steal it and claim it as mine. I dont want anyone taking credit for their own hard work and wittiness... except for me.

A little privacy, please....

As some of you may know, Monkey had her first ballet/tap class last night. She was such a little firecracker! I put her to bed in her tap shoes last night, because I figured it wouldn't hurt anything, and she would probably give me less grief about having to go to bed. This works for me. However, after I was confident that she was asleep, I went into her bedroom and took off her shoes. All is well at this point.

However.

This morning, I slept in a little (ok, alot.) and went into the bathroom to turn on the shower when the youngin' monitor erupts with a screaming monkey. "Daaaaaddddddyyyyyyyy.... (6 second pause) .......Daaaaaaaaddddddddddyyyyyyyyy.....(another 6 second pause)........ Daaaaaaaaaddddddddddyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyy....."! I'm pretty good about getting in her room by the third calling. It's cute because each yell is more drawn out than the one before. So I walk into her room and she is sitting on her bed with her arms crossed, holding her new bear that my boss got her when she was in the hospital, and she asks me, "why are my tap shoes on the floor?" Stop. Change to "Deer in Headlights" stance. "You must have taken them off in your sleep, sweetheart..." Why in God's name did I just lie to my child? No turning back now. "I want my shoes back on." I put her shoes back on and got her out of bed and she followed me into my bedroom where she crawled into my bed with her tapdance shoes and pulled all the blankets up to her ears (yes. she likes her ears covered). I tell her I'm going to get in the shower but I'm going to close the door. She asks why. I tell her that I need a little privacy, please. Fine. After my shower, I wrap the towel around my waste and open the door. She is still laying there covered up to her ears. We converse for a moment while I shave. Then I close the door. She asks me why again. I tell her I need a little privacy. Fine. By the time I open the door again, Monkey is in her room with the door shut. I go in there to attempt to get her dressed. She is not in her room. I look around and notice her closet door is closed. I open the door and she is standing in there, naked in her tapdance shoes, putting on her clean underwear. She stops and looks up at me and with the sassiest voice says to me, "a little privacy, please...."

Smartass.

Wonder where she got that from...

My little Ballerina and other things....

Monkey has her very first Ballet class today! That's right. Juliard, here we come! I am going to be the beaming, retarded father in the corner snapping pictures the ENTIRE time I am there. She has a little leotard, and dance shoes, and she has to have her hair pulled up (which I'm worried about). I can't do hair very well. I have managed a few times to get perfectly straight pigtails, or a pseudo-braid.... but we'll see. I think I'm gonna have to go to CVS and pick up some of those hair clip things that look like a plastic claw. I have little ones but they will not do the trick.

I will be posting pictures of her first class...

OH! This morning.
We seriously need to talk about this.

I was driving down the Durham Freeway coming to work this morning. The wind is blowing. The rain is coming down hard. I am in the left lane driving with traffic, but giving a few extra car lengths to the car in front of me so I don't make them nervous when this PRICK in a BMW gets right on my ass and starts flashing his lights. Number one rule, don't do that. You will be forced to avoid slamming into me when I hit the brakes. This pisses him off. So he jerks to the other lane and pulls up next to me (we are doing about 60 mph) and he stares, so I feel obliged to give him the finger and stare at him while I do it. This does not make him happy, so he speeds up and attempts to cut me off, but in doing so, he hydroplanes into a spin and crashes his car into the median, completely ruining the entire front and side of his car! Serves you right, asshole.

Yes, I did pull over and ask him if he was ok, if he had a cell phone, did he need me to call someone, did he need me to wait on him...

but only after calling him an idiot did I ask these things.

That'll teach 'er

I have a gift.

The gift of being able to sleep through anything. Or so I thought until 5:45 this morning...

Bear with me on this one, because there are so many details.

Monkey goes to sleep at or around 8:00 p.m. I, on the other hand, go to sleep around 1:00 a.m. or later, depending on how many cigarettes I have left, or how keyed up I am because I don't know how to say no to caffeine. Monkey's bedroom is on the other side of my apartment, but my bathroom butts up against the wall in her room, so sometimes when I shower in the morning, the noise will wake her up. That little tidbit of information has no relevance to this story. Monkey's bed is a wooden bed with two long rails that fit on both sides, so she is, in essence, is in a pine encasement at night. She can climb in when it's time for bed, but prefers not to climb out. This works for me.

When morning comes, I get up, get a cup of coffee, get in the shower, get dressed, eat cereal (or not) and do what I have to do before I get Monkey up. I enjoy this time. It's "me" time. This morning, I laid there with my eyes closed and listen to the monitor to try and hear her stirring, snoring, or moving around. Nothing. Thinking this is strange, because she never gets out of her bed, I open my eyes and she is standing beside my bed staring at me in the face with a smile on her face and her hands covering her mouth as if trying to keep from making a sound! Needless to say, I got freaked out. Sorta like the scene in "Dawn of the Dead" when the couple is laying in bed and the next door neighbor's daughter is just staring at them. Freaky! I have a feeling if this happens again, and I notice she's there before I open my eyes, I'm gonna have to "BOO" so she knows that I can appreciate her being quiet, but not the whole standing there thing.

I hit the nail on the head....

Sometimes I think life comes at us at such a wicked pace, that we don't even have the time to sit back and catch our breath! Events, people, jobs, relationships... not especially in that order... they can be so overwhelming at times. Too seldom do we take the time to kick back, RELAX, and just think about all the little details. When we do finally get the time, some of the things we thought at the time to be massive, horrendous happenings, they all of a sudden seem manageable and not so overwhelming. It is amazing what time can do. It can either make you realize that you have made the right choices, or it can be an eye opener and make it clearer as to what you really want.

Determination

Monkey was so sweet this morning. She woke up in her typical fashion (I pick her up from her bed and take her to the couch where she sits on my lap facing me with her head on my chest). I got her dressed, checked her blood-sugar, fed her, teeth brushed, and out the door in only 15 minutes (go me). She had a rather restless evening, though. Still getting used to it being only the two of us, she whined a bit and kept begging and begging for someone to come over, in which I calmy responded, "not today... maybe another day". Another day turns into a week... and I feel terribly guilty. But this morning, she says to me, "daddy... guess what. it's ok when we don't have company." It made me smile. However, by the time we were at school, she was asking the same question again. She doesn't miss a beat.

I get tired of hearing this....

I don't want to hear "where are all the good guys?" My best friend asked me today where all the good guys are. I politely told her, "they are everywhere, but the guys you attract are directly related to the bait you use." And you know what? It makes sense. But then we got into a conversation about how people change in the middle of a relationship, and how some people's true colors show after the feelings have gotten very strong. And that's when she told me that alot of guys can be good guys in the beginning, but when you finally settle in, they either freak out or get tired of the relationship. And then they aren't so good any more. I had no answer to that one. I'm still trying to figure that one out myself.

Inside.

"The less we worry how people view us, the more we are willing to set ourselves free."


I think to the people around me who are suffering, lost, or don't know who they are. I say a prayer for you today.

This Weekend

OK. So I discovered the key to smoking ALOT less. It's called Natural American Spirit Tobacco. and no stress.... and being busy... but now we are getting away from the true message here. American Spirit. Winston cigarettes post on the box that they contain no additives. 100o additives. But they are forgetting one. The one that makes it burn much faster than plain cured tobacco. But not American Spirit. Oh no. It generally takes me about 4-5 minutes to smoke 1 Winston (or Camel, because it's the best fucking cigarette on the planet). It takes me almost 15 minutes to smoke an American Spirit. Not to mention the fact that I feel better when I smoke American Spirit. And they are delicious. Yes, delicious. I smoke 2 packs of Camel cigarettes daily. However, I only smoke 1/2 pack of American Spirit. Just what I need to tone down the nicotine before quitting, which happens soon. How soon? This weekend... hence, the subject of this blog. Oh. And we are going on a trip to the mountains this weekend! It's supposed to be very nice ...

Today I:

Woke up 1 hour late.

Attempted to fix the braids in my daughters head from the day before because it's just so damn cute.

Procrastinated. Alot.

Drank WAY too much coffee.

IM'ed WAY too much to get any work done.

Wished my parent a Happy Wedding Anniversary (38 years)

Became sad that I may be already too old to have a 38th wedding anniversary.

Figured out that it doesn't matter as long as I am with the woman of my dreams (whoever she may be)

On a separate note, I'm excited. Tonight will be fun.