I should clarify that our landlord may have thought that we couldn't afford such a drastic increase and was hoping that we'd move out because of it. What she doesn't know is that while we're grumbling about it, we can afford it so she's stuck with us.

My soon-to-be sister in law asked me to do a reading at their wedding. I told her I'd only do it if I could do it in the style of Jesse Jackson.

Now and again, I think I should aim for some sort of worldwide recognition, ala the Power Bloggers list or some shit like that. But then I remember that I'm talking about my life here and that kind of exposure isn't why I'm doing this. Shit, my parents don't even know about this little venture, it didn't seem worth telling them, since $5 says that they'll follow up that disclosure with months of "aren't you giving away too much information?" Not worth it.

Maybe I am giving away too much information but I'm having a fine time doing it.

After talking to my landlord last night, we realized that she doesn't really want us to stay, that she was sure that raising the rent would force us to leave. Ha! She kept saying that she'd need to fix the place up, I had to stop her with "but we're not leaving." The rescheduled "walk through" is Sunday morning, it will take everything in my power to not mutter out loud or under my breath that she's become a greedy bitch.

I have in my possession an offer from a company that, by all of my self-imposed standards, meets every criteria that I have. It's close to home, will let me bring the dogs, has a fast-paced environment, interesting co-workers, and free soda. And yet, when I opened the envelope, I started crying. I don't get it.

I hate changing jobs, hate it. It's a real pain in the ass.

If this lovely Beetle wasn't $135, I'd buy it. It's so fab-u-lous! Thanks to my fine brother for this one.

I'm proud to announce the arrival of the Do-It-Yourself POPE on my office wall. It's caused many of my co-workers to sqwack out loud, myself included!

I realized that I hadn't travelled anywhere recently, so I took a little trip to visit the Pope.

Just when I thought the web couldn't get any better, along comes the Do-It-Yourself POPE. Benedictions to Pith and Vinegar for this link to holy goodness.

Don't let me forget to tape Rudy on Oprah next week. Thanks to the fabulous Amy for the inside scoop.

Dan is truly a Pain in the ASS.

It's true, I'm a lameass and haven't blogged at all today. It all started with a crazy lunch, followed up by some seriously souped up mudslides. Now I'm too buzzed to leave and too buzzed to work. What to do, what to do.

For all my friends who've heard me say I went to school with this guy who rides BMX bikes for a living, here he is!

For some unknown reason, I'm feeling the sadistic pull to find members of my high school class. Hey Dan! Check these kids out! Funny, reading their names brings up a friend who has had carnal knowledge of all of them. Talk about your claim to fame.

Today's New Feature
Liz.Longer, featuring the font used in the opening credits to the Mary Tyler Moore show!

Took Amy to a surprise location for lunch: Harry's Hofbrau. The experience begins when you walk up to the place and see the turkeys roasting on a spit in the window, backlit with heat lamps. Inside, it could be anywhere in Ohio, all this heavy wood and the smell of sauerkraut wafting towards you. Yum yum!!

Hey Dan! You look exactly like your dad in that picture.

I don't know why people think it's okay to be rude.
This morning I was walking the dogs, minding my own business. As I left my house, I saw a woman with a kid on a scooter walking around. Towards the end of our walk (the same walk we take every day), I see the woman again. I smile my polite smile, not knowing if the kid will want to pet the dogs.

I'm just starting this smile when the woman says to me in a loud voice DON'T POOP ON MY LAWN. I assume she meant the dogs, since I don't usually poop outdoors. The kid echoes this order so I'm feeling attacked by both an adult and a charming 4 year old. Just to reaffirm her position, she says it again, in case I'm deaf or something.

Meanwhile I'm standing there with a bag of poop that I've removed from other people's lawns, good urban dog parent that I am. I hold the bag out to her and say "uh, I clean it up. Sorry other people don't do the same." Walking away, I muttered my most sarcastic "nice".

If I see her again, will I have the balls to say something like "I'm not sure why you were rude to me but it really bothered me. Had you asked if I pick up the poop I would have gladly discussed it with you but by shouting at me you effectively prevented us from having a civil relationship"??

Probably not, I'll just smile my polite smile and walk on by with my bag of poop.

Oh my god! Mr. Mackey sings Carol of the Bells is so funny.

I am not a superstitious person, but....

Since 1988, the end of August has sucked ass for me. It all started when my friend was killed in a car wreck on August 29, 1988. She was 17 and was NOT wearing a seatbelt, teaching me important things about pain, loss and the importance of seatbelts. I also lost my virginity that day, which I gladly wouldn't have remembered the date of had my friend not been killed.

A year later, my cousin was born on that day so I got a year off.

In recent years, I've been dumped (Aug. 28, 1995), my mom's dog Buddy was diagnosed with terminal cancer (August 28, 1999). Here this little dog had effectively brought my mom back to herself, back to life, and now he's being taken from us? This year, all of my friends at work were laid off (Aug 23, 2000) and my rent was raised a shitload (Aug. 27, 2000).

In the grand scheme of things, this year (so far) hasn't been too bad but I won't breathe easy until the 30th.

I've actually been too busy to blog lately. That's crazy!

It was an eventful weekend. Ellie's hunger strike had gone too far, she couldn't poop, so I took her into the vet Saturday morning. The vet suspects a reaction to her pain medication so she's off that, but she also gave us some new food to try and now she's eating like a pig, with food all over her ears and nose.

Then I was off to Santa Cruz for my final haircut with my fabulous stylist, who is moving to NY. Great for her, but sucks ass for my hair!

Sunday, our landlord finally called. She wants to raise the rent by "only $400" since we're "good renters". Thanks.