I'm a native because somehow a fish spill on the Bay Bridge impacts my life.

It's official, the web is funny again! Wait till I show those guys the Butt Crack Trick.

From Dick Van Patten's weblog:>br? Good news! The Depends undergarment people called!! I'm so excited I wet myself! They say they would like me to star opposite June Allyson in an instructional video on how to sponge bath the elderly after being incontinent! This should be able to pay off the enormous tab I've generated at the liquor store. Reminds me of that great joke: What does an 80-year-old woman's vagina smell like? Depends...

How did I not find Easy Midget before? And how come nobody else told me? That's the funniest goddamn thing I've seen in a while. Besides of course, the look on Andrea's face the first time I did the aforementioned Butt Crack Trick.

I am SO ready for the weekend. Yesterday, I concentrated so hard that my left butt cheek hurts from sitting in one place for so long and I only ate a teeny bit of Stove Top stuffing all day, not realizing until about 6 pm that I was hungry. At hockey class after work, I caught my left outside edge (I'm never sure if this happens because it's warm outside and pretty much impossible for the ice to fully freeze or because I need my skates sharpened. At any rate, skating at this time of year, before they've got the temperature regulated for warmer weather, is like running on sand -- good for you in the long run but very hard in the short term.) while doing the clock drill, also known as the 6 and 12 drill, and went sliding across the ice on my ass. It seemed harmless at the time but today my other butt cheek is also sore.

At least I have a matched pair of sore cheeks.

Speaking of cheeks, the other night after my NCWHL game, I felt the need to bare just a part of my butt crack, then bend over just as Andrea was coming in the room. She was startled and I laughed so hard I snorted for a good long time. Even as I write this, just remembering it is making me laugh so hard my chair is rattling. I now call it the Butt Crack Trick and dare her to throw a quarter in there. No, you, my loyal readership of three, will NEVER see this trick in person.

Still speaking of cheeks, I realized that the only tattoo I'd really want (besides a poster of Herve Villachez) is a monkey, just over my ass. That way, when people say "I'd do that only after monkeys fly out of my ass!" I would say, well, then, do it, and do the Butt Crack Trick to show them the monkey flying out of my ass.


Why I play hockey. Or least least a few of the reasons why it's important to me. I do wonder, why does hockey get a different reaction than soccer or basketball? Those folks get bounced around just as much, and without any padding! I have pads for almost everything (though I do draw the line at the pelvic protector -- fer christ's sake, my parts are internal!), the only difference is that I have those pads and other sports don't!.

Last fall, I took our neighbor's kid to a soccer practice. This eenager who was watching a flock of her siblings came up and asked me where my babies were and if there was a girl playing soccer, then again where were my babies. It had never occurred to her that you could have a life without babies and a life that included sports. How fucking sad is that?

It's rather hot today and Zeus is panting in my ear. With his ears down, mouth agape, toungue hanging out, I'm reminded that despite being a little punk most of the time, he's getting kind of old.

Wow! The Nice Man from Roads and Airports called back, they're doing 'digups' where they fix holes in the street. He assures me that they'll move if I need to get out and that they should be working, even though it's hot they should'nt be out there drinking beer.

Today there are 7, count 'em, 7, trucks on our street from the Roads and Airports Department doing God knows what. Right now two of them are parked side by side on my narrow little street so even if I wanted to leave, I couldn't. A call to their main number put me in touch with a woman manning the phone who has a hearing problem, never a good match. Not only did I have to speak up, I had to speak slowly so there I am shouting, slowly, my street name, Pacific, which she didn't understand, so I say "LIKE THE OCEAN" and of course she says "Ocean?" Finally she figured out that some other office has the information about whatever they're doing but naturally they're not there and I'm sure the message I left won't be answered.

This kind of thing never used to bother me but now it really does. I'm blocked in to my house, wasn't notified about this in advance and they're running machines that are making Gus bark. Not the way to have a productive day at home.


Looking for a butt? Order yours here!

And congrats to JT for getting hisself a job!

I hate it that some of my friends are still out of work. I hate it that Leo will most likely grow up far away from here, where he won't know me or even remember me. But I'll always remember that I held him first, after his parents did. Could fate just step in and find a nice job for my friends and family who need them? Like, now?

Played our annual concert with the kids from the high school last night. Back when our (the community band) director also taught at the high school, this made sense, bringing together both of Bob's groups to show off how great he is. But now, Bob has retired and has been out all year from our band so the connection is gone and playing that concert doesn't make any sense. We waited 2 hours to play, then only played 2 songs. Not worth it.

And the side show of watching all those high school kids flail about, full of hormones, is something I'm not looking to re-live anytime soon. They just make me nervous. Probably because I was so nervous when I was that age, seeing them brings it all back.

This morning I'm talking to Andrea over IM, finding out how much Patrick (aka Squishy) ate (the little guy is just too skinny) when she goes shit! We've been feeding Zeus in a crate since he tends to get in everyone else's face and eat their food (little man is getting a little belly, something we've avoided to date). This morning Andrea left for work with Z in the crate! Doh! Little dude probably has to poop something fierce, since he usually bolts outside immediately after making sure there's no more food for him.

I still feel like crap and am having a hard time focusing today. I tried to sleep on the train but the conductor was fucking chatty cathy, interrupting the quiet express portion of the ride to remind us to keep cell phone conversations to a minimum, so everyone has a pleasant CalTrain experience. He also listed the stops where the train does not stop at each stop and thanked us for riding CalTrain -- at each stop. Maybe I'm just not feeling well, but it was freezing on there. Not the most pleasant ride. All this before 8 am.


Saturday Free Willy 2 came on HBO and I got all excited. Not because the movie was better without Lori Petty in a wetsuit (it wasn't) but because it and the original were filmed on location inside my friend Gail's house. When I saw the first movie, I saw that view and thought, I need to go there. Not knowing that just a few years later, I'd be sitting at that same counter watching that same amazing view from Gail's kitchen. For the record, it's in Astoria, Oregon. So the movie comes on and the kid looks up his street (really, Gail's street) then they pan back to show the house that Gail built (literally, she restored the whole thing, inadvertently making it camera-friendly) and I got giddy, couldn't help smiling especially when they walk into Gail's kitchen with it's sporty avacado stove. Soon after, I called and invited myself up for a visit. Naturally, she'd been thinking of me (I'm the 4th kid she never meant to have, bringing trouble and lots of fun to her 3 boys) so it was "Kismet."

The wedding was a lot more fun than I'd dared to hope for. The setting was lovely, both Thoma and Jessica looked great. Thoma sat me with my counterpart, his other good female friend Helene. We had a fabulous time chatting with her and admiring his new ring (the first 10 minutes was Thoma screaming HOLY SHIT I'M MARRIED!!! LOOK AT THIS FUCKING RING!! I HAVE A WIFE!!). We left early since we had over 2 hours of driving ahead of us, most of it up this freaky windy road. We left after dinner, while the first few dances were going on. I looked over and Thoma was bathed in this rose-colored light, beaming as his new bride danced with her father. It was one of those perfect moments, where all seems right with the world and you don't want to do or say anything to change that. So we took our leave then, making use of the little daylight that was left to get past part of the nasty road.

We did get to hear some people getting it on in the next hotel room. All this, and a free show!

On the way back we visited a friend of Andrea's, who seems to be a bit lonely. I knew beforehand that a conversation with her is really more you sitting and listening and her talking so I didn't let it get to me, I just listened. Sometimes that's all a relationship is, listening.

We got ambitious after a 3 hour nap at home and mowed both the front and back lawns as well as laying down this weed prevention fabric. So the dogs didn't mess with that stuff too much, we laid down this very classy plywood that came with the house over it. Late last night, as I was not sleeping, I heard what sounded like rodents above our bed. This went on for a while until we realized that the rodents stopped when Rainie, Patrick and Buddy were in the house. Yes, it was the 3 young dogs making a ruckus on the classy plywood. I hardly slept at all and now feel like crap so today I'm coming to you live from El Home Office.


Photo essay in napping, starring Rainie ROo and the crew.

Monday will mark 3 years since the day we met Alice. It's a day I'll always remember fondly, as it was the greatest day of my life.

My boss came around and said that if things are reasonably quiet, he wants us all to leave by 3 pm today. I've been practicing ever since -- "woo! bye! see ya! later!"



Valuable lesson learned while working at home: it's not a good idea to play tug of war with a 90 pound dog while seated in a chair on wheels over a hardwood floor.

Andrea's photos of Spring Games.

From Rainie and Patrick's brother Newman, in response to me joining The Daily Drool:

Rainie!! My sister Rainie!! Welcome to the drool!!! I'm your brother Newman D!!! Glad you could join us!!!! Wow... So many of my brother's and sister's out there!
Welcome to the list!
Love, your brother Newman D

Oops... I was so excited about finding Rainie I didn't notice that Patrick lives there too!! Ohhhh this is soo great! Patrick and Rainie in the same house! Welcome by siblings! Welcome! Where do you live? I seem to remember something about the north half of the next state (I live in Arizona) but not sure. Do you have pictures? I'd love to see pictures of my bro and sis! I can send you a picture of me if youd like!! I love to pose for pictures!!
Love Newman D

From a letter to Dena and Carol, the folks who raised Rainie, the Roolets and of course Patrick:

Here we are, on day 6 of Patrick being one of our crew and it's as if he was always with us. With all the fosters that have come through our house, never has a dog adapted to our home as quickly as our Squishy did! Within an hour, he mastered the doggie door (as usual, Rainie showed him where it is) and was watching out the front window with Roo from the back of the couch (my cat-bassets).

So far, we know this much about him:

  • he LOVES to follow Gus around. Gus is still a bit cautious about him but playing a little.
  • he LOVES to waddle in tandem with Rainie (how do their tails know which way to wag in order to stay in synch??)
  • he LOVES Zeus. At this moment, they are curled up together on the couch behind me, snoozing happily. This is one thing that I'd never expected to happen, Zeus is generally pretty aloof.
  • you must greet him properly before he'll eat. Once greeted, he settles down to eat pretty well.
  • he plays hard with Rainie and Buddy (the sweet foster guy who came back to us b/c he was miserable without a playmate, he's meeting a nice family today, wish him luck)
  • Rainie is already so bonded to him, it's amazing.
Bringing Patrick home has made me really enjoy the dogs again. I am giddy about him, and miss them all terribly when i'm not home. I was finally able to change my name on the MSN messenger from Alice's Mom to Rainie and Squishy's Mom (though I will always be Al's mom). Somehow this squishy boy has brought our family together. I had NO idea it would work out this well.

Thank you for both of these silly bassets who have changed our lives. I am sure that my Ellie sent us Rainie, knowing that I'd need some comic relief after losing Alice. Patrick was sent for pure joy. They are both amazing. We're in love.


One guy I work with is so insensitive it's almost funny. The day after we ran out of money, he was on the phone signing up for tennis lessons as if he was without a care in the world, while we were dodging bullets from customers, calls from liquidation firms who had gotten our name off of fuckedcompany and pretending like everything was fine. He also tried to engage me in an "interesting conversation" about how long people in the office would live -- 2 days after Alice died and I could barely make my way through the world. Today, while I politely asked him about his new car (purchased during the 2 months we were out of $$, I have no idea how that works) he asked about my Passat, then if Alice drove it. Um, no. Not only is she dead, when she wasn't dead, she was a beagle.

The exhaustion is getting to me. I think it's mainly because I didn't get much sleep this weekend, but I'm beat. Ready to fall asleep at any moment. I empathise a lot more with new parents now.

My brother is MIA, at least to my parents. I saw him Sunday but they haven't heard from him in about a week. This means that the only topic of conversation between my parents and I becomes where's Chris? He's not Waldo, I just don't know. So Chris, please call them or something, they're driving me fucking crazy.

Leo walks!! Last night we walked Rainie and Patrick over to Holly, Kevin and Leo's house so they could meet his Royal Squishiness and of course remind Rainie Roo of just how pretty she is. We discovered that in the last week, Leo has learned to walk! He sauntered (okay, walked like Frankenstein or his dad, when drunk, arms up to his shoulders and on the verge of falling) up and down the walk in front of their house, giggling like a schoolboy. He was so proud of himself, I've never seen him smile so big! He displayed a complete lack of fear of dogs by sticking his little finger right in Rainie's nose, Rainie displayed a complete lack of fear of children by letting him do that. They were pooped after that adventure.

Patrick is not the only Mr. Squishington basset in the world!


Some fine dog treats are brought to you by Plump Violet and her mom, the baker.

I can't stop staring at Squishy's picture. He makes me giddy. Him and that Rainie Roo character.

Wow! Wen and Mr. T share the same birthday! Slap ma fro!

What's astounding is how darn giddy I am about having both Patrick and Rainie. I haven't felt this way about a dog (and this time, it's about the 2 of them together) since after we brought Alice home. Buddy the foster dog came back because he was miserable without a puppy to play with at Linea's house. He sulked on the porch, not moving for an entire day, let alone smiling. Last night, his tail was taller than I'd ever seen it and he couldn't stop playing with Patrick and Roo. We came home from hockey practice to find Rainie's collar on the couch and poor Buddy, with his lovely Old Navy bandanna wrenched under his armpit. They were tired but happy. Hell, we all are.

Summary of our trip to Pasadena
Number of bassets named Elvis we drove to rescue on the way: 1
Amount of that portion of the trip Elvis took up the entire back seat, leaving my poor ROo on the floor: 80%
Number of bassets we picked up in LA: 1
Number of times I heard an O-Town song playing over a store loudspeaker: 2
Number of times someone was signing along with the O-Town song: 2
Number of times that person was me: 1
Amount of extra time it took Patrick to wade through a baby pool during the synchronized swimming contest: lots
Where we went on our big night out on the town: Smart & Final and the 99 cent store
Number of bassets in our party: 5
Amount of king sized bed left after 2 baby bassets get on: 30%

Sir Patrick "Squishy" Squishington of Roo


This genetically engineered chicken is just not right. Thanks Brad, I think.

My other issue with bridal registries is that the notion of them is outdated. In the Old Days, people lived at home until the got married so it was a no-brainer that you'd set them up with kitchen and household stuff when they started their new life together. But today, folks live together long before getting married and are getting married much later so by the time they're ready, they have a full set of towels and measuring cups. Can't we expand this tradition to be more current? I'm not sure what exactly that would entail but I'd be happy to find out.

My Own Issue
We're supposed to go to a friend's wedding this weekend but for some reason, we've really put off preparations for it. We have a hotel reservation and a dogsitter lined up but I've given no thought to a gift and now that I have, I'm looking at the registry items and getting pissed off. Not at my friend, who should by all means have a great wedding and a happy life, but at a society that celebrates the hell out of straight people and largely ignores or beats up gay people. I've always asked 'where's my Cusinart?' and seeing the Cusinart listed on their registry set me off.

Why do I have to get a domestic partner affidavit notarized to get benefits for Andrea but straight people are taken at their word that they're married? Why can't I marry her in a church like the rest of the world (and please do not tell me it's because we're sinful people leading sinful lives. So are you.)? Why can't I register for fluffy towels and new kitchen shit (even though we've been living together for almost 6 years and have fluffy towels and don't cook)? Why is it so damn hard for people to understand that my relationship with hers is no different than a straight couples, except of course that we've lasted longer than most of our straight friends have?

I'm having a serious mental block about buying this gift and attending this wedding. Totally my issue. I wish my friend and his bride all the best.

The other thing that's preventing me from wanting to go is my Grandma. She's 96 and has been in declining health since 1999. She's been my best friend since the day we met in 1973. Lately she's been talking about being ready to die and today for the first time my mom said 'yeah, I think she's ready to go'. Mom's never said that. I think I should go to Columbus this weekend and see her, though I worry that seeing me will make her less likely to go if she's ready.

We did not end up trying out for the Amazing Race.

What a weekend! We drove to LA on Friday, pulled up to the fine Quality Inn at the same time as Dena and the gang. While I checked in, Rainie stood outside Dena's van and talked to Patrick, who was hanging out of the window to talk to her. Once Patrick was out of the car, Rainie was a little snippy with him, but I hear that Patrick has been picked on by women all of his life (no, we do not have the manliest of men and that's fine by me!) so he didn't mind. We did, of course, but Rainie settled down just fine. We had a great time at Spring Games (Patrick came in second in Synchronized Swimming, wading across a baby pool filled with 2 inches of water. Of course, being my dog already, he took longer than the alloted time and waded through his other littermate Lexi's pool instead of his own!) and a great weekend with Dena, Carol, Melissa, (the people) Ellie, Shirley, Quinn, Rainie and Patrick (the bassets).

Patrick is so squishy we're calling him Squishy. Today I changed my name on the MSN messenger from Alice's Mom (which I'll always be) to Rainie and Squishy's Mom. It was time, though Al is never far from my thoughts.


The first meeting since our company was aquired was today. I guess it went well, with my boss presenting our fine product to the kids in leadership positions. One of those kids seemed very pleased by the results and felt the need to tell the entire staff this, which is cool. But he also said that they're looking forward to revenue from us in the next few months and that the "honeymoon clock" is running. In other words, we'll give you these nice paychecks and gave you your back pesos but you'd better put your money where your mouth is and sell some stuff or your ass is on the street. How charming. I feel so welcomed already.

Almost as much as I did when one of those guys stood outside my cube and farted before they bought us.

The upside is that all my co-workers are very cool, and of course that I have a Bay View. It's like going to a new school where you have the same teacher and do all the same work as before, but you're sitting somewhere else.

If your dog is a picky eater, The Brown Dog Institute has help for you!

Went to Andrea, Holly and Heather's green division practice last night to help out (i.e. give a few people some pointers and scam free ice time). Afterwards we went out boozing at a fine nearby tavern. I had 2 whole beers and got drunk enough to clock my head (slap ma fro!) on the seatbelt thing in Holly's vroom car. We stayed out way too late so today, while working at home, instead of lunch, I had a nap.


I also can't help but laugh at thos silly pictures of my friends below. How could you not?

I can't help it. I'm wearing my bad ass headphones here at work and though it's supposed to help me concentrate, I can't help but groove to a techno remix of Abba's Mama Mia. How could a person really be expected to sit still for this??

I need one of these: Adidas Martial Arts Cup. You can just see the guy saying "KICK ME IN THE NUTS!!!"

Now you can see him too! And his dancing friend!

Wanna do some shopping?


A jive version of yesterday's entry about the heat, courtesy of my friends at Rinkworks
It's 'estremely hot in our office today. Slap mah fro! A veritable disco inferno. 'S coo', bro. Despite da damn novelty fog (allegedly de SF air condishunin'), it may be time t'bust out mah' ghetto sho'ts fo' de summer. Ah be baaad...

My Oz Name is Skank Cunt.

My updated Wu-Tang name is Budget Nudist. Does that mean I carry a cheaper towel than your average nudist?

Last night's earthquake freaked me out. I was home alone (with 4 nice dogs to keep my ass company) when it hit. It was the strongest one I'd felt and certainly unnerving. As the house shook, I tried to grab the dogs and head to a doorway but realized that we wouldn't all fit. And that they weren't interested in waking up. It was Rainie Roo that I grabbed, I'll tell myself that it was because she was the closest to me, but I'll never know. They say it's not cool to have favorites with your kids but maybe it's okay w/ dogs. Yes, I love them all, but I think I'm finally afraid of getting too attached to our old guys, clinging instead to Ms. Sixteen Months old for dear life.

What everyone needs, a backpack that holds beer! I'm getting one now!


I think being kind is so important to me for two reasons: 1. because growing up, by and large, many kids at school (or wherever) weren't very kind to me. I'm sure I was defective in some way, but those kids didn't realize that they too, were marginally defective and they certainly didn't want to hear it from little ole defective me. So there it is, me, picked on at worst, ignored at best, grasping at fraglie friendships with people who were equally defective. 2. being around mean people (or simply regular people who are being mean) brings out a nasty mean streak in me. I try to keep my distance from that situation but sometimes it's unavoidable and I feel myself slipping into the Mean Liz outfit, which really doesn't look very good on.

I'm trying to change back into the Nice Liz outfit (which can be confused with the Doormat Liz outfit, which also does not look good on). I'll let you know how it goes.

It's extremely hot in our office today. A veritable disco inferno. Despite the novelty fog (allegedly the SF air conditioning), it may be time to bust out my ghetto shorts for the summer.

It was a weekend fraught with drama and joy, and I played some hockey too. The drama was hockey-related and the joy, well, for once, that's personal.

I have what may be eczema on my fingers. Blech. This is funny because my company (as you know so I won't tell you in person) was bought by a company whose name sounds an awful lot like an antibacterial creme, so of course I said to my co-worker, "Gee, this is a case for some (company name here)!!"

For external use only.


My hockey team overpaid for our league fees by about $800 total. I got a spreadsheet confirming this weeks ago and have been waiting for the check to arrive so I can distribute funds. Turns out the guy who sent me the info was waiting for me to answer a question he hadn't asked -- how did I want the funds? Now! Sheesh.

According to the Channel 4 Gay o Meter, I'm 63% gay, just slightly gayer than Andrea, at 60%. What does this mean? Should I start wearing more flannel? And speaking of flannel, in the midwest it's easy to figure out which chicks are gay, they sport mullets and flannel. In San Jose it's harder, but still manageable (short hair, kinda heavyset, the potluck, watch TV at home crowd) but here in San Francisco, I have no fucking clue. The fun part is that there seem to be a ton of these dykes/not dykes around, many of whom check me out when I'm out and about (still happy w/ Andrea thankyouverymuch, but that doesn't mean getting checked out isn't good for the old ego) so they must be gay but until they do, I had no clue. Dykes in disguise.

I'm not posting much these days. Yup, it's busy at work but I'm also doing some soul searching and well, I'm just not interested in sharing the deatils of that here. I'm growing less and less comfortable with writing about my life in this forum, growing tired of starting to tell a story then being stopped because the person I'm telling it to reads this blog and already knows. For Christ's sake, have some respect and let me talk.

I guess that pisses me off.

Another thing that gets me is assholes who talk loudly on their cellphones on the train. This morning at 7:32 am this guy got on the train and called someone. I know this because I woke up to his "HELLO!" then "I'M ON THE TRAIN." Well no shit, sir, we all are but you don't see me shouting about it. With all the grumpy tired strength I could muster, I did my very best librarian -- I shusshed empatically and with great force. He spun around and glared but was quiet the rest of the way so I could get back to sleep.

Liz... champion shussher.

And those goddamn wrong number dialers (for those of you who are familiar with LA Story)....they should be shot.


Woo hoo! Andrea got a job! She starts a contract at Apple next week, marking the end of an insanely brief period of unemployment.

Hockey Movie! Bob Rules!
My good friend Bob made this excellent highlight reel of my most recent A-Team game. It's a huge download but oh so excellent! You'll laugh, you'll cry, you'll say "shit! That had to hurt!" I can't stop watching it!

Grieve not, nor speak of me with tears.
but laugh and talk of me as if I were beside you.
I loved you so ---
'twas Heaven here with you.

Isla Paschal Richardson


In other news, Mary Tyler Moore celebrated in Minneapolis. Woo! A lovely bronze statue of none other than MTM herself! That's almost enough to make me want to visit Minneapolis. Almost.

Now, if it was in Beminji.....

Managed to fuck up my wrist at hockey practice last night. Tried to go see a fine doctor at the 'urgent' care place here in SF but the only one I could find that served folks w/ insurance in addition to low income folks couldn't see me until 5/28. I didn't know urgent meant something other than right now. I must do something about it, lest I be forced to ask some stranger to wipe my ass for me.

Once again, I was not consulted on toilet design.

A tribute to Myrtle.


My Dad, on the Amazing Race application: Are you going to attack snakes with your hockey sticks?

Diaries of Cats and Dogs


Day number 180

Day number 181

Day number 182
1:30 PM - oooooooH. bath. Bummer!

Amy and I are brainstorming to complete our Amazing Race Three application and will be filming the video of a lifetime this weekend. Do any of my 3 loyal readers have a video camera I can borrow, preferably one that I can somehow also add digital pictures to the film with? I'll post the resulting film here when it's all said and done.

Cute album of hounds making their way cross-country.

More sad news from Arizona
Myrtle was AZBHR's first rescue. Our good friend and Rainie's first human mama, Dena got a call from local breeder, Claudia Lane, about a basset hound who had been found out in the desert west of Phoenix. Dena's sister, Karlin, and I drove for about an hour, through washes to the middle of nowhere. When they saw Myrtle, our hearts sank. She was bloated beyond belief, and her nails curled into her pads. Theyfeared that she was pregnant and just about to give birth, so we quickly rushed her to the vet. The vet determined that she was not pregnant, but she could not figure out exactly what was causing the bloating. The vet decided that it would be best to euthanize Myrtle, to end her suffering. They agreed, and figured that it had been done. The vet called us later and said she just couldn't do it, because Myrtle's tail would not stop wagging. They went to pick her up, and after she recovered from her physical ailments, she quickly became a wonderful addition to the family. A major milestone was reached when Myrtle no longer cowered when we tried to pet her. Eventually she even sought out attention and affection, although she never would give kisses. (but she loved to receive them!) It was finally determined that she had inflammatory bowel, which caused the bloat. They were able to treat it successfully through diet and medication.

Myrtle eventually moved to South Dakota with Karlin and had a great time with her new Italian Greyhound brother, Pesto, and two kitty sisters, Naomi and Tabitha. She took great pleasure in walks, treats, and affection, all of which were lacking in her life before rescue.

Sadly, Myrtle passed away from heart failure the morning of May 7th. The vet tried to save her, but was unsuccessful. Myrtle, you will always remain in our hearts as our number one rescue....


My kinda testing: Experts overflowing with ideas for ideal toilet. Hell, I'm an expert on this too, why aren't they asking for my input? 1. Optional white noise emitters for fan-less bathrooms. 2. Built-in ventalation. 3. High powered flushing -- flushing twice is no fun. Floaters are not a treat.

There's a rumor that in addition to the fighting player being suspended, the team captain is also suspended. I'm waiting to hear back from Mr. Ice Center to confirm or deny this. If I'm suspended too, there will be hell to pay. Or at least I'll be REALLY pissed.

Weekend Summary: Tired and Sore
Saturday was a Hockey Marathon, 2 games back to back, literally. I ran from the first game on the north rink, changed jerseys (Andrea, my conceierge grabbed my gear and moved it to the other rink for me) and hit the ice for the 2nd game 1/2 way through the first period. By the end of the game, I was thinking how nice it was going to feel when I finally pried my feet out of my skates. For the record, it was.

The A-Team lost 6-1 and I'm embarrassed to say that one of our guys got in a fight with one of my friends from the other team. The Jets tied, 4-4, the sucky part was that we blew a 3-1 lead to do it but hey, a tie is a point and is not a loss.

We also hit Leo's 1st birthday party and won the prize for the most annoying gift that Leo loves a lot -- this totally obnoxious Home Depot Tool Van that says "WELCOME TO HOME DEPOT" when you push a button. It also tells you all about wrenches, tool safety and other tools. The perfect Dyke Gift. He won't stop pushing it around.

Andrea stayed up until 3:45 am reading all of Craig's list last night. I know this because I woke up when she came to bed and haven't been back to sleep since. Today is one hell of a long day.

Roo Gotcha Day!
One year ago today, we meet Rainie Roo and brought her home. It was the last day she was small enough to fit in the sherpa bag under the seat in front of us on the plane.

Today, she's huge (51.9 lbs) and makes us laugh every day. Her silliness has helped us get through the devastating loss of MissAlice and helped Gus change from a scared, skinny guy who could barely stand into the robust, moaning toy-carrier that he is today.

Alice on my Helmet
For a while I've thought of making an Alice sticker for my hockey helmet and yesterday I finally got around to it. I now sport a small sticker of Al in her raincoat on the back of my helmet. I don't know if that was the trick or what, but in practice last night, I kicked ass. Many folks on my women's league team can't skate backwards with the puck but thanks to my time in the advanced class, I was whizzing right along, passing most of my teammates. Woo! It's the power of Al.

First off, it's true, Patrick (aka Hat Trick) will be joining us in less than 2 weeks! He came back into foster care this weekend and got to hang out with littermates Dottie and Maynard. They remembered each other right away and Dottie bossed them both around, so I know Patrick is ready for life with Roo. ROo spent the weekend playing with foster dog Buddy, who is around her age. All weekend I kept hearing those moaning noises and there they were, pinning each other and rolling around on the ground. We have 2 low down dirty dogs but they're happy. I know that Patrick is the right thing for Roo.

Patrick sleeping, a different view of Patrick sleeping, Patrick gazing lovingly at something, Patrick on the prowl and Patrick sniffing for loose change.

Welcome home big guy!


Great Transit Adventure
It's just before 1 pm and I think to myself "hey, self, why not take BART to Oakland and the Hob Nob for lunch?" It's only a 12 minute ride so it shouldn't be too bad. I hop on the Muni, head to the Embaradero station, where BART and Muni come together, and head towards Oaktown. I come out of the station and see the Hob Nob's signature faded red awnings beckon. I can almost taste the Combo Creole. As I get closer I see signs on the windows and horror of all horrors, the Hob Nob is closed! Coming soon, it says is a taqueria.

I wanted to cry. I ate at some shit ass place and came back, dejected. However, my seamless use of not one but two public transit systems demonstrates once again, that I am a native!

Annie is a sweet basset that I was all set to go and pick up when help swooped in, got her out of a very bad place and now she's going to be okay. If you can spare $5, Annie could sure use the help.

The first beagle we were going to adopt was named Annie. She was at least 11 and her people were moving, her story broke my heart so we asked our landlord if we could have a dog. By the time we got her answer, Annie had been adopted so we looked closer to home (she was in LA) and at the moment I had called Linea w/ beagle rescue to say we wanted an older dog, Alice's former mom had called to give her up. Clearly it was meant to be (Annie, I heard later was quite a barker, something that would not have gone well in our condo at the time) and it all started with a girl named Annie.


Public Service Announcement
Don't let a pedicure disfigure you is scary shit. I'm pretty sure my Grandma had her newly implanted (at the time) hip cause a staph infection and turn septic, which then caused the removal of said hip and her quality of life to deteriorate to the point where she can't walk, sits in a chair all day and has 24 hour care, because she had a pedicure right after the hip replacement surgery. So please be careful, weird shit can happen to any one of us.

Just now, I found myself inexplicably drawn to the only known footage of Alice. Thanks to JT for making it magically much smaller! You rock!!

The intent way she's looking? That was for me. When we were at work together, she always looked at me like that, as if I held the key to Big Snacks and Great Adventure, all of which was just steps away. I could always count on her to look up from a deep sleep if I so much as turned around to admire her cute little self. Let's face it, she was the best, the cutest, the funniest, the most obnoxious, #1. With every breath I miss her but at least now I can smile about her too, remembering good times along with those final weeks/days where she was so clearly no longer herself and no longer happy.

The morning she died, we fed her in our bed. There was one piece of kibble left behind. I had told my mom when we first found out her dog had terminal cancer "when he misses a meal, then it's time to make a decision." That morning, as I saw that lone piece of kibble my words came back to haunt me and in my gut I knew that she'd be gone soon.

I guess just before my company was purchased by this other company, a couple of folks were laid off in anticipation of my team being a bunch of studs (not to brag, but really, they are). One of those folks came by here today, running loudly (the great stomping of feet and all that) and touretteing oh so loudly about how she'd been laid off, how poor she was (it's been all of 2 weeks, even the poorest of money managers are hard-pressed to go completely broke in 2 weeks) and how she isn't going to sign whatever it is until she gets money.

I needed to know none, not a one, of these things.

As said by me:
Using Netscape 4.6 or 4.7 is like watching your old black and white TV that only shows static, then asking NBC to rebroadcast shows so that you could see them.

Advice from a beagle buddy on whether or not we should adopt Sir Patrick of Roo:
Dear Roo Family
Go see the Roo,introduce the Roo..if it seems that the new Roo would upset the others..I would seriously consider it.. but if they all get along..well then what I would do..would be to take in the new Roo..and I hope you do.


How the hell could this happen? Girl missing a year without anyone reporting it. That little girl was 5 years old. How does a 5 year old go missing with nobody reporting it to the police? That's a real nice family there.

There are so many exciting things, I don't know where to begin. I'll start with Things.

On the phone with my mom this morning, we were talking about my San Francisco Adventure. She said it might be nice to some night, if I didn't have 'your ice hockey' to go around in the city and see Things, since you know there are Things to be seen there in that city. It was all I could do not to laugh because she is right there are Things aplenty to see here in this city!

One of those Things was my nice homeless-esque friends on the Muni this morning. The guy: long flowing ratty hair, dirty fingernails (yes, I was THAT close), grubby clothes and brand new, red patent leather Timberland boots. He runs to the Muni car then parks himself in the doorway, one foot inside the car, one foot on the station platform and gestures frantically at someone on the platform, who I assume is running to meet him. A similarly clad woman gets into the car and off we go. Right away she starts speaking loudly about 'He had no other fucking options, man, no other fucking options.' They go on to talk about someone they know, who has apparently 'been afflicted with some sort of Bible thumping bullshit.' My friends from Muni, they're not all bad.

Later this morning, we strolled across the Embarcadero to our front row seats at Red's Java House (my new second home) for a viewing of Things. 4 gigantic cranes were being shipped to the port of Oakland. At 220 feet tall, they were just barely short enough (with a shitload of water let taken into the freighter that was carrying them to lower the boat until the middle deck where the cranes sat was no more than 6 inches above water) to clear the Bay Bridge, making this exciting passage into a Spectacle, replete with news helicopters that appeared to be levitating, the SFFD fire boat spraying streams of water for the hell of it and tons of gawkers like myself. When the first crane passed under the bridge, it was almost too close to call. I stood there, mouth agape, as it slowly passed by. Once they all had cleared, the crowd dispersed and we headed back to work.

I'm seeing Things everywhere I go!

In other news, I'm officially a member of the Jets! Another player got injured so I'm taking his place. Woo hoo!