Titillation is in the Eye of the Beholder

Today is Friday, and so I spent my lunch hour reading the Washington Post Weekend section. I do it pretty much every week. I thumb through the tabloid insert (hey, did you catch that journalism school term? who says those student loans weren't worth it?) and browse the new and upcoming movies, art exhibits, concerts, bar and restaurant reviews, outdoor activities and special events.

Then it struck me, Why am I reading this? When was the last time I went to a hip bar, a museum exhibit, a concert, a festival or a movie? (Okay, Yum and Prurient and I went to see Brokeback Mountain on Monday night, but we were all struck by the fact that we hadn't been to the movies in so long we couldn't remember what we last saw in a theater.)

My name is Merseydotes, and I am an old, married fuddy duddy. At the ripe age of 29.

Seriously, it's the weekend, and what's on tap for me and Basil? Tonight we're planning on catching up on a missed episode of 24 and then watching The Blues Brothers, because we've had it from Netflix for, like, two months and it's starting to get dusty on top of the TV. (I've never seen it all the way through, whereas Basil has lines memorized.) Tomorrow I'm getting my hair done, and on Sunday we're having some friends over for an early dinner. And then a new Desperate Housewives is on! Followed by Grey's Anatomy!

Maybe we'll take Lilah to the dog park. Or install the curtain holdbacks we bought a month ago. Or get really crazy and hit Bed Bath & Beyond, a la Frank the Tank and his wife in Old School.

I've complained before that I lead a pretty boring life these days, but the truth is, I don't mind it one bit. Every once in a while, I get the opportunity to let my hair down and have a wild night with some girlfriends, and I always end up being reminded of why being wild, single and free isn't all it's cracked up to be. (Not that I'm knocking it, cause I certainly had enough fun in my single years to count for two people's lives.) It's easy to look back fondly on the total freedom of college and my early adult years and gloss over things like getting rejected by guys, standing around in smelly, crowded bars trying to hear conversation, constantly worrying about what I was wearing and whether I looked hot or not, waiting 20 minutes for the last-call Metro train to take off and dealing with a friend who was in the midst of making a very bad, alcohol-induced decision.

It may be boring and predictable, but I like spending time with Basil and Petunia. And I like our new dog. I like spending time around the house, puttering in my little flower bed or making homemade soup or playing the piano.

I like getting together with friends for coffee or dinner. I like watching their kids or seeing their new home improvement project or hearing about their recent travels.

I even like sex in the missionary position.

So, yes, I am pretty vanilla most of the time. It's not like I'm never interested in doing anything new or different; it's just that I've built the life that I wanted, one step at a time, and I'm happy living it. In many ways, I'm a pretty stereotypical suburbanite wife and mother (though I will cut anyone who says that my Ford Freestyle is a minivan, because it's not), and I'm okay with that.

I love my friends who lead more exciting lives than me, the way that Charlotte and Miranda always appreciated Carrie and Samantha. I do make an effort to get out and do new things, if not for myself than for Petunia. Our experiences (visiting the city nature center, stopping for a donut at the Krispy Kreme shop, going to the library) may not be urbane or interesting enough to make the Weekend section, but we have fun anyway.

I've also learned to appreciate the daily routine we've got going, the simple joys in sitting down to dinner every night as a family and in holding hands as we walk down the brick sidewalk after church.

I realized today that I read the Weekend section to stay abreast of what's trendy and timely, to keep my mind fresh and to stay somewhat culturally aware. It's not about looking for things to do, because goodness knows that I don't have the time for much of anything new these days anyway. If I have a bit of free time, I usually end up doing something very pedestrian.

My life may not be exciting, but it makes me happy.

We Kept the H

...and we're keeping the dog. It's been an exhausting week and I've had some, "Holyfuckwhatdidwedo????" moments, but we are pretty happy with our Lilah girl.

She's a really sweet dog. REALLY sweet. She can never get enough affection or attention, it seems. The dog could lay all day long and have her chest/belly scratched. We try to play with her (tossing balls, squeaking furry stuffed animals) and she just comes over and sits down by us and starts licking and pawing for a good pet. Lilah is about the most people-oriented dog you've ever seen. Apparently, this is very typical for flat-coated retrievers.

Sometimes, she can be a little too exuberant. She loves to jump up and put both front paws on us in greeting, in excitement or whenever she wants more attention than she's getting. It's a little annoying to us, but it's particularly problematic with a two-and-a-half-year-old who can get knocked over by a 50-60 pound dog without much effort. And it's definitely a behavior that will be unacceptable for company, so it has to be nipped.

The good news is, Lilah is smart and eager to please. We are training her at every opportunity, and she is already showing signs of learning the OFF and SIT commands. Sometimes she will do DOWN too. We're also trying to teach her STOP (when she's giving Petunia more kisses than she's in the mood for) and to HEEL on walks. She also has a tendency to mouth our hands when we're petting her, but we are teaching her NO MOUTH by putting our hands behind our back, and she seems to be learning that one pretty quickly too. (The key to training her is apparently affection and praise. Take it away and she's upset; give it to her and she's in doggy heaven.)

We plan to take a six-week obedience class through our city recreation/parks department, starting in March, so hopefully that will reinforce the work that we've been doing and give us some tips. Otherwise, it's off to the pricey but reputable Olde Towne School for Dogs for private lessons, which are much more reasonable than their signature 'doggy day camp' program. While we've heard great things about the day camp, we just cannot get over the $1475 price tag. (Yes, that's correct. That's the cost for a three-week intensive course in which your dog goes to school four days a week for three weeks straight, and the experts at OTSD train the holy hell out of them.) Hopefully, the city course will give us what we need.

The bad news about Lilah being smart is that she has figured out when we are trying to get her into her crate for the morning or afternoon (Basil and I are currently taking turns going home and walking her at lunch). She does not like going in her crate. At first, we could get her in with treats or new chew toys, but now she's hip to our game and will just forego the goody in favor of staying out in the family room. Making her more comfortable with the crate is on our to-do list for this long holiday weekend.

Once we feel like we know her better and she's all settled in, we'd love to be able to leave her in part of the house for the day, like the kitchen or family room. But until we're confident that she's not a voracious chewer (which, so far, she does not seem to be) and doesn't get major separation anxiety when we're gone, we can't risk her causing thousands of dollars of damage to our kitchen cabinets or electronic equipment.

Lilah has a lot of energy outside the house but is fairly subdued inside. I mean, a lot of the time after work she is lying on the floor somewhere, dozing or chewing a bone. (Again, this is pretty typical for a flattie.) In the mornings, I've been taking her for a solid 2.5-3.0 mile power walk each morning, and she seems to love it. She loved all the snow we got over the weekend and spent the whole week leaping in and out of drifts. Last night, Petunia and I took her to the dog park for the first time, and she did great. We think she has some border collie in her because she was nipping at the heels of some of the other dogs she was chasing. Also, she kind of has a border collie butt. Thankfully, she does not seem to have any border collie personality or I swear to God we would be taking her back.

Lilah came to us housetrained, and she's done a great job transitioning. We've had a couple of little accidents, but nothing major and nothing that we haven't seen happen. So with some sturdy paper towels and a little bit of Nature's Miracle, all is well.

Petunia and I took her to the local PetSmart the other night, and it was fun. We got Lilah some Booda velvet bones, which she seems to love. Giving her something to chew each evening seems to be a good thing (while not a voracious chewer, I think she has a normal, healthy desire to chew and finding her a good outlet is important), and from what I've read about treats like Greenies and Nylabones, these velvet bones seem safer and easier on her stomach.

Anyway, it's totally an adventure, and while it's been a bit of a bleary-eyed blur (especially with Basil in Las Vegas since Wednesday after dinner), I'm happy we did it. Petunia takes great delight in seeing her dog first thing in the morning, and before school today Petunia got down on the floor and gave Lilah a giant hug around the neck. Given that part of the reason we decided to get a dog was for Petunia to have one as she grows up (the way Basil and I both did), I felt like we made the right decision and - so far - like we picked the right dog.

Oo-De-Lolly

For Christmas, Petunia got this corny book of Disney Christmas stories from a relative. (It's actually leather-bound, with the gold accents on the page edges, so God only knows how much they spent on it.) All the Disney movie headliners are set in new Christmastime stories, and the stories pretty much suck. Mickey's Christmas Carol has always been a good kids version of the Dickens tale, but all the others seem to be written in a hurry. They're shallow, they have flimsy plots and the whole point is juxtaposing famous characters with presents and Christmas trees. Cha-ching! Disney finds a new way to cash in on the holidays.

Anyway, the only thing that's good about it is that it's not all Princess stories. There are classic characters like Dumbo, Bambi, the Aristocats, Pinocchio, Winnie the Pooh and Lady and the Tramp. There are also some characters from newer movies like Tarzan, The Hunchback of Notre Dame and Toy Story. And so as we slowly slog our way through this book (why is it that kids like the crappy books from clueless relatives instead of the really clever, well-drawn ones that we buy on recommendation from the childrens booksellers?) we are introducing Petunia to new Disney characters.

I thought it would be fun to Netflix some of those older movies, especially the ones without scary villains, and show them to Petunia. First up? Robin Hood. It has been a long time since I've seen the animated version of this tale. I remembered that Robin was a fox, but beyond that, most of it had faded away.

Wow, is that movie from the 70s! Little John is a big, furry, jive-talkin' bear (why not just put him in blackface, too?), and the wandering minstrel rooster Allen-a-Dale narrates the whole thing with his guitar, singing folk music all the way. Robin and his merry men are totally off the grid in the forest, in a kind of commune, fending for themselves, bucking the law and challenging societal norms. You can practically hear the bad Tommy Chong look alike saying, 'Is that freedom rock man? Well, turn it up, man!'

Upon hearing some of the music, I remembered the tunes. 'Robin Hood and Little John walkin' thru the forest, laughing back and forth at what the other'ne has to say...oo-de-lolly, oo-de-lolly, golly what a day.'

But what struck me most is that the opening theme is the goddamn Hamster Dance!

Remember that internet phenomenon? From like 8 years ago? With the little hamsters bobbing up and down to the annoying song? The annoying song is actually a speeded-up version of Roger Miller's 'Whistle Stop,' which is the opening theme to Disney's Robin Hood. This may not be news to you, but my eyes widened and my mouth dropped while watching the beginning of the movie as, all of a sudden, the light bulb of recognition went off.

So that's my bit of recycled trivia for you, Internet, shared lovingly in the spirit of St. Valentine's Day. Have a happy one. Mine will be chocolate free because of the headache program, but we may splurge on some really decadent cheesecake for dessert.

PS-Life with the dog is good. I'll tell you all about it LATER.

Lilah

Well, we're doing it. We're getting a dog. After thinking and weighing and worrying, we decided to add a new member to our family.

And we have the dog all picked out.

She's a shelter dog, from a really nice non-profit in Loudon County, VA. She's about eight or nine months old, and probably 40-45 pounds. She's a beautiful flat-coated retriever mix (maybe her dad was some type of setter or spaniel?) with a feathery black coat and a long, slender face. She is the sweetest girl we met during our rainy, muddy visit to the shelter - always ready for a pet, rub or scratch. She gives great kisses, likes to nuzzle and seems to delight in being around people. She's got enough energy to accompany me on morning power walks or go hiking with the family, but not so much energy that we worry she will be bouncing off the walls all the time. And she was gentle with our Petunia.

It was a bit rough finding her, though. It's been awhile since I've been around lots of different dogs in quick succession and really noticed the various different types of dog personalities. We had four strikeouts (some were near-misses and others were WAAAY out there) before we found the dog we fell in love with.

Bachelor #1 was the guy we went to see, who had caught my eye online. Also a flat-coat, about 8 or 9 months old. He was SO! HAPPY! TO! SEE! US! This dog was pulling us along during our walk with seemingly boundless energy. We felt like our heels were skidding like a cartoon character. He was very sweet and affectionate but ready to go for a run at the drop of a hat. Oh, and he had just come back from being neutered that day! Can you imagine what he'd be like on a normal day? We couldn't. That dog needs two acres or someone who runs 5 miles a day. Not us.

Bachelorette #1 was a quiet lab mix who was very interested in walking but wasn't so interested in us. She was very nice and she seemed okay with people, but she was not affectionate. (Perhaps she was abused or something?) While we didn't have any worries that she would overwhlem us, she just wasn't the fit we were looking for.

Bachelor #2 was the most mellow dog we met all day. This little guy - some sort of lab mix with very short legs (maybe part Corgi?) - also had just returned from a doggy vasectomy, so maybe he was all spaced out on canine morphine or something. While he was sweet, he wasn't overly affecionate, and he definitely didn't have much energy. I wouldn't go so far as to call him a lap dog, but he was definitely not going for 3 mile walks with me in the morning.

Bachelorette #2 was Jekyll and Hyde. Literally. We had her on leash, and she was wonderful. Energetic and affectionate, a great walking companion, showed us all a lot of love. We were feeling a little excited about her. Then we took her in the off-leash area. BIG MISTAKE! This dog started nipping and jumping and then nipping harder and harder until I finally drew the line and said, 'Okay, this is someone's obedience training project, but not ours.' I have four sets of teethmark bruises on my left arm from our time in the yard with this lovely girl. One bruise is quite a doozy and my arm has been sore for three days now. Thank goodness she didn't break the skin.

We were nearing the end of the time we had to spend, and there was one dog left on our list. But the volunteers were conflicted as to whether she was really available. While we spent our time with the last of the also-ran's, the volunteers sorted out the status of our final contestant. Apparently, someone put in an application for the dog we wanted to see, but in the end couldn't come to pick her up in a timely manner. And as they weren't sure when they would be able to pick the dog up, the shelter had pulled their application.

So we got to meet the lovely lady who stole our hearts.

Her name is Reba right now, but apparently that's just a shelter name, given by the person that brought her in. We are planning to rechristen her Lilah, short for Delilah, which we felt was appropriate given that she will have a Rottweiler cousin in Florida named Samson.

We get to pick her up Saturday (assuming that we pass our home visit, which the volunteer said she expected us to do with flying colors), and we are so excited. It will be a big life change for sure, but one that we are ready to make as a family. I'm sure there will be a period of adjustment and some rough patches here and there, but we fully expect the positives to outweigh the negatives during the 10+ years we hope to have with lovely Lilah.

Musikarma

Nothing spells good karma like hitting a streak of songs you love on the radio. Driving to Petunia's daycare this morning, she and I were treated to 'Hey Ya!' by Outkast, followed by 'Never Tear Us Apart' by INXS.

Apparently, today is a good day.

(btw, whenever I say the phrase 'it is/was a good day' I have to fight the urge to spit out Ice Cube lyrics. Remember that song? My favorite line easily is 'No barkin from the dog, no smog/And momma cooked a breakfast with no hog.' How can you not crack up at that?)

Getting two good songs, back to back, on a single radio station is nothing short of a miracle these days. In surfing the other five music presets on our Ford Freestyle, every other station was blah-blah-blah talk or annoying commercials. Ick.

The unreliability of FM radio is part of the reason I got Basil Sirius satellite radio for his birthday in November. (The other part of the reason is because I am Best Wife in the World.) Basil was a college radio guy back in the day, and he can never get enough music. Buying CDs only feeds the beast for so long, because he continually wants something new. Satellite radio has been a godsend.

We move the radio unit from house to car (and Basil takes it into his office for daytime listening), and we listen to whatever we feel like (indie breakouts, classic R&B, pop hits, standards, 90s alternative). There's a channel for everything. And it's all commercial free. Now I'm not saying that we love every single song that ever makes it way out of our speakers, but it's nice to be able to browse by genre (or turn to the SuperShuffle or Spectrum stations for a grab bag) and at least not run into commercials.

And, honestly, I probably have listened to more new music in the past three months than I did the whole year prior. FM radio stations get in such a rut with songs. Sometimes I will be driving to a meeting and hear something that's 'hot,' only to hear the same damn song again on the same damn station when I'm driving home from the meeting two hours later.

Plus, there are all kinds of genres and songs that are just not FM-friendly. 80s hair band music? Kind of hard to pull off too much of it on commercial radio, but Sirius has a whole Hair Nation station for all your Poison, Def Leppard and GNR needs. Acoustic rock gets little attention on FM stations, but you can find a whole station of unplugged recuts on satellite.

Driving in the car without that little scrolling red LED display has become a bit flat. Either there's nothing on, or it's the same old crap. Which is why I felt so touched by an angel this morning to have such good luck - not once, but TWICE! In a row!

The best part was that Petunia loved both songs. She was dancing and wiggling away to 'Hey Ya!' and when 'Never Tear Us Apart' started, she said 'I like this song.' I was just happy she wasn't whining for some of her kiddie music and that she was smart enough to realize a miracle when it happens in her own ears.