Yesterday, I saw a dog walking himself.
Dio and I were heading out to grab some food before Extreme Home Makeover started. I get into his car and I happened to look over to the sidewalk. A large, Lab/Pitt mix was walking by his lonesome down the street, with his own leash in his mouth. Happy as could be. I don't know why this struck me as so funny, but I giggled all the way down the street.
Damn it! I had some really cute photos from this weekend to display, but I must have erased them off my camera when I uploaded them to our computer at home. I'll have to e-mail them to myself so I can post them tomorrow. You know what, screw it. I'll post this tomorrow. Nothing note-worthy is going to happen to me tonight anyway.
As I type, the 2,530 songs on my iTunes are loading into my new 20GB iPod. It almost makes me excited to workout today. Almost. I even bought her a pretty blue leather outfit so she won't get all scratched up like my last iPod.
An hour ago, I was out picking up my new best friend today at the CDW Warehouse (shout out to ex-neighbor for getting me a good price on her!) I was innocently walking down Ontario Avenue when I crossed a parking lot driveway. A man was trying to pull in, so I sped up my pace a bit. Some fuckstain behind him started honking repeatedly. Now, what the hell? Is there a need for that behavior? Is this guy's time SO IMPORTANT that he can't spare a few seconds to allow the person in front of him to make a left turn?
I shot him a dirty look, and the next thing I know, he is flipping me off! My mouth dropped open and I stood glued to the sidewalk. Adrenaline surged through my freezing body and I had to fight the urge to run after his car and shatter the driver side window with my fists of fury.
How dare this jack ass? First, he was being rude and impatient. Second, he felt the need to flip me off, ME, the innocent bystander. Yeah, I gave him a a dirty look. But give me a break.
I kept walking, the blood slowly draining from my face. And I thought about this man. My anger and indignation quickly turned to pity. I bet this miserable man has a miserable life. He was driving some Buick Skylark looking car. He was in his 50s. Fat. Had a huge grimace on his face. Maybe when he looked at me, he saw his squandered youth. He saw a wasted life filled with anger and regret. He saw the type of woman he'd never be able to be with (not to be a bitch, but he started it!)
I am very quick to anger, but I am also very quick to forgive and forget. I forgive you, angry, old, fat flipper-offer. I bet all you have to go home to is a run-down apartment over up in Roger's Park and a quarter bottle of Jack. So sleep tight tonight. Tomorrow is another day.
Ok, it is Tuesday now. Not updating yesterday has thrown me all off. And wouldn't you know it? I forgot my CD with the pictures I wanted to post at home. Damn me. So, I'll get those up tomorrow.
I have spent the last 40 minutes looking on Metromix for an Irish sports bar that my crew and I can go to on Thursday. I have a feeling everywhere is going to be packed to the gills with drunk frat boys and prissy Trixie bitches. As long as I have a seat and a waitress, I can roll.
Just downloaded Keane's album today, since my luxurious 20GB iPod affords me the space to do so. I have 3,000 songs to go to fill it. Any suggestions?
So I guess I'll be updating tomorrow as well. Aw, sookie sookie naw!
Brooke, leave me your e-mail address in the comments section. I am planning something and I need it.