singlegirl's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Drunk Hotdog Clyde is so sweet. He�s a licker. He also likes me better than Jeremy and that makes me happy. Jeremy will say, �Clyde, come!� and Clyde will come to me instead of him. He�ll warm up to Jeremy eventually, but for now, I�m enjoying it. He is so smart too. Once he learns the basics (in the last 2 days he learned upstairs, downstairs and inside), I am going to teach him to do fun things (like fetch me a beer). He had his last puppy shot today and the doctor told me that she is almost certain that he is a Rotweiller/Labrador mix. That to me sounds much nicer than Doberman/Rotweiller/Chow mix. People are also always stopping me to tell me how gorgeous he is. That makes me so proud for some reason. I forgot my camera today, but I�ll promise I will show pictures. *** So Halloween. Jeremy and I got our costumes last night. I bought a Rastafarian costume � tie dye t-shirt, sunglasses, Rastafarian hat and dreads. I called a few people to make sure it wasn�t a degrading costume. Everyone laughed at me and told me I was being ridiculous, but I just wasn�t sure. I liked it because it was cheap, easy and I could keep warm. Jeremy, on the other hand, bought a giant hotdog suit. I�m not kidding. It�s going to be funny...my group of friends have been talking about someone dressing like a giant hotdog for years. It�s an inside joke. Unfortunately, Jeremy decided that the hotdog costume was too hot and now he wants to be the Rastafarian (reason # 456677 to lose weight: you and your boyfriend will not be able to share clothes, which will then result in avoiding having to dress up like a hot dog for Halloween). Luckily for me, the hotdog costume is a little too big, but I bet we can fix it by stuffing the top with newspaper or something. Yes, regardless of who ends up in the hotdog suit, I will take pictures. *** Jeremy and I are going to our Halloween party Friday night and we�re going to spend the night at my parent�s house (the party is minutes from my parent�s house). My mom is going to dog sit Clyde (and see how he interacts with my puppy, Reggie) and Jeremy and I were planning on going to my parent�s house at 9 am on Saturday to help move furniture (what exciting lives we lead), so it�s more convenient for us. The strange part is that my mom told me that she didn�t care if Jeremy and I slept in the same bed (my dad is out of town, by the way). Last time I lived at home, boys weren�t even allowed in my bedroom. I guess I AM almost 30 now. It�s just weird. A drunk hotdog and Rastafarian will be stumbling home in the middle of the night and crashing in my older brother�s bed. The last time I partied at a house close to my parent�s, Jeremy and I ran out of beer. We went to my parent�s house, rang the doorbell, held open our empty cooler and said, �Trick or Treat. We need beer.� Sadly, that was just a few months ago. *** Anyone else slightly freaked out by the Bird Flu? 2:50 p.m. - October 26, 2005 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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