Sad Day

I'm one of those really annoying people who loves animals more than grody babies and kids. The Boy has to cover my eyes when we watch TV/movies if there is any hurting, mutilation, killing, etc., of animals. I cannot watch that Sarah McLachlan commercial about all those poor abused animals out there because they SHOW THEM. That poor one with the burns, geez. I want to kill people who do that shit. Discovery Animal Channel? Forget it. I have thousands of pictures of the cats, and I snuggle them, and give them kisses and licks, and talk some serious baby-talk to them. They will live forever and never die, you got that? Understand.

And why I'm so annoying is I totally eat meat. Yes, I hate myself for it, don't worry. I could probably give up meat rather easily--beside that occasional yearning for bacon, but I can't give up cheese, milk and eggs. If I am going to eat those items, then I feel that is just as bad as eating meat. I'm not going to be a half-ass vegetarian (sorry Boy and Wikus!). It's either all the way or not at all. No more puddings, flan, pizza, cheese in my burritos and breakfast taco? FUCK YOU! There's no way I can do that.

So, yes, I love animals to the point of vomiting at the thought of dead pets, and I eat meat. Very lame.

This morning I received a text message at work from my boss at 7am saying her dog had died. We'd been expecting this, but fuck, it was still hard to hear. I've never even met this dog, but my heart still felt ripped out and trampled. I also really like my boss, and I wanted to bring her dog back to life and bestow immortality on him like I have done with my cats (seriously, they will never ever fucking die, ever!). She's in a pretty high position so she can't just call out for the day because her dog died. She grieved in text message, on the phone and in person. I sat and listened each time with nods of sympathy, and doing everything to hold my tears and not vomit on my desk.

This has me all depressed since I constantly think about my 19-year-old cat dying (which is stupid since he NEVER EVER WILL). He's sitting next to me right now, purring against my toes. He may pee on everything, but he is still my little orange lover. Yet, I do think of his death, and I think about this time when I was living in San Diego. I did not have a car and had to walk everywhere. It was always chilly and not very pleasant for me. One afternoon, I was walking and saw a chow tied to a chain-linked fence outside of some commercial building. There were no houses around, complete commercial zone. I sensed something was wrong from blocks away. I should have crossed the street, but I didn't. I had to walk right by that poor fellow, tied to the fence with a dirty piece of frayed rope. He was sitting up but his head was done, his tongue stuck to the sidewalk. Obviously died of dehydration. Outside a fucking commercial building and no one noticed. No one cared about this chow. I cried and cried, yet there was nothing for me to do. I have that image of that poor dog and his tongue seared in to my brain. You need me to cry instantly? Talk about my cats dying or that chow. Or make me watch Sarah McLachlan and all those other abused animals. Or really, just watching Sarah McLachlan may do it.

In other news of a more random and amusing note:

• At a doctor's appointment this afternoon, one of the patient's name was Nevil (Neville?). When his name was called, I sort of jumped in surprise. He was cute from the waist down, but a bit of a shame going upward. Nice skinny black jeans, but a horror show of a shirt and his face seemed to have fallen in to his neck. Anyway, his name was Nevil! How awesome is that. He looked like he was 19, and his accent was totally not foreign, yet his name was Nevil! Thrilling.
• My doctor's office is on the same floor as a cardiology group I used to work for. While waiting for the elevator, I spied a poster for the upcoming Heart Walk. Since I had Wikus once design something for the Heart Walk event, I wanted to see what this Heart Walk poster looked like (and the elevator was taking its time). Seems my old job was going to raise some money by having a bake sale. It was a very simple poster, total MicrosoftWord clip-art crap. And what was that clip art? Fucking cookies, cupcakes, bon-bons, various dessert pastries, etc. I am so glad to not be associated with them anymore. Hi, we're cardiologist, we haven't yet figured out the connection between nutrition and the heart. Please have some cake, and don't feel bad that your money is being donated to other people with heart problems. Irony don't fail me now. I immediately called my favorite ex-coworker, and had a good chuckle with her. But since she has a real job, she couldn't laugh with me for long. Bitch.
• Tyra Banks is complaining right now that her left boob is bigger than her right, and that is sags more. She recognized that her audience member's question was not about her, but still, she wanted to get it out there about her saggy, larger left boob. My left boob is also bigger, but it isn't saggy. Take that Tyra. Also, Tyra kept patting at one of her audience member's ass, telling her that her "booty looks good." Is it wrong that I secretly want Tyra to validate my ass in that way?
• The Boy is so awesome, he went to get us dinner and understands why I'm so sad today. I am grateful that he understands my weird sensitive self.
• Lastly, not as amusing, but some dude on NPR today from the Washington Independent (Dan Wygle?) said that Obama has 400 times the death threats that George W. Bush had. What the fuck? No really, someone tell me, WHAT THE FUCK? Maybe it was 400 times, but 400 more. I was driving in the rain, so only half-listening. Anyway, still the same question applies.