Traveling on business and I almost missed my plane because the car that was coming to pick me up hit a curb and blew a tire out on the Lynnway. I actually had to run through the airport like O.J. Simpson. Luckily, the terror alert against 30-something brown-haired chicks appears to have been lifted. For the first time in forever I wasn't pulled out of line for the special wand treatment. Once past the security check I gambled on right ... but should have gone left. When I finally found my gate they were almost done boarding. I was the last one to board the plane. It was kind of exciting -- a little, I imagine, like being on the Amazing Race. Sadly, I am nowhere interesting, location-wise. Nope, just stuck in the middle of Borelando, Florida, spending $8 on a bottle of water and missing my little dog. Then again, I didn't have to search for the clue to my next destination amidst a pile of goat shit or bungee jump off the Great Wall of China or eat monkey lips. So, you know, it all kind of evens out in the end.

People in glass doghouses ...

Maybe as a result of the bullying described in yesterday's post, my dog went berserk yesterday at work. Jumped the barrier across my office door and ran pell mell down the hallway, barking and growling at another dog who was totally minding his own business. Didn't come when I called her from a distance, although when I got closer she did let me grab her. She picked the one dog in the building that's smaller than her, too -- an adorable little chihuahua. I apologized profusely to my co-worker (luckily she was extraordinarily cool about it; I'm afraid and embarrassed to run into any of the people who came running out of their offices to see what the ruckus was about) and immediately called the local Pet Smart.

The dog and I will be taking remedial obedience lessons.

You can take this quiz to test your dog training IQ and this one to see if your dog needs obedience lessons, too. I got five out of five correct on the first test. Didn't do so great on the second one, though. Depending on how much I fudged the answers (does "sometimes" count as a yes or a no? What about "when she feels like it?"), she either needs another beginner class or an intermediate one.

This is what I get for complaining about people who can't control their dogs.

Beltie wins battle of brains vs. brawn

See, if you have one of those dog breeds that has a bad reputation and if your big stupid pit bill chases my sweet little beltie and tries to bite her neck in a totally non-playful way and if your dog doesn't back off when my dog stops, bares her teeth and growls and if your dog doesn't come when you call it and doesn't stay or sit when you tell it to, then you probably shouldn't have your dog off-lead at the beach. And you should not be surprised if I drop a couple of f-bombs on you, either.

And by the way you don't win any points when you say, by way of explanation as I carry my dog off the beach (after she leaped into my arms to get away from your crazy dog who then continued to jump and lunge at her and, by extension, me): "He's not out of control, he just doesn't listen to anything I say."


Also: Photographic proof that my dog is cuter than yours.
43 more reasons my dog is cuter than yours.
Other people who think my dog is cute.

Things no one wants to see at work

I was in Stop & Shop last weekend and this skinny white boy was stocking the packaged mixed salad greens and the only thing between me and the skinny white boy's ass was a thin piece of gray cotton.

I couldn't stop myself. It just kind of slipped out.

"Pull your pants up," I said.

"What?" he said.

"I said, '"PULL YOUR PANTS UP."'

He laughed and said "sorry" and tugged half-heartedly at his pants. I'm sure as soon as I turned the corner his gray cotton undies were once again on display to the world and his jeans sagging somewhere around his knee caps.

I can't think of anything else that would actually compell me to scold a perfect stranger in the produce section of the grocery store. (Well, there was that one time that the kid in the produce section sneezed all over his hands and then just kept on arranging apples in a pyramid. But even then all I did was give him a dirty look.)

Then a few days ago I was walking down the hall at work and found myself confronted once again with the underwear of a dude whose underwear I very seriously had no interest in seeing. I refrained from saying anything. But I was sorely tempted.

Seriously, I know this is not new -- that plenty of people have complained about this so-called fashion statement before me. But when did it become OK to wear pants so low everyone can see your underwear at work?

We have a pretty casual dress policy here, since we don't usually come into direct contact with the public, and, admittedly, there's nothing in the employee handbook that suggests you can't come to work in your underpants.

But I'm pretty sure that's because it should go without saying.


When I described him as "clean" I just meant he doesn't smell bad

The downside of working with wordies? They don't let you get away with anything. One little slip of the tongue and they jump all over you like the Boston bomb squad on a Lite Brite Mooninite.

I got called out yesterday when I said this: "Dude, you never update your blog any more -- and I faithfully check it for updates every few weeks or so." Apparently every few weeks "or so" is not actually faithful.

I also may or may not have referred to someone as being "doubly handicapped" because they are kind of short and very pregnant. Yeah, that one didn't go over well. Meanwhile, all I meant was that she can't walk as quickly as normal people can. Not that she's not normal.

Oh, never mind.

Of course, I try to give as good as I get. I recently sent someone in the company a note suggesting she correct the possessive apostrophe error in her email signature. Seriously, what kind of an ass does that? An editor ass, that's who. But I only did this after she told me that it would be so nice to be an editor and "read all day long" for a living. C'mon, now--editors do a lot more than read all day long. Sometimes they update their blogs!

What the hell is that thing, anyway?

Sorry, but I have no idea where this came from originally, so I'm not giving anyone credit. (And I'm certainly not going to say where it came from today, especially since we were supposed to be working.) I almost peed my pants when I saw it, though.

OK, there was no almost about it. But that's because I drank 81.8 ounces of water today. (It's a WW thing, I'll tell you about it later.)

And I'm not writing about this stupid marketing ploy (except to say please note that I didn't call it a hoax) because I promised myself I wouldn't.

Anyway, there's wall-to-wall coverage of the Mooninites over at Universal Hub.