Beethoven

So I'm sitting on the couch at Matt's house editing Meg's hilarious Bachelor recap and Matt is on the couch opposite of me next to two dogs who are probably fighting.

We have a record playing in the background because we are either hipsters or we're 75 years old (we are 75 years old. The record is Beethoven's Fifth Symphony, which is the only record collection Matt actually has in the house).

And suddenly Matt offered, without even looking up, "my first girlfriend broke up with me because of Beethoven."

Strangerville Live Panics

I can't remember if I mentioned this, but we did a show last week called Strangerville Live.

You guys. That was a joke. I made a joke about the fact that I have mentioned that. Like, 1,000 times now. Awesomesauciness has had 30 dreams about Strangerville Live and some of you accidentally wrote it in as your choice of candidate for several mayoral elections because I've mentioned it so many times.

I am so good at jokes. And at explaining them.

The show was a smashing success ifwedosaysoourselves. Because you've read stuff on Stranger before, it is likely not a surprise to any of you that a series of near nervous breakdowns preceded Strangerville Live, occurring every 5 to 10 minutes throughout the week leading up to 8:00 PM on Thursday.

We wanted this to go perfectly. Flawlessly. Elihairlessly.

And so, when we discovered 45 minutes before the start of the show that the sound system was having some problems, and as nearly 200 people started funneling in and filling the nearly 200 seats, you can imagine the number of anti-anxiety pills that would have been helpful. And when, five minutes before the start of the show, the sound system was still not working, I may or may not have actually googled "witness protection program."

The Duncan Doodle School of Potty Training

In case you didn't see this incredibly important video I shared as a part of Monday's Episode 13 post, I'm including it below.

To say that we are excited/terrified about Strangerville Live's inaugural show on Thursday is an understatement. I'm pretty sure our contact at the venue is nearly ready to get a restraining order against us. Which would be her loss because I accidentally spilled linen-scented soap into my gym bag on Sunday so now I smell like a fresh summer breeze.

But seriously. If you are debating whether or not to come, just let yourself win the debate and get your tickets. We'll do everything we can, up to and including foot massages, to make it worth your while.

Episode 13: The World of Courage

Y'all. I'm choosing this one time in my whole life to just actually say "y'all." Because this is important. I've been saving up my once-in-a-lifetime use of that word for this moment.

Strangerville Live is somehow only a few days away. Jolyn put together this very informational video to prove it.

Obviously I'm working hard to put together my act. If you have any other suggestions of things I should incorporate into it, you better speak up now because we are running out of time.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

I have positive news on the potty training front. We seemed to have reached some sort of milestone. No accidents in the last 6 days. And Mr. Duncan Doodle is doing pretty well too!

I have been taking him out, sometimes in the middle of the night, chanting the word "potty" in a cult-like voice as he goes so he'll associate the word with the action and do it on command, something I, for one, cannot do myself. Because this seems to have worked and he now immediately stops playing and does his business when I say this word, I have to be very careful not to say it in the house. I've been whispering it through this entire post because he's curled up in a ball next to me and I'm not sure if he's sleeping.

The point is, I think Mr. Duncan Doodle is well on his way to being potty trained, and I may be on my way to getting some sanity back.

In other news, if you aren't following Mr. Doodle on Instagram, you are unAmerican. He's doing vlogs on there now and they are very informative.

And now, your Puppies Pictures & Distractions:

Snuggles.

A Miscommunication with Herminda

Considering that I already communicate with Herminda at about 7% mutual comprehension (generous), it was probably not the best idea to up and complicate my life through what is turning out to be major construction and the introduction of yet another animal.

On Herminda Day (better than Christmas), Herminda usually arrives around 8:00 AM. I'm typically gone by then, and she's typically gone by the time I get home from work, so it sort of feels like magic cleaned my house. But, like, magic that costs money. And doesn't speak English. And sometimes puts spatulas under the bathroom sink.

But last week I felt like I needed to greet Herminda when she arrived so I could explain why my life is such a mess right now.

I had practiced saying "I have a new dog" in Spanish, using a full 22% of the words I remember from watching Sesame Street in the 80s. And I delivered this phrase with aplomb.

And then Herminda yelled out, "DONDE ESTA OLLIE!?"

Ollie was not at my house. He very frequently is on Herminda Day because Herminda loves Ollie so I tend to keep him on Herminda Days so they can hang out. Ollie hates Herminda because he's racist and ageist and probably sexist. But we've already discussed that at length.

Tim the Contractor

When I bought my house two years ago one of the first things I noticed about it was that the seller was, shall we say, a bit generous with a few of the listing details. For example, the listing said there were four bedrooms.

To be fair, I've lived in the place for 26 months now and I'm still not really sure how many bedrooms there are. There's the space where I put my bed. It's an add-on to the house from 1952 and it has 7-foot sloping ceilings and a light switch that is so inconveniently placed that you actually have to do yoga just to reach it.

Then there's this other room that you have to walk through to get to that first one. I still have no idea what to do with this room. It's currently strewn with dog toys and furniture that couldn't fit anywhere else.

Then there's another 1952 add-on room that has no closet and is somehow colder than it is outside during the winter because they decided that insulation wasn't really all that important when they built it.

And finally, there's a room in the basement that some of my friends have critically referred to as "the sex dungeon" because there are exposed pipes, one exposed light bulb in the center of the room, and for a while, just a mattress on the floor. The mattress situation happened because the stairway to get to the basement was dug out by prisoners trying to escape Azkaban, so you can't get anything larger than Trixy Meowman down there.

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

I went to the vet the other day so Mr. Duncan Doodle could get some shots (I still have no idea what they were) and the vet told me that the reason Mr. Doodle goes potty in my house (0 days without an accident--I have a chalkboard and everything) is because I give him too much freedom. And I was like, "oh I'm sorry. THAT I LOVE ANIMALS SO MUCH AND WANT THEM TO HAVE A HAPPY LIFE." And the vet was like, "Mr. Doodle will not have a happy life if he's trying to live in your house without rules."

Then he told me that Mr. Doodle needs to be either in my arms, in his kennel, or on a leash whenever he's in the house until he has gone FOUR WEEKS without an accident.

You guys. FOUR WEEKS. That is an amount of time that I'm actually afraid of. I feel like when Matt sent me the pathetic rescue picture of Mr. Doodle and guilted me into saving him he forgot to mention that for at least four weeks I wouldn't have any semblance of peace in my life.

But oh my gosh. Because take at look at these Pictures & Distractions:

I Am Legend

Skylar, looking like a hipster on our weekend snowshoeing excursion during which we had the below conversation.

Eli: What would you do if you had an I Am Legend situation and you suddenly woke up one morning and had the whole world to yourself?

Skylar: Are there zombies?

Eli: No. No zombies. Just all of the people have disappeared and the whole world is yours.

Skylar: Suicide pill.

Texts With Zealous

A wrong-number text handled the right way by Stranger Connor:

Pictures from my Phone & Weekly Distractions

So Neil Gorsuch's name was put forward as a SCOTUS nominee this week and this has caused me all sorts of PTSD because you may remember that in November I wrote about arguing an Eighth Amendment case at the Tenth Circuit. Well, Judge Gorsuch was on my judging panel and I have traumatic memories of fighting with him about something I didn't think would be an issue for the first seven minutes of my argument.

I immediately texted Rebecca, who was in attendance that day, to see if she had heard the news. She responded, as any supportive friend would, "I can't believe you were beat up by a future Supreme Court justice!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

I don't love her characterization of the fight's outcome, but it does make me sound slightly bad ass.

And now, your Pictures & Distractions:

Mr. Duncan Doodle sleeps a lot.