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You know something that’s true? I do. Just one thing. Looking forward to something is better than when it eventually arrives. And I’m not talking about you waiting to find out the one true thing that I know, because that last sentence was it. Yea, the one that begins “Looking forward to something” and ends with “is better than when it eventually arrives” that’s the one. Oh dear me, I reckon I’m stuck in the habit of  blabbing to try  to achieve my word minimum for school work. Guess that means I can stop quoting myself.

Well. Since we last spoke (I think that was when you told me about your boyfriend’s odd use of adhesive products, Aunt Maude, and thanks again for volunteering to be my blog reader. They say one devoted audience member is all you need to keep your thoughts relevant) I was cast in the Vagina Monologues! My parents call them the Virginia Monologues, or just ‘the play’. So if you’re not comfortable saying the medical term for a body part, I completely understand.

Don’t get upset, but ‘the play’ went up last weekend. I know! No notice! But it went amazingly. My monologue was “Reclaiming Cunt” and I wore a cape and a yellow scarf tied around my head. The cape was worn in the traditional cape fashion, only the scarf was tied around my head. I realize that I could have simply reworded that sentence instead of writing all of these subsequent words. But then I wouldn’t have had the chance to use the word subsequent! You understand.

Since I didn’t really have a character at all for my short monologue, I made up a crazy one. I learned heaps about myself, I must say, as cheesy as it sounds, and as good as cheese sounds. I realized that my awkwardness and insecurities pretty much vanish when I take on the role of another character. Anyone but myself. Because if it’s not me, then I can do whatever I want, whatever feels right – it’s not me who will be embarrassed, I’m just playing this character! Grossly elementary discovery, yes, but inspiring nonetheless.

One thing that I did not expect was the way it got so many people’s gears turning about the issues it brought up and other related (or unrelated, depending on your level of intoxication while being exposed to it) dilemmas and quandaries. I had some riveting discussions afterwards and saw the barricades in people’s minds crumble more and more, until they were able to think about things that they had not allowed themselves to consider.

I hope you’re down-wind so you can catch my drift. Sorry if it’s stanky. There was a burrito bar tonight in one of the dorm dining halls. But I got salad. There were brownies for dessert. Their new recipe is great. Moist.

If you haven’t seen the Vagina Monologues you should. Don’t listen to penis-bearing men who say that it’s about ‘women whining about their period’ because that is false and vagina’s rule.

I would be okay with this becoming a well-known, widely-used meme picture for the witty people of the internet to write big, white block letters over.

If your religion only allows you to read women’s college topics and such, steer clear.

Gonna hit that rewind button that’s covered in marinara sauce & all natural peanut butter for a second and tell you about Milo.

I’ve been begging my mom for a dog for about a year. I should clarify, we have a dog, my favorite pup in the world, Homer.  He just turned 13 and we’ve had him since he was 6 weeks old. But being the greedy, unsatisfiable poop I am, I want another.

Such a preshie-weshi! just wook at that missing tooth.

Since he’s an old man now, he’s mostly blind and losing his hearing and I thought a companion would cheer him up and comfort him. I was half right.

We got him a harness recently so we can steer him more efficiently when we go on walks:

so fancy in his tux.

Anyhoozers – I beg, beg, beggity begged and FINALLY (and rather surprisingly) both ma + pa conceded at the end of last summer.  We visited countless animal shelters and rescues, never falling in love, never finding a perfect fit, always leaving feeling defeated, our hands sticky with the slobbery kisses of homeless pups.

Then, by the grace of whomever governs the universe, we found Milo.

10 months old, rescued from an abandoned house with doody on the floor and trash bags full of cut up dogs (serious), all part of a nasty cruelty case that may or may not show up on Animal Planet one day (probably not).  He had lived there for the first 6 months of his life with his mom and fellow adorable puppy litter mates.  But the real reason we chose him was because the shelter had named him ‘Giggles’ and that right there, that was the real tear-jerker.

Now he’s part of our family but I never get to see him because I’m at college! HAH! what was i thinking…..

So they’re brothers now. I throw up from cuteness overload quite a bit.

I probably lost all of the non-animal-lovers a while back… but I’ll make a connection to the overarching theme of my blog just for the sake of it now:

Any dog walked on MHC campus will get more attention from the students than a limping zebra gets from lionesses on the hunt for dinner.  I hope that didn’t sound wrong.  The dogs get pet a lot is all I was going for.  This is usually how it goes:

‘AW! What a cute puppy dog! Can I pet your puppy dog?’

‘She’s fifteen but yea sure’

‘Thanks! awww! I miss my puppy dog! What’s this one’s name? Mine’s name is Carta, like the Magna Carta. She’s brown and has one white paw! She loves swimming at our lake house in Maine.  She chewed up my camera case but I forgave her..’

‘Uh…This is Bison, see you later’

‘AW! Okay, bye Bison! If you ever need a dog walker…’

So much enthusiasm.  So much discomfort.

I’ll leave you with an aerial view of big and little brother:

(oof, tough angle Homer, sorry about that)

Tweeter Twats

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