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Crofton, MD, 21114

A long-running personal blog shared by two authors with completely different approaches to life. And a lot of large, beautiful photographs of dogs and nature and places we've traveled to. Rich in commentary and irreverant in style. 



We started blogging a long time ago. Our work hours never aligned with recommended psychotherapists and we needed to get our thoughts out. We are great friends, total opposites and long-time housemates. This was a way to communicate. With each other. With strangers. With consumer marketers. With sub-par meteorologists. With distant friends who wanted to see pictures of stuff we were up to.

This is the place. Our bucket of thoughts to share. You are welcome. 
(We realize that most of you are here for the dog pictures.)

SnapChat is Hard.


This is me and my filters. :D

This is me and my filters. :D

A few weeks ago my nieces taught me to SnapChat. They said it was how they would talk to me because I asked them why they stopped texting me and they told me nobody texted anymore.  They all SnapChat.  They are 10 and 8.  Yes, I am officially the old fogey. 

So as the good aunt, I learned how to use selfie filters and make videos and am now a SnapChatter. I don't understand it, but I amuse myself with stupid selfies.

Then last week I read an article in the Wall Street Journal about SnapChat Streaks.  SnapStreaks.  THE WALL STREET FREAKING JOURNAL was writing about SnapChat.  I had to do it right? It's a metric and was in The Journal.  How hard would it be to write someone everyday in an app.  I Google Chat and text people everyday, it's one more mode of communication.  I can do this, people have streaks of 200-300 days.

It has now been three days since I've attempted to do a streak and I have failed twice.  Does one day count as a streak?  Because it better.  I don't have anything longer than that so far... I am getting better at the selfie filters though. 


My Neighborhood is Perfect


Earlier today we had a family meeting where we trash-talked some of the neighbors. Honesty is an important quality. We are really good at it here because we practice it a LOT. Loudly.

The neighborhood family we are focusing on this week are a bag of idiots. They put out a post-apocolyptic charcoal grill for the trash pickup about 3 weeks ago and it is still there. Why? Why is it still there? Because the trash people don’t pick up grills. It’s a thing. People KNOW that. It's like 'not swallowing the toothpaste.' Sanitation engineers also do not pick up large metal or plastic items. There is a big plastic tub sitting next to the stupid grill. 

We decided to be the bigger people and go sort the situation out. I get REALLY irritable when I have to look at other people’s ugly shit. So, this had to be done. We also decided to bring out trash bags incase we happen upon additional trash. Like the trash that seems to be cascading out of those asshats home and on to the communal landscaping on a regular basis. Hate them. They should be dead from the lack of nutrition evident in their litter.

We cunningly moved their stupid grill to another neighbors trash collection. Trash pickup is tomorrow. The other neighbors would not like that this happened but they made the mistake of going to the beach. I promise to learn the beach neighbors names again when they come back. I don’t know what my problem is - they have lived there for 8 years and still I go blank on their names. I just remember that their youngest kid - the one that hits trees with sticks to destress - has an Irish mafia IRA name. #signs

I’m about 98% sure that the garbage men are going to be like “oh look, someone has moved all the old non-sorted ghetto trash from that curb to this curb. Isn’t that adorable?” And gleefully leave the shit right where it is while jumping back on to the truck all dancy-dance Gene Kelly style. 

Rejection is so cold. 

Okay it hasn’t happened yet - but I BET YOU it will.

After dealing with shit-that-is-not-my-fault and for-which-I-should-not-have-to-witness-or-deal-with … we went around the neighborhood picking up scattered trash like some weird religious group on a merit badge quest. 

This is the fault of David Sedaris, of course.

Incidentally he got a trash truck named after him. I suspect he had some influence on the final name.

Yenny won the ‘most interesting find’ award in our garbage picking. Here we were thinking that we lived in this quaint little village, with the parades and the flags and the generous sidewalks for the walking of dogs. Yenny finds (and oddly reads) this trash.

So I looked it up on the internet, as you do... and they directed me to who gave me slightly more disturbing information.

NOTE: At first glance I read this section to be "Intimate Apparel & Accessories" (I am still twitching from that horror). I also took a nano-second to be all like "Jesus- even prisoners have better undergarments than I do." Then back to twitching again. Then I read it correctly. 

So yeah, Yenny won most interesting trash find for like the DECADE. And now none of us will be sleeping very soundly. Where the heck do I live that I have this kind of trash? sheesh. You probably have this in your neighborhood and don't know it. And probably worse stuff, too. :) g'night!