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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. 

Blog

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.)

Dementia and the Creepy Guy

Healey

this is what he would have looked like 15 years ago.

It has been mentioned to me that I am in a crabby mood today. But I never listen to Yenny.

I have to note that my day did not launch successfully. While at the dog park this morning, a man I do not care for (we had a previous argument over the topic of Jon & Kate Plus 8) (Don’t judge me. It was over what the family got paid per episode. And he was obviously high. He said they make something like $200k per episode. I called bullshit. I mean I was working for TLC at the time of the argument  - but if they were making that kinda cash per episode we would not be hearing about their divorce. They would have stayed together FOREVER) so the idiot pulled up this morning to the dogpark. I was the only person there and groaned when I saw it was him. And then I turned around and had a little tete’a’tete with myself saying that I should let bygones be bygones. He was probably just a nice, lonely, freakishly creepy looking dog lover and should be afforded a second chance conversationally.

So he came into the park and I greeted him from a distance with a cheery “good morning”. He returned the greeting and proceeded to walk right up to me and fart loudly.

<blink>

wtf man? Did you hold that in until you got to me? You asshole.

I tried to move past this incident. He kept right on chatting about dogs, dog parks and the weather. The normal conversational fare at the park. As I surveyed his outfit and judged the dates they would have most likely seen a machine with a rinse cycle, he kept pushing on and on about some dog park in Pasadena MD. Did I know the place? No, I answered. But I was secure in my level of plausibility that it existed. He could move on now. But no. He kept struggling to give me names of streets that it was adjacent to. Streets in an area in which I had already told him twice I was not familiar with. Please move on with your story. No. He was bound and determined that the area was within my GPS knowledge bank.

This went on for another solid four minutes. I hate him. So naturally I just lied to him and said ‘yes’. I know exactly the place of which you speak. He then asked me if I knew the name of the pizza place next to that park. I hate you – are you doing this as revenge for the Jon and Kate argument we had? This is an infuriating conversation and I want you removed from Earth immediately. PLUS – why would a man wearing three pieces of Papa John’s emblazoned clothing want to know the information about another pizza place. My inner detective hates you too.

So I just left the park. I mean beyond the irritating conversation that had not ultimate goal – he farted on me.

Subject change [thinking about that man is not improving my mood so I will change topics]. Yenny has suggested that I write about what I am making for dinner since she was with me at the dog wash shop about an hour ago when I read about it in the paper and pointed out the picture to her. I think this is a way to nudge me into hurrying up and making dinner for the house. But that is just negative thinking <right>. I am making this for dinner Shells with Peas, Ricotta and Basil – and I will be adding strips of chicken because we are carnivores here at Crofton Manor and a meal w/ out a meat is an appetizer.

Actually – something that has been on my mind all day is that an old friend from Michigan, Shannon Graham (the most talented person I ever met) (it’s really sickening) wrote me on Facebook today asking if I remembered a time when we were at my parents house in their bizarre master bath drinking beers. I believe that ‘this too’ is a plausible story…but I have no recollection of that instance. Is it possible I have amnesia? How many fun things have I done that I don’t remember? If there is anything I want to remember it’s the fun stuff. And she was/is hilarious so I imagine it was a good time. Maybe I need to go back to sleep and start the day over again.

Yenny is reminding me that before I do that – there is the pasta dinner to consider. I think my boyfriend is in the basement sawing something. Maybe I just need a large glass of wine. That’s it.

If people remember fun stories that I was involved in – please remind me of them. My dementia is saddening.