Yeah, I know it's April 15 people, I have a calendar!

Ugh, the one thing worst then the appointment I have with my accountant this afternoon is that April 15th is always the 6 month marker to my next birthday.  I am not sure when they went from celebration to dread, but it happened somewhere along the way.  This is the home stretch from my late, very late, thirties into the land where I am supposed to have more accomplished than I do.  The lovely land of forty.  

One of my friends turned 40 last year in June and apparently wasn't ready.  She approached me about glomming onto my birthday in October so we could turn 40 together.  Although I am not entirely sure that I am ready - we do have this deal.  Had I been thinking more clearly I am sure I would have asked for an extension.  Much like the one I am going to ask the IRS for today.  But longer and less expensive.  In my best attempt to compromise we are, alas, turning 40 together - but in Florence, Italy and in June.  It's a fair deal, trust me.

My partner and I are truly dog lovers.  We want to rescue one of those needy pound pups that Sarah McGlaughlin is always peddling on Guilt TV.  If there is a dog adoption at the local pet store, we know to stay clear.  As it is we already have three cats.  One is mine, biologically.  Though I have no evidence, birth certificate or otherwise, he came out of my mental vagina.  Myles is born of me, unto me and all that other bible speak and babble.  The other two we adopted because lazy neglectful people in my neighborhood kicked them out or moved away without taking them.  I love them just fine, but I bare no mental stretch marks with their names.  If I had to , I could find loving homes for them; Elsie and Evelyn, that is.  Just being real - although I hope it never comes to that.  Really.

Yesterday I went with my bff to the dog park beach.  This is a strange place to those of you who don't have or have ever had a dog.  Being a previous dog owner, I have experience this odd kinship between people that otherwise have nothing in common.  Just dogs. - Turns out the size of your dog is like having currency on the dog park.  The bigger the dog, the more power you have over the other little dogs and their owners.  It's subliminal and not discussed, but if you pay attention for it, the big dog is the big dog.  Full stop.  And Big Harley (there was a little Harley - a very little Harley) was my ticket in with these folk.  I was drunk with power and I didn't even have the leash.  Actually, I was just drunk but since it was 6pm, a full hour before wine-o-clock officially starts, I am shy to admit that.  

We met Chris and Maura or Mindy and Charley, whatever... the point is that their real names are Sanoma's Parents. Sanoma is a very cute Golden Retriever puppy with a lot of energy.   Little Harley's momma was there too and I am not sure if I could remember her name if pressed.  A couple with their 1.275 kids and their Weimereiner who is clearly not part of the club I was with came by.  They kept their distance from us and never engaged any of us in conversation.  My guess is that the combination of Harley (yes, big Harley, who happens to be a beautiful black Grate Dane) being present mixed with my intuition that they are probably heading for the suburbs soon - straights often do that when they start reproducing.  Which is fine with me.  The city is no place for kids.  To the tract mansions they go.  Then they can hire me to paint clouds on the ceiling and match their Crate and Barrel Baby blankets with their wall color.  It's a cycle - and I am part of it.  That's all I am saying.   These are the same people who shop at West Elm and Crate and Barrel exclusively and usually have pages 4 and 6 as the living room.  It's nice for them to have to use no imagination but since I see if about twice a month, it gets old.  That mixed with the 100 pictures of their wedding.  Displayed everywhere in the house.  The hall, the shelves, the bathroom.  Ok folks, we get it... .you wore a white dress and took pictures by a water feature on your wedding day - enough!

I am hoping that I am back in time for Dog Hour.  Although I have no dog of my own and I am sure Harley's mama is happy to share his leash with me, I feel a little left out.  There are a few people on the street with dogs - maybe I will rent one for the afternoon.  People are weird about that - with good reason I guess.  If someone knocked on my door and asked if they could take my cat for a while, I might be inclined to say no.  My sales pitch will have to be perfect.   The white bull dog on the street looks good.  His mom is small and if she declines my request for a rental, I am pretty sure I can wrestle the rope from her hands.  I did hear she plays soccer though - which is interesting enough as she is a straight.  I will let you know how this goes.  Maybe I will take pictures.