Wednesday, March 25, 2009

Rain, Etc.

bud and raindrops
Originally uploaded by mygothlaundry
"It is raining, rainy rain rain rainish rain. . . falling on my head like a box of rain. . . " I sang to the dogs this morning by way of making them less sad about not going on a walk. The best thing about having dogs around rather than kids is that dogs never look at you in horror when you sing nonsense early in the morning and they never say "GOD, will you SHUT UP? You are SO WEIRD." Well. Almost never, anyway. They do get that miserable "She is not going to take us to the park today either is she? I will just go lie sadly under the bed now because I never get to go to the park." face that makes me feel guilty but then it is, as always, possible that I anthropomorphize too much. They just feel like going back under the bed when I don't put my hiking boots on and who could blame them? One of these mornings I might go under there myself, down in the dark with the dust bunnies where nobody can find me.

I actually woke up kind of early this morning despite the darkness and I was going to take them for the first walk in way too long - the thought of taking all three of them out on leashes in the neighborhood by myself makes me fear and tremble and gnash my teeth - but when confronted with utter darkness and pouring rain and the terrible fact that walking dogs in the rain means coming back inside with soaking wet dogs, I chickened out. So I had to sing to them instead, in between bouts of rereading Robertson Davies' Deptford Trilogy, wishing I could go to Zurich for deep Jungian analysis of the type that doesn't exist anymore if it ever did and puttering about the kitchen moaning about this whole having to go to work thing on a day when any sane person would clearly just say fuck it and go back to bed. Now it is afternoon; the rain, it does not cease and tonight I have allowed myself to be talked into attending a belly dancing class. That should be wildly entertaining. Wildly.

Meanwhile, as the rain falls and the temperature drops and my mood darkens, let us discuss The Google. After a year or two of the boring but predictable cityscape theme, which changed its light at different times of day rather preciously (is preciously a word? Should it be? What if I said, in a precious manner? Wouldn't that be just precious?) I have discovered that not only can you get new themes, you can get themes that change every day. This would be truly fabulous except for the very high number of themes that feature young women standing around looking pouty and half clad or, in todays particularly awful example, looking at flowers while eating enormous lollipops. Ewww. Stop now, internet, with the stupid models. I do not want them overseeing my email, horoscope and National Geographic picture of the day plus spammy ad. It might be futile to ask the internet to slow up on the half naked chicks, I know, but oh well, what the hell, everyone needs a pointless, futile quest once in a while.

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