If You Really Wanna See Something, Get the Broom...

In a money saving effort I booked myself home on a flight through Phoenix, which departed at 4am LA time and finally got me into Indy a little after 2:30am IN time. My mom LOVED picking me up. Seriously she did. I’m just glad she skipped the Lunesta before taking to the crowded streets of North side Indianapolis.

Anyway, on the drive home she asked if I wanted to stop and grab some water or something. You know, it’s like almost 3am now. I was like, “umm, no, I think I can wait for some H2O till we get home…” And she’s like, “well, you can’t go into the kitchen to get water. Your dad has an early case and I don’t want to wake up Jack. So we’ll be going through the front door.” (not the garage which takes you through the kitchen and past the little devil dog) But then she’s like, “Unless, you want to play with him if he wakes up.” So I say “sure, yeah, I’ll play with little Jack-y.” And then she pulls the ultimate Jane move, which I’ve never understood, whereby she suggests something, you agree to it, then she rescinds her offer and is like, “oh, I was just kidding. You can’t do that.” It’s like the 2001 job market at my house every single day. If something Jane says sounds like it’s too good to be true and will be snatched away one second later…well then, it was too good an offer, and it will be snatched away. She’s like f’in Accenture.

Anyway, in the couple weeks it’s been since I’ve last seen him, Jack has learned some new tricks. You see, he’s not an old dog. He’s a new dog. So he can learn those new tricks. He now understands sit. And every time you tell him to sit, you have to say, “Good sit!!” And when he bites, you say, “Leave it!” And his potties are getting better. And yes, when he potties, you HAVE to say, “Good potty!!!” Think of what that must do for your self esteem. I’m trying to imagine what life would be like if every time I sat down on our couch Veeve was like, “Good sit Lindy!” Or whenever I came out of the bathroom she was like, “Good potty!” You know though, that’d be pretty weird. I guess. Yeah, slightly odd for sure.

My favorite Jack-related line so far though was we’re playing with him, and my mom is like, “you should seem him do his tail games.” (I guess he likes to chase his tail around and shit) But then she goes, “But if you really wanna see something, you have to get the broom out!” He likes to chase the broom around, I saw it, it’s silly. But that sounds really filthy, doesn’t it?

Jack aside, I want to announce that I got my Nicole Richie haircut, and I L-O-V-E it. Yes, as has been pointed out, I do live in LA, a style mecca, and I did get my hair chopped in Indy, but the fact is that my mom’s hairdresser, Emmet, works magic with scissors and has actually been mentioned in US Weekly for his line of styling products which have landed in swag bags. Yes, I am validating a little here. Seriously though he’s awesome and I totally trusted him to chop off EIGHT inches of my hair. Eight. Yes, it was scary. Anyway, it’s super super fun. I took pics to post but I really hate the pics so you’ll just have to see the real deal.

Oh, and his gay lover works at the salon too. We have the same conversation every time I go in there. He starts telling me all the plastic surgery he’s going to have Dick do on him. Today he was talking about getting the muscles in his chin tightened up. Then he asked if dad does pec implants. I honesty don’t know if he does. But, ewww. Oh, the lover was also fascinated and devastated by my vocal nodules. He found them very disturbing. He was so disturbed by them that I think I’m now more disturbed by them. He’s a character that gay lover man, sure is.

Ok, well, the weather blows to death here. I’m gonna go…get the broom out…