Market

I'm doing laundry tonight and I enjoy having a glass of wine in between trips to the laundry room. I was out of wine so I went to the little market that is on the ground level of my condo building. I also needed cash to load onto my laundry card and I try to avoid using the ATM in the laundry room because the fee is something ridiculous like $4.50. I went to the market, picked out a cheap bottle of wine, and asked the cashier/owner if it's possible to get cash back from a purchase (ie- avoid having to get cash from the laundry room ATM and get charged). He said no, sorry it wasn't and I mumbled something about how it's no problem at all I just wondered because I hate using the ATM in the laundry room because due to their 'tarded fees. The owner, who knows me from frequenting the store but is by no means someone who even knows my first name, asked me "would you like to borrow some money to dodge the ATM fees, buddy?"

I was sort of floored. What a nice offer from someone who just trusted that this store patron that he has 2 min. conversations with here and there (me) would be good for the loan. That's something you assume would happen in a small town, not a huge city. Then again, it's a reminder that though there's a large population, living on top of each other, it's just a more compact community in nature, which doesn't make it NOT a community. This building is my small town, so are the few blocks that surround me. More establishments packed into a smaller radius and the same familiar fellow patrons and neighbors visiting them.

There's times when it could be easy to feel alone in such a big city when you live by yourself. Then there are certain moments that make you feel like there's a friendly person around every corner if circumstance just allows for a simple friendly gesture to occur between two people.

G'night,
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Be Nice, Say Hi

I feel like my dog makes his way into almost every topic lately, blog included, so my apologies. He's a bit time consuming and, you guessed it, Real Estate isn't exactly sucking up large quantities of my day lately.

when I walk Norman outside a lot of people stop and either want to pet him or talk to me about what kind of dog he is, etc. I can't blame them, he's cute. It's always a little strange because I never know what to say if someone just comes up and starts talking directly to my dog. If I say nothing and just let Norman bounce around at their feet it looks like I'm irritated they've interrupted. If they rave about how cute he is and I say "thank you" I feel weird because, after all, I had nothing to do with his cuteness.. I didn't birth the dog or build him out of papermache. So what typically happens is something that I hate but do anyway. I go into dog-speak and fill the awkward silence on my end by responding to their "oh you're so cute, oh look at you" with "Say hi Norman, Say hi! Be nice, say hi Norman" and suddenly we're both speaking in the same tone a parent might use with an infant. Much like the infant, my dog can't talk, so it's sort of a weird exchange between everyone but it flows out of my mouth to fill in the time anyway.

So a couple days ago this group of Asian guys come walking down the sidewalk and Norman starts leaping around at their feet as we crossed paths, excited to meet new friends. One of the young men leans down and starts petting him. I just stood there at first but of course finally felt like I had to say SOMETHING so I said "Say hi! Be nice, say hi, say hi!" The young Asian man looked back up at me with a confused and half nervous face and muttered hesitantly ".. hi?"

From his accent I suddenly realized he wasn't just Asian-American, he was Asian-Asian and very Confused-Confused. The poor foreign guy thought I was telling HIM to "Be nice" and "say hi!" I'm sure after I said it about 3 times he finally decided he had placate me and say hi.

Now go out there today and be nice, say hi.
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New Rule!

I've come up with a new rule that needs to be implemented immediately. There are certain un-written rules in this life, some of which for example are: "look both ways before crossing the street," "stop, drop and roll if you're on fire" and "fire only when fired upon if you're in a Top Gun style dogfight (in no particular order of importance). My new suggested rule: "When waiting for an elevator in a lobby, count to THREE before charging the door once the doors open." I can't tell you how many times I've been on an elevator going down to a lobby lately and the SECOND the doors open, someone on the other side waiting to get in and go up RUSHES the door and practically head-butts me in the face. WAIT A SECOND asshole, did you ever think that someone else mighhhhhtttt possibly be on the other side of that door about to walk OFF the 'vator? I swear some people barely let the door crack itself open before they're shoving their nose through the opening to get inside. Where's the fire? If there is one, I expect you to be stopping, dropping and rolling as previously mentioned.

Running into me while my hands are full of groceries, or even when my hands are completely empty for that matter, is not okay. One... two... three... enter. It's that simple. What's humorous (but not at all humorous) is how THAT person always acts put out that they almost ran into YOU. It's like me running over your foot in my car and then being exasperated that it was in my way. Oh well shit, I'm sorry for inconveniencing your mad dash into the elevator by standing still and minding my own business. My reflex is always to say "sorry" when that happens, too. Which is something that I'm working on NOT saying as much anymore in general where it isn't necessary. Let's face it, I'm NOT sorry you're fatass and can't wait to get upstairs to eat ice cream. I'm just not.

So let's put the new rule into action.. now.
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Norman and Oprah

It's quite difficult to type with a puppy laying across your right arm. As much as I'm moving his little head around as I type, Norman still doesn't seem to mind.. sound asleep.

Before I brought Norman back from Texas I purchased something called the "Pup Head." It's a pad of artificial grass that sits on a tray and can be placed on a balcony, patio, etc. Perfect for high rise dwellers (like myself) who can't get a puppy who has a bladder the size of a pebble (like Norman) down 33 floors in time to avoid an accident happening in the living room. I then put the puppy training pads underneath the 'grass' between the turf and the tray and clean up is quite easy. Anyway, the little guy took to it like a pro and his 281 pee breaks a day are much easier to deal with.. especially at 11pm when it's 19 degrees outside.

Norman's urban toilette:


So the other day I took Norman with me to PetCo to buy more training pee-pads and some puppy shampoo. As I was walking out of the store, struggling to carry Norman under one arm and a huge "Value Pack" box of pee pads under the other, I noticed a man who looked oddly familiar walking towards me into the store. Suddenly it hit me.. that's Oprah's beau, Steadman, it's gotta be. He paused and looked back behind him towards the parking lot as if looking for someone who was lagging behind. As I approached my car in the parking lot I realized who was trailing behind him that he turned around to find. Oprah. With a new puppy on a leash, Oprah stood next to the hood of my car at a patch of grass attempting to coax the new puppy to pee.

I set the box of pee pads on the hood of my car so I could free up a hand to fish car keys out of my coat pocket and Oprah looked up at me (and the box) and said in her trademarked Oprah voice.. "PUPPY PEEEE PADDSS!" I replied "Oh God, let me tell you.. a life saver for someone who lives in a high rise.. hence me coming back for the 'value pack' this time!" She said "I am on my way to buy some RIGHT... NOW!" and then we had a quick conversation about puppy training and I let her know that the synthetic puppy grass was also a save-the-day product to look into. After a few minutes I said "good luck!" and got into my car. Then suddenly I said to Norman (having a pet is a great excuse to not feel/look crazy when talking to yourself) "did we just have an entire conversation with Oprah Winfrey... about peeing?!" Norman looked at me and replied with his facial expression "food." Or maybe it was "pee." I'm not sure, he only has a few thought processes I'm sure. To Norman, it was just another human being and oddly enough that's what it seemed like to me until a few moments later when I realized I had an oddly 'normal' and every-day kind of exchange with one of the most recognized and powerful women in the world. Fancy that. Fancy also that she buys her own pee pads with absolutely no security or entourage following her around. Side note: she also doesn't let a make-up artist follow her around either. I'm just sayin.

All in all, it made for an interesting lil' story to recount later. As lauren said, maybe now puppy pee pads will be on her next "favorite things" show and everyone in the audience will get a pack. It's no Pontiac Sunfire or massage chair from Brookstone, but... blame the economy (and my raving review of them) if that does indeed happen.



Norman letting me know that this photo shoot is OVER by attacking the camera strap:


This puppy has already attracted more interesting conversations out in public than I've had on my own in at least 3 months. Maybe 4.

here's to a 55 degree day in Chicago on March 5th. Norman and I are headed outside to round up some famous people and phone numbers.

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