Archive - February 2018

The Year of the Dog so far
Safe, Loved, and Warm – where do the guns fit in?
Friday 5: Dogs

The Year of the Dog so far

(alternate post title 1: Sunday Bloody Sunday)
(alternate post title 2: Say hello to my little friend!

Sunday morning after breakfast I was on the floor with the dogs, playing. I had a ball in my hand and was waving it back and forth it in a teasey “who wants the ball?” way. Murphy was very wound-up, decided he wanted the ball, and went for it. Except he missed and got my lip instead. He immediately let go. We paused for a half-second, shocked.

The perpetrator, with sock.

I saw the blood drip into my hand and thought, “if you little jerk broke one of my teeth I am going to lose it. Teeth are expensive.”

And then I touched my lip and … more blood. I yelped (and then Ollie yelped because he’s trying to be an emotional support dog), ran upstairs, looked into the mirror and saw that Murphy got me really good. Being a calm human, I called WM (in Michigan, where he’s been visiting his family) and hollered “HE BIT ME!”

No matter how many years you’ve been married (or how many times) you can still say the wrong thing at the wrong time. WM also wants you to know that he was actually in Michigan, can prove it, and didn’t punch me in the mouth. I guess being bit by your own dog sounds like a farfetched story. But I can’t be the only person this has happened to.

After he calmed me down from 700 miles away, I got an ice pack out of the freezer, stopping at another mirror along the way to double-check that I was seeing what I was seeing and called Mom to drive me to Urgent Care so I could keep pressure on my mouth.

There is a thin cut from the bottom of my nose to the top of my lip. I have an “H” shaped injury on the left side of my upper lip, and a laceration on the inside of that lip. Thankfully*, I didn’t need stitches. Instead, I have sexy steri-strips from the bottom of my nose to the top of my lip and nothing on the lip itself. The lip is very swollen in a way reminiscent of a Kylie Jenner Lip Challenge Fail. There is NO WAY to conceal it, so I’ll be answering dozens of questions all week at work. The inside laceration is already closed. The doctor says that lips heal quickly, and I choose to believe him. I got a tetanus booster (tdap) which probably hurt worse than the lip injuries, and a prescription for the largest antibiotic pills I’ve ever seen. I’ll put my face pic at the very bottom of this post, for the lip-injury-fetish crowd. What can I say? I’m a giver.

I did stay home today because I want to be 100% sure that the uncovered part is completely closed.

By the way, my local urgent care is Patient First and I love them.

I had to fill out a bite report on Murphy, ratting him out for what he did. It was a dumb accident and I hope nothing comes of it. I was dumb and had my face where it shouldn’t have been. Murphy is the largest dog I’ve had in years, and my reflexes aren’t what they used to be. I need to adjust my playstyle a bit.

We came home and cleaned up all of the blood I dripped all over the floors while running between rooms. There was much blood. I would never be able to get away with body disposal. I’m a panicky slob.

LATER THAT SAME DAY Murphy rolled/fell off of the sofa and bumped his leg. He was limping off and on (forgetting to limp if someone knocked at the door or if he went outside). Yesterday, Scarface and Her Dog went to the vet to get that looked at. $76 later we came home with a prescription and a suggestion to keep him calm which — hahahahhahahhaa. Yeah okay.

Pity WM, who returned from his trip today to a busted wife, a limping dog, and a house that probably looks terrifying under blacklight. Ollie’s fine. For now.

Happy Year of the Dog!

*I’ll probably regret this down the road because of scarring. Sorry, Future Kim. Past Kim didn’t want a sewn up lip.

Gross picture below:









Safe, Loved, and Warm – where do the guns fit in?

Summary: They don’t!

Safe, Loved and Warm is my guidepost for how humanity should be treated. On Valentine’s Day, instead of worrying about if they’d get a card or a carnation at lunchtime, students at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School wondered if they were going to be shot dead. Because it was another School Shooting Day in America! And even if there haven’t been 18 school shootings this year (fake news is on both sides, people), there have been too many.

Let’s go with this stat instead: 2017 was the deadliest year for mass killings in a decade.

Schools should be some of the safest places in the country. For God’s sake, schools should be one of the places at the intersection of safe, loved, and warm! Actually, so should churches. And nightclubs. And even music festivals.

Pardon me while I channel my inner Julia Sugarbaker and break out the bold tags.

EVERY DAY I worry about my husband being shot at school. Not on the drive to school. Not a the Wawa while grabbing a coffee. Not walking into school. IN SCHOOL. Every June I am thankful he made it through another year. Every September I take a deep breath. When my mother finally retired, I rejoiced. WM and Mom aren’t cops or soldiers, or anyone with a job you’d naturally worry about gunfire with. They are teachers.

For comparison’s sake, my ex-husband (BvP, hello if you read!) is a pharmacist. He worked in a retail pharmacy handling narcotics until dark o’clock every night and I never worried about him being shot.

We will never be able to eliminate people who are angry and people who are broken. They will always exist and we must find ways to care for them compassionately. We can never control for that variable, but we can certainly do our best to control for the weaponry that they (and we) all apparently have easy access to.

We as a nation can no longer control who gets guns and how they are modded, so we as a nation have to take our medicine. Which is much more potent than mealy “thoughts and prayers.”

There is a place for thoughts and prayers, and it’s right next to “doing something.”

So what is the Gun Control plank of the Safe, Loved, and Warm platform? Here we go. Buckle up. Some of you won’t like it. But I hate having to show ID to get cold medicine or having my breasts touched at the airport and yet I’m doing just fine.

State stores for gun and ammo purchases.
When I want a bottle of wine, I have to go to a special store, show ID that proves I’m of age, and get my wine. It works for us here in NJ. I’m not doing anything wrong with my alcohol, so I don’t mind. If you’re a hunter, or a skeet shooter, or just like to take your handgun to the range, you should have zero problems with that accountability.

Ban the purchase of ANY firearm by anyone under the age of 25.
If you won’t rent a car to an 18 year old, you shouldn’t be selling weapons to them either.

End gun shows. We don’t need any more help with products to help us conceal weapons better or mod them to shoot faster or make them sexier.

Auctions. Mods. Hooray! Click to enlarge.

These are actual banner ads on www dot gunshows dash usa dot com. Go look.

Stop the romanticization of gun culture.
Dressing babies in safety orange and camo for the Christmas card photo in the woods? Why?

A handgun on a onesie. Adorbs! Click to enlarge.

Yeah, these are actual shirts for babies and children. Found via Google’s Shopping tab.

End the sales of funny-haha gun merchandise. Like this:

My sides are hurting you guys. Click to enlarge.

Again, easily findable on the internet. I can’t wait for Google ads to get a hold of my search history later tonight.

We need to start filing lawsuits against the NRA to bring it down. Because Congress isn’t going to do anything about this. If a bunch of country music loving Americans were shot in front of Jason Aldean and the politicians didn’t do anything THEN, they’re not going to do anything about kids (and teachers) in schools, or people in an office building. This is on us now.

“But what about people who run their cars into crowds?”
Murderers, but the purpose of a car is to transport people place to place. The primary purpose of a gun is to fire a bullet into something you want destroyed. Cars are also easier to duck, and harder to conceal.

“But what about people who stab with knives?”
Murders, but the purpose of a knife is to cut something, like a tasty steak, or a clamshell package, or a seatbelt. The primary purpose of a gun is to fire a bullet into something you want destroyed.

“Arm teachers!”
While WM is proficient with a gun, he’s not a security guard. But sure, let’s add “box of ammo” to your kid’s September school supply list, because some school districts can’t afford to buy copy paper after November. I’m sure the PTAs will be happy to hold Claire’s Gourmet fundraisers to arm the faculty.

“Okay, smartass, which guns should be illegal for a civilian to own?”
I don’t know enough about the terminology to make judgments, but there should be an independent commission of non-NRA-affiliated civilians to do the research and come up with recommendations. While I feel like they should all be bought back and melted down, there is a 2nd Amendment. I believe we need to realign what we call personal ownership of a firearm to the original spirit of the law as written. A tank is a vehicle. That doesn’t mean any Josephine can buy one to drive to the nail salon.

“Easy for you to say … you’ve never even shot a gun.”
Wrong. I have. There’s a picture somewhere. It was hella fun. I’m willing to not do that anymore.

“But sometimes you can’t control the sickos who want to murder!”
True, but it’ll be much easier if they can’t get a buy a gun. Or steal a gun from Mommy’s arsenal.

“What’s the point? If someone is determined, they’ll still get a gun.”
An umbrella doesn’t stop me from getting a little wet from rain, but that doesn’t mean they’re not worth having around. Wouldn’t eliminating even 50% of shootings be worth the pain points? I think so.

You’re right. Lemme think.

Nah. People had fun hunting for years without being kitted out like a Navy SEAL to do so. They’ll adjust

It’s time to protect our kids, our teachers, and ourselves, and push for change. Change is hard, change hurts. But making sure our family, friends, and neighbors are safe, loved, and warm is worth it.

(Co-signed by my Mom.)

Friday 5: Dogs

Thursday’s post about World of Warcraft was auto-scheduled, and I’m glad because after YET ANOTHER school shooting on Wednesday, I wouldn’t have known what to write. Well, I know what has to be written, but that one’s going to take some time.

Apologies for the design weirdness here over the last week. I updated colors and apparently I had hard-coded some css SOMEWHERE (don’t do that) and had to find it to fix things.

In the meantime, it’s time for the Friday 5 – this week’s theme is DOG because it is the Chinese Year of the Dog. Here at the house on Literary Lane, EVERY year is the year of the dog. Let’s get to it!

1. What doglike traits do you possess?
Feed me regularly and I’ll love you forever.

My little gentleman, Mickey.

2. What’s your favorite dog movie?
I avoid dog movies like the plague because more often than not the dog dies. So no, I never saw Marley & Me. A heartwarming tale of a dog’s life from puppyhood to death? Nah. I live that. It’s also why I don’t watch This is Us. I get worked up enough about real relatives dying – I can’t emotionally invest in a fake person’s relatives too.

Mom’s dog, Chip.

3. When did you last have a hot dog?
Thursday, February 1, at work. I had relish, yellow mustard (something I used to hate as a kid but now I enjoy it), and onions. On a potato roll. With chips. I love hot dogs – I had a hot dog and fries almost every day of my high school life.

Max, forever my little defender. Almost 2 years and I still cry.

4. Who is (or was) a good celebrity dog?
The team of Moose and Enzo, who played Eddie Crane on Frasier. You can train dogs to do any sort of physical tricks, but Eddie Crane had moods and attitude. I think Frasier is due for a rewatch — wonder how it holds up?

Ollie, King of the Mood Swing and Number One Cuddle Buddy.

5. What are you doing for chow this weekend
This President’s Day Weekend, WM is at his Mom’s in Michigan while I hold down the fort. When he’s going I usually cook myself one garlicky shrimp dinner (he likes neither of those) but otherwise I eat like feral teenager with money.

Murphy didn’t take Max’s place. He’s creating his own.

I’m off on Monday! I have a three day weekend yawning ahead of me and I have a stack of books to dive into. Thanks, most presidents. No, not THAT one.

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