Why We Will Never Have a Dog

One year into our marriage,  I convinced Dave to adopt a 10-pound miniature dachshund named Harriet.  We should have known when she tried to attack a priest on a plane that this wasn’t a good idea. But I’ve always thought God was more subtle with his warnings. He isn’t.

After one year, Harriet ruined a couch, a chair, numerous rugs, and my marriage.

To his credit, Dave didn’t get upset the first time Harriet bit him, or the second time, but by the third time he’d lost his cool. “The dog hates me,” he said. “I can’t live in a house where I’m afraid of a 10-pound, growling burrito!”

I eventually chose Dave, but it took me a year and, in the process, I ceded any moral authority to advocate for dog ownership.

I only bring this up, because a producer at a television show called and asked to feature an essay I wrote about the Harriet year on their show.

This is how Dave responded.

Dave: “I CAN’T BELIEVE WE’VE BEEN MARRIED SEVEN YEARS AND I HAVE TO TELL YOU I WON’T GO ON DAYTIME TV TO TALK ABOUT THAT DOG!”

Me: “But Dave, it could be fun. Right?”

Dave: “You know they’ve found Harriet and that dog is going to confront us on live TV. She’ll bite me and then throw a chair.”

Me: “No, Dave, Harriet is probably doing well. She’s probably owned by a Kardashian now and she’ll be all, ‘I don’t need you! I’m good without you!’ And then she’ll snap her paws in the air like she’s all that.”

Dave: “Oh, she’s owned by a Kardashian? No wonder Kim and Kris’ marriage broke up.”

Me: “How do you know who Kim and Kris even are?”

Dave: “Unbelievable. This whole conversation proves that you don’t know me at all.”

Harriet: Still ruining my marriage from afar.

 

Running Amok on the Internet

It’s time for a summary of all the places I’ve been on the internet recently. Why? Because I get around. 

Talking about pimping yourself for free. It’s business. What were you thinking? Gross. [Mint]

Paying for college while saving for college. Maybe we’ll be lucky and my kid won’t get into college. I mean, afterall, I didn’t take ALL of my prenatal vitamins. [Mint]

Talking about how bloggers pimp themselves. If there is one theme of my writing, it’s selling yourself out. [BlogHer]

I talk about getting your sexy on after a baby. Like I would even know. Also, this is a slide show with a horrifying picture of me post Ellis. You’ve been warned. [YourTango]

And lest you think all I do is write about babies and money and selling my soul…I also write about an Iowa senate candidate who decided to join a shadow government, explaining homonyms to Rush Limbaugh, and proving once and for all that Zack Morris is Illuminati. [TruTV]

Oh hey and if you’ll be in NYC next week, check me out at the Disqus Panel with the community manager from Mashable, on whom I have a girl crush (awkward) or talking about spending money to market yourself with Sarah Caron, Ali Worthington and Paula Gregorowicz. And no, I don’t know why they want me to hang out with them. I imagine it’s the same logic that compels people to be friends with ugly people or watch “Two and a Half Men”–It makes you look better (not that any of those women need it).

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