There's Something About Harry

He is so snuggly and good-natured and fun, but this barking-once-he's-in-the-crate thing is wearing us out. And makes us feel like child abusers. If less than a week's worth of separation anxiety is tearing us up, what the hell would we do with kids? Speaking of small folk, Leela, my three-year-old homegirl, laughed when I told her that Harry was, in fact, hairy. I said that we'd considered calling him Furry, but that that was silly.
Other silliness: Boris sent me this link a few weeks ago, and every time I read "(Did anyone else have that dream where Sharon Osbourne is a baby with fangs, and she is climbing above your bed?)" I cry from laughter. It's almost as good as chihuahuas wearing yarmukles.

Mo, Def

Before I get caught up in Puppy Hysteria, a bit more:

When we were in Columbia for New Year's, we stopped for ice cream at Sparky's Homemade Ice Cream, this joint that boasts Ghiradelli chocolate chunks, organic vanilla and no artificial flavors or colors. (I found out about them over at Giant Robot, weirdly.) Not Murray's good, but still pretty dang good. Also ate the Best Hash Browns Ever at Ernie's. Ryan thinks they were deep-fried. Which is pretty gross when you think about it, but I still partied with them.

I'm seeing clients! No one hates me! Yet! And no one is injured! It's the little things.

I did my first fancy-pants artist interview, and he doesn't hate me either. Results are here.

Braverrentos are hitting Mexico in a few weeks. I could use some serious warm weather. Like now. Like why do we continue to live here? Like I think year-round sandals might make me happier. Just a thought.

Le Nouveau Bichon Est Arrivé!

Harry is here! He is so cute! I love puppies! I'll post a picture soon! Once he stops licking himself long enough to look at me! I love Harry!