Thanks, you ungrateful, horrible person. Because you are a jerk, and a rescue got my dog out of your clutches, I got the best fluffy fuzzbutt pet EVER.

Fuck you for using her as a breeder. Fuck you all the way to Hell and back. She is a LOVELY dog; she’s sweet and amazing, in SPITE of you and your bullshit. You suck, and if I could name and shame you I totally would.

I’m always amazed that dogs that get treated like shit like this still have love for humans. Mine is a total sweetheart. How she doesn’t hate our race is beyond me. But, she loves me; she  also lets random humans scratch her chin, and she’s a total treat whore when we go to the office to get a package (SPOILED).

Dogs > humans.

I love her. She’s totally amazeballs.

In light of a friend’s tragic loss of a beloved pet, and the close proximity to the 18th anniversary of my husband’s death, I feel the need to tell this story.

I dated Carl for about a year and a half before I married him. In that time, I had often expressed my desire to own a bird that talked. I thought they were fascinating, funny, and would be a great pet to have, but I never got around to having one.

Right before we got married, Carl brought home this little cardboard box. Inside was the cutest little piece of yellow fluff the world has ever known. My wedding present, Meep.

She came with her name (she was a year old), and we soon figured out why. She didn’t chirp; her sound of choice was “meep, meep, meep!” It fit her, so we kept it.

She was *supposed* to be my bird, but she was daddy’s girl all the way. He had a mustache; she would scream happily when she heard him come up the steps, fly over to him, settle herself on his chest, and groom his mustache. She was totally his baby. She loved me too, but he was #1 in her book. It was incredibly cute.

She also never learned to talk (so much for a talking bird; I still loved the hell out of her). She could whistle; we tried desperately to teach her to do the theme from “The Addams Family” but she never quite got there. We loved her anyway.

When Carl died, poor Meep was hit the hardest. We shared a staircase with the next door neighbors, and while they didn’t share Carl’s enthusiasm of bounding up at top speed, she still thought that sounds on the stairs meant it was him.

After the funeral, and after everyone had gone home, and things returned to “normal”, I watched her dance around on top of her cage one night as the neighbor came up the stairs. She thought Carl had come home.

The hardest thing I have ever done in my life was to look at her and say, “That’s not daddy”. I kid you not, that bird looked at me, looked at the door, and turned her face to the corner. For a couple hours. It literally broke my heart.

So the next time someone tells you, “It’s just a cat/dog/bird” cut those people out of your life. They truly don’t get it. Not at all.

Since it’s New Year’s Eve, I think it’s the perfect time to post up the 2015 book list. So, here in all its glory, is what I read in the last 365 days.

Post in the comments if you have book recommendations – I’m always up for a new book (or series!).

Divergent – Veronica Roth
Insurgent – Veronica Roth
Allegiant – Veronica Roth
Tales from the Nightside – Simon R. Green
Four: The Transfer – Veronica Roth
Four: The Initiate – Veronica Roth
Four: The Son – Veronica Roth
Four: The Traitor – Veronica Roth
Quick Fixes – F. Paul Wilson
Foxglove Summer – Ben Aaronovitch
Drinking: A Love Story – Caroline Knapp
Lily Cigar – Tom Murphy
Deadline – Craig McLay
The Locket Thief – Daniel Patrick
Identity (Eyes Wide Open, Book 1) – Ted Dekker
Mirrors (Eyes Wide Open, Book 2) – Ted Dekker
Unseen (Eyes Wide Open, Book 3) – Ted Dekker
Seer (Eyes Wide Open, Book 4) – Ted Dekker
Horns – Joe Hill (reread)
Winter’s Awakening – Karen Luellen
Heart-Shaped Box – Joe Hill (reread)
Balloon Animals – Jonathan Dunne
20th Century Ghosts – Joe Hill (reread)
Never Give in to Fear: Laughing All the Way Up from Rock Bottom – Marti MacGibbon
The Legend of Candy Claws – Aurelio Voltaire
Smoke Gets in Your Eyes – Caitlin Doughty
Joe – H. D. Gordon
Perv: The Sexual Deviant in All of Us – Jesse Bering
Paper Towns – John Green
The Fault in Our Stars – John Green
An Abundance of Katherines – John Green
Pioneer Girl – Laura Ingalls Wilder
Everything You Need to Know to Survive English Class – Blake M. Petit
Finders Keepers – Stephen King
The Lineage – Brian P. Easton
The Gift of Fear – Gavin de Becker (reread)
Enough of Us: Why We Should Think Twice Before Making Children – Cheryl Levinson & Ellis Levinson
The Jungle – Upton Sinclair (reread)
Four Past Midnight – Stephen King (reread)
Gastien: the Cost of the Dream – Caddy Rowland
Just After Sunset – Stephen King (reread)
Gastien: from Dream to Destiny – Caddy Rowland
Tristan Michel: Bloodline of Passion – Caddy Rowland
Giselle: Keeper of the Flame – Caddy Rowland
Gastien: Circle of Destiny – Caddy Rowland
A Crash Course in American Law – J. Ryan Jones
The Low Carb Revolution – John McLean
Embers: The Wings of War Book 1 – Karen Ann Hopkins
That Frequent Visitor: Every Face has a Darker Side – John Harker
The Eyes of the Dragon – Stephen King (reread)
Tampa – Alissa Nutting
The Farm – Emily McKay
Thinner – Stephen King (reread)
The Lair – Emily McKay
The Dark Half – Stephen King (reread)
What If? – Randall Munroe
The Vault – Emily McKay
The Bazaar of Bad Dreams – Stephen King
Circus of Horrors – Carole Gill
Blaze – Stephen King (reread)
The Glass Books of the Dream Eaters – Gordon Dahlquist

I saw it coming when I actually had to look up who this Justin Bieber person was everyone was freaking out about a few years ago, but it’s gotten much worse since then. I find it amazingly ironic that I can chart my social consciousness downfall to Justin Bieber. Man, that’s so many kinds of sad I can’t even.

It started first, really, with movies (Well, really with Justin Bieber, but who really wants to give him credit for anything?). I’ve stopped really wanting to go to new movies at the theater (some jackhole is going to bring a screaming kid, even at 9pm, and I’ve become an old curmudgeon and I don’t need that bullshit in my life) and, *OMG GASP* it will show up on Amazon for $3. Yes, I have become this person. I’m trolling the $3 theater as we speak and deciding if it’s worth it (only because I have a gift card to use up) or if I should just wait until I can watch it at home in my jammies.

I Am Officially Old.

I’ll give you this – I held out MUCH longer than my parents did. By the time they were 30, they were totally ignorant of popular culture. I made it to 49. I’m just way too tired to care 80% of the time about some of the crazy shit you people find interesting, but the other 20% I’m totally into. I’m hoping I can make it to 60 before I just throw my hands up, say fuck it, and listen to Nickleback. Bitches. 😀

I hate asshole parents. Asshole parents who think their child is a “special snowflake”, “spirited” (my particular favorite), or, and OMG excuse me while I barf over this one, “Indigo”.

YOU ARE THE REASON YOUR KID IS AN ASSHOLE.

Kids only know what they’re taught. If you teach them they are super-special, unique, above the rules, or otherwise entitled, YOU ARE NOT HELPING YOUR CHILD. You are SERIOUSLY contributing to the plethora of thirty-five year olds living in basements.

Just stop.

Well, several reasons, young padawan. First and foremost, I’m not interested. Yes, I know you’ve been trained up to think all women want kids, but that’s actually not true. There are many of us who just don’t fucking care. So, there. We may or may not like kids, but we don’t want our own. Get over it.

Second, family history. MY family is a trainwreck of alcoholics; my late husband’s was a trainwreck of mental illness and fail. He killed himself at the age of 35. Imagine what my life would have been like had I had a child with him. Said kid would have been 2 or 3 at the time. NOPE. How can I tell my child, “Daddy had mental health issues and you may too, but hey, you’ll be okay”. NOPE. NOPE NOPE NOPE. And, NOPE. And don’t tell me it’s not genetic. You have NOT met his family. I have and that shit is TOTALLY genetic. No lie.

I ALWAYS said, if I REALLY wanted to be a parent, I’d adopt. The fact that I’m 48 and haven’t kind of tells you that no, I do NOT want to be a parent. NOPE.

If that’s your thing, go for it. Just stop acting like there is something wrong with me because I have no interest.

Life choices. Deal with it.

I’m not even kidding. I DID follow my dad around and watch him work when I was a kid, but I never got beyond the stage of, “Hand me that wrench”.

Still, somehow, I learned a thing or two. Plus, I suspect I’m just naturally handy. In the six years I had my condo, I:

• rewired all the outlets – like, seriously, I would plug in the vacuum and the plug would LITERALLY fall out of the wall. NOPE. Also, ALMOND? How 1975 (okay, it was built in like ’77, so…) I went white.

• put in new light fixtures. Honestly, the hardest part of this process is to MAKE SURE THE ELECTRICITY IS TURNED OFF. No lie.

• fixed drywall. Okay, I’ll admit, I suck at this. But it was in a closet where I was going to install a stackable washer and dryer. It was a good place to try. I think my problem in this endeavor is that I completely lack the patience it requires to make this look good. Okay, well, I know my limitations now. I’ll hire that out in the future.

• replacing faucets. This is SUPER easy, provided you are part snake and can get under the sink. My back hurt for two days, but fuck it…I did it. Bathroom AND kitchen.

• painting. I ROCK at this. Seriously, tape is for amateurs. Get yourself a good angle brush and go to work on the trim. I painted a 900+ square foot condo over the course of probably a year, and it. Was. AWESOME. I even ripped off the cabinet doors (word to the wise, label them so you know where they go; they may all look the same, but they are NOT) AND even filled in the holes the previous owner made to put in unnecessary pulls. Those fuckers looked AWESOME.

I LOVED that fixer-upper project, but I’m too old and lazy to do it again. Now I rent and tsk tsk when someone else does it. LOL

I’m really happy there have been a lot of really good articles about being childfree coming out lately, but I have one problem with all of them.

Every last one. EVERY. LAST. ONE. puts in a line that says something like, “I’m not knocking parenting, I’m sure a lot of people find it fulfilling, but”…

JUST STOP IT, ALREADY.

Why do the people writing these articles feel it’s necessary to “apologize” for their opinion? Are they really that afraid of being attacked? I don’t understand the backpedaling here.

You have an opinion. Own it. There is absolutely NO reason to pander to people who want kids in an article about why you don’t. Have you EVER seen a parent do this? EVER? NO, YOU HAVE NOT. So stop it, already.

I swear this is one of the reasons the parenting set don’t take us seriously. Stop pandering, stop apologizing, stop being a freaking wuss. State your opinion, stand by it, and put on your asbestos underwear and deal with the people that don’t like it.

That is the ONLY way we are ever going to be taken seriously, so either fight the battle or go work in the cook’s tent and STFU.

Oh yes, my Michigan peeps are laughing at this. My dad worked for Chevy for almost 40 years. We HATED Ford. I had a moment of traitorship just looking at the thing.

But.

Back in ’06, when I got the Honda, I REALLY tried to find a Chevy. Granted, this was before the bailout, but still. Chevy had no good options, even with my dad’s employee discount (which I can get as long as my mom is alive, legacy costs, anyone?).

So I got the Honda Fit. I loved it. I still love it. I’d buy another one in a heartbeat.

But, when I was thinking about replacing the Honda, I went and looked at Ford first. I liked the fact that a) they bailed themselves out and b) they jumped on the technology bandwagon. Mostly B.

I leased a Ford Fiesta. I LOVE this car. The hands free cell feature is seriously the coolest freaking thing ever. I’m going to spring for the $60/year fee to see how the maps/directions work. If it’s good, I’m IN.

Yes, Saginaw residents. Do your worst. I bought a Ford.

About 99% of the time. Like you do. Like we ALL do, all of us who were born into the middle class. They’re losers, they’re hopeless, they have nothing to offer, they are the dregs of humanity.

Tonight I got addressed by a homeless guy sitting on a bench next to the liquor store, where I was heading to replenish my vodka supply (I LOVE that I can walk to a liquor store!). He asked for change. I had none; I rarely, if ever, carry cash. Still, I knew why he was sitting there. He was trying to pony up enough for a drink. When I told him I had no cash, he was incredibly polite about it, too, which is unusual.

So, when I went in to make my purchase, I got an “airline sized” bottle of vodka for him. It was only about a buck. As I passed him on my way home, I handed it to him, saying, “Hey, I know I didn’t have any cash, but I thought this might help you a little bit.”

He was incredibly grateful. Yeah, he’s probably an incurable alcoholic, he lives on the streets, and he’s begging for money for booze. I get that.

I also get he’s a human being, He’s not likely to change his behavior at this point in his life, and if it made him happy for ten minutes, then he at least got to be happy. I looked at him and realized how close many of us are to being him. So yeah, I supported his addiction.

And I’m not sorry.