Puking on a dog and my plans for the weekend.

Things have been pretty busy today. The hubby and the boys are going on a Boy Scout campout this weekend, so preparations are being made. Only one of our cars is working well enough to drive around, and since we have dogs, I will be home all weekend. Which kind of sucks, but it's good too.

If everything falls into place, I'll get more on Book 2 written. Book 2 you say? It's been so many weeks since I've spoken of Book 2. You thought it was a figment of your imagination. Well, it's not. At least 60 pages of it exist currently. I don't have the plot details worked out in my head, so I'm having a difficult time progressing. There are some parts that I know for sure will be happening, so I will try to write those. In the mean time, I'm hoping the plot will work itself out for me while I making progress.

I haven't put revisions behind me. I'm simply waiting for a critiqued edition to come back to me. No sense in spending my time going through all these, only to have to back over themm again.

What else have I been busy with? I'm trying out this work from home search engine thing. So far its promising. It's called ChaCha. Its a search engines that has human guides to help you search. Check it out, it's very helpful. You may even get me as a guide. :)

Now for your insane enjoyment... a true ranting of Sandra as a teenager. Everything in the following story is, unfortunately, true. It is, however, the story that launched Sam's... so I'm happy about that.

Did I ever tell you about the time I accidentally puked in a dog's
mouth? (It was a homosexual dog at that) No? (I'm assuming you
answered no so play along.)

Here it was my senior year in high school… so it was 97-98. I was
with some friends at a party in downtown Kalamazoo, Michigan… There were some
guys who lived there that were in a ska/punk band and being the cute
charismatic guys they were, there were tons of people there (mostly
college kids and punks.) It was an old house from the turn of the
century that had three regular floors a basement, and an attic.

The attic was no place for a girl like me, it was the drug, techno music,
glowstick area of hell. The top two floors held bedrooms, one
bathroom and various other places people decided to relieve
themselves. The main floor, more my style, was where the keg was and
had decent punk music playing fairly loudly. The basement was where
they had shows but no one was currently playing.

At the back of the house on the main floor was a little red recliner made just for me
(not really but it was my spot for that night) it just so happened
to be conveniently located right next to the keg. I was the keg
beast that night. Can't really say for certain how much I had as I
never actually got to the bottom of my cup, but I was perfectly happy
to just sit there by myself, so it was quite a bit.

Cute guy #1, singer from said Punk/ska band, was talking to people on the other
side of the room. He smiled at me, I smiled back, I tilted my head
and projectile puked onto their floor. It wasn't from nerves, he
wasn't that cute, I was just that drunk. I had gotten pretty good at
puking, as I always drank to that point back then, hey just made room
for more eh? I never got a drop of puke on me and none dripping off
my chin either. It was a proud day for Mom and Dad.

So, I made a mad dash for the door. Please observe I was at the back of the
house. One other detail I forgot to mention? It was wall to wall
people and no shittin' ya, there were at least 500 people there. So I
made my dash to the Great Outdoors (bathroom was not an option, line
too long, the toilet was probably clogged up anyway so I'd have to
puke in a dresser drawer or something if I went upstairs)

Surprisingly, everyone knowing where I was sitting, how drunk I was
(and how underage I was) people parted like the Red Sea and I made it
out in record time. The outside was crowded too (downtown, no real
yard space) so I puked over their chain link fence.

Said gay dog (Let's call him Rover) came running at me. I say he was a gay
dog, because he was. He only had one other doggie to play with and
it was male. Perhaps it was a dominance thing… but they did things
that nice girls don't talk about. So, being the animal lover I am,
even if they are gay, I ran (okay stumbled quickly) down the fence to
get away from the dog while puking, not quite so projectile anymore
but I still had a decent range. Well, the dog followed me, jumped up
into my face while I puked, thus going into Rover's mouth. Thus
ending my story.

However, I will add a little epilogue for you. Two
years later I saw Cute guy #1 again. I had been to some shows and
quite a few parties at his house when I was in high school so he
remembered me. But of course, he remembered my projectile puking
record better than anything else. I told him the rest of the story,
as he only knew the parts with the little red recliner.

Needless to say, he was quite amused. Was it love at first retching? No. Was
it the worst thing that had ever happened to that house? Definitely
not. Til next time…

I looked up dog puke on youtube and this is what it came up with... Lord forgive me.