My House Is Being Haunted by The Worst Ghost

Or: I’m Pretty Perplexed by My Dogs^
^Bear with me on this one, guys. It’s a long one.

So I think it’s pretty clear that my default setting is “Cat Person,”
^Further proof can be found here and here and here.

This doesn’t mean I don’t like dogs, or that I’m not a dog person. It means that when it came time for my to harass my parents for a pet as a child, I was prioritizing cats.

My husband, on the other hand, is a default Dog Person. So when we moved in together, this happened:

It's always better to quote Ghostbusters

Cats and dogs, living together y’all.

I pretty much instantly fell in love with the dogs. Like, snuggly, fluffy, cuddly love. Sometimes, though, dogs make my life very mystifying. Allow me to explain:

About a month ago, I came home from work.^^
^^This is normal. Sometimes I actually DO go into the office, and then I have to come home afterwards, or my employers would be charged with kidnapping.

Home

Throwing all your work in the air when arriving home is the proper way to acknowledge the end of a work day.

But something was amiss.

Home to Stink

Very amiss.

There was…a smell. It was a smell unlike any other smell I had ever smelled in my house. It was a smell with personality. It was insidious and pervasive – somehow, it was everywhere and nowhere all at the same time.

Find the Smell

EVERYWHERE.

I did eventually find the source.

Found the Stink

They are very, very happy dogs. Like, all the time.

The smell floated around our dogs like an odoriferous aura. It didn’t seem to come directly off of the dogs, but rather wafted from their surroundings. So I did what any rational person would do – I washed them.^^^
^^^With help. From the person in the house who is actually good at washing dogs.

Scrub the Dogs

This doodle implies far less water everywhere than actual dog washing entails.

And everything was great.

Clean Dogs

I should not be allowed to draw dogs.

For about half a day. And then the smell started to return to our house.

Nothing Works

We tried all of these things. ALL OF THEM.

We tried everything from baking soda and carpet cleaning to dry dog shampoo. Nothing banished the smell. It would leave for a day, maybe two, but then it would slowly start to seep back into our home. It lingered around our dogs like an aura. And that’s how I figured out what’s going on.

Our dogs are being haunted by a stinky ghost, and now it’s stuck in our house.

Stinky Ghost

Actual photo

Let me explain.

Our dogs are explorers. They love to play with other dogs, and run around the yard a million billion times. They love to lay in the grass and try to eat bugs.^^^^
^^^^And sometimes turtles and snakes, but they aren’t very good at that, so don’t worry.

They love to sniff out new smells and make new friends.

Stinky Ghost Meets Dog

Stinky ghosts are very friendly.

Clearly, my dogs have made friends with a wild stinky ghost.^^^^^
^^^^^This is not a type of Pokemon. Do not try to catch it while playing Pokemon Go.

Stinky Ghost and Dog are Friends

This says “Want to be best friends?”

And they brought it home.

Ghost Follows You Home

I have been drawing houses like this for my entire life.

And now it lives with us.

Stinky Ghost Haunts Couch

Yes, our dogs do look this pleased with themselves. All. The. Time. They are very happy.

It may never leave.

Stinky Ghost Forever

Stinky ghosts love to follow you everywhere.

This is the only reasonable explanation for the new smell my dogs have introduced to the household. My cats, on the other hand, continue to simply smell of cat and carefully coat our entire house in fur.

Dogs are so unpredictable.


An Aside About the Stinky Ghost
(for people who want to ruin all the magic in the world)

Continue reading

I’ve Decided I’m Not Ready for the Future, Guys

Or: It’s Possible Technology Is Beyond Me

I usually think I’m pretty on the ball with all the cool toys living in the future has shared with me. I love my fancy magical smartphone. I clearly enjoy the Internet. Video streaming has enabled me to completely stop going outside in the summertime.*
*In my defense, nature is out to get me all spring and summer long.

But let’s be honest. I draw my doodles on Post-its, which were invented in 1974, with pens. Like, regular, school-supply style pens.**
**I do not know when these were invented. Sometime after the whole quill-and-ink system, I bet.

Tah Dah

You know, like this.

This is not a very high-tech solution for getting illustrations onto a blog. So I decided that maybe it’s time for an update. Maybe I should be using technology to make my technology-enabled hobby happen.

I bought a sketching tablet.**
**Like, an affordable one. I draw stick figures, guys. This isn’t exactly high-end art.

 

Want to see how it’s going, guys?

Tablet Drawing 1

Like, more awkward than normal. By a lot.

Not great. It’s going not great.

Tablet Drawing 2

I thought typed text might help. Nope.

I’m not a quitter. But I’d like to provide a little bit of comparison here.

What is happening

This is pretty meta, right?

Well, maybe it’s not so bad…

Are you OK

Ok, the typed text DOES kind of help.

Nope nope nope. It’s pretty bad.

Supposed to be me

Pixels. I have to worry about pixels now.

A blog jump into the future may take awhile, guys. Because I am clearly not ready for the technologies of the future.***
***My drawing tablet is apparently from 2010. I’m not ready for the technologies of 6 years ago.

I have to go practice living in the future.

Working Together as a Team Is a Challenge, Guys

Or: It’s Really Hard to Play Together as Adults

When I was little, getting together as a group was fun. Somehow, my friends and I would always end up trying to accomplish something.*
*”Something” including achievements like “climbing ladders” and “pretending to be Thundercats.”

Projects at 5

This is a recreation of actual events. Age 5

Things stayed pretty positive through the teen years. Group projects meant hanging out, over-caffeinating, and pretending we definitely got productive things done.**
**While also methodically ignoring whatever the point of the project was, until the last minute, where we each decided we’d done all the work on our own, without any help from each other.

Projects at 15

Age 15

But by the time college rolled around, things got sort of confusing…

Arguments at 21

Age 21. Definitely age 21.

…Because it’s really hard to technically be arguing when pizza is involved, but it’s also hard to accomplish anything while tipsy*** on the floor.
***Let’s be honest. By the time you’re on the floor, tipsy was a few drinks ago.

Then came the working world. In my head, the corporate world would be full of intrigue, professionalism and productive meetings.

Arguments at 11

Age 25

It was not.

But now, technology has made professional group projects even more fun.

Arguments at 31

Age 31. We live in the future, guys.

Mostly by giving us all more ways to argue with each other.

Life Lesson 10,143: Internet Service Providers Are Better at Revenge Than You

Or: That One Time I Really Regretted Scheduling Something in Advance

Because I have been spoiled by technology and first world niceties, I get to work from home a lot. This is just the absolute best thing, y’all.

Hard at Work

Do you not awkwardly stick your tongue out while typing? Is that not a thing?

Except that it means I have to spend all day on my at-home Internet connection. Which I used to think was really great – all fast and shiny and responsive – before I started working from home.

 

The Fastest Internet

Like this! So fast! So shiny!

It is not fast and shiny and responsive, guys. And it slowly got slower and slower and slower…for two years.*
*Which is definitely why I didn’t blog for two years. Definitely. Not because of laziness or forgetfulness. It’s all the Internet’s fault, I swear.

So I did what any reasonable person would do. I stole all of my husband’s** account information so that I could be the boss of the Internet connection in our house, and called my ISP.***
**Oh, yeah, I totally got married in the past two years. Was that not mentioned? 
***This stands for “Internet Service Provider.” It is a nice way to say “company I give all my money to.” 

Politestest Mad

Eyelashes illustrate how delightfully polite I was. The first seventeen times.

Things did not improve. I called, and called again. Promises were made and routers were reset. I defended my ability to turn things off and then on again.

Slightly mad at Phone

There are an unreasonable amount of ink dots on this set of Post-its.

Nothing got better.

Polite Mad

Eventually all of my polite eyelashes fell out.

Not even a little bit.

Slow Internet

Don’t pretend that you don’t have a “the Internet is being slow” face.

Finally, it was time for serious action. Finally, it was time for me to break up with my ISP. I didn’t want to be a heartless monster, but I did want my Internet to work. You know, so I could work.

So I made a plan, and set up a start date for a different ISP to come and give me all the Internet.

I didn’t want to be too harsh on my current ISP, though. I wanted to give them some warning. So I called and told them the bad news. We could no longer be together, as of next Monday. But we needed to stay together until then, because it was currently Wednesday, and I still had work to do. We could still be together for six days, so they had time to fill the hole I left with another valued customer. My ISP cried softly****, but honored my wishes.
****Spent a lot of time trying to up-sell me other things like phone service and TV.

Why oh Why

Oh wait…

Or rather, they turned my Internet off immediately. In the middle of a work day. Ten minutes before a meeting.

It clearly must have been a mistake. So I called them.

ANGRY AT PHONE

Very calmly. I called them very, very calmly.

This, of course, marking the 37th***** call I had made to them in the past six months.
*****This is the actual number of times. Not an exaggeration.

 

This was no simple accident made by customer service, it turned out. They’d burned their bridges. They’d salted the earth. They’d somehow backdated my end-of-service date to be two months ago. They couldn’t re-open my account…so if I wanted Internet (for the next six days), I needed to open a new account.

I had no choice. If I didn’t accept their terms, I couldn’t work. So I opened this new account, amidst promises that the service would be instantly restored and better than ever before, and I could cancel my account in six days and get all my money back.

Angry Internet

ISPs: Not really good at fixing things.

Thus, my slow Internet was restored. And six days later, I once again called and broke up with my ISP, and followed all their post-breakup instructions.

And I have spent the last eight months calling my ISP to assure them that yes, I have indeed broken up with them, with both accounts, and I do not in fact owe them any money.

I am still getting bills.

And that is how I learned that ISPs are much, much better at revenge than I am.

I’ve Been a Little Bit of a Procrastinator…

Or: Holy Smokes, Guys. Has It Really Been This Long?

…Crickets…Crickets…

"Site Closed" is like "Caution" tape, but for the internet

Seriously. It’s been like, two years. TWO.

…Crickets…Cri-

IMG_7886

TWO.

Uh oh.

IMG_7887

Easiest. Doodle. Ever.

This can’t be good.

IMG_7888

This bit right here. Just this bit. You can have the rest.*

*If you promise to be very, very responsible with it.

Well, it can’t be good for you.

IMG_7889

But it might be!

But it’s definitely good for me.

Mostly because I really need to get all these colorful post-its off my desk and on to the Internet. It’s the only safe place for them.