Sean and I have a small garden going with different herbs, spices, and veggies…pretty bad ass. I say this because we’ve been needing some additional pots and I decided to peruse the local farmer’s market where I happened to run into daddy dearest…he was in the middle of haggling some sweet old lady but made time to show me his sweaty wad of hard earned hundreds…then he showed off his cast-free arm (he’d been in a recent car accident and sustained a badly broken arm from the ordeal)…..”Check it out”, my dad said as he stretched his arm out in a few different directions, “Doctors said it would never come back 100%….but I made a miracle happen, Mary. The doctors..they say it’s a miracle. ” Alright..

“You need a purse? I got purses.” No thanks, Atef. “Don’t eat. We’ll go to Golden Corral for dinner.” Alright. Atef loves Golden Corral. I hinted the notion that I perceived Golden Corral to be a little seedy, but my dad was immediately insulted. “Listen Mary, I’ve been to a lot of Golden Corral’s…all along the east coast, and the one here (in Jax) is by far the nicest…you know, they serve blue cheese at this one, you show me where I’m gonna find that shit-all you can eat- for 9 dollars. Fuck that shit.” Alright..Golden Corral it is..

We get there and it’s immediate flashback to fifth grade. “Mary, go get yourself some steak, this buffet price includes meat.” I remind him that I still don’t eat meat. “Since when with this shit?” Two years, dad. He gives me that oh-so familiar you-always-find-new-ways-to-disappoint-me look…

Dinner inevitably turned into sleepover. In fact, him and Teta are all comfy, snoring in my bed as I type. My dad was worried he’d have trouble falling asleep, so he asked me about my new job…I got two lines into my description and he was gone (Teta rolled over as soon I had begun talking). Babylon is on the floor with me for the night. Honestly though, I did somewhat enjoy spending the evening with Atef and Teets. I feel like despite all the untold, uncalculated hours of therapy I’ll eventually have to pay for (for the cumulative effect his presence in my life has had) there is something to be said for the fact I can still (and sometimes do) smile at his way of being.


It can’t all be roses, I’ve always known that. Lately, however, I’ve been wondering how much better life could get. I love everything about my new job; my coworkers, the benefits, and the mission itself. I come home to wonderful home-cooked dinners. I have plenty of time to read. I get to channel my creativity into my work. So what’s there to complain about? Not much..

Well, alright. It’s my home life. Dynamics among the infamous triad, Babylon-Sean-Marebear have, well, left me wondering where I went wrong…especially with raising Baby. Don’t get me wrong, Baby is the love of my life..a genuine blue-ribbon show dog by all’s just…well, he treats Sean like dried up dog shit. Really condescending and uber-critical of every move Sean makes…and Sean has made more than one phone call to me on the job to let me know what kind of antics Babylon has been pulling. Like just today, Sean was taking Baby on his mid-afternoon stroll when Baby decided to shit on a neighbor’s yard while the neighbor was visiting with a friend in his garage, entirely in view. Sean, embarrassed, tugged on Baby’s leash and had to basically drag him back onto the street wherein Baby, in an act of defiance and rebellion, proceeded to drag and smear his shit all over the street cement…and of course the phone call I received from Sean informing me of the quarrel only increased the tension brewing between them…

Fast forward to my coming home, Baby’s got his ‘I shit above the hole’ face on and Sean, having taken to the temporary role of trophy wife (while job hunting) is making a point to recap the havoc Baby has wreaked over the course of the day…I had come home to a regular shit-show. Sean continues to threaten I’ll come home to him, ‘drinking mojitos with the old ladies out by the pool’ and giving me the stink-eye, silent treatment while serving dinner…trophy wife behavior..trophy wife blues, I mean I have empathy..but honestly. I’m not too worried yet, the only friend Sean made in the neighborhood so far is Eeeee (pronounced like the long E sound…hence the spelling)…and Eeeee is definitely not the cookie-cutter, trophy wife type…

Babylon has yet to make any friends, but thats largely his own fault. He refuses to branch out and explore his options. He thinks dogs are primitive, he’s taken to hours of lounging around and is definitely gaining weight (not that I’d ever dare tell him that). He’s going for a grooming appointment tomorrow, I promised him quality one-on-one time since Sean is out of town. Babylon has expressed his disdain for what he refers to as Sean’s so-called ‘Daddy Dreams’…Well, it can’t always be roses. I’ve always known that.

Sean and Baby vacationing on Mommy's tab...

Sean and Baby vacationing on Mommy’s tab…

Oh, you’ll know


Sean is cleaning and packing up stuff in his bedroom and I need an excuse not to help out..again. I thought this would be a good time to discuss the time-ole question: How do you know it’s love?  It wasn’t till as recently as yesterday that I knew Sean really must love me. Don’t get me wrong, he had dropped some noteworthy hints over the past few years; creative gifts, constant attention, outright declarations of undying love, appreciation, loyalty, dedication, encouragement, moving in with me, sharing his life with me….like I said, noteworthy hints that maybe this cat had a thing for lil ole me, but certainly nothing written in stone (or blood, preferrably). Until yesterday. So what sealed the deal? Well, we were driving over to Brooksville from Jacksonville with a recently purchased cheese pizza sitting on Sean’s lap. Since I was driving, Sean had the duty of distributing slices. First round slices, I notice Sean gave me the larger slice (fluke, I thought to myself..or the fool just isn’t paying attention). Then, second round slices happen…again, I get the larger slice..third and last round, same deal. When it’s all said and done, Sean collects napkins, closes up the box, looks at me smiling and says, “Look Mare-bear, you got all the biggest slices.” Keeping my eyes on the road and hands on the wheel, I nonchalantly asked, “Mare-bear the winner?” and Sean instantly reassured, “Yes, Mare-bear’s the winner. Mare-bears always the winner.” Well that shit got right to me, you know. Thinking back on the beginning of the relationship and how I was shy to even eat a slice of pizza infront of him, let alone eat as much as him infront of mid-relationship where secret was out of the bag that my appetite dwarfed little boi blue’s and who got the largest slice was determined by Darwin’s ‘survival of the fittest’ principle… yesterday, the day I finally realized Sean really loves me.

“Babylon used to spend hours barking aimlessly from his seat on the couch. We just assumed he was barking at something outside, that we just couldn’t see. It never crossed our minds that Babylon could be barking because he felt like nothing, inside…” –Concerned Dog Owner

DD Doggy Depression

DD, doggy depression, is often characterized by the following symptoms:

  •  Loss of appetite, increased appetite, and/or recurring eating patterns
  • Increased sleepiness, increased instances of sleeplessness, and/or recurring sleeping patterns
  • Sluggishness, excitability, nervousness, and/or any other percieved emotionality

       DD affects an estimated 95% of dogs between the ages of 0-100 at least once in their lifetime. What can you do to save your pet from unnecessary anguish? Well, you can begin by patting yourself on the back for becoming an informed pet owner. But don’t stop there, make sure to stay tuned for the upcoming pet pharmaceuticals’ line I’ll be introducing to treat DD and other lesser known, increasingly common, fabricated pet illnessess.

Posterchild for DD (doggy depression). Even in the midst of the perfect sunny day at the beach, amongst happy couples, Babylon cannot help but shed a tear...

Posterchild for DD (doggy depression). Even in the midst of the perfect sunny day at the beach, amongst happy couples, Babylon cannot help but shed a tear…

Mike’s Graduation


Today was Mike’s graduation and I had intended the theme of my orientation towards this momentous occasion to be a hybrid between nurturing, sophisticated older sibling and proud best friend. That being said, you cannot equip me with kiddy-crayons, drawing paper, and unlimited wine refills during a formal luncheon and expect my behavior to in any way reflect my age. I began polite enough, quietly sketching a lovely blue mountain scene on my corner of the paper table cloth (compliments of Macaroni Grill). One sangria and two pino grigios later, things had taken a turn for the worse… I had covered my end of the paper in all kinds of obscene profanities that would make even the most laid back waiter blush and couldn’t stop giggling at my inscription of the words, ‘Cary is a twat’ in big blue letters on one whole corner of the table (which I repeatedly poked Cary to show her, since that was funny as shit to drunk Mary)….Poor Care-Bear even had to deal with my trying to establish a game of footsies with her (sadly, when I’m drunk, there is only a very fine line between a hot peice of ass and next of kin)…After lunch, I said the word ‘twat’ a few more times in the van, giggled uncontrollably, apologized profusely for not being able to stop giggling, and then passed out. Regardless, my lack of poise and class shouldn’t cloud the facts: I’m so incredibly proud of Michael and I’m all about days like these where I get to feel myself swell up with such an overwhelming sense of unconditional love.

New Beginning


My first offical entry! Sean is cleaning his dorm room for the last time, and I had to find an excuse not to help clean. We’ve been soaking up as much of Deland as we can during these last few days before Sean graduates. We went to Deleon Springs with Care-Bear and Billy-Goat wherein I was the first person in recorded history to spot a wild otter swimming through the  springs and, thanks to me, people from all over the county that had come to visit our great land’s only documented ‘fountain of youth’ were able to witness this unprecedented miracle of life. My good deed for the day. Sean’s definitely got some seperation anxiety about parting with Stetson..who are we kidding, “some seperation anxiety”…the man’s a train wreck, I honestly can’t stand to see him like this. I tried to reassure him that life here would go on just fine without him…that no one would probably even realize he’s gone…..but that didn’t seem to help much. I for one am excited about the future…which, I mean, I only have a vague idea of what exactly ‘the future’ entails, but I have noticed that I’m getting uncomfortably close to embodying the traditional American Dream…homeowner, happily situated with my other half, and of course- Babylon- the cutest dog this side of the Mississippi… definitely the sense of a new beginning..


 In my head there's a greyhound station,
 Where I send my thoughts to far off destinations,
 So they may have a chance of finding a place
 where they're far more suited than here
-lyrics, DCC