September Remembered

It seems like September is a hard month for a lot of people. Green Day hates the month so much, they want to sleep through the whole thing and not wake up until it’s over.

But in my little neck of the woods, September is (mostly) splendid. Rather than simply telling you about it, I think the photos and screenshots I’ve taken on my phone over the past 30 (well, 28) days will paint a pretty good picture.

Warning: this post contains some vague and confusing nudity.    

September 3
While watching Silver Linings Playbook, I realized that young Bradley Cooper bares a strikingly creepy resemblance to a person I used to be quite close with, but now haven’t spoken to in 6 years. That guy’s probably in prison by now. Not even kidding.  Just to clarify, it’s the former friend who’s probably in prison –  not Bradley Cooper. I mean, Bradley Cooper COULD be in prison right now, I don’t really know.

How much do ANY of us know about him, really?


September 4
Celebrated my mom’s birthday weekend with lots of mother-daughter shenanigans. Happy Birthday, Cheese Mom! Sorry for any blog-related shame I’ve brought you, and will continue to bring you, for an indefinite period of time!

Also, thank you for providing such good material.

Yes, her shirt does say “Nope.” I like to to think she takes after me.

September 9
I completed all of my clinical hours for FULL licensure as a professional counselor (as opposed to a lowly counselor intern). First, I celebrated in my office with a mini dance party,  which was witnessed by a bewildered handyman walking by.

Later, I celebrated with potatoes and pretty drinks, just like our forefathers would have wanted.


September 10
I began a new and weird research project about personality disorders. It was a slow start.


September 11
I admitted that I am powerless against the mighty Cheeto.


September 12
Happy Birthday to one of my best friends, who will always and forever be 12 days older than I am, which I will hold over her until the day I die. Or until the day she dies, since she’s so much older and wrinklier.

Rather than putting up a picture of her, I have included this drawing that I made of her when we were 10. She’s the only one with hair.

I don’t know who all the bald people are, or why everyone’s naked. I’m now a little concerned about my 10-year-old self.


September 16
Celebrated my birthday (early) at an outdoor bar. Bacon-covered cheese and alcoholic beverages were involved. So were dogs. Lots and lots of dogs.



September 22
These birthday presents from mah cheese wife and her kids do a pretty good job of demonstrating my personality. You’re looking at a dolphin nightshirt and a tortilla warmer with a chicken on it. In the past, I’ve used foil to keep my tortillas warm, like some kind of miserable peasant. Now, not only will my carb vehicles be kept toasty, they will look good while doing it. This festive feathery bastard is really going to liven things up in my kitchen.


A note to my friends and family:  please refrain from buying me chicken-themed  items in the future. The fact that I like this particular chicken does not mean I wish to start hoarding them.

September 24
At last, my birthday! I went shopping, ate too many treats, and petted some more dogs. Needless to say, it was a pretty excellent day.

It’s been a whirlwind 30 (okay, 28) days of festivities, food, and fur babies! It hasn’t been perfect, but it’s been just nice enough to make me forget about that whole persistent eyelid infection thing. Which I still have, you guys. I’m going to need some more Cheetos.

Ode to Dolphins

I’m a tad fond of dolphins.

That may be a bit of an understatement, given that this entire post is about my affection for them. I think they’re amazing animals, and if I could ethically (and financially and realistically) keep one as a pet in my apartment, I would jump on that opportunity.



What’s not to like? They’re friendly, they save stupid drowning humans, and they’re incredibly intelligent. They’re also very loyal to their friends, and happen to be a bit slutty. Based on these facts, I’m pretty certain that dolphins would do really well in college. (Who wouldn’t want to be sitting next to a dolphin in their quantum physics class? It’s such a shame that universities discriminate against animals.)


Anyway, this totally normal obsession of mine goes way back. When I was a kid, I had a Barbie that could kick her legs and swim in the bathtub; she was pretty awesome all on her own, but the best part was that she was accompanied by a special plastic friend – a dolphin. He had a little switch on his belly, and when you pushed it down, he emitted a high-pitched dolphiny whistle. He was fabulous, and I loved him.

So handsome, so lifelike.

Interestingly, I can do a pretty good impression of a dolphin, and I’m sure I owe this talent to that toy.

In elementary school, I had Lisa Frank lunchboxes and folders depicting hot pink and purple dolphins majestically jumping into the air (ahhh, the 90s). I daydreamed about being a marine biologist or dolphin trainer and getting to play with them every day.

Sadly, I didn’t end up becoming a dolphin trainer, but it’s still one of my goals in life to swim with dolphins, even though I’m pretty certain I will cry the entire time. With joy, that is.

Shortly after graduating from high school, I took a trip to Sea World in San Diego, and got to touch a dolphin’s face for the first time. It felt rubbery and wonderful. She smiled. I smiled. We had a connection.

Photo from my trip – my hand is the less-fancy one.

While vacationing in Gulf Shores, Alabama last summer, I managed to (accidentally) catch a live starfish with my bare hands. It was truly one of the coolest things I’ve ever experienced, and I have to say – other people on the beach were totally jealous. When I later recounted the story to my father (and labeled it as the Coolest Thing Ever), he thoughtfully stroked his beard, and then asked, “but what if you’d caught a baby dolphin?”

We both agreed that I probably would have suffered a stroke from the sheer amazingness of it all.


And now, a little poem about those rubbery, slutty creatures:

Oh dolphin, my dolphin
You are so very cute
From the tip of your nose
To the ends of your fluke

You can swim really fast
You can jump pretty high
You can live to be 50,
(And that’s not a lie).

Half of your brain stays up
While the rest is asleep,
So you can get some air
And watch for threats that creep.

You’re a lot like humans:
You like to tease and play
You tend to be slutty
And some of you are gay.

Lots of you have best friends,
Some of you care for your sick,
And just like we humans,
Some of you can be di- …uh, jerks.

Dolphins, you’re amazing
I want one as a pet
The only problem is,
You would have to stay wet.