To discuss a two-part Weekend Update: Part II

This is the second part of an extended Weekend Update. Check here for Part I.

• I've had more musical practices for "Sound of Music." Even in a musical, it's ridiculous having children singing all about "jam and bread." That sounds straight out of "Barney" or "The Elephant Show."*
  
• My director wants me to grow a mustache for my role as Max. I did not inquire if he wants the mustache to have handlebars, entice children, lead to porn star roles or give me an upperhand on any possible Magnum P.I. movies. To reduce Capricorn's embarrassment level and to prevent myself from getting mistaken for a Megan's Law offender, I'm growing a goatee and will shave the bottom half right before the show. That still gives me several days with only a mustache (yes, there will be photos), but I plan on singing on command for anyone who is dubious of my explanation.
  
• It's a shame Hitler ruined the Charlie Chaplin 'stache.
• Capricorn has started moving things in, and has an entire wall-length closet to herself. It is my hope she doesn't soon decide that's not enough space and force me to remove the clothes from my closet and store them outside. We're looking at 50/50 odds.
• Capricorn and I hit the eight month mark on Saturday. We're firmly entrenched in the "too many months to make it worth noticing, not enough months to make it worth celebrating." We're in relationship purgatory. I imagine this is how Catholics celebrate most anniversaries, except with an added dose of guilt.
• In a family outing of sorts, my brother, sister and her boyfriend, Capricorn and I went out to lunch Sunday, then to my brother's new place to play Wii. We all had little to no experience Wii-ing, so it was more a comedy of errors. I recommend Wii Play and its Duck Hunt mini-game, although the updated version of this classic has far fewer ducks and now includes beer cans to shoot at.... There was also a racial profiling mini-game, where you are supposed to pick out people in a group who look alike, a game I'm sure is used to train airport security. To hit the red state trifecta, there was also a mini-game where you ride a cow, as Nintendo evidently missed the memo that you are supposed to save the horse by riding a cowboy.*
• We took a group trip to IKEA. At the mere mention of my IKEA visit to neighbors and to Facebook friends, I got "I'm jealous" reactions, which makes me wonder if having a job at IKEA is akin to retail utopia.
• If IKEA bought Ford and Chevy, I think we might just pull Detroit out of its funk, although United Auto Workers would suffer massive layoffs. "Sweet ride, dude. The Chevy IMMPÄLLA is a real smooth ride... and can be assembled in 8 simply steps with just a screwdriver!"**
• I fulfilled my promise to Capricorn by going to the doctor to get a check-up (haven't had one in years) and to see about my headaches. The doctor enters the room...Doctor: "So... you're here for a check-up?" Me: "Yep." Doctor: "I don't get a lot of 26-year-olds coming in for check-ups. You really want a check-up?" Me (now worried I did something wrong): "Um, yep." Doctor: "You sure that's what you need?" Me: (He knows about the meth! He knows about the meth!) "Yeah, that's what I want." ... Eventually I told him about the headaches and whatnot and everything was fine. I do have to go in for some bloodwork, which I hope will be done by Olivia Wilde.***

* Skinamarinkydinkydink is street for "I'd hit it." Don't let Bram fool you. He wasn't singing that to Sharon and Lois for nothing.
* That would be a top-selling Wii game. You'd buy it. Be honest.
*** It can be picked up in Aisle 33, Bin 3. Right next to the Ford EXPPLLÖRERD.
**** Just kidding Capricorn. I'd settle for Katherine Heigl.*****
***** But not the Heigl whose character has sex with dead people and has brain cancer. First season Heigl.

Bonus for IKEA fanatics: Visit this site. Thank me later.

To discuss Weekend Update Part II: Fat cats, small dogs, shaved dignity

PetSmart has a special place in my heart.
It's where Capricorn and I went on our second date (as detailed here). It also marks the place I realized Capricorn loves putting outfits on small dogs, such as Bailey, my chiweenie. Coincidentally, it marks the place I realized Bailey hates wearing outfits.
So whenever Capricorn and I make a return visit, as we did this past weekend (here's Part I of the Weekend Update), it's always memorable.
We brought Bailey with us, as well as Capricorn's chihuahua, Leo. We're slowly getting Bailey and Leo to become best friends, although Capricorn doesn't like it when Leo sniffs Bailey's manhood. She wants them to be friends, not friends with gay benefits. I've caught them spooning before, too.

Two things always happen when I bring Bailey to PetSmart:

• He goes No. 2 within 10 minutes. He didn't fail me this time, either. We think it's because he gets nervous being around other dogs, as it's not like him to open butt fire in a public place like that. At least he doesn't do what daddy does when he gets nervous. Nobody likes a drunk doggie... Just kidding. I don't drink when I get nervous. I do crystal meth.
• Shoppers come up and say how cute he is. This would be fun, except Bailey is protective of me and growls. Leo, however, eats this up. He'll take attention wherever he can get it, like a Real World castmate doing their 6th season of The Gauntlet even though they're 40 and balding.

This time, however, a little boy came up to me while I was holding Bailey.
"Hey, is that the dog from 'Beverly Hills Chihuahua'?" the boy asked.
Bailey looked up at me like, "This kid rides the short bus."
"No, no, not quite, dude. He's a chihuahua, but not the one on the movie," I replied before hatching a plan to make Bailey a famous star.

As Capricorn and I made our way to the back of the store, we saw the captive cats. None of these cats ever look happy to be there. But at least I can tell PetSmart is feeding them well, as evident by this cat to the right. It must weigh over 20 pounds.
If the cat was a child, his parents would tell him God loves him just the way he is and he doesn't have to change but if he could lay off the chocolates a little bit that would be great so mommy and daddy don't have to hide his pudgy tummy on the beach. Since he's a cat, though, I was allowed to point and laugh at the fatty catty. The cat was larger than Leo and Bailey combined.

Capricorn had been worried about Leo escaping through an open doorway during my moving day, coming up at the end of the month. She wanted him around, but didn't want to carry him. Her idea: Get a puppy pouch.
This idea lasted about 20 seconds after she put on one of these bags and declared that she looked pregnant.
I had a brief thought that I should tell her to put her shirt over Leo, take a photo, send it to my mom and say, "Surprise, Grandma!"
That also lasted about 20 seconds, as I love my mother and would feel remorse if I gave her a heart attack.

If you ever want to watch something pathetic, watch any episode of Rock of Love Bus observe fluffy dogs getting hair cuts.
I just can't think the dogs want to look like they are Sheer Genius rejects. Bailey never needs hair cuts, so I'm fortunate there.
But if he did, I don't think I'd ask for the "You know what? Shave off everything except the tail and the face. I want his body to look like someone squished the middle of a Twinkie."
Is there a reality show about dog groomers? There must be, right? Please let me know, so I can boycott it.
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All right, I need to get back to packing. Moving is not fun. I hear rich people just call someone to pack up there stuff and move it for them. Yet another reason to despise the wealthy... Unless I become wealthy. I am not above retracting statements.

To discuss a Week(long) Update: Hospitals, Furloughs and I'm an idiot

Rather than a small, day-old Weekend Update, I need to recap what happened to me all of last week, if only so I can look back at this post five years from now and remember.

Monday: Find out our company is instituting five-day furloughs (forced, unpaid days off, like a temporary lay-off). Actually, we found out just before we left work Friday, so we'd have the weekend to freak out about it and be calm by Monday. That plan, just like in Office Space, doesn't work. We were still buzzing about it like furloughs are the new Watchmen.

Five unpaid days means I'll have to be even tighter on a budget that right now consists of me going: "I'd love to get the $5 footlong, as the advertising jingle makes the sandwich seem both irresistible and financially viable, but that's an extra $1.50 I shouldn't really spend. Six-inch, please." And that's with me being fully employed with no kids. Capricorn is still several years away from being my sugar momma, so I'll instead have to cut back for now. This means fewer Shamrock Shakes. I'm not sure how to break the news to McDonalds and their employees, who will likely need to be furloughed.

Spent a long, long night watching three hours of "The Bachelor," which was ABC's way of punishing Americans for their sins. They could've edited everything into 20 minutes of programming. At least it made for good play-by-plays.

Tuesday: For the second Tuesday in a row, I get a migraine headache, even though I never used to get a migraine.

It's an odd feeling, because I started out the day with a mild headache, the kind usually reserved for putting off sexual relations. By the end of the work day, my eyes had trouble focusing, all the lights seemed bright, my temples were pulsing and I felt feverish. Most people would pass this off as a case of the VH1's, but I don't drink like those people. I spent much of the evening napping... which creates problems when it's actually time to go to sleep. Fortunately, I had American Idol on Tivo and Shamwow infomercials to keep me company. Side note: Capricorn is buying a Shamwow for me. I want one. Badly.

Wednesday: I was tired but felt better. That is, until late in the afternoon when I got a call from my mom about my younger brother being taken to the emergency room for a collapsed lung. Considering he's a healthy, strong guy, this was crazy talk, but I brushed off the notion that my mom had suddenly lost her mind. That only happens to Britney. I left work early and spent the next several hours with my bro, who wasn't in life-or-death state but wasn't in great shape either. Or, better put, on a scale of one to death, he was a 6.

His co-workers and my sister came, too, as we're the closest family members by distance. This does beg the question, if you were admitted to the hospital with a severe condition, who do you think would be the first three people to arrive, and would you necessarily want it to be those three? Ponder this.

I left after everything got under control, and spent the next few hours doing the Top Model play-by-play, partly to calm down, partly for all of you.

Thursday: Work was incredibly busy, so much so that I couldn't leave early to go back to the hospital (about 30 minutes away). Eventually, I left and spent several more hours with my bro, who was under all kinds of pain medication that I'm sure high schoolers are using to get high these days. At this point, my bro had figured out when the hot nurses were on shift and tried to time the pain medication delivery for when they were around. He was sick, but not stupid. Also find out that tall, skinny males like him are prone to collapsed lungs, which makes me fear for NBA players, Conan O'Brien and Cameron Diaz.
Came back late and spent another long night on Top Model and The Office blogs.

Friday: Find out that instead of the 30 days to vacate notice I assumed was needed for my landlord (lease is up end of March), I actually was required to give 60 days, so I'll be paying double rent in April after I move. Considering this was purely me being an idiot, I'm thrilled with myself, as I haven't seen money that quickly wasted since Congress did... well, just about anything in the past three months.

By now, furlough has become the word de jour in the office, and we are using it as a verb, adjective, adverb and everything else: "Hey, is so-and-so out sick today?" "Nope, he was furloughing." "I ran out of tampons." "Just put your period on furlough." I also staged an emergency furlough drill in which I huddled under my desk and covered my head.

Went to the hospital, this time with Capricorn. My mom, aunt and cousin drove in from a few hours away as well. In my family, we get together for holidays, deaths and hospital visits. I think it's my turn to get gravely ill next time. It's how you keep a family strong. That, and gossiping.

Saturday: Capricorn's parents came to my town so she and I could show them the apartment we'll be living in together. The spare bedroom is being renamed the "Blog Room," which will kind of be my Fortress of Solitude, except I won't wear a cape yeah, I will when I'm there. The parents like the place, and take us out to dinner afterward. Free meal? Sign me up!

Sunday: Spent most of the day going, "Wow, why is it so late already?" before remembering Daylight Saving Time is over. Spent the other part of the day reading Cosmo (recap here) and Maxim (recap soon), and realizing how awesome my girlfriend is for being cool with me reading Cosmo and Maxim. And how confused she must be. Also, I put up a new poll asking for your advice.
My brother finally comes home from the hospital, now doing better. He also gave one of the hot nurses his number, despite the fact he spent several days hooked up to tubes with a bedpan nearby. I'm proud of him on multiple levels.

So... yeah, it's been a little off-the-wall. I'd ask for a do-over, but I'd rather reserve that for when things really get bad. Or when Kim Kardashian gets her own NBC sitcom.