I decided to dedicate this second posting to the most loyal roommate I’ve ever had- my dog, Kim.  Kimberly Joy, actually, and named after a childhood friend (because when we got in trouble, her mother would always yell, "Kimberly Joy!" and it stayed with me).  I’d never tell her that I named my dog after her though- I think its probably not a very flattering thing to tell someone.

For those of you who haven’t had the privilege of meeting my crazy canine in person, I’ll give you some of the basic details.  I adopted her from the Humane Society here in Lawrence last year after a tearful trip with Talia (we were just supposed to go and LOOK for dogs, not necessarily bring one home).  Less than an hour later I had signed the paperwork and was taking what would be the first of many trips to Petco to get her the necessities, and a few not-so-necessary necessities.

Kim is a lab/beagle mix.  Maybe.  At any rate, when she stands still her head still bounces up and down, so she has been labeled a Bobbleheaded Beagledor.  Close enough.  Our latest vet trip revealed that she’s right at 33 lbs and in perfect health- amazing because I’m fairly certain that my roommate, Aaron, sneaks enough "people food" to her to have her become a dog balloon.  Luckily we go for lots of walks.

Unlike the sweet, well-behaved creature I rescued so valiantly from her cage at the Humane Society, Kim actually turned out to be a lot of work to train.  She now answers to the name, "Monster," and acts accordingly, although I was just bragging to Tim about her newest tricks (she can sit, stay, come, shake with both paws- but not at the same time, jump up vertically about 5 feet, and jump through a hoop).  Her tricks, naturally, are only done if and when she feels like doing them- or if there is a food incentive.  And never if there is a distraction, such as a bunny, cat, dog, person, squirrel, living creature, non-living thing that is moving…you name it.  If there was ever a dog who might have ADD, this is the one, folks.

Kim can also run at least 27 miles per hour.  I’ve clocked her against my car (in a safe but accurate manner).  She was still smiling while she was running though, which led me to believe she wasn’t trying her hardest.  She likes to run the fastest when she gets off her leash by accident, or escapes through a miniscule crack in a door that someone has left open.  When that happens, I automatically start cancelling whatever I’m supposed to be doing for the next two hours, because that’s how long it takes to find her back.  Luckily, I can take her out to the soccer fields, and while I’m laying stripes, she can run without a leash, which she loves.  Its really too bad that she also loves rolling in anything that smells like sewage or manure or dead animal.  I’m quite certain I would be happier not having to carry her up to the bathroom at arm’s length when we get home to wash off whatever she’s most recently decided to decorate herself with.  Occasionally, I tie her up at the fields to a tree with a long length of rope, in which case she gets mad, pouts, and then digs mercilessly at the ground (she’s either going for China or trying to uproot the tree, I haven’t figure out which).  The last time I did it, she got so frustrated that she had dug herself into a hole that was up to her neck before I got all the way around the perimeter of the field.  Ridiculous mutt.

On the plus side, Kim is incredibly adorable (like a lab puppy that will stay that size forever!) and really sweet and loving.  She’s scared of lightning and is currently hiding under my feet because the neighbors are shooting off celebratory graduation fireworks.  She’s warm and soft, loves to cuddle all the time, and spoons in bed (she slept on her dog bed for part of the first night I had her before I gave up on that).  She loves all people and is great with kids, especially the ones at the farmer’s market who feed her fancy organic dog treat creations in return for a "sit" or "shake."  She launches herself off the stairs at me when I come in the door, so excited to see me whether I’ve been gone for days, hours, or just a minute to run out to the car (leading me to believe that she probably has a memory span similar to that of a goldfish).  She is loyal and fun and hilarious with her squeaky soccer ball, and gives me something to counter with when my older brother tells me about his two children and their newest developments.  Anyone who has seen her can attest to the fact that she really is a great dog, and if you haven’t seen her yet, stop on by- she loves strangers as much as anyone…as long as you’re not the mailman.

I’ll add pictures as soon as someone tells me how.

Welcome to my first post on my first blog.  Ever.  I’m really excited.

I have it on good authority that blogging is a good way to relieve stress.  I think I’m going to like it, since I like keeping a journal but don’t like that little indentation on my finger that starts to hurt when I write for too long.  But typing? I can do that all day.

Anyway, you are going to be subjected to my random thoughts from here on out.  I will probably ponder the meaning of life, reminisce about amazing experiences, vent about frustrations (namely, my boss) and will at some point in the near future use this material as the start of the talk show that I will inevitably host, since the Myers-Briggs test told me it was my destiny to be a talk show host or a flight attendant).

I’m not going to bother introducing myself, since you (hopefully) won’t be reading this unless you already know me.  Or if you are a stalker that tries to find random people’s blogs and reads them for fun, in which case I’m not going to introduce myself because I’d rather we didn’t know each other. I will try to actually write a real blog very soon, so that you have quality reading material to reflect on when you’re at work, or to inspire you to blog on your own.  Incidentally, "blog" is a horrible word.  Wikipedia just confirmed that its a shortened form of "web log," but I’m certain that someone could have found a more appealing term to use.  I’ll try to come up with one, and I’ll let you know.