We spent the last few days agonizing over what breed we were going to have. We looked at Akitas, Shibu-Inu, Corgis, and Labs. It seems that labs are spoken for before conception so getting one is more like finding an apartment in New York than adopting. Akitas have so much downy snow fur that we would have a cotton ball festival going on in the house, we decided to pare down the list. The Shibu’s are great but the closest breeder is hours away. We agreed to not get the first puppies we saw. That was the plan. Before we completely ruled out any other breeds for sure, we hit the paper looking for dogs from breeders. It just so happens that there was a corgi brood 8 weeks old an hour north of us in Belton, we had the pick as 8 of the 10 pups were still available. We were not going to get the first pups we saw.

Just “in case” we got pups, which we were NOT going to do, we went to Petco to get supplies. We would need them for whatever pups we got whenever that time came. A pen, bed etc. Not that it would be used that night.

We drove out into the sticks, turned right, went past the boondocks and ended up somewhere southwest of BFE. The breeders had like a real farm with horses and junk. We went into the house and saw the cutest bunch of little pups writhing around like furry bait. Gill made lots of that face she makes when she wants something real bad. We were locked in. 15 minutes later the car was about 8 pounds heavier.

Gill and I adopted 2 Pembroke Welsh Corgis last night. Their working titles are Sydney and Jones. Jones is slightly fatter and a little shy. Sydney acts brave but is the first to cry. This is not the first in a deluge of schmaltzy puppy pictures but I may send off one or two here and there. The one in Gill’s arms is Sydney, the tub on the floor is Jones.

It was a bit of a no-brainer. Corgi’s are a great breed, have a good temperament, pretty smart and their bat like ears are damn cute.

We’re working on getting them not to poop everywhere, or at least nowhere in the house. Its about 50/50 which is good for pups.

The first night of having the dogs had me up at 4:30 AM to take them out to poop. Pretty impressive, they’re in the crate, bark when they need to poop and go right to it once outside. Not bad for 9 weeks. The problem was with the back yard. The deck had no lattice so the pups could get right under it, thats not good.

Most people don’t think 7AM is very early. I would even guess that most people wake up for work at that time. Not me. Not now, not ever. 7AM is closer to the day before than the day ahead. Even having been up since 4:30, 7 still seemed early. I went off to Home Depot to get supplies, mesh, tools, staple guns etc to pup-proof the yard.

Home Depot is a majestic place regardless of time. a hundred thousand square feet of possibilities. Now consider that space when you’re the only person there. It was awesome. I did about 90 minutes and had to get home. Its easy to get into that Depot Zone.

It took about 45 minutes to screen off the whole deck. It went off without a hitch. Its good to use tools again. I felt very useful. The dogs don’t seem dead set to get under the house so I’m not terribly concerned anymore. I do need an excuse to go back to the Home D.

Poker night was a standing tradition until I left Austin. Coming back to town meant the resurrection. A resurrection isn’t proper without beer and lots of it. Makes the whole thing smoother. Gill and I went to World Market and pretty much looted the joint. That place is unreal. Their selection of food, condiments, beer, wine and odd stuff is great. Once of the nice things we picked up was a couple bottles of brown lager Heineken.

Everyone seemed to come about the same time, congregating outside in the driveway. Last night being the inaugural game I knew it was going to be a little hectic and some new faces would appear. As everyone headed into the house a new face did appear a fat, drunk, old, gross face. It took about 5 minutes to get what was going on. The neighbor’s wife, a tubbish woman in her forties with a taste for box wine and perceived persecution.

She just invited herself to the party. Sat down at the poker table and started yammering on. Already 5 glasses in, sloppy drunk, acting like a complete ass. Oblivious to any polite customs, she just plotted down, right in the middle of the first poker night.

Gill went off to the living room laptop and pups in tow. She hates stuff like that, she would rather not be around that kind of person. That left six guys to deal with the big elephant in the dining room, but I had an idea.

I got the word around the room that we were going to announce time to start the game and that everyone had to pony up the cash. $300 to get in. That would surely scare her off, back to the rock from whence she came. No such luck, she blathered something about using a cell phone, she wanted in. Fuck.

Plan B, the crappy plan was to be honest, polite but firm, its poker night, its guys night, its time to go.
“Hi, I forget your name, yeah, its poker night, a guys night, we’re about to start the game”

“Oh, so you want me to be quiet, ok”

“No, I’m sorry, I actually need you to clear out”

“Oh, don’t mind me I’ll go into the living room and play with the dog and talk to your wife” And she just walked off and sat next to Gill on the couch. Boom.

No one at the table made eye contact with me as I did this dirtiest of deeds. Mike just wanted her to split. He said that she had done this before. Just barges in, drinks the booze and talks about how everyone is against her. I met lots of hags like this when my father was in his pro drinking days. Old slags, steeped in cheap rum, hearing voices about how this neighbor is against her, that one fucks this person, this one is out to get her. Its just fucking boring and unoriginal. They linger like this until they die.

I couldnt leave Gill in there with the orca. I went in for another stab at it.
“Hi, yeah, you know, this is a private party, I am going to have to ask that you leave”

“I dint understand, I’m not bothering anyone”

“See, this is a boys night, its invite only, I’m sorry, some other time”

“Why are you being mean to me? This is Mikes house, he said I could be here”

“I’m not being mean to you, this isn’t your house, my wife and I live here, please, don’t make this more difficult than it has to be”

“This is mikes house, I don’t have to go. Why don’t you want me here? You want your wife here more than me?”

“Well being that she IS my wife, yes. I do”

“You’re an asshole, i didn’t do anything to you”

This was about to become an episode of Cops. I went back in to fetch Mike. I hated to drag him into it but this wasted cow was making everyone uncomfortable. Mike goes in and tells her sorry but shes a little too wasted and needs to split. She agrees to go but wants to finish her wine.

We get set up at the dining room table to play some poker. Tubbs is still lingering in the kitchen area.

Needing to get another beer, number 4 or 5 I think, I go, hesitantly into the kitchen. Fatty is sitting cross legged on the floor, crying, calling the dog by the wrong name, having a very sad, drunk conversation with it. She looks up at me, “Don’t worry, mean person, I’ll be gone soon”. Great, this was getting worse. She isn’t going.

Mike got up and went to fetch her. Her wine glass seemed to be getting more full, not less. She had wrangled one of the bottles from the living room. Drunks are good at filching bottles. Continuing to cry but at a harder cadence, she gets pulled off the floor and led out the door, slurring and spilling wine on the way out.

I find out today that she went across the street to the nice neighbor’s house and talked all sorts of shit.

Mike and I talking about it today:

Mike (2:15:46 PM): drunkwoman went across the street and bothered neighbor-girl.. she told her i said bad things about her and stuff.. real classy
Mike(2:16:00 PM): so i’ve been exchange drunkwoman stories with my neighbor this morning..
Felix(2:16:17 PM): youre shitting me
Mike (2:16:54 PM): weix: she kept talking about how all the neighbors (including you) talk trash about me
weix: and on and on
weix: and about K&B talking about me and she thinks i hate her
weix: and the blinds..those friggin blinds
weix: that she wanted to sell me when i first moved in. “hot” blinds. and about how all the talk is that i think she soo bad and tried to rip me off. i never bought her blinds. i can not believe that still bothers her.
weix: and about the clouds. they talk to her and tell her what to do.
weix: she brought her dog. called her dog krista. isn’t that her daughter?
weix: i warned her about bringing her dog over and that i didn’t want her dog there. she said, she’s fine, she’s fine. well. she snapped at me mdog and me mdog was alllll over that.
Mike (2:17:17 PM): weix: she also told me like 3 times, she gonna come over some nite when i not there and sit in me hot tub. while i not there so i wouldn’t see her pain.
weix: she was crying. wanted to know if i hated her.
weix: and that the rumor w/ the neighbors is that i like “ass” and my neighbors talk about me allllll the time.
Felix (2:18:24 PM): uh
Felix (2:18:28 PM): shes a crazy person
Mike (2:18:32 PM): no kiddin
Mike (2:18:42 PM): i had no idea she was fucking with Krissy as well
Mike (2:19:03 PM): Krissy is the blond across the street.. wouldn’t hurt a fly
Mike (2:19:28 PM): weix: she has told me this before that all the neighbors talk about me. think she said u the one that says i like ass
Mike (2:19:42 PM): i’m not sure where the ass thing comes from
Mike (2:20:03 PM): weix: and that she defends me and says to alll of this that she knows me that i not like that
Mike (2:20:23 PM): so she goes to person A and tells them how person B talks bad about them.. and that she defends person A
Felix (2:21:09 PM): tragic
Mike (2:21:32 PM): this is like stuff a 6yo would do
Felix (2:36:34 PM): psychopath
Mike (2:40:19 PM): i’m not looking forward to the next confrontation
Mike (2:40:27 PM): we’re going to have to keep the doors locked
Felix(2:40:30 PM): ooooooh I am
Felix (2:43:05 PM): how about a “we are secretly judging you” sign on her lawn. can I do that?
Mike (2:43:15 PM): check the deed restrictions

Let it be said that once a “new word” has made it to Newsweek, its dead. Dead dead dead. That’s not to say the word didn’t suck and wasn’t overexposed 2 days after some clever east village hipster coined it. As most things deriving from the shallow depths of pre-worn, pre-sweatstained trucker hat hollows, the shine wore off quickly. Let this be a warning, use of these dead words will relegate you to the groups of people (your parents are in this group) who use words to try to be hip and just make you wince.

Having said that, I will commemorate this moment with the final use of the word as I experienced my final (I shudder to say it, so just imagine the word) moment before leaving LA. Wife and I went for a waxing. Not terribly unusual as I am of Russian and Spanish descent leaving me with a lovely Alec Baldwin like full torso pubic vest.

Laser treatment has been very helpful but until I’ve carved out more discernible acreage of hair-free skin, its waxing every other month.

We made the mistake of taking on a new waxer. New to us, but she had a good review from someone I consider a high end lifestyle concierge. Gill went in the day before it was my turn. Turns out this lass has a “trick” to get you in and out in about 15 minutes. It involves a beach towel size tear strip and an equal size swath of hot wax. Needless to say Gill was teary eyed when she came back to the car. I wasn’t looking forward to my turn. Even the next day Gill had marks on her. I cowboyed up as much as possible and went in with my brave face.

I’d like to think of myself as a bit of a tough guy, not scared of some little sticky towel. It took about 15 seconds to reduce me to fight or flight. That bitch nearly took my freakin skin off.

A few weeks later, I’m a bit gun-shy and still wondering why I tipped her. I guess I was contributing to her going back to school to find another career.

In an effort to shed some shipping pounds and eject any tacky crap from our new “modern” lifestyles, the urine color couch had to go:

This is your newish Sofa / Couch. Shabby Chic StyleThat sofa listed above this one, its crap. That dude spilled food all over it. The one below this one, it smells like cat pee. Now, these, they’re great. They need a little, and I mean little, cleaning and they’re almost new. I paid a lot of money for them a few years ago but its time to move and with moves comes the selling of beloved stuff on CL. I lowered the price a whole $25 from last week. Hey, thats like lunch or something!

$375 OBO

These were purchased in a nice (not that Levitz crap) furniture store. This is some seriously comfortable lounging apparatus. The Sofa is a tad, a smidge, a (I don’t have a tape measure) touch over 7′ long and VERY deep. It’s a shabby chic style set but they are not down filled. Down gets all crazy full of dust mites and once you see a documentary on dust mites, you just might wear a gas mask for a few weeks. These are stuffed with wondrous polyfill. Nice and soft, and if your other half sends you to the sofa to sleep, you might actually thank them. You can thank me too, but silently, cause if you actually call me, it might be awkward. The matching chair is also very soft and, I am sorry to say never came with an ottoman. I was a bit beaten up by the $2400 I paid for the set.

Why am I selling them you ask? We’re moving out of state and hauling sofas cross country isn’t my bag.

Why only $400? They need a little freshening up and the chair has a mar on its rear bottom skirt. Against a wall, you’d never see it. It just needs one of those steamers I never got around to renting from the store.

Whats a reasonable BO with regards to my OBO? Well, dont offer me $200 or I’ll post your name on CL as a cheap-ass looking to break the back of a hard working (Wife and I are office dwellers so not THAT hard) family.

We can’t deliver but we will assist you in getting out of the apartment and into / onto the pickup truck you got your friend to lend you.

Yes, they are a set and they would both die from separation.

No burns, no smoking in the house, no weird odors, no pets, never used in the commission of a felony.

These are so much nicer than those other stank ass party-in-the-nude cracks filled with pot seeds, beer stained, we-don’t-know-who-bought-this-it-came-with-the-apartment couches.

You know you want it.

Its been nearly a month since I’ve posted to this blog. So much has been going on that its been kinda low on the priority list. I’ll fill ya in as much as possible.

A little over a month ago I told my boss I would be quitting, moving out of town and pretty much telling LA to bite me. As much as I enjoy hating LA, its not all bad. Going into the reasons to leave LA isn’t going to cover any new ground, suffice it to say, we were done.

Packing up our stuff wasn’t the worst thing ever. I think I remember getting bad food poisoning from Thai food a few years ago that was a little worse. We wedged our personal effects into a few crates that have yet to arrive. What we do with the crates when they arrive is still up in the air.

We left LA in a puff smoke. Having quit smoking, left both of our jobs, friends, apartment, packed everything into boxes and sold most of our valuables, we were abruptly adrift. There is a brief sense of catastrophe when you cast off all your chains at once. Our shit, our neighborhood, our apartment, all that “outside the boat” stuff has a very similar effect to drugs. Strong drugs that make you steal from your children’s college fund to get high drugs. We become addicted to ourselves in a particular state. Tearing away from that causes the lizard brain to go into panic mode. Having done this a few times I know what lizard is going to say. That said its still scary to hear in your own head.

There wasn’t exactly one moment when we felt free of our LA bonds but there were a few moments where we knew things were irreversibly different.

Not knowing what day it is and not caring that you don’t know is part of being free. Not being able to pay for what you do while you don’t know what day it is, is not being free.

We arrived in Palm Springs the evening we left LA. Having lived in LA for 10 years and not going to Palm Springs is inexcusable. The sheer power of golf in that town is palpable. It is truly a golf Mecca.

We played PGA West, Norman Course. When you imagine these places, its kind of a crap shoot as some look very interesting and end up being trashy and gross. This course was actually very nice. I would play there often. We were tempted to play the stadium course but didn’t think a beating that severe was needed after such a hard week of packing and work. I think I ended up with a 98 or a 96 on the Norman course. Breaking 100 is great, breaking 100 without gimmies, do-overs, mulligans or nudges is another story. With those “rules” in mind I think I still scored under 100 a few times. Don’t look at me like that.

That night we retired to the suite and checked into the administrative assignments. Everything we set up to change over or cancel, we had to call and fix at least once. ATT, Directv, long distance, no one could get it straight.

I called my voice mail, expecting some great message about Austin. Instead its the apartment manager telling me that we left “junk” in the main hallway of the complex including a box listed as “receiver” an oriental rug and a lamp. The stupid movers forgot the stuff there and it had stayed out all night. The receiver was my new $1500 Sony ES receiver along with $500 in speaker cables.

After a fast episode of panic calls to the mover and Eli, the whole deal was sorted and my stuff ended up on a truck out to Santa Fe with my step dad. What a cluster fuck.

We headed East for Scottsdale, making good time. It was nice to spend some time with my sister. As fate would have it, she was laid off the day after we got there. There was much gnashing of teeth. Its the best thing for them. They need to get the hell out of Phoenix. The whole fam wants her and Paul and David to move to Austin too. I think its a great idea. I would feel much better having family here. After a few days of golf, good food and family time we once again headed East, this time to Santa Fe.

We tried to play golf, we did but no luck. We played 9 holes of par 3 on a windy day with no cart. We were huge babies the whole time. Lame. Mom was very nice, let us make a huge mess of the guest house, gave us a nice starter check for the home and took us out to dinner a bunch. We didn’t go out at all in SF. Just didn’t have it in me to see people from the past. I have nothing to say to them other than “Wow, so you’re still a loser. I kinda figured”.

Getting into Austin as a bit of a trip. It was there that I felt that pang of, wow, we’re not in LA anymore, welcome home.

6 weeks of no smokes. Sunday was the first day without a patch. No casualties other than a high golf score on Monday.

Tomorrow: Find a job, enjoy the freedom.