Who wants a hound to pet on car trips? Leroy’s available!
Monroe Carell Jr. Children’s Hospital at Vanderbilt hot air balloon at the Arrington Vineyard Harvest Party
Matt’s latest hobby is fostering dogs. We’re currently taking care of Leroy, a bluetick coonhound from the same rescue that saved Duke. Which tumblr-ite wants to adopt this gorgeous hound?
All the facts:
Click here for more info and to fill out an adoption application.
Getting educated with beer school at Budweiser.
Yours is the Danny DeVito of vetoes. — Matt
Silas hates bath. HAAAATES bath. He tolerates showers better (my theory is that he’s used to rain, but not being immersed in water).
But my dog has a skin infection. Much like his mother, Silas has thin skin. That makes him more susceptible to skin infections, says the vet. Last time Silas had a skin infection, he was on antibiotics. But he’s a selective genius and learned how to eat the meat flavored pill pocket without actually eating the pill.
So this time around, Silas was prescribed a medicated shampoo. That has to sit for 5-10 minutes before being rinsed. Silas typically tries to jump out of the tub at minute two, and then puts on a martyred expression and whimpers and shakes for the rest of bath time.
Time for a new strategy. I decided to throw Silas in the shower with me and wash both our hair at the same time. And he was so well behaved, like a fake dog in a commercial. Like Eddie from Frasier. He actually sat down instead of hanging his head over the edge of the tub, gasping for air. I’m proud of him in a way that owners of mellow dogs could never understand.
This is what happens when you combine years of reading mommy blogs, a deep love of dogs, and a generous glass of wine.
I would hate myself for paying actual money for this (35 dollars AMERICAN, as Matt would put it), but I so want to up my “dog clothing” amount spent to $48. Silas would be the hit of our summer barbecue. Not that we’ve ever hosted a summer barbecue, but we would start if the dog had a Ralph Lauren polo to wear to it.
ETA: Holy shit, you can embroider your dog’s name on the back.
Silas and I are celebrating our second adoption anniversary together.
Our second year has been easier and smoother than our first. He’s really mellowed. I mean, he still jumps around like he’s on speed when I come home, but now he leaps in circles instead of scraping my thighs with his claws. Duke’s been a calming influence on him.
In our two years together, Silas has cost me $3,960— an average of $5.42/day. Almost half of that is dog sitting and boarding. Plus his poodle-y fur needs grooming. (Yeah, I could attempt to do it myself, but he gets so… excited… by lots of attention that I worry I’d castrate him.) And then there are the vet visits and shots and heart worm and flea/tick meds. He likes to eat, too. And I should confess that my Mint account shows that I’ve spent $13 on “pet clothing,” as they categorize it. (It was a Halloween costume! Is that better or worse?)
For people without pets, four grand is an absurd amount of money. But he’s been worth every penny. Every single day he makes me happy. Who wouldn’t pay $5 for that?
Back in Atlanta with my husband.
The wedding’s close enough to get the weather forecast.
That was surprisingly easy.
So far I’ve played with my phone for two hours, gotten a pep talk from Georgia’s only Latino judge (according to him), and gone to Chick-fil-a. I hope that I get to go through the juror selection process because I love answering questions about myself, but I really don’t want to end up on a jury. I don’t like arguing with strangers unless they’re the Comcast customer service rep.
The Atlantic - A Day in the Life of a Digital Editor, 2013
Hypothetically, let’s say you devote an entire month to one single story, betting the house on it. In the very best circumstance, a viral hit heard round the world with a big traditional media push, you’d do maybe 800,000 uniques. And then you’d have to do the same thing the next month.
The New York Times Magazine - Nora Ephron’s Final Act
“Can you tell me your name?” one of them asked.
“Nora Ephron,” she said, nodding.
“Can you tell me where you are?”
“New York Hospital.”
“Who is the president of the United States?”
At this point, my mother looked annoyed, gave a roll of the eyes and refused to answer the question, which later on was the source of some debate between Max and me about whether her sarcasm and humor remained even as her memory and focus faded or whether she was simply irritated at being treated like an infant.
The New York Times - High Debt and Falling Demand Trap New Vets
If you are doing what you have always wanted, and you find it fulfilling, the numbers don’t seem relevant. At least initially.
The New Yorker - Did a Murderer in Waiting Go Undetected Because She Was a Woman?
Amy Bishop shot her own brother, after all. She punched a woman at a pancake restaurant. She stood accused of mailing a bomb to one of her supervisors at Harvard. Red flags don’t get much brighter than that. Yet, nobody stepped in. Why not?
New York Magazine - Back on the Trail
Even in the midst of the adultery scandal, he was still leaning on Jenny for political guidance, calling her right before the press conference to consult on the most politically expedient thing to say. (Her advice: “Be honest and get it over with. Whatever you do, don’t talk about your heart.”
The Stranger - The Lying Disease
The lies slowly escalate, pile up, and create an improbable whole. Then one day, you realize you’re friends with a 15-year-old chronic migraine sufferer online who also happens to be a fourth-year medical school student who plays drums in a band at night—despite those crippling migraines—to pay his med school tuition because his deaf mother and alcoholic stepfather have no interest in his baby-genius education. Oh, and since he’s not yet old enough to drive, he skateboards three miles a day to get to class.
And on that day, you feel like a total schmuck.
One month to go.
CNN - Why I’m quitting Facebook
The efforts of a few thousand employees at Facebook’s Menlo Park campus pale in comparison to those of the hundreds of millions of users meticulously tweaking their pages. Corporations used to have to do research to assemble our consumer profiles; now we do it for them.
The Hairpin - Tina Fey at the Paley Center
Tina Fey is sitting on top of Maslow’s hierarchy with her legs crossed.