Flashy Pants, Flashy Pooch

They make diapers for dogs. I know this because, this past weekend, I bought them. It was probably one of the most embarrassing purchases I've made in the past year or so. Even more embarrassing than when I bought "Fun Betty" which is a cleverly packaged box of hair dye for your "down there hair". It wasn't that much fun - in case you're wondering. I bought hot pink and the entire process took an hour. The end result? My Betty looked a little bloody. Not as sexy as I had imagined, but I digress.

Dog diapers. Being the over protective mom of my fur kid that I am, I have a crazy mad fear of getting her fixed. I'm a nurse. I know the risks of major abdominal surgery on people. Let them take the knife to my poor, unsuspecting baby??? Never. So, once every 6 months, she gets a visit from her aunt flow.

I was out in Long Island, being a house guest of The Boy's all weekend and I did not want to have tiny drops of blood on his carpet, so I did what any other normal dog owner would do in my situation. I bought a pair of "Flashy Pants" ("for the bitch in season" read the insightful description on the box - and I ask: aren't we all?). Let's not forget the accompanying box of sanitary pads that fit inside the "washable undergarment". What the hell is it under?? The dog has fur! If anything, it's a over-garment.

This purchase was more embarrassing than the time I had to buy my own box of tampons for the first time. I was actually standing on line - in a PET store - with a box that clearly said "sanitary pads" on the front and sides. I felt like one of those sick people who paint their dog's toenails and parade them around in baby buggies.

The poor dog was so embarrassed in her Flashy Pants. She walked around with her butt to the floor the whole time. There's a ruffle on the end. Her tail peeks through. It was just a barrel of ridiculous. Not to mention the fact that she was accidentally let out in the backyard with her Flashy Pants still on. She had her first accident.

My dog wet her pants!!!

She could barely bring herself to play with the other dogs, so embarrassed was she.

Seriously, it must be love. True, unconditional, pet love. Because there I was, on the floor, the dog on her back, changing her diaper, assuring her that the accident was not her fault. She looked so confused. So fearful that her mommy had probably lost her mind.

I do have to say, though, those Flashy Pants do work. The carpet was spared. For the mere price of $15. And my dog's dignity.

Ryan Reynolds - Why Do You Make Me Second Guess My Life??

I just got finished watching the chick flick Definitely Maybe.  The one with Ryan Reynolds and some other not-so-famous cast members.  I came away with 2 thoughts.  Number 1 - I want to dye my hair red a la Isla Fisher.  Number 2 - I'm terrified of falling in love, getting married and having a kid only to find myself divorced, my ex husband running off to Brooklyn (or in The Boy's case Australia) to be with "the one he was meant to be with all along".  In case you haven't seen the movie - sorry to spoil the ending for you.  But come on.  It was obvious that was going to happen. 

I'm not bitter.  I'm not even one of those annoying people who subscribe to the cult of "marriage is just an institution and most end up in divorce".  It's just that ever since I was 5 I've wanted to be a princess.  The One.  The beautiful maiden with the long flowing hair.  The one the men write songs about.  For me, married = settling down.  Gone are the castles and the hair in the wind.  The pretty pink dress and the songs of love and unattainable.  Real life happens.  

Up until the age of 25 the nicest thing a guy ever said to me was "I always thought you were unattainable".  The relationship got stale pretty fast.  I realized immediately that once I had become "obtained" I was second hand news.  Even after that guy and I parted ways,  and though I do not fondly recall the guy, I fondly recall the memory of being "unattainable".  

At a much wiser 26, I do realize that "unattainable" means no one's caught me yet.  And that is not the desired position most women want to be in past the age of 30.  I know to be obtained means he knows my quirks, my smell, the fact that I hate my curly hair.  To be obtained means Saturday night is pretty much a sure bet.  No more awkward first dates.  I'm obtained.  

Obtained also means comfortable and I love and loathe comfortable.  Unless it means shoes, sheets or sweats, the word has a stigma.  I've seen comfortable unravel into cheating, lying and internet sex.  I've seen comfortable morph into "I hate you - get out".  

Strangely though, so far, all The Boy has taught me of comfortable has been good.  Comfortable means I can be myself.  Crazy and all.  I can walk around in just underwear.  I don't mind if he sees me minus mascara.  Comfortable has been a walk in the park.  A nice walk.  The kind where it's spring and the carousel is running and there are puppies and street theatre.  Maybe even some cotton candy.  That kind of walk in the park.

I found 3 grey hairs today.  Maybe I'm just scared of old.

I hate fear.  I hate that part where you realize there really isn't the whole entire world ahead of you.  Not like when you were 18.  I hate the fact that I may get old, stretch marks or wrinkles.  I hate the word divorce.  But I hate the idea of loveless/sexless marriage even more.  Sometimes I want to suspend myself in time until I can figure it all out.  I like to know what's going to happen.  I've been known to read the end to most books, just because I hate the suspense.  

I know life can't be like that.  I know that if life was like that, I'd be bored anyway.  

Maybe I'm just a smidge of a control freak?  But in reality, I wouldn't change a thing.  Except my hair color.

I really, really want to dye my hair red.

Stupid Ryan Reynolds movie.