I got an e-mail from my sister-in-law (the most devout Auburn fan ever) this morning asking me to go to this site:
and vote for the AU marching band’s version of the Indiana Jones theme song. This was no problem for me, because I enjoy marching bands and I’m all about Auburn, as long as they’re not competing with Alabama. They are competing with Clemson, LSU, Georgia, Florida, Texas, and USC. The winning band gets a $25,000 donation from Paramount Pictures and LucasFilm Ltd. If you can bear that theme song seven times, it’s fun to hear the different arrangements (and see the ways some of the bands paid homage to the Indiana Jones movies). Texas added their own little twist at the end that cracked me up, and the LSU dance team’s outfits are clever.
When Tim is gone and I have the care of EZ, life becomes a weird juggling act. Last time, I spent the nights in his apartment with EZ, and set up my laptop over there so no matter which house I was in, I could access my LiveJournal because that’s just how important you all are to me. This arrangement left me feeling guilty, because wherever I was, it meant somewhere, dogs were spending long hours alone.
I realize that most of you leave your animals alone for eight to ten hours a day, and they’re fine. I know mine are fine, too. In my head. But The Compound dogs are used to two people who work on the premises. They can say, “Hey, it’s time for me to take a bio break,” or “Sweet mother of God, the mail carrier is back to kill us all,” and feel reasonably sure they’ll get a reaction. They have their routines, and we all like it that way.
EZ doesn’t play well with others, so I can’t just have all three dogs running crazy in the same place. Since I want to sleep in my own bed, and I have some plans for Tim’s apartment (I’m renting it out to these nice chemists, Tim–at least, they said something about a “lab”), Tom brought EZ’s crate over here. I’ve set up all three dog crates in the dining room (in my line of vision) for the duration of Tim’s stay at Rex Camp. In theory, I can crate EZ and let the girls frolic, then switch out and let EZ wander the house while the girls are crated.
What actually happens:
Guinness paces through the house wailing for no apparent reason.
Margot claims EZ’s crate as her own and never wants to leave it.
EZ is at Tim’s, alone, after being fed.
I feel guilty again.
I decided to take the girls out for a run around the grounds then crate them, then bring EZ back to my house. I wanted to get back inside quickly, because I was still in my nightgown. But when the girls and I went out, there were about a dozen mourning doves just outside the gate. I was so happy to see them–the first time I have since Ike blew through–that I decided to refill the empty birdbath to lure them back home. Then I noticed the flowers in one of the beds looked a little wilty, so I started watering. Which is when the mail carrier came. Other than the fact that I looked like a madwoman wandering the grounds in my nightgown, this was an absolute joy for me, because the second my dogs began barking at her, I sprayed them with the hose. Sweet justice!
Unfortunately, things went downhill after that. WHY, when I’m trying to roll up the hose, does it always catch on something, slowing down the process long enough to allow my neighbor Jason to walk by and see me IN MY NIGHTGOWN? Then three huge utility trucks came down the street and parked IN FRONT OF MY HOUSE, and I had no choice but to trudge past them IN MY NIGHTGOWN to get inside.
This could be why Tim doesn’t wear a nightgown.
Disgruntled prison bitches:
Oh, save your pity. They’re all three snoozing and happy, full of dog biscuits. I’m going to shower and dress now.
hahaha – the whole nightgown fiasco cracks me up.
i just know that one of these days when i’m going to something right quick after my shower but before clothes go on, that the neighbor kids are going to be peeping over their fence.
Be sure to give them a good show!
How on earth are you able to concentrate on your work with all that harmonica-playing going on, I wonder….
I just sing this to them:
I can’t wait to see your rendition of this. Some night by the pool at Saints and Sinners time sounds perfect!
Roaming the grounds in your night dress… how Miss Havisham of you.
Yeah, like you’ve never been caught! 😉
not a night DRESS, my purple dancing asian cow pjs — it’s matching set … and very stylish!
Exactly.
(Hey, why are all the comments on that post missing?)
I only deleted my OZ one …
what post, my post?
And notice in that post I mention that they are indeed stylish… right now I am wearing the playing puppies pj’s.
Yes, this post. Check your comments. There were once several comments there, comments to which you responded. Your responses are still there, but all the comments (except for mine) are gone. I just wondered why they all disappeared.
Well get to Drewinm Nancy. I see them all … apparently many people laugh at my public shaming.
I can’t see comments either… except for the comment I left. LiveJournal might be acting up again, like that time it switched my user photo.
Bizarre, huh? I swear, Marika’s LJ is cursed.
you’re just discovering that?
you mocked me most of all
Okay, Tim’s not around so I can ask this now. He’s been inside one of those crates before, hasn’t he? And you’ve got the pictures to prove it, don’t you? 🙂
Yep.
Hmmm, I seem to remember a story about Tim being outside in his shorts one morning.
Good grief I have never heard so many bad renditions of the Indiana Jones March in my life.
Auburn got my vote by default — for not using marimbas and xylophones, for not sneaking Hold That Tiger or Jaws into the melody or jerking around spastically like they were on a sugar high. Tommy Trojan was kind of cute though.
Jaws, really? I must have missed that. But you have to admit it’s pretty clever to try to get a subliminal edge up with Steven Spielberg, right?
Even more subtle: The Texas band finishes with a bit of their fight song “The Eyes of Texas,” a song that was played by a marching band in the movie Sugarland Express, directed by…Steven Spielberg.
I love the sound of a marching band–it evokes so many good memories.
I love them too — and actually have a decent collection of brass, band and wind ensemble recordings. And giving Texan credit where credit is due, the Dallas Wind Symphony is particularly outstanding.
Don’t know about the ladies in red though.
P.S. If Tim was outside in his shorts, they were shorts, not underwear. He doesn’t wear boxers.
Or am I giving too much information?