Be on alert for a missing bad dog!

Today I got home to find that my precious, beloved, horrible pet dog was missing. She must have been dog-napped which is probably my payback because I, myself, dog-napped her to begin with.
The perpetrator was very sneaky, because all of my doors were locked before I left and were still locked when I got back! He or she must have come in through a window or something. I cannot believe this. Here is a picture incase you see her...

She answers to the name of Tramp... She will respond to "Shark Week" as well.
I need to find out who did this to me...
Even worse-- as some sort of cruel and disgusting form of torment-- that sick, porch-hopping crook who carried this out placed another dog in my house to taunt me!
This dog looks EXACTLY the same as Tramp (AKA Shark Week), however it is not her. This dog is a good dog. Gentle, calm, obedient. She's not even a shark minute.



Who is this good dog and what have they done with my bad dog?

Update: The fly

I got 'im!

Help me find a stage name!

I feel like a real blogger for the first time in my life...I finally posted my first entry on my originally intended blog (not this one), The Knockabout.

Tonight's events leading up to my first real blog post:

1. The virtual roommate moves my computer into my room against my will.
2. Cooked a hardboiled egg for my amazing Greekly inspired Israeli Salad.. maybe I'll post a recipe, or maybe I'll just start a 80% vegetarian recipe blog, since I'm totally a blogger now (permission to e-punch me next time I say the word "blog" in this blog... starting now!)
2. An unsuccessful inning of baseball (well, a frustrated kitchen inhabitant's version), I put the dishtowel down and gave the stupid fly a break. I'll get 'im later.
3. Thrilled with my salad, wondering to whom can I rave about it, I head to my bedroom instead of my computer desk in the living room.

So then I did it. I was sitting on my bed, with my laptop on my lap (Oh, thats where they got the name!) typing a blog. I felt like I should have a nom de plum, like, sOcAliBlOgGRRLL or something. You know, like Hilary Duff in The Perfect Man.

Does anyone have any suggestions for a name???


Noteworthy events post becoming a real blogger

1. Used the word "e-punch" in a blog. I would rate that 68% unacceptable. It's not like I'm a pro yet.

This is Alyson L signing off.

List of Things My Dog, Tramp, Has Ruined

MY:

Bathroom drawer, wall, and door

Blow dryer

Loofah

Miss Dior Cherie perfume

Pill bottle of Xanax

Free Spirit

Pumpkin scented candle in the shape of a pumpkin

Love of dogs

Multiple towels and sheets

Couch cushion

To be continued... (unfortunately)

Don't Let This Be True!

This is just like when you finally talk to that person you like, or the one you admire, and for once, you were totally cool-not nervous, witty (but not too much to the point that it feels annoyingly like a ping pong match of offensive rhetoric), and charming. Afterwards you hurry to the nearest mirror forcing yourself not to smile until you know that nobody is around that can laugh to themselves at you (or wonder if you are homeless or on PCP [sorry I'm from Venice, and that exactly what people wonder when they see somebody smiling to themselves {its really a vicious life out there.. We should be able to do whatever we want whenever we want.. Especially smile for freedom's sake!}])--and its not like you're in your car doing it, or you would have shelter from this judgment by continuing to talk to yourself forcing the onlooker to assume you are on your blue tooth. So then you look in the mirror..... NO. This can't be true. My eyeliner is dripping, my cheeks are red and my pores are HUGE! I look like a sweaty beast. The thought of having looked like that in front of your feared and admired one is too much pain to bear, so you wipe off your eyeliner, blot away the shine, and stare at yourself in the mirror ‘til you have convinced yourself that the new fixed up version of you is exactly how the ever-so-important person perceived you.
That moment the horrible realization ALMOST has victory against your denial is the moment I am in right now.
I just bought a pair of tie-dye socks. Finally after admiring, wishing and coveting from afar. I immediately put them on (they are red white and blue and I bought a second pair because those ones had purple and yellow in them too) and as I walked with my head high back toward my car from a very successful night of hippie dancing at the greek theater, my ankles started to itch. NO. The dreaded truth. My new socks aren't itchy, it must be my imagination. Walk it off. Still itchy. I sooth my uneasy mind with the brilliant reminder that I had taken 4 vicodins (for my work related injury. Don't judge me the doctor gave to me and told me it was ok!) and vicodin makes you itchy!

This can't be true. Please don't let my new, long awaited, esteemed, glorified tie dyed socks be itchy.

I once heard "denial is not a river in Egypt." --Author unknown (well, unknown to me at least and I am too frazzled to go look it up on Wikipedia right now).

OK UPDATE:

September 23, 2009

I realize this entry makes no sense. Please understand I wrote this AS I was wearing the socks. I was heavily intoxicated.

From Certified Juror to New Kid on the Blog

....::::::Jury Duty::::::....

Eyes heavy as sandbags, 7 am as I suited up for that daily grind at the ol' nine-to-five at Malibu Courthouse. Its actually Monday, my first day. Had it been my second or third day, I would have known that it is "Juror Appreciation Week"

Needless to say, I was very nervous for my first day on the job, especially because I arrived 15 minutes late with a fresh starbucks drink in my hand. I was afraid they would either judge me or reject me. I tried to hide it in my purse right side up so it wouldn’t spill on my Archie comics, new spiral notebook from Michaels with 3 ready printed lists (stuff to watch, read, and listen to), or, GOD FORBID, my precious Blackberry, Joseph. The girl at the desk knew my dirty secret, I am sure of it. Who knows, that could be the reason the end of this story is so bittersweet.

When I got to check-in, I was informed of my termination. I mean, I was nervous and all, but never did I imagine getting fired before I even started! She asked me if I needed proof of my service this morning for my employer, a vicious stab at me knowing very well that I quit my other job for this, what I thought was a swinging door of opportunity, my last fighting chance at freedom and justice.

Christina (the girl at the desk) sent me on my way with a juror word search, a Malibu Courthouse pencil, and my two new proudest possessions: a juror bookmark and a sticker that says "I served." Although short-lived, I will always cherish my career as a certified juror.

Alright Fine

I constantly want to blog but I know I have to introduce myself first.
Dammit here it is.

My name is Alyson L. I am still not sure if I will share this blog with others or make it personal. I'm leaning towards personal, so, sorry.

Here is a list of stuff I like so you can get to know me.

• certain words (for example: frontier, portal, weird) and phrases (like "that's the ticket," "what's the big idea?" and [a very over-used one for me...] "on the double")
• nostalgia
• colors (red, white, grey and royal blue are my favorites--in that order)
• literality
• making up words
• dreadlocks
• dogs, polar bears and puffer fish
• questions- asking and recieving them
• crafting and sewing
• thinking and challenging
• sandwiches

As I was writing that, I was just wondering what the point of a blog is. If you know of one, please let me know.