The baby is a dog. Also, Lisa reveals a secret life

So yeah, today, I finally realized something important about baby Cooper: HE THINKS HE IS A DOG.

Cooper has a few quirks. Among them, inhaling food like a snuffluffagus, hitting me, and saying "DINGDINGDINGDING" over and over. But he also does a weird thing where, instead of welcoming a visitor, immediately upon his or her entrance, he frantically finds something. Like, I enter the house every morning and the baby freaks out looking for his toys. His ball. His spoon. Anything. It's like how he announces your presence or something, and he never really looks at you, but he does it when his parents come home and when I show up. Whatever. But I mentioned it to the mom yesterday, and she was like, "Ha, just like the dog."

JUST LIKE THE DOG.

She had no idea how right she was! And now, NOW, the baby has started welcoming visitors by bringing them toys from the dog's toy basket. And trying to drink out of the dog bowl. OH MY GOD THE BABY THINKS HE IS A DOG.

I don't know how this happened. Then again, I do know how. I am only with the baby for three days a week. His father works during the week, and his mother works three days. THEREFORE, his most constant companion is the dog. So should I really feel like a failure because the baby is choosing to mimic his most steadfast teacher instead of me? Actually yes. Yes, I should. Because I am part of the human race, the one that invented fire and wheels and blenders. And acting. But oh well. At least for the moment, the baby could stand to learn some things from the dog, mostly in the going to the bathroom on command and not wandering off towards oncoming traffic departments.

So yeah, I'm just babysitting. Waiting for the doctor's office to finish my Peace Corps paperwork. I finally finished all my tests, at least for the time being, but I worry that my application is going to be flagged since I accidentally marked that my entire family suffers from extreme mental illness, and I did it in pen. So I anticipate the Peace Corps wanting to run some psychological tests on me before they really let me in. Personally, I think that my success in surviving the numerous blood tests -- BY MYSELF, in the hot hot heat, with a resting heart rate of 49 therefore I was basically a zombie -- proves my mental capabilities. But we shall see.

I spent a recent weekend working at Lollapalooza, and this year, I was "promoted" (?) to PROGRAM DISTRIBUTION. This meant I got to work inside the festival and stand near the Perry's stage and dance to techno in the rain, all factors that made people scared to actually ask me anything. I also was given boxes of programs to distribute. Obviously. So I threw a lot of them into crowds like confetti, yelling the most ridiculous things I could think of like "THESE ARE LIKE DRUGS WITHOUT DRUGS" and "IF I DON'T GET RID OF ALL OF THESE LADY GAGA WILL NOT PERFORM." Most people indulged me, but probably only due to the fact that I was wearing sequins.

I've really been trying to embrace the arts lately, which has been fun. At a recent improv class, we all had to go around and tell each other our strengths. Apparently my strength is playing slightly demented characters and trusting my acting friends to hurl me around the stage with their strong arms. Go me!

I went to a lovely dance performance the other night, but as I was crossing the street, an Escalade tried to hit me. I had the walk sign. So I made eye contact with the driver, which cuts down your chance of death by like 90%, because it's about the mammalian connection, but this guy looked me in the eye AND STEPPED ON THE GAS. So for the first time in my life, I flipped off a driver. Later I felt guilty because he looked like he might have been of Indian or Middle Eastern descent -- and what if he thought I was trying to say something about the mosque at the 9/11 site? Because I am totally for the mosque. And maybe he wanted to hit me because other people are against the mosque and he was having a super shitty day. I don't know. I still enjoyed the dance performance. I went to more dance performances over the weekend, but they turned out to be more like children's recitals than soul-quaking movement pieces. Dance is going to be my hobby.

So this is getting long, but I am going to be frank about a reality of my current life: I am super into TV. I mean, look at all of these other things I do, the things written about above. I have a life, right? I do. But then again, so much of my life currently revolves around my obsession with TV. Really bad TV too. I watch Bachelor Pad. I am obsessed with it. Like I join facebook groups encouraging contestants to date in real life. I watch Jersey Shore. I just finished this absolutely awful show called Plain Jane, which basically tells girls that if they get makeovers, guys won't be able to refuse them, and it is so horrible but I always watch it. Sometimes I think that TV is the new film, which was the new literature. But I do like to associate myself with literary culture. Except times have changed for this young woman, and I am super into TV.

I would talk more about TV but I am no John Siegel. Maybe I will discuss all of my favorite shows in my next post though.


LIFE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!