I’ve only been up for two hours today and already I have so much to tell you! I have several stories, two involving dog pee, and pictures to go with almost everything. Yay! Ok … here goes. Picture one:

Chulo has some foul breath and rank plaque on his little teeth so we’re having them cleaned. Seems simple enough, right? No. Actually, it’s an involved, time consuming, expensive series of events. Since we made the decision to get Chulo’s teeth cleaned he has has been to the vet three times, Erica and I have spent over $500 and so far his teeth and breath are in the exact same condition. Well, not exact, his breath now has the added aroma of the fish oil supplement they’ve added to his diet to avoid trouble during this year’s hot spot/butt chewing season. What does that have to do with cleaning his teeth? I don’t know, but there it is. Now, in order to get one’s dog’s teeth cleaned, you have to have him anesthetized. Before you can do that, you have to make sure he is healthy enough to undergo the procedure.

Visit one: Checkup, including the butt thermometer, followed by blood work which caused gnarly hematoma on his little doggy neck. Visit two: Pick up allergy oil, add a biopsy to the tooth cleaning procedure for a little lump behind his right ear. Visit three: re-schedule his surgery/dental visit so that I can be home with him for his recovery. Then we got a call letting us know that his blood work was fine, with one relatively minor exception.

That’s when we scheduled visit four AKA “Drop off Urine Sample.” First pee of the morning, please.

Today after my first pee, I grabbed a small plastic bowl and carried Chulo into the backyard. It rained last night and the yard was wet so, of course, the little prince was not interested in going potty. This meant that in addition to trailing him with my plastic bowl at the ready, I was forced to call attention to myself with my high-pitched, faux-excited doggy voice. “Go potty! Come on Chulo! Let’s potty! Pahhh-tee! Come on! You can do it! Pahhh-tee!” Finally he squatted and I collected a sample. As I was putting the lid on I realized, “I love this little bowl.”

So I transferred the pee into a Ziploc, double bagged it and rinsed out the bowl with super hot water. Good as new. (Erica, who will be reading this, will immediately want to know which bowl I used. And I will never tell.) I dropped the Ziploc into my purse and Chulo and I headed out to drop it off. On our way we ran into Nick.

Nick is a little bichon who hangs out at a salon down the street.  He is in love with Chulo and whenever he sees us walk by, he cries so that his mom will bring him out to visit. When I realized that we were going to chat for a while, I took Chulo off the leash and we let the two dogs run around on the sidewalk together for a little bit. Instantly Chulo started the Pee-Off.  As soon as he was done, Nick got into position and started to pee. Then, I swear to you, mid-stream Nick lifted both of his hind legs above his and walked away on his front paws. Being practically mid-stream myself, I didn’t think to take a picture. He kept doing it over and over and I probably couldn’t have gotten a decent shot even if I had thought of it. But I did find a You Tube video of another dog doing the same thing. I wonder if we could train Chulo to do it.

OH! I intended to write these events in chronological order and I forgot one, hugely important, exciting thing. After collecting the pee and before seeing Nick, I checked the mail.

Shut. Up.

“… we encourage you to take the next step toward membership.” How you like me now? I am so on my way. Mission to Mensa, Step Three? Check.

After dropping off the pee, Chulo and I continued our walk I discovered yet another dead animal on the sidewalks of my neighborhood right next to a truck that is to be featured in the next, “Why I Love Brooklyn.”

And then. The best of all was a two minute phone call to 826NYC in which I purchased tickets to this:

Who’s that playing war? Oh … yeah.

Sarah motherfucking Vowell.

That’s right.  I told you I was going to meet her, I took steps to meet her, I have stayed ever vigilant and true to my goal of meeting her, and now I am going to kick her ass in war. Plus … playing blackjack with Ira Glass? He’s the big red bow on the best gift ever!

This is the Raw Score Table.  The left column is the Raw Score, the center is your Estimated IQ Score, and the third is the all important Estimated Percentile.  Mensans are in the top two percent.

Alright. I’m not top two percent, but I am top ten. And it was the home test, not an actual standardized official test. So, the mission continues.  I think top ten percent is pretty fucking good.  And pretty fucking encouraging.  People, I am not giving up.  All I have to do is score in the top 2% one time.  Just once and I’m in.  I got a 67, in order to gain membership to Mensa I need a 73.  Six measly points. I can do that.  I know it.

Wish me luck.

by Shalom Auslander

This is Just to Say

I’m sorry you are overweight

and drinking

and feeling like everything in your life

is doomed to failure.

But this is probably why Mom said

I was her favorite.

Happy Easter!

Location: 8th Avenue between 14th & 15th Streets

I’m doing it.  I’m am officially attempting to qualify for Mensa.

Who’s there?

Location: 6th Street between 6th & 7th Avenues

I have a new friend and she’s in Mensa! She told me about it a month or so ago when we were at a karaoke night in the neighborhood. We were about two shots of Jameson’s and three beers into the evening when it came up.  

You know.  I’m in Mensa.

I was instantly intimidated and began replaying the night in my head to make sure I hadn’t said anything stupid. I had always watched myself because I knew she was a reader. The first real conversation we ever had was about Charles Bukowski and it ended with her loaning me her book. If you know me, and most of you do, I am a complete dictator nazi stalinist commie pinko bastard when it comes to my books. I very rarely loan my books. Only the most scrutinized and trusted of my friends borrow my books. When they return the books (and they’d better) the books are checked for damage. If there are any damages other than the normal expected wear and tear, there will be no more loaning of books.  Book borrowing is a serious business.

Holding V’s book and completely excited about my new friend, I thought, “She loves me.”  

We were co-workers at the now defunct Cattyshack, and we bonded. We started hanging out on a regular basis, even after Cattyshack bit it … which led to her eventual drunken confession of being in Mensa.  As I said, I was initially intimidated, but I worked it out.  However, I had become obsessed with Mensa.  What exactly was Mensa?  How did one get into Mensa?  What did it really mean to be in Mensa? 

Could I get into Mensa?

I started researching and I found a practice test. Half an hour and thirty questions later, I had my results.

You have a good chance of qualifying for Mensa.

I instantly Facebooked two of my smartest friends.  

I don’t know about E and our friend C, but I’ve decided to give it a shot.  

I’ll keep you posted.