Real Housedogs of Miami

   My parents have decamped to the Northeast to "see the leaves" (not sure how this is a legitimate excuse to travel, but aight) and I've been left in supervision of the suburban house and the dogs. Their "dog," which I use in the loosest of terms, is a rescue creature from the streets who is the color of cinnamon with all the spice. She's a cross between a German shepherd, a long-haired dachshund, and a corgi. She closely resembles a sausage, so we dubbed her Vienna the Sausage. She also bears an uncanny likeness to the 80s muppet, Alf. What she lacks in height she makes up for in intelligence and spirit. She torpedoes herself onto surfaces of all heights and can somehow open doors. Every so often she emits a songlike bellow for no apparent reason. Whenever approached, she flops over onto her back with her stump legs straight up in the air, begging for tummy rubs. But I think it is all a ruse. My theory is that she is like Stewie from Family Guy and is actually an evil alien plotting world takeover from the confines of a canine body. While my dad was laying out cash for his trip, she sauntered over and gingerly grabbed something in her mouth and skulked off - it was a $100 bill. I posited that she is probably running a Russian gambling ring out of our guesthouse, but this hypothesis has not been proven. Yet.

                                                        Vienna the Sausage [Alien]


   I quite enjoy the suburban life. Upon coming home from dinner at Bonding last night, (wherein several diners got up in the middle of their dinners and began partnered salsa dancing, #miami), I tucked Madeleine into her crate, Vienna on the couch, and myself into my sister's bed since my room has been converted into a library (thanks Mom and Dad, love ya), awoke at 10 AM, let the dogs out for a romp in the yard, fed them, fetched the paper and the mail, Skyped with my dear friend from high school, EF, who lives in South Africa, watched Real Housewives of Miami (Joanna Krupa has two cavaliers, #spanielfame), grabbed a kale salad at Whole Foods, got gas, took the dogs for a mile stroll in the heavily wooded neighborhood, had a nap, a shower, and am now nursing a Diet Coke (my drug of choice) as I write. The Pinecrest life ain't bad. The only predators are the ubiquitous mosquitoes and the most ferocity you encounter lies in fighting for parking spots in front of the Cheese Course.

 A Haiku to Diet Coke
   Astringent but mild
   Caffeinate my heart through straws
    And great marketing

 A Treatise On Diet Coke
   People often recoil in horror when they find out that this dietitian drinks Diet Coke. Do lawyers break laws? Do you know any doctors who are overweight? Do dentists floss every night? Probably, they're nerdy. SIMMER DOWN, FOLKS. Diet coke is far more benign than a lot of things you are probably ingesting.  Your yogurt is probably flavored with crushed beetle skeletons. Seriously. Back off my bev[erage]. I'm not guzzling it like Cristal on bitches. I have, perhaps, one a day, preferably from a fountain (true fans know that this is equivalent to milk fresh from the teat) and otherwise stick to copious amounts of water, with some organic lowfat milk, soymilk, tea, fresh-squeezed orange juice from the Ritz, and the occasional soy latte with REAL SUGAR making guest appearances. Oh, maybe some Riesling or gin as well. On the Sabbath. Go ahead and squeal "Aspartame!!!" at me. What's aspartame made of? Do you know? Nope. You don't. Because you weren't subjected to countless biochemistry classes of death. It's aspartic acid and phenylalanine. One of those is an amino acid, a building block of protein. You're MUCH more likely to suffer adverse health effects from sugared fruit juice, alcohol (BEER IS NASTY), or coffee than you are from an occasional Diet Coke. And also how else are you going to find out the last name of your one true love? Coffee mugs don't have flexible can tops!

Happily ever after,

Mon and Mads (and Vienna the sausage dog)