Kimchee and other ramblings

My roommate from my fifth year of college is spending the night with me tonight. She's already passed out asleep from a long day of travel.

P-J is half Korean. I loved living in the dorms with her because she would go home every weekend and come back with a big ole jar of Kimchee. Sometimes it would be turnip, sometimes cabbage, sometimes cucumber. Whatever her mom had fixed. Her mom even had her own fridge for it because P-J's dad thought it smelled like shit and didn't want it in the house. Regardless, it is the very height of tastiness and I would eat most of the jar in a few days. Now I would shit it all out the next day in a painful way. Seriously, though, that stuff makes you incredibly regular.

Anyway so P-J brought me some red pepper from her mom so she taught me how to make Kimchee tonight. We went and bought all the ingredients for under $7 and now I have a tasty container full of Kimchee to make my tummy happy. I already tried it but it really needs to sit out for a few days and let the pepper and garlic fully amalgamate the flavors. Later this week I might go to the asian market to get some more red pepper because I really want some turnip kimchee now.

It's been a nice day with P-J. I had my breakfast with her at Wheatsville Co-op and then we went to the library, REI, Whole Earth Provision, and Mozart's. We then met her other old roommate at Curra's for dinner. It was nice hanging out with the old college buddies.

Oh yeah, and P-J is gay. I kinda suspected she was when we were in college but we were both closeted in those days b/c of our affiliation with a christian organization. She finally came out after going to UNC for her PhD and now has a girlfriend of almost four years. Her girlfriend, incidently, isn't quite a girl...she's nineteen years older than P-J. I guess I'm not the only one with an affinity towards older women? Whatever.

Now, Maximoose and I are making some rice to go with the Kimchee and I'm watching a show on Rajastan. The Indian food looks divine. I would so love to go there. Of course, the curry can't possibly be as good as Girrrl's.

In other news, I really don't think I could do Africa in the Peace Corps. I keep wanting to weep every time I read about FGM in my book. It just hurts so much to think about. I don't think I could live in the vicinity of where it would be going on all the time. I just couldn't.

Anyway, I'm going to read and then go crawl in my sleeping bag. P-J has the bed tonight. She's never been a friend I would share a bed with.

FGM and other ramblings

I really enjoy my book Nine Hills from Nambonkaha about living in Africa and working for the Peace Corps. I thought, "Hey, I could do that," until the author started talking about FGM. The culture she lived in had a particularly barbaric form of FGM...not to say that other forms are less barbaric...but the culture she lived in would wait until right before the girls got married to slice their clits off with razors. Before the girls had their clits sliced off, they would have to confess how many and which boys they had slept with.

So, in all probability, they had experienced some form of sexual pleasure prior to having their clitorises cut off.

Also, not having your clitoris cut off prior to getting married basically pegs you as cursed. One woman had a stillborn child and the villagers blamed it on the fact she didn't submit to FGM.

When I read that, I just cringed. I just don't know how well I could function in a village where such a barbaric practice is the cultural norm. It's so grizzly.

In other news, I am enjoying watching Fall of Eagles, the BBC mini-series my dad gave me. It's pretty cheesy at parts but overall is pretty entertaining. Wilhelm II is such a queen. But I'm more looking forward to going to bed so I can read more about Africa.

Funny Thought of Day

Floozy:  

I dont understand how anybody would want to cheat with ______.

Floozy:  

I get cheating on her, but with her?

Me:

i don't understand either

Me:

what brought on that thought?

Floozy 

just walked past her

Floozy:

she said hi

Floozy:

her torso is the size of a small car

Ritual Fast

Perhaps it is because I'm a Hillary supporter.  Perhaps it is because I'm dealing with my own issues and the direction of my life.

I don't know, but one thing is for certain.  I am going to have to take a long fast from politics and current events, I think.

It used to be that my favorite thing to do was read all my blogs and the news.  I looked forward to coming home after my Tuesday shift to watch Bill Moyers and NOW.   Lately, when I read them or see them, my blood pressure skyrockets and I just feel angry overall.  I also get this deflated, disenfranchised, helpless feeling like there is no hope for any change via political channels that exist right now.  

I just don't think that is right.  I'm really not comfortable with it at all.

Lately, I've been reading a lot of essay compilations of Peace Corps volunteers and I feel so uplifted after reading them.  Reading them makes me want to pack and move to some hovel in Africa or South America to help poor people and get away from all this mess.  I wonder if I would rather live without A/C and toilets for two years to help someone than to sit in front of my computer and television and rot internally from being so damn informed.  I guess knowledge has a price.  And being a political junkie is like being an alcoholic.  It's addicting and totally not healthy. 

Anyway, I'm done with that rant.  Woogles and I are going to bed and I have a new book written by a Peace Corps volunteer in the bush in Africa that I am very excited about.

Gross

Someone seriously disrespected a toilet at work tonight.

 

I walked into the ladies' (whoever was responsible was no lady, so it's a misnomer) room and the first waft of the disrespect was so overpowering...so pungent...so noxious...It smelled like Maximus's crap.  Read: not healthy for a human GI tract.

 

Let me put it to you like this:

I was suprised paint wasn't peeling off of the walls.

Not only that but I was surprised my eyelashes didn't disintegrate.

And seriously, I wanted to smell my underwear for respite.  I wished I could have taken a crap myself because I'm pretty sure my crap would have smelled better.

 

Oh my gosh we need air freshener in that place.

Work Hiatus

I did an hour of overtime and then was politely told to get off the clock because we were running out of ereports. 

 

Nice.

 

So I guess now I have time to blog about my week.

 

Well, I arrived in Atlanta Sunday and was greeted by my dad at the airport.  We at mexican for lunch and then headed back to his place.  I love the townhome he and my stepmother have.  I took a two hour nap since I had been awake for about 24 hours and was unable to sleep on the plane.  When I woke up, my dad and stepmom were sitting in bed arguing about illegal immigration.  In their typical way, they saw I was awake and said, "Let's eat" as though no argument occured.  Then my stepsister and her family came over for dinner.  Brisket.  Yummy.  Deviled eggs.  Yummy.  But no bar b q sauce which made me sad.  Oh well.  We argued about the FDLS garbage at the table with my dad.  He thinks they are being singled out.  Boo fucking hoo.  I don't feel sorry for those cultists one damn bit.  After my stepsister left, my dad, stepmom, and I sat outside talking and smoking for a few hours.  I had a lovely time.

 

The next day (Monday), we all went to eat at Six Feet Under and drove around Atlanta.  I saw my dad's condo in Cabbagetown and we hit the fabric store so my stepmother could buy mosquito netting.  We went home, I took another nap, and we ate red beans and rice and charice for dinner.  I had my stepmother order Showtime and Showtime on demand so we could watch Tracey Ullman's State of the Union.  They were both in stitches.

 

Tuesday was where things got a little less....lighthearted?  My dad made this big deal about how I needed to be ready to leave the house at 9 AM.  Be ready, be ready, have your stuff by the door, no dawdling.  I was ready.  His ass wasn't.  It took about an hour just to get out of Atlanta because of the damn traffic.  I was sad to see it go, though.  I really enjoyed my time there and their property is lovely.  We stopped in Montgomery for Wendy's for lunch.  Also, we had to stop at every Pilot gas station because my dad says he "likes their coffee."  I was so tired.  I could barely keep my eyes open.  Talk about some serious jet lag.  Changing time zones and going from being a night owl to a day bird.  Ouch. 

 

My dad is a character.  He is supporting Hillary Clinton but he listens to Rush Limbaugh.  He even printed out a thing from Rush's website about which stations in which counties in which states to find Rush on the radio.  I nearly gagged.  I kept getting annoyed with Rush.  Talk about a blow hole.  Sheesh.  We also listened to the Satelite radio.  He put on Jamie Foxx's comedy channel for a bit, which was funny.  However, this one woman started talking about blow jobs very...ahem....graphically...and he didn't change the channel.  I asked him later why he didn't and he said, "Because you would have yelled at me that I was a prude!!!"  No, I would have been grateful not to listen to a lady making slurping sounds on a microphone while pretending it was a guy's dick while my father is ten inches away from me.

 

So, we get to Mobile and to my aunt's house around 4.  My dad left to work out at the Y and my aunt and I popped open a bottle of white wine.  We had a nice time talking.  She fixed her famous rosemary chicken and my cousin came over for dinner.  My dad got there and we had a lovely time.  After dinner, my dad stayed about an hour and then my aunt, cousin, and I sat outside on the patio until well after midnight or so.  Actually, I think my cousin left around 10 to take her fiancee leftovers.  Whatever.

 

I passed out around 1 AM or so.  The many bottles of white wine we went through did me in.

 

I woke up to my favorite breakfast ever that only my aunt can cook properly: scrambled eggs and Conecuh County Sausage.  Oh it is the very height of tastiness.  My stomach was upset from the wine but I ate it anyway.  Then Dad came and got me and we went to the storage unit.

 

The people at the warehouse had the six containers opened and ready to go.  One of the first boxes I looked through was my mother's business suits.  I nearly broke down.  Please understand that a lot of this stuff has been in storage since at least 2002, some stuff since 2000 when we moved from California to Mobile.  It was hard seeing her things but after a bit, it became banal.  This to Goodwill, this to auction, this to save, this to trash.  We were done in about three hours. 

 

My sister didn't come.  Frankly, I didn't want her there.  Apparently she is back on drugs and is possibly hooking.  I don't like being around her anyway.  I can't say I made much of an effort to contact her.  I feel a bit shitty about it.  Especially after the crying message she left me today that ended in "Screw you" but oh well.  I did save a bunch of stuff for her to go through on her own so she could have her own closure.  I feel bad but I don't feel bad.  It's strange.  Poor thing.  I feel bad for her all around.  She is so unhappy.

 

My dad and I ate sushi for lunch when we were done and I went to the bank to sign off on a bunch of paperwork.  I then went back to my aunt's and napped.  Lunch was wonderful.  The sweet little old japanese woman who made the sushi gave us free dessert: tempura banana.  It was so perfectly tasty.

 

I did take my mom's wedding ring, her camel hair coat, my old violin and mandolin, some books, a jewelry box, a box of my great aunt's photos and diaries, crap what else...I don't really remember.  My old soccer jersies, my mom's coach laptop case, a photo of my grandmother.  And most importantly: my "baby beecee."

 

"Baby Beecee" is this blue pillow I had as a baby.  I never really had an attachment to stuffed animals or blankets or anything but around fifth grade, I started getting attached to "Baby Beecee."  I thought I lost him in the move from Austin to San Marcos but I guess he never made it from Mobile to Texas.  Of course, he has seen better days but I nearly wept when I found him.  Now he is on my bed again. 

 

Anyway, I went back to my aunt's, took a bubble bath, and took a nap because I was so incredibly tired.  I mean, just drained.  Totally.  When I awoke, we all went to Dew Drop Inn where I ate like a pig.  Talk about yummy southern food.  I had a hot dog "all the way" and a plate of fried oysters with turnip greens and onion rings and hush puppies.  Oh, comfort food. 

 

We went and saw the condos that my cousin built as investment property.  Then we went home.  My aunt and I stayed up talking for a few hours and then crashed.  Before I fell asleep, I re-read most of the Eloise books.  I do love me some Eloise. 

 

I teared up when I left my aunt's the next day.  Growing up, I always cried when my mom, sister, and I backed down her driveway after a weekend visit.  I HATE leaving my aunt.  I love my aunt.  Her house was always filled with love.

 

Dad and I drove to New Orleans.  We had planned on having lunch but got stuck in traffic on the Twin Spans.  New Orleans is such a shithole.  I'm so glad he and my stepmother moved from that crime infested dump.  I wish another hurricane would come and finish the job Katrina started, sometimes.  Just cordon off the French Quarter, Garden District, Uptown, and Fauxburg Marigney as a historic site and let the rest go to pot.  What a dump.  It's like fucking Transnistria in the US. 

 

I nearly cried when Dad dropped me at the airport. I hate leaving him, too.  I guess I'm just a four year old kid at heart when it comes to my dad and family (sans sister). 

 

At the airport, I was going to check some baggage but the assholes at Moisant (I refuse to refer to it as "Louis Armstrong Airport.") changed the check in line when I got to the front so I had to call dad to come pick the bag up.  I got pegged for "super security screening" which was a pain, but whatever.  I got my flights and got home to Austin with little fanfare. 

 

Anyway, that's the run down of events.  It is almost time for me to get on my shift.  I don't know if I have the strength to blog about the other things.  At least not right now.

Trip

I'm just not ready to blog about my trip.  As I said earlier, it was pretty draining.  I had a good time, emotional time, sad time, revelatory time, and a very lot of eating time. 

I'm still trying to process it all and I'm too emotionally fragile right now to spell it all out on the blog just yet. 

Otherwise, things are fine at home.  Maximoose and I are getting ready to shower and read in bed.  He is curled up next to me on the sofa.  I think he is tired from neighbor walking him today. 

Such a waggles.

Exhausted

I plan on blogging about my trip later.  Definitely not tonight, though.

Words cannot describe how emotionally and physically exhausted I am from this last week. 

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This made me laugh out loud

Care of Christopher Hitchens:
I direct your attention to Mrs. Obama's 1985 thesis at Princeton University. Its title (rather limited in scope, given the author and the campus) is "Princeton-Educated Blacks and the Black Community." To describe it as hard to read would be a mistake; the thesis cannot be "read" at all, in the strict sense of the verb. This is because it wasn't written in any known language.

Atlanta

I'm now in the land of Scarlett O'Hara.

I slept two hours in a nap yesterday and passed out at 11 PM Atlanta time, so now I'm up.

My flight was nice and smooth and the xanax helped, but I couldn't sleep on it b/c of these loud fucking people ahead of me.

My dad has a sweet Dogue de Bordeaux I've bonded with.

I think we might go to Mobile tomorrow, instead of today.

I'm having too much fun with my step-family.

Woogles the Wiggly the Wagalay Won

 

 

 

 

Home Again

Work was muy boring tonight since Floozy is stuck at home with that rash.  Sucks.  El Jefe was in a particularly nasty mood at work...snapping at everyone on the queue and schmoozing with his boy-loves.  I was very tempted to send a nasty report email on him but refrained. 

Woogles is going with Thelonius Monk tomorrow.  I'm very sad to leave my wag-a-lay one.  At least my dad has doggies to tide me over.  A big dogue de bordeaux and a black lab/doberman.  But I won't have Woogles to sleep with and that makes me really, very sad.

I got him a new black collar yesterday when I got his nails trimmed at Petsmart.  I also broke down and got him a choke collar with the spikes.  I hated to do it but he is just going buck wild on walks and I can't have that happening at 4 AM when I walk him. 

Bomo might house sit for me while I'm gone.  He wants a place of respite from his sister and her (gag) children that have invaded his and Sister Mary Jane's like termites for ten days.  Poor baby just wants a quiet place for his dogs and him to sleep in peace.  I told him, "Sure, but don't so much as masturbate in my bed.  Until I get laid in those new sheets, no one else can." 

My sister is now calling me on a daily basis.  I always cringe when I give her my phone number.  At least she isn't calling at horrid hours.  I'll call her on Sunday when I'm in Atlanta.   My dad is having a bar b q and my step-sister and her family are coming.  I'm pretty excited.  They cook really well and I love my step-family.

I do NOT look forward to all the driving over next week.  Atlanta-->Mobile-->Austin.

Ugh.  Too many bridges and my anxiety is getting worse since I'm having to taper off the damn Lexapro due to the rash.

I guess Zoloft, Paxil, or Prozac is next.

I'm going to finish the last Pirates of the Caribbean movie, return it, and read before bed.

I want to spend as much time with Woogles as possible.

Enchanted

This is one of the cutest movies I have ever seen in my life. I wasn't sure I'd like it though I laughed at the previews. I was in the mood for camp tonight so I rented Enchanted and the last two Pirates of the Caribbean movies that I still haven't seen.

I really love Amy Adams. She is just too adorable. And damned if Susan Sarandon isn't one of the sexiest women walking the planet right now. She is incredibly evil in this movie and I just love it. Not quite as fun as Ursula (my all time favorite) but fun just the same.

I sort of wish I had a niece or daughter or something to take to this movie. A straight one, of course. I guess I'm sort of a hypocrite because if any movie studio made a lesbian "happily ever after" movie like this, I would think it was total crap. And I certainly wouldn't want to subject a child to it. But this movie is adorable. It reminds me so much of Sleeping Beauty and Snow White and all those disney movies I used to love as a kid.

Oh yeah, the not so Enchanted part of this post. The whole "niece" thing. I talked to my dad tonight apprising her of my sister's whereabouts. Apparently he's been privy to all this information for a long ass time. He thinks she is hooking. I wouldn't be surprised if she was hooking. She's living with some old guy named (and I shit you not), "Johnny O." I guess like the Miami Beat singer. He takes in wayward young girls. Read: Pimp.

My poor nephew. Poor kid isn't even two years old and his mom is hooking and doing crack (or whatever) in New Orleans. Nice. How does babydaddy explain that to him when he gets older. "Sorry, you're mom and I split up because she would rather be a drug addict and a hooker than be a mother to you and a wife/girlfriend to me."

My dad also said that after her last time in jail, the bailbondsman told her to try to get SSD for mental illness. So she went and got diagnosed as dual personality/schizophrenic. She took a few pills and then declined further treatment or something when the SSD claim was rejected. Well, duh, of course it's going to be rejected when you have a fucking trust fund, dummy!

The sad thing is that she probably is MP and schizophrenic. Or at least when she is drinking and doing drugs. I don't know what to think, really. I wish she would get help. If I could find a way to get her committed or put in a hospital for at least a good month or so, I would do it. She's been like this for so long, though, I don't know what good it would do.

Look, I can't be too judgemental. I get nuts when I drink. I struggle with depression sometimes. I've had the same crazy, obsessive thoughts that a lot of people have had. I can't be the evil stepsister here looking down on high.

I just don't understand how someone chooses to live like that. Is it mental illness or is it addiction? I don't know. Frankly, I don't really care.

I would really just like a "normal" and "functional" sister. That's all I've wanted for my entire life. Not some fucking bitch who gets me called out of class to deal with. Not some nutjob who gets kicked out of Kindergarten and Fourth grade, and eighth grade, and then drops out of high school. Not some crazy cunt who tried to kill my mother by stabbing her hand and then beat my mother up on a daily basis. Or perhaps not have a sister who was demanding money from my mother on her deathbed in the hospital?

Really, is that too much to ask for? Because I guess I'm asking for too much.

Libros

I went to the library today, as I promised myself I would.

I walked away with four books about Peace Corps, one about the Appalachian trail, and one about South Africa. I'm pretty much set for the next few weeks.

:)

They Rod and Thy Staph

I have wanted to blog about this for a long time but figured that I would spare the girls at work who are involved the embarassment. However, now that Floozy has a staph infection as a result, I see no reason to stay silent because the entire situation pisses me off more than I imagined it ever would.

There was a very happy lesbian couple at work. I'll call them "A" and "L" for simplicity. A and L were scheduled to get married later this year in Canada. They wanted to start turkey basting for children pretty soon afterwards. I never found either of the particularly appealing but love comes in all shapes and sizes and they appeared to be very in love and happy.

I hung out with them once at "J's" house. They were a very nice couple albeit a bit defensive around me, though I am not sure why.

Now I know.

A and L had an ongoing case of staph infection for a long time. They kept giving to each other. I guess because they lived together or couldn't keep their hands off each other. At work, we all thought this was resolved.

About two and a half months ago, A disappeared from work. The week before she disappeared, she was overheard telling a girl in my unit, JC, that L told her she didn't want kids. A was very upset. How could L lie about that for so long???

The next week, A disappeared.

A came back about three weeks ago for her Saturday night shift. She was never seen again.

We found out that the reason that A hadn't been at work was because she attempted suicide. Poor girl. Turns out that L cheated on her with J. Then poor A attempted suicide. Now A is moving back home with her mom and dad and going to work as a conservatorship worker.

L also disappeared from work. She cleaned out her pod the week before A came back to work and hasn't been seen (by Floozy or me) since.

J also disappeared from work for a few weeks. Ostensibly on "vacation."

We found out this week that J got the staph from L. Fucking cheating lesbians. Now they're spreading the staph all over the world. It's like a GD STD.

I can't even look at J anymore.

I tend to hate adultery, in case you hadn't noticed. Very rarely do I not pass judgment. I guess because I've been single so long and have no concept of what it is like to even HAVE a long, long term relationship much less what the need to cheat is about.

I'm more annoyed because the management at work knows that someone with a staph infection is running around touching everything and spreading the love.

Could some of this be work gossip? Probably. However, I have found in my experience that gossip is mostly true.

How unfortunate for A. I wish her all the best.

The Terror

I leave for Atlanta on Sunday. In Atlanta, I see my father and stepmother. On Monday, my dad and I drive to Mobile. Tuesday, I am supposed to go through my mother's storage unit with my aunt. On Wed, I am supposed to move my mother's shit into a cheaper unit. On Thursday, I am supposed to drive to Austin with my dad.

The one glitch in all of this?

My sister.

No one has had a viable phone number for her in months. Last we heard, she was living in New Orleans and was back on drugs.

I called up her babydaddy, a wonderfully sweet guy...how he wound up with her, I have no clue. He said he'd give her a message for me.

Within a few hours, I get a phone call from her.

Apparently, she has been suicidal and had a nervous breakdown. Her weepy voice on the other end of the phone was not very convincing of her plight. She says she is cleaning and painting houses in New Orleans. I don't know what the fuck that means. She also said she had a basset hound...until she drowned it. So I guess now she is killing animals? She is strung out as all get out. I have no clue what drugs she is on this time.

All I know is that she better get her strung out ass to Mobile so I can get that shit out of storage. If she does not, I will tear her a new one in court. I'll be goddamned if my mother's shit sits there another seven years while she sits in New Orleans stung out off her ass fucking strangers or doing whatever the fuck she is doing.

I should be more compassionate, I'm sure, but it's taking effort to even get pissed off at her at this point.

I should go to Al-anon for dealing with her.

And people wonder why I don't date or want a family of my own.

Star Wars

My family moved from Nashville to New Orleans in 1982.

Actually, precision of personal history. That is incorrect. My family left Nashville in 1981 and I went to live with my aunt from something like March 1981 to maybe June 1981. Maybe later. I don't really remember that part.

What I do remember was a nasty incident that transpired a little before I left Nashville to go to Mobile. I guess I was all of three, right. Like most kids and toddlers who came of age in the late 70s/early 80s, my favorite meals came from that (now)disgusting fast food joint by the name of (drumroll) McDonald's.

My mom and I went over to one of her friend's homes. The friend had a son who was maybe a little bit older than me. I guess that would have made him about four or five. I don't remember what he looked like. Just like any other little kid that I'd try to repel these days.

We went to McDonald's and us kids got Happy Meals. This was back in the days before Chicken McNuggets so I'm guessing I either ordered a hamburger or cheeseburger. The Happy Meal came in a plastic container that looked like a spaceship from Star Wars. I got a red one and the boy got a yellow one. He made me give him the red one and I then got the yellow one.

I was really upset.

Hmmmm

Work today was...eh...work.

The only deviation was that I got on the peace corps website and read up a bunch.  My friend from college, Smead, spent two years in Guniea and love it.  He's back there right now with his girlfriend spending time with old peace corps friends.  I had a conversation with him years ago after he got back about it and it fascinated me, but it wasn't something I was particularly interested in doing because I always figured I would end up somewhere more civilized....ie Germany.  I've been batting around the idea for about a month because it fits in to my desire to travel.  And if we get a democrat in office (please oh please oh please), perhaps the world won't be as mean to Americans.  And wouldn't it be cool to spend time in a third world nation for free (sort of) instead of paying my way through a first world nation?  I'm just not ready to go back to school and get entrenched in a career. 

Bomo and I have batted the idea around a few times.  He can't leave his dogs, though.  I could leave mine if I knew Woogles would have a good caretaker for 27 months.  Though I would miss him terribly.  I don't like leaving him at home when I go to work or Bomo's or trivia.

Smead also thru-hiked the Appalachian Trail which is what got me the bug for that.  I'm currently re-reading a bunch of books I bought back in Summer 2004 about the AT.  My fucking foot.  My fucking, benedict arnold fucking foot and that GD bunion.  Why oh why oh why?  I don't know if I could hike for a day now, much less for long periods of time.  It's so discouraging.  Ugh.  Not that I would do it for a few years, but whatever.  And I would section hike it, not thru-hike it.  But until I know for sure that this fucking, fucking foot is ok, I can't even hike the damn Greenbelt or Turkey Creek like I used to do. 

Floozy is giving me recommendations about books about South Africa.  I'm going to hit the library on Thursday when I have ample time.  I'm still in the midst of a book on the AT. 

Top Things I Love about Woogles

1) His hundisch smell
2) Spotted nose
3) "Woof" when frustrated
4) Waggalay tail
5) Soft fur
6) Stripe on nose and forehead
7) Pouty eyes
8) His hundisch smell
9) Stubby legs
10) Floppy ears
11) His hundisch smell
12) Tummy rubs
13) The licking noise he makes with his jowls
14) He's fun to spoon with
15) How he curls into a hundisch ball in the small of my back
16) Waggalay tail
17) EVERYTHING HUNDISCH ABOUT MY HUND