#HopeCurrency. The Bear, The Book, and The Birthdays.

See, these days, the good thing about me not updating in a week means that I’m writing more of my book and less of my blog.

Which doesn’t help if you like reading my blog.

But which may at least encourage you if you like my blog, and would like to see it in a book form.

Because I’m totally working on that.


While I’ve had a pretty exciting week of dog birthdays and Grandpa birthdays and patio redesign, I also heard some not so great news about a friend. I’ve written a few times about Ellen who has IH and has been through hell (like…HELL) and back this past year and just can’t seem to catch a break. It’s exhausting. I have had my fair share of hospital stays but god damn, I can’t imagine putting up with all she does.

You know, there are just some people you root for to be happy and healthy and the universe just doesn’t cut them a break. Sometimes I just wish there was a currency for “catching a break” and I could just hand it over in an envelope and make it all better.  Let’s call it #HopeCurrency.

And let’s make it rain up in here.

Wait. Are those Canadian dollars? Who let this fool in here?

Wait. Are those Canadian dollars? Who let this fool up in here?


To catch you up on my last week, here’s some news: we’re not moving because all the apartments we checked out looked like this:

And it was still $200 out of her price range. Urgh.

And it was still $200 out of our price range. Urgh.

My grandpa (Jack Schiff) who you should totes add on Facebook because he’s hilarious, turned 80 years old. (And look at that glorious head full of hair! I come from some good stock.)


And Happy turned three. So I let him have a sleepover with his best friend (and my 7-year-old cousin) Tiger (see above), then took him to breakfast with Tiger, and a few other dog friends and owners.

The word you're looking for is "spoiled."

The word you’re looking for is “spoiled.”

And then I threw a kegger for him at my apartment complete with all our (his) friends and cake and endless squeaky toys.

This dog wants for nothing. Nothing I tell you.

I also completed my dream of having a patio I could actually use by combining cheap lounge chairs and an outdoor rug. Happy approves.


I realize this is a pretty bipolar post about watching friends tumble downhill and wanting to help and celebrating a poodle living in perfect luxury to the ripe old age of three…but you’ve got to have a little bit of suffering and cake to really illustrate the ups and downs of life.