"I'm always where I need to be…"-Kooks

Before I begin my usual blog of glory and you all gape in amazement at the wisdom overflowing my lips like a rabid fountain (YES! That is wisdom, thank you very much!), I need to mention a few things.

First, I'm sorry. This is a long entry. It just worked out that way. If you're a friend, you'll read it anyway, the same way you went to the Genesis concert with me instead of seeing Cinderella like you wanted to. Trust me, you got the better deal. Now read this and thank me later.

Second, I'm a day late. My parents got a new puppy, and I was going to tell you. They called me Sunday, making sure I was the first to know. Take that, oh sister of mine! Nya! Now I feel better. My parents also promised to blend table scraps for me and freeze them. That way I'll have something to eat next time I visit: a nice steak smoothie. Isn't family the best?

Friends are good too. You have to be more careful with friends than family though. If you Nya! friends, they'll stick a hairball on your tongue and walk away. Family will at least hang out long enough to hand you a lint roller and take pictures.

Recently I've been surrounded by "friend" stuff. I figure God's talking to me, but he's really got to work on his God to Rob dictionary. I don't quite understand what he's saying. Whatever it is, I'm sure it means something like "Rob, get off your ass."

"¿Que?"

That's what real friends do. Tell you what you don't want to hear. One friend emailed me an article about bloggers dying off like flies. Yeah thanks for that cheery coffin of entertainment, friend. According to another blog I read on another day, friends are like 80s band Nena: they have hairy armpits. No, wait, maybe that makes them like Dexy's Midnight Runners. No, maybe I'm just misquoting friends. Friends do that too. Yeah...it's got something to do with the balloon thing...I could look it up, but this friend is lazy. That friend won't mind if I misquote and butcher her words. That's another things friends do: they forgive.

That's right! That friend said that friends were like balloons, that you had to rub them on your head to keep them static. Otherwise, they float off on you. I got to work on that Rob to friend dictionary thing. Mine sucks. Anyway I tapped her blog shoulder and said "I disagree." I practiced one of my friend rights: correcting.

See, like I told her, friends may float away on the breeze, but real friends find a way back. I could have quoted the old Michael W. Smith "Friends" song, but I was a afraid she'd heard it. I'm supposed to be original. That's my charm. That's my friend shtick. I needed to find a deeper fount for my friendly plagiarism. I tried TV's Friends, but found no wisdom there.

Oh well, I'll just make something up. I make up friends all the time, why not make up advice for them too?

It worked. I said something about friends never really leaving…blah, blah, blah…That real friends were there, even when you didn't know, and that they'd pop up again…yadda, yadda, yadda...I sounded smart! I was on a roll! So I continued. I posted that with real friends, an honest "I'm sorry" could epoxy any cracks.

You, dear friendly reader, would be proud: I stopped a full paragraph before I got to the "Love is never having to say you're sorry." thing. Yeah, real friends don't say that.

Another friend emailed me. She was concerned about my social life. She mentioned she'd seen me blogging, and posting on other blogs. She thought I should spend my time "out there" finding somebody real. She said I needed to find "a wonderful woman."

I emailed back that I was trying, but going slow. Just the other day, I walked my dog, Cosmo. I felt bad for keeping him leashed up during the wall building. Did Pharaoh keep his cats harnessed while the pyramids where built? I think not! Although harnessing the power of cats would have been fun to watch. Yeah, that and the weekly cat bath of the Nile. Good times!

Me? I walked Cosmo. Somewhere along the way though, we picked up a hitchhiker, a small black dog looking for friends. He joined our walk, and led the way back home. My home. Friends are great, but there's something annoying about when they invite themselves over.

"Sorry dude, I haven't cleaned the house."

"Aww, c'mon!"

I walked Cosmo out back, where he dove into his water and laid down. Well, not at once, those were 2 separate activities, but he did seem to enjoy them both. Going back in, I noticed the small black dog was still on my porch.

"Hey, can I borrow a cup of kibble?"

"Sorry dude, go home."

He's not leaving. I hate friends who do that too. Sometimes it would be nice if friends were more balloon like. I can tell he's got other friends: He's got a collar on. I decide to see if his call data was there. I bring him in and hold him under the light. He doesn't have a tag, but there's something written in marker around the collar. I start fiddling with that; it says his name is "Blackie."

Blackie thinks all this attention means, love, so now he's licking my neck. I normally like to go out to dinner before we begin this activity, but I need to read the rest of his bio so I humor him. He is a friendly, spunky fellow.

The white strap around his neck says he has another friend named "Gabby." Gabby's got a phone number, but isn't as indelible as her name; it's smudged out except for like 3 digits. That's no help.

So I put Blackie back outside on the porch with a "go home" order, then close the door.

"I licked your neck! You scratched my butt! I live here now! Let me in!" He now thinks he is home. It’s a barking whining combo. It sucks. Blackie's a cute pup, but somebody else misses him. He needs to float back home.

After an hour on my porch announcing his presence, I'm wondering if Blackie can take a hint. It's 10pm. I'm also beginning to wonder if I'm an asshole. Yeah, I can hear MyUnwife buzzing in on this one. Thanks babe! I'll mark that one tally for "Asshole." No, your vote doesn't count twice…

I IM another online friend for a judgment call. She's a puppy mommy, and has a house trained husband. She's an authority on men and dogs. She'll help.

"What do I do?" I ask. I don't want to leave him out there all night. If I bring him in, it isn't fair to Cosmo, who's now out back. If I move Blackie out back, he's gonna bark out there. What if he teaches my old dog that new trick? My thought is to bring in Cosmo, then bring in Blackie. Get them acquainted, but let Cosmo know he's family. Tomorrow I'll find Gabby.

My friend agrees. I'm not such an asshole after all! But now it's quiet outside. Blackie is gone. Did Gabby come and get him? Apparently so. I've since heard Blackie's now distinguishable bark coming from one of the yards around the block. I just hope balloon boy knows he's got a friend over here whenever he needs to float off.

So one of my friends is worried about me "socializing." I am socializing. Ask Blackie. I'm just not diving in yet, I'm sort of dangling my feet in the water and watching all the pretty balloons bob around Rob.