The Dow Is Up!

There's a saying that says that America and England are two countries separated by a common language. Read this article about a bet on a soccer game. I think you'll understand the saying better. And the British a lot less.

I have my first interview of the year tomorrow. Hopefully, it's not the last one either. It's for a Large Accounting Firm (LAF) downtown, for their valuation business. Basically, I'd be doing the same thing I do here at M&S, but for more interesting clients. And theoretically, for more pay.

One of the problems with this job? Rick (formerly of M&S) works there now. I don't mind Rick. Especially if he's not actually running the company. Plus, the valuation practice is about 45 people, so I wouldn't have to deal with Rick all day. That'd definitely be a plus. Besides, once I get into the company, I can start taking professional exams (CFA, maybe CPA, maybe actuarial) and get out of valuation work. So, really, this job would be a means to an end.

I don't have many more solid leads right now, but I'm supposed to be meeting with my portfolio professor next week to discuss things. It'd be nice if she could get me into a hedge fund. Then I'd basically just be doing math and playing with spreadsheets all day. I know that sounds like one of Dante's circles of hell to most people, but to me, it'd be like the garden of eden.

As The Wife points out, only 43 days until I graduate. That doesn't leave a whole lot of time to interview for jobs. So, hopefully the interview with LAF goes well and I don't have to worry about it anymore. Cuz I'm starting to get a little stressed about it.

This past weekend was the first of six weddings for me this summer. It was a great way to kick it off too. There was much drinking, much dancing, much jackass-ery, and no vomitting. Good times all around.

I don't know what it is about weddings that I love. It certainly isn't the ceremony. I wouldn't mind skipping those at all. In fact, I wish I skipped mine, but that's a different story entirely. Actually, I don't even really remember my wedding ceremony. I remember The Wife walking down the aisle and crying her eyes out. I remember staring at her cleavage while she recited her vows. I vaguely remember the pastor mispronouncing my name. And then I started drinking and everything else is a blur.

One thing I love about weddings is the games you can play. At this wedding, we played "Spot the Celebrity" where you look for people who resemble celebrities. I found both Neil Young and Rick James at the church and couldn't help but think about the supergroup they'd make if we could get them to perform together.

I also like wagering on things like the length of the Best Man speeches and the number of times people clink glasses to get the couple to kiss. I really like analyzing people I don't know so that I can win the bets. At this wedding, the best man couldn't make it because his wife just gave birth two days earlier. (I know what you're thinking and I agree. Come on, his WIFE gave birth. HE didn't. Slacker.) So I had absolutely nothing to go on. I did know the Maid of Honor (the bride's sister), though, and was completely surprised that she gave a short speech. I thought for sure she'd tell some heart-wrenching story about when they were kids and how she always looked up to her sister. Nope, none of that. I think I might be spoiled by my brothers who combined to give about 3 hours of Best Man speeches at my wedding.

I had a great time dancing at this wedding, which isn't always the case. I'd say about 1 in 4 weddings, I just cut loose and act like a complete jackass, the kind that always ends up in the videos. If you haven't seen me dance, it resembles an epileptic seizure, but with less rhythm. And that's BEFORE I get drunk. I hope I can work up the energy to dance at all the weddings I have coming up this year.

Anyway, it was a great wedding and I really enjoyed myself. Much thanks to the newly wedded couple. I wish them nothing but the best. Though I wouldn't at all complained if they decided to get divorced and remarried (to each other, of course) in the next few years. I just LOVE weddings.

This week, I'm on Spring Break for what should be the last time in my life. And it couldn't have started out any worse. On Monday, I was all excited about cleaning out the garage so I could build a workbench and some cabinets. I was getting Luke ready so I could drop him off at daycare and have a nice day to myself. I let the dog out to crap since she was being all antsy. Luke took this opportunity to run upstairs, so I chased after him. He was holding a Shel Silverstein book, so I took him downstairs and started reading it to him. That's when I noticed the whining.

I didn't fully register it at first. Then it persisted. And that's when I remembered that Mocha was outside. I went running out there to find Mocha outside our backyard, hovering over something. I yelled at her, at which point, she picked up the animal and shook it. I realized at this point that it was another dog, a mini pincher (which basically looks like a chihuahua). The rest of the events are a bit of a blur.

I got Mocha into the house then ran back to pick up the other dog. The other dog was none too happy about this, biting at me to keep me away. So I ran inside, threw on some clothes, grabbed a towel and ran out to pick up the dog. At this point, the dog was getting limp and I knew it wasn't good. I threw it in my truck, grabbed Luke (still in his PJs), threw him in the truck and headed to the 24-hour emergency vet. By the time I got there, the other dog had died.

I tried to figure out what to do from there. The dog Mocha attacked had no tags or identification. I had no way to get in touch with its owners. I didn't even know if I should report it. The vet said that I could post signs in the neighborhood. That didn't seem right to me. "Missing a dog? My dog killed it." I ended up calling the police and reporting the incident. I figured that if we had lost our dog, we'd eventually report it to the police. And as much as I'd hate having our dog die, I think I'd feel worse not knowing what happened to it. I hope that the other dog owners feel the same way.

As for what to do with our dog, Mocha was gone as far as I was concerned. We were either going to put her to sleep or send her back to the dog shelter from which she came. After discussing it with The Wife, we decided we had to put her down. The biggest worry for me was that she'd get adopted by another family and have a similar thing happen. I couldn't live with that guilt. Besides, Mocha had grown too attached to us. I don't think she'd be able to handle another family.

And that was part of Mocha's problem. She was too hyper and worried. She'd freak out whenever we left. She'd freak out at the slightest sound in the house. She'd freak out if people walked by the house. She'd freak out if dogs got anywhere near her. She just couldn't calm down.

Since my brother is a vet, I called him up and told him the story and that we wanted to put Mocha to sleep. He was kind enough to help on his day off. So I took Mocha down to his clinic and he put her to sleep. It was really tough for me to do it, but I just kept thinking about how the other dog's owners must be feeling.

And so our experiment with Mocha has reached an end. We tried everything with her, but nothing worked. She kept getting worse and worse. She was tolerant of Luke, but I worried about how she'd be around other kids, especially if they started playing rough. I'm glad we won't get the opportunity to find out.

So our house is a little more quiet now. The cats are getting more obnoxious because they don't have a dog chasing them all over the house. The carpets, thankfully, are no longer getting pissed and crapped and puked on. Well, not by a dog anyway. Things seem a lot calmer now, but emptier too. I know we'll get another dog eventually, but probably not for awhile. I just hope that our next dog is a little more friendly than Mocha was. Of course, it'd be hard not to be.