Lisztomania.

Wow. Long weekend. Jam-packed with ups and downs. Downs of the frustrating variety, not the depressing variety. The variety that makes one stomp around muttering "fuckfuckfuckfuck" under one's breath. The variety that makes it abundantly clear that I'm not ready for children. Or dogs, for that matter. Since they are, underneath it all, small furry children who never grow up or take care of you when you're old and diaper-clad.

On the flip side? Fantastic good times sort-of made up for it. Immersed self in a band whose music causes pure elation and helped rid me of the "fuckityfuckfucks".

Shall we?

***

Last week decided to do a selfless thing (won't say altruistic, since there was definite reluctance on my part) and told my mother about great seat sale I found online that would allow her to go visit stepdad in BC. Unfortunately, this conflicted with her puppysitting for the brother and sister-in-law, who spent the weekend in Vancouver. Sister was also unavailable, having written her MCAT on Thursday (fingers crossed!) then immediately skipped town for Jasper.

With most friends and all family out of town, I decided to take one for the team and babysit both brother's dogs and mom's wee old grump for Sunday and Monday. Easy, right?

Friday
Washed the new car lovingly for the first time, did some housework and went to see Funny People with one of my favourite sets of marrieds.

Saturday
Decided to enjoy the weather and go shopping, purchasing three new CDs (now on heavy rotation in the Yaris's stereo) and The Lovely Bones, a fantastic read that I quickly devoured over the course of that evening and Sunday afternoon.

Spent Saturday night observing another wicked thunderstorm in Sherwood Park at the brother's with mum. Slept (un-)comfortably with three mixed-and-matched sized bedmates:

• Alden, the well-behaved, 5-year-old lab mix
• Colby, the football-sized Ewok/old man
• Maggie, the year-and-a-half old whippet/demon spawn

Sunday
Awoke at 5am to get mum to the airport on time, driving through a surreal blanket of fog that made visibility nigh impossible and made me feel like I was travelling across some Scottish moor. Creepy yet cool. Returned that afternoon to get ready for the Big Valley Jamboree in Camrose, which was later cancelled after the main stage collapsed in Saturday's torrential downpour and tornado-like winds. One killed. Seventy-five injured. Sad.

Was supposed to see Jamboree with former work girlfriend, but we decided to meet for lunch in Edmonton instead. Since I'd put the dogs outside in the sun for the better part of the day, I (wrongly) assumed Monster, erm, Maggie, would be fine out of her crate for an hour or two while I had lunch. Wrong.

***
I should have known better, considering that in her short 9 months with the brother and sis-in-law, Margaret has been whisked to the emergency vet clinic several times: once having inhaled an entire bag of M&Ms while brother's back was turned, resulting in a $400 stomach pump; the next time requiring her head examined when her face swelled due to a self-inflicted black eye and simultaneous ear infection. Also, considering that she has eaten several pairs of sister's shoes and has a nasty habit of pissing on the carpet if you look at her sideways, this was my bad.)
***

Returned home to what looked like the remnants of a frat party, replete with cups and paper strewn everywhere and shaving foam (!?) covering every surface. Seems Maggie found brother's travel toiletry kit and proceeded to gnaw up the deodorant, shaving cream can and all the razors in sight. Fortunately, razor blades were found and accounted for, so there was no emergency vet trip to remove those from pup's stomach. Shaving foam left carpet sticky, but, luckily, the longest-lasting effect will be a noticeable cologne smell in the living room. Idiot dog.

Monday
Another night of dog cuddles, this time more welcome, as the temperature had dropped noticeably. Put pups outside for some playtime, then headed back into Edmonton with Colby, who was feeling a little peaked. Figured he'd be less bothered by spending time with Ollie in my apartment than by having Maggie constantly harrass him to play. (Lesser of two evils: being pounced on by dumb dog or batted at by bored cat?)

Got home and had time to feed pets, take shower, and grab a quick bite before I met my friend for trip to Heritage Festival. Exited shower to find that, not only was dog sick, he was sick on my floor. Grumbling and cursing, I took him outside, where he promptly howled and had diarrhea, which, being a responsible pet caretaker, I had to clean up. Lovely. Returned inside to find out that he was sick not only on the floor, but on the couch. On my white crocheted blanket. That my grandmother had made me. Ugh. So, now running further behind, and still not full of breakfast, I tossed my blanket in the laundry with bleach and hot water and tossed the dog in the tub, where he received a vigorous bath, followed by a quick towel wrap and an unceremonious dumping on the couch. He was then warned not to puke on the carpet, lest his little ass get a beatdown.

Then it was off to the Heritage Festival with C.P., where we enjoyed delicious meats-on-a-stick from around the globe and took in dozens of sights and sounds. Mmm, multiculturalicious.

On our way back to the shuttle downtown, sister called from Jasper in pain, wondering what to do. I took the obvious, "go the hospital, dummy" route, which she did, though didn't seem to pleased about it. Apparently, it was a ruptured ear drum made worse by an undetected ear infection. And that, friends, is why I don't go cliff diving.

***

And now, the best part of the weekend: my new Phoenix album, "Wolfgang Amadeus Phoenix". French rock/pop band with a great single (1901) that I've played approximately 37 times over the course of the weekend. Nothing short of euphoric. Please, buy this album. The songs gave me goosebumps and made me smile when I'd rather have been grumbling about idiot canines.

Have a good week. Immerse yourself in Lisztomania. You won't be sorry.