DC Earthquake- I'm All Shook Up

This one time, there was a magnitude 5.9 earthquake in DC.


While I was at work.


Oh yeah, that was yesterday.


People are joking about how it was really not a big deal but, as I was in the city when everything started to shake, glass started to crack, bricks topple into the street and onto cars... it seemed like an attack had happened somewhere in the heart of the capital. Which caused me to have a heart attack before I realized, of all things, that it was an earthquake on the east coast. 


Really? Really?!


After calming down and realizing it was just a natural disaster not a national disaster, I waited out the vibrating and then was evacuated from my building with the rest of my coworkers. 


Came home to where my dog was soundly sleeping as though the house hadn't shaken, roommates all home and a flutter with earthquake talk.


Needless to say, it was a big deal. At least conversationally, ha.  So, where were you when the earthquake struck? I was in my office having a panic attack. But otherwise! Good times?


Also, the following conversation really happened to me this morning. My co-worker can back me up if you don't believe me.

City Life vs. Wheaton Life

I can’t believe it but, it’s almost been a year since I moved to Washington DC. I’ve really just got to say, this city is amazing.

I had never been here before moving. Which was quite the experience, by the by, moving to a city I had never SEEN at the drop of a hat. However, my life shifted, entirely. I got this totally wrong for me but totally amazing job offer, seemed to FEEL called to take it even if it was what I never wanted, and so it was all I could do to shift with the new turns of my life. Even if, as I can assure you they didn’t, the paths I was being pulled toward didn’t make sense to me.

And I am now so glad God presented such a path. That my family supported it and worked it out for me, that everything has been so spectacular for me here, so RIGHT for me here, since I moved.

I digress. Sorry. I am just pretty much ecstatic with how my life bloomed into something I couldn’t imagine. Life’s funny like that, huh?

Prior to living here in DC, I lived in a smaller suburb of Chicago. Accent on the suburb.  Wheaton is my home, despite the other cities I’ve lived in, residences I’ve taken up, and places I’ve worked- Wheaton is where my roots end. Florence, Dublin, DC- they all have pieces of my heart, have been a home to me in some way. However, Chicago is the place that comes to mind when I think “Home”.

Going from my life in the suburbs to living in a big city is always an adjustment- the comparisons often being jarring/hilarious.

Online Dating

Hi! Remember me? This is lil cartoon me- remember?

She sometimes appears when I blog about things outside of cooking. Back when I use to blog at all. Sorry I disappeared on you guys. This is one of those times when things stink to crazy degrees for having time for a blog- so, sorry I have been neglecting them with such fervor lately. My life has exploded. Much like my system was exploded with germs before. I was sick over the holiday weekend and then I got back and had this… well,  I’m moving this week and just had a huge themed going away/Harry Potter party (pics and recipes to follow SOON!) and then I also have Mack living with me now (the dog, my dog) and as I said already I was sick/am sick/feel like I may always be sick.

Which is why it was the perfect time to go to Seattle for 4 days. It was one of my best friends weddings and totally worth it (PS, no one ever told me how kickin' Seattle is!), but it wasn't helpful to rush to unpack and pack up to go across the country. Washington to Washington is no joke, guys.

Anyway. My life exploding is not the point.

Although, that explosion looks cool. The point is, I love this blog even if I don’t always do it justice. So!  Back to the purpose of this comic: Online Dating. I have this friend who told me to try online dating. And I said ‘sounds fun!’ and then she said, but ‘I mean seriously, Meaghan’.

And then I had to inform her that I don’t take many things (anythings) very seriously. That I am the kind of grown up who still is afraid of dry cleaning and doesn’t always know what her bank balance is up to. And then she reminded me we were talking about online dating and then I reminded her I had changed the subject on purpose and then she told me it was time for me to Date seriously. Again with the seriously. And also, Date. With a capital D-Date, not the lowercase d-date like I have been doing to this point. And then a debate erupted from this.

Saving Money

Yep. This is slightly late. BUT! Only by 2 days.

That's probably improving. Even if this is a short comic. Just the one image.

However! As you can read, I am trying to get a house! It's a hot mess right now, lots of leases and budgeting (which, I clearly was not cut out for). I am flying home this weekend and we have a new roommate annnnd- in conclusion.

One again my life is a whirlwind and as I try and hold on, I dropped a few comics...

I will make it up to you as soon as possible! Promise. I even posted a second recipe on Friday. More recipes and comics to come, kids! Hang in there.

And wish me luck as I try and navigate houses...

My Blog: The 1st New Comic in Ages

So, this blog is still just a mess. And, story time, I have been terrified to post my new comic here. Thankfully, my roommate who is endlessly amazing told me to get over myself. Most likely you guys would like whatever I put up. And if not, no one is going to make you read. She seems to think you guys find my tone enchanting. She's amazingly smart so, maybe she's on to something. And if not, I can tell her I told her so. 

Win win.

I've been preventing putting up this comic since the page crashed. I've made a ton of excuses and then suddenly I was out of excuses. It was time to post this... I went on, this all written and ready to go and WHAM- blogger crashed for over 10 hours. 

Fate, telling me not to post. Insecurities flooding back. Roommate telling me to woman up. The problem is, this whole thing can make me insecure. I realized that when I designed these comics I should have tried to be more interesting. I really dropped the ball there. I wouldn't be insecure if these were just epic. Sadly, I made this blog all about me and my life which, as a whole, isn’t all that interesting or epic.

Not by lack of trying, I assure you, but sometimes I just have boring weeks or blah moods.

I should have made my cartoon me more riveting. Or more intriguing. More something. So, I started to brainstorm all the ways my blog could have had more charm. Or still could if I gave the entire thing a facelift. For example!

I could have made this blog a first person point of view saga of the Scooby Doo series. Told from the point of view of Thelma (who was clearly the most awesome character with her orange ensemble and stellar vocabulary), each week would describe the inner workings of Thelma’s mind as she lived through each mystery the Scooby gang tackled. I would never be lacking inspiration because each episode in itself is inspiring. Nor would I be light on humor since every episode was clearly hilarious. Plus, as a character from Scooby Doo, this page would be popping with amazing word play and some truly spectacular onomatopoeia. That’s a win for everybody.

My blog could also have been created to support some sort of a cause or create awareness on an important issue. I could have crusaded across the blogosphere, trying to get people to support good things and joy! Trying to create awareness or spread the cheerful good will toward man. I don’t know what Rainbow Brite was all about but, that seems like the kind of blog she would have. Support rainbows for the kids! I could have been like my childhood idol, guys. And yet, I let the opportunity slip and now no one is supporting rainbows. At least the single ones, double and triple rainbows seem to be getting a lot of attention at present.

On the same token, my blog could have had meaning. Could have been deep. When people read my page, they could have been stunned at the inspiring words I spewed out toward them, amazed at the depths of my soul that were just bared onto the web. You guys could have read my stuff and come away feeling bettered by my writing. The deep issues on deep things could have stayed with you, giving you pause and quiet contemplation, as you puzzled my deepness over. And instead of being shallow and spastic, I’d be artistic and misunderstood. I’d totally quote Shakespeare whenever I could and actually like coffee, or at least pretend to with authenticity. I would seem to vaguely hate everyone, vehemently hate bright colors and cheerleaders, and scowl a lot. I’d probably say “bloody” in a really pretentious way, like it’s a word that Americans COULD say too if they were only deep like me. Sadly, no one is deep like me and when people try to be that deep, it usually backfires and they look like ridiculous hipster posers.

In reality, guys, they are just totally misunderstood. Like I could be, could have been, if I’d only thought of it sooner.

On the other hand, my blog could also have been a total escape from reality. Sunshine and bubble gum and hearts, 24/7. I could have made this a place for fairy tale life where nothing was ever wrong and I pretended like my life was perfection. Written like a Disney movie version of my life, only without the Prince at the moment. Like Jasmine’s life before she met Aladdin. She was totally my favorite Disney Princess, by the way, even if I drew myself in a Belle-esque manner. Belle and I just seem to have more in common- brown eyed girls who like to read, love to travel, and tend to see the best in everybody. Plus, Belle has a pretty day frock and then a friggin’ gown which is a wardrobe I could totally be on board with. Jasmine’s outfit makes her look like an ethnic 90's popstar but, I don’t think I could pull it off exactly.

I try and keep this blog upbeat and I avoid swearing and more adult themes but, still, I think maybe the complete veer off into Disney princess land would make the blog boring eventually. Maybe not at first, and definitely not if I could convince Alan Menken to compose my life, but eventually it'd be dull sunshine. Man. If I could get Alan Menken to compose my blog, it wouldn’t be boring at ALL. Then my life would be Oscar worthy. However, without the complete transformation provided by Disney magic, I am rather certain the Princess lifestyle should be avoided.

I think the easiest way to have made my blog awesome would also be one of the most simple, to just write everything as Dr. Suess would have. Sure, it’d have taken me longer to figure out how to say everything in the right rhythm and pattern but, I’m sure it would lend itself to a can’t miss post every time.

I would truly never post too late, and you readers would not hesitate! My themes would always work out great, but I’ve no rhyming posts to date!

Wow. That little blurb plus the comic's caption took tremendous rhyme effort. Best left to the Doctors of the world, clearly. Not to an amateur such as myself. I just have a measly BA. By Merlin’s beard, that was exhausting.

For now, I guess you’re clearly stuck with me. And these pesky comics. As is. If you don't like them, don't read them. I don't think they're changing. Although it is still fun to imagine how cool I COULD have been. The Scooby Doo blog is particularly tempting. Someday, maybe. If I can ever find some knee highs I can pull off and the time in which I can attempt such a self improvement project. Seems unlikely but, ya never know. In the meantime... that's all she wrote. Hopefully you think it's worth the read :)

Change of Plans

So as some of you, (one of you, Matt Austin), may have noticed, I didn't post last week. But, I didn't forget. I did it on purpose.

No really. I did. 

I have been swamped in my life and, when i was in California, my mom asked me why I was running myself ragged and stressing about things that were supposed to be fun. This was just one of the things I was stressing about but I realized, I didn't have to.

I can post less. And then I am still doing it but also still enjoying it.

And I will have time to write again. Because that, which is the point of it all, had fallen to the side of my life when it should be close to the center.

I hope you all understand that I want things to work out and that's why I am doing this. So, I posted two weeks ago! That's the new routine. New header and everything. Expect my next comic by tomorrow at midnight! Things will be happier. Things are happier. Things have been happier. 

I hope you're happy too :)

Metro Warrior

I cannot ride the metro. It goes against nature. Or at least, against my nature. I am incapable of doing it without injury, panic, or confusion. Public transportation is, in general, something I try and avoid. If I can walk or drive, that is what I’ll do. Having to commute for work, however, the metro is all I have left.

I always try and start the day super positive about the experience that will soon unfold. I pull on my beast of a backpack for work and try and tell myself I will get to the office unscathed.

Also, that’s professional cartoon me. I look all pristine and nice like that when I get ON the metro. Not when I get off usually. I like how savvy professional cartoon me appears. She is much more sensible than my usual cartoon self and brings home the bacon that keeps this blog working. Usual cartoon me just wants to buy shoes.

Same as usual real-life me.

Anyway, the first problem usually becomes clear with my huge bulk of a back pack. As I turn and move in the station, I am nearly taking out my fellow commuters with a vengeance. I appear to be like some wobbly baby elephant, stumbling around and unsure what to do with the sheer weight of me. My paperwork and laptop threaten to crush my spine and then I in turn threaten to crush pedestrians. Whenever I walk around with that stupid backpack, I feel like an evil Ninja Turtle, intent on using this fridgin' giant shell on my back to dominate all.

If by some miracle there is a morning where I DON’T knock a stranger out with my backpack, I still usually struggle to stay upright. Not because of the weight of my bag, although that clearly helps matters, but because I am extremely clumsy and trying to stay steady on a train that jerks you around is almost impossible. This constant starts and stops of the car play with your G’s and make your body move forward with the train that WAS moving but HAS stopped if you aren’t careful. To try and not fall on anyone or anything, I try one of three techniques.

The third technique is by far the most embarrassing and least successful. I usually end up losing my balance and running into train windows or other passengers, next trying to stumble back into place like I didn’t just topple over. I also always have the song “Wipeout” stuck in my head for the rest of the work day because, inevitably, I am singing the song in my head as I strike my failing surfer moves.

Even if I am not falling on them, people on the metro always seem to hate me because I’m from the Midwest and it hasn’t been beaten out of me with the city yet. I will say “excuse me” and “sorry” when bumping into people… and sometimes I will accidentally say it when bumping into things. I’ll offer my chair to others if they get on the train and there aren’t any, I’ll apologize for blocking the door, and sometimes I will get off a train and wait for the next one if there is no standing room and the person next to me seems desperate. Doing such things genuinely confuses the normal DC commuter but, they take it in stride. What they do not understand and actively seem to detest is morning conversation.

Which is a shame since, when someone is as in my face as the metro forces some poor soul to be every day, I usually cannot help but talk to them. For the morning commute, people are packed like sardines and it is hard not to make eye contact with anyone. I usually try to read but, sometimes your arms are pinned to your sides by other bodies.

Seriously. It can get so packed that you could lick two people without turning your body.

If you are claustrophobic, just avoid. Also, I would never lick a stranger. I wouldn’t even lick a good friend. As a rule, I don’t lick other people and you really shouldn’t either. You don’t know where they’ve been and, if they are on the metro, you probably don’t want to know.

As I said though, I make a ton of enemies every morning by speaking. And no matter how I try to avoid it, I seem to have conversation vomit when someone is 6 inches from my face and openly staring at me. I feel like other people would normally react that way too but, apparently not since the usual reaction is astonishment that I am speaking.

Me: A bit tight in here, huh?

Metro Companion: ...*blink blink*....

15 awkward seconds of judgment later 

Me: Yeah… you wouldn’t happen to be getting off at the next stop, huh?”>

Metro Companion: ....*blink blink*.....

Me: Awesome.

I was heckled once for bumping into a woman and saying “I’m sorry”. She freaked out and demanded I not be sorry for her but instead just say “excuse me” which is the proper phrase and also doesn’t take away any of her self respect and worth.

I was mortified. I think I almost passed out from the stress of making another person so upset with me. I try and be a really nice person and, despite my personality to call ‘em like I see ‘em and my humor poking fun at anything and anyone, whenever I have really upset someone in the past, the remorse and guilt are overwhelming.

I still apologize without thinking when I bump into people but since “the incident”, I have an aftershock of immobilizing terror that I may have just offended them.

Yay, being polite AND compulsive.

The worst metro moment for me though is the escalator. While I don’t USUALLY have problems on the escalator, the one time I did, it was so much worse than all my daily trials at the metro. Combined. I missed my footing and fell down about 5 steps, jamming my elbow down first, ricocheting my forearm on the step above that, cracking my back on the stairs and then my back pack, and ramming the back of my skull on the up- most step. The entire thing happened in 5 seconds and then suddenly a flurry of people were around trying to help me and making things worse.

My back is STILL covered in these blossoms of bruises from that and it happened 4 weeks ago. The stepping on my hair caused tearing too which is a GREAT look, lemmie tell ya. And for some reason, everyone asks which way the escalator was going (down) and then seems relieved with my answer. It makes me wonder if they are concerned that if it was going up I would have just been perpetually falling. 

No, guys. That wouldn't happen. 

All in all, public transport is not made for people who are as clumsy as I am. I don’t know how normal people survive it and it’s convenience. Everyday, there is a new battle against the train and surviving.

Thank goodness for the walk-ability of the weekends…

Not Thursday

You know what today is? Not Thursday. Not Thursday at all. Today is not even kind of Thursday, it is in fact Friday, which means I am totally horrible at blogging.

Horrible.

Especially since this is STILL not a post. 

I am going on vacation this next week with my family. Because I am doing that plus had awesome house guests for the past weekend plus have this full time job that sometimes makes me do stuff- I have had no time. For anything. I think my brain therefore deluded itself into believing it had MORE time than it actually had. Yesterday, I walked around believing it was Wednesday with absolute, scary, certainty. 

Me: Okay, so Thursday night-

Co-worker: You mean tonight?

Me: What? No, tomorrow night.

Co-worker: Today's Thursday. So you mean tomorrow, Friday night.

Me: Yes, tomorrow night.

Notice how I didn't acknowledge the dates? Just when/how I wanted things to happen? "Tomorrow night" was all I was thinking. And that I needed more time this week. I seriously woke up this morning freaking out because I almost missed an appointment for Friday solely because I'd been convinced that it was Thursday morning. DESPITE KNOWING IT WAS NOT THURSDAY MORNING. My brain seemed to pick and choose when to know the date. It really wanted an extra day to write a post for you guys but, it didn't happen. And now, since as I said I am going on vacation, you won't get a post for two weeks.

I know. I'm a cotton headed-ninny-muggins. 

But you see,  scanners don't live at our house in California. So, next week will also not have a post because I won't have posting abilities. This will be me next week. 

I will clearly be in no place to post. I'm stranded in a pool. Look at those freckles sprouting on my face from the sun damage. I'm clearly going to be in crisis mode- not comic mode.

Look, none of you readers are real readers. You just claim to love me. You have to throw me a bone here and let me slip up these two weeks and just wait patiently for a post when I return.

Since you're being so very good and so very, very patient. Here is a comic to tide you over. 

Baseball season is officially upon us! Yay for today!!! Here you go:

My favorite cubs joke used to be "What do the Cubs and the Yankees have in common? They both haven't won a series in their new stadium!" ... but then 2009 happened. 

Such a bummer. Pesky Yankees. 

Happy St. Patricks/GB Day!

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! I am sure a lot of you are celebrating today with copious amounts of drinking. I am not sure yet how I will be celebrating but, I did make Irish Soda bread! That is at least one small way I will proudly recall my Irish heritage.

Which, is funny anyway. In Ireland, St. Patrick’s Day is pretty tame. Here in America, the Irish immigrants and the “everyone is Irish on St. Patrick’s day” mantra has made the whole endeavor a crazy drink a thon.

Speaking of, please allow me to introduce to those of you who do not know of this concept of drinking and green the holiday known as Green Beer day. 

My Alma Martyr is Miami University, a place of serious collegiate celebration. Picture every cliché you can imagine for a college and my old school probably fits the bill. This is the Miami University in Ohio, by the way, not the one in Florida. If you are interested, you can buy t-shirts from Miami’s bookstore that say “We were a University before Florida was a state!”

Which is true. Doesn’t make it cool, but it is true. Miami University is actually in Oxford, OH too so, you could say “I studied in Oxford!” or “I went to Miami University!” and let people think you are cool and either went to school in Florida or England but… either way, it’s just Ohio.

A lot of nothing around Ohio, too. It’s essentially a small college town in the middle of corn fields in the middle of Ohio. Don’t try and book your trip there all at once, guys. They have limited hotels and spaces, and the entire town is really just one long street outside of the campus called High Street that looks kind of like this:

So, it’s your typical college town. Bars, takeout, and coffee shops. Oh, and a bookstore for good measure. In case this isn’t clear from my tone thus far, I actually really loved my school. Not at first when I had some homesickness as a freshman and hadn’t found my footing but, by the end of my time there, I was devastated to have to become a grown up. I am happy now with where I’ve landed, but every so once in a while, I miss the crazy lifestyle that was my undergrad experience.

And in terms of crazy undergrad experiences, Green Beer Day is first on the list. Green Beer Day, also known as GBD, is a day devoted to the drinking of Green Alcohol. I only celebrated it as a Senior (when I was both 21 and NOT studying abroad, which hadn’t been the case for my Freshman-Junior years at Miami), but even with just one Green Beer Day under my belt, I can pretty easily summarize the experience for you all. Once upon a time, Miami University had an outrageous St. Patrick’s Day celebration every year that caused the university to get upset every year about the turmoil the students caused. Thinking they would avoid the whole mess, the college administration moved Miami’s spring break over St. Patrick’s Day in order to prevent any celebrations from happening. Without missing a beat, the students dubbed the Thursday before spring break Green Beer Day. It became its own Oxford holiday and has been celebrated annually ever since. Obviously, beer is the favored drink. However, it’s an all encompassing, “pick your green poison”, kind of day. The day pretty much goes as follows:

1. Wake up at 5 AM, the bars open at 6AM, and the 16,000 other students on campus are going to be waking up and getting in line soon too.

2. You should already wearing your GBD t-shirt as PJ’s so as to make getting dressed at 5AM as easy as putting on jeans and tacky green jewelry. Speaking of which, you should have ordered that t-shirt months ahead of time, looking through all the designs by different students and groups carefully to find the GBD tee that most spoke to your personality. 

3. Stumble out of your apartment with your roommates. Wait in line in the freezing cold before the sun is up wondering if this is worth it. When you finally get inside (which takes about 15 mins if you are a girl, 45 mins to an hour if you are a guy), celebrate! This involves loud music, green lazers, and leprechaun liquor…

4. When slightly buzzed, you have a few options. You can continue in celebratory fashion (which means you can skip down to step 7), or you can do what my roommates and some of the other kids at Oxford who actually cared about their education did. This is when you stumble out of the bar and back into the sunlight at 9AM and go and get breakfast and drink lots of water. 

5. After breakfast, you go home and clean up for class. While getting ready, do not cut off the bar wrist band you got this morning. Instead, you should carefully tuck your wrist band into your jacket so your teachers won’t see but also so you can get into the bar later without having to wait in line. Don’t make a rookie mistake like green teeth either, that will ruin this entire effort of trying to appear 100% responsible when you’re really only 80% there.

6. From 10:30 until 4PM, you will be going to class and getting extra credit for      being such a good student. Try not to sway in your chair from exhaustion/any lingering alcohol affects that the pancakes didn’t absorb. Also, try not to snap at your teachers who made attendance mandatory just to be meanie jerk faces. You may even have to take a midterm. For these teachers, try not to sulk. You showed up, you have to listen to their lecture about making good decisions without telling them that you are college students and have your whole life to act your ages and now is the time in your life to think green food dye warrants a holiday. 

Any resemblance here to Professor Fisher from Miami’s English Department is entirely coincidental and not at all a reference of any kind to imply he was a stick in the mud on GBD when this author still went to his class and tried to learn about fiction and he ranted for 70 mins.

7. It’s now 4PM and, either from a full day of skipping class and drinking or because you spent your morning drinking and then had a full day of classes, you are now exhausted. Take an epic nap from now until 8PM. That’ll fix you right up!

8. It’s 8PM! Wake up and get some food in your body! Once that pesky chore is      done, clean up again and go back up town with your roommates to celebrate further. You will now be overjoyed that you kept your wrist band when you see the crazy lines forming all over High Street. 

9. After a green night in which you danced to a lot of Ke$ha, drank a lot of unnaturally green things, played fun games like “I spy the undercover cop”, and took a lot of amazing/embarrassing pictures, at 2AM when the bars close, it’s time to go home and know you celebrated GBD like a  Redhawk champion. 

For all of you still lucky enough to be Miami students, I hope you are having a great Spring Break right now and that your GBD last week was awesome. When you graduate, GBD is just a random Thursday in March where you say “ha, remember when…?” a lot. To all you fellow grown ups/non Redhawks out there, today is St. Patrick’s Day! You can probably find something green to go drink if you really feel the need to do so but, keep in mind, a lot of things that you did in college should really STAY in college. I was never very good at being a rebellious college kid though, always went to class and the like. However! Go have fun or at least wear green and wish someone a Happy St. Patrick’s Day.

Long live Ireland and alcohol ;)

Not a Cat Person- Sorry, Stef

Look, guys, I’m sorry but… Dogs are just way way better pets than Cats. I think its interesting how everyone out there are very strongly on Team Dog or Team Cat- a debate on superiority that beats out even Jacob and Edward.

I have 5 awesome, irrefutable reasons for this!

Well, 3 awesome reasons, 2 that are just okay. But 5 seems more solid.

Listen. Animals are cute. I will admit cats are (in their own way) cute. Repeat, in their own way but, still. Cute. Fine.

If you own more then one cat and are a chick, you are flirting with the line of crazy cat lady. Cats and alone you just smells of the stigmas attached, even if you are normal. It’s not a definition yet though. That will happen when the cats outnumber you.

Here’s the math. You get a point for you, a negative point for each cat. If you end up with negative points, you are a crazy cat lady. 1 to 1, you are fine, neutral so, flirting with the line, but fine. A very scientific, not made up, equation. 

If you have a spouse and family, they each count for 1 point too. So, if you have 3 cats but, a husband/partner and two kids (3 pts for them, one for you), you are fine! You even have a point on your side! Not a crazy cat lady. 5 cats, 3 kids, 1 husband- you are still fine! But you are neutral, which we all know by now means you are wavering with a dangerous line. However, just READING “5 cats” probably gave you a clue to that.

Sadly, if you have 3 cats, and 1 spouse… you are a crazy cat lady.

I feel like if you have 6 cats and no partner, you don’t have to do the math.

However, even if you live alone, in an isolated, sad, lonely, environment and you walk around muttering to yourself but you also happen to have 3 dogs, no one is going to call you “crazy dog lady”.

Probably will call you every other kind of crazy they can think of. But not “dog lady”.

People tend to understand owning lots of dogs. No one questions it when people have even unusually high numbers of dogs in their households. I am talking 4, 6, and litter amounts. I do not know why this is, it just is. Heck, even in all cute dog movies out there, having a family of dogs makes sense and no viewers question it.

Granted, the viewers of dog films tend to be children but, I digress. In all the puppy movies I can think of (from Beethoven to Beverly Hills Chihuahua), the sequels have the original dog, their litter, and a host of other characters who may also be living under one roof.

No one called them crazy. And the woman who took in Lady and the Tramp? She wasn’t called crazy.

Look, just saying, even in Homeward Bound, the dogs outnumber the cats 2-1. Which, considering in that case (or, one could say, most cases of cats and dogs) the dogs are the better, less, annoying characters. If Homeward Bound was about Cats and a dog trying to get home, I doubt it would be recalled as a classic film.

More like that movie with the cats.

Just comparing 101 Dalmatians and The Aristocats, the stigma is clear. The dalmations owners are taking into their home LITERALLY a hundred dogs. That is some serious clean up and demand. And yet, we all just think they are funny and eccentric. The owner in the Aristocats? She is a crazy cat lady. She is exceptionally rich and also exceptionally awesome but, they illustrate this woman to be the epitome of crazy cat lore.

I’m sorry for all of you who are dubbed crazy cat people. Just own the correct ratios and you SHOULD be fine. Just be careful. I hear that liking cats, owning cats, and then becoming a crazy cat lady is a slippery slope.

For those of you who are not Dog people, you should know that Dogs can smile. They can wag their tail, jump on your leg in joy, and open their traps in definite grins.

Dogs can portray a positive emotion.

Look at that girl! Such a goofy smile is impossible for a cat.

Cats just cannot be goofily happy or positive. Cats can definitely not smile, or, maybe, are for the most part unwilling to smile or be anything other than weary of people. They CAN purr. And sometimes, look smug. I still don’t know if purring is legitimately a positive about life thing or just happy that their pet human is doing what they want kind of thing.

Either way, cat smiles do not exist outside of cartoons as far as I know. I honestly do not spend much time with them though so, I could be wrong.

Dogs are trainable. In helpful, life saving, life altering, kinds of ways. This could honestly just be the trump card reason why Dogs are better. They actually make THE WORLD better. They can be trained to do amazing things which, when paired with their instincts to be loyal to their owners, makes them very often animal heroes. Cats can be trained to use a liter box, but so can little toy dogs when properly enforced. I am not impressed.

Dogs lead the blind, do everyday helpful tasks such as open doors or fetch the paper, and save people from disasters such as drowning, fire, and avalanches. They are man’s best friend and actively enjoy being trained to do so. They can even be used to find bombs, drugs, and bodies. A dog is an asset as well as a friend to society.

Cats will actually eat their deceased owners as soon as they turn cold if left alone with the body. Fun fact.

"Stop Thief!"

Dogs are not just good at rescue maneuvers, they can also make great guardians. They will bark when new people enter the house, or in the case of our snippy little dog, when anything or anyone enters the premises. They are a natural alarm system for your house and, if you own a dog, your house is significantly less likely to be burglarized.

Cat’s natural instinct to wander in an aloof manner from room to room is likely to remain in tact/cause them to hide if your home was being robbed by threatening men with bats.

Dogs are just naturally man’s best friend, they should therefore be acknowledged as the best choice of pet. Our family goldens have been known to be so happy and friendly toward all visitors that they would actually not make good alarm systems at all. Moose and Tobes would both probably decide a burglar was their new best friend and try to get cuddled and help them rob us.

Mack, our toy dog, is grouchy and like a cat. He doesn’t like strangers or people very much, just our family. We love him, despite that. I imagine it's similar to how most people love cats. They are small and cute so, their personalities aren't the key players in loving them.

Most Dogs, though, are like our big sloppy goldens. They have a winning personality, one that is fantastic because it is actually a very warm one to be around. Dogs have personalities that, if they were people, you'd actually want to be friends with. Cats have personalities that lead me to think they would be snooty and wouldn't want to get a beer and talk with me, preferring a Chianti and some modern art exhibit. The only cats I have ever liked, I have always said the following about.

“I like them. They have dumb dog eyes.”

This doesn’t mean that Dogs or those specific cats are dumb, it just perfectly describes the look. The look of pure kindness and friendliness as the creature walks up to you, settles in, and decides you are their friend for life since you showed them an ounce of affection.

A personality goes a long, long way. And Dog’s personalities are a majority of happy, personable creatures, whereas Cat’s personalities are mostly aloof, independent, snots. This isn’t the rule, I know a cat my friend Stef has who is perhaps nicer than my dog, Mack. Because her cat is strangely friendly for a feline and Mack is grouchy and old and hates life.

However, as a rule, Dog’s are nicer animals. Which means, WIN!

Go dogs !!

UPDATE: In case those didn't convince you, this will. Coolest animal award for life.