Jack.

My family got a new golden retriever puppy named Jack. He is adorable, but mostly right before he goes to bed and right after he wakes up. In between, he bites everything he can get his teeth on and pees and poops everywhere. Naturally, this is to be expected of a puppy, but I have cuts all over my hands and arms and all I want to do is hold him, not yell at him for biting me. I am a bad animal trainer because he is too cute to scold so I talk to him like he is a person and will understand me. He doesn't, and usually thinks I'm wanting him to continue "playing with me." His face goes from an angelic adorable face worthy of being a puppy model to a scene from animal planet of a lion eating it's pray, and he snaps his teeth onto my hands, or legs, or arms, or face. Anything. For the time being, I'll say he's teething to justify his satanic transformation, but hopefully this doesn't keep up for too long. I don't think my hands and skin can handle the torment.

Hors d'ouvres passing

I work as a caterer at the Nike Tiger Woods Center. Every time we have a fancy event that requires a plated dinner, there are usually hors d'ouvres involved. For some reason, when we receive our assignments for these events, I am always a passer. Although there is something formal and eloquent about having food passed at events--and people are usually hungry--I think it is silly. Not only does it put an unnecessary amount of pressure on my wrist, it causes the party attendees to have to make funny jokes with me to make themselves less embarrassed for taking their sixth beef satay. At every formal/reception event I've ever been to I prefer my favorite food to be stationed at one place and unmonitored, so I don't have to feel embarrassed for eating a meal's worth of appetizers.