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This week’s That’s What She Said is about watching people fight in cages. Um, yes, really.

See!

Labor Day is a big deal in my country town. All the long lost children arrive at the town hall for a giant picnic and rodeo. This year my brother, Ben, and I even toured the town museum, which is really just a collection of court records and wedding invitations.

Among the pictures I found one of Human Rosie Finlinson and her husband:

Is it just me or does Dog Rosie Finlinson bear a strong resemblance?

They both look sweet and innocent in their pictures, which is so not the case. Human Rosie was playing nice for the camera, while Dog Rosie was drugged out of her mind post surgery. I wish Human Rosie were still alive so I could introduce them. She’d hate that I named a dog after her, but she’d secretly be pleased that she wasn’t the only wild animal in town.

Read “That’s What She Said” to hear about my camping adventures.

Every camping trip requires an obligatory gun photo shoot, right?

To see additional pictures go here.

I’m thrilled to see August end. It’s been an emotional shit storm for me. I’ve had to make some difficult life decisions, you know, the grown up variety. As a result I’ve been a giant ball of stress and anxiety.

I can’t discuss most of what’s going on, but I can mention that my lease ends in a month and I’m not able to extend it like I had expected, which sucks on so many levels. Can I even find a place that will accept two dogs, one of which is a puppy? Do I give Rosie Finlinson back? Or do I step up and buy my own house? I’ve been a complete mess trying to figure out what to do.

Enter three amazing brothers.

They all caught wind of the situation and jumped into the picture immediately. Each of them called and offered me a place to live while I figure things out. I have three brothers who are all willing to house me and two crazy, farty pugs so I don’t have to rush my decision or give up Rosie.

I was so incredibly touched by their offers, because I know they all meant it. When my brother Jeff said, “Sarah, everyone loves you and we have your back.” I couldn’t even respond. I was too busy pretending not to cry.

Sometimes I forget just how much they care. Jeff’s words reminded me of my favorite Avett Brother lyrics: Always remember, there is nothing worth sharing, like the love that let us share our name.

It’s such a simple statement, but holds so much truth. I really am so lucky to share the name Nielson with them. It’s not quite so scary seeing what the future holds when I have so many people on my side.

This week’s column is about my so called vacation in San Diego. See also: My friend Kelli is fired. To see pics from the trip go here.

My friend Jeremiah called me fat. Can you believe that shit?

He will likely pretend he didn’t say that, but he invited me to go hiking yesterday. Um, hello, that’s exactly the same thing as telling a girl she needs to exercise more. Why else would he invite me? I’m not exactly an outdoorsy chick and I’m super whiny when the conditions aren’t to my liking. This is code for sober.

Jeremiah coaxed me up Neff’s Canyon with a bottle of wine. He knows me well. The two things that motivate me most are wine and fear. He managed to use both in one day. I should explain the fear thing…

I’m not scared of him, not at all. He’s a hippie and everyone knows they wouldn’t hurt anyone or anything. And if he did I’d threaten to rip his favorite tie-dyed shirt. The fear stemmed from the storm that threatened our perfect hiking conditions. Getting hit by lightning is not my death of choice. Speaking of which, I’d rather drown in a wine vat. Also, I’m not an alcoholic. Yet.

We didn’t die, but at the point of destination I checked my iPhone and got this:

I was pretty sure, by this point, that Jeremiah had invited me because he intended to kill me. I can’t blame him. I do question his manhood a lot, and tease him about his love of Hugh Grant and jorts.

I prepared the best way I could: I drank. I’ve seen enough movies to know you always get a last meal before you die.

Wine is and will always be my meal of choice.

P.S. I wasn’t murdered.

P.P.S. I’m not as much of a wino as this post implies, but only because I forgot to wear my wine rack hiking–also known as the best invention in the universe! It’s like a Camelbak, but obviously so much better.

P.P.P.S. The rest of the photos can be seen here.

This new puppy is ruining my life, and greatly contributing to my future as an alcoholic. My brother called to check in on things last night and I vented my frustrations.

“Ben this dog is so wild. I am not sure I can handle her.”

“Yes, Sarah, you can. You’re just not used to puppies. Daisy was never a real puppy, she was more like an aging butch lesbian when you adopted her.”

“I guess… I just can’t deal with wild.”

“Her namesake was probably just as wild in her youth. You probably jinxed the dog by naming her after Rosie.”

“Not possible. Did Human Rosie eat boxes?”

“I can’t say for sure.”

“What about underwear? Do you think human Rosie chewed on those?”

“Without a doubt… I also expect your dog to fall in love with Frank Sinatra and pick up a nasty smoking habit any day now.”

I hung up with Ben and walked outside to find that Rosie has dragged all my purses into the backyard. I ran back inside to see what other damage she had done and found this:

I think it’s safe to say the bitch will live another day. I’m a sucker for cute.

Rosie Finlinson has a serious shoe fetish, or maybe it’s a thong fetish… either way it’s ruining my goddamn life. Luckily she doesn’t chew on them, but instead she drags them into the backyard.

I hate it, but I’m way too lazy to find a new place for my shoes to live. It’s easier to just try and pawn her off on anyone who will take her.

Seriously.

Yesterday the guy roofing my house was playing with her in the backyard. I use the term play loosely. What I really mean is that Rosie ran circles around him as he cleaned up.

“She’s so cute. Do you know where I could get a pug?”

“I do. You can have this crazy bitch right now.”

He laughed, but didn’t take her home. Who’s the crazy bitch now? Oh right, me. The one who decided a second dog was a good idea.

Read this week’s That’s What She Said to meet Rosie, the newest member of my household. See pictures here!

Action Nerd: “ Hey Sarah, if the four of us climb K2 you’re going to have to die… OK?”

Me: “First of all no, and secondly why would the four of us even do that?! We can’t make it to the freaking hot dog cart together, let alone climb the world’s second largest mountain.”

Action Nerd: “Whatever. You’re going.”

Me: “No, I’m not.. besides why do I have to die? Art Nerd is way more likely to die.”

Action Nerd: “Sarah, only one in four people survive and they are never women. You’re just going to have to die so we can live.”

Me: “I’m not dying for you jerks. Plus, if I’m going to climb a mountain it’s sure as hell not going to be with three nerds. That’s days of math, chemistry and code talk. No way.”

Action Nerd: “Sarah, if the safety of your family were at stake, then  would you climb it with us?”

Me: “Fine. If someone threatened to kill my family unless I climbed K2 with a group of nerds, well, then I’d go.”

Action Nerd: “Sweet, you’re committed.”