Does That Make Me Crazy?

Among the long list of characteristics that define me (cheese lover, nappy headed, karaoke all-star, etc.), there are two things that I've always known about myself that I figured would never change:

1. I don't like scary, gory, ridiculous horror movies involving wolves, vampires, zombies or monsters of any sort.
2. I believe animals should never be subjected to the humiliation of pet clothing. (For the record, Baxter once had a red polo early in our relationship. I've been apologizing ever since.)

This week, I've felt my stance on these topics slipping, and taking with it, everything I've known and believed about myself. Here's what's happening:

Monday night, Ty and I watched "Zombieland." I didn't want to watch it because it sounded very stupid. And five minutes into it, my opinion hadn't really changed since I'd already seen a zombie tear into the ligaments on a dead human's neck. We were eating dinner at the time, and I wasn't sure I was going to make it through my chicken or the movie.

But then something started to shift, the movie made me laugh, and I looked over at Ty and asked, "Is this movie good? I think it's actually very good!"

And now, I've found a zombie movie that I really like. And today, I found out there's a sequel in production and due out this year. I will have to watch it, and I believe that officially makes me a zombie movie fan. The shame! The horror! The humiliation!

This morning, I came across RoverDog on Etsy, specifically The Spectator Jacket pictured above. I thought about how precious Baxter would look in seersucker and how well it would coordinate with his salt and pepper fur. I'm not sure how I would ever be able to get those buttons buttoned, but this would be such a cute outfit for Mr. B.

We had to stop dressing Baxter in his red polo because anytime he was dressed in it, an act of defiance would soon follow. One time, he walk-pooped across the living room just before a family meal. Nothing can fade your appetite faster. And I'm confident it was on purpose.

Even when I look at the dog in the picture in his cute seersucker jacket, I think there's a sad look in his eye. The look that he's been beaten down into submission and forced into a seersucker jacket ... he looks defeated. But very cute.

See, the line is beginning to blur. And taking with it everything I once knew about myself.

In the words of songster Gnarles Barkley, does that make me crazy?