My Odd Duck

When Sweety gets home from work, the first thing he does is put boxer shorts on. Then he tucks his shirt into his underwear. I find it odd that he doesn't tuck the shirt in again when it becomes untucked.

Have a great Half Nekkid Tuesday!

Random Bits

Everything went well with Sammy yesterday. I told the owner that we will take him if he is neutered first. The owner's family has to move across the state in 2 weeks and he didn't know if a vet could fit them in before they move. If the Neutering Fairy can fit Sammy into her schedule soon, then it will be a sign that he is meant to be with us. He isn't housebroken but is paper trained and I can deal with that but trying to housebreak him and trying to keep him from marking my furniture would be too much. I don't want to see his wiener poking out all of the time either. Now that I've met him and see what a sweet dog he is, I will feel really bad if he doesn't get fixed and we don't take him. Part of me wants to say, "We'll take him! Balls and all!" but I know that would not be a good idea and would be too much of an imposition on the other canines and Sweety.

Last night Sweety and I had our first financial planning meeting. We sat down and laid out all of our debt and came up with a plan to kill that motherfucker. I was so relieved when the meeting was over and Sweety hadn't brained me for being such a dumbass and running my credit cards up again. (I may not have mentioned that he as bailed me out twice before...) We've always had separate bank accounts and we're going to start putting everything into one account. The plan is to make minimum payments on everything for the month and put our extra money aside. We'll use the extra money to either completely pay off a bill or knock a big chunk of one down at the end of the month. And we're each getting an allowance. Mine is more than his because as Sweety said - I do pretty stuff with my money so I get more. I appreciate that even though we are working towards getting out of debt that he is allocating me money to not look like a troll while we do it.

Tomorrow is payday! Yay! Tomorrow, I will pay bills and take out my allowance for February. I think I'm going to start using cash instead of my debit card so I keep track of what money I have in a more concrete manner. Tomorrow will be the last check that I get under our old bonus system at work. I've already calculated what next month's bonus will be and it will be 1/3 of what I'm getting tomorrow. I don't mind though! I love my job so much that I'm glad they've found a way to save money! *insert gagging sound here*

BigBrother's science project got picked to go to the science fair and it's being held this weekend. He is at his mother's house this weekend and she was given information about the science fair a little over two weeks ago. A conversation was had in the meantime along the lines of when the boys are at her house she will tend to whatever is going on and when they are at our house then we will. I swear, if some stupid excuse is given and he doesn't go, I will stomp a mudhole in someone. I'll probably start with Sweety and work my way around. I sincerely hope that she takes him because I don't want him to look back on his childhood and remember the shit his mother didn't participate in because she was too busy with the rest of her litter. Maybe I will start a therapy fund for him now.

I slept waaay in this morning. Tuesday night has turned into Gin Night. It is something that I can drink that doesn't turn me into a mean bitch or the shirtless girl in the corner. (Tequila - I love you but you just make me too looney. You were a good friend for a decade or so. Damn, sometimes I miss being the shirtless girl in the corner.) After one particularly loud night spent with tequila, our neighbor came over the next morning and asked Sweety if he was okay because he heard a commotion the night before. Oops. I wish I could drink at work. It would make the day so much more bearable.

Auditioning

Everyone say, "Hola!" to Sammy. He is trying out for a spot in our household.

He's 6 (or 7?) and his owners are moving and can't take him. I know that Stinky won't be around forever and I don't want Tiny Dog to be alone in her golden years. He's going to be here today while his owner is at work so I can see how all of the canines get along.

I was afraid that as soon as he entered the house that they would fight to the death in the living room but so far, so good. It seems that he is willing to let Tiny Dog keep her title of Dominant Dog and she's trying to get him to play with her.

I swear, I won't turn this place into a dog blog.

P.S. Here they all are so you can see how big he is. He's just a couple of pounds bigger than Tiny.

The Things We Do For Love

We ordered a dietary supplement for the dogs. It is supposed to help stop shedding, decrease odor, increase happiness, up their energy, make them prettier and help them be more popular with the opposite sex. It doesn't say so in the advertisement, but I am hoping that it will restore Chi Chi's youth and roll back the hands of time for her.

It was with great excitement that I ripped open our box of The Doggy Fountain of Youth and realized that Chi Chi would not eat it.

I tried mixing it with her dog food. She turned her crusty nose up at her food dish for two feedings in a row and I started worrying that I was going to starve her in the quest for eternal life. I mixed it with some berry flavored yogurt but no dice.

Sweety brought me some vanilla yogurt (I thought that maybe the scent of the berry kind was too overpowering for her.) and she turned her nose at that too. In an effort to get her to eat the magical elixir - I offered her some on my finger.

She ate it all.


Feeding Chi Chi the magic potion is something that I've been doing in the evening with her. It's our time to bond.

See that brown bowl on the table? That's one of the things that I told my Grandma that I wanted when she asked what I wanted before she died. I like to feed Chi Chi from Grandma's bowls because she (in her bug-eyed, confused way) reminds me of Grandma.

Have I mentioned that I adore this little canine?

Field Tripping

Today was the day of BigBrother's(13) FFA contest that I had volunteered to be a taxi for. The entailed rising early while the sun was still asleep and making ourselves presentable. Can you tell that it was too freaking early for us to be posing for photos or did we pull it off? My eyes were still gummy when that photo was taken.

When BB is wearing his big boy shoes, he is as tall as me. I need to go crazy on him and beat him with a broom or something so he doesn't ever get the idea in his head that he could get the upper hand on me.

Tell me that he isn't shaping up to be a handsome fellow! Maybe I'm bit biased...


His team didn't win so they don't get to go to the state championship. It's being held in Orlando and that's only a half hour away but the kids would get to stay in a hotel for 5 days and they were all really wanting to do that. This is evil, but a tiny part of me, like .02 percent is glad they didn't win because I would have been a chaperone for that trip and I don't know that I could handle being "on" for 5 days. Next year - we'll all be ready next year!

Have I mentioned that I don't like being around people? Today was a test. On every other field trip thing that I've been on, the kids have been doing something that the chaperones were a part of but today it wasn't like that.

There were 2 other moms that drove and I sat with them. One of the women walked up to me and said in a very chipper tone, "I know that you have no idea who I am but I know all about you!". Turns out that she is best friends with our neighbor. (The neighbors that leave their little dog tied up outside all day and wouldn't let us cut down the tree of doom.) The ladies were very nice but all the chit-chat made my head spin. I went to the bathroom a lot.

I have a cold or my sinuses are rebelling on me or something. I've had a nice, phlegmy sounding cough for a couple of days and I had to get up and leave the auditorium a few times so my hacking wouldn't be heard over the kids' doing their thing. I think I pulled a muscle or something coughing because now when I cough, it feels like I'm being stabbed right under my ribcage.

This same thing happened a few years ago when I was sick. At the time, Sweety had a wild hair up his ass and was going to school to be a fireman and had just gotten his Emergency Medical Technician certification and told me that maybe I had coughed until a rib was broken and it had punctured my lung. (umm, nevermind that he gave me that nugget of medical advice as he was groggily waking up in the middle of the night because I was having a coughing seizure.) I took that to heart and trotted to the emergency room at 2 a.m. to have the doctor look at me like I was a hypochondriatic nutjob.

I was so tired when I got home today that I passed out on the couch with a chihuahua snugged in each armpit and a basset hound between my knees. I woke 2 hours later because my right armpit was burning. It was burning because Tiny Dog had licked off my antiperspirant and the first 2 layers of skin. Have you ever tasted antiperspirant? It makes your mouth all numb. Why would she want to do that to herself? I think she has a problem and needs an intervention and a trip to rehab.

Technologically Retarded

Can anyone point me in the direction of a program (free would be nice) that will allow to you to rip a movie from a dvd and email it? I will not tell you how much of my life that was wasted today downloading different programs in an effort to do this. I'm on a mission now.

Ouch!

Sweety and the boys are always wrestling and roughhousing around. I've told them a hundred times that someone is going to get hurt. I say this because I have a feeling it will be Sweety and last night he got his.

He got a head-butt to face while him and LittleBrother(11) were goofing around and broke his fucking nose. I hate to say, "I told you so." - but I did!

Last night some of us got off of work a few hours early since we were so slow and decided to go and have a few drinks. This is the first time I have ever done anything like that in the 6.5 years that I've been here and of course, the night that I'm late is when Sweety is trying to call and tell me that his nose has been broken.

Luckily, LB hit him straight on instead of from the side so it doesn't look too bad.

I knew something was wrong as soon as I stepped out of my car because I could hear him snoring from the garage. He said as soon as it happened he puked and then fell asleep. I guess that is the body's way of dealing with trauma.

He let me squoosh it and it feels all smushy.

A Totally Unhygenic Confession

Tiny Dog is basically potty-trained. If you take her outside every 3 or 4 hours, you won't find any "gifts" on the floor. Every now and then - I mean once in a blue moon - I find a Tiny Dog turd on the carpet by the front door.

Since this is such a rare occurrence (especially if I find it at night), I consider it a treat. A sign, if you will.

A sign to take the offering that Tiny has bestowed upon me to the back porch and fling it over the fence into our neighbor's^* yard.

^* The non tree cutting down/can't believe that I'm not a "believer" neighbors. (BTW, the tree in that photo? It's leaning waaay over our fence now. When it falls, I'm burning it where it lands

Woot!

Where am I? I am holed up in Sweety's office at work and stealing wireless internet service!

The only thing that kept me going at work yesterday was the fact that I'd decided to call out today. I had a killer backache and more mind numbing shit that our new supervisor is hoisting upon us and it made for a very long day. Today I have an appointment with my doctor to get some things refilled and a new dose of head medicine. Hopefully, this with restore my tattered sanity.

And I got laid this morning. Life is good.

My Favorites

And this is just because I like that little pink tongue.


There are other places to go for some half-nekkidity!

I Feel Shitty

SWEETY, DO ME A FAVOR & JUST SKIP THIS ONE.

I'm just going to do a brain dump today and I'm not going to worry that my sentences or paragraphs are structured properly.

Sweety is all freaked out because I'm not happy with my life. I can't help it. But now I have the added stress of trying to be chipper for him when I really want to take chainsaws to people and then jump off of a bridge. It bothers him that he can't fix why I'm unhappy. It's not his thing to fix. It is mine. I literally walk around thinking, "I hate my life." And I know I have a nice life. Food to eat and a nice place to live. But I really hate my job. I know it's just a job and I should leave it at work but I can't. Especially now that The Wicked Witch of the East is my new supervisor. I spend my days off dreading having to go back to work.

And it's not just work. I'm suffering from a big dose of parenting burnout. If I'm not at work, then I am at home with the boys on my Tuesday & Wednesday off. I'm tired of haranguing kids BigBrother(13) to make his bed or do his chores or do his homework or stop picking on his brother. I'm tired of hearing LittleBrother(11)'s unholy fucking shriek when BB is pestering him. I'd be perfectly okay with it if LB took a baseball bat to BB's legs. I think that would help balance the power struggle that is going on. I.Am.Not.Kidding. I'm tired of backtalk. When I tell you do do something - just fucking do it. Or if I'm telling to not do something - then knock it off. I don't want to hear your justification as to why you are doing what you are doing.

When I'm not at work or doing something pertaining to the boys (this would be from the hours of 8 a.m. to 1 p.m. on Tuesday and Wednesday), then I am at home doing nothing. Absofuckinglutely, nothing. Yes, Sweety, I know the house is cluttered. But I want to take these few hours when I am alone to just be the fuck alone and not deal with anything. I'll tidy the house when the boys get home because I use housecleaning as an excuse to not come running every time LB yells my name because his brother is bugging him. I am horrible and I don't care.

My weight is a sticky issue on the home front too. And sex. And intimacy. I look like a fucking sweet potato so I don't want to be touched. And I don't want to touch Sweety because you can't touch him without his weenie getting hard and I don't want to fuss with that. Tomorrow, I hop back on the NutriSystem diet. I did really good when I was on it but have been so lazy that I don't want to bother with packing my lunches. And now I have gained back almost all of the weight that I lost last summer. Woot...Go me.

Financial infidelity. That's one I'm working on too. I have managed to amass (again) a huge credit card debt because I am a fucking idiot. I actually added it all up this morning and still feel queasy. I am done using my cards but I have a deep hole to dig myself out of. And the funny thing is that I have next to nothing to show for it. I didn't buy a lot of stuff to keep. Sweety said I'm the only person he knows who is paying off a cheeseburger that they bought 3 years ago on a credit card.

Heh, I just passed on a piece of wisdom. LB comes up to me with this Christmas tree shaped figurine and asks which end would hurt the most.

For hitting or stabbing?

Hitting.

Turn it around and hit with the base of the tree. If you want to stab someone, use the end with the star. You've gotta know how to use your weapon.

Yeah! *nodding head up-and-down*

Like, if you have a gun with bullets - then shoot the enemy. If you're out of ammo then use the gun as a club.

I'm going to pack up our Christmas decorations now before they are used in some violent domestic dispute.

A Flaming Twat Wad's Confession

I'm kind of at a loss right now for blog fodder so I'm going to tell you about something that happened when I was a teenager. Amy's post, so eloquently titled Flaming Twat Wads (ha! twat wads!), reminded me of this.

When I was in the 10th grade, a kid who was a Senior at a different school asked me to go to his prom and I agreed. Went out and got the dress and got all ready for the night. (as you can see, I wasn't the frilliest of girls)

Well, I grew up in the middle of nowhere and the schools would rent a nice room at towns an hour or so away to host the proms. It was rarely held in the high school gymnasium and this prom was no exception.

The guy pulls up in my driveway to pick me up and as I'm getting ready to get in the car my Dad asks where we are going. When he finds out that we'll be driving an hour to get there - he doesn't let me go! Can you believe that? He knew I was going to the prom with this kid and I assumed that he knew it wouldn't be held close by but I was wrong. The embarassment I felt as the guy got back in his car with his little corsage box was tree-men-dous. I still cringe a little when I think of the look on the guy's face when my Dad said that I couldn't go.

Luckily, a friend that lived in another town was having a prom the same night and it was being held in his high school's gym so I went to his. The prom dress wasn't wasted.

Years later, I told my Dad that he would have been better off letting me go the prom an hour away because that guy didn't drink and I ended up getting plastered at the prom I did go to. Take that, Dad!

Politically Incorrect Confession

My new pet peeve:

When I walk up to talk to my supervisor at work and she and the other supervisor she's talking to start yammering in Spanish and pretend that I'm not there. That pisses me off. It is rude.

I need to learn Spanish.

For the record, this has happened to other people on the team too and it pisses them off even though they are Hispanic also. They are going to complain about it. I'm glad. If I were to complain it would be twisted around to say that I'm racist.

Sweet, tiny, unemployed baby Jesus...I wish I didn't have to go to work today.

Make Up Your Own Title

BigBrother's(13) social studies project was done today. Sweety busied himself doing things outside while I supervised the project. The point of his project was whether or not it was a good idea to drop the atomic bombs on Japan. I set him loose with things to read about it and let him come up with his own decision. His decision was that it was a good idea because less people were killed in Japan than the number of U.S. soldiers that were projected to die if the war continued. Now, I don't agree with it, (Because I figure that soldiers sign up for war but little Japanese kids on their way to school did not. And if you think I am unpatriotic then you can move on.) but I decided to keep my opinions to myself and let him do the project how he wants to. I saw a documentary awhile back that was interviewing people that survived the bombings and I'm going to find it and let him watch it.

To celebrate the end of the project, I took a really hot bath with lots of fizzy stuff in the water to make me soft and built a big gin and ice. I feel much more relaxed now than I did a few hours ago. I am disturbed by the amount of shit left floating in my glass after the ice melted though. Our water is disgusting. Ew.

Has anyone out there that has read the story seen I Am Legend? Did you like it or did it suck ass? I've read the story probably a dozen times and have a certain idea in my head of how it goes and am afraid that watching the movie will ruin it for me. LittleBrother(10) has decided that he wants to see the movie though, so I am letting him read my dog-eared copy of the the book first. After he reads it, we're going to make a day of going to eat and watching the movie. Even though I'm not too keen on seeing the movie, I'm all for anything that will get him interested enough to read a book.

You know those tubes you put your money in when you go to a bank drive through? Sweety is dying to stick Chi Chi in one and send her rocketing into the bank. I will not allow it. I'm afraid she might have a heart attack. Maybe if she were a young pup...but definitely not now. Goddamn, I love that little dog.

And Tiny and Stinky. I love them too. But I'm loving Chi Chi extra hard since she is so damn old. I am sure you understand.

Kat is having a contest to give away a $25 Bed, Bath & Beyond gift card. If you're a fan of the place, stop by and enter! All you have to do is leave your email address. Hey, if you're NOT a fan of BB&B, go ahead and enter and if you win, you can send it to me! Heh. That's where we got our new dishes and if I get lucky and win the gift card, I'll go get another set. You know, just in case I ever decide to cook dinner for twelve. Ha! Actually, it would be nice to have another set so I don't freak out when one of the set we have gets broken. Because that sort of thing is inevitable.

Did I ever tell you about LB breaking one of my Grandma's dishes? I don't think I did and I'm too drunk lazy to check in the archives. Before Grandma died, she asked me and my sister what we wanted of hers and the only things we asked for were dishes. Not fancy-schmancy dishes either. Just the plain dishes that we'd eaten on at her house when we were kids. At Thanksgiving the year after she died, I decided to let the kids eat off of her dishes. And LittleBrother promptly dropped his on the floor on accident. The damn green beans were still steaming on his plate. The only thing that saved him was that it was a holiday and I thought it would be in poor form to freak out and ruin Thanksgiving for him so I acted like it was no big deal. Then I went into the bathroom and screamed into a towel. I found a website once where you could find discontinued dishes if you needed one or two to fill out your set and I need to go back and order one.

I have gone on long enough and my glass is empty.

Happy Thursday!

I don't like to have the sunroof open because I am afraid of flipping over in the car and having my head scrubbed off like a pencil eraser. I put my fears aside after the niece and I had our nails done last week. She was in a hurry to get them dry.



Happy Half Nekkid Thursday!

No Need For A Stinking Title

First off, let me apologize for not responding to the comments in the previous post. I was busy with the niece til she left Saturday and then we were away for the weekend. And yesterday Sweety came home way early (5 hours!) so I didn't have time to peck away on the computer. I've had things that I wanted to blog about, but then I see those comments and think, "I must reply to those first!". Then I freak out and turn off the computer. So, forgive me for the non-response. It won't happen again. At least not on a regular basis. (Don't worry Mike, I'm not going to go all Doocey.)

Secondly, the hair being poked in the ears? I did try it and I must admit that my niece is right. It is a very interesting feeling. If you have head hair that will reach into your ears, I recommend it.

And thirdly, please do not send me an email letting me know that you just whacked off to my photos. I don't think it's weird that you'd do that to them (because I am cute as hell) but it is rude to let me know about it. I don't like that.

Speaking of photos...

I wonder why people are showing up here after doing a search for this photo of Chi Chi? Is my little long-tongued dog on her way to internet superstardom?

Sweety's grandfather died a week ago this past Thursday and we went to his grandmother's house this weekend. (I'd only met her once before and didn't realize when I met her previously that she has Alzheimer's. I just thought she was a touch looney and said something to Sweety about it later. That's when he informed me. Gee, it would have been nice to have that tidbit of information before the visit!) Chi Chi was with us and she was a good conversation piece for me and Grandmother. She couldn't get over what a sweet little face Chi Chi has or Chi Chi's age. I've noticed that whenever I tell people she's 15 that the first thing they say is, "In dog years or people years?". When I tell them people years, they quickly multiply it by 7 to get her dog year age.

It had been decided that Sweety's sister was going to take her grandparents fish tank home with her but Grandmother had forgotten about it and wanted to know why the hell was her fish tank being taken away. I felt really bad for her. I think that nothing should have been removed from her house til she moved out. (She's going to live with her son, Sweety's dad.) But it's not my family so I kept my yap shut and just hid in the bathroom for awhile. Thankfully, the fish tank was the only item carted away.

I'm thinking of getting a pistol that fires glow-in-the-dark ping pong balls. Tiny Dog has become a huge nuisance at night. Always crying to get up in the bed. (I deserve a full night's sleep, dammit!) I thought about getting a water gun to squirt her with but since we have wooden floors that was not the best idea. Surely, if she gets pegged a couple of times with glowing ping pong balls, she will get the hint and shut the fuck up and go to sleep in her little nest that I have so lovingly built for her. I could get up out of bed and smack around her with a newspaper but I'm trying to find a solution that will not require me getting out of bed.

Tiny Dog turned 3 on the 5th of this month. Maybe her previous bad behavior was a result of "the terrible twos"? Now that I think about that, I'll hold off on buying the piece to deal with her.

The 2nd was my 3 year blogiversary! Woo-hoo! If the blog were a kid, it would probably be potty trained and able to pick its own nose very thoroughly by this time. You know what I had decided to do about Novemberish? I was going to use blurb (after removing things where I referred to sex or called the COAEW a COAEW), and then print it out and hide it under my mattress and then dump this blog and start over somewhere else. But the fucking blurb software won't work for me. Isn't that about right? I'll definitely be here for another year. I can't stop and start a new one in the middle of the year. My OCD will not allow it.

Happy 2008!

For the first New Year's Day that I can recollect, I didn't wake up with a hangover. I didn't drink any alcohol on New Year's Eve and I'm okay with that. Usually, New Year's Eve has been a time to get totally plastered but it was so much nicer to hang out with my niece.

The niece and I went to The Land Of The Mouse yesterday. We spent many hours waiting in line to ride different rides and got to see the whole theme park lit up with Christmas lights. She proclaimed to me a few times, "This is the best day of my life!" On the way home from the park, we decided that we would go get snack foods and play cards while watching the best movie ever (Nacho Libre) and just stay up til we passed out. We also stopped and got a couple of big fireworks to set off. Sylvie(8) was beside herself with excitement. After her bath she told me that she was going to put her party pajamas on. And what goes best with party pajamas? The pirate gear that you bought at The Happiest Place On Earth.




She has a whole crazy little song and dance routine that she made up. She tosses her hat off at the end. It tickles me that out of all of the princess crap that she could have purchased at the park that she chose pirate stuff.

Oh! She gave me proof day before yesterday that freaking crazy runs in my family. When we were in line waiting to get on rides, I noticed that she kept digging at her ears. She'd put some new earrings in the day before and I thought maybe they were bugging her. I finally ask her if she has an earache or what. She explains to me that she is cramming the hair on her head into her ears as far as it will go because it feels nice and scratchy when you pull the hair out slowly. Oooookay...Little nutball.