Best Christmas Present *EVER*

My Mother-In-Law knows me well! Leatherface! The action figure! Complete with chainsaw and armadillo! LOL!

Christmastime at Crazydogmama's

We are all ready. Presents are wrapped, dogs are washed and wearing their jingle bells, camera batteries are charged. We ate massive amounts of lasagna for dinner and watched "A Christmas Story", "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer", and all the "Friends" Christmas episodes. Ahhh. Tomorrow starts our celebrating. We are going to my in-law's house for Christmas Eve to open presents and have dinner with my stepson, and then we're spending Christmas morning and Christmas dinner with my parents. I will be exhausted. This is my first Christmas in a long time without smoking, and I'm really hoping my stress level stabilizes. If not, alcohol and Lexapro will have to do. I took a picture of our tree, and the dogs with their bells on. Have a Holly Jolly Christmas y'all!

An Explanation, a Thank You, and an Ode to My Butt-Warmer

Oh Butt-warmer, how much do I love thee? Let me count the ways. While snot is flying, rain is pouring, and traffic reports are blaring, you warm my ass like no other. I love you so. You made it so I sang this morning, "Chestnuts Roasting on an Open Fire". I don't know how I can repay you for your kindness.

OK, back to sanity. I'm feeling better today, and my butt is happy. I want to thank all of my blog-readers for being so kind and I want to wish you all a VERY MERRY CHRISTMAS or HAPPY HANNUKKAH or whatever you celebrate! You have made me smile this week.

Now for explanations. What the hell was I talking about yesterday? Well, here it is. Life is short. Life is too short to waste on a bad mood, which is what I've been in what seems like, an eternity. There are lots of things I want to do in 2006, and yes one of them is to get back into shape, but more importantly, I want to appreciate what I have more. I have a nice home, I have a loving family, I have a great husband who, even though has been a booger this week, is truly a great man that I love with all my heart. I have many blessings that I take for granted, and I don't want to do that anymore. Jim and I had a long talk last night about the state of the world and the state of our hearts. He wrote me a love letter for Christmas. He was going to type it up all nice and put it in my stocking, but because I have been in such a funk, he decided to give it to me last night. It was so cool it made me cry. It was full of fond memories we share. He ended it with "You are my lobster." For those of you who are "Friends" fans, you'll know what that means.

Here's to all of you, may your New Year be awesome!

Love, CrazyDogMama and the Fur-Butts

Ch-Ch-Changes

I need to make some. Smoking was a start, now it's time for some big ones. I am not sure exactly what yet, but I know I'm tired of being depressed and angry all the time. Getting back in shape is definitely one of them, but some sacrifices will have to be made to get there, and it will take lots of hard work. There are people who may not like some of the changes I will make, but OH WELL. Quitting the restaurant job and getting a new day job was a good change for me in 2005, but I need to make better use of the extra time I now have. This past week has been a shitty one for me, on many levels, but the pity-pot is getting pretty darn old. I want to smash it to pieces. Look out, people, here comes CRAZYDOGMAMA!

Adding to the Christmas Joy

I have the freaking flu. It started last night, the metallic taste in my mouth, the surreal feeling, and the sneezing. This morning upon waking from the NyQuil induced coma, I had a fever. Lovely. I'm working from home today (sort of) and drowning myself in Top Ramen because I can't have chicken soup. (It makes me poop funny.) The dogs are happy because Mama is home. They are curled up by my feet here at the computer. I have 2 Kleenex boxes, 2 bottles of NyQuil, my Top Ramen and a big, stupid blanket around me. I just sneezed and got snot all over my laptop monitor. Oops. Nice. The phone is ringing off the hook, and I don't care. Damn solicitors. and bill collectors. Leave me alone, its Christmas, and I'm sick! I think maybe it's time for a nap.

A Little "Grinchy"

Apparently, I'm all Bah Humbug this year, which is VERY uncharacteristic of me. I'm usually singing Christmas songs at my desk driving everyone crazy. It could be that I'm completely broke, or that I don't feel good, or that I just quit smoking or, well, any number of things really. I'm just a little blue this year. Someone (no name on it) left me a little present on my desk this morning. It is wrapped pretty with little gold chocolate coins taped to it. Someone is trying to cheer me up. I'm opening it even though it says, "Hands off until Christmas". Oh, and by the way, if I hear ONE more radio report of someone getting pissed over the word "Christmas" I am going to find that person and scream CHRISTMAS! CHRISTMAS! CHRISTMAS! in their face for an hour while beating them with a tube of wrapping paper until they are unconscious. Fa-la-la.

It's a box of little Almond Roca Balls! How sweet! I don't hide my emotions very well. In fact, I am quite dramatic about everything. Shocker. I'll try to be better; I promise. I'll wish everyone a very Merry Christmas in between crying spells.

Um, Hello?

OK, none of you fuckers have commented on my new AWESOME CrazyDogMama banner. A friend of mine helped me with it because I am html-challenged. It looks 'clear' to me on my work computer, but fuzzy on my home computer. Let me know what you see and tell me how pretty. Or not.

I have nothing to wear.

Company Christmas party tonight. A dinner cruise with an open deck. Its 24 degrees outside, Jim has bronchitis and I have nothing to wear, which is the real issue. It is an open bar with no drink limit. Another problem.

Endearing or Gross?

Every morning when I step out of the shower, there Louie is, tongue ready to lick my legs. I don't know whether he is thirsty, if bath water tastes yummy or if he has just missed me during that long 20 minutes. It is a true mystery. Nevertheless, he does it. Every time. At first, I thought EWW! Dog saliva on my newly washed skin! But now, I look forward to it. He always comes running in as soon as I shut the water off. Don't judge me.

New Experiences

Let me tell you, with no nicotine, and very little caffeine in my system, things look different and feel different. I can breathe, but I can't think. I have been staring at my blank blogger screen for 10 minutes now and I just can't get my fingers to move. Work is slow right now and jamming a pen into my eye is starting to sound like a viable option. I don't want to talk to anyone in particular, but I want to talk. I want to ramble. About nothing, and everything. I don't feel like myself, but for the first time in a long time I have clarity. CLARITY.

Definition: clarity, lucidity, pellucidity, clearness, limpidity - free from obscurity and easy to understand; the comprehensibility of clear expression.

That really doesn't sound like me, does it?

I had no 'plan' to quit smoking, I just did it. I had wanted to do it for a long time, and had thought about it quite a bit, but there was no, "I am going to quit on such-and-such day." I just thought to myself, "I don't want these anymore" at 5 pm on the commute home one day last week. I smoked for 15 years. It was defining on some level. Who the hell AM I now? Holy crap, I am one of those nonsmoker people.

It's been a whole week and 2 days.

Since I've had one of these. It's very hard.

Saturday Morning at Crazydogmama's

We woke up to surprise snow. Watch out for the yellow spots! I took a picture of my cheesy-eggs, maple bacon, and toast with real butter, because who eats healthy when it snows? Me wants BACON.

Why I should not be allowed to drive with a camera.

I finally got my snow, but it didn't stick around for long.

As the famous "Dooce" once said, "Deck the Motherfucking Halls"

We didn't get any snow. It's all rain. I'm very disappointed. I stayed up late like a 4-year-old, waiting for the snow, that would never come. Damn weatherman. I had the hot chocolate ready and everything, with little marshmallows in it. I hurt my back AGAIN. I have no money. Don't talk to me today. I'm cranky.

Brrrr

It was 24 degrees outside this morning. This is highly unusual for us in November, AND there is a chance of snow tonight! I love the snow! (As long as it doesn't inconvenience me.) I'm sitting here eating a nice warm bowl of oatmeal while trying to remember that the long weekend is over, and I need to work now. Poo. I think I was asleep more than I was awake on Saturday and Sunday, but here comes Monday and it feels like I need toothpicks to keep my eyelids open. Go figure.

Important Question

How do you gracefully remove potato chip crumbs from your bra when the bathroom is occupied?

Answer: You do not. There is no dignified way to reach down into your bra and remove tiny barbecued potato chip crumbs in public. I speak from experience.

Garage Poker

Once upon a time, it was a boring Friday night at CrazyDogMama's house. She and her husband are so pitiful that they decide to play Poker (in the famous garage) with just each other because they apparently have no friends. What was even more pitiful was that CrazyDogMama lost and had to do the dishes. ANYWAY, I have to tell you that Poker is worse than frigging Monopoly. It takes FOREVER. I think we went through 3 packs of cigarettes and a case of beer. You know it's bad when you start betting the black chips when all you have in your hand is a pair of 2's, just to speed things along.

I've been learning "Texas Holdem" too, which is cool, except that I keep forgetting to flip over the cards when I'm dealing and keep WANTING to flip over the cards when I'm NOT dealing. (That could be the beer, though.) Yeah, it's looking like Saturday night will be CrazyDogMama's revenge. I wonder what will be at stake tonight.

100 Things

If you follow my Blog, you may already know some of this stuff, but read it anyways because what better way could you spend your time?

1. I had REALLY crooked buck teeth when I was young. (Got braces)
2. I will not eat meatloaf. Period. Not even yours.
3. I am geographically challenged.
4. The movie “Prophecy” scared the SHIT out me when I was young.
5. I like to smell my dogs; it is a comforting smell.
6. I hate (and I mean HATE) it when someone spells ‘lose’ with two O’s as “loose”. It really, really bugs me, people.
7. Since we have been together (12 years now) I have not been apart from my husband for more than 5 days, and only once was I gone 5 days.
8. I like meat served rare.
9. I don’t like old movies. (Black & White)
10. I don’t think infants are cute. Sorry.
11. I am allergic to cats, wasps and Sulfa.
12. I have worn Estee Lauder cosmetics since I was 16.
13. I have jumped out of an airplane seven times.
14. I still can’t drink Bourbon. (Not since I was 16, anyway.)
15. I have had food poisoning 3 times, from Mayonnaise on a Subway sandwich, from sausage on a "Little Caesar's" pizza, and from grocery store sushi.
16. I got the chicken pox when I was 21.
17. I hardly had anything to do with planning my own wedding. My bridesmaids did most of it for me.
18. I hate thong underwear.
19. I love thunderstorms. I made my husband turn the TV off the other day so I could listen to one.
20. My favorite vegetables are onions, peppers, squash and asparagus.
21. My favorite herb is cilantro.
22. I hate creamed corn, peas, water chestnuts and most kinds of mushrooms.
23. My blood type is B+.
24. I was born on a Friday.
25. I have a bachelor’s degree from the University of Washington.
26. The song "Worlds Apart" by "Jars of Clay" makes me cry EVERY. TIME. I. LISTEN. TO. IT.
27. I don’t mind the rain and I know how to drive in the snow.
28. The colors in the front room of my house are red, orange and purple.
29. I would rather email than talk on the phone.
30. All my DVDs are in alphabetical order.
31. I can gross anyone out. Guaranteed.
32. I love theme and amusement parks.
33. I don’t really like popcorn, but I’ll eat my husband’s when I’m at the movies.
34. I hate arrogance. I cannot stay friends with someone arrogant.
35. I hate the month of February.
36. I could eat (good) Italian food every day.
37. I am a total klutz.
38. I don’t like fruit by itself. It has to be in or with something else.
39. I’m claustrophobic and have arachnophobia.
40. I only make the bed when company is coming over.
41. I have to wash my bath towel after every use. It's just a thing with me.
42. If I don’t get AT LEAST 8 hours of sleep, just forget it.
43. I love fuzzy martinis.
43. My favorite "Atari" game was "Adventure".
44. Don’t put nuts in my dessert.
45. My favorite flowers are Tulips and Stargazer Lilies.
46. I hate riding a regular bike, but I love motorcycles.
47. I love 70’s music.
48. When I laugh really hard, tears roll down my cheeks uncontrollably.
49. I couldn’t belch (loud) until I was 25.
50. I was in a Spelling Bee once. I lost.
51. I drink milk with pizza.
52. I saw "Raiders of the Lost Ark" in the theatre 7 times.
53. I am always pulling my underwear out of my butt.
54. I like the smell of gasoline.
55. I use Mentadent toothpaste.
56. I use the ring that my cell phone came with. I am not going to change it.
57. I don’t know how to sew.
58. I hate musicals.
59. My favorite Dean Koontz book is a toss-up between "Intensity" and "Watchers".
60. I don’t wear earrings very often, although I have tons of them.
61. I can sleep anytime, anywhere, unless I have insomnia.
62. I like to cook.
63. I don’t like to garden.
64. My favorite time of year is the Fall.
65. I love Christmastime.
66. I learned how to play poker last summer.
67. I still don’t know how to play checkers.
68. I made up a game called “Keep off the Floor” when I was little. It was like ‘Blind Man’s Bluff” except you had to crawl around on the furniture and never touch the floor. I always got everyone in trouble playing it.
69. “The Brave Little Toaster” is the best cartoon ever made.
70. I like to crack my knuckles.
71. I hate shopping for clothes.
72. I put Tabasco on everything.
73. I don’t use hairspray anymore. In the 80’s, though, I went through a can a week.
74. I like having long fingernails.
75. I really want to visit Santorini, Greece.
76. I used to sleepwalk.
77. I talk in my sleep.
78. I remember my dreams every night.
79. I can’t put eye drops in my eyes.
80. I sweat A LOT. ALL THE TIME. I hate it.
81. I hate dirty or stained carpeting. I am always obsessing about my carpet.
82. The fitted sheet on my bed is always messed up or coming off. I never fix it.
83. I cannot sleep with more than one pillow.
84. I know all the words to "Take it Easy" by the Eagles, and it is uncanny how much I sound like Axel Rose when I’m singing "Sweet Child ‘O Mine".
85. I really must have croutons on my salad.
86. I take my wedding ring off at night, so it won’t rip the bed sheets, and often times I forget to put it back on in the morning. People always ask me about it and I say, “Sometimes I’m married, sometimes I’m not.” They don’t know what to say to that.
87. My husband is a war veteran.
88. I use the butt-warmer button in my car in the summertime.
89. I have to have the air-conditioning on in my bedroom every night. Even if it 2 degrees outside.
90. When I am sitting, I bounce/jiggle my right leg up and down continuously like a jackhammer. It drives everyone nuts. I can’t help it.
91. I used to have a really cute squeaky girl-sneeze; now it is just loud, obnoxious and messy. My husband really misses my cute sneezes.
92. I don’t like “The Beatles”.
93. I don’t like “Elvis”.
94. I am usually always wearing something black.
95. I can’t keep lipstick on, I subconsciously lick it off within 5 minutes.
96. If I am trying to find an address when driving, I can’t have the radio on because it is too distracting.
97. I hate wearing a seatbelt.
98. When I talk on my cell phone too long, my hand/arm goes numb.
99. I wear perfume every day.
100. I have one tattoo.

Flying in a Cessna

I got to go on a plane ride yesterday on my lunch break! One of the engineers I work with is a pilot, and he takes turns giving us all rides, and it was my turn today. So fun! First time I've been in a Cessna without jumping out of it. LOL! In the photos you'll see Seattle and Lake Washington.

Halloween 2005

Theme: Drunken Disco Bliss of the 70’s. Don’t even ask, Jim was dressed up as Captain Spaulding from “House of 1000 Corpses”. (Well, SHIT the bed!) He rationalized that the movie plot took place in the 70’s, so it was an allowed costume at the 70’s-themed party. I especially liked the “Bob Ross Happy Trees” T-shirt. Later in the evening, Jim decided to wear my wig. He makes a lovely blonde, no? It was frightening.

Baby Boom

Everyone seems to be having babies right now. Bloggers, neighbors, celebrities, everyone! It's like nature is on a baby binge. I don't know whether to congratulate you all or send my condolences. I know, I know, a baby is a gift from God, but STILL. Its freaking me out! Everywhere I look there are baby heads! I must tell you, though, that I had sympathy-heaves for you this morning. I woke up and had dry heaves for like, an HOUR. No, I'm not pregnant, don't go there.

Angry CrazyDogMama

So, what the hell is this new trend (that makes me want to chain them up and throw them in my crawlspace) where older kids come to my door on Halloween wanting candy WITHOUT A FUCKING COSTUME ON? They don't even say "Trick or Treat"! People are saying that if you don't comply (give them candy anyways) then your house or car will get vandalized, or some such shit. REALLY? BRING IT. I'm going to stay up on my roof all night with a pellet gun and pick off the first motherfucker who comes near my house.

Lou-Dog

I love him so much. He is so damn cute.

The Best Invention Since Bacardi

The "Tide to Go" pen. That's right, people. That new little stain remover pen that, in all its glory, has become a staple for CrazyDogMama's purse. Now I can pretend I'm normal and walk around with no food stains on my boobs! It's so wonderful! I'm worried about my co-workers, though, they won't be able to make fun of me every day. Well, actually, I'm sure they'll think of something. It's certainly not that difficult.

Haunted House and Lack of Caffeine

I feel like I crawled to work this morning. I refrained from stopping by my favorite little coffee stand today because I've just been too out of control with it. (What was I thinking?) I'm having oatmeal and a protein shake instead. But I'm dying from no caffeine. My weekend ending up being way busier than I thought it was going to be, so I am a total zombie this morning. I didn't get a damn thing done I wanted to get done, and its leg/back day today at the gym. That means squats, lunges and dead lifts. I'm a little whiny about that, but what's new.

Jim took Billy to a haunted house this weekend, and I so wish I could have been there to see those two scream like girls. (I was having a girl's night out.) Anyway, the house apparently had different rooms with different movie themes. One room was "The Exorcism of Emily Rose", one room was the little girl from "Poltergeist" touching a TV, one room was a mad doctor cutting some woman to pieces, one room was from "Saw" with two men chained up next to a dead body, and finally there was an actual well that had the girl from "The Ring" crawling out of it. All through the house people were grabbing at them and some guy was running around with a chainsaw. What fun I missed!

I'm sorry, but it was funny.

Oh. My. God. Did anyone see the new episode of Southpark last night? I laughed so hard my stomach hurt. I suppose it really isn't funny, but yet it was.

Dude standing on top of his house in the flood:
"Hellooo? Anybody? We would like to be rescued now, please. Any day now."

Jim and I must have rewound the TiVo like, 50 times. Then, the end. That's when I spewed Pepsi out of my nose. I know, I'm probably going to hell.

Wilma, Surface, and the Shambles That is My Kitchen

First things first. I read this morning that Hurricane Wilma is not only close to breaking records because we are on "W" in the alphabet already and hurricane season isn't even over yet, but it is actually the strongest hurricane on record now with sustaining winds at 175mph, AND it went from 75mph winds to 175mph winds OVERNIGHT. What do you bet they will end up having to reclassify this at a Category 6 hurricane soon?

Surface. Why do I like that sappy-ass show? I was so excited when little Nimrod tapped on Miles' bedroom window, then crawled in bed with him. What I wouldn't give to have a little sea monster crawl in bed with me.

And finally, my poor kitchen. Last night, hubby and I decided that we wanted Thanksgiving food. We realize we will be making all of it again in a month, but we wanted it now. So, we made it. Every single dish I own is somewhere dirty in the kitchen. On the stove, in the sink (stacked ever-so-carefully, mind you) on the table, EVERYWHERE. Burnt marshmallow dishes. Gravy spills. Little fragments of stuffing everywhere. I am not sure when we will be cleaning it up. Maybe never. Maybe we will buy new dishes. It is so utterly disgusting. But it was mighty tasty.

MEH.

I am just not happy today. We took poor Magadog into the vet last night, and what do you know? She has "Dry Eye", and some sort of major infection. $365 later, I'm in a pissy mood. The poor little thing is just having one issue after the other and I'm going bankrupt. I woke up so tired and depressed. Other than the vet trip, I'm not really sure why. I think I need a vacation or something. I haven't spoken to anyone yet today (physically), it's been more like, "Hello internet, how are you?"

Its dark and dreary outside, usually the kind of day I like, but not today. We aren't even having a Halloween party this year because it's on a Monday, and everyone seems busy the weekend before. No haunted garage this year. I just want to go home and sleep. I think maybe I will.

Krusty McEyeballs & Technotronic

Monday morning, time to update my iPod for the work week. I have added the song "Tough" from "Technotronic". Don't laugh now, save it for when I tell you I used to teach aerobics in college, and I used this song. For those of you have good musical taste and don't know what the hell I'm talking about, that song is from the "Pump up the Jam" album. Remember that song? Yeah. I'm also fighting with my iPod because iTunes isn't doing what it is supposed to do. I have ZERO patience, and my coworkers are staying clear until I figure it out. (We all share our music and I'm nervous because I also uploaded an "Eminem" song and AC/DC's "Dirty Deeds".)

I'm also taking Mags to the vet AGAIN today. Criminy. That dog is such a problem child. Her little eyeballs are all crusty and goopy. We have been calling her Krusty McEyeballs. No wonder I never have any money.

The CrazyDogMama Combo

I have often wondered if my favorite pizza joint would add my pizza combo to their menu. It IS a small town. "The CrazyDogMama Combo" would include pepperoni, green pepper, jalapeño and pineapple; as-is, no substitutions. (Yes, pineapple, shut UP.) It is just like me, sweet and spicy. Ha! That way, I could just call up and say, "Could I get the CrazyDogMama Combo delivered please?" It would save so much time. My husband likes regular combos, like pepperoni, sausage, mushroom and olive. Bah! The up side is I always have a whole pizza to myself.

With the exception of his bad taste in pizza, my husband is the SHIT. This morning as I was leaving the house, he handed me a CD that he made for me. (Aww.) The cool thing about it is, the first song on it was "Eve of Destruction" by Barry McGuire. HOW SO VERY APPROPRIATE FOR ME! Other songs included "The Road to Hell" by Chris Rea, "Everybody Knows" by Leonard Cohen and "Song to the Siren" by "This Mortal Coil". It is *so sweet* how my husband has embraced my insanity.

They're coming to get me.

Last night my husband and I were having a cigarette in the garage when we hear a very low flying helicopter. We didn't think too much of it at first since we live right next to a small airfield, but then we heard it again. We peaked our heads outside and lo and behold, there was a black helicopter hovering and circling our little housing development. Again, and again, and again. We saw other neighbors poke their heads out, too.

Now, you must understand, the conspiracy theorist in me was totally going bananas at this point. I couldn't find anything about it coming off the internet wire, and Jim wouldn't let me call anyone to find out what it was. We figured there wasn't a looney on the loose because the helicopter wasn't shining any lights around or anything. I still have no idea what the hell, and it is BUGGING. THE. SHIT. OUT. OF. ME. There is probably some rational explanation, but those are always famous last words, right?

New Phrases

Upon reading Diablo Cody's new post at "The Pussy Ranch", I have discovered some rather distasteful phrases THAT. I. LOVE. and here they are:

"...a vile whore who'd emerged from Satan's colon."

"...big sweater muffins." (Referring here to big boobs.)

ROFLMAO!

Bark-Fest 2005

At approximately 5 am this morning, all hell broke loose. Maggie sleeps with me every night, all cuddled up next to my butt, and the first time my alarm goes off, she barely lifts her head because she knows I will be hitting the snooze about 16 more times before I haul my ass out of bed. Louie was banned from the bed a few months ago because he likes to pee and act like a jerk if you so much as get a toe near him when he is sleeping. Well, the idiot that I am, decided to slowly give Louie back his bedroom privileges because I missed his furry little butt. It was working out OK until this morning.

For some reason, when my alarm went off the first time, Louie completely lost his mind. He jumped straight up, barked his head off, and when I rolled over to bash the snooze button, he leaped off the bed and started barking LOUDER, which in turn sent Maggie into a tizzy. I screamed for them to shut up about 400 times to no avail. It was like they were barking at each other to shut up. They WOULD NOT STOP. 20 minutes went by, and they were still barking as if someone was in the house trying to kill us. (Although they probably wouldn't bark for THAT.) I gave up and put the covers over my head. I forgot about my husband who had fallen asleep in his recliner in the front room.

All of a sudden, my bedroom door FLEW open, and the wrath of Jim began. First, he yelled at the dogs and sent them to their crates. When daddy speaks, everyone listens. I actually wanted to go into a crate. THEN, he yelled at me and wanted to know why I was letting them bark. Peeking my head out from under the warm covers, I managed a very innocent "I tried but they wouldn't stop". I knew it was lame. Jim retorted with "WHY DIDN'T YOU GET YOUR LAZY ASS UP AND PUT THEM IN THEIR CRATES?" Silence. Then I said, "because it is too cold". I could feel his eyes on me boring through me like laser beams. "Sorry." I'm thinking maybe I'll make him a nice dinner tonight so that he won't divorce me or barbecue the dogs.

Believe me yet?

Sumatra earthquake killing 250,000 people, Hurricane Katrina, Hurricane Rita, Pakistan earthquake, bird flu epidemic preparation, the "Ramadan Offensive" terrorist threat. (Ramadan is Oct 4th through Nov. 2) I don't know about you, but when I was growing up, the news just wasn't this scary, you know?

I'm all upset.

I just checked my "who links to me" statistics and a bunch of you who used to link me are not anymore and I'm all upset and wondering why. Now, the optimistic side of me is thinking that some people must have a bandwidth problem, or whatever you call it, and they have to minimize their links and it's not personal. However, the realistic and very cynical side of me is thinking, "They hate me, I use the word "motherfucker" too often, I'm boring, I scare people with my earthquake rambles and I have to quit this blogging thing because it is upsetting my self-esteem."

Ok, maybe that is the psychopathic, need-to-take-your-meds-now side of me, but still. IT COULD BE TRUE. The weird thing is, I have received no hate-mail recently and my stats for # of visits is on the increase. Maybe I'm overreacting. Nah. I never do that. Hey, do me a favor. Link to www.crazydogmama.blogspot.com so that I can report to my therapist that all is well.

Why I am a piss crank today.

1. The doggie urine cleaner I bought yesterday for 8 bucks exploded in my new SUV.
2. I was charged for 2 cases of Diet Coke at Costco instead of 1 (losing another 8 bucks), and there is not a FUCKING THING I CAN DO ABOUT IT.
3. My hair is all twirly and out of control.
4. I spilled olive oil on my shirt and can't get it out, and I'm walking around the office today looking like I'm lactating.
5. It's only Wednesday.
6. I'm not sick, but I am choking on my snot, nonetheless.
7. I'm sweating even though it is 50 degrees out today.
8. My socks don't match.
9. My pants are too long.
10. I'm broke until the 14th.

New reasons to lay on the couch.

"Surface", "Invasion", "Supernatural", "Threshold", "My Name is Earl" and "The Ghostwhisperer". CrazyDogMama is in DVR heaven. I *really* like Surface and Invasion. You see, this is a big deal because I rarely watch regular TV. Usually, you find me on the internet with my eyes glazed over or sleeping. I HATE, let me repeat H-A-T-E reality shows, although I've been known to watch "The Biggest Loser" on occasion. I tend to fast forward through most of the competition stuff and the whining & complaining, though. I just don't give a shit if they get to talk to their family or if they are having a mental breakdown. Suzy downing the 48 milkshakes was cool, however, I totally wanted to hi-five her.

Can anyone say sugar high?

The following is what has been sucked into my face today, much like the scene in "Poltergeist" where the big "throat" is sucking everything into it from the bedroom:

1. Huge triple-shot iced mocha with whip. Not nonfat. (Caffeine IS a food group, you know.)
2. Powdered donut with raspberry filling. (Fruit!)
3. Large glass of milk (Protein!)
4. Huge piece of birthday cake. (Not my birthday, but I'm chalking this up to a carb serving.)

It is only 11 am. Time for lunch!

I will be severely crashing around 2 pm. I am not putting my food into "Fitday" today. We're just going to pretend this day never happened, K?

TAKE ME TO YOUR LEADER

Hurricane Rita

Pray for Texas and Louisiana, people. This isn't looking good. 170 mph winds? Yikes! Has anyone spoken to Yogagirl? I think she is in Houston or somewhere close to it but is on vacation right now. Keep her in your thoughts and prayers. I don't know about the rest of you. Divaquest, you alright? You are all on my mind. I love my peeps!

Absent

I've been absent because Maggie's ass exploded, and I fell off a ladder and smashed my head on the coffee table. No shit, people.

Last week, my poor little Magadog was sliding her butt on the floor, so I knew it was time to express her anal glands. So, I picked her up and went to do just that. What I didn't know was that she had an infection and when I went to squeeze her ass, it burst. In the wrong spot. I was totally freaked and started yelling and crying, and Jim started yelling, "What did you do to the DOG?" (Which did not help.)  There was blood and panicking by the humans and an actual look of relief on Maggie's face. After a nice trip to the vet with penicillin shots, antibiotics and a trendy little cone for Maggie's head, I finally relaxed. I felt really guilty, though, even after the vet assured me that I was just trying to help her. I have convinced myself that I am the "WorstDogmamaEver". I did receive my punishment, however.

After much warning from my husband to stay off of the ladder due to my extreme clumsiness and lack of balance, I did it anyway and fell backward and smacked my head on the coffee table. Ow. It hurt like a motherfucker, and I'm surprised I'm alive. That is all I have to say about that. I do have some cute pictures of Maggie in her cone. (I call her "Funnel Face".)  I will post those soon.

The Best Reason for Getting Hardwood Floors

FYI: BOOM! = Doggy Face-Plant

Once we (and by "we" I mean Jim) finished the installation of the hardwood floor in the kitchen, the best part was not to enjoy the prettiness of our new floor, but to watch the dogs get used to it. We let the dogs out of the crates once done, and I really didn't need to turn on the TV at all that night. Maggie came racing into the kitchen and BOOM! Then Louie, BOOM! Then, slide and BOOM! After going potty in the rain: Clickity, clickity, BOOM! Slide, BOOM! Make the dogs do tricks for treats: Sit up, fall backwards, BOOM! Clickity-clackity, BOOM! (Complete with hysterical, evil laughter from humans.) Startle the dogs on purpose: Clickity-clackity, slide, BOOM! This is true revenge for all the pooping and peeing on my floor, you little fuckers!

This is not good.

I had a dream last night about finding skulls and bones of humans buried in someone's backyard. (Not mine.) I was of course freaked out about having this kind of dream and had to go to "dreammoods.com" to find out what it means. Here is the verdict:

Skull: To see a skull in your dream, symbolizes danger, evil and death. Alternatively, it represents the secrets of the mind. You may be keeping things hidden.

I'm thinking that maybe I watch too many horror movies. By the way, I really liked "The Exorcism of Emily Rose". Went to see it Friday night. It was a court room drama with flash backs. I thought it was well done, intelligent and thought-provoking. There were only a few disturbing images, which was nothing for me, not at all like the original "Exorcist". I like to follow real-life stories about these kinds of things, so I was giddy about doing research. The girl's real name is Anneliese Michel. Freaky little story.

Race Day

We went to what is called "Race Day" last Saturday. It is a bunch of Cairn Terrier owners in the Pacific Northwest who get together and "race" their doggies and other fun stuff like bobbing for hot dog pieces. It was a 2.5-hour road trip, and a confirmation that my dogs are truly retarded. Here is the photographic evidence:

#1, #2 Four dogs get stuffed into the boxes shown (like racehorses), then pelts are dangled in front of the little windows in the boxes, then the door is lifted up, and you watch the dogs chase the pelts that are being reeled with a fishing pole toward the finish line. That is the way it is SUPPOSED to work. What you see here is Louie, finally coming out of his box after the race is over. When the doors were lifted, the other 3 dogs burst from their boxes and took off running, but from box #2, there was just a big fat LOU-ASS sticking out. That's right, my dog was turned around BACKWARDS. I was laughing so hard that I couldn't breathe. When he finally figured out that the box was open, he turned around and trotted out with a "Hey, what's happening?" look on his clueless doggie face. He may as well have just taken a dump. Maggie, who is not as retarded, ran her way to second place. She is the one on the far right. What makes her semi-retarded is her sharp right turn at the finish line into the net. In full run.

#3 I thought for sure we'd clean-up in the hot dog contest since they usually suck the ceramic off their bowls every night trying to get the last crumb of kibble. Nope. My dogs apparently just like the taste of hot dog-flavored water. Couldn't get them to dunk their face under the water to get the hot dog piece. Sigh.

#4 Stick a fork in Louie, he's done.

#5 Oh, and for extra fun, we put in laminate flooring this weekend. See how pretty?

My awesome work, and the awful world.

My work gave us all iPods today! I don't have one, and been wanting one bad, so I am over the moon thrilled! We just hit a milestone, and instead of a t-shirt or a hat they gave us technology. HOW AWESOME IS THAT?

On the downside, I was very depressed watching the news last night. I can't imagine what it is like to be out of home, a job and to wonder if my friends and family are alive while watching my hometown be destroyed. I feel a little guilty opening my iPod box while I see people standing on top of their houses clutching their dogs for dear life. I think we should all do our part to help, I'm researching ways now. It could be us some day. As most of my readers know, I am not much of an optimist when it comes to the planetary changes we are starting to see. The West Coast needs to prepare for earthquakes and volcanic chaos, those on the East Coast more hurricanes, those in the middle, tornados, and for all of us, terrorism. I think it is just a matter of time before we see nuclear activity. I don't like this prognosis, mind you, not one bit, it's just that I have a bad feeling. I have had this feeling since 2003. A sense of urgency is the best way to describe it. Pray, people, pray. If you don't pray, START.

Who's the Boss?

Conversation between Jim and I last night:

Jim: "I'm going to have to kick your ass."

Me: "Yeah, like you could kick my ass."

Jim: "Stop trying to be Jane Wayne."

Me: "Then stop telling me you are going to kick my ass."

Jim: "Then stop yelling at me."

Me: "Then stop mumbling."

Jim: shakes head and walks away.

Ding! I win!

It's Time.

My dears, the time has come for me to stop with the iced mochas, the bread, the cheese and the TEN THOUSAND TORTILLAS I have been eating per week on my Mexican food binge. It's time to go back to six meals per day of lean meat, veggies and fruit with only water and black coffee to drink. It is also time to get my butt back to the gym 6 days a week instead 2 here, 1 there. I don't know why it has to be so damn difficult. But then again if it were easy, we would all have 6-pack abs. Anyway, wish me luck, I tend to get all crabby and whiny the first few weeks back on the program.

What's on my iPod.

CrazyDogMama's "Magamix" (Maggie, Magadog, Magamix, get it?)

1. Take it Easy - Eagles
2. Calling All Angels - Train
3. Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy - Big & Rich
4. Vertigo - U2
5. The Joker - Steve Miller
6. Crazy Love - Van Morrison
7. I Wanna Do it All - Teri Clark
8. We Are Family - Sister Sledge
9. When Love Comes to Town - U2
10. At Last - Etta James
11. Crazy - Seal
12. The Reason - Hoobastank
13. Orange Crush - R.E.M.
14. Losing Grip - Avril Lavigne
15. Its a Sin - Pet Shop Boys
16. Baker Street - Gerry Rafferty
17. Let Your Love Flow - Bellamy Brothers
18. Friends in Low Places - Garth Brookes

How is THAT for eclectic?

One ear up, one ear down.

Louie is very expressive with his ears. I wonder what 'one ear up, one ear down' means.

Memory Lane

Here I am circa 1990 or so, on a steady diet of "Munch 'ems", beer and cigarettes. I also look very confused. Gee, what a surprise.

Ezmerelda

Finally! A pic of Ezmerelda (my SUV)! I loves her, she's pretty and has a butt-warmer.

Brain Food

See, I told you ice cream was good for you!

My Precious

The company that is slowly conning me out of my retirement.

Fajitas!

Lunch! MMM, fajitas.

Where I live.

My home away from home, or basically where I live. This is where the blogging magic happens, people.

Dirty Mind

The whiteboard at work. We build robotic penises.

Don't Call Me Stupid.

That is my thing. Do not EVER call me stupid. (In a serious way, not like "Come on, stupid! Let's go!) You can call me ugly, fat, blonde, crazy, bitchy, sarcastic, whatever, just not stupid. GOT IT? I will pound on you. HARD. Until you are a quivering mass of pounded flesh. You could say that I will "get medieval on your ass". If you call me stupid electronically, I will pound you electronically. Or find you and pound you physically. I have my ways. and you know I could totally kick your ass with all that anger and adrenaline I've got going on. Plus, I drink enough caffeine to raise the dead.

Why, you ask? I don't know. It's just a thing with me. I see red, go berserk, flip-out. Now, I realize I'm not an Einstein over here or anything, but I have a college degree and all that blah, blah, blah. (Don't expect me to type complete sentences and use correct grammar in my blog, though. K?) It just really BUGS THE HELL OUT OF ME. Them are fightin' words.  It has only happened a few times in my life, but still, I'm just sayin'. Now that the entire world knows how to piss me off, I'm probably doomed.

Oh, and don't hurt my dogs. That, my friend, would be Armageddon for you.

(SIDENOTE: Out of the blue, ask one of your co-workers how to spell Armageddon and watch their reaction. LOL!)

I don't know squat.

So, yesterday when driving the hell-commute home, I found out that the 6-mile road to my house was closed due to a head-on collision. Neat. That means not getting home any time in the next century. I could have stopped for a bite, or gone shopping, but no. I went to the gym. I was trying to avoid that; I even had a list of excuses in my purse. But I went. Like a good girl. I haven't been for a while, and I knew going in that my muscles would retaliate, and they did. Can't walk today. I may have gotten a little over-zealous with the squats. All 60 of them. That may not sound like a lot to you out there who are workout nazi's, but I've truly been a lazy ass this summer and haven't done SQUAT. Ha! Anyway, I have to admit it did feel good to get back into the groove, but now I have to start all over again with the can't walk up and down stairs or sit on the toilet without excruciating pain. I kept making Jim get me things last night so that I didn't have to move. You know when you feel all rubbery and shaky 2 hours after your workout, that you will have HELL TO PAY in the next couple of days. Oh well. No pain, no gain, or in my case, pain due to no brain.

Apparently I need to chill.

My husband, who thinks I'm a lunatic (but loves me anyway), says I need to stop going to all the earthquake sites and such, trying to figure out the next national disaster, but to instead relax and have a beer. You have to understand, I don't get all freaked out over this stuff, it is just interesting to me. I'm not the tweaky type. I'm what you might call an 'earthquake geek'. HOWEVER, according to my husband, I scare the shit out of everyone ELSE. OK, well, I'm freaking sorry, OK? I should have been a scientist or something. I sometimes get these emails that say something like "Oh my God! I thought I was going to see cute doggies and stuff on your site and all I got was so scared I want to cry." Weenies.

Something is wrong with me.

I know that is stating the obvious, but seriously, something is wrong with me. I have been doing nothing but SLEEPING. I go to work at 8 am, get off around 4:30, then go home and sleep until the next morning. I also sleep all weekend. WTF? I only have 1 job now; you'd THINK I would have more energy, but no. Total and complete laziness. My house is such a mess right now it makes me twitch, and I can't remember what my husband looks like. Could it be the heat? Am I depressed? I don't know. I feel like an uber-sloth. I haven't worked-out in days (that could be the problem) and I just don't feel like doing shit. I've tried to make myself do stuff, but I end up all whiney and crabby. I am going to go get some blood drawn to make sure I'm not anemic or something. Coffee isn't even working.

I'm melting.

It's too freaking HOT. It's like 100 damn degrees here today. I know some of you who live in Texas or Arizona are like, "Yeah, so", but I can't handle it much above 75. I get all dizzy and pukey. I have no pool, no air conditioning, no nothing. I have a small redneck window air conditioner in my bedroom that is sputtering because it can't handle the challenge. I'm all crabby and sweaty. The dogs wouldn't even go outside today. It's really hard to get excited about working out in weather like this. The gym has air conditioning, but just the thought of getting UP OFF THE COUCH sounds like entirely too much work. I feel like I have peed my pants, but it's not pee. YUCK.

Maggie the Statue

So, last night after coming home from work, I proceeded to join my hubby on the back porch for a nightcap. It is there where Maggie, my very strange dog, stared up at moths hitting the porch light for an hour. AN. HOUR. Without moving. Just standing there, staring UP. I tried to look at the light for about 5 seconds to try and capture the magic, but all it did was make me see spots. How could she even see anything? I kept telling her that the moths were too high, but she just ignored me. I could have been wearing a porkchop necklace and she still wouldn't have budged. It was kind of funny, though, watching her act like a statue.

I want to be sedated.

You know, the Ramones song? Yeah, I'm listening to that right now, and its true. I spent 7 hours (7 HOURS!) cleaning the carpet in my front room yesterday, and today I WANT TO BE SEDATED. I got up at 9 am. We went out for breakfast at 11 am. We came home at noon. I went back to bed. Just woke up. Shit, now I won't be able to sleep tonight. The carpet looks good, though.

I haven't posted a pic of my new SUV yet because it's always dirty (and its black), so that simply won't do. So, this is pic of me enjoying my sunroof instead.

Now I'm listening to "Creep" by Radiohead.

You're so fucking special
I wish I was special
But I'm a creep
I'm a weirdo
What the hell am I doing here
I don't belong here

Yeah, it's that kind of night.

Linkage

OK, I totally wiped out my links somehow. Whoops. I've tried to put the list back together based on who has linked me and the ones I can remember at the moment, but I'm sure the list is not complete, SO DON'T HAVE HURT FEELINGS. If you want me to link you back, and you don't see your site, just let me know.

Ding, Dong, My Dumbass Neighbors Are Gone!

They moved, they moved! You remember, the neighbors that drove me nuts? The ones that did all the breeding and were snobby and mean? They're GONE! Hooray! I probably ran them out. Now we just need some TEQUILA to celebrate, MOM.

My Mom

Hi Ma! I know you read my blog, so this entry is for you. I promise I won't use any swear words. Before I start, I want to say, "I love you!" because I do.

Thank you so very much for bringing the yummy Margarita mix and tequila to my little 4th of July party. We had a great time! Also thank you for leaving the margarita mix. However, you took the tequila home. YOU TOOK THE TEQUILA. What kind of mom are you?

Headline: "Neighborhood woman seen holding her dog at gunpoint."

At squirt-gunpoint, that is. Let me share with you how squirt-gun training has progressed with Louie. Jim was trying to get Louie to "shake" last night. He learned "shake" when he was a puppy. Louie was apparently in a pissy mood last night and was refusing to "shake" for my husband. I said, "Watch this.", then I grabbed the squirt gun, pointed it at Lou (without squirting any water) and said, "Shake!" The paw went up. I repeat: THE. PAW. WENT. UP.

Later that night, I let the dogs out potty. Louie was dawdling. I got the gun and pointed. "Potty! Now!" Sooner or later, someone is going to call someone about me, I think.

Bad Sushi

I declare now: I will never EVER eat sushi from a grocery store again. EVER. I am now recovering from what can only be called food poisoning from hell. Monday afternoon I ingested spicy tuna rolls from the grocery store deli section. A few hours after lunch, I began running to the bathroom at work, and bad things were coming out both ends. Monday Evening and all of Tuesday I continued to violently vomit and deal with the worst diarrhea known to man. I have bruises on my knees from kneeling over the porcelain. My stomach hurts and is in knots. I thought my eyeballs were going to pop OUT OF MY HEAD on several puking occasions. I am still afraid of solid foods. I am still sweating. I am still shaking. (I am having my own private earthquakes.) I have never been that sick in my whole life. It hurt BAD. I will not need an ab workout for a week or so. If I even SMELL seafood, I will hurl.

Patience?

Yeah, I don't have that. I have a story, instead. I have been pondering lately about some new ideas on how to get my dogs to listen to (and not totally ignore) me. So, I bought some squirt guns. When I say "No!" or "Stop it!", or whatever, and they DON'T LISTEN, I squirt them! Pretty soon they should be little angels, right? Well, as good as an idea that was, I did not take into consideration the personality of Louie. For the record, I have to say that it works great on Maggie.

Louie is a spiteful little fucker who uses his great intelligence to send me right over the edge.

Squirt-gun training, day 1. Louie is eating something foreign in the yard.

Me: "No!" "No, Louie!"
Louie: Continues to eat foreign object without even looking up.
Me: Squirt, squirt.
Louie: Jumps 5 feet in the air.
Me: Giggle.
Louie: Glare.
Louie: Goes back to eating foreign object.
Me: "NOOO!" Squirt, SQUIRT, SQUIRT.
Louie: Spins around to look at me again and walks away with tail between legs.
Me: I win.

Squirt-gun training, day 2. Louie is barking for no reason whatsofuckingever.

Louie: Woof! Woof! Woof!
Me: "Shut UP!"
Louie: WOOF! WOOF! WOOF!
Me: SQUIRT. "I said knock it off!"
Louie: Runs.
Louie: Pisses. Spitefully. On carpet.
Me: "OH YOU LITTLE MOTHERF......." running with squirt gun in hand cussing so much and so loud that husband is wondering if he should call my therapist.
Louie: Running faster, wagging tail.
Me: Running, tripping over things, and squirting the squirt-gun at Louie, at the furniture, at the walls, still cussing. (It's a great visual, is it not?)

Squirt-gun training, day 3. The milligrams on my anxiety meds are getting a boost.

Uno Job-O

That's right folks, I HAVE ONLY ONE JOB NOW! Last Friday was my last day at the restaurant. It feels very strange to have weekends to myself. I've worked at least 2 jobs since 1998. That was a long haul. I feel like I've retired or something.

Happy Father's Day to all you Fathers out there. I am feeling very blessed at the moment. I just had barbecued beef tenderloin with shrimp, and now I'm sitting on my back porch typing on my blog watching a beautiful sunset. My heart goes out to all the soldiers right now. Keep them in your prayers. The photo is the view from where I'm sitting in the backyard.

Shots, but not the alcoholic kind.

I have to get a gazillion SHOTS for work. Something about Blood Bourne Pathogen Training and Hep A, Hep B, Tetanus, blah, blah, blah. SHOTS. WITH NEEDLES. SHIT. I shuffle paperwork, why do I need shots? Wah.

Knock, Knock, Knock

Hello? Is there anyone there? Sorry for the lack of updates as of late. Can you say BUSY? Everything in my life is changing. New job, new hair, new vehicle. I already told you about the new job, which is still THE SHIT. I love it. I got a brand-new computer with a flat screen monitor, they fixed my farting chair, and we had "Sangria Friday", which was too fun. I also got my hair cut and colored, and I finally bought an SUV! It is a black Saturn Vue, and it's fully loaded. Leather seats, a butt-warmer, sunroof, power everything, you name it. I am giddy with glee, I tell you. I'm wondering when all the wonderfulness is going to go away. Oh, and, on top of that, we are supposed to have a wicked thunderstorm today!

The New Job

OK, sorry for not updating right away, I am trying to be a good girl with the internet. The new job ROCKS. A kitchen full of food/drink, an office full of crazy people, an easier job I than I had before, a bigger paycheck and a flex-schedule! It just doesn't get any better than that! I'm a little lonely for my old friends, but it's just a matter of time before I warm the hearts here. Ha. There are only 2 sucky things about it. My chair makes a "farting" noise every time I sit in it, and I sit in a cubicle. Not a good combo. But other than that, I'm pretty happy.

Tweaked

I'm freaking out. I can't even type anymore. In fact, I can't do anything anymore. Especially think and spell. I had to go in an extra day after my official last day at work to do some training, and THAT was the day I had the realization that I just left a job I have spent 10 years at, my comfort zone, my home, my internet play box, my JOB. I am now going into the unknown where I may have to actually BLOG AT HOME. The horror. Maybe. I have been pacing and not eating and acting like someone who is perma-caffeinated. Which is probably true anyway.

I don't know why I'm tweaking so much NOW, but I am. I have a case of the what ifs. What if I suck at my new job? What if I hate my new job? What if they hate me?

Did I not warn you?

Jobs

OK. It has been an interesting week. My boss said to me on Friday looking at my EMPTY office, "Wow. You sure are anxious to start your new job." Yes, it's true. About 5 minutes after I gave my two weeks' notice, I started cleaning out my office. Hee. A co-worker also told me I seemed "happy" and "relaxed". (As opposed to angry and stressed out.) Apparently, I was unhappy there. I thought it was going to be an emotional and stressful week, but nope. Just want to get the hell outta there. I just keep thinking about the concept of a life. and its satisfying. People keep asking me if I'm "going to the meeting", and I keep replying "Nah." Nothing has ever given me more delight.

For Mrs. Divaquest: I work for a medical device manufacturing company. I control all procedures and engineering drawings, and make sure all goings-on comply with international and FDA regulations. I also do audits. Hold back all enthusiasm. I know I do. My official title is "Regulatory Affairs Specialist", but my unofficial title is "Goddess of everything". I'm pretty much going to be doing the same thing at the new company, but for more $$ and less annoying assholes. (I've met everyone, and they are great.) I know no company is 'perfect', but seriously folks, I work at a tomb. Most people there are so boring and arrogant it makes me want to hurl.

I'm very excited to start my new job. I hear they are quite the "pranksters". I'll fit in well. It will also be exciting to have a whole new office of people I can make fun of.

Whaaa?

Somebody Googled "Captain Crunch Frappuccino recipes", and my site came up. Not only is that a tad bizarre, but CAPTAIN CRUNCH FRAPPUCCINO? Must. Find. Now.

Hell is frozen and pigs are flying.

Drumroll please...

I did it! I did it! I QUIT MY DAY JOB. I have been there for 10 WHOLE YEARS. It is the only real job I've ever had.

Out of the blue, I got a call from this really great job across the street from where I work now. I interviewed, got an offer, and took it. Lots more $$, lots more benefits, and STOCK OPTIONS. God, I feel like an adult or something. Scary. I am a little freaked out, though, this is a HUGE step for me. I will be exiting my comfort zone. I may be a little neurotic in the weeks to come. Just warning you.

I quit one of my restaurant jobs, too. I repeat, I QUIT ONE OF MY RESTAURANT JOBS. As it stands now, I will only be working a couple of hours on Friday nights at the French restaurant, just for fun. :) HOLY CRAP. A REAL LIFE. Look out, world.

I start my new job the 23rd. My old job is not happy. It will be an interesting 2 weeks. A little sad, too, I've known some of my co-workers for the entire 10 years. BUT I will just be across the street.

Great for Mondays

Go to https://funtranslations.com/ and type something in. It's freaking hysterical. I have wasted most of a morning there.

Hold on to your ass, Fred!

CrazyDogMama may have a new day job that will pay her enough $$ to quit all of the other jobs. Think of it! ONE JOB! What will I do? Drink more? Take more naps? Take the photography class I've been wanting to take for a year now? Ooh, the possibilities are endless.

I am so excited I can't even sit still.

Conversation Overheard at Home Depot

Home Depot worker #1 who is on a huge ladder getting something down from high above: "Hey (to Home Depot worker #2), can you help me with this?"

Home Depot worker #2: "You can do it - just switch (this thing) with (this thing)."
Home Depot worker #1: "I don't understand what you're saying."
Home Depot worker #2: "Oh, come ON Dude, it's not Rocket Surgery!!"
Crazydogmama thinks to herself: "Rocket Surgery?"

All work and no play makes CrazyDogMama a dull girl.

Seriously folks, I am about dead. I only have one more 70-hour week, but still. Wah. I'm getting all kinds of whiny email from people who need an update. Well, here's your frigging update. More earthquakes. EVERYWHERE. Icebergs ramming continents. Volcanos rumbling and erupting. My period was 3 weeks late. (No pregnancy - probably just solar/magnetic activity. No shit.)

I drank SlimFast this week. I know, I know. Stupid. It's just that I'm sick of my regular Pro-Complex and Muscle Milk.

I bought Louie and Maggie new collars.

I got a new scale that measures weight, Body Fat AND hydration level. 55 bucks to tell me I'm too fat and dehydrated. Awesome.

I washed my pillowcase covers last week and still haven't put them back on the pillows.

I killed a huge-ass fly in my office today, but I was too grossed-out to pick up its mashed carcass off of the carpeting, so I made one of my co-workers do it.

I have $1.04 in my checking account.

Happy?

Definition of a sad day.

It is a sad day when you have to blow your nose in a maxi pad because you have no Kleenex.

I scare people.

OK, so two jobs weren't enough. Three anyone? I self-mutilate. Leave me alone. I started a new part-time job at another restaurant in the hopes of replacing the other restaurant job where they make we work weekends and expose me to THE BEAST. (See a few posts back for explanation if you just can't stand not to know.) I want to work 4 days a week. That's it. I will have to fit 48 hours' worth of work into those 4 days, but whatever. Having three days off IN A ROW is necessary right now for my sanity. I started my new job last night, and the girl who was training me asked "Do you have any kids?". A normal response would have been: "No, none of my own but I do have a stepson." However, since I am not normal, (Who knew?) I said something like: "OH HELL NOOOO", to which her response was laughter and a comment like "Wow, I've never gotten a response like that before. It doesn't sound like you're GOING TO HAVE kids, either." Apparently, my vocal cords spasm and contort when asked if I have kids.

GARAGE: A Photo Essay

Also known as, a lame Thursday night. To most I am a "neat freak". I am the one you'll find scrubbing the base boards and taking almost a year to finish all my paint touch-ups. Well, not every room in the house is under such scrutiny, namely, the GARAGE. We refer to the GARAGE as "Man-land" or "husband-land". You will see why. Brace yourselves.

In the first photo, you'll see "the table". This holds such items as Crown Royal, Tequila, empty protein shake cups, empty beer bottles, Tinactin, cigarettes, ashtrays, lighters, chip clips, old mail and other miscellaneous things that are way too heavy to move to the garbage can. Note the remote that is disguised as a golf bag.

In the second photo, you'll see a big pile of boxes. Some say we have a problem; I say we just like pretty silver and red boxes.

In the third photo, you'll see the heavy bag I use to practice my kickboxing on. Tonight, while sporting red slippers, I commenced to practicing after a little Tequila. (OK, OK, a LOT of Tequila) My husband knocked over several beer bottles after laughing at me KICKING OFF MY SLIPPER, and watching it SAIL into the wall and back down. HARD. I did do a nice roundhouse, though, without falling over. YOU try that after 4 shots.

In the fourth photo, you'll see red slippers with little Scottie Dogs on them. I am a total BADASS in these.

In the fifth photo, you'll a nice TV, and a guitar. Warmth and entertainment. We ARE civilized, I'll have you know.

In the sixth photo, you'll see dogs. What garage would be complete without fuzziness? Here Lou is saying "Mom, can we PLEEEZ go back inside? You are acting like total white trash!"

In the seventh photo, you'll see my darts, pre-tequila. Jim said to me, "Nice Cluster". Yeah, I TOTALLY closed out 1's. Hehe.

In the 8th and final photo, you'll see my darts, post-tequila. Oh, just shut up.

Adult Supervision

So the other day, being the good and concerned stepmom that I am, I asked my stepson if he was still going to gym. He said not really cuz his mom had been busy. Since we go to the same gym, I told him that I would go with him and supervise if he wanted. He told me "Cheryl, you are the one that needs supervision." Little fucker. and I mean that in the nicest, most loving way ever. :)

I couldn't resist.

So, for all you fuckers out there that roll your eyes every time I start blogging about earthquakes getting worse and NEOs (Near-Earth-Objects), have you been listening to the news lately and seen all of what is happening? Hmmm? An 8.7 earthquake killing possibly 2000 people, and scientists worried about Yellowstone? I'm telling you, something it up, you just won't believe me.

More new jobs and my general well-being.

So, that job I told you that my hubby got? Well, it didn't work out. BUT, he got ANOTHER new job and THIS one is cool. It is totally outside of the field he was in before (which was woodworking). This new job incorporates all of his manliness, and he loves it. He came home yesterday and was all like, "and today...at work...I got to do this...and see that..." - you get the picture. (And...one time...at Bandcamp...)

My work, however, is just not as exciting. I do have kind of a funny story, though. Yesterday, my boss asked what my official title was, and after I told him I said, "but that's not really my title according to some." He is a bit of a smartass himself and he said, "I know." That raised my eyebrow and I said, "It better be a NICE title, damnit." and he said, "Well, it has the word Goddess in it." I can live with that.

Happy Easter?

For our Easter this year, it was off to the in-laws with the kid. After a nice Easter prayer was said by my husband, and during a very lovely ham dinner, I decided to have some champagne. Mistake.

After offering some champagne to my stepson as a joke (to which he respectfully declined), I spilled a little gravy on my shirt. (Not a surprise.) I went to the sink to wash it off and then had a large water stain on my boob-area. When my husband said something or other about my "wet spot", I of course, giggled and said something like, "Are you talking about my vagina?" My stepson almost shot apple cider out of his nose and THEN I SAID TO HIM, "Yeah, you're probably thinking to yourself, I wish I had said yes to that fucking champagne right about now, aren't you?"  Laughter erupted from my stepson and myself, and I'm sure I will be disowned from the family by Tuesday.

Chipmunks and Kickboxing

Apparently, when I'm kickboxing, I look like a chipmunk. That's right folks. Last night at practice, my ever-so-loving ho-bag of a friend said that when I'm punching and she is holding the mits, I have this very chipmunk-y front-teeth-over-my-bottom-lip thing going on. It's my concentration, OK? Anyway, she did an impression of me, and I started laughing so hard I couldn't breathe. You know, the kind of laughing where your mouth is open, but no sound is coming out and tears are flying down your face and your stomach hurts? I'm sure we entertain the rest of the class. So, now that she has made fun of me in public, I'm going to plaster her name all over the internet. MARYANN, MARYANN, MARYANN. So there!!

Blog Hell

It's been so damn hard to post lately. I don't know why. Is it laziness? Perhaps. Is it that nothing interesting is happening? Nah. Is it that I'm too busy? Probably. Anyway, I have bloggers-block, I think. I start writing and it just sounds like blah, blah, blah, blah. The dogs haven't even done anything blog-worthy lately. I could post more about the crazy world events that are plunging us into Armageddon, but again, nah. I could tell you about my scrapbooking, but that's boring. How about the fact that my new boss is making me work so hard that I go home and go right to sleep? Yeah, that would make YOU go right to sleep. So, here we are. Nothing. I did start drinking OJ again after reading Skwigg's post. Maybe that is what is blocking my blog abilities. Whatever. Crap. This is quite possibly the stupidest fucking post EVER. Sorry. I'll try to do better later.

Stepkids and Crazy-Ass Dogs

My stepson (in the middle) just turned 13. He is a total goofball (we get along great) and here he is with his fruitloop friends. He has his first girlfriend now (not shown in picture cuz he would kill me) and her name is Hope. OK, 1...2...3...Awwww.



Here is Maga-dog. It never fails when I am on the floor taking pictures, there WILL be a dog nose print on the camera.

This Just In

Stan Deyo Issues Warning! March 7, 2005

This evening on Steve Quayle's Q-Files Radio Program, Scientist Stan Deyo issued a Warning about a possible building Cascade Subduction Zone 9.0+ Earthquake that could produce not only a 9.0 Quake but also resulting multiple tsunamis' that could last 8 to 10 hours, washing back and forth, causing much destruction.

Deyo reported that the Juan de Fuca Plate is starting to buckle and puts British Columbia at great risk; also threatening Washington, Oregon, California and basically the entire West Coast of US. Deyo reported that he has never seen these type signals ever off the West Coast of US, but they're there now!

Deyo believes that the other Scientists that should be warning are being muzzled by their governments to avoid panic. Steve Quayle stated he has reports that Russian Scientists are warning of a 10.0+ off the US West Coast. Deyo did report that this involves not only Seismic Quake activity but also volcanic at Mt. St. Helen's and under the ocean off Vancouver Island.

This is a very serious Warning to the United States & Canadian West Coast area. Included in the interview was reports that Scientists are rushing to the northwestern and Canadian area to investigate the current spike of events and danger signals. Deyo reported that local northwest advisories are advising a Go-Bag with 72 hours provision and advise to flee the area if anything happens.

Mountain Go Boom

Mt. St. Helens erupted during my commute home yesterday. I am too far away to see any of it, but it is always exciting when you get about 5 cell phone calls from friends and family saying, "It blew again". Everyone I know, knows that I love following all these kinds of events - volcanos, earthquakes, etc., so when something happens, I am all of sudden very popular to talk to. The last few weeks have been rather eventful, too. All kinds of shit going down. My skeptical husband who always rolls his eyes at me, said to me yesterday "You know, something is not right. Too much stuff is happening, and something is not right." My paranoia has finally rubbed off! LOL. :) The dogs have been all twitchy, too. Last night Louie started howling, and this morning Jim said they were all lovey. SOMETHING IS DEFINATELY WRONG FOLKS.

Employed!

FINALLY! Jim got a job! I was laughing at him this morning because he works at 5 am in the morning and he was dragging ass. I have been getting up at 4am for as long as I can remember, so I was not so sympathetic. LOL. Apparently, my teasing ticked off God, though, because after Jim left, I spent a half-hour looking for my stupid fucking keys - making me LATE for work with my new boss. THEN, I got a call from Jim, and he told me he was being sent home early because there was a minor earthquake that his new job was at the epicenter of. Stuff was all over the place that they were having to clean up, and the machinery was out of calibration rendering it useless. Figures.

Have you noticed the increase in earthquake activity lately?

The Beast

There comes a time in everyone's life (especially females) when paths are crossed with vile creatures. The vile creature that has recently crossed my path will herein be referred to as "The Beast".

The Beast started work at the restaurant last week. The Beast was cleverly disguised as a bubbly, girlie-girl waitress with a lot of experience. Oh, but no. Underneath that horribly fake blonde hair with lots of bling-bling in it, there resides evil. Evil that makes the devil shutter. The Beast decided that she would kiss as much ass as possible to try and "get" my job. I'm not sure why she wants it, but nonetheless, she pursues. The Beast is a money-grubbin' whore. If there were a 20-dollar bill laying on the floor, and you were in the Beast's way, she would stab you with a butter knife to get to it, I shit you not.

Thank the Lord I am not the only employee to feel this way. Apparently, I don't hide being annoyed well, and a private discussion was had on what to do about the situation. We decided to grit our teeth and bare it for now, and let life take its course. Boy, did it. The Beast let her evil out by phone call at a quarter to midnight on Saturday. I was still working, and just happen to answer. The owner witnessed the wrath of the Beast.

The call was about how she was all pissed about having to "share" her tips with me and two other employees that night, although she disguised this real reason as "I need to know exactly how much I made so that I can write it down for my taxes, and I know I made more than $75." Whatever. We don't usually have a tip-pool, but due to a large banquet party, it was the fairest route since we all busted our asses. I am in charge of the dining room and made the command decision to make an even split of the tips. You have to keep in mind here that this was her third night of work, and she was technically still in training. She is lucky she got ANYTHING. The Beast demanded copies of her tickets. (She apparently didn't look at them before she left.) She went on to tell me that when she was hired on, she was told that all servers made individual tips, and if this not how it was going to be, then she was going to have to quit. (Oh well! So sad!) She said she didn't like sharing because she is "used to making better tips than her co-workers and it would not be fair to share them". Say WHAT? Excuuuse me, but I've been waiting tables for 17 years, BITCH, and have bigger tits than you. The Beast even witnessed me making a 65$ tip on a $145 tab the other night, yet she still had the nerve to say this to me. I am the only other server there. I concluded she was pissed because she made a bee-line for the door to seat those very same good-tipping customers in her section on Saturday night. They are regulars, MY regulars. I was a little miffed to say the least. Who the hell does she think she is? She is certainly not CrazyDogMama, damn it.

The Beast also likes to show off by bringing in her own wine accessories and such and give the owner all kinds of "suggestions". It gets on my damn nerves. But, as it turns out, it gets on the owner's nerves as well. (Insert evil smiley face here). It will be interesting to see where this goes. Stay tuned.

Update

You are all so great. Thank you for all the personal emails...I wasn't really mad, I just wanted to stir the pot a little. Hehe. All of the blogs I read daily really cheer me up and keep me going. I actually feel guilty for not writing in mine. I know I am all twitchy when my favorite bloggers go on hiatus.

Jim is still on the job-hunt, but he decided to go with a staffing agency for now to just get something to keep us going. He is wanting to get out of the woodworking business, but that will of course take some time and soul-searching. In the meantime, we need stuff. Especially me. I'm a stuff-needing-girl. The greedy little bitch that I am. My close friends keep telling me to snap-the-hell-out-of-the-depression. They don't let me get away with whining a whole lot. Especially when I try to get out of working out. Picture 3 women dragging a fourth to the gym kicking and screaming holding onto a brownie while smoking. That's me.

Louie and Maggie are on serious vacation. When I come home last night, all three of them (Jim included here) are laying T-U on the floor lounging with the TV blaring. Bones laying nearby, and bags of Cheetos. That is when I go into my B-movie routine of how I am working so hard the flesh is falling off of my fingers and where's my dinner? Get-the-hell-up-before-I-kick-you!

Things are looking up, though. I am in a silly mood today and I was brought an iced mocha. Oh, the Joy.

Total Slacker

That would be me. I have watched my blog stats sail downhill the last few weeks; no doubt due to my lack of updating. Well, you know WHAT? BITE ME. No one has emailed me to ask if I'm dead, and there have been no words of encouragement. So, again, BITE ME. The depression and total pity-pot attitude I have had lately has turned to cynicism, sarcasm and anger. So, basically, I'm back to normal. But APPARENTLY you don't miss me, so BITE ME.

Day 17 of No Days Off

It is the aftermath of V-D. (Valentine's Day for all you warm and fuzzy freaks out there.).Holy Crap-O-Rama. The restaurant I work at was sold to a new owner last December and this was the first REALLY CRAZY night we've had. My body aches this morning, and I swear I'm getting varicose veins. Gross. Anyway, I have 5 more days until I finally have a day off. What will I do that day, you ask? SLEEP. EAT. SLEEP. REPEAT.

Louie is being really sweet and loving and cute and fuzzy. I'm wondering what the hell is going on in that little doggie brain of his. I'm waiting for the bomb to drop.

As if you don't already pity me.

Let me tell you about my day yesterday. It was going along just fine, la la la. THEN, I decided to try and figure out my own taxes before I go to the tax guy, so that I will know whether or not I can do it myself next year, or if I'm a complete retard. So, I just basically copied my taxes from last year, filling in the new numbers and complying with the new laws. (Love the new deduct-all-your-sales-tax thing.) Before I started, I thought I'd probably get around $1500 back per usual, give or take a few hundred. WRONG. I get back NOTHING. Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck Fuck. This is the year I needed a return. Jim has no job. There is no food in the refrigerator. I can't go anywhere or do anything. I owe everyone I know money. My hair is turning brown. THE HORROR. Enter bad mood.

THEN I went to the Post office on my lunch break and my "YOUR ENGINE IS GOING TO BLOW UP" light on my car's dashboard turned on. Super. Perfect. I called a mechanic, and he told me to go make sure I had my gas cap screwed on tight. (Apparently, he thought I was an idiot. A common mistake.) Yes, the stupid gas cap is on, fool. So, I had to get the car in right away. Long story short, I wrote a check for about $350 dollars that my bank account doesn't have. Yeah, that's right. Bad mood turning to panic.

After that, it was time to go to kickboxing. After writing the rubber check, I had developed a major migraine. Since it was only 4:30, and kickboxing wasn't until 7:30, I figured I could just go take a nap in between. I didn't get all the way home before I needed to stop driving and LAY DOWN. HEAD NOT GOOD. GOING TO PUKE. I parked in the grocery store parking lot across the street from the gym to rest. Of course, the place I decided to park just happened to be the next hang out for the local dumb-ass kids who have nothing else to do but hang out in the grocery store parking lot. Loud thumping music. Loud stupid kids. Crazydogmama pissed. I moved the car to a different spot, all the while my head is pounding so hard I can't even see. I am thinking at this point that kickboxing probably isn't a good idea tonight. (duh, ya think?) I start to cry. Not a little whimper or two, but BAWLING so hard that my face puffs up, snot is running out my nose and my mascara is running down into my bra. I have no Kleenex mind you, and my headache is getting worse with the pathetic wailing.

My cell phone rings. It's my kickboxing buddy calling to see if I'm still going. I sound like a train wreck, and she asks me what the hell is going on and where I am. She comes and picks me up and takes me to one of our other kickboxing friend's house. Since I am a big loser this evening, everyone decides we are not going to kickboxing. They give me a drink. It is Dr. Pepper and Malibu rum. I am in no mood to argue. Don't ask. They give me headache drugs. Much better. I still looked really pretty, though, with raccoon-face.

Today has been "I gotta find money to put in the bank" day. So far, I've come up with 170$. Only 180$ to go!

Are you realizing my whole "February" issue yet??

I hate February.

Anyone who knows me, knows I hate February. Most of the *really* bad things that have ever happened to me, have happened in February. (I have big issues with Valentine's Day especially, but we're not talking about that.) I basically just hold my breath all month waiting for a bomb to drop. This year, however, I am optimistic for the first time since I was 16. So many icky things happened in January this year that I think I may skate through February unscathed. Maybe. You see, January is usually a great month for me, but not this year. Maybe it is taking February's place. It might as well, there is weirdness everywhere, and I mean weirdness. Are any of you experiencing weirdness too?? Dreams, feelings, people doing and saying bizarre things, etc. There is a guy at work that tiptoes down the hallway. He is not trying to be funny. It's that weirdness I'm telling you about. Yesterday, I saw a guy walking down the street with a wig on crooked. A normal, suburban street. I am living in the twilight zone. Either that, or I need to chill on reading all those freak-ass articles on the internet about aliens and Bigfoot.