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.