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.