Did I ever tell you...

...about when I first got Louie? This is a funny story. We brought little Louie-fuzball home on July 3rd. Yes, the day before the 4th of July. Anyway, he was cute and fuzzy and peed everywhere, as expected. What was not expected, however, was me thinking my new little puppy was possessed. I had never owned a Cairn Terrier before, and boy was I IN FOR A SURPRISE. Cairns do all the cute puppy things that regular puppies do, except one thing. They play like they are pit bulls. Louie disembodied plush toys and growled like he was possessed by the devil. (You know that story in the bible about the possessed pigs? Well, yeah.) At the time, we did not know if he was just playing, or if he had distemper or something. The vet gave him a clean bill of health, and Louie was all normal-acting at the vet's office (of course) so distemper was ruled out. He would do this "grrr...grrr...grrr" thing with all of his teeth bared and his tail spinning like a helicopter blade. It was a little frightening. All 2 lbs. of him. He only did this for us. Whenever we had company over, he was a little puppy angel. The little fucker only wigged-out for us. I ended up calling my mom bawling my eyes out telling her that Louie was possessed, and I didn't know what to do. She just laughed at me. We laugh about it NOW, but I'm telling you, if a little puppy came rushing out of YOUR bathroom with a little white bathroom trashcan in his mouth, shaking it back and forth while growling like he just made his first kill, YOU would be nervous too.

Oh, and here's the Thankful List:

1. I am thankful for my hubby who will drive an hour at 10pm at night (without complaining) to bring me my car keys that I have locked in my car for the BAZILLIONTH TIME.

2. I am thankful for my little 1040 square foot home that still has paint tape on the spots I have not finished from the July painting.

3. I am thankful for my little possessed puppies who light up my life every day.

4. I am thankful for all the rest of my family who has not committed me to an insane asylum yet.

5. I am thankful to have a job that has let me stay for 10 whole years and lets me blog.

6. I am thankful for prescription drugs that keep me from curling up in the fetal position sucking my thumb.

7. I am thankful that I have my health. I still can't do a pull-up, though. I am still a wimp-ass.

8. I am thankful for iced mochas. You knew I had to put this one in, right?

9. I am thankful for Nature's Miracle. (The stuff that cleans up dog pee.)

10. I am thankful for all the wonderful friends I have made through blogging, here's to you!

Notes to Self

Gingerbread Lattes, good. Eggnog Lattes, really good. Me to Lou-dog: "Get away from my NOG, DOG!"

Earthquakes and Turkey Day

As you know, I like to keep up with earthquake statistics. Yes, I know, the ultimate Geekdom. Anyway, check this out: (I bolded the magnitudes)

>2004/11/15 09:06 M 7.0 WEST COAST OF COLOMBIA Z 4.61N 77.54W>
>2004/11/16 10:06 M 6.1 NEW BRITAIN REGION, P.N.G. Z 5.57S 151.42E>
>2004/11/17 21:09 M 6.6 FIJI REGION Z 19.96S 178.80W>
>2004/11/20 08:07 M 6.2 COSTA RICA Z 9.57N 84.19W>
>2004/11/20 22:01 M 6.1 COAST OF GUATEMALA Z 13.41N 90.05W>
>2004/11/21 11:41 M 6.0 LEEWARD ISLANDS Z 15.68N 61.69W>
>2004/11/21 11:07 M 6.0 TONGA Z 15.33S 174.99W>
>2004/11/22 20:26 M 7.3 OFF W. COAST OF S. IS, N.Z. 46.57S 164.83E

Those are some big-ass magnitudes, no? Over the last few years, this has become the norm and therefore the media has become complacent about it. However, 10 years ago - this would have been headlining news. There has also been much volcano activity in the last few months. Looks like the Ring of Fire is roasting some chestnuts for the holidays.

Besides waiting for the "big one" to hit, I will also be cooking Thanksgiving food for SIX WHOLE PEOPLE. Needless to say, I'm terrified. You may have read some of my earlier posts on the cooking disaster that is me. Jim is doing the turkey and the mashed potatoes, so I at least have peace about that. One year, though, I forgot my brain and bought a FROZEN TURKEY one day before Thanksgiving. That was quite possibly the most stressful 24 hours of my life. I won't be doing that again. Fresh turkey, I repeat, fresh turkey.

Jim puts garlic and butter all over the turkey and whips the potatoes. He is really sexy when he mashes all of those potatoes. I make my special secret stuffing, the baked pineapple (my fav!), the cranberry sauce (whole berries, of course), the gravy, the rolls, the banana dessert Jim has to have, and usually the green bean crunch - but this year I'm making my mom bring that. My friends are bringing pumpkin pie tartlets and alcohol. Okay, so really, I don't have to do that much. I'm scared anyway.

Because I love you all (well, most of you) here is quite possibly the best Thanksgiving recipe on the planet:

Baked Pineapple
In a baking dish (size of your choice) create the following layers:

1 layer of crumbled saltine crackers
1 layer of pieces of real butter
1 layer of pineapple rings
1 layer of brown sugar

Repeat layers about 3 times, then bake in the oven at about 350 for 40 minutes or so. During the last 10 minutes, add a layer of small marshmallows on top. DO NOT SKIMP ON ANY OF THE INGREDIENTS. Serve piping hot.

It sounds simple-stupid, but I'm telling you, you will reach orgasm. This recipe was passed down to me over several generations on my mother's side. It originated in the deep South. Trust me. Try it. People will ask you to make it every year for the rest of your life. :)

Have a Happy (and safe!) Turkey Day!! I will be posting what I am thankful for in the days to come - which is now an annual blogging tradition for me.

Where's Crazydogmama?

She has been hiding. Had the flu last week, then killed my back scrubbing the bathroom floor. To make it all better, this helps:



It's like a cross between soft Captain Crunch and Lucky Charms. Jim picked it up at the store for me along with Orange Juice and Cold/Flu tablets. My husband rocks. Seriously.

I have not felt like blogging at all. I don't know why. Sorry.

Oh yeah, I had a birthday.

I turned 33 last Friday. Whoop-de-doo. My boss at the restaurant gave me a bottle of champagne and I drank almost all of it in one sitting. I also (and you will be proud) went to the gym with my workout buddies. They gave me presents and I kicked their ass. (I am training them.) I am not a certified trainer, but they decided I had the most knowledge of the 3 of us, and actually do EVERYTHING I tell them to do. It is so fun. I love bossing people around, I've learned. It is amazing that they trust someone who has a purple knee from flying off the Stairmaster after "accidentally" pressing level 10 without realizing it. *blush* Yes, it's true. I have fallen off BOTH the treadmill and the Stairmaster now. No one comes to my rescue anymore. It's like "that's just Cheryl falling off the machines again".

Halloween Photos, FINALLY!

OK, so what if it took 2 weeks to post them, I've been busy being lazy.

Jesus gone insane. (My neighbor naturally looks like Jesus.) Everyone took turns trying on the straight jacket. We KNOW how to party, I'm tellin' ya.



Here is the "new" Leatherface mask. It was about 12 sizes too large for Jim's head, so we put it in a bowl and had black light on it.



Jim in the old mask. I know you WANT him, bad.



My little ankle-biter. Ha!

OH HAPPY HAPPY JOY JOY!

I got a new cam-er-a, I got a new cam-er-a!! It is my birthday this Friday, and I bought myself a REAL camera. I already have a good digital, but that was it. NOW, I have a new Konica Minolta 35mm with a 28-100 lens and a 75-300 zoom lens! Oh, happy day! I'm also going to be taking a photography class in January so that I can learn how to turn it on and load the film. LOL. I just love photography and have always wanted to learn how to do more than take snapshots. Wheeee.

OK, I've unloaded the Halloween pics from my camera, now all I have to do is pick out which ones I can post without getting shit from my friends. Maybe tonight...I KNOW you just can't wait any longer.

Side Note

If you finish your mocha before any of the whipped cream melts, you have issues. If you, after finishing the mocha, take the lid off and scoop the unmelted whipped cream OUT OF THE CUP and eat it, you have some serious issues.

Three words: Toffee. Almond. Bars.

God has sent these down to Starbucks from Heaven, and I finally tried one. It almost pained me to purchase a non-chocolate item, but OH MY GOD IT WAS SO WORTH IT. I snarfed that puppy down in 3 bites while waiting for my mocha. (Yes, I know. Shut up.) I think I must have looked shocked and orgasmic at the same time because the barista kept looking up at me with a "you are going to choke" look on her face. I'm telling you right now - TRY THEM. Forget the chocolate espresso brownies. Ok, don't forget them, but go toffee. You won't regret it. Don't go to the Starbucks I go to, though. Cuz they are MINE, ALL MINE. I might just purchase the whole lot and sit my toffee-ass in front of the TiVo tonight.

If...

...I read ONE MORE blog today that talks about the damn election I AM GOING TO HURL. I swear to GOD!

A Halloween Recap...

OK, I'm still recovering from our Halloween party, give me one more day or so and I'll put some pictures up. I have to be careful what pictures I post, though, cuz I could very easily get my ass kicked. Note to self: getting too old to party that hard. You can't drink a pint of rum by yourself anymore.

There were bloody body parts and glow-in-the-dark silly string everywhere. When you have consumed as many adult beverages as we did, it becomes difficult to determine whether or not you should eat pizza that is lit up. We also have video of people line dancing to the "Rocky Horror Picture Show" soundtrack. It is scary to think we are all in our 30's. Our party took place in my garage, where everyone froze, and where we may have set a bad example to the neighborhood children. I'm not sure, though, I don't remember any children. Were there kids? We ran out of candy at about 7 pm. We did not run out of liquor. I vaguely remember my husband hi-fiving some kid using a severed arm.

More later, I need a nap.

Lunar Eclipse

Pretty neat, right?!? We had a fabulous view from our front yard, and I froze my ass off like a freak taking pictures of it for an hour. Super cool.

Speaking of Killing Spiders

There is definitely a RIGHT way and a WRONG way to kill a spider for me.

The RIGHT way:

1. Very quickly, and I mean QUICKLY run and get a large tissue or paper towel.
2. Wait for me to reach minimum safe distance from the killing ground.
3. Smash the spider into the tissue or paper towel, making sure you cannot see ANY of the spider. There should be no "spider residue" on the wall, either.
4. Take the dead spider wad IN THE OPPOSITE DIRECTION from where I am and dispose of it in an outside garbage facility.

The WRONG way:

1. Take your time looking at the spider before you fetch anything to kill it with.
2. Tell me that spiders are "good" and shouldn't be killed because they eat bugs. BULLSHIT.
3. Kill the spider with your bare hand.
4. Scoop the spider up with a piece of paper and put it outside. IT WILL COME BACK IN TO GET ME.
5. Kill the spider, then try to walk towards me with its legs sticking out of a tissue.
6. Leave spider guts on the wall.
7. Whack the spider, letting it just fall to the ground AND NOT PICKING IT UP. This is a serious NO-NO.
8. Put the dead spider in the trash next to my desk. You KNOW it will be resurrected and come back to get me, right?
9. Put the dead spider in the toilet. They crawl back up, and I can't even finish this sentence...
10. And last, but not least, LAUGH AT ME AND TELL ME TO BE A BIG GIRL. I will kill you.

Some Clarifications

Regarding the questions/comments on the picture of Louie and Maggie on my sidebar:

No, Louie does not smoke Marlboro Lights. He's partial to Camels.

No, that is not a gun pointed at Louie's head, it's my emergency brake.

No, Louie was not in danger of a head-whack from the emergency brake if I took a turn too sharp, we were sitting in a parking lot waiting for our designated appointment at the vet's office.

Ways to irritate me at work.

1. Don't say good morning as you pass by me in the hallway. Come ON, that's rude.

2. Gleefully stroll past me in the hallway and exclaim "Happy Monday!". Just DIE.

3. Pour yourself the last of the coffee and then put the empty pot back on the burner and walk away as I'm standing there.

4. Come into my office at 6:30 am and start explaining a complicated project to me. You could at least wait until noon.

5. Come into my office and start reading the personal notes on my wall calendar.

6. Comment on the notes on my wall calendar and start asking me what my personal acronyms mean.

7. Stand in the doorway of my office until I get off the phone.

8. Come into my office and help yourself to my expensive hand lotion without asking.

9. Ask me how much money I make.

10. Refuse to kill spiders for me. That's just MEAN.

11. Mock my coughing fit from your office two doors down.

12. State to me loudly "You're having ANOTHER cigarette?".

13. Bring your baby to work and expect me to act like its the cutest baby EVER. I am afraid of babies, and I will HIDE IN THE BATHROOM UNTIL YOU LEAVE.

14. Bring everyone back an ice cream except me just because I told you I was lactose intolerant. Fucker.

15. Bring stinky food for lunch.

16. Tell me my desk is "too clean". I'm organized you idiot, not underworked.

17. Bring donuts in the day after I tell you I'm "eating clean" this week.

18. Keep slamming the door adjacent to my office.

19. Sigh, huff and act annoyed while waiting for me at the copy machine. It will make me take longer.

What a week I'm having!

I can't handle domestic problems. My stepson has decided, at the age of 12, to start the rebellious stage. I probably shouldn't give the details, but in a nutshell, he is faking sick to get out of school at least once a week, lighting matches (then lying about it), and running away down the street to the local KFC. When found, he had his backpack with him that contained a Gameboy, Gameboy games, a couple of books, 50$ and a steak knife. You know, all the necessities of life. He lives with his mom, so we are hearing about all of this over the phone, but my husband is all stressed-out and fit-to-be-tied. No one knows what to do. The first thing that comes to my mind is: Why don't you whack him with a newspaper and put him in the crate? Probably why I don't and shouldn't have kids. Ha.

On top of that, I can't find the energy to do the laundry, the dishes and generally get out of bed. I don't know if it's a touch of depression, or just being overwhelmed by life itself. The smallest tasks are frightening me. I have also had 3 iced mochas this week with regular milk. It's the only way to cope, I'm telling you.

Absolutely Unmotivated

To do anything. I keep reading all these blogs where people are working out with a vengeance, eating clean, losing weight and are just generally pumped-up and motivated. I am not motivated to do shit this week. I've been sleeping too much, eating too much and afraid to get on the scale. I've been eating all of my "intolerant" foods, therefore I'm grumpy, sickly and dragging my big, fat ass. I suffer from "workout burnout". I wish I was more like Skwigg and Yogagirl. For some reason I just can't think "fitness" and "Health" 24-7. I enjoy my fitness regimen of HIIT (occasionally), but I'll never have that trainer mentality full-time. I'm not sure why. I have extensive knowledge, it's just that I have too many days of not caring. There are times when I get into a specific yoga position on the floor and decide just to stay on the floor and take a nap. What is wrong with me?

In other news, I am obsessed with getting an iPod. Can't afford it right now, but I *really* want one. I think I want the iPod mini, but should I get it in lime green, or pink? I don't know. I really want a McDonald's hamburger, too. Just help me NOW.

Otter-licious!

It took me a while to post this, but here it is, my Otter necklace! Isn't it bea-u-ti-ful? I get so many compliments on it! Thanks Otter!! I am disappointed in how my hair doesn't look as blonde as it actually IS in this picture. Oh well, it was a mess anyway.

I Feel 21 Again

It was just like old times last night, like we never missed a beat. It was a great 5 hours of girl-talk, coffee and cigarettes. (No alcoholic beverages this time around.) There was not one, but TWO old friends that I met with! The other was a girlfriend I hadn't seen since my wedding day 10 whole years ago! It's definitely Deja Vu month.

On another note, I got a little yelled at by hubby about the peepee incident. The dogs are restricted from the bedroom until further notice. We may possibly "switch" sides on the bed, too. I got grilled about how many times this has happened that he doesn't know about. I plead the 5th and tried to look all innocent and shit. Yeah, like THAT would work.

Out of Control and Over the Edge

Not me this time; the dogs. Well, actually, me too now that I think about it. Louie may have slept his last night in my bed. Sunday night at about 1am, we all curled up (the dogs and I - Jim was still watching T.V.) in the bed. Cozy-cozy. Maggie at the foot of the bed, and Louie on my left next to my belly. We slowly drifted off into zzzz land.

A short while later, I had to roll over because my arm was going numb. I butt-bumped Louie. Startled the shit out of him. He growled at me for such a rude awakening. Maggie attacked him for growling at me. (She's VERY protective and hates violence.) Louie attacked her back, for once. and peed. ON.MY.BED. AGAIN. He didn't just dribble either, he really let that bladder GO. I popped up out of bed and shoved the dogs over the edge of the bed. I was *so* mad. The dogs knew it, too, because they didn't know whether to shit or go blind at this point.

It then occurred to me that I would have to clean this mess up quietly without telling Jim. Why, you ask? Because he was not a big supporter of the dogs sleeping on the bed in the first place, AND it just so happens that Louie peed on Jim's side of the bed. Oops, shhh, don't tell Daddy. My hopes were that Jim would fall asleep in his recliner tonight, as he so frequently does. Oooh, pleeez God, I will get so in trouble. I feel 10 years old all over again.

I have to somehow get the Nature's Miracle and a towel without Jim noticing. Tiptoe, tiptoe. Got it. Dogs still hiding in the corner. Good. After I realized that I grabbed one of Jim's golf towels, I panicked. I cannot use a golf towel to clean up dog pee if I want to live. Now what do I do? That was the only towel in the cupboard. All others are in laundry room on the other side of the house. Crap. The only thing left to do (all the while the pee is soaking into my bed) is use my own clothes. Some old t-shirts - yeah, that'll work.

Now that I have 4 t-shirts that reek of Nature's Miracle and dog urine, what do I do with them? Didn't think of that. I must have stood in the bedroom holding those t-shirts for 10 minutes trying to think of something. Uh-oh. Hear. foot. steps. QUICK! Threw t-shirts, jumped into still-wet-bed. (Ick!!) Jim walks in.

Jim: "What the hell are you doing?"
Me: "Oh, the dogs were fighting."
Jim to dogs: "Get in your crates!" (Dogs run to their crates in the office.)
Jim: "What are you doing with the Nature's Miracle?" (He saw it sitting on the vanity table)
Me: "Um, cleaning up pee?"
Jim: "They peed on the floor too??" (Getting angry)
Me: "Uhhhhhhhhhhh...uh-huh." (Big liar-head)

Shaking his head, Jim leaves the room. WOOHOO! I did it!! I get up and wipe off my soggy ass, put a bunch of old clothes on top of pee-spot and climb back in. Its not so bad. I'll just tell him in the morning when he is half asleep. Yeah, I'll do that.

Couldn't sleep. Gee, I wonder why? Got up and had a cigarette. Talked to Jim for a while like nothing has happened. Decide to go back to bed. Jim says he is going to bed too and follows me down the hallway. Uh-oh. Think! Think! Can't think of anything. Get into bed. Jim changes his clothes and gets ready to crawl in bed. I can't do it. I tell him.

I'll let him calm down before I explain myself.