Aaahh, and also Derrr.

There. was. a. spider. in. the. shower. with. me. this. morning. First, it startled me, THEN, I contemplated whether or not I should scream bloody murder and wake Jim up, or just keep an eagle-eye on the thing and keep my naked body as far away from it as possible. You know, because there is NO FREAKING WAY I'm touching it. I decided since it was a small spider, that Jim would kill me for waking him up over it, so I co-showered with the hideous thing.

Later, while driving to work, Jim called me on my cell phone. I told him about the spider incident. The conversation went like this:

Me: "There was a SPIDER in the shower with me this morning!"
Jim: "Did you kill it? I didn't hear you scream."
Me: "No, I just left it alone."
Jim: "What the hell is wrong with you?"
Me: "I don't know."
(Meanwhile, Jim goes into the bathroom to check out the huge beast I left for him to deal with.)
Jim: "You have GOT to be kidding me! This little, tiny thing? You're right, if you had screamed over this and woke me up, I would have been pissed."

Now, let me give you a little insight into my extreme spider phobia. I grew up in a house with a daylight basement where my room happened to be located. Big, fat, hairy wolf spiders were EVERWHERE. In my clothes, in the towels, in the walls, in the shower. Once, while taking a shower, a bunch of those big hairy fuckers FELL OUT OF THE LIGHT over the shower ONTO MY NAKED BODY. You cannot imagine that kind of horror nor the fact that I learned how to fly that morning. I crashed through the shower door screaming and traumatized for life. You could say that I suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Syndrome. I was also bitten once by a brown recluse spider while camping. My leg got all swollen and it looked like an egg was laid on my calf, and it HURT BAD.

So, you see, me no like spiders. It doesn't matter how big or small they are.

I am also a dumbass. I sold out and signed up for AdSense through Google (hence the ads on my page now) and because I am a little bit of a dolt when it comes to HTML code, I can't quite figure it out. Just be patient with me while I pull my hair trying to figure it out.

Annie Stories

OK SISTER, you asked for it!

Annie is one of my best buds who has been through hell and back with me. We spent A LOT of time together (pretty much every day) between the ages of 19 and 24. Here are some of the things I can remember, which is amazing because we were blind drunk half the time.

Annie got drunk on "Mad Dog" one night at her apartment with me and several other friends. She got sick. I held her over the toilet. She got vomit on my feet. Which made me vomit. Melanie, another friend of ours, was puking in her kitchen sink. Someone else was puking off the porch. Ah, to be young again. That same night, someone had the very bright idea to VIDEO TAPE us, not puking, but singing and acting like total drunk retards. I really wish I could find that video tape. I could put it on the internet. Annie and I were singing the "Brady Bunch" theme song, forgetting half of the words.

Annie had this roommate once that we all hated. Including her. I can't remember her name, but I remember making fun of her "pastel decorations" and the fact that she sang REALLY loud in the bathroom to the "Counting Crows" while getting ready. I think someone may have rubbed her little pack of veggie-snacks in the crack of their ass and then put it back in the refrigerator.

One time while riding the chair lift skiing, Annie and I belted out a little tune that goes like this, "It's so easy to fall in love, it's so eeeeasy to fa-ahl-in love!" over and over and OVER again. You see, we don't like to draw attention to ourselves.

Annie and I would go to Shari's (like Denny's) for like, a gazillion hours, just smoking cigarettes and drinking coffee. One by one, people would join us until there was about 10 people crammed into a booth. This is how Annie met her first husband. (Ahem, I mean fucktard.)

OK, enough for now. More later. Hey, Annie, remember the "Dollar-fucking-25-lighter"? LOL. You rock, girl, and I'm so glad we still hang out! (Even though we're old, boring married couples now.)

Run and Hide!

Guess who is doing a blog now? Yeah, my hubby. I am totally freaked. He is so going to get even with me for all my posts about him. I am going to have to be nice to him and shit now. Go visit and leave a comment so he can feel all egomaniacal. Just so you know, HE LIES. (Just remember this for any future posts about me. Thank you.) I am not responsible for his material. I'm just sayin'.

Behold the Behemoth

Look at this damn thing. Now I won't have any excuses.

I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

Can't. Think. Of. Anything. To. Blog. About.

I guess I should take a picture of the monstrosity we just put up in our garage that renders me powerless against exercise excuses from now on. Our friends gave us this big weight training thingy and bench. I'll post it later when I get home, you know, after I use it, so my husband doesn't kill me for taking away his "husbandland" and turning it into a gym. Hehe. Shit.

Poker Night

Here's the evidence of poker night. I hope I don't get my ass kicked for this picture. (Annie, remember you said it was OK when I said, "I'm blogging this".)

My lovely husband looks like he is squeezing out a turd. Left to right: Amy, Joel, Matt, Jim, Annie. Totally fun night.

Grillin' and Chillin'

Seattle has finally decided to have sunshine, and we had a fabulous weekend of soaking it up. I have to tell you that I make the best kabobs ever in the history of the world, I marinate the meat in red wine and ginger/sesame teriyaki, and then skewer it with prawns, onions, peppers and pineapple that have been brushed with olive oil and black pepper. YUM. It goes well with strawberry margaritas, I might add.

Photos: My grillin' man (we also did ribs), my badass kabobs, my badass strawberry margarita, chillin' Lou, and chillin' Mags. Doesn't get any better than this.

Crop Circles

So, what do y'all think of crop circles? Gimme your theories. Otter, you and I both know it is Chuck Norris, but I want to see what everyone else thinks.

Friday night all to myself!

Hubs is going to a Mariner's game tonight. His friend bought him tickets for his birthday. What to do, what to do. Should I drink margaritas and watch horror movies, or should I do the dishes, laundry and clean out the pantry? Maybe I'll clean while drinking margaritas, yeah, that's it! No telling what the place will look like tomorrow.

For the love of God, go leave him a comment.

Mr. NoRemorse is all whiny about not getting readers and is referring to me as his "only" reader. He is also pissy that I advertised the "Yerdoingitwrong" blog, and not his. Well, here is your great big fat apology and plug, my friend. Happy blogging! Congrats on your engagement!

Corners

Do you ever turn corners too fast and "clip" them with your shoulder, only to fall over and giggle while saying "OW" whilst your coworkers point and laugh?

Yeah, me neither.

I feel hungover but I haven't been drinking.

After a nice 5 days off, it was back to work yesterday. It went OK, but today is sucking big wang so far. Sorry to be negative here, peeps, but not every day in my world is cute fuzzy chicks and sunny sunshine. For starters, I woke up late. Then, while driving to work, a big rock smashed my windshield and it's not like I have the money to fix it. Then, I got to work and found out there are a whole bunch of debits on my bank account that I didn't know about, that will make my account go negative tomorrow. and I don't get paid until Friday. Fuckity fuck, fuck, fuck. I felt the need to cuss, get over it. Guess I need to start praying again. Also, repenting for cussing.

Me, the kid and our little Spring Break.

My stepson is staying with us for part of his Spring Break, and I took a few days off to be with him. So today was our first day together while Jim went off to work at 5 am. What did we do you ask? We slept in. Until noon. Jim called on his lunch break at 11:30 and left, like, 4 messages, 2 on the home phone, 1 on my cell phone and 1 on his son's cell phone. No one answered. The messages went something like this, "Hey! Where the hell are you guys? Hello? Guys? What is going on? Where ARE you? Hey!" Once we stumbled out of bed, I'm all like, I think your dad called, whoops.

Right now, we are alternating between watching movies and playing video games. Go outside in the sunshine? Nah.

Stories about me you won't read here.

One of my best friends just started a blog. I am thrilled, and just a little scared. We go way back and have done some seriously funny things. I'm sure you will enjoy her, she is funnier and even more sarcastic than me. She's "Yerdoingitwrong" at blogspot.

An Amazing Story to Tell

You are all so incredibly sweet to be so concerned about me. In all my life I would have never guessed that complete strangers on the internet could make me feel so good. This past week has been both the worst, and the best, of my life. Because of the human condition, I think we all lose faith in caring, honest and loving people. We become apathetic, complacent and extremely cynical. This post is going to be a little different than what you are used to from me. I have been forever changed by something that has taken place, and even though I am reluctant to put such personal information out there in cyberspace, this is much too important not to share.

Without all of the awful details, it was about a week ago today that my world came off of its axis. I almost lost everything. My husband and I were splitting up, and with an ever-increasing financial disaster looming over my head, it looked like I was going to lose all the things I had worked so hard for as well, including my house. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, I was vomiting about every 30 minutes from the stress, and I wanted to die. I couldn't stop crying either, which is not normal for me. I hardly ever cry. I'm on medication that makes me numb most of the time, but in this case, the meds weren't even strong enough. I was in a sort of a 'shock', I guess. I was going to be alone, broke, devasted and stripped of every last piece of pride I had left. I went to work but couldn't work. I just sat there and stared at my computer screen bawling my eyes out. No one seemed to notice, but I was scared that with all of this stress and uncontrollable emotion, that I would lose my job. Why not? Sure, I might as well lose that too.

I didn't tell very many people about what was happening. Not even my family, at first. I wanted to figure things out in my own head before I upset everybody with the mess that was my life. I had no idea what to do and felt I had nowhere to turn. I was brought to my knees, and I cried out to God.

I didn't even know where to begin in my prayers. I was so overwhelmed. I begged God for some peace, to stop crying so that I could function. I told Him I was sorry for being an idiot and a sorry excuse for a human being. I told God that I already believed in Him, but that I wished I could feel His love. I prayed this prayer sitting on the floor in the dark in the employee bathroom. When I stopped praying, I felt calm. I started to breathe. Slowly. I cleaned myself up and went to my desk.

I went to an internet site I frequent on occasion that has Christian daily devotionals, Bible Prophecy and a forum for prayer requests. (I know what you are thinking, just stay with me here.) You wouldn't know it from reading my blog, but I am actually a very spiritual person. I don't go to church, and most preachers and TV evangelists make my skin crawl, but I have a strong faith. I actually decided to put a prayer request on this forum. I didn't know if anyone would care or pray for me, or even read it, but I did it anyway. I just typed a simple request that asked for prayer for my marriage and my finances. Nothing specific, nothing special. I emailed it from my work email. That was last Tuesday.

That night, my husband and I decided to talk. He had told me previously that he was moving out and was making the preparations to do so, but he wanted to talk before he left. We talked and cried and talked and cried. We love each other. We wanted to make it work, but we didn't know how, or where to start. We have been together for almost 13 years. Exhausted, we went to bed. I called in sick the next day. My husband decided not to leave.

I had also emailed a friend of mine that I knew from a church I used to go to a long time ago. We hadn't talked in over 3 years, but she was so thrilled to hear from me and was very sad about my situation. She asked if she could pray for me and get me on a prayer list at my old church. She also wanted to see me. I needed as much prayer as I could get right now, so I accepted, and was looking forward to seeing my dear friend. I don't know why we lost touch, life just takes different turns, and I don't know what made me think of her. I didn't want her to think I was "using" her or only emailing her because I was distraught. She said she didn't care why I was emailing her, only that she was so I glad I did! This woman is the sweetest person in the entire world, the kind of person you could never say anything bad about, the kind of person you want to know.

Friday morning at work I was finally starting to feel a little better. I didn't know how I was going to pay any of the bills, but at least my other half (Jim) was loving me and staying by my side. I was so grateful to God for this. After lunch, I walked past my work mailbox and noticed something in it. It was a hand-labeled card, or letter or something with a return address from the other side of the country where I have never been, and don't know anyone. There was a man's first name on it, but no last name. I don't know anyone with this name. It was made out to my work, with attention to me. I opened it. It was a card that said God loved me, and that God wanted me to know that, and that someone was praying for me. It also said that God had put it on this person's heart to send this to me even though they had never met me and didn't know anything about me. Something also fell out of the card. It was a money order, made out to me. For a very large sum of money.

I couldn't move for a few minutes, and I am surprised I didn't pass out. A complete stranger had sent me money. A COMPLETE STRANGER. This was not a donation to the Red Cross, or a hurricane relief fund, or a charity. It was for ME. A nobody. This was a huge amount of money, and I started shaking and crying. From the comments inside the card, I deduced that it must be from someone who had read my online prayer request. I felt the Lord all around me. He had answered my prayer, and I felt His love. I physically felt it. I cannot explain it. What this person did, goes beyond normal boundaries. Goes beyond human nature. You don't just send some random person on the internet that kind of money. This is divine intervention, and there is no one, nowhere that will convince me otherwise.

I don't know how long I stood there, but for the first time in my life I knew everything was going to be OK. Somehow. I also knew that someday I would do the same, or more, for someone else. It kind of feels like that "Pay it Forward" movie. Have you seen that? Good flick.

I didn't tell Jim right away. This is something you don't tell someone over the phone. Jim has struggled with his spirituality for a long time now, not knowing exactly what he believes anymore. He has been fighting with the whole "Christianity" thing, the hypocrisy, the fake people, the B.S. that I, too, struggle with. Who doesn't? I called him on the way home and said something like, "You are going to think I have lost it, but I want to ask you a really weird question." He was curious. I asked him if there was anything that could happen in this life, a miracle if you will, that would confirm his beliefs, that would "unconfuse" him about his feelings toward God. His response was, "Huh? What? I don't know." I laughed. I told him to think about it and I would tell him the significance when I got home.

When I got home, Jim was more than a little curious now, he wanted to know what was going on. He said he really couldn't come up with a good answer other than, "If Jesus were to come down here right now and say, "How is it going, Jim?" I handed him the card with the money order still in it. He looked at me funny, and I said, "I have no idea who this is from". He looked at the card and the money order for a long time without saying anything. He finally said, "Is this real?". I said "Yup.". He said, "Oh My God.", I said, "Exactly."

The reality of this situation still has not sunk in for either one of us. It is surreal. My husband is no longer confused about his spirituality. As it turns out, one of the answers he was thinking of to my question was "if some stranger gave us a bunch of money". He didn't want to use that answer though, because he said it sounded "greedy". He swears that was what he was thinking, though. It blew him away. This might all sound stupid to you, but it is big for us. Just call me CrazyDogMama the Jesus-freak, I don't care. Something important has happened to me and I felt the need to share it.

I Love You All

I want to thank everyone who left a comment and/or emailed me to see if I was OK. It means a lot! I am in fact, OK. I have had a crapola week, but it is getting better. I am exhausted mentally and physically, but I truly believe all the prayers are working. Most of you are complete strangers to me, but I feel like I know you anyway. Blogland is great that way. I will be back to my cynical and sarcastic self soon. I may have lost my sense of humor for a couple of days, but no fear, it is still in me.

Taking a Break

I wanted to let all 4 of you know that I probably won't be blogging for a short time. I am going through something in my life, and I have to figure things out. I'll be back when I am feeling a bit more up to par. Email me if you wish. Take care, and don't stop being a CrazyDogMama fan! Please!

St. Patrick's Day

At approximately 7:30 am this morning as I'm commuting to work, my husband calls me on my cell phone and asks, "So, are we getting hammered tonight?" LOL. We have to make sure we keep our priority plans straight.

My Life with Dogs, Part 2

Now, Maggie. My little Magadog. Maggie is much simpler than Louie. She is a happy little dog who is quite possibly the sweetest girl ever. She can totally kick Louie's ass, though.

Maggie
a.k.a. Magadog, Magalope, Mags, Magpie, stinky, freak-a-zoid, and little shit-fucker.

Maggie was such a cute puppy. She had one ear that flopped over, and one that stood up. She was so tiny and impish. We were worried that Louie was going to steamroll her with his big clumsy clod-ass, but when we brought her home, she took off after him! She chased him and he would have to jump up on the couch to get away from her. Maggie totally took over from that point on.

Maggie shit everywhere, every day, for the first year of her life. She would shit in her crate (and all over herself) at least twice a day. That damn dog got so many baths. We called her stinky. She also has Seborrhea, a skin condition that makes her fur oily and smelly. (Louie doesn't smell at all.) So, she is always a mess.

Maggie is a complete and total SPAZ. She is like a squirrel on crack. She is always running and jumping all over the place. She actually runs circles around Louie and slams him against things. She also jumps OVER Louie all the time. It is quite amusing, especially when Louie attempts to catch her, which of course never happens. It is much like Wily Coyote and the Roadrunner.

Maggie turns around in circles when she is excited, we call it twirling. She will twirl to go outside, she will twirl when I am filling her food dish or water bowl and she will twirl when I say, "Let's go bye-bye". When it is treat-time, though, she jumps HIGH up into the air and rams my butt with her head. She will ram your ass too, if you get near the treat jar. The jumping is why we call her Magalope. (Antelope, Magalope, get it?)

Maggie wolfs her food down in, like, 15 seconds. I'm not kidding. Then, immediately afterward, you had BETTER LET HER OUTSIDE QUICK or shit will start flying out of her butt. She gets all panicky if I am out of the room when she is finished, and starts ramming the back door with her head. Perhaps I should get a doggy door, but then we run the risk of all the mountain creatures coming inside.

Maggie loves her toys, and she doesn't destroy them like Louie does. Her favorite toy is a fuzzy purple and black tiger-pig thing we call "Pigger". She carries it everywhere and uses it as a pillow. Humans can touch her toys, but God help Louie if he so much as looks at them. Maggie is downright scary when she is pissed at Louie. She is as quick and fierce as lightning, and Louie just yelps and runs. He is such a vagina.

Maggie loves to cuddle. She will bury herself in you on the couch, the bed, or wherever you are. She wants to be warm, and she will NOT move. Even if you want her to. I could sit on her, and she wouldn't move. She is a fabulous bed partner. She keeps your feet warm. She is always up for love and is eternally grateful for any and all affection. Maggie has never been aggressive or pissy towards her humans, and she HATES fighting. When Jim and I are in an argument, she barks at us. She wants everything peaceful. Sweet, sweet, sweet little thing she is.

Maggie is an attention-whore. Don't think you can ignore her. It's impossible. She will back up into your hands for a petting or lick you until you acknowledge her appropriately. Maggie is also FUCKING LOUD. She has this extremely high-pitched squeal-bark thing she does when the doorbell rings. You cannot shut her up, and it is worse than when you set off the house fire alarm. (Having both the alarm going off and Maggie squealing at the same time makes you want to kill yourself.) People are always like "OH MY GOD SHE IS ULTRASONIC". It can be very embarrassing, but she is so darn cute when she is looking up at you wagging her tail, that you soon forget about it.

Maggie is the life of the party on the 4th of July. While Louie is hiding behind the toilet from the fireworks noise, Maggie is in the back yard running around in big wide circles, barking non-stop at the pretty sparkly lights. She is very happy, and very excited. She will ram the door until you let her out and will stay out there all night long. I have to go pick her up and drag her inside to rest and get a drink of water, so she doesn't have a heart attack.

We love our Magadog. Once, when she was really sick and the vet put her on antibiotics for 6 months, I would periodically cry while waiting tables thinking about her. I got really good tips when I explained this to my customers, especially if they were "dog people".

It is true, I have two dogs of the same breed, but two dogs that are polar opposites. They are both so full of personality that every day is a new adventure. You really never know what is going to happen next. I wouldn't want it any other way. My kids, Louie and Maggie.

My Life with Dogs, Part 1

Besides the last post, I haven't been dog-blogging lately. Its time. Now that I am home more (not working two jobs), I have really had time to pay attention to the little furry fuckers. It is NOW that I have chosen to attempt to explain them to you in all their quirky glory. Louie will be first, then Maggie on the next post.

Louie
a.k.a. Lou, Lou-dog, Lou-Master, Lou-Bear, Bear, Boo, Boo-Bear, Assbag, dumbass, fucker and fuzzbutt.

Louie is an island. He is complex, cynical, highly intelligent, clumsy, adorable, stubborn as hell, moody and funny. I love him so much it hurts.

Louie will pretty much eat anything, and he is totally preoccupied with anything edible. He especially loves to put his face in my dinner plate when I am eating on the coffee table. (Much to my chagrin.) If you accidently leave any food on the coffee table, you can just forget about it. Louie 'checks' the coffee table every morning upon waking. Louie can be on the other side of the yard, or totally asleep in his crate, but if you open the refrigerator, Louie will be on you like a fly on shit. If you make him "go lay down" and stop begging, he will lay facing you, staring a hole through you with every bite you take. This drives Jim batshit.

Louie likes to ignore me on purpose because he knows how much it pisses me off. I like to lay on the couch and watch TV, and I like to have my furries lay with me to keep me warm. I will call him and call him and call him. It is though I do not exist. Sometimes I have to FORCE HIM to lay with me and he will commence immediately to looking as though someone has licked all of the red off of his candy with his ears out sideways instead of straight up. (This is what I call "Yoda Ears".) Once I give up and let him go, he will either lay beside the couch or wander down the hallway into his crate, sulking. If I get up, however, he follows me everywhere and will invariably plunk down beside me wherever I end up, even if it is on the toilet. I never pee alone. He wants to be NEAR me, but not touching.

When I take a shower, Louie plops his two front paws on top of the tub, moves the shower curtain back with his nose and watches me. He will lick my legs if I let him. He is a total perv.

Louie is extremely vocal. Louie play-growls like he is possessed. He barks for no reason. When he wants your attention, he will sway from side to side on his front paws while sitting, then whine and 'talk' to you. He SOUNDS like a Pitbull, but he runs from spiders. In the morning, if he believes you have slept long enough, he will bark in your face and "dig" your blankets off of you.

Do not disturb Louie when he is sleeping or eating. He has a total hissy-fit.

Louie gets VERY excited around new people. He loves people, especially kids. Watch out, though, because he head-butts in all of his excitement. When I come home from work, Louie licks my face and jumps on me for about a half an hour. THEN, he will ignore me.

If you do anything to upset Louie, he will spite-piss right in front of you. (Like, every time I give him a bath.) Louie pees like a bitch, he never lifts his leg. He also looks really funny when he poops, it's like he can barely balance. Then, when he is finished pooping, he "pumps" his tail to get every last dingleberry out.

Louie will play with Maggie, but he is slow and clumsy, and can't take a corner to save his life due to the fact that his back legs are too long. Its pitiful. He also tries to hump Maggie all the live-long day, but she won't have it. He gets all frustrated and barks at her.

Louie is a homophobe. When you stick a thermometer up his butt, he SCREAMS IN HORROR. He also wails and carries on to no end when I clip his nails. I'm sure the neighbors think I'm skinning him alive when he makes these noises.

Louie will disembowel any toy given to him just outside of 30 seconds.

Louie likes to steal my underwear and hide it in his crate.

Louie likes to find good smells in the yard and roll on them. He rolls on insects, frogs, cat shit, vomit and old, rotting grass.

Louie is constantly running into things like flowerpots, kitchen cabinets, the coffee table legs, me, the fence, etc. He is not blind, nor does he have cataracts. He just doesn't pay attention, and he trips over himself.

When I am crying, Louie licks my tears.

If you go to pet Louie on the head, it will ALWAYS end up as a belly-scratch. He will totally manipulate you.

Louie "huffs" and "sighs" just like a human.

When Louie is scared, he "hugs" you. Either that, or he hides behind the toilet.

Louie freaks out over flies.

Last, but not least, Louie smiles.