Tomorrow Is Another Day...

Walk With Personality, Bark With Personality

I'm not sure why it came as such a surprise to me that much like people, dogs all have VERY DIFFERENT personalities.  And not just in terms of their breed's traits, but some are silly, some are serious, some crave attention, some just want to eat your shoes.  Some eat quickly, others can have a full bowl left out all day and not finish it.  All of them make you wonder what exactly is going on in that space between their ears.Things got off to a pretty rocky start when I brought Jack home from a Little Rock animal shelter in 2005.  First, there was the shocking revelation from the vet's office when I went to pick him up from being SPAYED that he was a boy, not a girl, so they neutered him.  Then he got crazy sick with approximately 14 different worms, an eye infection, and a nasty case of distemper that came pretty close to killing him.  But we pulled through, and in short order he became my most favorite little buddy.He quickly turned from a shy, frightened, shell of a puppy, to the loudest, most boisterous animal you can imagine.  We suspect that he sustained some neurological damage from his battle with distemper, so he'll never win any brainiac awards (which always surprises people when I tell him that he's part border collie--but we think he's also got some chow in him, and those dogs be DUMB), but he is just so sweet, and goofy you can't help but love him.

When Jack goes on walks, he is at his most focused and determined.  He marches forward, looking back only to make sure you're still behind him.  If we are walking on the grass, and he can see a path or a road, he makes a beeline toward it--he hates a walk with no direction and has no time for your typical dog behaviors of smelling objects on the side of the road or even worse, taking breaks to get pats.  He is incredibly loving, and all you have to do is look at him to get his tail thumping, but it takes some convincing to squeeze any cuddles out of him.  He prefers to lie down across your feet or lean against your leg to show his affection.

He's our special snowflake, but we love him.Ellie, in true second child fashion has far fewer photos from her early life with us.  Whereas Jack had multiple photo shoots each day from the time he walked through my door at six months old, this is the earliest shot I can find of Ellie.  She joined our family when she was just a little four-month-old baby, and in this photo she's six months.

I got her from a different shelter, and fortunately didn't have to deal with any life threatening illnesses, but oh, this girl has a little bit of the devil in her.  For many months I wondered if I had made a huge mistake.  The first thing she did upon entering the apartment was walk up to Jack, sniff him, then started a tussle that ended up with this ~20 pound girl pinning his 40 pound butt to the ground.  She made it clear from the start who was in charge, and nothing has really changed since.Ellie is incredibly stubborn and independent--we can't decide if she's more like a teenage girl or a cat.  She refuses to get out of bed to go outside in the morning until she's good and ready.  She spends her day rotating through the various sunny spots of the house.  She loves a good cuddle and will happily pounce in your lap, but you have to make it seem like her idea.  She has been carrying on a torrid love affair with a succession of tennis balls throughout her life, and when Ellie goes for a walk, it's more like a thorough investigation of the neighborhood in which she leaves no stone unsniffed or leaf unpeed on.  If she's not sprawled in a patch of sunlight, she can be found curled up, sleeping in a tight little ball and should you dare to disturb her, you will get the most scathing look imaginable.

And if all of that wasn't enough to convey their personalities and relationship with one another, this picture sums it up pretty perfectly.
An unsuspected nose bite is worth a thousand words.

Puppy Love

I just have to say, thank goodness for Drew Alleman, Brad Wing and cell phones that magically know what time it is so I don't have to fully understand how the time change works.  The LSU game was incredible.  We were so evenly matched with Alabama, that both teams spent the entire game locked in battle and it came down to field goals every time.  Way to go defense.  For those who didn't watch, with about :40 seconds left in the 4th quarter, it became evident that Nick Saban wanted the game to go into overtime--I don't know enough about football to fully understand why, but regardless, after four quarters of playing their butts off, both teams had only managed to score two field goals resulting in a 6-6 tie.

Alabama had the ball first, ended up trying for a field goal, and their kicker who is surely on unemployment today after a horribly botched game, missed.  LSU got it back, ran it for the first three downs, then went for the 3 points and SCORED!!!  It was amazing.  Alabama fans cried bourbon tears all the way home, and LSU remains on top for another week.

 

Road trip cuddles. Jack is the big black blob on the left, Ellie is the skeptical blonde on the right.

Segue.  Topic change.  It has occured to me recently that while I used to feature my adorable puppies here on a regular basis, I talk about them so little now that more recent readers might not even realize that I have the most amazing dogs in the entire universe.  Being that I have to come up with something to blog about EVERY DAMN DAY in November, I decided Sundays will be devoted to Angela's best friends.

For those of you not in the know, both Jack and Ellie are dogs of unknown heritage--a special holiday blend, if you will--that I adopted from shelters when I was living in Little Rock, Arkansas.  Jack came into my life when he was around 6 months old, and Ellie when she was 4 months old, and I've had Jack for 6 years and Ellie for about 5 1/2.  They made the move with me to Washington when I went to live with Colby and instantly ditched me as the coolest person ever and became completely infatuated with their new dad.  They still like me just fine, but if it came down to a choice about who they were going to save if we fell down two separate wells... I'm not liking my chances.

So, suffice it to say, deployments are always hard on them.  Ellie spent the whole day before Colby left, moving from one pile of suitcases to another, glaring at us warily and Jack still camps out by the front door every day around the time Colby typically comes home from work.  Sure, it's hard explaining deployments to kids, but try explaining it to dogs that have a combined understanding of about six words--most of which involve food.

Little Orphan Puppies

In a shocking twist worthy of a Twilight Zone episode (IT'S A COOKBOOK!!!) Colby got a phone call mere moments after I published my last post telling him that he was being honored with yet one more week of living on base.  (I know that "living on base" sounds kind of weird, but due to the nature of the mission, I really can't give any more information, just know he isn't living there because he snores a lot at night!)

We headed to the grocery store to pick up a few things, and while we were in the dog shampoo aisle, I spotted a new-fangled invention for grinding down dog nails rather than chomping them off with clippers.  My psycho dog Jack is absolutely neurotic about his feet.  He really doesn't like people touching them at all, and he absolutely hates having them groomed in any way.  The vet once told us that they would have to put him to sleep (like, temporarily, not euthanasia) in order to trim his nails and the little feathery hairs between his foot pads.  He's also INCREDIBLY STRONG.  Between the two of us, we've got about 6 times his body weight, and he is still entirely capable of twisting free from our iron grips.  And plus, we're pushovers and hate it when he cries.  So, his nails quite frequently reach talon-like levels of danger, and it was long past time for something to be done.

I decided that obviously the new-fangled grindy tool would be absolutely perfect and Jack would totally love it.  I have difficulty setting realistic expectations.  So, the moment we got home, we headed out to the back porch black, fluffy dog in tow, and set about to beautify his claws.  Jack immediately knew what we were up to and went into full fledged seizure activity, determined that we would not get our hands on his paws.  We tried everything--flinging our bodies on top of his, holding all of his appendages, speaking soothing words, hollering our heads off--I swear, even Cesar Milan wouldn't be able to get near this animal's feet.

After about 45 minutes, we had managed to get one set of nails ground down to manageable levels, and we were all psychologically scarred for life.  Jack was attempting to hide under an open shelf that offers absolutely no concealment, Colby's little bleeding heart was broken from the pain of repeatedly assaulting our dog, and I had run out of cookies with which to bribe him.  We decided that one foot was good for one day and headed inside for a stiff drink.

I spent Friday afternoon and evening with Colby on base, then Saturday I had a baby shower and a footloose and fancy-free evening out with some of my girlfriends.  The baby shower went a bit long, and when I got home I tried to spend some quality time with my beasts knowing that they'd be alone for another long chunk of time that night.  Let me tell you, quality time with your animals is a challenge when it's hot as Hades outside and one of them has absolutely no interest in playing with toys.  I fed them early, gave them plenty of outside time, then headed downtown for a little lowlevel debauchery.

A friend and I had decided to split a cab back to her house, and I spent the night there to sleep off the various wine and vodka-based imbibery that had occured over the course of the evening.  I had every intention of waking up early to get home and rescue my dogs from their night of solitude, but then I didn't and made it home around eleven the next morning.  They had been shockingly good, with the only mess I found being a bit of shredded tissue paper left over from the shower gift wrapping session.

But I once more spent a few hours of time with them (and admittedly more than a couple of those hours were spent with our eyes closed), and then left once again to visit Colby in prison--I mean, on base.  They've been good so far, but I'm going to keep checking my internet history to ensure that they're not searching Craigslist or adoption sites for new people who actually live at home.

Will you be our mummy?

It's Like Thunder, Lightning

We haven't gotten much rain over the past couple of months, but last night and early this morning the skies over Charleston set out to make up for the deficit.  Colby is living on base this week, so I spent the evening with him, then drove home around midnight, happy to see that the streets were wet and we'd obviously gotten at least an inch or so of rain.

I got home, fed my starving dogs, then fell asleep within minutes.  Just a few hours later, I was awakened by a lightning strike that lit up my whole bedroom and a loud crack of thunder.  I rolled over in bed, and what to my wondering eyes should appear, but two big brown eyes in a terrified face belonging to a certain yellow puppy dog who lives in my house and is NOT allowed upstairs.  With her short hair, the tags on her collar generally give her away when she is nearby, but her fear of thunderstorms seems to give her the ability to slink up a flight of stairs and right up to my sleeping face without making a peep.

I knew I couldn't let her stay upstairs, but I felt awful about sending her back down knowing that she was scared out of her wits, so I hauled myself out of bed, and planted myself downstairs, collecting Jack who was bouncing off the walls with a lightning and thunder induced mania.  We settled ourselves on the floor, Ellie in my lap and Jack laying next to me and intermittently making a barking and bounding circuit of the room.

I've always liked the nice rumbly thunderstorms that the South is so adept at producing, but this storm was a whole other animal.  The house was shaking with each crack of thunder, and my living room felt like a discotheque with the lightning providing the strobe light effect.  But then, without any warning there was a crack of thunder that I swear split the sky in half, and I was immediately thrust back in time, the memory of the cruise ship mishap sweeping over me.  I felt like the room was listing back and forth, and the thunder that continued to rumble sounded exactly like the waves crashing against the side of the ship and up over our porthole.

It probably only lasted for a few seconds, but my heart was pounding, and I just hung onto Ellie and kept whispering "It's okay, it's okay, it's okay".  It was seriously one of the weirdest feelings I have ever had.  I knew I was sitting on the floor in my house in South Carolina, but my brain felt exactly like it was back in the middle of a massive Mediterranean storm.

After about an hour, the worst of the storm passed, and I made sure the dogs were relaxed and in their beds before I headed back upstairs and back to sleep.  This morning the skies are still grey and I'm sure the grass is very happy.  I was able to sleep just fine, but had to have a grim little laugh this morning.  Of course, only I would go on a romantic Mediterranean cruise and come back with a case of post-traumatic stress disorder.  Angela, this is your life.

Oh What A Week

Wel, last week was such a jam-packed crazy bunch of days, and now I find myself exactly back where I was last Saturday.  Colby finally got home from a three-week long trip last Saturday and on Sunday his parents came in town for a few days to see the Charleston sights and help us out with projects around the house.  We finally got around to installing a dog door on the porch, a microwave over the range, tore out some old ugly plants and put in some new lilies and dahlias, and generally ate our way around the city.

It's been a challenge teaching the dogs how to use the dog door.  Jack will go through it on his own about 50% of the time, but Ellie will only go through if she sees Jack do it first or if you lift the flap for her so that she can see through it.  I'm trying to step back and let them figure the door out on their own now that they've been in and out through it a number of times with assistance, but mostly they end up circling the porch unable to figure out how to get outside, or stuck out in the yard, staring at the screen door.  This is my entertainment.

I started the South Beach Diet a couple of weeks ago in an effort to improve my diet which had deteriorated to X-tra Cheddar Blast Goldfish for lunch and cereal for dinner and hopefully lose a couple of pounds of fat that are covering my super sweet Jillian Michaels muscles.  The diet went well for the first week and I lost about three pounds, all of which were returned to my butt as I totally fell off the wagon and ate every carb and high calorie item I came across while my inlaws were in town.

It was a fun week, but now things are back to "normal" as Colby is once more out of town on a trip, I'm restarting my diet, and instead of planning an itinerary of Charleston attractions, I'm working on a lesson plan about place value in math.

Hm, this post is so uninteresting, I just got distracted by the Weather Channel.  Here's hoping you're having a significantly more exciting weekend than I am!

A Perfect Day

This past Saturday was one of those perfect days.  A day where you are just productive enough to feel a sense of accomplishment and just lazy enough to feel completely relaxed.  The only way it could have been better was if Colby were here, but frankly, if his presence were required to make me happy, I'd be pretty miserable 95% of the time.

I started the day by sleeping until the sunshine streaming through the windows wouldn't let me sleep anymore, then began my day with an appointment with Jillian Michaels.  Once she'd kicked my flabby butt for about an hour, I got dressed, spent some time organizing the office, did a little homework and a little writing and then decided that the rest of the day was far too beautiful to be spent sitting inside.  So I set up camp on a lounge chair in the backyard with my dogs, my book and Words With Friends.

Can I just tell you?  I absolutely adore my house.  In all of the stress of house hunting, our biggest concern was that we wouldn't find a house we loved as much as our Washington house.  We even joked about how nice it would be if we could just put our old house on a trailer and drive it east.  Obviously, that wasn't an ACTUAL possibility, but oh, how glad I am that we did not do that.

I set up my chair facing the house, the better to sun myself, and at times I'd find myself just gazing around the backyard with goo-goo eyes.  The Bradford Pear is in full bloom, if you squint and look in exactly the right direction it looks like we have a completed picket fence, they hydrangeas are sprouting leaves, there was just enough of a breeze to ripple the pond and cormorants were swimming back and forth in search of lunch.  I've envisioned the ideal location for a patio off the screened porch, thought about the perfect patio furniture and am dreaming of a long Southern summer, just like the ones I used to know, spent out in the yard.

Yes, it's a small dream, but our old backyard was so tiny that every time I went outside, it felt as though seven neighbors were all staring down at me, observing my every movement.  Now we only have one neighbor, our yard is about five times the size of our old one and if I dare to wear my swimsuit to soak up the sun, I won't feel like I'm performing a strip tease for the local gentlemen.  I'm in heaven!  Although with all of the Jillian I've been doing, at least I could feel like I was putting on a pretty good show.

Anyway, I know how boring it is to hear someone gush about their happiness and rhapsodize about landscaping plans, so I promise to come up with something tragic and/or dramatic in short order, but for now, I'm just going to revel in my perfect Saturday--sunburn and all!

Down the Rabbit Hole

It has been quite an eventful week here at Chez Blackwood.  We've been here, there and everywhere and life doesn't show much sign of slowing down.

After I left you last, we dropped off the pups at the House of Disease and headed down to Florida to visit some friends and see the shuttle launch.  Unfortunately, the clouds didn't cooperate and at 4:14 am they made the decision to cancel the launch.  This was a pretty big bummer, but we loaded ourselves back in the car and started the drive back to our friend's house.  When I glanced over at a red light and notice that Colby's blinks had become extremely extended, I made the decision that I needed to be driving.  If anyone is going to kill me, I want it to be me, you know?  So, we got home around 7:15 in the morning and all collapsed into bed for a pre-Super Bowl nap.

The Super Bowl was amazing to watch, made even more so by the fact that I was able to find lambic at the liquor store next door, so I could pretend to drink beer with everyone else!  It was an incredible feeling to see the Saints win, and I think all of us Louisianians are still having a really difficult time believing that actually happened.  We managed to settle ourselves in for another short winter's nap, then woke up again at 3 am to drive to the Jacksonville beach in the hopes of seeing the shuttle launch in the distance.  And I can't lie--I wasn't all that hyped up for the launch, but I have to admit, seeing that shuttle blast up into space and bend around the horizon was awe inspiring.  We could even see the two rocket boosters drop off the shuttle and fall back to the ocean.  Crazy cool.

We got back home all in one piece later that day and picked up the dogs, who seemed fine at the time, but since then, poor sweet Jack seems to have incubated a lovely case of kennel cough.  He's been through much worse, so for now I'm just keeping an eye on him to see if it gets any worse over the next day or two.  Everything I've read says to keep infected dogs isolated from other dogs, but that's really just unrealistic in our house, so we'll also watch Ellie and hope that she doesn't come down with a case.

This weekend was another one filled with fun.  We celebrated a friend's birthday on Friday with good food and strong margaritas, then Valentine's Day rolled around and we decided to stay in and make our own delicious dinner.  Chef Colby started the parade of gourmet delights with homemade bruschetta, then followed up with bacon wrapped filet mignon with goat cheese and a balsalmic vinegar reduction, garlic and basil penne, and grilled asparagus.  It... was... fantastic.  The only thing that could have possibly been better in a restaurant is the fact that someone else did the dishes!

Last night I went to my first wine shop book club meeting and enjoyed a glass of merlot and wonderful conversation with some great ladies then came home to not one, but TWO king cakes.  And of course we've been watching the Olympics and I am completely flummoxed by the figure skating scoring system, but was thrilled to see Shen and Zhao win after hearing their beautiful story.  Part of what I love about the Olympics is the joy of rooting for the home team, but also the support and love you begin to feel for competitors from other countries.

This week will be spent prepping for my parents to visit next week and my weekend trip to Atlanta to visit my dear, sweet friend Melissa who I haven't seen since my New York City bachelorette party.  I usually take the couple of days before my parents get here to frantically clean and organize the house, but since I won't be here I'll have to trust that Colby doesn't cause too much destruction while I'm gone.

I hope you all enjoyed your weekend, and don't forget to indulge today on Mardi Gras!  Drink an Abita, eat some Zapps and then proceed to feel immensely guilty and attempt to atone for all of you indiscretions over the next 40 days!

Ennui

Every night is like the opening scene to Bridget Jones Diary around here these days.  Messy hair, pajamas, bottle of wine, yes sometimes there's even some random singing, much to Jack's chagrin and Ellie's embarrassment.  She is such a teenager.

I didn't realize how accustomed I had become to Colby being around after we spent 37 whole days together during the holidays and the move.  That might be an all-time record.  Now that he's been gone for ten days, I feel like it's been at least half a millenium.  I'm sticking with my plan of getting out of the house on a regular basis, but it has been a few days and I'm starting to go a little stir crazy.  Now that it's not so bloody cold outside, I think I'll take the dogs on a walk to explore the neighborhood just so I can see something other than the inside of the refrigerator.

I've been applying for jobs, but so far the only responses I've received are suspiciously spammy in nature.  Correct me if I'm wrong, but it's weird to require a credit report to be run prior to scheduling a job interview, yes?  I'm supposed to start back at school at the beginning of March, which I think will give me a much needed sense of direction, but until then, I'm left to my own devices.

I did find a book club to join, but won't have time to finish the book before the first meeting, so I'll be starting in February.  It's at a wine shop.  Is that not the most perfect marriage of entertainments?  I also found a tea group on meet-up.com, but it doesn't appear that they've had any actual meet-ups yet, so I don't know if that will pan out.

I feel a bit like I'm just twisting in the wind though.  I'm running out of projects around the house that I feel comfortable doing on my own, so I'm sort of in a holding pattern there.  I should really start back running or resume my meetings with Jillian Michaels, but I'm in that pre-working out phase before you've established a routine where you just can't convince yourself to put on a pair of tennis shoes and get to it.  That and my tennis shoes hurt my feet.

Ah well, it could be worse.  I know Colby will be home for at least a little while in just three weeks, so it's not as bad as it could be.  I mean, he could be gone for four months over the summer and fall!  Oh wait, he will be...  Back to our regularly scheduled Shiraz and chick flicks.

Angela vs Wild

This weekend was one full of adventures in the great outdoors, and I'd just like to give a public shout-out to Washington weather.  Thanks for being so damn awesome!  I know all of the locals here don't appreciate you, and after spending 7 months bitching about the cold and snow are now bitching about the heat and the sun, but just know, there is one Southern transplant that is happier than she's been in more than 2 years of living here.

The Park

While I was off gallivanting around Montana, Colby was exploring the area surrounding our neighborhood that is generally inaccessible by foot due to a giant fence paralleling the railroad track.  Somehow, the fence was mangled and there was just enough space for a person and a couple of dogs to sneak through to the other side.  And lo and behold, the world that was opened up to us included a pretty snazzy dog park, complete with ponds, a walking track, and giant grasses for dogs to hide behind.

It was a great adventure for all of us, and the only snafu occurred when we got back to the fence by the railroad track and the city had decided to take that day to fix the gap in the fence.  Of course.  So, we all low crawled through a gap between the ground and the bottom of the fence.  Finally, all of that Air Force training paid off!

The Lake

Saturday was another beautiful day, and we were thrilled to get an invite to head out to Lake Washington on our friends' boat.  We joined Sarah and Andrew, as well as another fun couple, and spent almost 7 hours bobbing around on the beautiful blue water beneath the beautiful blue skies.  I was in heaven soaking up the sun and even pushed my own personal boundaries when I worked myself up into actually getting into the water AND riding a jet ski.

I know swimming in practically pristine lake water doesn't SEEM like that huge of an accomplishment, but along with heights, spiders, roaches, snakes and pretty much everything ever, getting into open water above my knees is a pretty huge fear of mine.  And I define open water as any body of water that I couldn't feasibly cross in approximately 20 seconds or see the bottom.  So, you know, way to conquer those fears, Ang!  And unfortunately there is no photographic evidence of my white knuckled fear/elation as we bounced over waves, plunged through boat wakes, and ultimately toppled over face first into the water on the jet ski.  Or maybe that should be "fortunately."  I left the wake-boarding to the pros, preferring to keep my knees in their current functional state, and instead spent most of my time dreaming of owning one of those gorgeous water front homes.

The Mountain

After taking Sunday off to recover from the lake, on Monday we headed down to Mt. Rainier to hike out to Spray Park.  Oh my God, I am so sad that I didn't realize that park existed until yesterday, because it is by far the most beautiful meadow I have ever seen.  The hike wasn't easy--a little over 7 miles round-trip including our frolicking through the meadows, getting up to 6400 feet after gaining 1600 feet in elevation--but the pay off was so worth it, and the beautiful sights along the way kept us going.

The hike started off at Mowich Lake where we sun-screened up, took the final opportunity to use a semi-real restroom, and crammed as much water into our backpack as we could.

Within just a bit over a mile and a half, we had already crossed multiple babbling brooks, had magnificent views of Mt. Rainier, and taken a break at the most spectacular waterfall I've ever seen.

When we finally reached Spray Park, I did a little jig of joy, took a mini bath in the lake, and we spent about ten minutes working with the self timer so we could get once shot with both of us and the mountain.  I guess one good reason to have a kid is so you'll always have a little photographer around.  Anyway, these pictures can't possibly do the beauty of the wildflowers and ponds and scenery justice, but it was such a peaceful experience.  And since it was a Monday, we felt like we had the place all to ourselves.

Of course, after 3.5 miles trekking up and downhill, we had another 3.5 miles of up and downhill ahead of us to get back to the parking lot, and my legs felt like wobbly jello by the time we finally collapsed in the car.  But I'm thrilled, and a little proud to reveal that after a good night's sleep I don't feel the slightest bit sore today.  I'm thinking all of my workouts of late are actually proving to be somewhat effective!

This week I will be busily trying to do three weeks worth of homework over three days, preparing dinners in advance for our upcoming visitors, and then welcoming Colby's parents for a week of visiting while we frantically entertain them and try to finish all of our Hawaii preparations.  I think I can, I think I can, I think I can...

Resigning From Life

BLEEEAAAAARRRRRGHHHHH!!!!!!

I quit.  Consider this my two week notice.  I am turning in my resignation letter to the Department of Living Amongst Society and moving to a hut on the beach in an as yet undiscovered island.  I'm not leaving a forwarding address.  I go alone.  Don't come looking for me, because I am DONE.

I don't want to clean up after a destructive dog who will pull items out of thin air if there are none within reach that he can rip to shreds in my absence and then prance about proudly when I return home.  I don't want to clean the bathroom, wash the dishes, do the laundry, vacuum the floor only to have to do it again in what seems like mere hours.

I don't want to be a law abiding citizen, vote in elections, throw my garbage in the trash can, give money to causes that need it more than I do, and be a generally good person, only to be given a $340 ticket for not registering my car in the state of Washington, when I had no clue that I was supposed to.  I'm not registered to vote here, I don't claim residency here, I'm a military nomad and I'm sorry you Office-Space-Boss-Looking-Asshole Cop, I have never been made aware of this rule.  I'm not claiming that ignorance of the law is the perfect excuse, but how easy would it have been to have given a friendly warning and gone about your day?  You can take your, "Have a nice day, ma'am," and shove it up your power-tripping, quota-filling rear end.

I'm tired of being tired.  I'm sick of exhausted kids who treat me and each other like crap and make me dread the day I see two lines on a pregnancy test.  I'm flummoxed by my suddenly shitty gas mileage that makes me suspect a gremlin is sneaking into my garage at night and siphoning the gasoline out of my car.  I wish the damn cd player in my car would stop overheating and spitting cds out at me with a snotty "Check CD" message on the display every time I try to listen to something other than our lame radio stations.

I'm so over feeling negative.  I want the fucking sun to shine.  I want to wake up and feel excited about another day.  I'm sick of being a single wife.  I'm worn down from the constant stream of "what ifs" running circles around my brain about where we're going to live this time next year, how we'll sell our house without losing our shirts, whether or not we'll be able to get another mortgage, and what furniture or precious family mementos will be destroyed in the move.

I'm just so ready to check out.

But I can't quit.  This is my life.

As shitty as it makes me feel sometimes.  I love my retarded dogs.  This job is the first one I've ever had where I feel like maybe I'm making a difference.  I know I need to just suck it up and have a little faith that God won't dish out more than we can take.  The military infuriates me on a daily basis, but it has also been very good to us over the years.  As for the cop and the ticket situation... well, I tried, but I can't find the silver lining there.

I just want to escape from it all.  But then I guess everyone does, and we just keep riding this completely absurd roller coaster of life.  In the meantime, thank you Jesus for wine, carefully cultivated savings accounts, Gossip Girl, and giant, liquid puppy dog eyes that just won't allow you to stay angry for too long.

But I'd still rather be in Capri.

Monday, Monday

Friday night I had the last of a box of Strawberry Frosted Mini-Wheats and a bowl of popcorn for dinner.  Saturday night was Kraft Mac & Cheese from the blue box (with extra cheese thrown in, quelle surprise).  Sunday was barbecued chicken marinated in lime juice, soy sauce, and garlic, on a bed of salsa and Mexican rice, topped off with a layer of melted cheese.

Guess which night Colby was home?

He pulled into the driveway a little after 9 o'clock on Saturday night, just as I was reaching the exciting conclusion of Bunny Lake is Missing.  I was alerted to his arrival by Ellie leaping up from a dead sleep and then hurtling at the speed of light toward the front door before Colby's keys were even in the lock.  He unloaded all of the presents he'd brought back (eight or nine bottles of wine, pasta alla caprese from the chow hall in Germany, and a Sicilian trinacria) and then we curled up on the couch so that I could finish my movie and Colby could laugh at it.

Yesterday was spent absolutely rooted to the couch, cuddled up under a blanket.  I opted not to do a pictorial review of my weekend today, because it would look something like this:

Thrilling, eh?

And that was how we celebrated the one year anniversary of our engagement.  Is it safe to say that the honeymoon is over?  No, I kid, I kid.  Of course it would sound lovely if I told you that we spent the day gazing soulfully into one another's eyes, taking turns reciting love poems over a plate of chocolate covered strawberries while a symphony of angels sang a chorus from the rooftops.  But in reality, curled up on the couch watching tv is exactly the way I always wished that we could spend our weekends together when we were living on opposite sides of the country.  So really, the honeymoon has only just begun!

Anyway, today I'm back at work and oh my goodness, does it ever feel like a Monday.  I don't know how it works out that whenever I decide to wake up just a little bit early so I can actually brush my hair, rather than just throwing it up in a ponytail, I walk outside and it's cold, windy, and rainy.  I think I'm finally beginning to understand why people around these parts just don't much bother with hair and makeup.

(Completely off topic, but is Google Reader updating incredibly slowly for anyone else?  It's been taking my posts 3 or 4 hours to show up in my reader, and I don't know if it's something I'm doing or if it's just a feed thing.)

Failing Pretty Much Everyone Around Me

Coworkers.  Never before have so many people at work commented on projects that they'll need my help with "soon" or "in the future".  Never in my time here have people made me feel like a such a necessary cog to this operation.  Never have I felt so incredibly guilty about something that hasn't even happened yet.  I'm struggling mightily with the decision to wait another week and a half before giving my notice, because I feel like such a horrible person each time I nod and smile as someone commits me to a project down the road.  But Colby and I still have to sit down and examine our finances more closely, and he doesn't get home for another week.  I know I need to wait, but every day I feel a little bit worse.

Fellow bloggers.  I'm supposed to be guest posting for Bre today while she's in London, but I can't figure out her instructions for logging into her blog.  It seems like such a simple task, no?  Yes, that's what I thought too, so I didn't test it out before she left.  Now I'm sitting with a drafted entry and lacking the brain cells that are necessary to understanding how to post it.  I know I'm not really all that important, and her blog will probably survive without me, but I hate to promise something and then not follow through.

Friends.  I owe phone calls to pretty much every single friend in my address book, but each evening, I sit down on the train and opt to fall asleep rather than dialing the phone.  Seriously, what the heck is wrong with me that I HATE talking on the phone so much?  Why can't we all just correspond by email, text messages, and smoke signals?  I miss my friends, and love them, and would so much rather just hang out than come up with riveting phone conversation for 30 minutes.  Why do they have to live so far away?

Jack and Ellie.  You want to go for a walk?  You want to play after dinner?  You want to lay on the floor and get your bellies rubbed?  Well, how about you just sit here next to the couch so that I can half-heartedly scratch your head while zoning out to the Pussycat Dolls Present: Girlicious.  Well, okay, I guess I'll feed you your dinner.  To everyone out there who seems to think I'm ready for kids?  Jack and Ellie would like to voice their vehement disagreement.

My Eye. I seem to have gotten some tiny grain of something stuck between my eye and my eyelid, and no amount of blinking, flushing with cool water, or forced tears will do anything about evacuating it from the premises.  It huuuuuuuurts!

Kind of A Crappy Day So Far

Do you know what is a super not fun thing to wake up to on a morning that is not Friday when your charming and lovable husband has just flown the coop for a two week deployment?  Dog poop on the carpet by the foot of the stairs.  And over by the coffee table.  And next to the kitchen table.  And next to the other side of the kitchen table.

My house smells like crap.  I didn't have time to clean it this morning, so I wiped up as much as I could and will just have to spend the evening with a clothespin on my nose so that I don't die from the stench.  Poor puppies.  One of them must be sick with a little puppy ailment of some kind.  Since I don't know which one, they've both been crated for the day.  They are going to HATE me tonight.

Also, Home Owners Association and your $75 fine?  You suck.  I would really like to know how a clause in our neighborhood rulebook prohibiting offensive items on your property such as trash, broken furniture, and broken down cars extends to a violation of the rule when you don't have curtains hung in your back window.  I hate that we spent a truly ungodly amount of money to buy our house, have to pay money each month for the privilege of living in a neighborhood ruled by our dictatorship of an association, and don't even have a say in whether or not we hang curtains.  Yet our next door neighbors have a veritable jungle of weeds and beer cans in their yard and apparently no one seems to mind.

And Comcast DVR?  You try to convince us all that you're just as great as my old lover, TiVo, but we all know that you are not.  You suck us in with your lower prices and promises of equal service, but your complete disregard for my orders when I tell you to record something, or fast forward, or play, or NOT DELETE AMERICAN IDOL WHEN I HAVEN'T YET FINISHED WATCHING IT have pushed me over the edge of irritation all the way into blind fury.  If I just wasn't a lady, what wouldn't I tell that varmint.

And can I just mention again that today isn't Friday?  I'm ready to go back to bed, please.

A Hero Amongst Puppies

This weekend, my friend made the comment that out of the four of us growing up (Me, her, my sister and her sister were pretty inseparable between my ages of 9 and 16 and are still wonderfully great friends.) she never would have expected that I would turn out to be the crazy dog lady of the bunch.  I've always liked animals, but I think if you would have asked us 10 years ago which of us would own two dogs and be begging for a third, I would not have been the obvious choice.

And yet here I am, completely, hopelessly addicted to furry, adorable animals--particularly those without a home.  I rescued both Jack and Ellie from shelters in Arkansas and instead of having favors at my reception that would just get left behind or lost or tossed after the wedding, we made a donation to the Louisiana SPCA.  When we were in New York in August, a woman was set up on the sidewalk with homeless kittens and it was all I could do to resist stuffing one in my purse as a souvenir.  Instead I just emptied out my wallet and kept my fingers crossed that someone would come along and take them all home.

But what always breaks my heart more than anything in the world, is when I see an animal on the side of the road--either running along the highway, or already hit by a car, and being unable to stop and help.  I usually end up with tears in my eyes as I drive away, just hoping against hope that my own little dogs won't ever run away from home and find themselves in that situation.  It's such an awful feeling to not be able to do anything for that helpless creature, confused by the speeding cars and bright lights, and yet I've never stopped to do anything.  Until last night.

It was around 6:30, pitch black outside, the narrow back road very dimly lit by tall glowing lamp posts.  I turned onto the street that leads into our neighborhood, and saw something moving on the side of the road.  Suddenly, a big yellow dog came loping out of the bushes, tail wagging and tongue hanging out as he headed directly for my car.  I slowed down to a snail's pace seeing that there were cars coming up behind me who probably hadn't seen the dog who was now wandering aimlessly down the middle of the road.  I came to a full stop, causing the cars behind me to slow down and hopefully see the dog, and then I pulled over to the side of the road to slowly open my front door, praying that the dog was as friendly as he looked.

The other cars drove around us, giving a wide berth as the big yellow dog came toward me, 70 pounds of wagging tail and smiling eyes as he nuzzled my hand in greeting.  I saw that he had a name tag on, so I stepped down from the car and, taking him by the collar, hoisted him into the back seat.

He had big, beautiful eyes that looked at me gratefully as he curled up on my back seat, tail thumping against the car door.  He was completely quiet, aside from the swish of his tail, and he tentatively licked my arm as I fumbled with his collar, in search of a phone number.  I saw that his name was Oliver and introduced myself to him, scratching the top of his head and the back of his ears as I dialed the number that would hopefully connect me to his owner.

After a bit of difficulty understanding the man who eventually answered the phone, I determined that he did indeed have a dog named Oliver, and that he would have his wife meet me by the gate at the foot of their driveway.  Oliver seemed perfectly content, stretched out on the backseat, probably thrilled to be inside where it was warm after his big adventure outdoors in the below freezing temperatures.

I found his house, and together we sat in the car, waiting for his people to arrive.  Eventually a woman came down the drive with another dog by her side, and I got out of the car to help Oliver down.  When I opened the door, he stood staring at me, hesitant, unsure of what was going on, afraid to go back outside.  I coaxed him down from the backseat and walked him toward the gate.  I was a little concerned that he didn't seem more excited to be home, but then it suddenly seemed to occur to him where he was, and when he saw the woman waiting for him, his tail began beating rapidly again and he tried to lunge toward her with all of his adolescent puppy strength.

He dragged me toward the gate, and I made sure that he was safely behind the iron bars before leaving as the woman thanked me.  I can't tell you how happy it made me to do that little thing.  To reunite a family with their dog.  I'm sure the scenario could have gone a number of different ways--Oliver could have been unfriendly, his tag could have been illegible, his owners may not have been home--but the way that it did turn out was perfect.  Oliver got to go back home, and when I got home I hugged my own puppies extra tightly for as long as they would let me.

Holiday Post-Mortem

Ah Christmas, it seems as though it was oh so long ago.

Oh wait.  That's because IT WAS.  I just really don't understand why it's so hard for me to take the time to plug in the cord and download pictures from our cameras.  But anyway, I finally got around to it last night, so the time has come for my Christmas and New Year review.

As you may remember, I wasn't incredibly excited for the holidays this year.  I was coming off of the wedding high, I was going to be away from my family for Christmas for the first time, and I was skeptical about how fun Christmas could actually be with only two people participating in the festivities.  Let me tell you though, it was actually really fun!  So fun in fact that I lobbied hard to cancel on going over to a friend's house Christmas night because I was enjoying just being curled up in my pajamas on the couch watching Christmas movies.  From Colby, I got the fabulous Malan Breton bag from my Christmas wish list, as well as Ratatouille, which I'd never seen before but ended up loving.  I got Colby a Nikon D40 to replace his super busted, screen cracked, rubberbanded together digital camera, but because this is the way my life works, I ordered it a few weeks before Christmas with 4-6 day delivery and we got it on the 26th.

 
(Ack, it's me with no makeup!  Shield your eyes!  Except for the purse.  Would you look at the awesomeness of that purse?  I can fit a book, umbrella, huge wallet, and mountains of random crap in there and it still looks all shiny and beautiful and stylish.  Love it.)

So, in the end, yay Christmas.  Christmas, by the way is officially not over since we're still getting presents and cards in the mail almost every day.  So, this entry is still entirely relevant.

New Year's was pretty much a total blast.  I drank so many martinis and Mai Tais that I was practically swimming in rum and vodka.  But it was SUCH GOOD rum and vodka.  And I was still totally and completely able to stand on my own two feet when we went outside to watch the fireworks.  Which?  Sucked.  Apparently there was some kind of computer malfunction with the show, and so we stood there perplexed as the minutes ticked by without any booms and flashes, and then became even more disgruntled when all we saw were the fireworks pictured below.  A friend told me that eventually they got the show going manually and it got a little better, but by that point our friends were practically passed out on the street and we decided to go ahead and get them home.

As you can see from that last picture, when we got home I decided to not only feed the dogs, but sit on the floor and give them positive affirmations and encouragement as they ate.  I am the best drunk dog mom in the world.

Back to Real Life

Today it was in the upper 30s and cloudy.

Today I had over 1,000 unread items in my feed reader.

Today I got a stack of paperwork the size of a small child that had been piling up while I was out of the office.

Today I had to wake up at six o'clock to make it to work on time.

Tomorrow I'll give you the breakdown of the wedding--today I'm going to go catch up on the DVR with my husband while our dogs sleep on the floor by my feet.

Tomorrow maybe I'll be able to say "my husband" without giggling like a maniac.

Today it's still cracking me up.

A Brief Recap

The past couple of days have blown by in a heartbeat, while simultaneously dragging on for years.  I did manage to leave a little bit early from work on Friday after a trip to the aquarium where I had the chance to meet some of my favorite Hollywood stars.

Dory and Nemo would like to remind you that fish are friends, not food.
 
Almost as soon as I sat down on the train, I received a phone call from Colby and he led with that aforementioned famous line of his:  "Do you want the good news or the bad news?"

The bad news:  My computer couldn't be fixed--something about they could solder the broken piece back in place, but the wires would probably never line up properly again so the computer wouldn't actually be able to receive a charge.  Of course I promptly lost my shit since all of my wedding files were on the hard drive and hadn't been backed up in a few weeks--weeks in which lots of updating had been done to my files.  That night, rather than arriving home early, getting some laundry done and then taking a leisurely trip to Target, we drove up to the closest Apple store where I finally bought my long awaited MacBook with a combination of excitement and frustration.  I love my new computer, but I honestly would much rather have waited until after our trip to Italy in April.

Anyway, the purchase was made and we had time for a quick Wal-Mart run before Colby dropped me off in Tacoma for my hair appointment.  Once my hair was finished I spent the rest of the night packing and salvaging as much as I could from my wedding files on our external hard drive.  I finally dropped into bed around 1:30 in the morning and was up again at 6:00 to finish packing and bring the dogs to the vet where they're boarding until we get home.

It just never gets any easier dropping those little guys off for their long trips at "camp".  I was doing fine and they were completely a mess during the car ride, but once their leashes were removed and they were walking away, they're little tails wagging unsuspectingly, I would be lying if I said I didn't mist up more than a little.

The flights were long and tiring, as they all are from the top left corner of the country, and we landed a little after ten o'clock last night.  Today I've been spending the day working on wedding checklists and I took a break to have lunch and spend the afternoon with one of my closest friends and bridesmaids.  It had been far too long since we'd seen each other, so it was a wonderful visit and then it was back to the wedding grind.

Tonight, the plan is to sit down and assemble the wedding programs and get the bridal party gifts organized.  Tomorrow, I have my dress fitting first thing in the morning, before having some files printed at Office Depot, shopping for last minute emergency wedding supplies, and then going to our final meeting at the ceremony and reception venue.  So naturally I'm now going to go eat a large slice of triple chocolate cheesecake.  I don't want people worrying about whether I'm eating enough during my walk down the aisle!

I've Become "That Girl"

You know, the one that is completely incapable of opening her mouth without wedding related babble spewing forth uncontrollably.  I've been trying to keep quiet at work as much as possible for fear that I will unleash a tirade of nonsense sentences involving flowers, tipping rules, dress fittings, and gift etiquette.  It's like I've come down with an incurable case of Wedding Tourettes.

And the thing is, there really is so much more to talk about.  Like I've been thinking a lot about religion and my beliefs lately, largely inspired by Maggie's serial about her relationship with Catholicism.  And I've had this entry floating around in my head for over a week now about all of the doubts and questions that I have and wondering how one goes about finding a church, and if it's bad to want to go to church just to make friends.  But every time I sit down to write it I get distracted by my photo list or suddenly remember something that needs to be added to my wedding time line.

I want to write about the dogs and how insanely frustrating it is that for the past few months they've made it their sole mission in life to eat the entire contents of our house, yet I still really, really want another puppy.  And then I think oh my God, could that possibly be my biological clock suddenly starting to tick and think marriage, hmm, must be baby time!  But no, right?  Because Colby and I are in harmonious accord about the fact that we want to wait another 4 or 5 years before we even think about kids.  So maybe I really do just want a puppy?  And how can we keep the dogs from eating everything in our house?

I've also got a lot to say about the Seattle transit system, which really isn't all that fascinating, so maybe that's why I haven't written about it.  But seriously, the parking situation at the train stations is absolute crap which led to a parking ticket which I have now lost and need to pay, but don't know how, and then they just randomly decided to cancel my train home without saying anything on Monday because freaking Monday Night Football was in town.  My God Seattle, get your shit together!

So, anyway, the long and short of it is that I just can't bring myself to bore you with another post about the wedding, because you've all been so nice about it and I want you to keep being nice and excited for me, and not like, for the love of all that is good and holy, please shut UP about the WEDDING!

Instead, I'll show you the boots that I bought after all of the wonderful winter shoe advice I received from y'all on Tuesday.  Some people would have thought to themselves, huh, good idea, I should buy a pair of boots!  I thought to myself, huh, good idea, I should buy three pairs of boots!  So I did.

Anne Klein Culhane (Brown)

Nine West Campion (Brown)

Franco Sarto Women's Pension Platform Ankle Boot (Black)

The Curse of NaBloPoMo

So, I think the fact that I'm hoarding all of my blog topics for November may somewhat defeat the purpose of NaBloPoMo.  I'm not actually certain what the purpose of NaBloPoMo is aside from posting daily, but I imagine that me not posting AT ALL until November 1st defeats whatever purpose it holds.  And still, I shall not discuss any of the deep, fascinating topics I have in store for you come November.

These deep and fascinating topics range from "Wedding: Oh my God it's in 23 days" to "Wedding: Oh my God it's tomorrow" with maybe a little bit of "Wedding: Well, now that that's over with, let's drink and eat beignets!"

Anyway, our weekend flew by with the rapid speed with which all weekends have been flying by of late.  I'm not used to being so productive and social, and the combination of these two behaviors really serve to make my weekends much less pajama and television oriented.  Sometimes I quite miss my pajamas and television.

Saturday we finally were able to pick up Colby's ring, so now both of our wedding bands are sitting on our dresser, uninsured and just daring a raging house fire to melt them into little pools of molten white gold and diamonds.  However, I fear that my constant "reminders" to Colby are evolving into nagging, and I feel like I should at least wait until we're married before I become a nagging wife.

We also brought our programs to Office Depot to have them printed in Louisiana, which turned out to be a much more gigantic deal than I had anticipated.  We ended up spending an hour with our good friend Brad, The Office Depot Print Shop Guy, uploading everything properly and detailing what cuts needed to be made on the paper once it was printed.  Since then I have received two phone calls along the lines of "WTF?" from the Office Depot people in Baton Rouge, so suffice it to say, I am now a bit nervous about how this whole program biznass is going to go down.

Yesterday we invited some friends and their dog over for a playdate with Jack and Ellie and that was... hilarious.  Both Jack and Ellie were instantly enamored of Rocky, and Rocky really wanted absolutely nothing to do with them.  It was a little heartbreaking watching them trail him everywhere he went, fortunately they had not a clue that he would prefer for them to run out in front of a speeding Mac truck than be anywhere near him.  By the end of the night, Rocky was begging his people to take him home and Jack and Ellie thought they had a new best friend.  Unfortunately, (or fortunately, depending on how you feel about dog pictures with a heavy dose of personification in the captions) there is no photographic evidence that such an event ever took place, so Jack and Ellie will just have to hold the memory in their hearts.

So, there, that was my weekend, minus the boring bits where we cleaned bathrooms and tried not to fall asleep while out to dinner with friends.  In all honesty I probably won't be back until November 1st.  I'm sure I'll be busy coming up with compelling and highly relevant blog topics, I'll just be saving everything for publication in November.  Get excited, NaBloPoMo is coming!

Is It Friday Yet?

This week in bullet format:

• I still feel like crap, and the weather is not helping.  Oh yeah, it's definitely fall in Seattle.
• Airborne can suck my left toe because it IS NOT HELPING.
• My first thought upon waking up this morning was, "Oh God, I have to do this again tomorrow."  I then hit the snooze button.
• After downing a quarter pound of semi sweet chocolate a couple months ago, and then surviving, Jack and Ellie decided to conquer glass.  We came home yesterday to bits of Colby's glasses strewn across the living room floor and both of the lenses popped out and no longer present.
• We soaked cotton balls in milk and fed them to the dogs and then gave them each a bowl of high fiber cereal.  Ellie seems fine, Jack still hasn't gone number two, so let's just hope his intestines aren't being ripped up by glass shards as we speak.
• Why do my dogs have a death wish?
• They are now being crated during the day.  Twits.
• I took Tuesday off from work and still haven't caught up--hence the crappy bullet post.
• We picked up my wedding band from the jeweler yesterday and it is GORGEOUS!!  However, I'm not allowed to show it off to the internet yet because Colby says I have to actually be married first.  He's mean.
• The ring came with a jar of jewelry cleaner, and although I am now thrilled to have jewelry cleaner in the house, I was a little disappointed at first because I totally thought it was a jar of candy.
• How is it that it took 3 days to set stones and do detailed etching on my band and it's been 4 days since we bought Colby's ring that just needed a brushed finish put on and we still haven't heard from the jeweler?  Weird.
• I still haven't bought the dress... I'm working on it.  But I did buy a brown pair and a black pair of (hopefully comfortable) heels for work since I'm tired of either wearing flats or having sore feet.  I'll provide shoe updates soon.
• There were wedding related "heated discussions" and tears shed on Tuesday night.  Yesterday my monthly visitor arrived.  I'm not saying there's a direct correlation, but I think maybe the one had a little something to do with the other.
• But isn't the saying "There is much truth to that which is said in PMS"?

A much more interesting (to me) wedding-centric post is coming soon, but I need to eat and then get back to work.  Those spreadsheets aren't going to create themselves!

A Little General Chit Chat

I have nothing to wear.  My closet is full but I hate all of my clothes.  My roots are taking over my life.  My nail polish is chipped and my feet are screaming out for a pedicure.  I desperately need a girly day.

See, here's the thing--I have so many clothes.  I have shirts, skirts, jeans, dresses, sweaters, jackets--you name it, I've got it.  The problem is that most of it stopped being even remotely in style about 3 years ago.  I had just enough cute clothes to keep me clothed and stylish if I were wearing a uniform 5 times a week, but the problem is that now I'm not wearing a uniform 5 times a week.  And the clothes that I do have and feel comfortable wearing in 2007 are either going out clothes or work clothes--not at all appropriate for a trip to Wal-Mart or a soccer game.  So, I've been wearing the same 5 shirts over and over again.  What I really need to do is just go through my closet and part with the clothes I haven't worn in the past 36 months.  But, I have this irrational fear that the second those clothes are out of my closet, I'll have a desperate urge to wear that lime green scoop neck baby tee or the navy blue American Eagle Summer Camp t-shirt that doesn't quite cover my stomach.  I just need Clinton and Stacy to break down my door and storm my closet with a trash can and witty, biting comments.

And then there's my hair, my poor, poor "blonde" hair.  My roots have reached ThreatCon: Brown, but I'm still in search of a great yet not mind blowingly expensive salon.  So, you know, if any of you locals out there have a recommendation, my follicles and I are all ears!  Well, my hair is not actually all ears, it is in fact hair, but I'm listening, and my little hairs have to follow me where ever I tell them we're going.

In happy news, I finally joined the 21st century and bought an Ipod.  I've had a SanDisk mp3 player for a while now, and it's the only thing that makes running bearable.  However, I recently discovered that all of the music I bought through iTunes won't transfer on to the player I had, and since I've been looking for an excuse to upgrade to something smaller and easier to use, I took the opportunity and found a refurbished Ipod Shuffle for about $40.  It arrived today and I'm absolutely in love with how tiny and insanely simple it is to use.  I'm a little sad that it's silver instead of hot pink, or even any other more interesting color, but I decided it wasn't worth $30 to buy the new Ipod just so it would be the right color.  Colby has inherited my old SanDisk, so now we can run together and completely ignore each other to our hearts content!  My shuffle is charging up right now, and hopefully some time this afternoon I'll try it out on a little dash around the block.

We've also finally been experiencing the beautiful Seattle weather that no one ever talks about.  See, everyone equates Seattle with rain, which, yes, okay, that's true.  But what they don't realize is that when it's not raining, the weather is absolutely perfect.  The sun shines, the temperature tends to stay between the upper 60s and 80s, all of the plants and trees are lush and gorgeous--it really is miraculous for this southern girl who's used to temperatures in the 90s and 100s and 100% humidity 8 months out of the year!  Of course, that fabulous weather only held out through yesterday evening, when Ellie and I went to watch Colby's squadron in a soccer game.  The minute we left the house for the game, the drizzle started and by the time the game had started it was full on raining.  Us girls were a little miserable, but our team won the game and remain undefeated for the season.  So, as proof of the gorgeous weather we've been having, here are a few pictures of our Saturday at the park.

Ellie is our cuddler--if there is a lap accessible, she'll be in it.


Jack likes to pretend he's independent.  Until we put him outside to play by himself and he spends the entire time crying with his face smashed against the window.



Running Time!


And then they pass out.  Unfortunately for you, I can't figure out how to upload video, because now you can't see Ellie and Colby rolling down a hill together or hear my horrific Britney Spears sounding voice.  What a shame!

You Take The Good, You Take The Bad...

It has been quite a week, hasn't it?  It seems like such a strange week--so many great things have happened, but there's so much sadness in the world right now.  Our house is finally starting to turn into a home, we've made lots of progress on our long list of house projects, Colby is home, the sun has been shining, I finally found my camera, Sanjaya finally got the boot on American Idol.  And yet every day there's nothing but bad news from the rest of the world.  I find myself changing the channel constantly because I just can't hear another story about one of the Virginian Tech victims, or another tale of a gun turning up in a kid's backpack, or one more break-in or DUI or hit and run.

I suppose it's a product of living near a big city.  There's a lot more opportunity for bad things to happen because there are just a lot more people.  I've always been afraid of having my home broken into--I don't know why for sure.  It's never happened to me, and I've never lived anywhere near a high crime neighborhood, but for some reason ever creak of the house settling sends me into spasms of terror.  Now I'm living in a neighborhood I don't know well, I have no campus police patrolling or gated community to give me that false sense of security, and I have dogs that go ballistic every time the neighbors leave their house.  I'm guessing with time I'll get used to things, but I tell ya, I really miss hearing any sort of good news on the television at night.

I am very much enjoying myself during the day, however, when I'm not afraid of homicidal maniacs.  Colby's 10 day deployment was cut short, and he was back home after only a week.  I had the great pleasure of going out to lunch with some friends that I'd known for years through the internet--and now I can finally consider them "real life" friends.  The books in the office have all been alphabetized, and I can see the light at the end of the filing tunnel.  Although there have been many glares of death from Colby when I admit to shredding his 10 year old bank statements, and growls of frustration from me when my attempts at organization are questioned, I'm really loving finally being with the boy.  And in a surreal moment of truth, I realized this morning that we are just days away from our one month anniversary of moving in together.  One month.  Gone, in the blink of an eye and a flurry of boxes and packing paper.

I'm trying very hard to hold on to each day and really enjoy it for what it is instead of longing for the day when we have grass in the backyard, all the rooms painted, and every box unpacked.  There's always going to be something that needs doing, and I'm learning that enjoying the process is just as important as the end result.  I think this is a lesson that I've been trying to learn for years now.  What can I say, I'm just a very goal oriented gal.

But anyway, as I said, the camera was at long last located--just yesterday mind you--under a pile of crap.  It was exactly where I thought it would be, but the trick was properly identifying the correct load of crap.  So, finally, for your viewing pleasure, some random photos from the past month.  Enjoy!

First a gratuitous adorable puppy photo.  Two dogs, brought together by fate, forced to like each other.


The most enjoyable part of wedding planning--CAKE TASTING!!  Oh my God, the cake is going to be fabulous.  We decided on the traditional white almond wedding cake with 3 layers--grand marnier and Bavarian cream, chocolate doberge, and Hummingbird (raspberry, cream cheese, and pecans)--with an ivory buttercream frosting.  My mouth, it is watering right now.

 

Show tune Karaoke:  Because a post with pictures would be incomplete without my big mouth behind a microphone.


Innocent Angela, sitting on campus with her fiance, never suspecting what was to come next  during the mysterious "Levee Walk: 2007"


BLING!  BLING!!  Okay, it was really windy, and neither one of us are terribly good photographers hence the bad hair and blurry picture.  But there's a slightly better shot to come.


At the engagement party held by Colby's side.  I felt like I was at a photo shoot toward the end with all of the obligatory family photos.  This is the parents' shot and one with my unfairly hot sister.  I think I'll make her wear a paper bag over her head on the day of the wedding...



Arriving at the Jack and Jill Shower held by close family friends on my side (oh my God, are those my hips or did the Great Wall of China sneak into my pants??) and hanging out with my maid of honor and two bridesmaids.  We go waaaaaaay back.  We're like sisters--except we all like each other.  (Well, and one of them actually IS my sister.)


The Magnificent Table of presents--I loved this party.  And on the right is the amazing collage handmade by one of the hostesses of the event.  It's amazing.


And finally it was moving day, and we had to fit the entire Magnificent Table of Presents into the car with us, along with all of the stuff I'd moved home with, and Colby's luggage.  For a minute there, I thought I might be riding in my rocking chair on the roof rack.


Here's how I spent most of the four driving days...


And here's my good natured chauffeur.  I don't know what it is, but put me in a car and I am completely useless--it's better than Ambien.


One of the amazing sunsets we witnessed... when there was still a sun to be setting.


And here is what I discovered when I was carried across the threshold--chocolate and a mess of absolutely indescribable proportions.  Note:  This is BEFORE my stuff was even delivered yet.  Sigh.


But we rolled up our sleeves, got to work, and got to painting... To Be Continued!

That's as up to date as I can get you for pictures right now, but since I've located the camera, as we get rooms finished I'll start working on a virtual tour for those of you who are as nosy as I am about other people's houses.  This weekend we're heading out to a pig roast (!?) and Sunday we're doing engagement photos and then going the see A Light In The Piazza in Seattle.  And I am so hungry right now that I just typed "pizza" instead of "piazza".  I think it's time for a little of the snack that smiles back.  Later dudes! 

Pick Pick Pick

I swear, you people and your attention to detail!  You know, I thought long and hard about that post title yesterday.  I thought about actually doing my research to find out what sort of category an olive falls into, but instead I based it on my pizza menu.  Vegetable pizzas.  Olives come on vegetable pizzas ERGO an olive must be a vegetable, right?  WRONG.

According to Wikipedia (which is NEVER wrong, right?):

The [olive] fruit is a small drupe 1-2.5 cm long, thinner-fleshed and smaller in wild plants than in orchard cultivars. It is also green and sometimes can be black.

And in case you, like me, saw the word "drupe" and started laughing hysterically, here is another little botany lesson:

In botany, a drupe is a type of fruit in which an outer fleshy part (exocarp, or skin; and mesocarp, or flesh) surrounds a shell (the pit or stone) of hardened endocarp with a seed inside. These fruits develop from a single carpel, and mostly from flowers with superior ovaries. (Haha! My ovaries are better than your ovaries!!)  The definitive characteristic of a drupe is that the hard, lignified stone (or pit) is derived from the ovary wall of the flower.

So, in short, an olive is much more closely related to a peach than to an onion.  And that is just wrong--whoever heard of an olive and peach pizza??

Anyway, I'm still struggling to keep my eyes open during the day.  I've been sleeping horribly for the past couple of nights.  Jack is not taking this relocation well, and he spends the nights jolting violently awake from a dead sleep and barking frantically at top volume for no apparent reason.  This in turn jolts me violently awake from a dead sleep and subsequently I have spent the past two days cranky and yawning behind my desk.

I did however get a post up at Wise Bread yesterday, so in lieu of any further entertainment here, I urge you to go read about my love for Isaac Mizrahi (Have you seen his talk show?  I just want to squeeze him!)  Go, shoo, off with you now!

The Eyes Have It

I'm really starting to think that I'm going blind.

Last year, around this time, it was brought to my attention that my eyesight was less than perfect.  At that point I dealt with all of the ramifications of no longer being able to state proudly that I was more eagle eyed than any of my friends (oh, like you aren't proud of weird things!), and that I'd have the pleasure of wearing glasses while reading or driving at night.

Thing is though, my eyesight wasn't really that bad and I honestly couldn't tell the difference with or without my glasses on.  I gave it a good college try, but I eventually just stopped wearing my glasses and went on with my life.  But, in recent months I've noticed that I have to squint just the twee-est bit harder to make out what road signs say and that there's a really obnoxious halo around all of the headlights and traffic lights when I'm driving at night or in the early morning.  I also have to give my eyes a good 2 or 3 minutes to adjust from looking at my computer to trying to see something across the room.

I think it's time to have my eyes checked again.

In other eye related news, Jack is once again costing me an arm and a leg in vet bills.  Okay, not really.  In comparison to what he cost me at one point right now he's really just costing me a finger and a toe, but I don't really have many fingers and toes to spare right now.

On Friday I noticed that he had some strange tiny black bumps around the rims of his eyes, but I figured I just had never noticed them before and went on with my day.  Over the weekend, though, they morphed into larger clumps of whitish bumps and started to swell a little bit.  So, I made an appointment and brought him in to the vet today to have it checked out.  As always, Jack managed to mystify the veterinarian with his ailment and she just handed over an antihistamine and an antibiotic and told me to come back if it didn't clear up in a few days.  Ah, man's best friend.  Well, he can just consider this his Christmas present.

So, this Holidailies thing hasn't been too painful yet, has it?  Well, just you wait until the end of the month when I'm posting my grocery list with witty commentary.  I don't know about you, but I'm excited!

I'm All Out of Love

I've never understood how anyone could abuse an animal.  When I picked up Jack and Ellie at the shelter there was so much love, confusion, and fear in their eyes.  They didn't understand what had been going on in their lives, and I made it my mission to give them the best home I possibly could.  To always keep them warm and well fed, supplied with plenty of superfluous toys and cute collars.  I would discipline them when necessary and teach them how to be the best puppies they could possibly be.

But last night I nearly murdered Ellie.  I completely understood the breaking point that someone can reach that would drive them to just toss a dog out on the side of the road and leave.  All I could do was hurl her into her crate and slam the door shut and then cry tears of rage and frustration while Jack tried to climb on top of my head.

I cannot housebreak that dog.  It has been almost a year and she still has "accidents" in the house two or three times a week.  If I don't take her outside every 30 minutes to an hour she'll just go right there in front of me--looking me straight in the eyes.  I know that she is capable of holding it.  She stays in a crate while I'm at work all day and only one time has she ever gone to the bathroom in it.  I still can't leave her out of the crate at night because she can't keep herself calm enough outside of the crate to sleep through the night, and she harrasses Jack the entire night.  Not to mention the fact that I can't trust her to not pee on the carpet all through the night.

I never had that problem with Jack.  Once he was crate trained I can think of two times in the past year that he's peed in the house.  After he hit about eight months he was able to go a full night plus sleep in in the mornings without having to go and he's able to hold his biznass for as long as it takes me to get his butt out the door.

I'm at my wits end with Ellie.  I've tried everything--I've read every article there is on housebreaking and I've tried all of the techniques.  I've tried treats and praise when she goes outside, I catch her in the act and discipline her immediately, I've tried hanging a bell on the door so she can let me know when she needs to go out.  I've even tried the "wrong" way to do things, rubbing her nose in it and telling her no, spanking her after the fact, everything.  And she's a very smart dog.  She knows that what she's doing is wrong, but it's like she just doesn't care--if I don't take her outside the second that it comes into her head that she needs to go to the bathroom, she'll just go where ever it is that she's standing.  I don't know what else to do.

When I get home from work, I dread letting her out of her crate because I know it's only a matter of time before she makes a mess on the carpet.  I go through at least four papertowel rolls a week and can only imagine the horrifying state that the carpet pad must be in at this point.  I dread moving her into our new house because I know that within weeks she'll have peed all over the carpet.

I love my dog, but I've considered just bringing her back to the pound and admitting defeat.  Yet I can't bring myself to do that, to give up on her again, to lose my little cuddler who loves to come sit next to me and stick her nose under the couch cushion.  When she's not pissing all over the house and being a general spastic pain in the ass, she really is a pretty great dog.  I just wish that I could go a couple of days without having to wipe up after her messes and that I could leave her out at night without any worry.

Can someone give Cesar Millan my address please?  I'm desperate.

Relaxation=A Luxurious Bubble Bath

Unless you're Jack.  And then a luxurious bubble bath equals an experience close to ancient Chinese water torture.  And if you're me it pretty much just means getting completely and utterly soaked and feeling like a right bitch for trying to get your pet clean.

Particularly when he gives you eyes like this just prior to the commencement of Angela's #1 Torture Technique.

I've seen how well the Glary Eyes of Death work for my sister, so instead I shall employ the technique of Gazing Soulfully Into Your Eyes in hopes that my cuteness will overpower your evil bathing ways.

Next time, I suggest he tries the Glary Eyes of Death.  They may get him tossed out on the balcony to think about what he's done, but that will at least avoid the horrors of the bathtub.  Blech.  Soap.

And this is what happens when mom takes a moment away from strongarming him into the bathtub to laugh hysterically and document the sessions with photos for her stupid blawg.  Lesson learned.

 
Of course, once he escaped the confines of The Bathtub it was back to Reproachful Stares that I'm pretty sure he learned from his online courses in Guilt Tripping:101.

   
No worries, the sad eyed look never really goes away.  He's actually very happy that he's clean.  I know.  He told me.

Editor's Note:  Yes, I totally just doggyblogged.  Shut up, it was a really shitty day at work yesterday and I know that I really can't discuss that here, so instead I just needed to laugh at my bedraggled pet.  This is why I feel that I'm not yet ready for kids... mocking their discomfort and unhappiness to make myself feel better would probably make the inevitable emancipation around the age of 15 completely understandable.  But dogs are just asking for it.  Seriously.

Ellie's Note:  It really sucks outside, I probably shouldn't have been such a mean bitch earlier.

Wheeeee!

I do not know why, but I am just in an INSANELY good mood today!  I don't have a particular reason, because seriously life is confusing me just as much as ever, but it's like today?  I DON'T GIVE A CRAP!!  I'm riding the high of 3 apple martinis from last night, the promise of a Johnny Depp-centric two hours tonight and a Peabody Rivertop party with hopefully at least one ridiculously expensive cranberry and vodka (which I just spelled crandberry and find extremely funny for no apparent reason).

I suppose my good mood could also be derived from the fact that it is now 1:46 and I have spent a grand total of 2 hours actually at work in my office since Tuesday.  I kind of LOVE that!

[Insert witty segue here]  Wednesday I brought my dogs to a leash free dog park and let them run wild with their own kind for a little while.  It was so interesting to see how their personalities shifted in the "pack mentality".  Jack became much more aggressive and refused to stop harrassing the other dogs.  At one point he was leading a pack of yipping dogs after a 6 month old German Sheppard whose tail he held firmly in his jaws glorying in the sound of the German Sheppard's terrified squeaks.  Shortly thereafter Jack was relegated back to his leash where he remained for the rest of the visit.  I'm just waiting for the day he messes with the wrong dog and is reminded that he's only 40 pounds and not, in fact, a heavy weight dog wrestling champion.  Ellie, on the other hand, was about as laid back and mellow as I've ever seen her.  She wasn't terribly interested in many of the other dogs and spent her time running around on her own eating foreign substances she found under rocks.  She had a fantastic time.

After the dog park, we brought them down to the river to go swimming for the first time.  I took some pretty adorable pictures, sadly my computer is STILL busted (did you know that it costs 99 DOLLARS to have them try to recover your hard drive??  ugh...) so you'll just have to imagine some tentative paddling on Jack's part and extremely enthusiastic Hungry, Hungry Hippos action from Ellie.  Apparently, viciously biting the water as you swim is helpful to staying afloat.  Who knew?

Anyway, it should be a pretty good, low drama weekend and the countdown is getting lower to my New York City trip next week!!  Just 4 more days to go until I am on the plane and off to take on the Big Apple with my sister.  I may even get frighteningly productive and do a little packing on Sunday--but don't hold me to it, I'm much more of a night-before-the-trip kind of packer.  Have a safe weekend, and maybe, just MAYBE I'll update you on the boy drama in my life on Monday... or maybe not... we'll see!

I Have Cute Dogs and Also Am A Putter Offer Type Person

I'd like to introduce you to the Psychotic Puppy, Ellie, who has taken up residence in my home recently.  She spends rather a lot of time racing around the apartment like a whirling dervish, chewing on things she shouldn't, yapping at Jack while he eats his food, and pooping on the balcony.  And yet, despite all of this, I love the little squirmy bastard.  And it does appear to be true what they say about the second "child" syndrome, as much as I love her and adore her, I've had her for 3 months now, and she's yet to make an appearance on the site.  Whereas with Jack I had to physically restrain myself from posting more and yet more photos of him when he first arrived in my life for fear of chasing off all of my readers.

So, anyway, without further ado, here she is, the devil spawn herself, Ellie the Caramel Colored Baby:

Believe me, this calm angelic demeanor is nowhere NEAR her natural state...

Witness the glowing devil eyes burning into your soul and tempting you to follow in their demonic ways.

And from the first time they laid eyes on each other, it was clear that the two would be fast friends... or that they would chew each other to bits without a moment's hesitation.

And then when there are cookies in question, they are suddenly the best behaved puppies in the known universe--and possibly even the unknown.

Noooooobody knows the trouble I've seen, noooooobody knows my sorrow.  Huh!  She's a bass!  This is where she spends the majority of her time "thinking about what she's done" while I finish tearing out my hair and/or comforting Jack after she's bitten the crap out of him.

So, yes, that's been rather fun, and she certainly provides a distraction when things are going crap in my life, which they kind of have been lately.  I know I keep saying I'm going to give the update on the boy situation, but honestly I just can't bring myself to go into details right now.  I'm fairly confident that I'll be bored as hell at work on Tuesday and then I will spill all of the sordid details.  And at the rate things have been going I will then sell myself on Ebay for a passel of camels and just be done with this whole stupid dating thing.

If I'm Not Careful You're Totally Going to Want to Steal My Life

Because it is JUST THAT AWESOME!!

I'm not sure if that's sarcasm or not... lately it's been kind of either really awesome or totally craptastic.  Not a whole awful lot of middle ground.  But yesterday I did get everything done that I was supposed to, except for the washing of the bathroom.  I have an excuse though.  The time allocated to cleansing of tile surfaces was instead taken over by what we'll call "Jack and Ellie's Big Adventure!"

Sigh.

So, apparently Jack is really crazy smart about things that he WANTS to be smart about, and the fact that he just glances at me lazily with eyes glazed over when I say silly things like "Sit", "Come", and "Stay", doesn't actually reflect much on his intelligence.  Dude knows how to open the door.  I shit you not.  And yesterday he decided to try out this new little trick and took his little sister on the aforementioned Big Adventure.  The best part?  He'd pulled off Ellie's collar before they went racing off into the wild blue yonder, so when I went tearing after them with their leashes, it did me No Good.

You know what's even cuter?  How they can just sense with their evil little puppy brains that I really want them to just come the frick back inside and so when I crouch down by the door with cookies and make sweet, cooing come hither noises they actually LAUGH at me and then run away.  Like, fuck your cookies you stupid human, there's poop out here to eat!!

So, I ran after them out to the woods behind my apartment--praying that the stupid teenagers with their stupid fast cars wouldn't come flying around the corner at just that moment--and sweet little Ellie, who shall henceforth be known as The Good One That I Love Most, came running over to me as she determined that cookies actually are tastier than poop.  Jack, on the other hand, had business to take care of, and coming anywhere near me was not included in his schedule of events.  He refused to even look in my direction--kind of an "If I can't see you, then you're not really there" approach I suppose.  So, I'm crouching precariously on a rocky hill, clutching one squirmy, leashless/collarless dog to my chest and still trying to appear loving and suggesting to Jack that he come to me, when I hear the voice of my across-the-hall-neighbor ringing out from his balcony, "You want some help with that?"  FOR THE LOVE OF POPPY SEED CRACKERS, YES!!!

Neighbor made his way across to the wooded area, doing a nifty little whistling thing that I definitely need to learn and that Jack thought was totally cool, and the little black spawn of Satan came hurtling through the trees, not giving a flip about me or my cookies, but absolutely enamored of that Big Whistling Man.  I hate that dog.  We made it back into my apartment, me trying not to dissolve into a quivering puddle of Jello while thanking neighbor effusively.  Once I got safely inside I thought momentarily about killing the little furballs, but instead started crying and squeezed them to me in utter relief that they weren't doggie flapjacks out on the road.  Of course, they'd already forgotten about the whole thing and were all "get off me you nutjob and give me my dinner!"  And so I did.

Then, to top it all off, I took Ellie out later that night to do her biznass, and her FREAKING COLLAR BROKE!!  Luckily she had to poop, and is less than speedy while pooping, so I was able to catch her without much racing around the apartment complex, but still, it's the whole principal of the thing.  One should really not have to deal with the near loss of their little caramel colored baby twice in the span of a few hours.  It's really far too much strain on my already put-upon heart.

In other news however, I have a second date Thursday night with the guy that I was hoping would stay in the picture.  And going along with the theme of maintaining some semblance of a personal life, that's all I'm saying.  And yet, YAY!

Smallish, Underage People Are Scary

Sometimes I go through stages where I'm almost overwhelmed with maternal instincts.  In the past I've quelled these instincts by getting a dog, but I feel that I've reached my limit with two volatile and completely insane furry animals in an 800 square foot area.  The Puppies are indeed getting better about listening to me--when I have a treat in my hand, or at least within reach--but they still are definitely masters of their own domain.  Which I'm fine with, as long as their domain is limited to outside and I don't have to chase after Ellie who has found another sock to bait me with.  And I think that my goal is not so much to bend them to my will so much as it is to slowly but surely whittle their domain down to nothing so that eventually when they're masters of their own domain it really doesn't mean jack.  Ha!  Fooled them!

Anyway, a coworker recently gave birth in quite possible the most insanely easy pregnancy I've ever heard of in my entire life.  She was never nauseous, no insane cravings to speak of, a touch of insomnia, but really the only way you'd know she was pregnant was the fact that it looked like she had a beachball stuck up her BDU blouse.  She never had any complaints and didn't ever seem to be in the least bit stressed about the pregnancy.  When she went in for her 8 month appointment a couple of weeks ago she was 50% effaced and her doctor said he didn't expect she'd make it to her next appointment (this is her first child, mind you!).  Luckily we had her shower planned for that weekend, so that was taken in care of in time, but Monday was her next appointment and she did indeed make it to the appointment, she just didn't make it home.  Her doctor informed her that she was having contractions two minutes apart AND SHE DIDN'T EVEN KNOW IT.  She didn't feel a dadburn thing!  So she headed over to the hospital and calmly called everyone to let us know that she wouldn't be at work the next morning.  Um, yes, I think that's acceptable dear.  She then proceeded to have a 5 hour labor in which she never felt a single contraction and had an epidural so that she wouldn't have to feel the 8 pound girl child bursting forth from a pea sized hole.  When we went to see her the next day she looked tired, but wasn't sore at all and proudly showed off her beautiful baby girl.  I think if all pregnancies and births worked like that there would be about 75% more people populating the earth.

So we admired little Raegan, smelled her head, curled her hand around our fingers, watched her squawk and turn all red and angry when we unswaddled her to see the whole package--it was great, and I definitely felt those maternal instincts kicking in full force, but mainly because I knew at the end of the visit I'd be able to hand over that tiny little person and go back to my own life where my biggest responsibility is remembering to take Ellie outside every 30 minutes since her bladder apparently has the ability to hold no more than a sip of water.  And I know that when I've had enough of Jack's antics and misbehaving I can just toss him outside and let him stick his head between the slats of the balcony and watch the world go by while I catch up on Gilmore Girls reruns.

So, as mushy gushy as infants make me feel, I have a feeling that it will be a GOOD LONG TIME before I'm ready to introduce one of them into the world.  Because I'm not sure, but I think throwing babies into kennels and locking them in there while you go out shoe shopping is probably frowned upon, in our society at least.