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5月30日 AAAAAAAAAAAND.......it's done....What a day! And if Timber could talk he would probably agree. I had to close the lid on the fresh water spring (toilet) at midnight and put the food bowl on the cabinet so Timber couldn't eat before his surgery. Sure enough, he woke me around 2:30 because he was trying to get a drink and the lid was down. I cheated and gave him an ice cube, then we went back to sleep. I had bad dreams and woke often. (Guilty conscience?) This morning Timber leaped into the back of my little SUV wannabee Tracker like we were off on a fun adventure. Adventure? Yes. Fun? No. Timber stood behind my seat looking out the window on the opposite side of the truck, resulting in his tail whacking me in the back of the head all the way to the vet. The Spay & Neuter Clinic is on the grounds of the Humane Society Animal Shelter so when we got there Timber's senses were on overload. The long row of unwanted dogs were barking and yapping at Timber - LOUDLY. To my guilty conscience they were telling him what I was doing to him. Timber was so excited he couldn't decide what to do first - smell the dogs? pee on everything? pee on the dogs? I dragged him to the door of the clinic where there was a sign that said "Please Walk Your Dog Before Entering." Shoot. I drag Timber back down the ramp and take him to a grassy knoll. Poor guy was so excited he couldn't even hike his leg up to pee on stuff and ended up squatting to pee. He didn't know whether to sh*t or go blind so he just shut one eye and farted. I can't imagine how embarrassing that must have been to him to squat in front of all those other dogs. I was sure the tone of their barking switched to more of a mocking tone. We dragged each other back to the clinic door where a vet's assistant was there to take him. He literally dragged the girl down the hall. I had to fill out a form/sign a consent, then I left to go to work and cried all the way there. Silly, silly, silly, but I couldn't help it. I was supposed to pick Timber up from the clinic around 3:00 but I ended up going at 1:00. I had to see if he was really okay. He was so quiet and so subdued - a totally different dog from the one I left there at 8:30 this morning. The Guilt Monster reared his ugly head at me and said "AH HA!! YOU HAVE KILLED HIS SPIRIT." F*cking Guilt Monster. Timber stood behind me and looked out the window all the way home. We got to the house and he peed for about five minutes and then came in without even going to check the neighbor dog's ass. He's been layin' around all afternoon and evening, although he is starting to perk up a little. I called the vet and they assured me that his listlessness is just the remnants of the knock-out shot. Musta been a helluva shot. I wanted him more calm but I didn't want him like Jack Nicholson in "One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest." I decided we should take a nap but he wouldn't even try to get on the bed. I moved his doggy-mattress beside my bed and we napped for a coupla hours. (Awesome for me!) We're watching the Mavericks/Suns now, just chillin' here at the crib. I've had to stop him from licking his stitches a coupla times. Earlier in the day he looked at me kinda pitifully like he couldn't understand why I did this to him but by this evening he was back with his head on my lap wanting his ears scratched. He's walking a little bow-legged and very gingerly. We may survive this after all.
When I went to pick Timber up this afternoon there was a sweet little old lady at the clinic with her little ol' dog. Both of them were sweet. The little ol' dog had a fatty deposit on his elbow that looked yechy and his back end had been shaved and the hair was growing back in patches. He was only about a foot tall. I bent down to pet him and the lady tells me his name is "Lucky." I snarfed in my head and thought "you don't look so lucky, Lucky, with your ol' patchy back." Then he and the lady sat on the couch to wait their turn to see the vet. Lucky sat in the crook of the old lady's arm. You could tell by the way he fit there that he sat in the crook of that old lady's arm often. They were both so comfortable looking - like they knew they belonged together. Ol' Lucky really IS lucky. 5月29日 The Final Countdown....Ol' Timber has about 12 hours left with his nuts. He's been kinda listless today. I think he must have heard me talking about his "surgery." I CAN'T BELIEVE I FEEL SO SAD AND GUILTY ABOUT DOG TESTICLES. Something in the back of my mind tells me this is NOT normal [for a human to fret over neutering the dog]. It's going to be difficult not letting him drink out of the porcelain spring (toilet) or letting him eat after midnight. He kinda likes a late night snack and will wake me if his bowl is empty. I gave him a good bath yesterday, put flea dip on him, gave him his heart worm pill, and put a fresh Frontline on him in anticipation of his vet visit. This crazy dog will play in a lake all day, but put his butt in a bathtub and he gets pitiful. Whu-what's up with THAT? I guess I don't need to pack a bag for him since he'll be coming home tomorrow afternoon. I wish I could stay with him and hold his paw. I'm contemplating putting peanut butter on Timber's balls so he can have a last opportunity to lick them before they're nothing more than shriveled up little sacks. I just don't know if that's something he's really gonna miss or if men are just idiots when they say they envy dogs for that "skill." [Why does a dog lick himself? Because he can.] I noticed something about Timber's tail. When he's excited his tail goes side to side. When he's VERY excited his whole back end goes side to side. When I talk sweet to him his tail goes in a circle. It's so funny! ForGET having knick-knacks on the coffeetable or low shelves. He can clean off a shelf with one swipe of that tail. Ohhhh, my Timby-wimby. I sure hope I'm doing the right thing for him. He has a head as large as a pony's, and a heart that's bigger than the universe times infinity. Tomorrow will not be a day I want to be my dog, well, except for that being loved out the wah-zoo part... 5月25日 Wow.Thanks to all of you who left such lovely comments on my last post. I've been glowing for a coupla days now. My friends at work asked if I got laid or something. In my best Sally Field impersonation I said of my readers, "They like me - they reallllly like me!" I think I better not go on too many "fishing trips" or my bait may go bad. I didn't intend to be fishing but it felt that way after the great comments.
A thing that irks me worse than I don't know what is when a person who has never performed a task that I do tries to tell me how to do it. Makes my blood boil! Every semester for ten years I have issued books to scholarship athletes, and at the end of the semester I collect them. I've tried several different methods trying to find the most efficient and practical way. Books are the absolute worst part of my job and I dread it every year. There is never a coach around when it's time to do the work, but I've had a couple come up with all kinds of ideas. Most of those ideas will benefit their athletes but not the department in general. Anyway, this one guy started questioning me today about the books. "Why don't you blah blah blah?" And I would explain it to him. "Well, have you thought about blah blah blah?" Yes. I tried that but it didn't work. We went back and forth like this for a few minutes before I said, "I tell ya what. Since you have such GREAT and INNOVATIVE ideas regarding the books, I am going to recommend to Dr. Boss that YOU be in charge of them in the fall." Ha! This guy hasn't got sense to pour piss out of a boot and he's trying to tell me how to do my job. He backed off his suggestions real quick. You would have thought I offered up prayer at an atheist convention by the look on his face.
I did a STUPID thing yesterday. My summer intern's grandfather passed away. When he called in to say he would try to come to work, I offered up the following words of kindness: "Don't worry about coming in. As you know, things are really DEAD around here." As soon as I said it my tongue was trying to lick it back in. GYA!! We both got kinda quiet. I knew we were thinking the same thing but couldn't say the obvious out of respect to his grandfather. I felt like an idiot.
Timber (my dog) is making me feel awful. He's been all over me for the past few days like he's never loved me so much in his whole life. He doesn't know he's going under the knife on Tuesday. I have a feeling he won't be as loving on Tuesday evening when I bring him home. I'm questioning my decision to neuter him. Ugh. It's a good thing he can't speak human. Have you ever noticed how tender a lab looks at ya? It's hard to meet his gaze this week...
Buenos noches. 5月23日 BloggingThe first blog I ever read on msn spaces was Three Blog Night. Who could resist that name/title? I was hooked. I went from there to Larry the Cheeto and Mad Suburban Dad and then I knew I wanted to get in on this whole bloggin' thang. It wasn't long before I was going to as many spaces as I could to leave comments so they would come to my space and leave me a comment. I would see the number of comments the other spaces had and I wanted as many comments as they were getting. Didn't happen. I topped out at 13 comments - once. Everytime someone would add me to their blog list I would let out an excited "YES!!!" Especially when one of the "top space" people added my site because I thought that meant I would soon be having so many visitors that I would set records - people all over the country would be reading and commenting on MY BLOG. Shoot, I would be Space of the Week, All-Star Space, Space Hall of Fame. Books would be written about my space. I would probably be on Oprah... {big sigh} Nada. I'm crushed. I spill my guts, attempt humor, but I'm still a mediocre blog with a few loyal readers (whom I cherish!!). I've learned a few things, tho. What I started as a fun thing has the potential to be hurtful and could cause a lot of trouble. I saw it happen at someone else's blog and their life went topsy-turvy as a result of someone interpreting their words incorrectly. I've learned that it's no wonder there are so many religions because people read things soooo differently. A man writes about his love for his wife and the humor in their marriage and someone interprets that as the guy being a dawg. Uh!? I've learned that the blog went from a "fun thing" to a huge "ego thing." I couldn't wait to have someone tell me I'm funny, or that I write well - anything positive. People I've never seen, don't know, will probably never know, became important to me because I wanted - shoot - needed their comments. I guess it's just natural to want positive affirmation for what we're doing, but how quickly I got caught up in "blogging for others" instead of just writing. I catch myself trying too hard like the nerd in school that wanted to be friends with the cool kids. Sometimes I read some of the blogs that have been selected as a top blog and I see in their writing that they've done the same thing I have (yet more successfully - ha!). Some of these bloggers have gained Superstar status. I like to read archived entries and then compare them to current ones. There's usually quite a difference as the writers become more confident, as they gather a following. It's cool as hell - and I'm mostly pea-green with envy. And I'm fascinated. I've always known the written word is powerful, and as a result I've never thought anything I could write would be worth "putting out there." The feeling I get when someone comments that they think I'm funny is incredible and soooo addictive. I feel like I've had an epiphany. I pledge to write from the heart and not worry about becoming a blogging superstar. I pledge not to "try so hard." I'm not a pretentious person - I'm more of a "what you see is what you get" kinda girl - and if you like it, fine, but I'm not gonna let my concern over someone else's opinions rule my keyboard anymore. I'm too old for such silliness and I'm pissed at myself for BEING so silly. I definitely had a junior high moment.
Aw, hell. I'm lying out my ass. I really really really want to be a superstar blogger and I really really really want Oprah to have me as a guest on her show to talk about my blog. 5月21日 A Blog about Nothing...I was curious about all the flies in my house but now I'm offended. Instead of being all over me they are clamoring at the window acting like they want OUT really bad. So what's wrong with my house that not even flies want to stick around? I mean, these bastards live on dead animals and doo-doo, but they want OUT of my house??? I think, between Timber and myself, that we ought to provide enough yech to keep some flies interested. Well, I went postal on them this morning and killed about 5 that were on the kitchen window. I talked to some friends the other day and it seems my house is not the only one afflicted with the "fly plague." They're everywhere. The weather here is conducive to all kinds of weird stuff - like flies, swarming termites, black mold, big-ass fleas and mosquitos, and these roaches that are HUGE. We call them "water bugs" as that doesn't sound as gross as "roach" but they are just roaches. I hate stepping on the "water bugs" because they're so big it makes a horrid noise. Blech. Even on a regular extermination schedule the bugs still make an appearance. Then, because of the poison, you find them legs up in the house. When I had cats they used them like hockey pucks, batting them all around the house.
I've discovered that I have an addiction....a sickness. It concerns fabrics and fabric stores. There's a joke amongst seamstresses that "whoever has the most fabric when they die wins." I'm definitely a contender. I used to be able to avoid this problem when I had to make a planned trip to a fabric store in order to buy patterns and cloth, but then WalMart added all this to their stores and I am at risk everytime I go buy toilet paper or toothpaste. Last night I cut out a pair of pants, a blouse, a baby blanket, and a skirt. Cutting out is the worst part of sewing for me. And I can't make a project that takes more than a few days because my attention span runs out. I'm really not very good at sewing, but I enjoy it. It's like putting a puzzle together - with thread. I don't do buttonholes and I struggle with zippers, but I muddle through. I've learned that it's not a good thing to let people know you have knowledge of sewing. It's amazing how many people don't know how to hem or sew on buttons or make minor repairs. At work I finally had to be a turd and tell people I just don't have time to do things for them (Except the boss & his wife. I'm busy, but not that busy, and I'm not stupid! Besides, she brings me Starbucks gift cards for my efforts.). I don't mind doing a few things but kids were bringing me stuff just about every week for a button, or a rip, or a zipper... I volunteered to repair a few football jerseys and before I knew it I was doing nearly every sport. Pert near ruined my sewing machine so I had to stop as nobody offered to pay to have my machine fixed. (Grrr!) Do they not teach sewing in home ec anymore? Do they even teach home ec? This is another area where I feel like a dinosaur.
I got my pedicure yesterday. AWESOME. Ka-Ching wasn't there but the new girl was so funny. She spoke English better than Ka-Ching and she was so bubbly that the pedicure was as much fun as it was relaxing. Everybody should get pedicures, men and women. I never believed I would enjoy somebody rubbing on my feet but it's the bomb-diggidy.
I did NOT go to the fish-fry. The only people going from my department were the football coaches and they weren't planning to take their wives. I knew they would sit with the other football coach types so I wouldn't have anyone to visit with. I'm sure my old guy was disappointed. Ha!! His son in the Wranglers was probably relieved. Double Ha!
Our women's golf team participated in their national tournament last week. Don't be impressed. Two from each region go and there are only two teams in our region. We sucked. The golf coach called in and sounded miserable. We talked about how alligators had attacked and killed some women in Florida since he had arrived with the team. Then I asked if he had taken them to the beach to which he replied, "No, but I told them they could go swimming in the canal." Hahahahaha!! He's a pistol.
Okay, it's lunchtime and I'm starvin' like Marvin. I fixed some brussel sprouts. Pugh. If the flies don't like the smell of those I don't know WHAT they'd like! How desperate were the first people who ate foods that stink? Brussel sprouts, cabbage, boiled chicken, baked fish, boiled eggs, etc....
Have a good Monday.
5月18日 Possessed...I don't know what's goin' on around here. I think I may have to seek an exorcism if not for me, then definitely the house. There are flies as big as my head on my windows and back door - tons of 'em. I'm sure it's the East Texas version of The Amityville Horror. All I can think of are the maggots that were eating the dead possum in my yard before I picked it up and put it in the trash for garbage pickup. YECH YECH YECH - and a big shiver. What if they got pissed off at me for nabbing their food source and now they've hatched into flies and are at my windows and door to do something to me in revenge. OH, MY GOSH. I kinda scared myself. I'll probably have a maggot nightmare. I am, of course, proving my dominion over these little creatures with a good old fashioned fly-swat. This is the same fly-swatter I used to swat Timber with when he was younger so everytime I whack a fly the dog has an anxiety attack.
We had a "pot-luck" luncheon at work today. First of all, I hate forced fellowship with co-workers. I don't dislike any of the people yet I am uncomfortable at work gatherings. Who knows? Sometimes I just have to accept that I'm crazy as a bat and go on with my business. Anyway, I was up until about 11:00 p.m. last night making a faux key-lime pie because I decided it would be cheaper to make my own graham cracker crust as opposed to using the store-bought kind. So now I have graham cracker dust all over the kitchen because I was grinding the buggars up in the blender when it burped or something and dust got thrown out the top like a volcano getting ready to erupt. Then I used a can of limeade that had been in the freezer for awhile so it was less limey than I expected so I had to squeeze a couple of real limes for flavor. My good limes I had for tequila shots! It's a travesty. But it all worked out fine and the pie was loved by one and all. But, considering the adventure that became my homemade lime pie, I was at a medium to high level of pissivity when some assholes brought in grocery-store made food. "They didn't have time to cook. " "They were too tired to fix anything." "They didn't have anything to fix." Waa-waa-waa. Better call the Waaaaaambulance!! One funny thing: The athletic director donated some leftover tournament shirts for door prizes. One of the trainers won one and he was already wearing the same exact shirt!
Did y'all know Paul McCartney and Heather Mills broke up? As if it hasn't been on the news and every morning show in the world, and Extra has done a segment about it every night. Okay, I know it's stupid to watch Extra but it's in the time slot between the evening news and the show I watch at 7:00 p.m.. Good logic, right? Ya buyin' it? Ha!!
We only work half a day on Fridays in the summer, and tomorrow is our first one. I can't tell ya how excited I am about this. I'm gonna go see my girl Ka-Ching and get a pedicure. Suh-weet.
I've been invited to a party tomorrow night. I'm debating on whether to go or not. It's a "fish fry." They'll have about a kajillion pounds of fried catfish, cole slaw, potato salad, pinto beans, tomato relish, ketchup, hush puppies, sweet tea, a keg of beer, and a margarita machine. What they won't have is somebody to drive my full and drunk ass home, and they live about 15 miles from my house. The ol' guy that's throwin' the party told me he and I could "sneak off" for awhile. Hahahahha. Last year he kept kissin' me on the mouth. He was drunk as Cooter Brown. It was uncomfortable, tho, because his very sweet wife was there, too. I just looked at her and rolled my eyes and she laughed. No braggin' but if I decided to do that ol' boy a favor I would tear his old ass UP. Ha!! (But only if it's true that having sex is like riding a bike - once you know how you can always do it. It's been awhile.....) What's really sad is that he has a son in his thirties who is a cutie who wears boots and tight Wrangler jeans. Mm-mm-mmm. The old daddy is hitting on me and I'm ogling the son, who probably feels the same way about me ogling him as I do when his daddy kisses me on the mouth. Too sad!
If I go to the party I'll tell you all about it, but if I do sneak off to the barn with the old guy I don't think I'll admit to it... 5月16日 HeyOh, my GOSH work is boring right now!! I know, I know - three days ago I was pumped that nobody was there. It is as you suspected - I just can't be happy. Ha!! My boss is bored, too. He was cleaning out closets and drawers today. I think I caused him some angst because I kept digging things back out of the trash telling him we might NEED this or that. "For WHAT?" Umm, SOMETHING! A director from a different department called for my boss today and I told him he was making copies of some forms. The guy says, "Wow. You have him trained well." As my boss walked back into the office I put my hand over the receiver and whispered loudly "DON'T tell him I am supposed to make the copies." It was funny. I worked for a traditional, old-school (excuse the pun since I work at a college) boss for 18 years. One who dictated letters, wouldn't answer his own phone or dial his own calls, etc. (Yes, I am a dinosaur who knows how to take shorthand AND I made coffee for the boss.) Anyway, my new boss is young and computer literate and very independent. It's great. He's great. One day somebody went into the boss's office and sat for quite a long time just chitty-chatting. I could tell the boss wanted the guy to leave so I went to another office and called my boss. I said, "Don't let on who this is. Act like I'm somebody important. Soon the guy will hopefully get the message and leave." Which he did. It's my boss's favorite "old secretary" trick and we've used it several times since. One day there was a coach in his office that sat and sat so I called the boss, except I did it from my own desk which is right next to the boss's door well within earshot of anyone in his office. I say, "If that guy is bothering you just act like this is an important call and you are being called to a meeting." Ha! My boss returned the favor this week. A retired instructor came by to visit (and visit and visit) until it got to the point where I was responding with "uh-huh" "yeah" "ewwww". So the boss left the office and called me from his cell phone. Dummy me, tho, didn't recognize his voice right away so I'm being all professional and trying to be helpful. He finally said "this is 'the boss'" and then I had to play like I knew who he was all the time. I think he knew, tho, that I didn't. I felt pretty stupid.
My friend the basketball coach is pregnant. There was some concern that she might not be able to conceive as she has had fibroid tumors/cysts for years, but luckily things have worked out for her and her husband (who is an absolute HUNK). My friend is always telling me to rub her stomach here or feel the baby poking out there. We've been rubbing and patting this one spot that she surmised was the baby's head. Well, after her last checkup the doctor told her that the spot she's been having me love on as the baby's head is actually one of those fibroids that has moved upward as the baby grows. Ha!! I'm trying to get her to name the baby LaFibroid. I also told her I'm not feelin' nuttin' else!! No telling what it might be.
Timber (the dog) tried to kill me last weekend. I was sewing and he came and put his head under my arm to throw my hand over his back for petting purposes. When he did that I jabbed a needle into my other hand. I talked UGLY about Timber's mother. He didn't know what the heck happened so I ended up apologizing to him for yelling. I'm so puppy-whupped. I will get my revenge on May 30. Keep Timber in your thoughts that day as he will be getting the twins snipped. He'll keep the twig but the berries will be plucked. I called my regular vet and they estimated a little over $300 for the procedure. WHAT??? So I called the Spay & Neuter clinic that's next door to the Humane Society and they're gonna do it for $60. I'll feel like shit if something goes wrong due to my cheapness. I will spring for the additional pain medicine. I don't know if it will help Timber but it will definitely lessen my guilt for getting him a vet off the clearance rack.
I FINALLY got my credit from WalMart on the disastrous internet ordering experience. Only took a month! What a nightmare.
Oh my GOD - the Astros are getting creamed. Ugh. The Rodriguez guy that is pitching looks about twelve. That's another yechy thing about getting old - the fact that athletes, doctors, and everybody else, look so dang young. I liked it a lot better when the only people who looked younger than I were at the drive-thru window at McDonald's or sacking my groceries.
Later... 5月14日 I'm off the pity pot...I guess dreading Mother's Day was way worse than actual Mother's Day because, after my stint on the pity-pot yesterday and buckets of tears, I am fine today. It helps that my grandson [from my adopted son Ron] called. As soon as I heard his sweet little voice say, "Happy Mother's Day, Grandma" I was embarrassed for being so pitiful. Ron called, of course. He's only missed one Mother's Day since 1990 and that was because he was at Euro-Disney and didn't have his phone. Then Ashlee, a former student worker, called to wish me a good day. Ashlee's one of my heroes. That child has worked her way through high school and college. Her birth humans are so incredibly selfish that they don't realize what an amazing kid they have, no thanks to them. Ashlee graduated from college yesterday, and also works three jobs. Incredible.
I took Timber to the lake yesterday to play in the water and run. He loved it. The lake is so low, tho, that he ended up a muddy mess. As Timber ran across the green lawn with the lake in the background he looked beautiful, like a dog-food commercial. He's so funny. I picked up his necklace (collar) and he started jamming his head through it so he could go out the front door. (He only goes out the front when he's wearing his necklace and that means he's goin' somewhere.) I think he was afraid I was gonna leave him at my friend's house because he kept running back to the porch to make sure I was still there. As we walked to the car a rabbit ran from the flower bed to underneath the garage. Timber excitedly gave chase and whacked his head on the garage when the rabbit ran under. He gets so excited he forgets to watch where he's going. He often hits his head on doorjams because he MUST walk in front of me but has to keep turning around to see if I'm still following him. (You never know when I might make a sneaky move in this 1100 square foot house and lose him. I guess he's scared I'll fart and he won't get to smell it.)
Well, this weekend turned out to be an emotional rollercoaster - from whining and crying yesterday to feeling so incredibly blessed to be remembered and loved by such great people today. The electricity went off for about an hour and a half today and I thought I would go crazy. It's amazing how addicted I am to the television being on, whether I'm actually watching it or not. Of course, today it went off right in the middle of the Astros game with Petitte pitching. CRAP! I got all kinds of stuff done around the house, though, with no distractions. I think I may have to throw my own breaker every weekend so I'll be forced to clean. Ha!
I'm looking forward to the coming week - NO STUDENTS, FEW COACHES! Bonus!! I hope all of you have a great week... 5月13日 Dear Mother....This will be my tenth year without you on Mother's Day. The first one without you was tough and I cried most of the day. The next few years were really tough but not as bad as the first. Then, as time heals, there were a few bearable Mother's Days - not great, but bearable. This year, for some reason, I miss you as much as that first one. I would give anything to "have to" wake up early in the morning so I could make your breakfast in bed. That was always fun, especially when Becky did all the cooking and I was the designated tray decorator. I remember walking outside wearing whomever's jacket and shoes were by the door, trudging through the early morning dew to pick wildflowers for your tray - never mind that you were allergic to them. Becky would send me, once I was old enough to carry hot liquid, with your coffee so you wouldn't get out of bed before "we" were finished cooking. I remember Becky carrying the tray, walking verrry slowly to avoid spilling or dropping. And no matter what, whether the toast was burned or eggs runny, you ate it like you were at the Ritz. Every year's effort was the best you ever had, and I remember our proud smiles that we had pleased you - like you were the frickin' queen or something. Ha! There are so many things I still need to talk to you about. I neeeeeed you to hug me. Your last words to me, "Don't be afraid," have haunted me. I was afraid. I was afraid of how things would be for me without you. After nearly eleven years without you there are still days when I catch myself reaching for the phone to call and tell you something that I know you would love to hear. I especially want to tell you that Collyn had another beautiful baby boy, as pretty and perfect as her first one. They're so funny! And Carrie is pregnant - can you believe that? I never thought she would have a baby. You would love Joe's wife, Carrie's husband. Jeb has a little boy that looks so much like him. And Joe's gonna be a daddy! He'll be a great dad. I want to tell you that I know Joe's little girl - did you know it's a girl? - is gonna love sleeping on his chest like I did my Daddy's because of that deep voice. It always hurts so much when I remember that I can't call you. I know I was your favorite. I know that even if we fought and fussed that we shared an amazing bond. I'm a lot like you. I look like you, my mannerisms are like your's. Thank you so much for your unconditional love. Thank you for teaching me how to do things, and instilling in me enough confidence in my abilities to try something before I say I can't do it. I don't know how in the world you managed it but you left a hole in my heart, yet filled it at the same time. I miss you so much. I miss laughing with you, arguing with you, crying to you, getting your advice or opinion whether I wanted it or not. You were the BEST, Mother. I hope I told you - I hope you knew....
Love, Angie
P.S. You know what's worse than not having a Valentine on Valentine's Day? Not having a Mother, and not being a Mother, on Mother's Day... 5月11日 My Evening...I don't think I could be more unproductive in the evening if I tried. I get home from work around 5:15 pm unless I have to run errands. I unlock my front door, get my mail, then throw it on the couch on my way to the bathroom. I punch the power button on the tv as I walk by so I can hear the news. On my way to the backdoor to let Timber in I kick off my shoes. [Can you imagine if I worked in a real office and had to wear heels instead of my tenny-shoes?] Ahhh. I stop back by my room to lose the bra (AHHHHHHH), and then it's back to the couch to go through the mail and watch the news. [I tell ya what - if my boobs didn't look like two midgets fighting under a sheet when I go braless, I wouldn't wear one of the damn things EVER. Besides, I have to hold the monsters up somehow! Screw old age - screw gravity!] After the news Timber and I go to the kitchen to grab some supper. I fill his bowl but he won't eat until he sees what I'm having and if he can beg a piece of it, which he usually does. [I hate when Timber is begging and he "slimes" me. The other night he had a string of drool hanging off his mouth about a foot long. Disgusting.] Then we watch tv for awhile in the living room. When we get tired I take my dirty dishes to the kitchen and put them in the dishwasher. It takes all week to fill it up unless I cook something really special which I don't unless I'm expecting company. [Okay, I confess. Sometimes the dishes pile up in the sink for a coupla days. I didn't want y'all to think I'm a slob so I lied about loading the dishwasher right away.] After that it's time to brush my teeth, put on my comfy t-shirt, and head to bed to watch tv a bit more. [Yes, I'm addicted to television. I love the shit. It's the only roommate I've ever consistently gotten along with.] Timber (the dog) goes to bed the same time I do so he can get lots of snuggling and scratching. Then it's lights out. We do this every weekday. Every stinking day. I'm appalled because, when ya write it down, it seems so boring. It probably sounds terribly dull to most of you; those of you who are incredibly busy probably think it sounds like heaven. For me it's comfortable. I'm such a homebody. I occasionally vary my routine for a happy hour with friends or a ballgame.
Last night I went for drinks with some buds. We're all mostly the same age - between 45 & 55. There must have been something about those of us who were teenagers in the late sixties/seventies. As I looked around the table all but two had long hair. Seven of us had hair past our shoulders, four of us had really long hair. I thought that was interesting. Of course, the group was definitely full of free-thinking liberal types so that might have something to do with it. I guess we're renegades, thumbing our noses at the general belief that older ladies shouldn't have long hair. HA!
My mother and grandmother had long hair, too. They were very much free spirits. My mother was bohemian, especially for East Texas where people are often so uptight they squeek when they fart like letting the air out of a balloon while pulling the opening sideways. You can't get much more free-spirited than my grandmother. Holy cow. She had three friends who played bridge with her 2-3 times a week. While these old biddies played bridge they would get snockered. Once a month they went to Mexico to buy more liquor because it was so much cheaper there. One of the "girls" took the springs out of her backseat so they could stuff it with liquor. They would fill the trunk and under the backseat with bottles of whiskey, rum, tequila, and vodka. Then they would buy a bottle of vanilla and, as they pulled through customs they'd smile sweet little old lady smiles at the guard and say, "Honey, do we have to pay tax on this?" They would "honey" this and "honey" that and then drive away with enough booze in the car to stock a bar for weeks. They figured out what time the guards changed shifts so they would go to their hotel room on the Texas side, empty the car, and go back in the evening for another load. They did this about once a month. By the time they drove back home they would be drunker'n Cooter Brown. Those were some drinkin' old ladies. (In the summer my cousins and I would get my grandmother drunk so she'd pass out and then we would do whatever we wanted. It never dawned on any of us that she was probably an alcoholic - we just thought she was a drunk. Ha!) If I tried to drink the amount my dear old grandmother did I would be commode clutchin', snot-slingin' drunk and would need two days off work to recuperate. Yes, I tried it - several times - and that's what happened. Yech.
Well, as I write this I am burning my "layin' on the couch watching tv time" so I guess I'll finish. G'night. 5月9日 A dog's gonna do what a dog's gonna do...I hate to tell this story in light of the efforts being put forth by Ms. Nadine Hightower ( www.spaces.msn.com/velvettush ) to save two orphan possums, but it happened to me and my dog and I feel the need to share. For all animal lovers, animal rights activities, and humaniacs, please know that Timber has not been trained to do this sort of thing - he was just doin' what a dog's gonna do....
Last night around 10:00 pm I put Timber out for his evening pee so we could go to bed. He has a bunch of chewed up toys in the backyard and often brings one in with him, so last night when I opened the door and saw him pick something up I thought nothing of it - until I heard a tiny squeek. Timber has long since chewed the noisemakers out of his toys so I looked to see what on earth had made the noise. Here's where it gets gross. I saw "it" right about the time Timber laid his prize, his conquest, proudly on the floor of my bedroom - a baby possum. Actually, I saw the tail first and thought he had a rat, which sent me into spastic shivers and some slight screaming. I was kinda relieved to see it was a possum. Timber picked the thing back up and I tried to get him to go back outside. My spastic gyrations and shaky commands were confusing him, so he dropped the possum back onto the floor. I don't know if you've ever heard the expression "playing possum" but it really is named after a defense tactic used by real possums when they pretend to be asleep or dead until their prey leaves them alone, then they are able to get away. I was pretty sure, from the tiny "crunching" I had heard that this possum wasn't playing - but I didn't want to take any chances. I wasn't about to touch the nasty thing, especially if it was faking, so I got a pair of tongs out of the kitchen and picked it up. I threw the little dead thing outside. It was yechy. I went back to my room and saw that Timber had squeezed a little turd out of that possum so I swept up the "possum dust" and then used some disinfectant on my floor. Did you ever get "cooties" when you were a kid? Well, I felt like I had MAJOR COOTIES from this whole incident and I just wanted to shake out my whole body while saying "blahblehblahblehblahhhhh". Timber looked at me like his feelings were hurt that I didn't like the gift he brought me but luckily short term memory doesn't seem to be his strong suit. This dog ate half a pizza, several dog treats, 2 cups of dog food, a can of dog food, and still went for the kill. Ironically, since he had recently lost weight from his mating and flea incidents, I splurged on really good dog food so the crazy thing would have better nutrition. "Yes, MizAngie, I'll have the expensive Iams dog food with a side of dead possum."
It's hard to believe I live right in the middle of a small city yet still have possums and coons roaming the area. I can't leave any kind of cat or dog food outside or the wild critters will eat it. I opened my front door one night and there was a family of 5 racoons on my porch. I thought I was hallucinating a Disney movie.
I grew up in the country. We had chickens, cows, goats, pigs, horses, dogs, and lots of cats. It was understood that we were at the top of the food chain so I saw livestock and chickens killed for our table. I saw my dad and brother shoot wild critters that were a threat to the livestock, including possums, armadillos, racoons, skunks, wolves, etc. I lost lots of cats to natural causes. Death was as much a part of our lives as anything else. It was irritating to lose chickens and eggs, sad to lose a favorite cat or dog, but there were always more where that came from. Now, however, I am citified. It really bothered me to have that possum in my house and I got a sick feeling in my stomach when I heard the bones crunch and the little death squeek. It was gross, yet I felt sad for the stupid little possum. I have no idea what his last moments were in the backyard. I don't know if Timber chased him down or if he was puny and slow. More than likely he fell out of a tree and Timber pounced on him, thinking he was a toy. I've spent more time in the last night and day thinking about that one baby possum than I did my whole life for any other wild critter that crossed my path (except for deer, I worry about deer).
Interesting note (well, interesting to me): Several years ago I visited Washington, DC with my sister. We were traveling the interstate between South Carolina and DC when I commented to my sister that there was something weird about the drive that I just couldn't put my finger on. She said, "There're no dead animals." "Huh?" "We've driven miiiiiles and haven't seen a dead anything on the side of the road." That was it! In Texas you can't go five miles without seeing something dead in or beside the road. Weird.
Timber has done several things lately that could make me reconsider my wish to die and come back as my dog. He is terribly loved and spoiled but this whole possum thing was disturbing, the flea infestation was traumatic, and then screwing wildly for a week and a half... Wait. Well, I may need to think about this some more... 5月8日 Office stuff..."Chuck the Intern Turned Supervisor's" first day of work was last Monday. Tomorrow will be his last until the end of May. Crap! He can't help it - he's taking his war on terrorism on the road. In other words, he has to go do training in Korea. He keeps telling me the "deals" he can get in Korea on purses, bedspreads, etc. I would like to take him up on his offer to bootleg me a fancy bedspread at a cheap price but I'm too damn picky. What if I hate it? For some reason I picture him bringing some kind of shiny fake-satin comforter with an oriental fern print that would look better in a whorehouse than in my little cottage. So, okay, I could get him to bring me some kind of counterfeit Gucci purse or a Coach bag - but there again, what if he brings some style that looks like my grandmother should carry it instead of something hip and cool that I would like. (Because I'm all about hip and cool, being a fashion plate 'n all.) He said if I didn't like the stuff I could sell it on ebay and make a bunch of money. El caca de toro. I'm so sick of people telling me how much frickin' money I could make on ebay. I asked my nephew to list some stuff for me - really nice antiques. I didn't want to sell them for less than what they were worth and he didn't want to list them for what they were worth because he didn't want to pay the whatever charge, so they're in a box doing nothing. I digress.
This is finals week at work. It's sad to see some of the kids leave, some of them not so much. After 28 1/2 years it's weird that all the kids start looking very much alike. Someone will ask if I remember somebody and I can't even remember what years they attended. All the years have blended into one mosh pit of students coming and going. There are a few that stand out but not many.
The boss was cleaning out a closet today and found some "old balls" that he was trashing. Now, y'all know me so you know I had to tell him not to throw his balls away. Told him he should be proud of his balls, even if they were old. Asked what size the balls were. It's a sickness.
An old friend called me at work today and did that "disguise the voice, be funny, make her guess who this is" thing. UGH. I haven't talked to this guy in about 12 years. He probably wouldn't have needed to disguise his voice after all this time, he wasn't funny, and I didn't even try to guess as this type of act does NOT amuse me. I know, I know - I sound like a bitch. SO? The conversation would have been a lot more welcome if he had just said, "Hey, this is MIKE." Then I could have acted glad to hear from him, we could have visited awhile, and it would have been a pleasant time. What a geek. Uh, HIM not me.
"Chuck the Intern Turned Supervisor" came into my office today and pointed out that I was really concentrating on my work as I was very intent on my computer screen. He sounded impressed. I busily said, "Yeah, I need to get this done." Take a hint, Chucky - go away! Then he walked around behind me and saw that I was IMing my niece. Sooooo busted. It was funny. He's funny.
One of the coaches says he wrote me a song. Everytime he calls he hums my song. It sounds amazingly like the happy birthday song, except it goes "Angelina hmm-hmm. Angelina hmm-hmmmmmm. Angelina hmm-hmm-hmmmmmm. Angelina hmm-hmm." (1) I hate the happy birthday song because I am o-l-d. (2) My name's not Angelina. Close, but no cigar. Okay, it's kinda cool having my own song. It'll never win a Grammy, but it's cool.
My student worker's last day is Friday. Bummer. If I had ever had a daughter I would want her to be just like Chesley. Tall, blonde, athletic, sweet, personable but not overbearing, volunteers at the Humane Society, loves her family, gets along with her parents - she's the bomb! I'm gonna miss her.
The boss had to play in a golf tournament today. He was "representin'." I had forgotten so when he reminded me I gave a thumbs up to "Chuck the Intern Turned Supervisor" and said "Allll right!" About midafternoon I realized that I had done absolutely nothing differently than I would have if the boss had been there. That was an unfun revelation. [Funny aside - I was tired of writing out the whole "Chuck the..." so I was gonna convert it to an abbreviation. I forget what that's called. Anyway, it worked out to Chuck TITS. hahahahhaha]
That's about all for today. Pretty boring stuff. One good thing about it being finals week is that next week the parking will be awesome.
5月5日 TimberI GOT MY BABY BACK TODAY!!! Timber is safely back at home, all humped out. He was very listless on the trip home so I figured we would just take a nap when we got to the house. He couldn't seem to get comfortable. On closer inspection the poor thing was covered with fleas!!! No wonder he hasn't been eating. I put him in the bathtub and gave him a really good bath with flea shampoo, which he loved. (You wouldn't BELIEVE how many dead m-f'ing fleas were in the bathtub!) Then I gave him some prednisone for the itching and put a fresh Frontline on him. It's normal to double-up on the Frontline during the summer but it's kinda early to have to start doing it already, but we will! That stuff is worth the money. I'll have to have the backyard treated next week. Timber is now zonked out at my feet as he won't get very far from me. (I LOVE THAT!) He is a tired little camper.
On the way home today I was, of course, talking baby talk to Timber. I turned my head toward the backseat and was kissing the air toward him when I noticed that the guy in the truck next to mine was looking at me crazy. Then, when the light turned green, he blew me a kiss and was on his way. I'm thinking, "Did he SEE the dog in the backseat or was he so mesmerized by my kisses that he was blinded with desire?" Ha!! It was soooo funny.
Speaking of my truck, I've been in a debate with a friend who says it isn't a truck. (It's a Tracker - what I like to call an SUV wannabee.) It's technically an SUV and is usually listed in the truck category. However, it's small so my buddy thinks it's more like a car. Now, "down here" we don't say things like "I'm gonna go git in my SUV and go to the store." No, it's either "truck" or "car." We will throw in a "van" every now and then.
We do the same kind of thing with other words, too. For instance:
Coke = any kind/flavor of soft drink. (What kind of Coke do you want? Um, I'll have a Dr. Pepper.)
Kleenex = any kind/brand of tissue.
Xerox machine = any kind/brand of copier.
Tennis shoes (tenny shoes) = any kind of sneaker or athletic shoe
Comet = any kind/brand of powdered bathroom cleanser.
Not sure why we do this.
It's weird to watch baseball games televised from Colorado, New York, Chicago, etc, where the people are still wearing jackets and coats. One of my pet peaves is and will always be the jackass sitting behind home plate who gets on his damn cell phone and then points to himself when the camera is aimed at the batter. GYA I hate that guy.
I called my friend in Louisiana today to wish him a happy Cinco de Mayo. A coupla years ago a group of us were having lunch at a Mexican food restaurant. Somebody said we would need to go back there for Cinco de Mayo. Jeff looked up and said, "Okay! When IS Cinco de Mayo?" HAHAHAHA. Like all good friends and/or family, we will not let him live down his funny boo-boo.
There's a whoooole bunch of pissed-off gringos in my little city. The local tv station did a story about how much the recent demonstrations have cost police and schools for added security and lack of state funding for absent students. The main resentment regarding Mexicans in Texas is how much it costs the State and its taxpayers for the indigent healthcare, WIC benefits (Women, Infants, & Children nutritional program), and education costs for additional (many who are non-English speaking) students. Wellll, now officials tell us that not only are those costs still astronomical but recent demonstrations, where people supposedly wanting to be Americans but are carrying Mexican flags, are costing us even MORE money. It's a little bit frustrating, especially when several of the people interviewed for the story can't speak English but the translator says that person has been here ten or more years. Immigration is the basis of our country, but I think it should be done legally.
Well, I think I'll join Timber in a little siesta. Heck, we're gonna go all out and have us some buenos noches!!
5月4日 Back to work...After five days off with nasty allergies I went back to work today. {sigh} I am delighted that I feel human again. My sinuses have been so infected that I haven't been able to smell. I could tell I was better today when I opened the door and the house reeked. I tracked the smell to a rotten potato in the hanging basket of taters. Nasty! Nothing smells worse than rotten potato or rotten orange, other than a dead something. Judging by the potato, the house has probably not smelled very fresh for several days but I just didn't know it!
I've read in a couple of spaces that some of you have dogs that steal "goodies" out of the cat's litter box. Well, Timber doesn't eat cat poop but after my recent bout with bad sinuses I am appalled to report that Timber eats boogers. I had a trashcan beside my bed where I would toss the tissue after I used it. I slid out of bed one morning and scattered all over the floor were bits of chewed up tissue. YECH. Now my tissue goes into a ziploc bag so nasty-ass can't get them. Ugh.
I'm "retrieving" my Lab, Timber, tomorrow after work. Yea!! Yea!!! I haven't been able to sleep well without my buddy. He'll be bringing his girlfriend Genny with him for the weekend but she will go home Sunday when her family gets back from Houston. I believe the magic has left their relationship as he seems to have given up his frantic humping. Thank goodness! I was dreading the drive home.
At lunch today, the coaches were teasing me about missing several days from the office. They were tattling on each other: "Mike sat in your chair." "Steve used your pen." (Grrr) "John faxed something." My response: "I know y'all think you're bullshittin' me but I KNOW somebody used my pen because they put it back in the tray backwards." Now, I was deadly serious but they seemed to think it was hilarious that I am so anal about the pen that I knew it was backwards. I'm just glad the guy that used to coach football is not there anymore. He would lower my chair to the lowest setting then hide around the corner until I came in and sat down. I never noticed, of course, until I sat down and had the shock of sitting further down than anticipated. I immediately would say, "Dammit, Dale!" Then he would come out giggling. These guys are hilarious. One of our coworkers recently had prostate surgery to remove cancer. When the guy was leaving work we didn't give him hugs and shed tears - oh no. We waved and said, "Hope you make it back, but if you don't we'll divvy up your stuff!" Before he returned to work, the guys put sticky notes on everything in the guy's office "tagging" it as theirs in the event that he croaked and didn't come back. Thus, when Sandy unlocked his office he was greeted with this warm display of us claiming his possessions. It really helped him ease back into the job. We had sticky notes on EVERYTHING.
Ah, yes. I work at a really fun place, with great folks. Sometimes I get s'mad at 'em I could pinch their heads off and crap down their necks, but for the most part I love 'em.
Doc introduced us to a space a few months ago written by SPC Yankton stationed in Iraq. He had to shut down his space for some reason but I am pleased to say that I heard from the soldier and he is doing fine. He hopes to be home in six months, so please keep him in your thoughts and prayers along with the rest of our troops. Thanks! 5月2日 Blah........Sent to me by a friend...
With all the sadness and trauma going on in the world at the moment,
it is worth reflecting on the death of a very important person, an event which almost went unnoticed last week. Larry LaPrise, the man who wrote "The Hokey Pokey", died peacefully at the age of 93. The most traumatic part for his family was getting him into the coffin. They put his left leg in.... then the trouble started. * * * * * * * * * * * * I'm at home today. I finally called and got some antibiotics now that it feels like I may cough up one or both lungs, my eyes have gone all "pinkeye" on me, and I can't smell or taste a damn thing. Since I look and feel like Fido's butt, I decided to take Timber and Genny to her house. Oh yeah, I took the "dog and porny" show on the road! I am now going to have to paint my vehicle so I won't be recognized. Seems that the backseat is not just a hotspot for frustrated teenyboppers. Oh, noooo; Timber went for it at 40 mph on one of the busiest streets in my town. Poor Genny, her head hanging out the window, could only ignore Timber's attempts. The people in the cars passing us got quite a show, and had quite a laugh. I took my cue from Genny and ignored the whole thing. Timber has been at Genny's for about four hours and I miss him like crazy. He's such a pest but I don't realize how much company he is until he isn't here. He truly is a very sweet dog. Crap. I'm ready to go get him and bring him home.
I've had it up to my goozle with Bill Parcells only acquiring "Parcells Guys" to play for the Cowboys. Well, except for the colossal idiot he hired in T.O.. I still gag when I think of that acquisition! Parcells drafting the son of a Parcells Guy gives me the same feeling I get when I see a college coach give his own son a scholarship. Rah! Free tuition - but can he really play? Or did he take a space that a better player could have had? I will be watching the Carpenter kid next season and blaming every little rookie mistake on the fact that he is a Parcells Guy.
I had some more stuff to say but my eyes are burning....must be time for Visine and another nap.... |
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