Thursday, July 31, 2008
Poor Bailey had a blood sample drawn (after the vet palpated her belly for a bit, feeling for any abnormalities) and he had extreme difficulty finding her vein. Like her human mama, her veins move around quite a bit when you are trying to stick the needle into it. I felt so bad watching her go through that! I personally know how much it sucks to keep getting stuck repeatedly with a needle till they find your vein. Then they needed to get a urine sample which meant literally squeezing the urine out of her, which I can assume is not a pleasant feeling. She also got a quick rabies shot. The vet wanted to then clip her hind claws (she is declawed in front) for me and so I gently went to move her body when suddenly it was like a scene out of 'When Animals Attack'. Simultaneously hissing, smacking with her paws, ears flattening flat on her head and sinking her sharp, pointed teeth into the top of my hand, by my thumb. While it hurt and I was surprised, I certainly don't blame her. I've got my battle wounds now, some bloody puncture holes which I immediately washed with soap and water and then the vet asst. gave me an ice pack to on put it. She is already a cat who does not liked to be handled (except by me) and I normally am really good at reading her signals but I was so preoccupied and I know she lashed out just becuz she was tired of being poked and prodded.
Anyway, $215.00 later, leaving the vet scratching his head, my battle wounds squeezing out drops of blood here and there, I cried the car ride home. Yes, there is so far nothing wrong with my cat and yet I cried on the way home. Why? If I can't find a reason for her behavior, then it will leave me with no choice but to find her a new home. And I cry at the thought of that. I don't like to play favorites with my pets but I have to say, that I feel like I have a very special bond with this kitty, unlike with any of my other pets. While I love my other pets equally, from the bottom of my heart, I know if (god forbid) I ever had to find them a home they'd settle right in, I would have nothing to worry about. Bailey, on the other hand, is a one-woman cat. Friends (and Big D) often tease me about how "unlovable" and bratty she is...yet I can honestly say this cat gives more unconditional loving to me then any feline I've ever seen. She loves to lay on my chest, purring like a motor boat, and she gives me sandpapery kisses to my neck and face. When I come home from work, I can call her name and this cat will come running to me, like a dog, with a long, happy and drawn-out hello-meow. While she is not one who likes to be held, she will let me pick her up at that time and bury my face into her thick black fur and call her "my pretty girl". Some people can't even touch her without her giving them the famous evil cat-eye and a low warning growl. *SIGH* I just don't see how it would work for her if after eight years of life with me, she had to live elsewhere.
I pray that doesn't have to happen. :-(
So, I'm not in the happiest of moods today. And to add insult to injury, Dunkin Donuts completely screwed up my coffee order...I could not drink it. *DOUBLE SIGH*
P.S. Big, HUGE, work changes about to happen. My company was bought by a multi-million dollar company. I am definitely slightly worried about my job. :-(
I just read this on the internet....I wonder....
""Recent evidence has shown that cats are not only social but that some of them suffer from separation anxiety in the absence of their attachment figure. Interestingly, one common finding in cats with separation anxiety is the tendency, even when the owner is present, to urinate on the owner's bed or other belongings. While the exact reasons for this are unknown, it may be that the anxious cat is evacuating its bladder where it feels secure."
Wednesday, July 30, 2008
While I'm sure I've made it known in the past how much I absolutely love, adore and crave reading books, I probably haven't gone into much detail about what I enjoy reading the most.
Vampires. Witches. The Supernatural. Anything out of the realm of ordinary (however I don't do sci-fi).
It all began as a 5th grader, when my teacher created his reading chart. For every book you read, you got a sticker next to your name on the chart. I was inspired. I wanted those stickers. I ran to the libray and took out the first book that caught my eye. I read it and then immediately informed my teacher so I could get my sticker. He eyed the book and said, "While I will still give you your sticker for reading this, it is not a fifth grade level book. I need you to choose better next time." Which I did, and I didn't look back. Billions of books later, as an early teen I was turned on to R.L. Stine (this is way before the Goosebumps series for all you youngin's out there! I'm talking about when he was writing for the early teenage crowd, not ten or twelve year olds), Christopher Pike (who I have to say was my FAVORITE...his writing was so intense. I think my favorite of his was Remember Me.) and L.J. (now goes by L.Jane) Smith (whose books always have a faint romance behind the supernatural theme, but not in a cheesy way. And her female lead characters were always learning so much about themselves as people and growing through the process, so I always found it very empowering) to name a few of my favorite young adult authors.
Then as I got older, into my early twenties, I dove headfirst into more of the Dean Koontz and Stephen King genre and stayed there for quite a few years. I have read so many different types of books, branching out to whatever piqued my interest as the years continued. In my late twenties and in my early thirties now, I read a lot of different authors, finding one of my new favorites, Jodi Picoult, whose unique, twisting-turning plots and heart-wrenchingly honest characters seem to suck me in from page one and hold me tight with clenched fists till the very last page of each of her books (so far i've read: The Tenth Circle, My Sister's Keeper, Harvesting the Heart, Nineteen Minutes, Vanishing Acts, Plain Truth, Keeping Faith, Mercy, and The Pact. I'm still in the process of "catching up"...there are a couple of her older books that I still have left to read, and I can hardly wait).
In the meantime, I've become VERY attached to a new book series that actually I first heard about after reading about it on other blogger's pages. If you haven't already guessed it, from my love of vampire stories, it's the Twilight Series by Stephanie Meyer. I am truly obsessed and became so, while reading the first book in the series. I'm currently reading the third book, Eclipse (at a crazily-fast rate due to the fact that the fourth book in the series comes out in TWO DAYS! Mind you, I've read almost the entire series (3 out of 4) in a matter of less than two weeks. I'm obsessed.) and also highly anticipating the movie, Twilight, which comes out on MY birthday, 12/12/08. I plan on dragging Big D's butt to the theater with me (cuz I don't know anyone IRL that is reading any of the Twilight series . Although Mrs. Kitty, if you wanna fly down to meet me in CT for the weekend, we could have a kick-ass birhtday celebration for yours truly, starting with the movie viewing! LOL I know, I know, no booze involved of course. *wink, wink*). So, now here I am, in love with a vampire (shhhh...don't tell Big D) and eagerly awaiting the next book AND the movie like a love-sick teenager.
Anyway, this vampire-worship (and witch and supernatural, etc.) could not have been made possible if it wasn't for that fifth grade reading chart and my ever-growing love for books. I will always, always encourage any children I know (including my future children!) to read. I can't explain in mere words how much it's broadened my awareness of the world around me, expanded my vocabulary as a learning child and most importantly turned me on to my other love, writing fiction of my own. I have not had anything published yet (my dream goal/aspiration/call it what you will is to have published a YA thriller novel of my own some day...) but I have so many short stories and stories started that it's insane. And sometime in high school, after being forced to do it for a creative writing class, I delved into the world of poetry. While I do not love poetry nearly as much as writing stories, it does satisfy my creative itch some days, in a snap. I am a woman with many crazy, important, creative thoughts swirling about in my eager brain and I owe it all to reading.
His skin is leathery,
Pale and white as a dove’s wing,
but not so lovely.
When it brushes
against my own,
His eyes are dark and black
like oily pools
His teeth, oh God, his teeth
are curved to twin jagged peaks
with a pearly opaque beauty
that makes me cringe.
He is wicked,
like a foul breeze
blowing into my
being and I can't help
but breathe him in.
I can’t expel him.
I crave his kiss
yet, I abhor it.
While smooth, cool teeth sink
into warm, inviting flesh,
throughout my body.
I am dying,
And I’ve never felt so
Monday, July 28, 2008
On the kitty front, I made Bailey a vet appointment for this Thursday morning. I'm eager to see what (if anything) is physically wrong with her. Is it bad, that I hope for something to be wrong? Only becuz if she is just using the rest of the house as her kitty litter box for NO reason, I don't think I'll have a good enough of an argument to keep her. Big D has definitely had it. And we definitely can't afford to keep replacing furniture (and carpet!) as she continues on her peeing-warpath.
I'm not doing a menu plan this week becuz I still need to grocery shop and I'm sure no matter what I say we'll eat, it will change. I am dieting (once AGAIN) becuz this morning I got on the scale and literally burst into tears. Not good. So I'm definitely going to be a little more rigid with my eating habits right now until I can feel that I am making at least a little bit of progress. And considering I'll be putting on a tea-length, strapless bridesmaid dress in mid-October (less than three months away) and standing up with a bunch of skinny-freaking-minnies...well the time has come, people. I had planned on going straight to the gym after work--my clothes are in the truck and everything!--until I saw my calendar here at work that says in big, bold letters: "DENTIST-CLEANING 7:00 PM". Ugh. And let me make it clear that I never would have made a Monday dentist appointment (Mondays suck ENOUGH) but they rescheduled my appointment that was supposed to be last week. Those buggars.
*BIG (explosive) SIGH*
I also want to apologize...I have not been up on my blog reading and commenting lately and I am sorry about that. Life has been chaotic lately, work and personal--not to mention the fact that I've been feeling pretty down lately--and so when I've had a little bit of free time at home lately, the last thing I wanted to do was hop on the computer (since I'm on one nine hours a day at work). So I PROMISE to try to get back into the swing of it this week AND I promise to acknowledge the few awards you lovely ladies have bestowed upon me...I will try my best to pass them on!
Peace out for now.
Friday, July 25, 2008
I'm so cranky I want to cry. Or scream. Or laugh insanely.
I woke up this morning from a pleasant and cool slumber and went out to make my breakfast. Big D had to leave early for work so I ate my breakfast alone and watched the news, while posting my Photostory Friday below. While I was sitting there on the couch I heard: munch, munch, munch and the hidden, guilty rustle of plastic.
With one devil dog on the loose in the house, those furtive noises always signal trouble. I called Daisy out to me and at the same time, Tucker came over to investigate. Whenever Daisy has food or some item in the house that she should not have, and Tucker comes near it, she attacks. Yes, my 19 lb. terror attacks my 90 lb. all-muscle yellow lab. All hell broke loose: the scared lab ran, tail between his legs, I shrieked at the 19 lb. terror, she growled and acted like she was going to attack me (we've had many, many instances in the past with my little devil dog that I don't feel like going into now. Generally she is a dog who is as sweet as sugar, but she is aggressive over food and toys....suffice it to say, she can be evil sometimes). Anyway, I grabbed Daisy by the scruff of her neck (supporting her little bum of course!) and kept her a safe distance so she would not bite me and put her in her cage. Whenever this happens, inwardly I feel like the worst person in the world, since my dog wants to bite me. Her mama. The hand who feeds her, the face who kisses and loves her. Ugh. This is not normal behavoir. But that's beside the point today; I picked up the chewed-up plastic sandwich bag off the floor and then proceeded to hop into the shower. I had to grab clothes for the day, so dressed in only a towel with another towel turban-like on my head, I proceeded out to the living room to grab my glass of water where I left it. I suddenly heard a pitiful kitty-cat mewling. I've heard that sound before when I accidentally locked Bailey, my cat, in a closet or on the sunporch (don't ask). LikeI mentioned in a previous post, I always leave my bedroom door shut.
I proceeded to the bedroom, filled with dread. I opened the door.
Ms. Pee-body, Bailey, came racing out of our bedroom.
The smell hit me before I stepped into the room.
Oh DEAR GOD, NO!!
Bailey had pissed and shit on my unmade bed. I shrieked for the second time this morning and started to clean it up and raced downstairs to throw the soiled sheets and blankets into the washing machine, cursing at the top of my lungs the whole way. My damn towel kept coming off and my living room blinds were open but did I care that I could be possibly flashing my girly bits to all of my neighbors? Not a freakin' chance. I was beyond caring at that point. It took me a good 20-25 minutes of carefully blotting with paper towels then applying all types of upholstery cleaners and sprays before I felt secure enough in that I had gotten out the stain. (Fingers crossed.)
With a sigh, I turned and reached for my pair of tan pants (my only 1 of like 3 pairs that currently fit me and I REFUSE to buy any more) and for the third time that morning, shrieked at the top of my lungs. My freakin' air conditioner, that had been running all night in our bedroom window, had leaked water ALL OVER MY PANTS. My one out of only like 2 or 3 pairs that FIT and that was CLEAN. I called quickly in to work, explained I would be late, and then ransacked my closet for a pair of pants that I could squish my fat into. Quick blew dry my hair and raced out the door, realizing my throat was totally sore from all the shrieking. Left for work, text messaging Big D about the cat and got his message back that he hated her and wanted to get rid of her. Immediately welled up in tears in the car and explained to him that I couldn't think about getting rid of my fur-ball without being insanely upset. I could tell, even through text, that he was immediately contrite, knowing how difficult decision this would be for me and he told me to make a vet appointment to see if the VET could get to the bottom of this, before any drastic measures are taken.
At work, things started to quiet down and I started to feel mellow. It was a short-lived feeling.
My boss had just left to run to Panera to grab our lunch when she suddenly called, all frantic, and half-shouted out "Cop with a big gun in our parking lot! Put me on with Steve (owner) RIGHT NOW!"
simultaneously my Whoa. Of course I could not locate the owner, so I sucked in a loud breath in surprise whilecoworker, George, was peeking out the front door at a police cruiser ripping through the parking lot and my boss, still on the phone in my ear, shouted, "Tell George to get back inside right now!" Which I did. I patched her call thru to next in command, and then went to stand by the door with George, trying to quietly tell the students outside to get their behinds INDOORS. Stat. Would you believe some of those dumb ass students just continued to puff away on their cigarettes? (and I'm not talking about kids...these are grown ups who should KNOW BETTER!!!)
I suddenly saw the big, jacked-up uniformed cop sitting on the picnic table holding a huge-ass rifle in his hands, staring intently at the street. My adrenaline started pumping instinctively and I started shaking. I was so absorbed with staring that I totally didn't even think to take a pic w/my cell to share with you guys...shame on this blogger! LOL I should have.
Anyway, the cop was sitting right near MY vehicle and it looked like he was looking inside so I almost peed my pants, wondering what the heck he expected to find, then he started peering under all the vehicles, all the while holding this big rifle at the ready. I realized he must have been on the look out for someone.
Anyway, as suddenly as it all started, the drama ended. Turns out there was an armed robbery (with guns) somewhere in Wethersfield (a nearby town) and a car matching the description of the getaway car was parked across the street from us so they were staking it out. Once they found out the owner of the car and knew it wasn't someone from the robbery, the cops packed up their huge-ass rifles and left!
my And now here I sit, about an hour and twenty minutes before I can leave, silently stewing becuz my freakin' boss wants me to "pitch in to be fair to her" and clean our shared bathroom in the office down here. (we have multiple bathrooms throughout the school that are cleaned by professionals but for some reason this one bathroom in our office, is not included).
DUDE, scrubbing toilets is not on my freakin' job description! I'm so irritated that I have no choice and I have to do it.
I'M SO PISSY TODAY AND I JUST WANT TO GO HOME.
Big D's family to be precise. He briefly touched upon (in his 15-year meme) how he was adult-adopted in his early twenties.
Daryl's Gramp and I are like two peas in a pod. We have a very similar sarcastic wit and often "gang up" on Big D, all in good fun of course. He is a loving, gentle man, despite his big lumber-jack size, who shares a special bond with Big D. Every year they go hunting together and those couple days are something that Big D looks forward to every year. My favorite moment with Daryl's Gramp came the night our Rehearsal Dinner when we were saying goodbye. I hugged him and jokingly said, "Uh oh, look out! Tomorrow I will really be a part of your family!" Gramp turned to me with a twinkle in his eye and said, "Kiddo? You were a part of the family the day Daryl brought you home to meet us." I still well up, thinking about that.
Daryl's Grandma is not so soft and squishy as Gramp. But she is loving in her own way. She is crafty and smart, good with money and advice, makes a mean homemade jam, knows anything and everything about gardening...her thumb is like ten shades of green. Any time we have a question about nature? We go ask Grandma. Daryl said that he became really close with her, and realized just how much like her he is, when he moved in with his grandparents after his parents got a divorce. He is grateful for that special time spent learning and growing his relationship with her. When his Grandma takes me outside and points out different plants and vegetables and what they need to be nourished and bloom, and pulls out her shovel to give me pieces of everything to grow on my own, I actually get a lump in my throat. This is my way of bonding with Big D's Grandma and I wouldn't change it for the world.
Family is our heart.
Thursday, July 24, 2008
I've brought her to the doctor's office and she was given a clean bill of health. No urinary tract issues. Nothing. Nada. Zilch.
I have three cats. I originally only had two boxes but bought a third thinking this would appease her. Two are upstairs (in our finished attic which is currently the "cat room" but will eventually be the computer/craft room) and one downstairs. While I hate having litter boxes visible when company is over, I figured if she was having a hard time holding it till she got upstairs, this would make it easier on her having one on the main level. I changed litter brands thinking she didn't like the litter. I have tried tin foil/wax paper on the couch so that she stays off of it. So instead of peeing ON the couch, she now pees UNDER the couch.
Yes, I'm ready to pull my hair out. Not just becuz of her doing this, but becuz Big D and I are constantly fighting about it. He wants to "get rid of the cats". That is not an option I'm willing to consider. They are all my babies. I've had Bailey for about eight years now and she has been with me through some very tough times. I've cried into her fur, when I felt like I had no one else to listen, many many times. She is a lovable kitty to me, her mama. To Daryl? Or anyone else for that matter? Not so much. So that kind of explains why Daryl has no loving feelings for her.
So I beseech you all! Please give me advice! What more can I try that I haven't already mentioned? Short of locking her up all day? And short of Daryl opening up the front door with an "Oops! Bailey escaped!"???? Thoughts, puh-leasssssse????
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
In love with my new single-serving (K-cup) coffee maker. I touched upon it in my weekend recap post but I just had to share again.
It. Is. Awesome.
'Chele, I highly recomend it!
I admit, it is not the cheapest thing in the world, however, if you are an avid coffee drinker like myself and Big D? SO worth it. Our particular brand of machine (from BJ's) came with four or five boxes of the little K-cups...that equates to 88 K-cups essentially for free! I had seen this same machine at B,B and B for more money and not as many free K-cups, so I was excited to get a deal. I love a deal. Also, this machine is not that big, in my humble opinion. We had a Bunn coffee maker (another GREAT coffee machine but it's just not necessary for us to brew an entire pot of coffee and you kind of have to with that machine or else in the future when you went to make coffee, there may not have been enough hot water in the reservoir). Anyway, for someone with a tiny kitchen, I realize the limits on space that some people have in their kitchen. And I don't feel like it takes up too much space on my countertop.
Anyway, I've tried a couple of different brands/kinds and so far my current favorite is Gloria Jean's Hazelnut. Yum. Also this morning I had a Kona Blend...SO good (can't remember what brand it was though, sorry). So come on over peeps! We can each all have a different flavor cup of coffee. Exciting.
P.S. In case anyone is wondering how my latte-maker is doing? Sadly, t is going to be returned to B,B and B soon. It worked great about six times or so...and then the last time I tried to use it? Let's just say, we almost had a steam-explosion in the kitchen. *Ahem*
Tuesday, July 22, 2008
A few years later my family moved away and Jenn and I lost touch...until my freshman year of high school. My family moved around a lot growing up and my town is large so there are two "sides" of town...two high schools, two middle schools and a whole bunch of elementary schools. I bopped from side to side and only had one or two close friends. When I came to high school, it was to go to school with kids I hadn't seen since elementary school. BIG difference. I came into a world where kids who I remembered were not the popsicle-gripping, bicycle-riding, friendly and smiling face I'd gone to elementary school with. For a couple of weeks, I sat by myself at lunch time, miserable and lonely and sad. And then one day, as I sat there eating my grapes, head down and eyes forlornly on my lunch, I heard, "Hey April! Come sit with me!" There was Jenn, a junior at that point, motioning me over. Even though it had been years since we last had seen each other, she extended that friendly hand to me and invited me to sit with her and her friends and we started where we left off.
Time passed again, and after Jenn left high school, again we lost touch. But, thankfully, years later, at random in a store parking lot, we reconnected. :-) And we haven't looked back since! We don't see each other often or talk on a weekly basis...it could be months before we chat again maybe over a drink at happy hour, but we always manage to pick up where we left off, as if no time has passed, she asking how my mom is doing, me asking how her daughter Kaitlyn is or the new baby.. and exchanging stories of our brothers who we always wished would "grow up" and now we chat happily over the fact that they have.
I love that about mine and Jenn's relationship. Time does nothing to dull our friendship.
P.S. Speaking of friends! Go check out the nice post that one of my favorite bloggy-friends wrote about me...(would LOVE to meet this chick in person! she's a hoot and I know we'd get along BRILLIANTLY!) It's so sweet of her! Thanks, Krissy!!!
Monday, July 21, 2008
Sometimes an iced coffee is just...simply...orgasmic.
Hazelnut syrup. Crunchy granules of sugar on the the bottom of the cup that I can bite down on. And a nice shot of caffeine at 5:38pm on a Monday night (just what I need, eh?).
Sunday, July 20, 2008
Friday, July 18, 2008
So, I'd like to think that I've been better about not obsessing so much regarding the whole baby-making business.
Yes, I'm using the OTK and yes, every time I get my period I sigh and end up in a cranky mood the rest of the day, but I'm not totally freaking out about it. I thought I had come to the realization that: my time will come for children and right now I'm just going to enjoy the process and relish the quiet, relaxing time with Big D while I still have it.
And then last night happened.
My friend came over with her 2-year-old and I swear to God, just kissing her little cheek or running my fingers through that silky hair...I swear it's like my womb constricted and held it's breath. And begged for a baby of it's own.
How the hell can I convince my brain to be calm and patient about trying to conceive when my damn body won't cooperate?
I'm not necessarily looking for answers from anyone...I know this is just how it is and I have to deal with it. And please don't tell me to "just relax" (I have been hearing that way too much lately, and although it's well-meaning, it's pushing me closer to the edge, I think)...I just needed to vent. I know lots of you have felt similar feelings so I guess it just helps to know I'm not totally crazy and childish for being so f*%$ing impatient.
Thursday, July 17, 2008
I did something I said that I would never do. Shame on me. I bought a pair of jeans yesterday that I told myself, in the dress room, "These would look so much better on me, and fit nicer, if I lost five pounds."
So what did I do? Did I return them to the rack, with a defiant toss of my cutely-styled hair and an: I don't need YOU, jeans! You are not the boss of me!? Hell no; instead, I thought, "Hmmm, initiative to lose five pounds? SOLD!"
Yes, I did it. *hanging head in shame*
And yes, I wore them today. They are snug, I have a bit of a muffin-top working but my shirt covers it up. So even though I'm uncomfortable, I look damn good. Heh.
Boy, men and women are so, so different. I would never see a man squishing himself, muffin-top and all, into a cute pair of jeans...especially while dealing with an extra five pounds of bloat due to my period (yes, no baby, that's another whiney blog post all in itself) all for the sake of fashion. And looking hot.
But am I working it today in my new jeans, cute baby-blue v-neck shirt and my sexy heeled-sandals? You betcha.
Wednesday, July 16, 2008
Krissy, the self-proclaimed sex-diva, has challenged her bloggy readers to post a sexy picture of themselves on their own blogs.
I don't know why I'm having such a hard time with this.
I didn't think that I had a hard time feeling sexy...although when I'm not altogether happy with my body since I've put on some weight, I guess it makes this challenge a little bit more difficult. And I could easily throw up a shot of me hamming it up, all mock-sexy with cleave, working it. But that's not really sexy to me.
And then while I struggled to figure out what is a sexy picture of myself, I read Kel's super-duper, right-on the mark post about sexiness. It was my light bulb moment. A-ha!
It suddenly became more what is sexy to ME about myself, and not so much what will/does everyone else think is sexy?
For instance, my Big D has always said from the very start that he finds me incredibly attractive and sexy on the days that I don't "try"...when I'm make-up less, hair in a pony tail or stuffed in a baseball cap, casual in a pair of jeans and a tank top, just me. And that is awesome...I love him more for that. But is that what makes me look "sexy"? I think it is more than that.
I personally think sexiness for me comes out so much more in my playfulness. My silly antics. My--often times crazy--laughter. My dark eyes. My infectious smile. Both of which, I believe, are expressive in so many ways.
I can not try to look sexy or I will fail miserably. However, does that mean I lack in sex appeal? I think not, peeps. I guess what I'm trying to say is just this: when I'm happy, geniunely happy, I feel that I look my most sexy.
So I'm going to go home, slap on comedy central, eat Ben and Jerry's with my honey...and rock on with my sexy self!!
P.S. And now I'm challenging any of YOU to post and blog about your sexiness! Come on, you can dooooooooooooooo it!
Monday, July 14, 2008
I was waiting patiently for Big D to post this...but since he's been a slacker in the bloggin' department, I'm stealing it to post myself...
We've been attempting to let Big Boy Tucker show us, that after all he IS a big somewhat grown up boy who can spend free time OUT of his cage when we are not home(he's approximately 2 1/2 which in dog years puts him RIGHT about the age of a bratty teenager). Anyway, this blond bomber has ALWAYS been the sweetest boy with only minimal chewing, even as a puppy. We've always been able to redirect his chewing to more appropriate items like rope toys...as opposed to a blue tooth, a brand new leather belt, a bottle of my anxiety medication (thankfully never getting the top off), my Victoria's Secret bra and a tube of lipstick, among other silly little items.
THursday was the perfect test. I had my Mom coming over after work and she planned on arriving about a half hour earlier than I'd be home to wait for my Peapod delivery (she's a good Mom!) but since her last key to my house broke, I hid a key on our sunporch. Now you all know that we live in the ghetto, and inwardly, even though I hid the key well, I was sweating the idea of leaving it out where a ghetto-inhabitant could find it. So my brilliant thought was to leave my gigantic teddy bear (Uh, wait, I mean ferocious bear)free to roam the house (i.e. out of his cage) and able to scare off any possible intruders. I wasn't too afraid, becuz we have done this before with Tucker and it was okay. I looked him in his big brown eyes and said, "Okay Tucker, Mommy is leaving you free. This is a big step. You need to prove to me that you deserve it. Be a good boy today!" Thursday was no exception. Not a stitch was out of place when my Mom arrived, save for a couple of pillows he knocked off the couch when he was obviously laying on it.
Friday I felt cocky, and I thought for sure that we could do this again with no issues. I had another heart-to-heart with Tucker, holding his sweet yellow snout in my hand and making him proimse with his eyse, that he would behave. I was so sure it would be fine.
I was wrong.
This is what Big D came home to (sorry for the crappy dark pic, it's from his cell phone):
Can you see that, people? I know it's a tiny, dark pic so let me break it down for you. That is just the beginning trail of 9 rolls of chewed up paper towels, I repeat NINE ROLLS OF CHEWED UP PAPER TOWELS, IN the plastic wrapping that I had just purchased the day before from Target. That is five bucks (it was on sale thank god!) down the freakin' tubes!
I must admit, when Daryl text messaged me the picture while I was at work, I could not help from laughing. But I know that if I was the one who had to clean it up, I would not have bveen laughing! I told Big D that it most certainly is time...time for the 'ol snip-snip. He's been holding out for whatever reason, afraid I guess of de-man-ing his dog, perhaps? But I have put my foot down. It's time.
Who said dogs are easy????
...so, while I spent most of the day reading my Jodi Picoult (Harvesting the Heart...it's one of her earlier novels) on a chaise lounge, slathered in SPF 30, Daryl popped in and out of the house. I also sat on the edge of the dock, swirling my toes and feet into the surprisingly warm green water and just breathed in the air and watched the ducks and listened to teh whine of the motor boats and water skis zipping around the lake. Aaaahhhhh....and now it's Monday morning, ugh, and it's raining cats and dogs, go figure.
Here is my mealplan for this week. For other great ideas, go see:
Monday: Grilled chicken breasts (possibly teriyaki-marianted) with green salads and grilled zucchini and squash.
Tuesday: Whole Grain pasta and sauce adn steamed green beans.
Wednesday: Carry-over from last week, taht we didn't get to, Fiesta Chicken Enchiladas
Thursday: Pizza Night
Friday: Hot dogs and mac and cheese
Friday, July 11, 2008
I'm a pretty emotional person. I cry a lot. Big D can roll his eyes here, cuz he knows how easily my waterworks can turn on. Sad movie? Tears. Sad commercial? Tears. Someone telling me something sad happening in their life? Tears. Missing my Dad? Tears. Stressing about something going on in my life? Tears. It's endless. But it is also cathartic and I often feel better, more refreshed, after "getting it out".
This morning as I drove in to work, I had the windows open (the humidity finally went down! yay!) and for the first time in a week, I got to breathe in some fresh morning air. I was sorta spacey (but still paying attention to the road) and didn't really have one particular thought in my head. I had the radio on, but there was nothing sad or intense playing (it was just a Third Eye Blind song, I think...)
Suddenly, without rhyme or reason, I started to cry. And the more I questioned why I was crying, the more I couldn't stop!
It was the strangest, yet most beautiful moment ever. All of a sudden it was like I saw myself, and deep into my core. Saw how much I've evolved through the past 31 (almost 32) years of my life. Realized that I truly like myself, as a person. That I am successful in family and friends (if not with money, LOL)and that I still have such a long, crazy journey ahead of me (hopefully) but yet it was more than all of that. It was such a deep, intense, heart-squeezing moment, I almost couldn't breathe. The cars around me ceased to exist. The sound of the radio was just a gentle, pleasant blur in the background of my mind. It's like my eyes were finally (figuratively) wide open and astonished at what they could see.
I felt free.
It was the weirdest moment ever, but also the most magical. A simple ride in on my way to my boring job, on a typical Friday morning...and yet here I was/am alive and well and happy. Just beautiful.
This may sound weird or sappy or over the top to some, but I'm so thankful for this quiet, quick moment in my day. I had to record it before the feeling of it, that thankfulness, melted away into the daily monotony of every day life: grocery shopping, bills to pay, etc. I'm so thankful.
Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek
Laughter is a big part of my relationship with Big D...from Day 1 of our first date, through dating and even on our wedding day, we've laughed our way along. There is nothing cuter, sexier and just darn silly to me, than a good 'ol belly laugh. And everytime Big D is laughing, I find it so contagious, I just can't help but join in....
...And the fact that I caught it in a picture? Priceless.
Thursday, July 10, 2008
I went to Target on lunch for household stuff (sixty bucks later! For freakin' cat litter, paper towels, cleaning products, facial cleanser etc. DAMN that shit adds up) but of course ended up in the dressing room with six...count 'em...SIX pairs of jeans to try on.
THEY ALL LOOKED LIKE CRAP. Or more accurately I LOOKED LIKE CRAP.
Either my hips were too big (duh) or my butt was too big (BIG duh) for them to fit. I also tried on a shirt, I grabbed the next size up knowing that the boobage wouldn't have fit into the smaller size.
THE GIRLS STILL WOULD NOT FIT INTO THE DAMN SHIRT.
For any of you ladies out there who often think, "Hmmm, I really wish mine were bigger!"---DON'T wish that. You can never freakin' buy ANY cute tops unless you (a) get them so big that the rest of the shirt billows out like a tent or (b) they are squished so tight up to your neck like mini-beach balls trying to escape! You also can never wear cute summer-y halter tops unless you want to (a) suffer the wrath of a strapless bra and worry about a stray boob playing peek-a-boo at the most inopportune time (b) wear a regular bra anyway and look like your friendly neighborhood street-walker.
And to add insult to injury, I came back to work, and sat down at my desk to eat my lunch while talking to a coworker, when something fell from my ear. It was my earring back...but oddly enough there was NO EARRING in sight. Who knows WHERE one of my most favorite earrings fell (which, of course, these earrings are a part of a set to an equally pretty necklace), possibly in Target, or the parking lot or in the student lounge here when I went to the microwave, or somewhere in my truck. The point is, it's freakin' GONE.
So when my coworker came up and said, "Hey, April, we're getting blizzards from Dairy Queen, do you want in?" I should have said 'no'. But did I? Of course not. *SIGH*
I'm just going to keep pushing on this magical key (that a sympathetic coworker once added to my keyboard after an especially rough day) and pray it takes away the annoying shit today....if not the key, then maybe the Blizzard....
(sorry for the blurry quality, these were taken on my cell phone)
Wednesday, July 09, 2008
On the home front, I went down to do laundry the other day and turned the washing machine on while I started to fill the cup of detergent. At taaht moment, the smell hit me. I looked down.
Another dead mouse. In my washing machine. What the heck??
When we left for the weekend for NY, I left the lid of the washing machine open. Obviously, the little buggar fell/climbed in and then could not get back out. I'm assuming he starved to death. On a happy note, at least most likely I didn't drown the last mouse we in the washing machine....he might have already been in there when I threw the clothes in. And I'm also pretty thankful I found this particular little critter in the basement and not up in the house like the last time.
Ugh. But still. We don't want any kind of vermin in our house!!! YUCK.
Big D put some mouse traps in the basement...and while I feel supremely guilty that I will be responsible for the death of the mice in my basement, I still don't want them in my basement!
Geez, has anyone else had a mouse problem before in their home? HOW DO YOU STOP THEM? Especially when you don't know exactly where they are coming in?
Sunday, July 06, 2008
Big D and I left CT on Friday, July 4th, and headed to Burnt Hills, NY (which is close to Saratoga Springs, NY...beautiful area!) to visit with his mom and step-dad. We always have a fabulous and relaxing visit, and I always am reminded how much I want to live on more of a country-ish street/town than what I live on now! I loved hearing the crickets, and chirping of the birds, the breeze rustling through the tall wild flowers and grass they were growing for hay...as opposed to the sound of ghetto music pumping out heavy bass at nine thirty p.m. on a week night, or neighbors arguing one house over, or punky kids racing pocket bikes around the block repeatedly. *SIGH*
Anyway, we walked (and ran) the doggies through the orchards, and also took a fun ride around orchards on Daryls's step-dad's quad. We watched a lot of tv, read a lot of magazines, played Wii, and went to breakfast.
Of course my poor chubby Daisy is seriously not used to this kind of exercise and was so over-heated at one point that I made Daryl carry her. Poor thing.
Okay, and now onto a meal plan for the week. Hopefully we'll stick to this...I can't 100% guarantee it will happen on the exact day it's supposed to but as long as we eat what i planned for, I'll be happy!Monday: Hot dogs, Annie's Mac and Cheese
Saturday, July 05, 2008
Fifteen years ago it was 1993 and I was seventeen years old (holy crap) and a sophomore heading into my junior year...hating every inch of high school and not so happy with myself either. The only good thing about school at that time was I met my future best friend April (who is now like my sister!) and I am so thankful she moved to CT from NY! I think at that time we were living on the Wallingford/Meriden line in a condo my parents rented (seriously, we moved about 12 times through out my childhood).
Anyway, my senior year of high school, crazy family shit (all due in part to my brother's wild lifestyle and my mom's illness) was going on and I hated school and never wanted to go (and I went from a decent B-ish student to failing). I was never popular but I certainly wasn't unpopular either...I was the "quiet, nice" girl that everyone knew and in my year book lots of people wrote, "You were so quiet. I wish I had gotten to know you better." I didn't smoke, drink or do drugs or party...I was just really stressed out by my home life. I ended up leaving school and finishing my senior year doing the work at home through an adult ed. program. Best decision ever. It's when I started to morph from that scared little caterpillar into a vivacious and happy butterfly. I decided on a whim, after graduation, to go to college. Eastern Connecticut State University. At first it was great, but then things started to go downhill. My best friend from childhood (not April) started to treat me like shit, my roomamte was a model so I started feeling badly about myself again, my brother was constnatly in trouble with the police back home, my mom got held at knife-poitn one day at her job, she also eventually had to stop working due ot her Lupus, and my father got laid off...and I felt like I was goign to have a mental melt-down. My grades started to suffer. Again. So just shy of about 3 months of finishing my first yera of college, I left.
I met my first serious boyfriend at nineteen and began three years of puppy love. My first love, my first kiss, my first sexual partner. While there were flaws with the relationship, and it was obvious it wasn't going to last forever (hindsight is twenty-twenty...it certainly wasn't obvious to me then) it was also a GREAT way to start out in the dating world and an awesome learning experience. J made me feel beautiful for the first time...and he was romantic and wrote me love notes and cards, sat and watched the sunset with me, and was the first boy to ever tell me he loved me. I will never forget how good that felt. To realize I could be loved by someone other than my parents and friend.
At that same age I started working at an awesome company with people that were hilarious. I stayed there for seven years. In that seven years I really came into my own, loved the person I had become, although after that breakup with J, it took some time to realize that. I moved in with a close, childhood friend and her 8-month old baby and enjoyed the"freedom" of getting out from under my parents roof (not that I had it so bad!). I adopted my first pet on my own, my pretty, black girl cat, and named her Bailey. Seven months into it, all hell broke loose between me and my roommate/friend and we parted under VERY negative circumstances...I thought that our friendship was over, beyond repair. We didn't end up speaking for a year after that. I got my own teeny, tiny apartment and I loved every inch of living alone. I adopted another cat, named her Molly, and continued to dance till the wee hours of the morning and have fun with my friends.
In late 2001, at the age of 25, I found out my dad was sick. After Thanksgiving, him and my mother dropped the bomb that would completely alter all of our lives. Dad had Cancer. They gave him six months left to live. I fell into such a despairing hole of depression, I never thought I'd crawl back out of. Now, I look back at my journal entries from that time in my life and it was so raw, so painful, so angry. My heart aches for that girl. I had to mourn my father, take care of my mother, continue to work and pay my mounting bills, cry into my kittie's fur at night and rage at the world. Thank god for anti-depressants and caring FRIENDS. That's the only way I made it through that whole period. I started dating a new guy at that point, JH, who also helped me cope.
In May of 2002, Dad died and then JH took me to Florida the day after the funeral (it's just how it worked out...we already had the trip planned before he passed and my mom urged me to go even though I was going to cancel out) and I had a wonderful time with him and his family and it took me out of that mourning for a bit. Remember,I had already been mourning dad's impending death for the whole six months leading up to it. It was rough. I moved to another, bigger, apartment, adopted another (moose) kitty who ended up not getting along with my kitties so he had to back, then a kitten came unexpectedly into my life, who I named Chloe.
In 2004 I took the plunge and changed jobs. That was a crazy, stressful decision to make but I was SO happy and thankful I did it. In 2005, I bought my first home! ALL BY MYSELF! What an exhilaring--exciting--scared shitless feeling!! I loved it. I broke up with JH, which was a difficult but necessary thing to do, and we became even better friends when we weren't dating. Then I got into a car accident and totaled my car. That sucked. I began whirl-wind dating. That sucked even more. I was ready to give up on men and dating altogether...I was so frustrated...either I only met guys who wanted a 'friend w/benefits' or guys who just weren't my type. No zing.
In late 2005, namely December, I began first talking through email, text and phone with Big D! He pursued me and pressed to meet, even though I was afraid of the whole process of going on a bad date, again. Even though talking to him was so much fun and we seemed to connect in such an amazing way. I was just scared. Finally I (nervously) met him in person for our fabulous first date on Sunday January 8, 2006 (and believe it or not,I only know this date becuz of Big D's awesome memory!). 'Chele also moved in that January, my computer/spare room become her bedroom. She lived with me for about 4 months approximately.
In February-ish of that same year, Big D and I said the "L" word to each other and meant it. Three months into dating, my Big D moved in. December 25, 2006, after opening all of our Christmas gifts, Big D proposed on bended knee to me while I sat there happily in my way-sexy flannel nightgown, no makeup and bed-head. I cried.
May 17, 2008 of this year, we got married. Four years later, I'm still at the same job, unsure of which direction I want to go. We are TTC. We are happy and healthy and have a roof over our heads and thankful for the direction our lives have brought us. Fifteen years from now, at the age of 46-47 (holy crap), who knows where I'll be? Hopefully still happy, and healthy with a roof over our heads!
Wow, this was a deep meme...I had to really delve in! So now I gotta try to remember who hasn't done this before and tag a couple of ya; it takes a while but it's worth it:
1. Big D
2. Kitty Concerto
3. Lovely Lalo
Friday, July 04, 2008
Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek
I haven't taken many photos lately...I've been slacking, so for this week's Photostory Friday I decided to post some of our beautiful butterfly shots from Magic Wings Butterfly Conservatory in Deerfield, Mass.
Daryl and I both were taking photos, so I'm not positive which ones I took, but you get the idea. We're still trying to learn the in's and out's of our Nikon, as well as how to actually take a decent picture (I suck at it! I always manage to cut off limbs/heads or it's too dark/light etc!) but one thing I know for sure: I. Love. It.
I loved this orange guy against the white of the flower.
This guy found a lovely purple flower to attend to.
This pretty guy was one of my favorites, even though he was not as colorful as his "brothers". I loved the translucent wings. I squealed like a child when he landed on me, I was so excited. And then right after this picture, a big, bossy bright butterfly flew onto my finger-perch and knocked sweet little Mr. Translucent away.
Here is your acrobat butterfly of the day! Again, another time when Big D probably thought he had a kid with him, and not a grown woman. ;-) I get easily excited.
We saw a ton with this pretty yellow, green black color combo. Very vibrant. We were at Magic Wings for about an hour and a half but I easily could have stayed all day. Big D, on the other hand, was ready to go after that hour and a half. Men, hmph!
Thursday, July 03, 2008
This guy, Ronnie, has given me the creeps from day 1 after buying my house but becuz I'm a nice person, and I realize that he has no one really in his life (his parents are dead...he has a brother that he sees maybe once a month, he doesn't work, he has no car just some little scooter-thingie) and I've heard he is just a lonely, drunk man...well I sorta have always felt sympathetic to him. Not the drunk part, just the lonely part.
There have been so many odd things this man has done. When I first moved in and met him, Ronnie said to me, "Marge (Marge was the previous owner) is a lesbian." Um, okay. I asked him why he thought that, cuz I had met her and last I knew, she was a divorced 40-something woman with teenage kids, dating a man. Granted, that didn't mean she couldn't have been a lesbian. Anyway, Ronnie's reply was, "Well I asked her out and she wouldn't go out with me. So she must be a lesbian." Yep, yep, that's why she wouldn't go out with you, dude.
I remember back before I was Daryl, when I lived alone, I was sitting on my couch with little Daisy one summer night with the windows open, watching tv when all of a sudden I heard what to me sounded like a gunshot. I instinctively dropped to the floor, with Daisy under my arm like a sack of potatoes, and crouched there for a moment, waiting. Eventually I crawled over to the window and peeked out, thinking just maybe a car had backfired or some of my punky neighbors down the street towards the ghetto were maybe lighting off fireworks.
Nothing. Silence. Empty streets. Totally unsettled, I locked up the windows, grabbed Daisy and went to my bedroom, figuring I'd watch tv in bed. Immediately I heard another gunshot.
What the hell? I told myself if I heard it one more time, I was calling the police. The rest of the evening passed in uninterrupted silence. The next day I happened to be chatting with some neighbors across the street when I brought up the sound.
"Oh yeah, we heard it." Mike said, "That was crazy, drunk Ronnie shooting at "skunks" with his gun!" Mind you, I had every window open in the house and never once smelled skunk that night (my house and Ronnie's are very close. I can look out my side windows and into his side windows.) We surmised that maybe he, in a drunken stupor, thought his cat was a skunk. (It's okay, he didn't get it! The cat is still alive). Another time, when Daisy ran away, I was frantically asking every neighbor if they had seen her...I started talking to Ronnie and asked him to keep an eye out for her. "Okay, Dolly!" He slurred. Dolly is his cat.
What else? When I go outside to put out my garbage cans and Ronnie is sitting out in his lawn chair in his garage, he'll watch me, and sometimes stumble around his driveway and inspect the grass, intermittantly sneaking glances at me. When I go out to my truck to go somewhere, and he is out there, he stares at me. It gives me the willies. When I am in my back yard, I can see Ronnie wandering around his backyard, glancing quickly over his fence into my yard.
The most recent crazy-drunk-Ronnie story I can tell you was a couple of weeks ago, when I stayed home sick with a stomach ache. After laying on the couch for a few hours I started to feel better so I decided to go outside and water my flowers. I brought out the doggies, a glass of water, a blanket and a magazine and after watering my flowers I laid down to read for a bit. It was hot that day, I remember, and the pooches started to pant heavily so I decided to go back inside with them. Less than 20 minutes or so of being in the house, both dogs start racing around the living room and barking at the door. I had the inside front door open to let in some fresh air and light, but I had the screen door locked. Usually the dogs will go wild like that when the mailman drops off the mail so at first I just ignored them. When they didn't stop acting crazy, I finally stood up and glanced out the window and almost jumped out of my skin to see Ronnie standing at the bottom of my front stoop, staring intently at the dogs or the front door, not exactly sure which. Not standing at the front door, not knocking or ringing the bell, just standing like a statue at the bottom of the steps, staring straight ahead.
"Uh, hi Ronnie." I stammered, as nervous goosebumps popped out along my arms. I looked down to be sure the door was locked.
"Whoa!" He slurred, and came stumbling up the steps. "how many dogs ya got there? Four?"
"Um, no, just two dogs." Idiot! I should have just agreed, yes, four crazy dogs!
"I heard ya got married....con...congratulations." He mumbled, avoiding eye contact. I though to myself that I would kill my neighbors across the street later...they were no doubt the ones who had shared this info with Ronnie. "I--uh--I wanted to say something...mumble, slur, mumble, mumble--"
"Never mind, never mind. Do you like fish?"
"Fish? Uh, not really, but Daryl does." Geez Louise, why I didn't just cut him off at the pass and say "nope, no one here likes fish" is beyond me. That stupid nice gene overrides everything else in my brain sometimes.
"I'm going to bring you over some fish."
"Uh, yeah, sure. Okay."
He stumbled away and I quickly scooped up my cell and called Big D. No answer. Naturally. Becuz it was the one time I really needed/wanted him, he wasn't answering. I then called my mother.
"Mom, Mom! You gotta talk to me for a minute so I can have a reason to not make conversation with Ronnie!" I cried.
"I am in the elementary school picking up A.J. I'm losing cell service...I'll have to call you back." My mom informed me.
Ronnie was back, holding a tin foil package of frozen fish. I let big Tucker stand in front of me and kept wiry little Daisy in one arm, barking insanely. At that moment I was so thankful my dogs were misbehaving. I hoped it made them look meaner. Heh. I quickly unlocked the door, grabbed the fish, and closed the door back up and locked it, thanking him so much.
"I wanted to ask you...uh...never mind, never mind." Ronnie mumbled quickly again.
"What, Ronnie? What do you want to ask me?" I asked trying to contain my impatience, wishing he would just spit it out.
"I just wondered when (he might have said if, it was very mumbly) I could kiss the bride."
Ugh. I seriously think I might have vomited in my mouth. Thank god my cell rang at that very moment. Big D to the rescue!
"Oh HI, Daryl!" I gasped out and quickly motioned to the phone to Ronnie and half-whispered, "Sorry, Ronnie, I have to go! Phone call!" He backed off the steps looking bewildered, and kind of threw up his hands as if to say "fine, be that way" and I shut the front door.
A few days later I pulled into my driveway after work and there was Ronnie, standing in his own driveway. When he saw me, he quickly bent over and analyzed some shoots of grass then back up at me. I slooooooowly gathered my belonging and purse together and took my time thinking he would hopefully be gone by the time I exited the car. NO such luck. There he stood, facing me, waiting for eye contact. He waved.
"Hi Ronnie." I said, resigned to the fact that I had to acknowledge him.
Yes, I have a crazy-drunk-neighbor who has the hots for me. He creeps the bejesus out of me. Maybe I should starting picking my nose when I see him? Or scratch my ass? Do you think that would be a turn-off?????? *SIGH*