Riddle Me This

These Are the Times to Remember...

2012-01-01T23:43:00.000-05:00

Every year, on the first day of the year, I think "this is going to be a GREAT year." That is a true statement. In fact, it is actually a documented statement. I used to journal. Not in an every day of my life like the long grass man, but I wanted to. Every year I would start off with a brand new journal and inevitably the first page would say "this is going to be a GREAT year." After that, there are only a few pages, or even none, with writing on them.

Seriously. Worst journaling ever.

However, the sentiment remains. Even if I don't write it on paper, I think it. And I thought it today.

This is going to be a GREAT year.

How do I know? Well let's look at the greatness of 2011 -

We found Nevada. Or maybe she found us. I am not sure who is luckier.

The closet happened. Then the closet got better.

We saved a dog named Gus and got him a new home (close by too so we can visit!)

We went to Amsterdam. And Paris. And London. Unfortunately, I am behind in photos and only showed you Amsterdam. Maybe in 2012.

And that is just a taste of what the year held for us. I, for one, cannot wait to see what this year brings.*

Happy New Year - from our house to yours,

*Please don't let it be another dog. We are kind of full with the five furballs right now.

All Through the House...Not a Creature Was Stirring...

2011-12-25T22:55:00.000-05:00

It has been a while, so I have been informed. My time flies when you are too busy to talk about what you are doing. Now it is Christmas and almost the New Year. Maybe I will catch you up through pictures. Let's start today:

Presents I received in a forum swap

A Christmas Story wrapping paper! How cool is that?

Great gifts from the swap!!

And then there was peace.

We had a great Christmas, spending the moring with my in-laws and nephew (and the dogs) and the afternoon with my parents and the dogs. I am not sure when these girls will ever recover. Christmas hangover indeed.

Merry Christmas,
Peace and Love,

Plant, Palmer, and Page: Sounds Like a Rock and Roll Band

2011-09-21T07:16:00.000-04:00

The other day B and I were on our way to dinner with friends. B likes to listen to either (a) talk radio or (b) sports. I prefer to listen to neither. Unless it is talk radio. Then I make fun of the callers, even if I have no clue what they are talking about. B loves this.

So on this particular day, B was listening to actual sports. A football game to be exact. I did not think I was listening until I heard the announcer say "Robert Plant just fell on the field" or something like that. This intrigued me:

Me: Did that guy just say the player's name was ROBERT PLANT?

B: Yes, but it is just his name.

Me: Well, I know. But now all I can think of are women in black dresses and the player snapping his fingers singing "Simply Irrestible" (Note: I may have sung a verse or two here).

B: What? That's Robert Palmer not Robert Plant.

Me: That's right. Easy mistake since they were in a band together.

B: WHAT? No they were not.

Me: Um, YES THEY WERE.

B: No. You are crazy.

Me: I am going to look it up.

Me: ...

Me: Huh. I may have been thinking about Robert Page and Robert Plant.

B: Oh. Were they in a band together or something?

Smartass.

It Wouldn't Be A Vacation If There Wasn't A Dog to Save

2011-09-05T19:50:00.000-04:00

We were getting ready for our family vacation at the cottage at the lake. Jersey was looking forward to it as we all know she loves the lake. Nevada wasn't sure what a lake was, but if Jersey likes it, she was all in.

We were supposed to go at the Fourth of July, but I had a trial that did not settle until the last minute. One vacation ruined. This was the last time before fall sets in that we, meaning Jersey (and possibly Nevada), could get some swimming in. So I took Thursday off to do last minute things like laundry, fix my tire, sleep in. We were set to leave at 3:30.

Then B called me at 9. He found a dog. He told me I needed to find a home for it because he was a very sweet, lovable dog that he refused to take to the shelter. Sound familiar? That is how we described Nevada.

Anyway, since Nevada, I have been trolling around rescue sites and knew very well that I would never surrender a dog to the local pound, as it would probably not make it out alive unless adopted. So I started networking and networking.

B sent me this picture:

Aren't I a pretty boy? Or should it be handsome?

How could I not want to save that face? He looked a bit like Jersey. Then there was this picture:

And a good boy!

What a sweetie! So I started putting those two pictures on Facebook everywhere. Even my friends were reposting it.

Then B sent this one:

And a silly boy!

Blurry, but look at that sideways tongue. How about this one:

And a goofy boy!

Yes he is upside down on someone's foot.

Most no kill shelters and rescues were full. One awesome rescue stepped up and tried to find a babysitter for at least the time we were gone if we would foster him when we got back. They offered to pay for food, vetting, and anything else we would need including training.

The problem was finding a babysitter.

We called in reinforcements - my brother. You may remember him from staying with Nevada for a week right after we got her because we were going to Europe. Why do these things always happen at the most inopportune times?

B took the dog for a groom and then brought him home before taking him to the vet for a check up. First, he was LARGE. 80 lbs it turns out. Double the size of our dogs. In fact, our immediate neighbor came out and exclaimed, "Your dog got BIG." Um, she had just seen Jersey the day before. Those are some fast acting steroids.

Second, he was just as sweet in person:

I just want to be petted.

I named him Davison after the street that he was found by. Then during the 40 minutes I spent with him outside which mainly consisted of him flopping down on the ground next to me, rolling over, and staring into my eyes as I scratched his ears and rubbed his belly, I named him Romeo.

We introduced him to Jersey and Nevada. Nevada decided to show her affection in a naughty way. *Ahem* oral slut *Ahem*. Romeo wasn't neutered and he thought he would repay her with some affection of his own. Then we separated them. However, he did not mind any dogs, big or small, or even our cats that he accidentally met.

Just as my brother was on his way over, we heard from a neighbor who read about Romeo on Facebook and offered to watch him. By the time she came over to meet him, the "watching" was turning into "perhaps keeping him." Turns out they were looking for a friend for their dog and Romeo was the right age and size. She left with him, but not before I took this picture:

And sit pretty.

I am happy to report that Romeo, now named Gus, did great that night in his new home. The neighbors took him to be neutered and it was determined that he had heartworms. They are paying for that treatment and the vet expects him to make a full recovery.

Davison/Romeo/Gus stole everyone's hearts and B and I were so happy he found a home. We checked on him via Facebook all weekend. He even stole my brother's heart who insists that Gus will "always be Jake" to him.

Happy Tails, Gus!

*B affectionately called this my first rescue. I think our execution needs a little help. My parents are just glad we didn't decide to add him to our brood.

Knock! Knock! Mo Fo Karma Wants Her Five Dollars Back

2011-08-22T20:29:00.000-04:00

Sometimes karma doesn't come around until much later. So much later, in fact, that the person wishing for karma to come back around never really knows if it does. That was not the case for my friend last week.

My friend was on her way back to the office and stopped to get gas. She noticed a beat up old van with a walker visible in the window and a man that appeared to need assistance. He told her that he just got out of the hospital and needed gas money to get home. Feeling in a caring mood, she offered him the $5 that was in her wallet. He graciously accepted it and thanked her profusely. Before my friend could put her gas cap back on, he was gone. He did not get gas.

That got her goat.

If she had a goat.

You know what I mean.

Karma was on duty and caused my friend to look across the street where she spotted the man's van pulling into the liquor store.

That got her goat.

See above.

She hopped in her car and went to the liquor store. She rushed inside and found the man, not even buying liquor, but buying a lotto ticket. Then it went a little something like this:

She: Gas money? REALLY? Gas? Where's the GAS?

Man: What? It's only a lottery ticket.

She: I want my $5 back! NOW!

The man rifled through his pockets. The cashier grinned and gave my friend a thumbs up. The man then said he must have left it in his car.

She: Oh good. Then I will just follow you out to your car to retrieve it.

Apparently, he did not think she would go through with it as when they got to his van, he pulled the $5 out of his pocket and meekly handed it to her. Then he got THE LECTURE:

She: You are what is wrong with people today! You are what makes people like me not want to give to people in need because they might get scammed by people like you!

Then she went to her office. Still mad.

Without her goat.

Or is it with her goat?

I don't even know what that expression means. I do know that there is a man out there that might think twice before he pulls that scam again.

Or at least maybe buy his lotto ticket at the gas station.

P.S. The first part of my title is from The Bloggess. If you are not reading her blog, you should be. In fact, you should start with this post.

It Is Like the Movie I Am Four, But It Is Five and Someone's Not Happy

2011-08-01T20:15:00.000-04:00

B was more than a bit dismayed to find out he is not number one in my book. My phone book that is. It all started when I thought I accidentally butt dialed him:

Me: I think I called you by mistake.

B: I never noticed.

Me: I just know because I dialed #5.

B: Wait. I am number 5 in your phone book?

Me: Um...

B: NUMBER FIVE?

Me: Maybe it is alphabetical?

B: WHAT? WHO DO YOU EVEN CALL?

He then started to name off all of the people I spend time with on the phone proving that he should at least be number 3. As his look of horror and disbelief grew with each passing minute, I happened to query:

Me: Well, what number am I in your phone book?

B: ONE! YOU ARE NUMBER ONE! I PUT AN "A" IN FRONT OF YOUR NAME TO MAKE SURE YOU ARE NUMBER ONE.

Me: Huh. That is so sweet.

B: YOU KNOW WHAT IS NOT SWEET? BEING NUMBER 5.

He then stalked off muttering something about proving your love or something. Turns out that my contacts do not even have speed dial numbers in my new phone, so the 5 meant nothing. I have no idea why I even thought it did. And B is at the top of the list, although I am sure he doesn't believe me.

Ramblings of a Riddler...Tough Guy, Fights and an Exotic New Vegetable

2011-07-18T21:57:00.000-04:00

I saw a guy walking two dogs and holding their leashes out in a way that suggests he was walking two huge and powerful dogs. The way you see tough guys walk pitbulls. He was walking two golden retrievers. Two fat ones. In fact, they weren't really even walking, but strolling. Represent dude.

***

Overheard my elderly neighbor asking his wife "is lunchtime critical?" because he still had yard work to do. Meanwhile, I have no idea when B eats lunch, what he eats or if he even eats.

***

I got into a fight with a pop can today. Guess who won? Maybe B was on to something when he tied the bag containing the pop cans closed. Unfortunately, I don't think even he could have predicted that I would untie the bag, decide to carry it on my shoulder, and then throw it over my shoulder only to land on the ground. Nor could I have predicted that just as I thought "why aren't these cans exploding" and reached down to corral them, one would explode and spray all over me. Luckily I was just back from court and not going to court.

***

Today was car accident day. I saw two. The first one I was actually a responder to and let the guy sit in my car until EMS arrived. Everyone else just drove around him. The second involved a motorcyclist that I am eternally grateful I was not the first responder to, although it looked like he was alive when I passed. Similarly, my brother stumbled on to an accident and stopped to help and then passed two more. Heat melts driver's brains. That's a fact.

***

I decided that they came out with a new vegetable when I wasn't looking. Broccoli. You are probably thinking that already exists. It does. However I pronounced in a way that sounded like Brach olie. As if it were ravioli or something. Everyone laughed at me all day. I now realize it was spelled wrong - Brocolli. Joke's on them. Yep, it is still broccoli. Weird thing is, we were talking about peppers. Go figure.

***

Wordless Wednesday: Orange You Glad It Was Just a Storm?

2011-07-13T20:47:00.000-04:00

Just Another Night Where Someone Loses An Eye But No One Does Anything About It

2011-07-05T19:15:00.000-04:00

Last night around 11 or so, I came downstairs to tell B a few things:

B: What's up?

Me: I have a list of things I have to say...

B: Are they about Black Swan?

Me: We could start there. That movie was stupid. Stupid! Maybe it didn't help that I had an idea of what was happening the whole time, even though I still don't know what happened. Or that I knew the ending. But it was STUPID! I just wasted one hour and 48 minutes of my life when I could have been watching my DVR.

Me: Speaking of DVR, Franklin & Bash is FUNNY.

B: You watch Franklin & Bash?

Me: YES! And it is FUNNY. Really, how could you go wrong with the comedic timing of Breckin Meyer and John Paul Gosselar.

B: Mark-Paul

Me: What?

B: His name is Mark-Paul not John Paul.

Me: John Paul sounds more French.

B: He is not French.

Me: Yes, he is. I looked it up. French Canadian.*

B: You looked him up and you still don't know his name?

Me: Whatever? Next up. My butt hurts like I walked many miles in it but really it is just from sitting on my ass. I don't know if that is sad or awesome so I am going with awesome.

Me: Also, I had a dream last night that Chester lost an eyeball. He scooted into the room holding it out to me. I alternated between screaming AHHHHHHHHH and saying "it will be okay Chester." Guess who didn't come to help me although he was in the next room? That's right! You! OUR CAT HAD NO EYEBALL. NO EYEBALL!!!

B: Going to bed?

Me: Yep.

B: Night.

Me: Night.

/scene

*Actually he is not French or Canadian or even French Canadian. He was born to a Dutch born father and an Indonesian born mother. What up with the hypenated French sounding name parents? Way to confuse someone who is only half paying attention.**

**Yes, I had to go look that up. Again!

Wordless Wednesday: Everyone Needs a Shoulder to Lean On

2011-06-29T22:40:00.000-04:00

Ramblings of a Riddler...A Horn, Iced Tea and 1993.

2011-06-27T22:10:00.000-04:00

I was driving behind a mini van when I noticed that the driver and the passenger are in some sort of argument. The driver gives the passenger a shove. Then, out of nowhere, the passenger whips out a huge musical horn (like a big band horn) and blows it at the driver. Because it is so big, though, it is really blowing in front of his face and not by his ear. Just like that it is gone. Where did it go? Where did it come from? Was I seeing things?

***

I was so hot after the walking house tour this year that I decided I needed two Starbucks iced teas. Since they were both for me, I just got one straw. I met B at the car and told him I was glad he was there so it looked like I had bought him one, even though I hadn't. We were driving off when I see B out of the corner of my eye pick up the tea to drink. Of course he has the one without a straw. Of course I watch to see what will happen. He tries to find the straw with his mouth three times before looking down and then looking at me and saying "How many times were you going to let me do that?" Is forever a good answer?

***

I told B that I won my first win of June, a CD. He responded by saying "Way to win a prize from the past." Yes, 1990 is supplying my prizes these days.

***

Wordless Wednesday: Friends or Foes?

2011-06-22T21:21:00.000-04:00

Sunday Sweats: The Walk-In Closet Gets a Face Lift

2011-06-19T19:04:00.001-04:00

When I told you about our walk-in closet here, I told you that we were not done with it. It was a beginning. Now we are somewhere in the middle with our recent add-ons. Excuse the crappy iPhone pictures, I will take more quality pictures when I fill up the closet (can you say SHOPPING?).

Remember that by the closet door and window there was empty space? Not anymore.

There are shelves and a lower hanging bar near the closet door and shelves under the window. Now every wall is covered in some form of closet shelving/clothes bar unit. Can you see the "real" closet door peeking out there on the right?

What you are looking at below used to be a ceiling to floor shoe rack as evidenced by the shelves that still have shoes on it. We added some drawers there as it was really the only place we could feasibly add drawers and I moved my shoes to the other ceiling to floor shelving unit.

When B asked me what other things I might be interested in, I did not ask for this. However, it is certainly something he needed and it is pretty cool. A little organizational rack for belts in the area by his shirts (to the left of the window):

What I did ask for was a valet, or a pole that would pull out so I can hang the next day's outfit from it:

Like so:

It should be noted that I have only used that pole so far one other time. I am not that much of a planner. It should also be noted that B immediately said "why does this suit still have tags on it?" Huh.

Another thing I *had* to have was a hidden/retractable ironing board. We had the regular ol' kind and I hated putting it up and taking it down every day or so, which meant that I inevitably just left it up in the middle of the room all the time which B *loved*. So we got one that can disappear. Can you see it?

It pulls out and to the left like so:

Then you just pull the legs down and it is good to go:

My only minor complaint is that it is really half of an ironing board, but since I am not entering any ironing competitions, it seems to get the job done.

Another view point of the room:

See where those sweatshirts look like they are about to fall off the shelves to the right? That is because they are making way for my shoes. That is the unit where I moved all my shoes to. It is not because I am sloppy and cannot fold properly. Not at all.

Don't you just love it??

*UPDATE* I was just watching the show SuperNanny and saw that the Nanny was wearing that exact same suit that I hung to show off the valet. I mentioned this to B and he stated "it probably WAS that suit since you are not wearing." Whatever.

Roly Poly Bugs Have Nothing to Do with Watermelons

2011-06-09T22:24:00.000-04:00

The other day when it was about a bazillion degrees out, I decided to eat some watermelon. Nothing odd about that, right? What was odd was when I looked to my left and a bug was running up to me. A water bug! I decided that was hilariously clever and took to Twitter to tell the world about the irony of such events.

Then B came upstairs and I relayed the story to him. His exact words? "Couldn't have been a water bug." He was so definitive and stern. And so wrong. Why, yes it was a water bug, I KNOW WHAT A WATER BUG LOOKS LIKE, I GREW UP COLLECTING THEM! (Maybe I didn't tell him that last part as it sounds kind of serial killer like). B was insistent and then informed me that waterbugs are really roaches and that landlords just call them that so people won't complain about them.

Then I lost my shit.

ROACHES? ARE YOU SAYING I JUST KILLED A ROACH? WE HAVE ROACHES? I GREW UP WITH ROACHES? I REFUSE TO BELIEVE THIS IS TRUE.

He tells me to Google it, so I do and I get this:

INSERT AWFUL IMAGE OF GROSS ROACH BUG HERE.

Seriously, I cannot even pick one for you to look at because they are all freaking me out.

Suffice it to say, that is NOT what I saw and NOT what I killed and most definitely NOT what I collected as an oddball child that might have serial killer tendencies but never killed anything. What was I referring to? Well, as I said to B:

No, no, no. My bug was like a roly poly type thing that rolls into a ball when you touch it. I then googled "roly poly bug" and up came this:

source: flickr.com

Much cuter, right? People (other than me) collect them and give them playgrounds even:

source: toyreport.org

Nobody needs to use their imaginations these days. Geesh! Also, I no longer feel like the biggest used to be nerd kid.

While I am relieved to note I do not have roaches, it kind of makes the whole watermelon story a lot less ironic, doesn't it?

Also? I write about bugs a lot.

It's Summertime and the Sprinkling's Easy

2011-06-05T17:06:00.000-04:00

Is it hot enough for you? Don't you hate when people ask that? But they all do. It is like the easy button of small talk. Anyway, it has been hot here the past couple of days. It started on Saturday, the day of our annual walking tour. It was so hot, I didn't even bother taking pictures. Check out pictures from a prior year here and here. Same type of houses, same type of heat.

When we got back, B decided he was going to water the dogs. Literally. He broke out the sprinkler, which Jersey loves. It was Nevada's first time. Luckily, B had the camera at the ready and captured some fun moments:

How does this work?

Where does it come from?

Where does it go?

Oh there! In my face.

If I turn quickly I can catch it.

Maybe I should just contort.

Jersey lets Nevada know she has it under control.

A sprinkler challenge!

And a face-off!

Mid-shake fest.

My name is Nevada and I am FEROCIOUS!

The rest of us humans just showered and took naps. A perfect summer day.

Can you believe it is summer already?

Survey Says...This Is the Most Ridiculous Answer Yet

2011-05-24T06:16:00.000-04:00

I like to answer surveys in my spare time. Typically I get points that I can turn into gift cards or cash. It takes forever to get a reward, but I don't mind. It only takes about a half hour a week or so. Usually I don't meet the criteria. I think I am getting old. B likes to make fun of my "second job" and will say things like "Nice making $3.00 for an hour's worth of your time." Well, that is $3 he doesn't have, right? Also, I multitask while answering.

So as to the point of this post, sometimes the survey givers like to make sure you are paying attention. They will throw in some question like "pick answer B." I am quite adept at spotting those and moving through. However, the other day, one particular question and, more specifically the answers, made me do a double take:

Which of the following major life events have occurred within your immediate family (you or your parents, spouse, or children) within the last six months:

An engagement

A wedding

Retirement

Graduation from college

The birth of a child

The purchase of a new home

Traveled to outer space

None of these

Did you read that bolded answer? "Traveled to outer space" seems like a logical response to "What have you done in the last six months?" Are you kidding me?

I am curious. How does one go about traveling to outer space? Is it only through alien abduction or the Space Shuttle? What about now that the Space Shuttle has been put out of service? More importantly, you know that a LOT of people chose that as an answer and not in an ironic kind of way. WAY too many people.

That reminds me of a segment on a morning radio show recently that challenged its listeners to find one of them that had actually had contact with an alien. There was the usual bright lights, weirdly shaped floating football shaped flying machines and almond eyed aliens at the end of beds. Then there was the lady who posed this question:

If these aliens are so advanced, why do they only visit and not stick around?

I am pretty sure the answer is contained within the question, don't you think?

Why Yes, We Still Do Own That Other Dog a/k/a Why Haven't I Updated About Nevada?

2011-05-23T07:21:00.001-04:00

Parenting fail. I remember constantly posting about Jersey. Well, that is probably an exaggeration, but I know I posted more than I do about Nevada. Heck, I don't even take that many pictures of her. Not sure if it is because I am lazy or she is not. Man this dog moves around.

So anyway, here were are just two months after rescuing a undernourished and very dirty Nevada from a home in a rough area and she is doing great. She doesn't even look like the same dog sometimes. It could be that now her ears stick straight up:

I kind of miss the folded over ears, but I have convinced myself that her ears are up because she is happy. Yes, that is her standing on the arm of the couch. No manners that one. She eats a lot and LOVES to eat. I know all dogs love feeding time, even Jersey will cock her head to the side and book when you say "food." This dog though? She jumps in the air (by the way she can jump straight up in the air without even launching off of anything), she does leaps, her tail goes crazy, she runs in circles. It is quite insane. However, she has filled out now. Up to 44 pounds:

Know what else? She pees a LOT. And she wasn't potty trained either. We forgot how much puppies pee and then this one was 100 x that amount. I swear I took her outside about three times in 45 minutes. She has somewhat gotten the hang of it even though there are some mistakes made occasionally:

She is constantly on the move, usually chasing Jersey, riding Jersey, biting Jersey's foot, gnawing Jersey's face...you get the picture. She does have a small warrior scar from when Jersey had enough. They are still friends. This is a rare moment that she was still:

Then she eventually just konks out near me or on me. For the first week she slept fitfully. She would moan and groan and I was very concerned. That has since passed and aside from the occasional snoring (seriously), she sleeps rather well and with us. Sometimes I wake up with Jersey entangled with my legs under the cover and Nevada laying lengthwise under my arm. At that moment, even though my entire body aches, I think "this is heaven."

Now, she and Jersey are like sisters. They have fun, they get annoyed with each other (mostly Jersey to Nevada), they sleep all over each other and are almost always by each other's side. Nevada has definitely changed our lives. Like it was in Jersey's case, it is for the better.

Thanks for finding us Little Baby Bada. We love you!

I May Have Heels and You May Be Closer But I Will Win

2011-05-16T08:01:00.000-04:00

Not everything in my life is a competition, however, I will admit that sometimes I see a competition where none exists. At other times, I create a competition that might not otherwise have been there. For example, the other day I had to go to an ATM by our house on my way to court because I have to park where they only take cash. Again with the cash only! I never have cash. So, anyway, I pull up to the corner bank in a dubious area and ponder parking in the fire lane since it is a walk up ATM and the parking spots are about six feet away. Since this bank was near where I got a ticket last year, I decided not to take my chances and park legally.

Into the first parking spot I went. Just as I was turning my car off, this minivan pulls up and parks in the fire lane. The van is a mere two feet from the ATM and I am pissed! Because of my good citizen ways, I am going to have to wait for another person to use the ATM.

Unless I beat them there first, that is.

Just as the guy was getting out of his car, I was out of mine and running in high heels and a suit. I jumped a curb, ran through some grass and some bushes and got to the ATM in time. I resisted the urge to yell out "FACE" or some other sort of "nah nah" sentiment and hurried my transaction along. I turned to find the guy leaning against his car.

Guy: You beat me.

Me: Yes, but you got that awesome parking spot.

Guy: But you are wearing a nice suit.

Me: Touche

Okay, I didn't actually say that last thing, but he did compliment me on my suit. I only slightly felt like an ass. I also felt like an Olympic athlete.

Then I went to the car to catch my breath.

You Want More Amsterdam? I've Got More Amsterdam!

2011-05-09T21:42:00.000-04:00

Some rude commenter who may or may not be related to me and such relation may or may not be through choice rather than blood, requested more European vacation pictures. A nicer commenter (Hi Cindy!) also wanted more Europe pictures. So I sorted through some of the thousands (I am serious. Thousands.) of pictures to bring you highlights of Amsterdam. Part 1. Or is it Part 2?

I told you there were a lot of bikes. Look at all of those bikes. It even made me want to ride bike. Until I saw how fast the cars zip by them and how the bikers have to make sharp turns. Scary bike riding for sure.

I want to live in these expensive houses by the canal. They are millions of dollars or something ridiculous.

I wanted to eat at this castle like place. I had no idea what they served. I still don't.

I just love the feel and symmetry of this street. And the colors.

I love these buildings.

I love the trees lining the street. And more bikes.

And what does the Red Light District look like in the daytime? Pretty much like this:

Like all of the other streets but with women in windows...

...and all of those people, mostly tourists, making their way in and out of the district...

...and the Live Sex Show signs...

...and the window full of weird pornographic knickknacks and, um, toys...

...and the Triple X rated sewer drain...

Ah, Amsterdam. I love thee.

You know who really loves Amsterdam? B. He wants to move there. Like tomorrow. But we have a house (well two...grr), and five animals, and jobs. You know, the little things. Also? We don't speak Dutch. Details.

However, should we win the lotto, I think we will be moving to Amsterdam, with Paris as a second home if I have any input.

You know how they say there is nothing like Paris in springtime? "They" are correct.

More on that later.

It's Not My Fault That Your Hair Is Buggy.

2011-05-01T22:26:00.000-04:00

It all started with a dream I had last week. A bad dream. A creepy dream. One that stayed with me for so long the next day, I told everyone, including B, about it while repeatedly shaking and saying something along the lines of "BLAHHAYYYY". Whatever that means. The dream in question? It went a little something like this:

I notice that flies keep getting stuck in my hair and the buzzing is driving me crazy. My Dad tells me maybe I should start brushing it. I tell him I just brushed it that morning and could he please just help me get them out. Then my hand goes by my ear and I feel a tickle. I pull a fly out of the inside of my ear, and then another. They are coming from my ears. My Dad and brother refuse to go to the hospital with me, both saying they have to work. I scream THERE ARE FLIES LIVING IN MY EARS!! They are not affected.

Fast forward to today. B and I are outside with the dogs when he nonchalantly says as walking away, "There's a bug in your hair." When I responded predictably with outright horror and a shriek "ARE YOU SERIOUS? WHERE? GET IT OUT! OUT!," he just shrugged and said "somewhere." He would not even respond to my pleas to get it out. Can you believe this? What is wrong with the men in my life and in my dreams? Where are the gentlemen that would help a woman get a bug out of her hair? Not in my life apparently. You know what B said in response to all of this? I will give you one hint, it is the title of this post.

Speaking of this post, I know B will probably say that he cannot believe I "wasted" a post on a dream and a stupid bug in my hair when I could be telling you and showing you about our awesome vacation. True. You know what my response to that is? We took too many damn pictures. Seriously. Who takes almost 2000 pictures? I need time to figure out what to present to you so that you will not think that we have lost our damn minds.

So stay tuned.

I Don't Care Who Died on What Cross, I Just Need Some Cash!

2011-04-22T20:16:00.000-04:00

With today being Good Friday and all, B and I decided to go for fish and chips like good nonpracticing Catholics (and at least one of us not at all Catholic). This required cash because the place only accepts cash. Seriously. We were there today and the guy in front of us tried to charge his dinner. The cashier laughed at him. He thought it was a joke and then realized it wasn't and she was laughing AT him. He then realized he had to leave and find an ATM in a rather rough side of town. Definitely no joke there. Oh, but they do take checks. CHECKS! Who carries those anymore? The guy looked at her like she said they take blood samples as payment.

Anyway, I headed off to an ATM in a good neighborhood (yay to planning ahead) after I left the office. Just as I pulled my card from the machine and turned around, an older lady in her 80s came in:

Lady: Is the credit union CLOSED?

As I turned toward the totally dark and obviously closed bank, I say:

Me: Yes, it appears that it is.

Lady: WHY?

Me: Good Friday?

Lady: What?

Lady: There is not even a sign posted.

Me: It is right there.

I point to a large sign that says the credit union will be closed all day in observance of Good Friday.

Lady: Wait! It has been closed ALL DAY?

Me: I have no idea.

As I leave, I hear her muttering "That is just STUPID." She then walks in the rain to her car, gets in and THEN proceeds to put on a plastic hair protector. As she is tying it under her chin, another car pulls up and a woman gets out. The old lady rolls down her window and yells:

"IT IS CLOSED. THE CREDIT UNION IS CLOSED AND HAS BEEN ALL DAY. DON'T BOTHER!"

She may have also muttered something about Good Friday. New lady says "I'm just here for the ATM..."

Interesting. So was I. It seems the only person that wasn't was the older lady. Is she against the ATM? Does she not know how they work? What is is that she needs done by a teller that she cannot do herself at an ATM?

Maybe the old lady should go to the fish place. She would feel right at home at a place that only does actual cash transactions and nothing with those "newfangled" ATM things. I can just picture her walking in, seeing the long line and exclaiming "Is there a LINE? WHY? What does Good Friday have to do with FISH? ...stupid..."

Happy Easter!

European Vacation: First Stop Amsterdam - Yes, Please!

2011-04-20T22:22:00.000-04:00

So B and I took our own little European vacation. We had been talking about it forever, trying to decide where to go, when to go. We got the bug on our Rome honeymoon and have been discussing it ever since. Then we bought a house. Then we got a dog. The European vacation kept getting put on the back burner. But, with a little help from a year end bonus, we decided to make it a reality.

So B started planning it on his own. Since France is so close to England and so close to The Netherlands, he decided we should move about the European Union. Progress was slow. Finding hotel rooms was slow. Fate, however, stepped in and we received a brochure from a travel company that I travelled with in law school. They were offering a vacation for the exact time we were looking for and to four countries we wanted to see Amsterdam (The Netherlands), Belgium, Paris (France) and London (England). Sold!

So we left on April 2nd for an 8 hour journey across the pond where it was 6 hours later and the next day. Can anyone successfully sleep on an airplane? On our Italy trip we got majorly screwed up. This time, we had to stay awake as our hotel room wasn't ready until 2:00 p.m. First stop? Some coffee and a bagel. Well, maybe tea.

How cute is that plate? They spoke nearly perfect English with the slight misunderstanding between B and the waiter that resulted in his small water being served in a shot glass. Seriously.

One thing we immediately noticed were all of the bicycles. We later learned that Amsterdam is second only to China for the amount of bicycles (average 4 per family). There were bikes everywhere. They even had their own paths, which we found out by almost being mowed down by one. You quickly learn where you need to walk when your life depends on it.

Of course we went to the Red Light District. We went during the day. Then it just seems dirty, touristy and normal. At night? The same but with glowing red lights. We saw a woman ask one of the girls behind the glass door "how much?" only to be told by the girl she only does men. B was also a favorite of one knocking, pouting girl, but he was too busy planning his next photo op to pay her any mind.

This was the area surrounding our hotel. We loved our hotel. It had free wi fi and we brought our iPad. That meant B could continuously use Google Earth to "find us" even though we were technically always in the same place.

Our hotel had twin beds. We could not even push them together. Somehow I still managed to have more room on that little bed than I do in our king size with all of the animals, including B.

The weather held up pretty good. Fall like with no rain. Perfect for walking all around town and planning on when you could move there, abandon your car and live a life of biking around like a mad man and woman.

Aside from bikes, the best way to get around is the tram. Although it nearly cost us our marriage, we finally figured out the payment system and the routes and all was a piece of cake after that. Except for the time we were nearly separated. It was like out of the movies. Picture this:

I realize we are at the end of the line and the only ones left. I insist that we must GET OFF NOW. B gets off, but as I am waving my pass to leave, the doors start to close. B is pushing his button, I am pushing mine and we are panicking as I start to drive away BY MYSELF ON A TRAM IN A FOREIGN COUNTRY WHERE THEY SELL DRUGS AND SEX. I can still see B's face as I pull away looking like "Seriously?" while I shrug my shoulders and plan on how to get back to him. Where would this thing take me? Just as I got myself into a huge panic, the tram stopped at the next stop, four feet away.

Welcome to Europe!

Poka to You, Poka to My Sanity

2011-04-15T07:19:00.001-04:00

The building where I work houses a variety of different ethnic groups and we constantly hear a billion languages being spoken at once. This is particularly true on the floor my office is on as there is another business there that is quite large and employs a good number of people. We will hear them in the hall on their quick 5 minute breaks speaking Chinese, Spanish, Russian and some other ones I probably could not identify.

So when I was in the bathroom yesterday, I was not surprised to hear two women speaking to each other in Russian. However, I did not expect a voice from the stall next to me to demand from her stall that they entertain her by providing Russian words:

Russian ladies: {speaking Russian I do not understand}
Stall lady: Say "Goodbye" in Russian!
Russian ladies: {more Russian}
Stall lady: SAY "GOODBYE" IN RUSSIAN
Russian ladies: Poka
Stall lady: GOODBYE, say it in Russian
Russian ladies: POKA
Stall lady: What?
Russian Ladies: POKA
Stall lady: Huh?
Russian Ladies: It is easy, poka, P-O-K-A
Stall lady; Poka?
Russian Ladies: Yes
Stall lady: Well then POKA
Russian Ladies: Poka to you

Poka indeed. I am pretty sure their next word the said as going out the door was Russian for fool.*

*That's "durak" people. Spelled phonetically of course.
**The More you Know...

So You Will Never Guess Where I Have Been. No Really, You Won't.

2011-04-13T21:10:00.000-04:00

Yes, I have been gone a while. The last you heard, we rescued a new pup, Nevada, because we are insane. You know what makes it even more insane? We were leaving the very next week for a 10 day European vacation. Seriously. Oh and I was sick. Twice. Grrr.

Luckily for us, Nevada is an easygoing and adaptable dog. Jersey went, as planned, to her favorite fun place, doggie daycare, where they also board. Cool thing? They are not crated, but always free and someone spends the night there and the boarding dogs gets to sleep in bed with them. I wonder if Jersey tries to get under their covers too. Anyhow, Nevada was underweight, without all of her shots, and without enough time to see her disposition with large groups of dogs. My brother was kind enough to house sit for us including watching Nevada and feeding the three cats. Bonus - he even trained Nevada on certain things. If he could have crate trained her, I would have wept with joy, but I will take what I can get.

I will be back to talk about the vacation as I have many, many photos to download and then decide what to upload. Nobody needs to look at 400 of my photos (or the 1300 B took). Yes, we have issues. Maybe we should be a traveling photography team. Sounds so exciting!

For now, satisfy yourselves with more pictures of Nevada and Jersey in the first couple of days. After 10 days apart, they are readjusting to each other a bit, but I am sure (read: I hope) things settle down again soon.

Eyeing each other

So regal looking.

So aloof

Sharing the same toy

Sharing (or fighting over) another toy.

We missed these girls when we were gone.

From Jersey to Nevada and No Points In Between: The Tale of the Woeful Dog That Stole Our Hearts

2011-03-29T07:35:00.000-04:00

It happened last Wednesday as I was sitting in my office. Taking a glance at Facebook, I saw a post from a girl I went to high school with. She posted a picture of a dog that she found on her porch when she opened her door.

The first thing that struck me was how much it looked like Jersey. The second thing was that it had a rope around its neck that looks like it was chewed. The third, and saddest, thing was that I could see all of its ribs. My heart broke and then grew three times its size like in The Grinch.

My friend's friends all discouraged her from finding the owner since the pup was so neglected and encouraged her to keep it since it made its way to her home. She said it was very loving and playful. Also, it never left her porch even when she had to leave to pick up her kids. She also found that it was immediately protectful of her house.

However, she could not keep it.

I quickly emailed the picture to B and he told me that we could take it before it would go back to its owner. His heart had grown as well.

In the end, no one claimed the dog, no service would come get the dog, and I got an urgent message from my friend asking me to come get it. And so I did. I drove to a rather rough part of the city to pick up a dog I knew nothing about. She was laying on the porch when I got there.

She immediately jumped up, wagged her tail and ran over to me. We coaxed her in the car and off we went.

Driving home was a trip. This was not a trained dog and she tried to climb behind me, on me, in front of me, and spent a hell of a long time licking my face.

Once we got home, I made her a bed in the garage as we needed to get her to the vet before she could come into the house. She was so loving and playful and grateful. I fed her a bit and you could tell she was starving which hurt my heart even more. B texted me often with updates as he was working that night. He requested I send him a picture to see what she really looked like, but it was hard since she was constantly climbing on me. Finally, exhausted she laid down for a moment and I captured one:

She immediately became protective of our house barking when strange voices were around, but generally quiet after that. When B came home that night, she ran up to him, tail wagging and full of kisses.

The next day she went to the vet and got a clean bill of health and some shots. She is about 6-8 months old and about 10 lbs underweight. She weighed in at a light 32.5 lbs. The vet thought she was a shepherd boxer mix, but who knows. After that trip, B introduced her to Jersey and that was two of the happiest dogs I have ever seen.

She has since made her way into the house and is making herself right at home.

Although she has not been trained, she is very loving and learns rather quickly. Mostly. B and I have had to put on our puppy training hats. It seems like such a long time ago I had to make sure to let a puppy out every couple of hours to prevent accidents. However, she sleeps through the night with no accidents and mostly leaves the cats alone. She is a keeper.

In keeping with tradition, we named her after the street on which she was found, Nevada. Technically it was not the exact street, but one right close by. The thought was we could call her Neve for short, but it turns out we typically use her full name. I think she is starting to figure it out.

As of yesterday, she was up to 37 pounds and her coat is looking better. She has a lot of energy for a dog that was so lacking and we think she is a great addition to our family.

Welcome home, Nevada.

In My Dreams, I'm Still Insane

2011-03-21T20:14:00.000-04:00

Remember last summer when I said my dreams would make a great plot to a movie? Yep, nothing much has changed on that front. I have kept track of a few of my favorite dreams since then and, well, I will let them speak for themselves. I will say that I did not change or embellish anything*. These are exactly as I dreamt them, although not all at once. I am not THAT crazy!

I am in an old grocery store that is now a restaurant, but yet still a grocery store. I look over and notice two very large lions lazily lying around outside the front doors. Suddenly I realize that the lions know how to open the automatic doors and I bolt through the store with them chasing me. As I scream for help I realize that the workers are out back in the alley on a smoke break. I bust through the door yelling "the lions are chasing me." They laugh until I point at the lions. Knowing that the lions can also open doors with knobs, I run down the alley until I find a small indent in the wall and press myself into it. They never find me.

I am being chased. Again. I end up in a bowling alley. I then end up on a beach where there are tons of bugs and fire ants. Jersey is trying to bite them to keep them away from me. I am trying to shoo them with my feet so she doesn't get bit in the mouth. They bite me on my ass. Right after the sting, I realize that I think there is a tooth in my gum. I pull it out of my mouth and sure enough there is a part of a tooth. I later tell B that I lost part of a tooth and when he asks to see, it turns out I lost three teeth, all in the front! I vow never to chew gum again. Especially if it is mint green.

Next, it is the day of my trial. We are holding it at a dining room table in the office. My paralegal keeps talking so I tell her to leave. Next my secretary is there to take notes, but she keeps making calls on her cell phone so I tell her to leave. Meanwhile, we have a break and I leave to use the bathroom and get lost in a sea of buildings and floors trying to find my way back and panicking with every step. Finally, the judge's clerk finds me and assures me that is okay. However, once I arrive I realize I do not have my file or even one piece of paper that I need for the trial. I tell the court. The usually mean judge comes in laughing and asks why I didn't notice when I left that morning that I wasn't carrying anything. I have no answer for her. Then she asks why I didn't think about it when I was reviewing my file last night. I don't bother to tell her that I didnt review it all because I had planned on "winging it."

We then go back to my office to actually review my file and there are these large black flying bugs around. I start screaming and decide we need to leave before they get me. On our way out, my boss who has inexplicably turned into my uncle assures us that it is okay, that the bugs are harmless. When I tell him that one landed on my head and was stinging me, he tells me I am wrong. The bugs simply need to poop somewhere.

I am called into my office manager's office and told that my outfit is not work appropriate and I will need a whole new wardrobe. I am wearing a skirt, heels, a blouse and a blazer. I sarcastically say "do I get a wardrobe stipend?" and am told in fact I have $1500 and don't worry because the shop will call to appropriately dress me.

I am on my way to work heading up a staircase with apparently every single person in my office building. I am also carrying a child. I run into my former boss and we exchange pleasantries although I really hate her. I then run into my current boss who is wearing a bright yellow ruffled sleevless shirt which makes me think he looks like a clown. He tells me that people think we are "too close." I am tell him that is because we are close, we live near each other. I then realize he is the actor that plays the detective on Dexter. I still have the baby. After folding up my bicycle, I realize I have to be somewhere that babies aren't allowed. I find my former boss in her office working on her laptop on her bed and ask her to watch the baby. She says okay halfheartedly and tosses the baby to the side. I scream "Well EXCUSE ME but you are the only one that knows how to care for a baby around here."

On my way out, I drive my car straight into a hotel pool. Luckily it was in the shallow end and I could escape.

Later, I fall in love with the actor that plays Mark Zuckerberg in the Facebook movie. My other boyfriend didn't like that I was in love with two men at once so he made me break up with him. But as actor/Mark guy crossed the street after I dumped him, I could not bear to lose him and chased him down. We then discussed plots to TV shows.

I am at a trial, but again I dont have materials. Turns out I am not trying the case, but I am a witness. Then it turns out I am the defendant. I am accused of hitting a guy with a hamburger. The defense counsel, including Don Draper of Mad Men, tells me that I should tell the jury how much I love hamburgers. I think this is a terrible defense because there was a whole shelf of things I could have hit him with so if I loved hamburgers, naturally I would choose the hamburger. My attorney said "no, you would never waste a good hamburger by throwing it at someone." Good point.

I rest my case. But not my dreams.

Is it any wonder that I look like this on some nights?

*I started writing this in July of 2010. Upon reading it today, even I think these dreams sound fictional. However, I know they are not as I never lie to myself.**

**That I know of.

Wordless Wednesday: A Future Horror Fan is Born!

2011-03-16T19:08:00.000-04:00

And Then My Entire Family Was Nearly Killed By a Possessed Chicken Bone

2011-03-07T07:05:00.006-05:00

I let my family cook for me. I am very generous that way. Also, we all know how often I cook. Have you seen my cooking blog?

So I come home from my parents' house every week with various freezer containers full of the usuals - Mom's chicken noodle soup, Mom's potato soup, Mom's spaghetti. Occasionally I will get things from other family members too such as Dad's pea soup, Dad's chili, Dad's stew that I thought was spaghetti sauce because it wasn't labeled that turned out to be a wonderful surprise. Then I also get my brother's take on things that typically includes chicken soup with too much dill. Although the last one he sent had a note taped to it that said "Less dill. More love." Awww. He's single, ladies.

The other day I went searching for something to eat when B disappointingly ignored my SOS text about dinner and ATE WITHOUT ME. I grabbed a contained marked "Soup for Lonnie" and remembered my Mom sent me chicken soup she had made up for someone else that never got to pick it up. Then I defrosted it, warmed it and ate it.

Then I almost died.

Contained in the soup was a chicken bone. A large one actually, which is how I found it in my mouth.* I removed it, threw it in the trash, and sent my Mom an email entitled "Were you trying to kill Lonnie?" She responded by asking me if I was okay, going on to ask if the bone gave it extra flavor, and then blaming my brother. He's still single, ladies.

Fast forward two days later and as I am walking through the kitchen I notice something in Jersey's mouth, I make her give it to me and it is THAT DAMN CHICKEN BONE! What the heck? I KNOW I threw that thing out. Another email to my mother insisting she was trying to kill my entire family resulted in this response:

Good grief! Is that chicken bone possessed? Put it in a plastic bag and bring it to my house so I can get rid of that devil!

I am not sure what good putting it in a plastic bag would have done. It just gives me visions of Jersey with a plastic bag with a chicken bone in it hanging out of her mouth. I am also not sure what a proper disposal is. Kind of scared to ask, actually.

I decided not to pass on the possessed chicken bone to another house for the fear that everyone would soon find it in their mouths, or their dog's mouth, or their fish's mouth. Definitely not their chicken's mouths though, people. They are not cannibals!

Only one possession per family, please.

On a side note, after I sent my Mom this blog post about a staple in Jorge's dog's stomach, my Mom sent the me the following email:

See, you could have blogged and showed the chicken bone in Jersey's tummy and made her a star. But, no....you take it away from her and call ME an attempted murderess.

My family has its priorities you know.

*My Mom is a good cook and she never ever has bones in her soup. This was a freak accident.**

**Ditto my brother. Feel free to snap him up, ladies.

Hackers, Robbers and Fires - Who Can Get Any Work Done Around Here?

2011-03-02T22:32:00.000-05:00

So it's been a rough time at the office lately. I will give you one guess as to what's been happening. Yes, all is revealed in the title. Yes, all of those things happened at my office. In the span of a week. Craziness I tell you.

Monday started off with a warning that our network had stopped an attempted hacking. Some people had to change their logins and passwords and double secret probation security was put on high alert. Meanwhile, I wandered around asking why someone would ever want to hack the network of a law firm.

BORING.

Seriously. What will you get there? Boring letters to the court. Boring briefs to the court. There would be no smoking gun. Ever. All of this leads me to believe that it was an inside job by an outside person.

I will give you some time to think about that.

Fast forward to Thursday and I am on may way into the office when I get a phone call telling me not to bother hurrying because our building is on lockdown due to a suspicious person. That suspicious person? He is called a robber. He broke into a suite in the early morning hours and then ran away with a safe and some cash trailing behind him like a cartoon. Another inside job from the outside. I think. I really have no idea about that business. Luckily by the time I got my daily Starbucks a/k/a Sweet Heaven, all was well and I could get inside.

Fast forward to Friday at lunch. It was unseasonably warm. I left my jacket in someone else's office. I packed up my briefcase of work to do at home over the weekend. I was enjoying lunch with other like minded colleagues when one got a phone call. As soon as I heard him say "WHAT?", I just knew it. "ARE WE LOCKED OUT OF THE BUILDING AGAIN?" Kind of.

Our building was on fire.

No worries. Just an ELECTRICAL fire. We were locked out. Our belongings were locked in. The wind picked up. I spent the next hour and a half driving around the parking lot with some colleagues finding other people to talk to about what was happening. I took a client conference call in the car. Meanwhile other offices passed their time in different ways. One group prayed. No one was in danger. Did they really want to go back to work that much? Another group played hackeysack. Does that even exist anymore? Then some guy broke out a guitar and started playing to a crowd while people taped him on their cellphones. Who the hell brings a guitar to an office building? That guy.

Just as those in charged called it a day, a giant "YAY" came forth from the crowd and we were let back in. Why everyone cheered to be let back into an office on a Friday afternoon when the sun was shining is beyond me.

Also? We could go in but there was no plumbing and only half electrical and no heat.

"YAY."

Is It Hoarding If You Still Get a Discount?

2011-02-14T19:58:00.000-05:00

While I was writing yesterday's post about B basically rebuilding our back porch, I realized that the first picture was taken over 2 and a half years ago. All this time it was just sitting in my post queue waiting for life. Then, THAT reminded me of something that happened recently while my mother and I were shopping.

We were at one of my favorite stores, Bed, Bath & Beyond, and seriously buying up the place. Luckily, I had many 20% coupons, although none to spare like last time. If you are a BBB shopper, you know that those 20% off coupons are golden and, better yet, the store will take them even if they expire. So I keep a stash at home and in my car and rotate them.

It had been a while since I had shopped there, but I had just enough coupons for me and my mother's purchases. We were close because we had just been there a few weeks prior and exhausted my car supply.

Anyhow, I noticed that my mother's cashier was having a difficult time with one of her coupons. My mom told me that it wasn't going through for some reason. So I look at the cashier, puzzled. She tells me that sometimes coupons won't go through if they are more than two years old.

Me: Oh, I find it hard to believe that I have a coupon that is two years old!

Cashier: Actually, this coupon is from 2002.

Um, I had a coupon over eight years old. OVER EIGHT YEARS OLD. I have tried to tell B I am not a hoarder. This is not helping my cause. My mom said maybe it was her coupon. That is not helping her cause.

The coupon was a lost cause and the cashier just tore it in half while looking at us with pity.

I have been keeping an eye out for the cameras ever since.

Sunday Sweats: Surprise! We Were Burgalarized...or Were We?

2011-02-13T19:55:00.000-05:00

So this is what I came home to a couple of months ago. Well, actually a lot of a couple of months ago when it was very warm. Sensing a theme? Yes, I am reliving warmer times. I hope Phil is right. I need some spring.

Anyway, I came home, parked the car and headed into the house when I was stopped by this view of our back porch:

Who broke me?

I remembering standing there so confused. My first thought was "Someone tried to break into our house!" I then immediately figured out that was stupid. Why would someone push in the screen (and unsuccessfully might I add) when they could just open our screen door which is not locked? Also, why would someone break into a screened in back porch, but not the rest of the house?

I then thought someone drove into it. Yes, you read that right. The porch faces our yard which faces a fence which faces the long grassed neighbor's house and then his yard. It would be physically impossible for a car to drive into this porch unless it was a special UFO car. That did not stop me from looking for tracks or looking quizzically at the long grassed man's yard like he might materialize at any moment and explain this all to me.

Turns out that none of that was the problem. The problem was rotting wood. I would rather have UFOs actually. And so down came parts of the back porch:

They all fall down.

Guess who had to create new pieces? B. Isn't he a champ? Want to see rotting wood pieces?

This is rotting wood.

So is this.

And a weird side view of the rotting wood.

We like to take pictures of rotting wood.

Turns out the porch wasn't level either. Look what B had to do to the bottom just to get the top to work:

That's odd looking.

In the end, it all worked out. I would like to show you pictures, but somehow we cannot find them. Let me just say that B fixed that side piece and all of the front pieces. Maybe I will take pictures in the spring and supplement this post. For now, pretend it is all fixed:

Pretend I am the final version.

Home ownership is a lot of work - B.

*So I totally looked at when I saved this post. May of 2009. Um, more than a couple of months ago or even a couple of couple months ago. We are talking almost two years people. I need to catch up to my photos!

Sunday Sweats: The Walk-In Closet Edition

2011-01-30T22:55:00.000-05:00

Alert! Picture heavy post here folks. That's because it is about clothes or, more importantly, where we store our clothes. Yes, finally. We have our walk-in closet! It is not 100% complete, but pretty close and we can use it. How fun is that?

Remember when I told you back in July (note: when it was very warm and not freezing cold like now) that we had plans? The plans were finalized and the closet "built" although not by our hand. So maybe the title is a bit of cheating. We have found, however, that when it comes to walk-in closets hiring it out is best. Also, no one wants to work. Seriously. We can explore that issue in another post. Right now let's enjoy the closet. I feel so SJP in SATC!

First a trip down memory lane when we first got the house. Here is the closet, formerly a bedroom, formerly a cat room or something:

I am going to be a closet some day!

Then we repainted it and it quickly become a storage area or as B would probably say a "trash dump":

Look at all my junk!

Okay, this looks like trash.

So first we cleaned it out:

So shiny and clean!

And then we called in the professionals. Can I just say that there is a weird trend between B and I that whenever I am going to trial, he has something big that we need to take care of right at that moment. He does not plan it. It just happens. I find it very strange though. During this trial we needed to refinance. During this trial we needed to buy a new car. Two days before this trial we had our holiday party. And during this trial I had to approve plans for the closet. Hmmm...maybe I need to try more cases? They seem to result in some good stuff.

So in went the shelving:

Look at all that wonderful shelving!

More shelving and some drawers:

Look at that nosy cat!

Then we got to fill it up. First B's side (with some overlapping by me) which you see when you first walk in:

Yep, I like to take up space.

The view when you look right in the door. Did you notice we also replaced the light fixture? Also, we are going to expand under and next to that window. Soon.

More closet space? Yes please!

Then my stuff, including a space for all my shoes:

I need more shoes!

I found those little red boxes and Bed Bath and Beyond, but I need two more. They are perfect for holding smaller things like gloves:

And a place for my formal dresses and my purses:

I need more purses!

The top pair were placed first a la SATC!

I added those two jars for buttons and safety pins which I seem to have an abundance of:

The view with the real closet door open. There is still space for more closet. Can you see it?

See all my space?

We are in love with this closet and it is not even done! We will probably add carpet since we are going to dress in there and bare feet get cold. Also, an island in the middle would give us more space and a place for me to iron clothes rather than the bulky ironing board that just takes up space. We also are going to add a valet which pulls out for dry cleaning or outfits for the next day. We are also thinking about more drawers. For now, though, we are good.

What do you think?

Crime Watch Wednesday: I Lost My Dog and My Man, But This Ain't No Country Song

2011-01-26T18:45:00.000-05:00

It's been a while, hasn't it? Over two weeks. I am tried of giving you the same refrain "I had a trial. It is tiring. Litigating is hard." However, I will say this one was crazy because I basically had to try the same case twice, one week at a time, in front of a different jury each time. And guess what? I won one and lost the other. Go figure. The best news? I think I am done with trials for a while. Whew! It has been a long 10 months.

It is Wednesday which is typically Crime Watch Wednesdays around here. When I remember. This week I bring you a special Crime Watch Wednesday starring me, B and Jersey. We haven't made the Crime Watch Chronicles. Yet.

So it was the night before my trial. The first one. I decided to go to bed around 11 and B thought he would let Jersey out for one more bathroom break so she could go to bed with me. As I am making the bed (yes sometimes I make the bed at night) I hear B yell out Jersey's name in that panicked you-better-get-back-here-right-now voice. The last time he yelled that out, she had run across two streets to go "play" with some dogs being walked by their owner. They were not fun dogs and she was soon cowering back. Anyway, I ran over to the bedroom window to find B walking down the street with a flashlight. Not a good sign.

I did not even put on a coat, but just ran out in my pajama pants and sweatshirt. I could not see either of them. Having no idea what had happened, I decided I would go in the opposite direction that I saw B head, just in case Jersey was some super ninja dog that went left, fooled B, and then went right. Just as I made it to the corner I heard B yelling Jersey's name again from the opposite end of the block. I turned and started to make my way back there, all the time hearing B yelling her name.

At this point I am walking down the street with the following thoughts going through my head:

"I cannot believe we lost our dog the day before my trial."

"How am I going to sleep tonight?"

"How am I going to try a case tomorrow when I will be thinking my dog is lost and dead somewhere?"

"Why do we keep losing our flippin' animals?"

Just then, I see Jersey dart across the street and on to my same sidewalk. I excitedly called her name and clapped and she came booking straight toward me just as I heard a car come down the street. I prayed she would just come straight to me and thankfully she did. I made her sit and called B's name a few times, but he had vanished. So I walked Jersey home, locked her up inside and went back out yelling B's name. Well trying to yell quietly. It was late at night after all.

Finally, I spotted him far away, got his attention and told him I had her. As he got closer he said "did she have a rabbit in her mouth?" Um, no. Apparently she took off after a rabbit before B could even say her name. When I heard him yell the second time when I was in the street she took off between some houses never to be seen again. As we are discussing this two more cars drive down the street. Police. Of course. Our yelling was not going to go unnoticed.

They did not stop.

You see two people out in the cold late at night, yelling, one wearing pajama pants and you just drive by.

Policing is hard work people.

Apparently so is pet ownership.

Could I ever do anything wrong?

I Think This is My Floor, Even if it Isn't.

2011-01-17T22:17:00.000-05:00

Guess where I am? Why, yes, preparing for another trial. Not like I didn't just have one last week. Not like this trial isn't practically the same trial from last week.

Man I am tried.

Until this trial is over, I leave you with another court related story. This one from about a year ago. Yes, I am THAT behind in my post writing.

So I was in an elevator at court, the same court I will be in this week, when a guy gets pushed onto the elevator with a bailiff. There is already one bailiff on the elevator, I notice.

I sense trouble.

A couple of floors later my friend gets on the elevator. I tug on her sleeve so she moves behind the troublemaker.

A couple of floors later a THIRD bailiff gets on the elevator.

Then the trouble starts:

B: You are leaving the building

G: No I'm not. I got business here.

B: I don't care what you got, I am making you leave the building.

G: MAN YOU CAN'T DO THAT.

B: YES I CAN. AND I WILL. YOU ARE LEAVING. YOU CAN SAY WHATEVER YOU WANT.

Me: Can we discuss this on the ground floor?

G: I know what this is.

B: CALL IT WHATEVER YOU WANT, YOU ARE OUTTA HERE.

G: I know what you are.

B: I really don't care what you think I am.

G: I know what you are.

B: Whatever.

G: You are jealous.

I know what you are thinking. What in the hell were they even talking about? I have no clue. I think there was about to be some accusations of racism, sexism, ageism, and any other ism you could think of by G. However, I am fairly confident that no matter what was going on, the bailiffs were NOT jealous of G.

I was just glad to be outta there myself.

Crime Watch Wednesday - You Can't Ring My Bell, Even If I Asked You To

2011-01-12T21:20:00.000-05:00

This week's Crime Watch Wednesday brings us yet another tale of a suspicious man that turns out not to be all that suspicious after all. It was just about this time last year that I brought you the story of the man who thought he was going to be murdered because someone had the audacity to ring his bell? This one is even worse, folks.

A woman reported a suspicious looking man possibly attempting to break into her house around lunch time. She told police that he was knocking on her door and she was afraid that was the gateway action to actually breaking in. When police responded and demanded identification from the man, it turns out he was the woman's insurance agent and was there for an appointment that the woman had just made the day before. His story was confirmed with the woman. There is no indication as to whether she actually purchased insurance that day.

I know I was harsh on the first guy last year. Ignore your doorbell, no one is murdering you and so on. This woman? She made an appointment THE DAY BEFORE. Since she made the appointment, I can only assume she knew WHAT TIME HE WAS COMING. Therefore, she should have know the man KNOCKING ON HER DOOR was the guy SHE INVITED OVER.

Maybe I am asking for too much here?

Also, I have never had an insurance salesman even offer to come to my office let alone my house. I remember one time I had to sign some official paper crap (seriously not even necessary) and they wanted me to drive over an hour on my "lunch hour" to their office. Um, hi! I am your customer. Could you perhaps do something to accomodate me?

Yep. Still bitter.

Guess Where I Am? Here's a Hint: My Mind Is Mush

2011-01-10T09:24:00.001-05:00

I have been missing lately because I am preparing for yet another trial. Seriously. Remember when I had one in March, then there was one in August, and then one in December right before our party? Three in 9 months was not enough. I have another one starting today. This one is a two-fer, meaning when the trial is over, it just starts back up again with the same parties and the same court but fighting over different money.

Who wants to be me?

I didn't think so. In any event, as you read this I will be arguing my butt off. To commemorate this event, I will share an exchange with the Judge from the first day of the March trial:

Judge: Are you sure you want to proceed with this case?
Me: Yes....
{Later}
Judge (to the other attorney): Are YOU sure you want to proceed with this case?
Him: Um...yes...?

I can only hope today is going half as well.

Sunday Sweats: All That Hard Work Was for the Dog(s)!

2011-01-09T20:45:00.000-05:00

It has dawned on me that I have not really posted much about stuff that we (meaning mostly B) have been doing around the house. Since nothing major has happened, I tend to forget about the little things. Luckily, we do take pictures though. I stumbled upon them and thought I should start posting about them. I am going to try to do a post at least weekly about what has been happening until I exhaust all that has been done. Knowing B, that could take a long time! He definitely doesn't like to sit idle.

Remember when we felt bad for Jersey and B built her an area so she could roam free while we were out or at work instead of being cooped up in a crate? Well, I forgot to follow up and tell you how that worked out.

It didn't.

The very first day we tested the new enclosure, I came home and was shocked and puzzled as to why I could see Jersey through the back door wagging her tail at me as if to say "what too you so long?"

Turns out, wood is not going to stop our dog. She chewed a hole in the wood and escaped. How long did it take her to do this you wonder? Was it our entire work day? No.

It took her less than an hour.

Do you see that hole? It is not even as big as the dog. She managed to chew through there and get free. It is not even close to the ground!

Our dog is a beast and she will not be contained!

I felt bad for all of the time that B put into the enclosure. Jersey did not feel so bad. She felt pretty good, roaming through the house free for an hour. At least she didn't destroy anything in the house. Jersey was all for freedom. B had other ideas.

Stay tuned...

Don't Hand Me No Lines and Keep Your Jokes to Yourself

2011-01-03T22:20:00.000-05:00

Sometimes, at stores, people just want to talk to me. Usually, I do not want to talk to them. That does not deter them. For example, the other day (or month) while in CVS, the man in front of me in line turned and said:

Man: I am a cop.*

Man: Nod if you believe me.

I don't nod.

I stare blankly.

Man: Just kidding.

I don't nod.

I don't smile.

He leaves.

The cashier then says under his breath after the guy leaves "get outta here you crazy ass old man."

Now that got a nod and a smile from me.

*I am not sure what the man was trying to say or joke about with his cop line. I couldn't be bothered to figure it out. I just needed some sunscreen.**

**Clearly, this happened a while ago what with the sunscreen reference.***

***Did you know that you are supposed to wear sunscreen in the winter? That means this really could have happened yesterday. But it didn't.

Quick Poll as This Year Comes to an End to Determine Whether You Know B and I

2010-12-31T16:32:00.000-05:00

While everyone else in the blogosphere is focusing on the new year, resolutions, and reliving the past, I like to focus on what is really important - what I plan on doing tonight.

Not much.

How fun was that? It will undoubtedly involve watching movies, flipping TV channels and surfing the net. B has to work, although he will be home before midnight.

In honor of my huge plans, I bring you a post I wrote in June. No kidding. Be prepared for more of that in 2011. New Year/Old Posts. That's my new slogan.

So...

The following movies were just shipped to our house by Netflix:

1. Daybreakers

2. Capturing the Killer Croc

3. Descent: Part 2

4. 2012

So, my faithful blog readers, which 2 movies belong to B and which two belong to me? I think this might be an easy one, but you never know.

Bonus points to the person who can guess who in this house is receiving the following movie:

The Twilight Saga: Eclipse

What say you, readers?

Whether you are staying in and watching movies, going out and partying, watching the ball drop, or sleeping through the New Year, stay safe and have a great time.

From our family to yours,

Still Just Chillin' In These Parts

2010-12-30T21:28:00.000-05:00

Hope your holidays are as restful and peaceful as ours!

Twas The Fourth Day After Christmas and Still I Did Not Move

2010-12-29T22:04:00.000-05:00

You would think that with 10 days off of work, I would have so much more time to blog, to be more productive. Nope. This is pretty much me:

Can you even spot me in that pile of blankets and dog? All I want to do is sleep, read other people's blogs and play Diner Dash on the new iPad. Yes, I have a new iPad. By "I", I mean "we". By "we" I mean B. He gives it to me occasionally to use. Never mind that the cats and dogs bought it for me and the tag even said "Mom." Never mind that I screamed like a little girl when I opened it and smiled widely to the cheering crowd of my mother-in-law and sister-in-law. We know who this really belongs to, I am just the occasional borrower.

Anyway, I thought maybe I could share highlights from the holidays and some pictures too.

Before Christmas, we went on our annual holiday trip to eat dinner, walk fast and see Santa. That trip ended when the glass blowers proudly proclaimed they were going to stick something in the glory hole. That proved too much for me and the family who all laughed like the 12 year olds B accused us of being right before he joined in. The 7 year old standing nearby was not amused. Give him five or six years.

On Christmas Eve we all gathered at my sister-in-law's house for a family dinner. We went back there the next morning. We should have stayed the night except we had to bring Jersey who had so much fun, her tongue grew big:

My nephew got an Escalade from Santa and proceeded to drive off into the neighborhood in it. B took these awesome paparazzi shots from the back door. They are seriously about a block or so away. These photos were taken with the new camera that the dog and cats got B. I wonder where these animals get their funds?

Then we were off to my family's house for Christmas dinner. We made my brother pose with Jersey in his arms again. I don't know why her head is so big:

For a comparison, this is them last year:

Then B decided to take pictures of our tree with the new camera:

And the house:

And the neighborhood:

And that is the end of this Christmas story. Except for the presents. There were some cool ones, including three new bobbles, but I want to do an updated bobble post one day so I will leave it until then.

How was your holidays? Are you on vacation? If so, how the hell do you motivate yourself?

Signing off from the couch,

If There Is Gambling, Sleeping and Buffeting at the End of the Road, I Will Only Slightly Whine Along the Journey

2010-12-16T21:23:00.000-05:00

It has been a long couple of weeks since I last posted. I actually find it hard to believe that the last thing I talked about was Thanksgiving and now it is almost Christmas. Time flies when you are busy and stressed. So what have I been up to?

First, I had a trial. Not as long as my last one, only three days. However, those were a long three days full of lots of motions and arguing and lots of late nights preparing. Even the jury took their time, not rendering a verdict until 6:00 p.m. Too bad their verdict was not in my favor. Favorite part of the trial? When my opposing counsel showed up the second day and proudly exclaimed "See, I brought MY binder too. It is empty." (I always use a binder to keep all of my stuff organized. My opponents usually don't.)

But right before that three day trial? B and I had our second annual holiday party. Because that is exactly what you are supposed to do less than 48 hours before trial, host a party for 40 something people. You may not remember the first party because I barely talked about it. I do have some pictures from last year's event though:

Pre-party house:

Outside including tealight walkway bags:

My bro and B discussing the finer aspects of...a fish tank:

Almost party time and with a warm fire roaring:

You know where my photos from this holiday party are? Nowhere. They don't exist. Just imagine the above photos with a different tree, lights instead of tealight bags on the walk, no fish tank and about 40 people milling about at any given time.

It was a blast.

My favorite part? Probably when the carbon monoxide detector went off and my brother thought it was the smoke alarm and started fanning it, and no one else seemed to care. I had to take that sucker outside and dismantle it all the way down to ripping out the batteries in order to make it stop blaring.

That reminds me of the time that B decided to remove the faulty carbon monoxide detector and store it in a safe place. The garage. Wasn't I surprised when I started the car that next morning. Good times.

Now after that long three day trial, B and I took a mini vacation to Vegas. The city I like to call my second home. It had been just over a year since we last went and I loved it. I wished we had stayed a day longer, but I will take what I can get. I slept a lot, ate good food and played video poker slots until I almost broke my back and went blind.

It was a blast.

Now I am back to the land of the cold and already preparing for my next trial in the beginning of January. When did I become a trial queen? The last one was my third in 9 months! How exhausting. This one will be longer because it is two trials in one. Or really back to back, but you get the point.

I will try not to wait until after then to update though. I have many pictures and stories to share with you.

Happy Vegas Christmas!

It Wouldn't Be Thanksgiving Unless There Was a Roast

2010-11-26T23:22:00.000-05:00

No, we didn't eat roast on Thanksgiving, but we sure had one. As we finished eating, B started telling story after story. About ME. Seriously. One after the other. Non. Stop.

It started with the story about how I made mustard chicken once. That was followed by the time I cut my finger on a can of corn. That segwayed to the time he did not believe I needed to go to the hospital, but oh yeah, my appendix needed to come out. And my gallbladder. Then he somehow started talking about the time I locked myself out of the house.

It was starting to sound like a bad blog regurgitation/stand up comedy routine. Except these people didn't know that I had a blog, so it sounded like a "let's make fun of Dani on this holiday upon which we give thanks."

COME UP WITH YOUR OWN MATERIAL, B!

Just kidding. In fact, sometimes I think B practically writes this blog, he just doesn't know it. In fact, he sparked the whole conversation my family had at the now annual Thanksgiving day breakfast. What would that be?

The zombie apocalypse of course.

B told me about his friend who is fully prepared for said apocalypse and even shared his extensive plan WITH HIS CHILDREN.

I decided this must be discussed at breakfast despite the fact that my brother and father do not share my love for zombies. Can I tell you that zombies are now the great conversation equalizer? It is the truth. Bring it up and people will join in. Just the other day I said to my coworkers "The zombie apocalypse is coming and I fear I am not prepared." People immediately offered ideas and banded together against this purely fictionalized idea. Zombies. Bringing people together while scaring the living shit out of them.

So what did my family accomplish during Thanksgiving breakfast? Check this out:

B would live on an island so the zombies wouldn't get to him.
His friend thinks zombies could just walk under the water and get him.
My dad says no one, even dead people, can walk under water without their heads being crushed from the pressure.
My brother says crushing heads is an effective way to kill a zombie.
I ponder why there are no zombie animals.
B says because the zombies cannot catch them.
My brother says it is due to noncommunicable transfer - kind of like dogs and cats not being able to have sex.
My brother is smart.
The zombies will want his brain first.
Do zombies pick and choose brains or is it all just meat?
Why do zombies eat brains anyway?
Finally, my mom wants to know when we are going to start talking about vampires.

You should hear what we discuss on Christmas.

Would It Be Better If I Were Wearing a Coach Suit?

2010-11-22T21:17:00.000-05:00

It has been rather stressful at the office these days. I had a really ugly complicated case that resulted in my waking up one day with a huge knot in my back that I not so lovingly named after my opposing counsel. Luckily that got resolved and the knot went away. I would also like to thank Excedrin Back and Body for coming to my aid.

It's just that things are super busy, which is good and bad. Good because more work equals job security and more fun. Bad because more work equals more work, less time and more scheduling conflicts.

I always know when the stress is getting to me because I will dream about the office, or usually court. Last night I dreamt I was in federal court to help with a trial that I knew nothing about when the judge told me that I wasn't even wearing a suit. I looked down to find myself wearing a skirt and a jacket, certainly not a suit, but decided that I would defend myself by saying "Oh I see, if it is not a Coach suit, it doesn't count?" I don't even know what that means. Can you imagine a suit with the Coach insignia all over it? I shudder.

So it made me think of this post I drafted a while back about events I saw one motion day in court:

What Not To Say To the Judge If You Want to Win:

"All judges are liars"

"I cannot get a fair hearing here"

"I am suing three judges and the entire court system"

What You Don't Want to Hear the Judge Say If You Want to Win:

"The problem here is your client and her inconsistent testimony."

"What kind of attorney are you? The kind that just stands before me and spews garbage from his mouth?"

"What I want to know is who forged this Order?"

"Your opinion has no basis in fact."

"I have written many articles on this subject. In fact, there are a few cases you seemed to have left out of your brief."

Luckily these things were not said to me. In fact, my opposing counsel felt the wrath that day when he tried to bluff me into a settlement only to be told by the judge that he and his client better agree to my terms or he was going to make him "try this" while shaking the file at him like it was the stupidest thing ever.

That's my kind of day, even if they are few and far between.

What Happens If You Unfriend Your Only Friend? Are You Friendless or Are You Free?

2010-11-17T20:27:00.000-05:00

I heard somewhere that today is National Unfriend Day or something. Facebook users are supposed to pare down their friend list and get rid of the unnecessary bulk. This topic is extremely timely as I have found that I have recently been defriended by a few people.

Now, I do not particularly care if someone defriends me. Except maybe my mom, although she is not on Facebook. Okay, maybe my brother, my husband, my best friend, that would be sad. Random people that I reconnected with, but haven't really talked to much? I take no offense. Time is short. Life is hard. Facebook is full of posts. Although in my defense, I don't post a lot. Wait. Maybe I am boring people?

In any event, I typically only notice I have been defriended when it is someone that posts a lot and then all of a sudden they stop. No, they didn't stop. They are still posting endlessly on Facebook, I just don't get to see it. On to the next 100 posts from friends and family.

But you know what is strange? When you get defriended by someone who only has one friend on Facebook - YOU. Seriously this just happened to me. Actually, I don't know when it happened because you are not exactly notified when your friendship has been deactivated. I will pretend it just happened.

So, I am going through my old facebook messages and I find one from this friend that I invited to Facebook. That's right, he wasn't even on Facebook until I came calling. Better yet, I was his only friend. That was a bit strange. You know what else is strange? He would post things to his wall, news articles and tidbits and I realized, as his only friend, he was posting directly to me! Was I supposed to comment on every thing he posted? Why did he think I wanted to read articles from the Wall Street Journal? Was he trying to tell me something? I guess now I will never know.

You know what is stranger? He is still on Facebook. Without any friends. Yes, I have been defriended by someone who would rather have no friends than be my friend. It is like he is the king of Facebook, but he doesn't have any subjects.

Facebook = bringing people together, tearing them apart, and killing all self esteem.

Now who can *I* defriend??

I See Your Quarter and Raise You a What the Hell Just Happened?

2010-11-08T21:22:00.000-05:00

Getting through the security lines at the courthouse is always an adventure. There is one particular court that is always changing the rules - keys out, keys in, no cell phones, who cares about cell phones, feel free to bring your bayonet in by all means. There is also no telling as to what will set the metal detector off except that it undoubtedly will not be metal.

So it was no surprise that we were waiting there, me and 20 other people, stuck behind a lady that basically had to undress to get through. I could sense some annoyance coming from behind me, but I decided to focus on my own annoyance instead. First mistake.

As soon as the woman in front of me was cleared and before I could even think to take a step toward the detectors, a woman behind me practically barges her way through me to get into line. My usual decorum evaporated:

Me: "Oh, EXCUSE ME!

Lady: "What?"

As I stand there with my arms open wide and about to shout "what do you think", she points to the ground behind me and says "There's a quarter."

Here's where I would tell you that I retorted with a "Nice try old woman. Don't try to distract me with shiny things. I don't need money that bad" while pushing her out of the way and running through the metal detectors screaming "I am coming your honor." Sadly, that did not happen.

What happened? I was totally caught off guard and turned to find that there WAS a quarter there on the ground. I then wondered why there was a quarter there and how she knew there was a quarter there and if she was a member of MENSA. Meanwhile, she was through the detector and off like an apparition.

That is, until I caught up with her on the elevator and she proceeded to answer her cellphone like this:

I AM ON THE ELEVATOR IN COURT AND I CANNOT TALK RIGHT NOW SO I WILL HAVE TO HANG UP, BUT WHY ARE YOU CALLING?

Luckily, I got off one floor after the phone call came in and before I totally lost my hearing. Later when I relived this event with those that I work with, I could only think of one thing:

I really wanted to pick up that quarter.

Halloween Part Deux - Peanut Butter, Caution Tape and Cold Asses. Well Maybe Just One.

2010-11-03T20:31:00.000-04:00

As you may be aware, the other night was Halloween. If you have been reading for a while, then you also know that we get a lot of children in these parts. And I mean a lot! Remember last year? This year was no different. The first car load was dropped off on a corner at 4:30! After about 45 minutes they started making their way down the street even though it was still light. By 5:30 things were in full swing and we were passing out candy left and right.

B grew big pumpkins again this year, although not as big as last year. He also carved three of them. I carved none.

This is the one with all of the holes drilled in that looks so cool at night lit up:

This is B's pumpkin face:

Our nephew. You can find more of his Halloween pictures here:

He looked like he had many fingers, but he only had 10:

You are probably wondering what this is all about. Well, my sister-in-law took part in an advance sneak peek at some new Snickers candy. As part of the campaign, she got materials and treats to give out on Halloween and she and my nephew came to our house since we get a lot of traffic. We put up the Snickers sign, the tape, and the spiderwebs:

My nephew only cared about the pumpkins:

We were the only house on the block with the treats. Even adults were asking for them. I totally made up a random rule that if a child read the sign out loud they got a treat.* You cannot believe how many read it out loud!

Darkness finally fell:

And we finally ran out of candy.** Not before seeing a Jason Voorheis adult sized mask on a five year old thereby making him the first horror movie dwarf, a equally small but proportionate Freddy Kreuger and the 10 year old in some kind of mask with, what I hope was a plastic bayonet, strolling down the street at a determined pace without a bag of candy. I hope he wasn't killing anyone.

And if you were wondering, the new Snickers has a secret ingredient:

Yes, it is peanut butter. I thought it tasted like a regular Snickers but when I ate them back to back I could tell the difference. Why yes I had to eat more than a few. Research people!

Next year I am going to convince B that we should do this to our house:

Piece of cake. Or candy if you will.

*I had other random rules such as "OH MY GOD THAT KID IS SO CUTE - give him lots of candy."

**Or maybe we didn't, but I feared we would. And my butt was cold. Really cold.

October Roared in Like a Lion and Then Bit Me in the Ass. And It is Cold.

2010-10-26T19:23:00.000-04:00

October is almost over with and fall is in the air. Well, actually I would like to call it WINTER. It is freezing here. For God's sake, B turned on the furnace! Only by one degree, but whatever. Seriously, the man turned the furnace on by one degree. One morning as he was leaving for work and puzzling about why half my clothes were off and he was freezing (I get hot when I sleep), he announced "I EVEN turned on the furnace." I was shocked. I was even more shocked when I came home and it didn't seem to be any warmer in the house. So I looked at the thermostat: 62 degrees. Um, not exactly a heatwave. So I query:

Me: I thought you turned the furnace on.

B: I did!

Me: But it is cold in here.

B: It is on!

Me: But it says it is only 62 degrees in here.

B: Yes, but it WAS 61.

Me: Um, what?

B: It was 61 in here but it was chilly so I turned it up to 62.

Me: Let me get this straight. You turned on the furnace to heat this place up by one degree.

B: Well, it took the chill off.

Me: You are a rebel.

So now it is slightly warmer, but still dang cold for October around here. Maybe by November we can turn it up to 65. So wild!

In completely different news, Jersey went for her monthly bath. She came home with a very cute bandanna. The bandanna never lasts long because B takes it off. Not Jersey. B. Something about it being too girly. Um, bandannas are SO not girly. And this one was seasonal:

How dang cool does she look? COOL not cute. She can't be girly. I would reckon to say she looks like a stud:

You know, if she was a boy and all. Also, that bandanna makes her look fat. Look at that neck roll. It is the Sharpei in her, I swear.

What else did October bring other than werewolves and getting locked out of houses? Evil Dead the Musical. Twice. Once just isn't enough. That is not their slogan, but mine. Did you even knew such a thing exists? It does. Did you know that you must go see it if given the opportunity? You must. It will change your life. You will break out into spontaneous songs singing things like "Do the Necrnomican" and singing "Candarian Demon" while making demon hands and looking at your dog who thinks you have gone nuts. You will sit in the splatter zone and come home with "blood" in your hair and all over your clothes.

So I just had to get up to let Jersey out and did the demon hands and she jumped and bit my arm. I may be bleeding for real.

I love Halloween.

Crime Watch Wednesday - Pump Up the Jams, Turn Off the Cats

2010-10-20T20:01:00.000-04:00

This week's Crime Watch Wednesday brings us the tale of someone who was fed up with being awoken at 5:30 a.m. every day, and we are not talking about B.

A woman contacted police at 5:30 a.m. to report loud music that she believed was coming from the newspaper delivery person's vehicle. Sure enough, the police responded in 15 seconds and found that it was indeed the newspaper guy's car. The suspect was very sorry.

Maybe the lady could have just asked the newspaper delivery person to turn down his radio? She was already up. You know, lady, the police have better things to do than ask a guy who is rightfully regretful to turn down the tunes.

For example, perhaps the cops could take care of those crazy street cats that are always tearing it up around midnight while I am just falling asleep. You know the ones I thought were going to get Brad? I am pretty sure if I approached them, they would just claw my eyes out.

Or what about the two dogs behind us that bark for hours on end. That is fun at 7 am. On a Sunday. THAT IS MY DAY OFF PEOPLE.

Or what about the three cats I have in my house that occasionally act like street cats downstairs while I am trying to sleep and although I have visions of things shattering all around the house, I am too tired to get up and yell down "KNOCK IT OFF!" which never works anyway.

Or the bad karaoke singers who decided to sing show tunes just as we were going to bed at 11:30 p.m. one night? We had to shut our window on a nice balmy summer night.

What is my point? I will tell you. The newspaper delivery man is on your block for maybe five minutes tops. Street cats? They fight ALL NIGHT LONG. It's their gig. Grumpy dogs? HOURS. Inside cats that think they are streetcats? A good half hour or more. Crazy karaoke singers? I don't know, I shut the window.

In the time it took you to make that call, you could have just thrown a pillow over your head and gone back to sleep. Or I don't know gone to work, like the delivery guy who is trying to earn a living to support his family or his drug habit. Doesn't matter.

Your far more annoyed and less sleep fulfilled neighbor,

Cell Phones Are Evil, But People Are Good and I Am Surprised

2010-10-17T22:17:00.000-04:00

Cell phones are evil. I came to this conclusion yesterday when I lost mine. You may be wondering how that is the cell phone's fault. It is not. That is not what makes it evil. The evil lies in the fact that the mere possibility that I lost my Blackberry FROZE ME. I repeat - I COULD NOT FUNCTION. Let me walk you through it.

My mom and I were shopping. We were in a big grocery store and I had the phone in my pocket and then later put it in my purse. My mom called me to tell me where she was in the store and then we left for the next big grocery store. It was at least an hour later when I went to call my mom to see where she was that I realized I didn't have a phone. Eventually I found her and we went to the car. No phone there.

My mom tried to call it. We couldn't hear it. I decided we would have to go back to the first store to see if by some miracle it was there. And then I had these thoughts:

I need to call B to tell him what happened. SHIT I DON'T HAVE A PHONE.
I don't even know my own brother's phone number.*
What if my client needs me?**
What is someone is reading and responding to my personal emails?
What if I find the phone and someone drove over it in the parking lot?
Number 5 might be the best scenario.
Will we really ever find this phone?
Why is the month of October being so DAMN MEAN to me?

While I was having these and many other thoughts and as we were driving to the store, my mom's phone rang and she looks at me excitedly and says "It's YOU!" Turns out I left the phone in the cart (the cart I walked myself to the cart corral) and some guy found it, kept it and apparently waited for us to call.

We drove back and I called him to get my phone. My mom told me to give him $5 to play the lottery. That did not quite go so well:

Me: Hi! Thanks so much for holding on to my phone.

Guy: No problem.

Me: Here (holding out money) go play the lotto and win.

Guy: Nah! It's no big deal.

Me: No, really - go play the lotto and win.

Guy: No, really.

Me: GO PLAY THE LOTTO AND WIN!!

Guy: uh...have fun?

And then he ran away.

But I had my phone, the evil phone that apparently runs my life. Vicky and Jersey take note. And my faith in humanity has been restored. Even if he wouldn't take my money.

This was day 16 of October. I have not even mentioned what happened on day 15 or day 13.

It is going to be a long month.

*My husband doesn't even know MY number. Have I mentioned that?
**Why can't I stop thinking about the office even for a minute and during a crisis? Ugh.

If It Is Going to Be a Bad Day When You See a Werewolf, What Happens When You Are Standing Barefoot in the Cold?

2010-10-13T19:18:00.000-04:00

Remember about a week or two ago when I said I had a bad day that started with a werewolf sighting? Well, I topped myself without even trying. Every week it is my job to take out the recycling on garbage day. If I was not the hugest procrastinator around, I would do this the evening before. That, however, is not in my nature. So I do it the morning of pickup. I had the routine down to a science, or so I thought.

You see, our front door does not self lock. Neither does our back door, but for an entirely different reason. Often I have told friends, family, and delivery men not to worry about the door shutting or slamming behind me, "it won't lock me out." You know what this means, right? IT FLIPPING LOCKED ME OUT.

Of course that would be the morning I elected not to wear socks or shoes despite the fact that it was under 50 degrees. I was also in a tshirt with wet hair having just gotten out of the shower. No keys. No phone. No mad survivor skills.

It was 6:30 a.m.

It was dark. It was cold. I was PISSED. I think I said something like "YOU'VE GOT TO BE KIDDING ME!" I looked around our very dark neighborhood. No one was up. And if they were, what where they going to do for me? So I go to the back where we have a spare key in a lockbox. I don't know the code.

I DON'T KNOW THE CODE TO GET MY OWN SPARE KEY TO MY OWN HOUSE.

And it is dark and I cannot see. And I have no shoes. Did I mention that?

I go back up front to see if I can force the door open and see the hip neighbor guy taking his garbage out. I run over there with my lockbox and scream "DO YOU KNOW THE CODE TO THIS?" Sadly, he did not. But his wife did because she lets Jersey out for us occasionally. He invites me inside and then says "Are you not wearing any shoes?"

I DIDN'T PLAN THIS YOU KNOW!!

So I got in and ready for work, although I never really got warm again. When I got to work I sent B a text that said:

FYI - Should you go outside with wet hair and no shoes on, you will get locked out in the dark having forgotten the code to the lockbox.

To which he replied:

Don't worry. I know it.

There is a lesson here folks. Teach your dog how to open doors. Because, as it turns out, the door was not even locked. The door handle on the outside just wasn't working properly. Had Jersey pushed down on the inside door handle, I could have gotten in. Instead she ran from window to window wondering what fun I was having outside. I was having a blast. An arctic blast.

Tomorrow is garbage pickup day. What are the odds that I:

Wear shoes
Wear a sweatshirt
Lock myself out
Remember the code
Learn any lesson from all of this

I better start training Jersey right now.

Guess who turned 1 on 10/10/10? Or is it 7? Who Knows, But There Was Cake.

2010-10-10T20:53:00.000-04:00

When B informed me the other day that he figured out when Jersey's birthday was* and that it was coming up the next weekend, I sprang into action. By that I mean I stumbled upon a rawhide birthday cake and decided we would do birthday pictures and have a little party. B decided I was nuts and refused to partake. Party pooper!

So first I bought the cake:

Then I told Jersey she had to pose pretty for her first birthday picture:

For comparison, this is her last year:

Then I told Jersey there was CAKE, but she had to pose with it first. So she did like a good dog**:

Then the cake was all hers:

Yes, I think that is a ghost. Someone has to watch over these animals.

But that was not all of the birthday festivities. Jersey had a friend over, Molly. They played and fought and ran around a lot. If these are blurry, it is because they are ACTION SHOTS PEOPLE:

Oh, it's on:

Happy Birthday, Baby Girl! We have loved every minute of your first year.

*Or the vet told him. Whatever.

**She is no longer a puppy, but a DOG! She even has to eat dog food instead of puppy food. My heart is crushed.

October: The Fall of Temperatures , The Rise of Monsters, and the Riddle of All Ages

2010-10-06T22:19:00.000-04:00

October is here! October is my favorite time of the year. It brings giant pumpkins like so:

I can't wait to carve these like last year's. So much fun. October also brings monsters. Check these out:

Why yes, those are scary bobbles. Why yes they are special Halloween edition bobbles of Star Wars characters. How fun is that? We have zombie Stormtrooper, werewolf Chewbacca and evil Yoda. I am just missing Darth Vadar, but I will get him this weekend.

In other news, remember when I saw that werewolf walking down the street? Well, he looked kind of like Chewbacca up there. Also I saw him again while on the phone with my mom so now she can vouch for me. Well, she didn't see him but she did hear me scream "IT IS THE WEREWOLF GUY BUT THIS TIME HIS SHIRT IS CLOSED." Hell, I think werewolf guy heard me. In fact, I can almost guarantee this since I saw him yesterday walking down the street carrying a gas can and he looked RIGHT AT ME even though I was far away. I am not sure yet what this means.

Other things that have happened since October began? The temperature dropped like crazy. We are freezing. Yet it is October so we don't want to turn on the heat. Hell, even I think it is too early. I am now attempting to keep warm by candlelight. Guess what? That doesn't work. At all. Good thing it is supposed to be 80 on Saturday. Damn weather.

I also got a speeding ticket. First one in MANY years and second one ever. Yes, I did have an immediate thought of running again, but decided against it. Maybe in 15 more years I won't even think about running. Ha. Also, could you give a girl a break? Apparently no. I wanted to shout I AM A GOOD DRIVER!!! But since I got pulled over that wouldn't seem entirely true would it?

I also had a first in my professional career the other day. A deposition in a church. I have had some strange deps in my life (a post should really be done on that), but a church? I had visions of the videographer aiming toward the altar and the witness seated under a giant cross with Jesus insuring she told the truth. Then I somehow turned that into a haunted church and walked around the house with a blanket over my head telling B that I was going to depose a ghost. He looked at me like I was nuts, but who decided the next morning to talk about how difficult the dep would be if the person just kept saying "Booooo"? That is why we are in love people.

Speaking of ghosts, my main computer might have died. B thinks I killed it. Perhaps because two others have gone to premature graves. I know that I am the common denominator but it is an Apple! It is not like I am running around getting viruses and things. One has to wonder though, why do the computers just happen to break AFTER the warranty expires?

Riddle me that, people.

My Office Was Raided, But At Least the Buzzing Stopped

2010-09-29T21:02:00.001-04:00

Remember a couple of years ago when I had a bug infestation in my office and pondered how they arrived, what they wanted, and if I would survive the horror movie my professional life had become.

I survived.

Two years later, a different office, a corner office and guess what? I have flies. FLIES! I noticed this yesterday when I spotted a huge horse fly perched on my desk lamp eyeing me evilly. We are on the third floor. Even higher up this time. I quickly sent out an SOS to my colleagues. My one coworker thought it was her fly from the day before. She refused to take it back. I mostly ignored it and swatted at it occasionally. I only grumbled under my breath when me and another associate attempted to discuss a case while swinging our arms wildly.

Then it landed on my FACE!

source

I found an office fly whisperer who came and scooped the fly out of my office with her bare hands. I suggested she put it in the stairwell so it could find its way out of the building. It did not. It multiplied. Are flies like rabbits?

Today I found two on my window. I went to find the person in charge and found him simultaneously talking to a client on the phone and swatting his window with a magazine. I sought out the fly whisperer again. She declared too many flies and left. Apparently they were all hanging out in my heating vent. ALL FIVE OF THEM! What the hell?

I complained. Someone asked me if I was scared of flies. Um, no, but does that mean it is okay for them to live in my office, glare at me and land on my face? I didn't think so.

The problem was mostly solved by a manic Raid wielding partner that sprayed so much in my office that I almost got high. Or died. I still am not sure. He used so much in his office, he fumigated himself out and had to leave.

Good news - no more flies. For today.

In other news, the fly whisperer told me that when she went to release yesterday's fly into the staircase, the fly was buzzing a lot and tickling her hand, so she opened the door and threw it in the staircase. And there was a person out there talking on his cell phone. I can imagine what his blog said last night:

Today was the strangest day. I was just minding my own business, taking a personal call in the stairway, when some crazy girl bursts out of the door and flings a fly right at my face!

Give that man some Raid!

Sex, Marry or Kill - Dexter Edition. Which Would You Choose?

2010-09-26T20:41:00.001-04:00

Hey Dexter fans!

Tonight is the season premiere, in about a half hour. I, sadly, will not be watching it with you as we are in a fight with our cable company and the end result so far is no Showtime. Go figure. Luckily, I was asked to write an advance review for Daemon's TV and was able to watch the first three episodes of this season. You can read my review here.

I think this is going to be a fantastic season. I liked what I have seen so far. If you watch it, come back and tell me what you thought or leave a comment on my review.

On to more pressing matters...

As I was watching the new episodes, I kept saying to myself, "I LOVE Dexter." And I do. But that got me thinking - could I REALLY love Dexter? Like LOVE, LOVE? As in 'til death do us part?

Here's the thing. He is a serial killer. But he only kills bad people? But he loves doing it. And he only kills bad people because he was told that is how he should do it to avoid getting caught. If not for the code, wouldn't he just kill anyone without a second thought? Therein lies the conflict.

Could you be with a killer if you knew he/she would only kill those that truly deserved it? Could you trust that person? Would that person make you feel safe or terrified? I have my own thoughts, but would love to hear what you have to say.

So, let's start it out this way. If you HAD to choose one, which would you choose to do with a serial killer?

Have sex
Marry
Kill

For the ladies, it is Dexter or someone like him. For the men, it is the female version of Dexter who is smoking hot.

Take it away...which would you choose?

And then check out what Daemon's readers would choose here.

You Know It Is Going to Be a Bad Day When You See a Werewolf Walking Down the Street

2010-09-23T22:43:00.000-04:00

Today has been a strange day. First, B found our back porch motion light on and deemed it "suspicious". Then later when I took Jersey out for the second time, her floating dummy was lying at our back door like some offering. I deemed that "spooky." Jersey just peed and went about her business.

Then I drove to work figuring all would be well. Until I saw the werewolf. Seriously, I looked over at something walking down the street and said, out loud in my car, that's a werewolf! Of course it wasn't really a werewolf. Turns out it was a guy with a very shaggy long beard and shaggy unkempt hair under a Indiana Jones' hat. Did I mention that his shirt was ripped wide open? Well, maybe not ripped, but open. It was 7 am!

That is when I knew there must be a full moon.

Look it up, folks. Full moon September 23rd. I knew I wasn't crazy. Actually I thought I might be going crazy, but that happens often.

By the way, if you try to look up images of werewolves on photobucket you will inexplicably find a picture of a dog that looks remarkably like your own. Then you will think about how your dog is not a werewolf, so why would this one be? Then you will realize "werewolf' is probably the dog's name.

Now that's a mouthful to yell out.

Oh, and if you go tell your husband that you were looking up pictures of werewolves and found one that looks like your dog. He will:

Roll his eyes at the fact that you just used "looking up pictures of werewolves" in a sentence.
He will then attempt to look up werewolves himself
He will completely disagree that the dog named werewolf looks anything like your dog named Jersey, despite this evidence:

They could totally be twins. I hope that doesn't mean Jersey will be up howling all night tonight though.

I need my sleep.

When It Rains, It Pours Yogurt a/k/a If Life Gives You Yogurt, It is Probably Because You Dropped It

2010-09-18T14:20:00.000-04:00

Things have been quite busy here in the Riddler household. Life at the office is scary busy. The trial did not help in the bit, especially when it took 7 days when it should have taken 2. And I didn't win, so there is that.* Grrr.

Also, I have been writing more reviews for Daemon's now that fall TV is picking up. They are also letting me review DVDs. That makes for fun, but busy times.

So it really was no surprise to me that eventually I would be moving too fast to not pay attention to what was going on around me. That was the other day. I like to call it Raining Yogurt Day. I was in a hurry, of course. Did you not read everything I wrote above? So I grabbed a yogurt from the fridge before sending Jersey to her resting place. No I didn't kill her! Her crate. HER CRATE! Geez, people. Well, I missed with the whole grabbing-the-yogurt thing and it fell to the floor. I picked it up surprised that it hadn't broke and threw it in my bag. Then I noticed it was leaking. So much for the no breaking thing. I grabbed another one and took Jersey out for a final pee. No, I didn't kill her! Final pee until we returned home. You people are very suspicious.

I thought it was strange that she was running around and licking my pants until I realized they had yogurt on them. Nice. So I spotted them with a lot of water and was off to work. Yes, I probably should have changed pants, but I am BUSY. Of course that resulted in my turning on the heater in the car to get the pants dried, but I was awfully proud of myself because you could not tell what happened.

Yeah, right.

After running into the ladies room before hitting the office, I happen to catch a glimpse of something pink in the mirror. YOGURT. ON MY SLEEVE. And when I mean on my sleeve, I mean covering it. Covering the jacket. Inside on the tshirt. How could I have missed this? And so I scrub and wet and all is right.

Until right before I get home and see more yogurt on my pants. Seriously, I don't even think that all of the yogurt I found could even fit into the container that I dropped. How do I consistently have these problems with food?

I blame YOU mother. Maybe you should have spent more time teaching me how to eat instead of teaching me to read at 3. Priorities!

Speaking of priorities, Jersey sure has hers:

Yes, that was a rather lame segway to show you a picture of my dog. Were you expecting something more? Look how comfortable she looks jammed up against that bookcase. I would break my neck. Of course, that is mostly because she had just gotten down from laying completely across me with her head backwards and in the crook of my neck forcing me into some weird C maneuver with my head in order to still watch TV. Yet, I didn't move. Who owns whom again?

In other news, her legs still seem awfully long and I fear she is not done growing.

I guess we will keep her anyway.

Today is our big block party in our hood. Stay tuned for an update. Actually, I don't think I told you about last year's party, so stay tuned for a double update. And when I say "stay tuned" I do not mean tonight. Two blog posts in one day is a bit overreaching for this blog, peeps.

Happy Block Party Day, bitches!

*Well the Plaintiff only got half of what she was asking for, so that is kind of a win. It is not a victory.

The Art of Laboring, Rescuing and Discovering

2010-09-06T11:28:00.002-04:00

Well, it is Labor Day. The day you celebrate all of the hard work and labor everyone does by not working. Wait. Isn't that every holiday? We are certainly practicing holiday living over here. Some more so than others. This is what I came downstairs to find:

Why, yes, that IS every single animal we own lying on B. B seems pretty happy about it right? Care to take a closer look?

Chester wants to help him play video games.

Jersey cannot really fit on B but she does a damn good job of taking up most of the rest of the couch!

And see that one right there? The cute little fuzz ball all curled up under B's arm? Also known as Brad? Yes, he ESCAPED AGAIN THE OTHER NIGHT. Escaped. Again. Is escape the right word when he basically walked through an open door? Maybe not. However, B found all three of the cats outside and managed to get them all (Chester ran right inside without any real prodding, Mooch was found under the car), except for B who made a mad leap on to a fence which he then used as his own vaulting mat to sail off into the front yard and disappear before B got there.

Why, yes, B was not thrilled to be awakened at 3:30 a.m. that night, two hours before he awakes for work, to hear my flying down the stairs screaming "I WILL SAVE YOU BRAD!!!". What can I say? I heard a major streetcat fight and my little B was not going to get hurt.

Never did find the cat fight. Or a flashlight for that matter. Brad, however, was sitting on the steps when B awoke in the morning. Is there such a thing as a cat crate? We need a cat crate for that one.

A family reunited.

In other news, B was late coming home from work today because he found a gun in the street. Yes, a GUN just lying in the STREET. A gun with a full clip. We are so gangsta' around here that we use words like "clip." So he dutifully took it to the police station who asked him why he didn't call 911. Can you imagine that call?

B: Yes, I would like to report a gun in the street.
Police: Is anyone holding it?
B: No, it is just lying there.
Police: Is anyone dead.
B: Not that I can see.
Police: Well, just bring that shit in.

Happy Labor Day everyone! May your animals remain prisoners and may your streets remain free from guns!

UPDATE: For those inquiring minds, B would like to report he is not a dumbass. He picked up the gun with his sweatshirt and the clip with his hat. No fingerprints.

Sometimes the Cruelest Jokes Are the Accidental Ones

2010-09-02T22:09:00.001-04:00

So, if you know me, you know I like to win prizes. I really like to win prizes that are delivered to me by UPS. So thrilling.

You can imagine my excitement then yesterday while I was exhaustedly slumped over my keyboard trying to come up with an interesting or witty post, but instead coming up with this, when I distinctly heard the UPS truck. My head snapped up and my ears perked up, much like Jersey's do when she hears B's car.

I ran over to the window and, sure enough, there was the UPS truck parked the wrong way in the street in front of the house next to ours. I thought to myself "I will give you a pass for parking the wrong way, if you bring me a prize Mr. UPS Guy." Okay, so I might have said that out loud.

The UPS driver got out of the truck with a big box that looked like it contained, well, a big box of prizes and headed my way. I jumped up and down and began screaming like a girl. I ran down the stairs to get my prize as Jersey was running upstairs to save me from some insane intruder that would dare to make her master scream. So I shouted, "Outta my way, baby girl. OUTTA MY WAY THERE IS A PRIZE" and ran toward the front door. Jersey immediately changed direction to follow me toward what could only be the insane attacker.

As I smiled at the UPS driver upon opening the door, Jersey let out the meanest bark and tried to get out the front door. So there I am jammed between the big front door and the screen door, trying to grab my box and trying to prevent my dog from escaping all the while ensuring the poor UPS guy that my ferociously barking dog just wants to lick him. Luckily, he was an animal lover and in no time, the two of us managed to get my box and get the dog safely back inside.

I turned around murmuring to Jersey about how she was such a good protector and her bark was so fierce when I read the label on the box that clearly said:

TO B

You have got to be kidding me! The box wasn't even for me. I might have yelled that out loud too. I may have also dropped the box right where I was standing and stalked upstairs to pout. Jersey tried to cheer me up, so I hugged her and told her she was the best prize a girl could have.

Yeah, I lied.

*Jersey really is the greatest gift and I enjoy each day with her and love coming home to her.

**I still want a prize delivery though.

Dog Days of Trial Are Over. I Have Not Yet Recovered.

2010-09-01T20:23:00.000-04:00

That is what a dog looks like after spending 8 hours at doggie daycare.

That is what Dani feels like after spending 8 days in trial.

We both need more of this.

I Am Not MIA, More Like ITM

2010-08-26T06:59:00.000-04:00

source

I am not missing in action, but in trial mode. You know what that is like. It happens every couple of months and pretty much consumes all of the real estate in my brain. Right now, I can only think about are medical records, EMGs and EEGs. I can tell you the finer points of determining whether a juror hates opposing counsel and how to try to keep that juror on the panel, but other than that, I am just a sleepy puddle.

This trial was only supposed to be three days. However, tomorrow is day three and due to the court's schedule, surprise legal issues and general insanity, I think we will be on day 7 before we see anything really happening.

So I will be pretty quiet. Although I do hope to pump out some posts this weekend. I have a lot I want to share with you. I just need to formulate some words that are not in legalese or about medical conditions that everyone has or no one has.

Until then...get some stress free sleep for me please!

Crime Watch Wednesday - Where There's Fire, There's Toast?

2010-08-18T22:20:00.000-04:00

source

This week's Crime Watch Wednesday proves the old adage "where there is smoke, there is fire" is totally wrong.

Police reported to the scene of a house fire to discover it was just a person that burned some toast.

I love the simplicity of this one. The reader is left to wonder who called the police? Why did they call the police and not the fire department? Was there actually smoke or just the smell of something burning? How did the police determine it was just toast? Did it involve breaking down doors? I would like to believe it happened like this:

Dispatch: Officers get to 123 Lane Avenue STAT - the place is ON FIRE!

Police: We are not the fire department.

Dispatch: Don't argue with me! It is an EMERGENCY!!

Police: What are we supposed to do when we get there? Shoot the fire?

Dispatch: EMERGENCY!!!

{upon arriving at the scene}

Officer 1: I don't see a fire.

Officer 2: It smells like something is burning.

Officer 1: It smells like breakfast.

Officer 1: Mmmmm...breakfast.

{upon arriving at the front door}

Owner: Can I help you?

Officer 2: Something is burning.

Officer 1: We were told there is a fire.

Officer 2: It smells like something is burning.

Owner: Um, I burnt some toast?

Officer 1: Mmmmm....breakfast

I should totally be a movie writer. Or a sitcom writer.

True story - yesterday I got to the office and saw a huge amount of people milling around the front of the building and around the elevators. Double the amount of people you find standing there when the elevator is broke. Somehow this only seemed mildly odd to me. I heard rumblings of "false alarm." Then I ran into our receptionist who informed me the building had just been evacuated minutes before. Why you ask?

Someone burnt toast on the fifth floor.

It's an epidemic, people. Lock up your bread!

Reunited and It Feels and Tastes So Good

2010-08-16T22:26:00.000-04:00

B and I weren't the only ones that were happy to have Brad home. Jersey and Brad like to pal around even though it inevitably ends with Brad's head in Jersey's mouth or Jersey chewing on Brad's ear. Until that point, though, it is love.

I submit the following evidence. These pictures were taken after I told Jersey to leave Brad alone and then a few minutes later discovered that she had "trapped" him under my desk:

One of my favorite pics:

And this one:

By now Brad was purring away:

He could feel the love:

And right about here is where it all went downhill:

Until that point, though, it was love. Just like every morning when we wake up and go downstairs, Brad appears in a flash, rubbing against Jersey, wanting to love her, loving their daily reunion.

Speaking of reunions, I had my high school reunion this weekend. I won't even tell you what year. Let's just say it wasn't a single digit. The closer it got, the more I contemplated not going. After all, I knew most of what was going on in everyone's lives via Facebook and the people that I hung out with weren't going to be there. But B said it would be good for me to be social. Please. What does he know?

What can I say about reunions? Some people grow up and a very large group never change. Some people still feel rejected despite the fact that they are a fully functioning adult, other people just don't care. The best part by far was watching a group of grown ass women shaking it to old school rap like Too Live Crew. As I said to B, "can you imagine if a current sophomore from my school wandered into this room right now? That girl would say 'what is with all of these old chicks'?"

The other best part? The food. We love food. There was a strolling dinner featuring an Asian fusion station that was fantastic. I think that is all I ate. I also tried the Caprice salad station but it is a little hard to fashion a salad like that on a plate. It just looks like you are eating a piece of cheese on a tomato with random olives. Or so says B.

Can you believe that the planning committee is already talking about the next reunion 5 years from now? Ugh. One girl at the party remarked "it seems like we should be old but I don't feel old" to which I responded "that's what old people say."

I wonder if I will even get an invite.

Knock, Knock: Housekeeping!

2010-08-15T21:18:00.000-04:00

Just a brief message to clue you into some changes on the blog. Nothing major by any means, just a few additions.

As I told you previously, I have been writing review's for Daemon's TV. When I first started, I would do the breakthrough posts to let you know that a new review was posted. After a few weeks I found that a bit too disruptive. Also, I started writing more things for Daemon's and wanted to create a special space for those things as well.

So, pages was born. I have created pages over <----- there to the left that I update when anything new happens. There is a page for all of my TV reviews, updated weekly with each show. There is a page for a recent series of articles I am writing about my all time favorite TV shows. There is a page for upcoming fall shows (so excited!). Other pages will be added a needed.

So, if you watch TV as much as I do, go over to the left and see what I am up to and what I think about what I am watching. I would love to hear what you think too!

*I am sure this is not the last format change for the blog. If anyone knows of an excellent blog designer, let me know!

Crime Watch Wenesday - It Probably Isn't Wise to Make Threats on the Phone to Companies that Tape Calls Regularly

2010-08-11T20:38:00.000-04:00

This week's Crime Watch Wednesday is proof that it is probably not wise to threaten anyone over the phone.

A man phoned his insurance company and threatened to shoot the employees despite the fact that he did not know who they were and despite the fact that they were actually located in a different state. He was upset about his insurance being cancelled despite the fact that he had stopped paying for it. He threatened to shoot them twice and then followed up with a statement to the effect that they could call the CIA, the FBI or the "asshole in the White House" but he was going to blow someone away.

Whoa, whoa, whoa partner. You have taken this a bit too far. "Call the CIA"? Like the CIA has a phone number where an insurance company can just dial in and say some lunatic insured is threatening to blow them up. That is not even CIA territory.

As for the "asshole in the White House," you are going to have to be more specific. You could be talking about anyone from half the Senate, half the Congress or the guy that walks the President's dog.

Really, though, what is the big deal? You got insurance and then you stopped paying for it and they canceled it. If you want it back PAY FOR IT. If you don't, go about your business. Imagine if someone came to your place of business and demanded something without paying for it. Would you just give it to them if they threatened to shoot you? Or would that be a robbery? Did you just threaten to rob your insurance company? You know they don't have a giant safe with cash like a bank, right? That is only in the movies.

Speaking of movies, have you ever seen the movies where the main character's every move is being watched, the government listens in on his phone calls, and inevitably his entire identity is wiped out? I won't go so far to say that your identity will be wiped out dear sir, however, you should note that none of those characters actually threatened anyone. They were just minding their business.

You, on the other hand, have actually threatened people. Over the phone. At an insurance company. Where they routinely tape every call. I am sure you probably gave them your full name and address too.

Who you gonna call now?

They Know Your Every Step. Especially When You Tell Them Your Every Step. Also, Reindeer Are Super Fast.

2010-08-09T15:52:00.001-04:00

So the last time I posted, Brad has escaped but miraculously returned the next morning like a grimy Christmas present. You will also recall that I had quite the conversation with the delivery place whom we thought were the reason for Brad's Great Escape. Turns out it wasn't so, but in the meantime a strange thing happened. Or so I thought.

After I finished yelling at the operator, she told me that she could tell me which branch delivered my package. I gave her my zip code, she told me what branch and then proceeded to tell me they don't have a phone number. I found this hard to believe but just declared "I WILL JUST GO THERE IN PERSON AND DEMAND TO SPEAK TO MY DRIVER. GOOD DAY!"

And then I didn't give it anymore thought until I came home, discovered the ripped screen and told B that I didn't think the delivery place had anything to do with it. I did not tell him, however, that while he was out searching for Brad, the delivery place drove by. He probably would have been angry that I didn't chase the driver down.

The next day after Brad was safe and sound and I was back at the office, I received a text from B indicating that the delivery place had called him and told him that they spoke to the driver who remembers seeing Brad on the catio. B told them not to worry, Brad may have been spooked, got supercat strength and busted out the screen. Not their fault. Well, not really.

Meanwhile I sat in my office perplexed. How did the delivery place know to call B? How did they get his number? When I called, I only gave them our zip code. I did not call from B's number. Hell, I didn't even call from my number. I considered this an amazing show of just HOW GOOD THEIR TRACKING COULD BE. I discussed it a lot with my coworkers and would say things like:

"How did THEY know?"

"Did they just ask EVERY driver if it saw a cat?"

"Did they just narrow down deliveries in that time frame?"

"Did they narrow down deliveries by zip code?"

"Do they have a satellite?"

"Are they watching me RIGHT NOW?"

Yes, I would look up and around the ceiling at that last one. By the time I got home I was full of conspiracy theories and thought we might have to run like Will Smith in that movie where they were tracking him all over when he mistakenly took a package in a store and the woman behind me in the theater kept gasping at "ALL OF THAT TECHNOLOGY."

So I came home prepared to tell B that we were going to have to pack light and really, how does one go on the lam with three cats and a dog, when B said:

B: What in the hell are you talking about?

Me: The delivery place! They knew to call you! I didn't give them ANY information. They have satellites. They are watching us.

B; What...what?

Me: HOW DID THEY GET YOUR PHONE NUMBER? HOW DID THEY KNOW TO CALL?

B: I emailed them yesterday.

Me: THEY KNOW EVERYTHING WE DO!!!...wait, what?

B: I. Emailed. Them.

Me: Well, hell, why didn't you tell me that? That makes a lot more sense.

B: Doesn't it?

So the delivery place isn't watching me. Allegedly. They are still suspect. Don't worry though, I am sending Vicky after them.

On a completely different topic, watch the video below. This man's wife literally gets taken by a reindeer and he does NOTHING. He barely moves.

I would like to think if we were in the same situation, B would at least TRY to run after me. However, I may be mistaken. B's response was "reindeer are REALLY fast." Well, gee thanks. Apparently, I don't have much to worry about though as B assures me I would never be somewhere where I would have to wear a big furry parka, outside in the snow with a reindeer in the vicinity.

He is probably right. Just to be safe, I am going to get one of those kid leashes for us. If the reindeer gets me, he is coming along too. Ha!

A Tribute to the One I Love Who Riddled Me With Anxiety and Almost Gave Me an Ulcer a/k/a Please Don't Do That Again*

2010-08-04T21:29:00.000-04:00

Oh, Brad. From the moment you entered our lives, you entered my heart. Then you stole it every time you sat on my lap and looked up at me adoringly. B was a little slower to give his heart away, but once you started showering him with affection, it was all over.

So when B called me Monday evening at the office raging about how the delivery guy dropped off a package and let you out, I was fearful we would never see you again.

B insisted I track down our delivery driver because he was hopping mad. That conversation proved to be futile and just got me hopping mad:

Lady: How can I help you?

Me: I need to find out who our driver is. He let our cat out and now he is missing!

Lady: I cannot give you that information.

Me: What do you mean you cannot give me that information? How can you not know who delivered our package? Aren't they scanned?

Lady: I do not have that information, but have you checked in your yard for the cat?

Me: No. I haven't. I THOUGHT I COULD JUST CALL YOU AND THE DRIVER COULD COME BACK AND DRIVE ME AROUND TO FIND THE CAT! OF COURSE I CHECKED MY YARD.

Me: Sorry, I am upset. Maybe the driver could give us an idea of where the cat went.

Lady: I cannot track that.

Me: Really? I find this hard to believe since your business is TRACKING! YOU TRACK PACKAGES BUT DON'T KNOW WHO DELIVERED THEM? IS THIS A JOKE?

It was no joke. You were gone.

B took two bicycle rides and walked Jersey around the neighborhood twice. He saw no less than 20 stray cats. You were not one of them. I kept saying that I thought you would just appear walking all stiff legged toward me like you do.

So I took my laptop on the front porch and waited, but you never came. B put out food and tuna (when have you ever had tuna?) hoping you would get hungry and come back at some point. But we were worried about you without any claws. We have heard the street cats fighting. How would you have a chance? You are too sweet.

B declared you dead. Chester and Mooch had a meeting on the dining room table and eyed me suspiciously, convinced I had something to do with your disappearance. I couldn't tell if they were happy or not.

We were definitely not happy.

We went to bed sad and worried. I didn't want to lose my little streetcat and I hoped that you would just miraculously make your way home and back to your favorite places to sleep.

I went to bed with positive thoughts and when B woke me up at 5 am declaring Christmas had come, I welcomed you into my arms and bed despite your crusty fur and dirty looking self.

To me, you were beautiful.

Welcome back home, Brad. Now, DON'T EVER ESCAPE AGAIN!**

*Also know as longest post title ever!
**Turns out that the delivery person did not let Brad out but may have spooked him into jumping out a screen. B is currently working on the screen. The cats are currently banned from the catio.

Cheese Should Not Pretend to Be a Bug and a Bug Should Not Pretend to Be a Wet Noodle

2010-07-31T19:51:00.000-04:00

You know I have issues with bugs, right? At least you know I have issues with centipedes. Although, really, who doesn't? Are there any big centipede lovers out there? I didn't think so. I am pretty sure no one cried foul when the game Centipede came out. In fact, it was probably a smashing hit because everyone wants to blow those little buggers to bits. But, I digress.

I lived on my own quite some time before I met B so I was forced to be the big bug killer, or ignorer, as the case may be. I thought I was tough. Never did kill spiders though because I figured they would do their job and kill the rest of the bugs. Hopefully I didn't swallow any of them in the process.

In any event, a while ago I think I slept with a centipede. The thought of it makes my skin crawl this many months later. I was all set for bed, glasses off, bed ready to jump in when I see a dark spot on the ceiling. Mistake #1 - I go to check it out. Mistake #2 - I get REALLY close because I cannot see well without the glasses. It was a frickin' centipede. I ran out of our bedroom screaming like a girl imitating a girl screaming. B was convinced that he needed to kill it, but it couldn't be found. I had no choice but to go to bed with pillows covering my ears, my mouth sealed shut and praying that it didn't like nostrils.

Shudder.

So now that I am spoiled with a boy, a dog and three killer cats, bugs freak me the hell out. I don't want to kill them. I want to run screaming and have someone else step in. This doesn't always work out for me, but a lot of times it does. And, sometimes, like yesterday, there is not even a bug involved. I was going downstairs with a mostly empty bowl of pasta and went to turn off the light when I felt something graze my skin:

Me: AHHHHHHHHHH

B: WHAT?

Me: Never mind. It was a piece of cheese.

Me; I thought it was a bug.

B: OH. MY. GOD. You are insane.

B: Did you think the cats were going to run up here and save you?

With no cats in sight, apparently not.

Fast forward to this morning. Jersey and I came in from outside and I saw Brad eating something in the dining room. I picked it up, looking like a small wet macaroni noodle and was carrying it to the kitchen garbage, saying along the way:

Me: You eat the strangest things Brad.

Me: Where do you find noodles?

And then I poked it. And then it turned over. And then it was a very wet, but very alive BUG IN MY HAND THAT LOOKED LIKE A CENTIPEDE BUT WASN'T.

The only appropriate response was:

Me: AHHHHHHHHHH

And I screamed. And I jumped. And Jersey came over to help me but she didn't know what the problem was. Then she thought it was playtime. Then I couldn't find the bug. Brad was still in the dining room staring intently at the floor where the bug used to be hoping it would materialize. And I kept shaking my hand while looking for the bug because I COULD STILL FEEL IT. Finally, I found it and threw it in the trash still alive.

I hope it isn't creating an army in there.

Crime Watch Wednesday - I Can Stroke You But You Can't Stroke Me

2010-07-28T22:00:00.000-04:00

This week's Crime Watch Wednesday is a very special edition from my Mom's hood and highlights the unintended consequences of compliments.

A woman reported being assaulted by a bar manager right before closing time. She was stroking his beard and "complimenting" him when he grabbed her breasts and told her they were "nice, too." She slapped him. He slapped her. No one got lucky that night.

What has dating come to these days? A nice gentlemen tries to pay a classy woman a compliment and he gets charged with assault. The nerve! In other news, perhaps it is not the wisest course of action to stroke a man's beard in a bar at 2:00 a.m. when he is probably drunk, you are totally drunk, and wise decisions cannot be made.

Can you imagine the police report on this incident?

We arrived at the local watering hole shortly after closing time on reports of lewd behavior. Upon entering the bar, we found a man with a scraggly looking beard, like it hadn't been washed in days, and a 50 year old woman in a too low cut top with a large beer stain on it. When asked for her version of events, the woman stated "I love a man in a beard and told him so. He then tried to feel me up. The nerve!" The man, when it was his turn, stated "Yo, this woman I wouldn't think about twice was bending over the bar, showing me the goods, stroking my beard and paying me a compliment. So I paid her one back. What's the big deal?" He may have called her Sugar Tits too.*

In all seriousness, ladies, do not put yourself in a position where you are alone in a bar after it closes. If you do find yourself in that position, do not stroke anything on a man lest you be stroked in return. And that is my public service announcment for the week.

*Special shout out to Mel! Just don't shout back, okay?

The Cast of Characters May Change, But I Remain Insane

2010-07-27T19:58:00.000-04:00

Have I ever told you how crazy the people in my office building are? Not the people I work with, although they have their days, but the people in the other office suites, in the lobby and in the parking lot? It is enough to make me appear like this on any given day:

Here are some of the characters I deal with:

The Child Walking Around in an Adult Body While Waiting for the Elevator:

Man: Is that an attorney's office?
Me: Yes.
Man: Are you an attorney?
Me: Yes.
Man: Is HE an attorney?
Me: Yes.
Man: Is SHE an attorney?
Me: Yes.
Man: Did you go to law school?
Me: AHHHHHHHHH

The Mr. Obvious Stalker:

Man: Do the elevators typically take this long?
Me: Yes, when one is broken.
Man: One is broken?
Me: Yes. [pointing to Out of Order sign]
Man: So one is not working?
Me: AHHHHHHHHH

The Village Idiot Posing as a Salesman:

Man: I am looking for Danielle's office.
Me: I am Danielle.
Man: No.
Me: What?
Man: She is taller than you.
Me: I am sitting down?
Man: She has your hair.
Me: Does she have my glasses?
Man: Yes.
Me: I am her.
Man: No.
Me: AHHHHHHHHH

The Woman Who Should Have Had a Door Slam in Her Face:

Me: [opening door for lady with VERY full arms]
Lady: I don't need you to open the door.
Lady: I am not going that way.
[and then she followed me through the door]
Me: AHHHHHHHHH

This all happened in the span of one hour on one day.

I wish I were kidding.