Friday, November 30, 2007

Roar

Last night was a lesson in wildlife. Los Gatos…translates to “the cats” but it should be called the “the cougars.” The ladies were out in force last night. As we (Boyfriend and his two friends) entered the club ready for a wild night of drinking and dancing…it became obvious that we were being watched…and by “we” I mean Boyfriend and his friends. The 40-somethings were on the prowl with their sequined crop tops and collagen swollen lips.

The Timberlake was bumping and these ladies knew every word. I was basically fighting these ladies off Boyfriend with a large stick. I thought I was gonna have beat some old bitches down. Luckily Boyfriend’s friends were all too single and willing so the attention was easily diverted. One particular little piece of work (not so much a cougar…more of a haguar) who had a little ti miny martoonis pulled one of these unsuspecting boys out on the dance floor and was “dipping it low” in possibly the most disturbing manner.

She proceeded to chew him up and spit him out. But I got pictures…blackmail is sweet.

P.S. NaBloPoMo is over…woo. I am guessing that my blogroll over the next few weeks is gonna be a little sparse…but never fear. I will be here blogging away.

Thursday, November 29, 2007

Like A Chain Letter From Hell

I got tagged…and I kinda hate this person now. But we are reaching the home stretch of November and I gots nothing else to write about so I will propagate this nonsense and annoy the hell out of seven others.

The Rules
Link to the person that tagged you, and post the rules on your blog.
Share 7 facts about yourself.
Tag 7 random people at the end of your post, and include links to their blogs.
Let each person know that they have been tagged by leaving a comment on their blog.

7 Random Facts
  1. Last time I had to share a random fact about myself was at a leadership retreat…I told the group that I have a chinchilla named Dante. (I have never had a chinchilla)
  2. I like to color. I have an extensive collection of coloring books and crayons. I even do the little mazes and kindergarten-level word scrambles. Boyfriend always asks for placemats for me to color on at restaurants.
  3. If I were to have plastic surgery it would be an earlobe reduction or a toe-shortening procedure. I, like most females, have plenty insecurities when it comes to my body…but my long-ass ski toes and my dumbo earlobes have always plagued me. My mom tells me the story (constantly) of when she first saw me after I was born…she thought I was so cute because my huge earlobes were resting on my shoulders and would quiver when I breathed…sounds like some freakishly ugly shit to me…but call it what you will mommy dearest.
  4. I know the temperature at which algae stops growing in hot springs…it is 167 degrees in case you were curious.
  5. I watched Knocked Up last night. It looked funny to me and I wanted to see it in the theaters…but I had been putting it off. I think subconsciously I was afraid that watching a movie about unplanned pregnancy might result in a similar fate for me. I’m not superstitious…but fingers crossed salt over the shoulder anyway.
  6. I’m wearing velvet pants today and it makes me feel fancy.
  7. When I was in sixth grade I sat next to (and had a little crush on) a boy who would roll up pieces of plastic use them to snort a mixture of mustard and paste…I saw him recently…strung out…surprise surprise.
The 7 Victims
Please don’t put me on your “People To Kill” list for this:
  1. Ash In Wonderland
  2. Beverley Blog
  3. Blogapotamus Rex
  4. I Am A MeMe Addict
  5. Katie
  6. PluggedOut
  7. StickyFeathers

Wednesday, November 28, 2007

Thank God I’m a Suburban Girl

This morning I had to haul my ass to San Francisco for a meeting…we all know how much I love that. I don’t know what it is about the city that makes me feel like I need to gussy myself…wear real girl shoes, brush my hair and pull out my wool coat.

Anyway, after fighting traffic all the way up there and looking for goddamn parking for ten-gajillion hours…I finally broke down and valet parked. Super…there goes five-trillion dollars. As I handed over my key to the skeezy valet I was suddenly relieved that I had remembered to hide my Victoria Secret bag with pretty pink bra under the seat.

I walked into the building and to the elevator to start my ascent to the sixth floor when I saw the sign on the door that said:

ELEVATOR OUT OF ORDER
TAKE THE MOTHER-EFFING STAIRS
BITCH!

Or something like that. Are you kidding me? I can’t even walk a block in these death shoes, let alone climb six flights of stairs. As I stood there, planning my next move, (maybe the sign is just to trick me into exercise…maybe I could fake sick...maybe there is a window-washer around here who will hoist me up on his pulley thing) a little old lady came through the door and started up the stairs. Dammit…now I have to do it.

Luckily, I made it to the top with no serious injury and only small pit stains.

You thought the climax of the story was gonna be here…didn’t you? You thought there was going to be a horrendous meeting and a eventfully bad drive out of the city. Well you were wrong. We already climaxed. That’s it. I had to drive and park and use my legs. That is my bad day. And you know what?…as bad days go…that is a pretty good one.

Tuesday, November 27, 2007

I'll Pencil You In For March

Because God knows I have no time for your nonsense before then. Just kidding...well half kidding. I just took a look at my calendar and realized that it is almost effing Christmas! And with the amount of Christmas shopping that I have done (zilch), all things non-holiday will have to wait until after the first of the year. I figure that will take at least a month...add in and extra month for procrastination and laziness and that takes us to March.

Well, I have to at least hold out for the rest of this month for all this NaBloPoMo rubbish. But luckily that ends on Friday.

Monday, November 26, 2007

The Best Cure for Vacation Hangover:

Do absolutely nothing.

Today was the most wonderfully wasted day. I stayed home and slept in until noon. I ate and did jack shit and it was SUPER.

Tomorrow it is back to reality...but my much needed recovery day will get me through the rest of the week no problem.

Sunday, November 25, 2007

I'm Back and Alive...Barely

So the trip was crazy fun. There was all sorts of crazy fun people and we did all kinds of crazy fun things...that is what it takes to have a crazy fun time. My predictions for the trip were, of course, right on.

It was cold. Oh my God...I thought Chicago sucked...this was the worst! I finally mastered the ensemble that could best shield me from the elements by the last night. It involved long underwear, gloves, a scarf, six layers of various shirts and jackets and a lot of alcohol...which brings us to predictions two...

There was so much beer. After Boyfriend and I (mostly Boyfriend) finished our two 30-packs of Coors, we finally decided that enough was enough...but let me tell you...lack of beer is no end to a party for these crazy fun people. They must chipmunk liquor away for just these types of situations...because the party went on well into the morning.

And the MEAT! Dear lord...do you have a clue how many animals lost there lives for this event? I don't either...but it was a lot. Game hens and turkeys...cows and pigs...none were spared and all were deep fried. Mmmmm.

Lastly, there was the fire. The largest fire I think I have ever seen close up. But it wasn't just about the wood burning...that got old real fast. Chairs, pine cones and rocks (yes...a rock will light on fire...given enough gasoline...anything is possible) quickly became the objects of the rampant pyromania that seemed to plague our camp.

Other highlights include, but are not limited to:
  • Gun! Lots of guns!
  • Drunk dancing people
  • Quad riding super fast
  • The bottomless pit that we could throw stuff into
  • Only getting hassled by the ranger once, even though we deserved it a lot more.
  • Only one trip to the emergency room...and surprisingly it wasn't me...so all in all...a crazy fun trip.

Saturday, November 24, 2007

Reporting Live from the Wilds of Central California

Well kinda.

I wrote this before I left and Sister is posting for me (thanks sister, especially since I sent this to her through a series of ten text messages from my 10-key cell phone...skills...I know). Let's see how accurate I am:
  • I am cold.
  • We drank a bunch of Coors Original in the can and ate a lot of meats.
  • Someone set something on fire.
Good summary of the events to come, which will be explored in detail upon my return...stay tuned.

Friday, November 23, 2007

Camping? In November? Are you out of your mind?

Yes I am.

Boyfriend and I are going camping.

After last night's Thanksgiving dinner at his sister's not quite air tight house (30 degrees indoors) I decided to rethink my camping gear and threw in a bunch of long underwear and fuzzy hats. I hope I make it.

Thursday, November 22, 2007

Gobble Gobble

Creative title, yes? Happy Turkey Day y’all.

I am a big fan of traditions. I am pretty much the tradition nazi in my family. Every Thanksgiving we wake up in the morning and watch the Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade…or at least I watch it while my mom and dad bicker about who is responsible for what. The table was set by my meticulous mother at least a week ago and dad makes the nasty bird carcass do the turkey dance (a sprightly can-can across the cutting board) before preparing it for the oven. Sister and the rest of the family come over and we all sit down and eat and drink ourselves stupid and then play games and laugh until bedtime.

This year is different. The dinning room table is clear and the cupboard is pretty much bare. My mom is away and my sister has other plans.

I have many things to be thankful for…a wonderful family…a wonderful boyfriend…a great job…a comfortable home…and those are just the big things. There are a host of little blessings in my life that I won’t even bore you with. But I can’t help feeling a little sad that the traditions are not going to be a part of this year.

Wednesday, November 21, 2007

Nom Nom Nom

Well I answered my own question…to get ice cream…a girl has to go to Safeway and buy it her damn self. So that is what I did. And I am well on my way to meeting my weight goal (gaining not losing).

I am feeling much better now that I have some nummies in my tummies (yes, us cows have multiple tummies), but that is not the highlight of my day. The COOLEST part about the holidays…not vacation or turkey or ugly sweaters…it is Peppermint ice cream. OMG! Sooooo good. I don’t know why the stores think it is only for Christmas time…it is good year-round. I could eat it EVERY day! It is like crack without the nasty side effects and illegality.

For those of you have not tasted the wonderful goodness of peppermint ice cream let me share its secrets with you. The chilly pink creamy treat is mixed with ribbons of sugary red and green peppermint-flavored goo and chunks of candy cane. A masterpiece on its own, but mix that with some chocolate sauce or better yet, add some milk and a few candy canes and blend that shit up and you have the best milkshake ever.

Ok…time to eat my lunch…guess what it is gonna be…

UPDATE: The downside of peppermint ice cream is when it is fed in extreme quantities to someone who is lactose intolerant (like myself), rumbling will ensue.

Tuesday, November 20, 2007

What Does a Girl Have to Do to Get An Ice Cream Around Here?

I am a depression eater. Sad, stressed, upset…I tend to crave the junkiest of junk foods. So between a miserable cold, a painful back, my monthly visitor, my grandmother’s funeral, ridiculous amounts of work to do and the thought of not spending thanksgiving with my family…I am basically planning on gaining at least 40 pounds in the next few days.

Only problem…nothing yummy in the house. Not a ice cream, cookie or piece of cake to be found. I found one cherry cough drop…that is almost candy.

Don’t get me wrong…life isn’t all bad. I am home with the puppies and I get to see Boyfriend and I get to go camping and have a few days off. So maybe the cough drop will hold me over.

Monday, November 19, 2007

Lets Talk About Spell Check Baby (Yes…Too Many Syllables…Live With It)

Ok Mr. Gates…I get it…you are the master of all you see. But seriously…do you think I am a complete moron?

Apparently so. Is it not possible that I would want a lowercase word at the beginning of a new line, or after…GASP…a period? Is it not possible that when I type the word slimey (with an e…because I grew up with your crazy spell check program and have never needed to amass my arsenal of correctly spelled words) that I really mean slimy? I guess not, because Microsoft Word seems to autocorrect such a spelling error as “smiley.” Ok fine…it is possible that there were some other misplaced letters in that word that might have made Word interpret my poor spelling and typing skills as something cheerful with a mouth instead of ooey (which is not a word by the way) gooey, but seriously…can’t we just go back to the little red underlines?

I know…some hot tech geek (read Boyfriend) is going to tell me that I can turn off the autocorrect feature. But that isn’t the point. The point is that in my last post I told you that, “I have an aversion to eating smiley insects,” and while yes…I am a little freaked out at the idea of munching on a happy little caterpillar…I was actually talking about the texture of such a creature in a culinary capacity.

I am feeling incredibly misunderstood.

Sunday, November 18, 2007

Hey Bear Grylls…wtf?

I am a big discovery channel fan. Love the Mythbusters and the Dirty Jobs and shhh….don’t tell my engineer father…an occasional Modern Marvels. Recently, I have started watching Man vs. Wild a little…because…what would I do if I was stranded on a Norwegian Fjord? The host, Mr. Bear Grylls, (like he could have done anything else other than make a career as a mountain man with a name like that) has all sorts of useful information for me on local predators to be wary of and how to fight hypothermia (other than naked sleeping bag sharing) and flora and fauna that can be sustenance for a weary traveler. As interesting and useful as this info is…I can’t help but vomit a little in my mouth when I see him chowing down on a grub or ripping the guts from a lizard or chomping into the belly of an alive and squirming salmon. Gross! Was that really necessary? You obviously have a full film crew with you…doesn’t one of them have some peanuts or something? Couldn’t you just say something like, “if a person was really starving they could eat one of these,” and then not actually eat it. I guess my aversion to eating smiley insects or wriggling animals would not make me the ideal candidate for survival in the wild…I guess that is why the show isn’t called Ashley vs. Wild.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Did I Mention That I HATE Flying?

I hate flying*. There is very little about the entire process that I don’t hate. I hate having to foresee my every need in my destination. I hate having to figure out who the hell is going to watch my monsters. I hate the lugging of bags and the waiting in line after line after line to do something that is not the kind of fun that I think is line-waiting worthy. I hate being racially profiled and selected for the special security screening. I hate removing my shoes and disposing of all liquids…they thought of shoe bombs and liquid bombs…you really think they aren’t gonna come up with something else now? I hate being extra early for something I don’t really want to do so I can sit next to this guy who is drooling a little and smells suspiciously of urine. I hate sitting in the middle seat on the airplane…which for some reason is like vitally important for weight and balance because that skinny bitch a row in front of me has an entire row to herself. I hate how I always fall asleep with my mouth hanging open…even when I jury rig a mouth-closing contraption with my standard-issue unwashed airline blanket. I hate how they specifically pick out the small-bladdered people to sit in the window seat…really?...four trips to the bathroom on an hour and 45 minute flight?...maybe you should visit your Urinary Specialist...and while you are there you should ask for a referral to an ear nose and throat doctor...all that bull-like snorting is not normal and can't be doing anything for your social life. Free Diet Coke…ok…not something I hate. I hate waiting for my bags…which by Murphy’s Law ALWAYS come out last. I hate the thought of having to do it all again sooner than I would like. Can someone please invent that teleporter now?

*Don’t worry Boyfriend…not your brand of flying…I hate that commercial bullshit (Boyfriend is a pilot and I love that hassle-free stuff).

Friday, November 16, 2007

What Do I Do?

I hope you weren’t looking for something witty or funny in any way…not feeling it today.

My Grandmother and I never really got along. It was always a hard relationship filled with unsaid things and misunderstanding. Her drinking, smoking and strict nature in contrast to my deep-thinking prudent self was always a big canyon between us.

Whether or not we agreed on politics or social issues was not the issue. Family is the tie the binds and we loved each other unconditionally.

Rest in peace Gram…I love you.

Thursday, November 15, 2007

I Don’t Wanna

I’m sick and nearly deaf…and I don’t want to blog. Damn you NaBloPoMo! Curses! Can’t a girl just take a ever-loving day off? Why did I sign up for this nonsense? I don’t wanna! No! I’m not gonna!

Shoot…I kinda did…didn’t I?

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Hot Minivan!

In high school I was playfully called “Soccer Mom,” mostly because of my protective nature, my sweet ’91 GMC Safari, and the fact that all my friends decided to wait until age 19+ to get their drivers licenses. I never actually played the game or ever even really attended one back in the day.

Boyfriend decided to join a soccer team…not because he is particularly skilled in the game of soccer…more because he just likes that whole team thing. I like it too…but with my spastically horrific physical talent, I would merely embarrass myself and all those who might join my team…so instead I have taken on more of the cheerleader role…oh who am I kidding…I’m not perky or small enough to be a cheerleader.

I am a soccer mom and I embrace it. I am totally psyched about designing jerseys for “The Ladybugs” (how fierce could those be?) and I am fully planning on orange slices and Capri Suns for the team next game. Who cares if they don’t win, (cause they haven’t) they are my team!

Tuesday, November 13, 2007

Hey Baby…This is Barry White

Ok fine…there isn’t much of a physical resemblance, but my voice right now…wow…it is sooooo sexy. It would make even the most fridged bitch weak in the knees. Two people have called me on the phone today and when I answer they say, “Oh I have the wrong number,” only to call back 30 seconds later after they realized that it was, in fact, the right number and that Ashley had obviously undergone an emergency gender reassignment procedure.

So apparently amongst all the lack of sleep, singing my lungs out and the icy chill of Chicago…I managed to develop a cold. I know mom…I shouldn’t have stayed out so late and I should have brought a warmer jacket, but at the time I wasn’t really thinking that far ahead. Last night was a different story…as I almost died from choking on my own snot…my life (ok fine…my trip) flashed before my eyes and I reevaluated my plans for the next week. The plan had been: work, play, sleep, work, play, sleep, work, play, sleep. Now the plan is more like: work and play while you sleep.

Here I sit at work, hacking up a lung with my glassy sad eyes and used-tissue barricade that warn people to stay away. The people in the office seem to get it and are steering clear for the most part. The people who are emailing me with all sorts or ridiculousness...not so much.

Monday, November 12, 2007

Yep…I’m A Cutter

Don’t worry…no need for an intervention…it isn’t that kind of cutting. I am a graphic designer with horrible overuse of the die cut. Odd shapes…unexpected cutouts…I am all about them. My problem is that when I create such diecuttie creations…I have many many drafts. This wouldn’t be a big deal (unless you are one of those…paperless people) for most people, but for me, as a cutter, it is quite painful.

You see, each draft needs to be cut out. How can anyone viewing my draft see the true brilliance of the piece if it isn’t cut out? Hence my strong attachment to my scissors and other cutting paraphernalia.

Today I am working on what can only be described as a giant doily…and as such…has required me to spend my day hunched over the cutting mat with my exacto knife for basically five hours. My neck hurts and I have blister on my finger and I have at least 10 versions of this thing cut out on my desk now…on second thought…maybe I do need an intervention.

Sunday, November 11, 2007

Full Member of the Pen 15 Club As of 11 A.M. This Morning

Ah San Francisco…the city by the bay…where people wear flowers in their hair and always leave their hearts behind. Cable cars, the Golden Gate Bridge, the sourdough…so many wonderful things are part of this beautiful city. What is my favorite? Hmmm…so hard to choose.

You know what isn’t hard to choose though? The worst thing in San Francisco. This is an easy one for me since I witnessed it today with my own eyes.

It was a lovely Sunday morning. The sunshine was peaking through the fluffy cloud cover in warm golden beams. The smell of wet pavement from the last night’s rain reached my nose as Boyfriend and I headed out of the city after a soccer game. As we looked out the window we saw joggers and people walking dogs…and oh…look there…a guy standing on the corner shaking something. “What is he shaking?” I asked myself as we neared his location. As we got closer I noticed the liquid stream that was also involved and the floppy pink protrusion that he was shaking. Yes…this man was peeing. Into the street. No attempt to hide it. OH. MY. GOD.

Appalled…that is what I am…APPALLED!

Saturday, November 10, 2007

If You're a Slacker and You Know It...Clap Your Hands

I fully intended to end my brief-post streak today as I am finally home and had more than five minutes to myself for the first time in weeks. But that didn’t happen. Instead, I decided to spend all day catching up on my Ugly Betty and Chuck and snuggling with my puppies. I thought I could multitask with the blogging and snuggling…but Gus was pressing so closely that single-handed typing was as much as I could muster.

So yeah…this is what you get. Live with it.

Friday, November 9, 2007

SOOOOO Not My Fault!

I totally have been posting every goddamn day in November! Too bad the fancy Fairmont had the internet speed of Mr. and Mrs. Slowsky. (Push It!) No seriously…it wasn’t slow. It was nonexistent. Apparently the types that stay at the Fairmont with their private butlers and their colostomy bags don't need internet access.

Now that I am back in the world on the technologically living (paying a whopping $10 to use the airport wireless) I will fix my posts. But anyone who knows me…knows that I am committed to the mission. This better not wreck my chances of getting a prize.

Thursday, November 8, 2007

Shut In

I have now been in Chicago for nearly a week and I haven’t seen much of it. Mostly the inside on my hotel room and its room service tray or the convention center. But tomorrow is the last of my responsibility and I am determined to explore this wonderful city. And by explore I mean take a cab to the nearest department store and buy things that I could have bought at home.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

Ah-hem

I have lost my voice. It is gone, missing, nowhere to be found. I try to say "hello" and "squeak" comes out. Apparently singing “hold on loosely” and “highway to hell,” at the top of you lungs will do that to a person.

But even if I could talk, which I can’t, I wouldn’t be able to hear myself over the ringing in my ears.

I went to a work event tonight and the performer was a bunch of has-beens from Journey, Chicago and other similar bands who are called “Big People.” Have you ever heard of a lamer (yes I know it isn’t a word but it is perfect for describing this band) band name? I didn’t think so. And yet, regardless of lameness, they rocked the house.

Tuesday, November 6, 2007

C-C-C-C-C-COLD!

Chicago? In November? Really? What moron decided that was a good time and place for a conference.

I am sitting here in my parka in my fancy hotel room contemplating starting a small fire in the corner to thaw my nose out, because no matter how far I crank the thermostat up...it remains just above zero up in here.

Yes I am a wussy Californian, used to my cushy state with its lavish sun and overly-temperate weather, but seriously…ITS COLD!

I would write about the Mr. Chatterbox and Stinky McStinkison that I sat between on flight here or the near fire-breathing rage that I experienced earlier today…but unfortunately as the temperature of my fingers drops, my number of typos increases…and just trying to type this has taken like four hours.

Monday, November 5, 2007

Yes This is Filler…You Wanna Make Something Of It?

I had this super post all planned out in my head as I suffered further nightmares in my travels…it was going to be super. But unfortunately I am running on an hour and half of sleep and for a girl who prides herself on solid 12-hour sleep nights…that is rough stuff. Delirious with sleepiness (insert maniacal laughter followed by a crying jag here), that brilliant gut-busting post will have to wait until tomorrow.

Sunday, November 4, 2007

Technical Difficulties?

I’m blogging at cha from the San Jose airport…where I have been, and will continue to, sit for hours. Apparently the plane that I should be on and 10 minutes closer to Chicago in is having a generator problem.

Ok fine…things happen…I get that. What I don’t get is this…the airline employee just came on over the loud speaker and said, “Ladies and gentlemen…may I have your attention. Our flight is going to be delayed this morning due to a generator problem in the plane. This is a very simple problem to fix, but our San Jose mechanics can’t fix it. So we have called the San Francisco mechanics and they will be coming down to fix the problem. This should take anywhere from one to two hours. Thank you for your patience.”

This information not only annoys me because I must remain here…sitting on the dirty airport floor, leaning against a trashcan…but it also worries me. Maybe I am reading this wrong, but it seems to me that the airline is basically saying, “our mechanics are incompetent.” Doesn’t inspire much confidence. Maybe I should always fly out of San Francisco now…at least their mechanics can fix a generator.

UPDATE: If you call United Airlines’ 800 number they will tell you that they can “provide you with up-to-the-minute information on flight arrivals and departures.” Well it is a good thing that I am smarter than the automated man…because he says that my flight is 2 hours delayed…but I know that it is FREAKING CANCELLED! It is also super than United has its act together and as a replacement for my 8 am flight they can get me on a red eye with a stopover in Phoenix if I haul ass to OAKLAND! Don’t worry I am smarter than that lady too and I got on a reasonable flight…I guess I’ll just hang out at the airport. It won’t be too bad…I have a whole clan of University of Washington marching band geeks who are kinda entertaining in a I-want-to-spoon-my-eyes-out-dear-god-I-hope-I-was-never-like-that kind of way.

Saturday, November 3, 2007

Halloween…Take Two

I know that Halloween was here and has gone this year, but when Halloween falls on a stupid day like a Wednesday, the masked debauchery is likely to span both weekends before and after.

So I have Halloween party tonight and I am a little anxious about it…not for the normal reasons either. About a month ago (with lots of beer in us) boyfriend and I had the most brilliant costume idea. Discussing our plan we got giddy with excitement. This was truly the most original and funny costume ever.

Over the past month I have tried to keep the costume secret (for extra effect) but have needed to tell a few people, just to share our brilliance. These are some selected responses:

“That is kinda messed up”
“Are you sure want to do that?”
“You are going to HELL!”

So…um…yeah…the costume is a little blasphemous…a little persecutive…and apparently not that funny to my closest friends…oops. I can’t even bring myself to reveal what it is here for fear of death threats.

I just hope we don’t get beat down be an angry mob of zealots.

Friday, November 2, 2007

My Little Living Garbage Disposal

Here is a close up of my special pumpkin from Halloween:

my pumpkin

Concerned about the hoodlums in my neighborhood and the safety of my work of art, I brought the pumpkins inside for the night. When I got home from work yesterady...this is what I discovered:

IMG_0023

Notice the difference? It is subtle…but if you look hard you can see that…oh…the little pumpkin is missing. “Where could it go?” you might ask. It doesn’t have legs…it can’t just walk away. I searched the house, looking for some trace of my little pumpkin. I found none…until I went out to do my daily pooper-scooper duty. Ah…I see (don’t worry I will spare you the photo of that one).

Apparently Gus got a little snackish in the middle of the night and decided to help himself to a midnight pumpkin nibble.

Not that this behavior is all that shocking. Gus has a habit of eating questionable things. Rags, earrings, my face…but the most disturbing thing he ever ate has burned an image on my mind…nylons. Seems rather harmless right? Think again. The eating and swallowing of the nylons was not the bad part. The disturbing part was when he came tearing through the house butt tucked under him, squealing and looking back at the thing trailing behind him. The elasticity of nylons might be helpful in smoothing ripples in thighs…but not so good for the digestive track. I donned my dish gloves and assisted my pup with his…ok…I’ve relived enough…you get the picture. Anyway…the hoodlum kids didn’t get my pumpkins…instead it was my hoodlum dog.

Thursday, November 1, 2007

Pay No Attention to the Women With the Furry Feets

My brain is on overload these days. There is a finite number of things that I can remember and I have exceeded my limit. You would think that would mean that I would be forgetting a few things here and there…but you would be wrong. Apparently the overload is causing an entire system meltdown and keeping me from accomplishing the most simple daily tasks like...say…remembering to wear shoes.

Oops…I left the house this morning for work in my fuzzy sheepskin slippers. Über professional.

On a completely unrelated side note…my friend Jen got a package today. It was a platypus letter opener / pâté spreader. Everyone must have one of these…civilization depends upon it.