Day 30.

Woo! It's over! NaBloPoMo 2007 is a wrap. Probably the most lame month of my life, to date. Way to go, Life. Nice timing.

****

Tonight I sat at the bar sipping a kiddie cocktail, because I didn't feel like drinking but I did feel like sipping a Sprite, and then while I was ordering it, I thought, well, hell, pour some grenadine in that bad boy, bartender. Let's get wild!

When I whipped out the knitting needles, though....well, I think I've pretty much hammered in the last nail on my Coolness coffin. I am now officially 75 years old.

Day 29.

This has kept me chuckling for the last three days:

Snowball

It's also made me hum the same Backstreet Boys song for three days straight. Which is sort of maddening, but sort of totally worth it.

When I first saw this video, within seconds my fingers were furiously at work Googling the hell out of this alleged dancing cockatoo. One of the articles about him, from USAToday, said that when Snowball's previous owner gave him to Bird Lovers Only Rescue, he included the CD of "Everybody," telling the refuge's owner to put it in and watch what would happen.

Read more about Snowball and the bird refuge where he lives here.

Day 28.

Tonight, my sister's family came over for pizza, and we started putting up some of my Christmas decorations.

I live in a tiny apartment, and have enough Christmas decorations for at least a 4-bedroom home. People who come into my apartment in December usually mutter something under their breath when they think I can't hear, usually along the lines of "Lampoon..."

No part of my Crazy Christmas Collection is quite as bizarre, though, as the manger scene that I inherited from my grandmother. It started out pretty straightforward, you know, but then people kept on buying her more pieces, and I think she felt obligated to put it all out at once. Because, you see, my family prides itself in having mastered the delicate art of how to lay on the most effective Guilt Trip, even about stupid crap like figures from a manger scene.

So I give you:

The Manger: Reloaded.

Feel the Power.

Day 27.

First of all, thanks to everyone who expressed their condolences over Babe. So sweet. It is precisely things like that that make me remember why I wanted to start a blog in the first place.

****

Hi.

Things are pretty status quo here. Still sort of depressed about yesterday. Still coughing and hacking. Did I tell you I have a sinus infection? Because I do. I've had it for, oh, about FIVE WEEKS NOW. I just went through a week's worth of antibiotics that did jack shit, so tonight my doctor called me, and told me he's changing my medication, and if that doesn't get rid of the infection, he wants a CT scan of my sinuses. Awesome! Right in time for the holidays. Rad!

****

Hey guys, we're in the home stretch. Can you believe it? Boy, I can. These last few weeks of daily blogging have been like my own private Bataan Death March. Or maybe it just wasn't really a stellar month that I wanted to really document. Seriously, next year at this time, I can look back at these entries and be all, "Damn! November 2007 really fucking sucked!" I can't wait.

However, I'm no quitter. Actually, I'm totally a quitter, but I've met several sweet folks through NaBloPoMo and this blog in general, so I soldiered on. I was feeling pretty bad about missing most of the end of last week, too, so I went ahead and made these:

Faux Day 23
Faux Day 24
Faux Day 25

I know it's cheating, but you know. Whatevs. It's not going by the NaBloPoMo Book surely. Not that anything like that exists.

Three more days, kids. Three more days.

Day 26.

So I fell off the NaBloPoMo bandwagon. Thanksgiving was wonderful, but the weekend really went downhill from there.

Today, I had a vet come to my apartment to put Babe down.

She hadn't been doing well, and it was the best thing. But my heart still hurts.

Thanks to the digital age we live in, I have way more photos of Babe than I would have had if I'd had to get film processed. Click on the photo below for Babe's very own Flickr photoset.



I miss her.

Faux Day 25.

As penance for missing three days of NaBloPoMo, because I knew what was coming and I just didn't feel like writing anything, I am posting three Faux Day Entries that chronicle what I did those three days. Which was basically nap and eat turkey and cheddar sandwiches. But rules are rules, man. So here we go.

Faux Day 25

Tonight we took Moxie to my parents' house for the first time, to meet their two Bostons:



That's Bertie on the left, Herbie on the right. They are sort of....intense. Ok, not sort of, they're batshit crazy. But in a really cute way.

Herbie is a rescue and thus riddled with your typical Rescue Dog Issues. Every day, he strives to convince my parents that he really IS worth keeping, really! Which he's been doing for four years now. Bertie is just....Bert. He marches to the beat of his own drummer, and from what we can gather, said "drummer" might be a bit "Special Ed."

Anyways, the night went better than expected, Moxie was pretty freaked out until my mom and dad had successfully loaded her with turkey and Milkbones. Mojo, because he is my Best Log, just sort of wiggled around and thought it was pretty badass that he kept on getting fed, too. Herbie snubbed all the dogs and snuggled my mom all night, and Bert made the mistake of standing over Moxie to sniff her until she growled at him to Back The F Up. Did I mention he made this mistake about six times? Yeah. Special Ed.

Later on, we took all four dogs for a walk, and any prior animosity was forgotten, thanks to a mutual interest in deer poop, dog pee, and one anothers' butts. If only humans could resolve their issues so quickly - this world would be pretty frickin' sweet.

Faux Day 24.

As penance for missing three days of NaBloPoMo, because I knew what was coming and I just didn't feel like writing anything, I am posting three Faux Day Entries that chronicle what I did those three days. Which was basically nap and eat turkey and cheddar sandwiches. But rules are rules, man. Here we go.

Faux Day 24

Today pretty much went the same route as yesterday, except I decided to drag my ass to my friend's house for a Thanksgiving Leftovers Dinner. Too bad I've been eating ONLY Thanksgiving leftovers for breakfast, lunch and dinner the past two days; I probably would have been alot more interested in going to the party. But alas, for breakfast today I ate cold stuffing, that was clumped together and skewered with a fork. Like a stuffing popsicle.

So I didn't partake of the meal at my friend's house at all, but went for the company, and to catch up with my college friends while some of them were in town from school. I also worked the entire time on the matching dog sweaters I'm making for Mojo and Moxie. Ridiculously lame, I know, but come on a walk with my dogs and me in the winter, sometime. When we're halfway down the block and both dogs are yanking your arms backwards to go BACK THE WAY WE CAME, FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, then you'll see why I like me some warm dog sweaters.

Two guys at the party scoffed at me because I was:

A) Knitting at a party, and
B) Knitting dog sweaters.

As I said above, I understand that both A and B are pretty lame. But I already knew that. I don't need anyone else reiterating what a loser I am.

So I did the most grown-up thing possible: I poked both people, hard, with my knitting needles.

That'll teach those guys to ridicule a hobby that involves sharp(ish) tools.

Faux Day 23.

As penance for missing three days of NaBloPoMo, because I knew what was coming and I just didn't feel like writing anything, I am posting three Faux Day Entries that chronicle what I did those three days. Which was basically nap and eat turkey and cheddar sandwiches. But rules are rules, man. So here we go.

Faux Day 23

Today went a little something like this:

10:30 A.M.: Woke up.

Noon: Laid down for a nap.

2:00 P.M.: Woke up from Nap 1. Ate a sandwich of leftover turkey with cheddar cheese.

2:45 P.M.: Laid down for a nap.

4:30 P.M.: Woke up from Nap 2. Took a long shower.

5:00 P.M.: After showering, laid down for a nap, wrapped in my bathrobe, with a towel on my head.

7:30 P.M.: Woke up from Nap 3 to my phone ringing - Steve asking if I want to go out for dinner. Got dressed, but because I slept for TWO AND A HALF HOURS WITH A TOWEL ON MY HEAD, a hat needed to be worn in the restaurant, throughout dinner.

9:00 P.M.: Got back from dinner, got into my pajamas, and probably fell asleep around 10.

Apparently, holiday vacations for me mean resorting to the same sleeping schedule I had when I was a newborn.

Day 22.

Sweet, only 45 minutes late on this entry.

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone! I hope yours was fantastic. Mine was lovely, more lovely than I thought it would be. Extended family that I haven't seen in a while, a ridiculously cute nephew to pal around with, and then when I got home I had these two greeting me at the door:



There's so much to be thankful for. So much that I'm going to go to sleep all warm and fuzzy, and try to ignore the fact that my fat roll has busted out from between the bottom of my camisole and the top of my underpants.

Day 21.

It's the day before Thanksgiving, and because I'm pretty sure I'll be too comatose from my sweet potato casserole, which should really be called Diabetic Nightmare: Variations on a Sugar Theme (it uses white AND brown), I'll probably post my Day 22 entry late. So I want to take this moment to say this:

Thanksgiving is all about giving thanks for those around you that you know and love, I want to say I love you, Internet. Have a good Thanksgiving. Forget the calories and dive in. Pour a little salt on your helping of turkey, and put your rings in your pocket, because, you know, all of that yummy sodium is going to lead to the dreaded sausage fingers. But who cares? It's Thanksgiving!

****

I also want to take this time to share with you a recent story from my own family, a story which is just one of the many reasons why I'll be in a jolly mood heading to my parents' house tomorrow:

My dad emailed me this story today:
The other night, he had come out of the bathroom and had just settled in to his La-Z-Boy, when my mom came into the room, sniffing incredulously, and asked:

"Did you just go to the bathroom? Or should I be looking around for a dog mess?"

Family! Love 'em.

Day 20.

So I came home from work this evening to this:



That's Moxie, admiring the Moxie-sized hole she made in the baby gate. FYI, she's supposed to be on the other side of this baby gate.

****

It's T-minus 1.2 days until Thanksgiving. I have a sweet potato casserole I need to make. I have zero ingredients bought for this task. I have a sinus infection. My new dog is bat-shit insane, and does things like eat through plastic. I'm taking this Levoquin antibiotic and hey, guess what? I feel like I'm typing this in zero gravity.

Awesome! Happy Holidays!

Day 19.

Fuck. Missed Day Nineteen. I won't make any more excuses for myself.......


EXCEPT:

Last night was spent in my hometown, with my doctor, who was giving the ol' lungs a listening, to find out why I've been coughing for three weeks. Three weeks. Srsly, it was getting ridiculous. During one of my disgusting, raspy, and loud coughing bouts (at Alyssa's wedding, after I'd held it in for the 45-minute ceremony), my friend's boyfriend actually leaned over to her and whispered, in all seriousness: "Is Emily going to die?"

Well guess what, Kevin? I'm not going to die! I have a sinus infection. Awesome. At least I feel vindicated for sitting on my ass knitting dog sweaters and whining to Steve that I "just can't possibly work out."

Someone pass me my needles!

Day 18.

Whew, made it just in time. Twenty-two minutes left of Day Eighteen. This NaBloPoMo is pretty grueling. I feel like I'm treating it like I treated high school and college: doing everything half-ass, at the last minute. I seemed to make it through both, though, so my mediocrity must be doing something right.

****

Today was pretty lazy, which is exactly what the new dog needed. I got a little stir crazy, so around one I went out to run some errands, and apparently there was much crying and scratching at the door, followed by an intense moping session:


Sheesh. I was only gone for like an hour. It's just going to take Moxie time to adjust to having her world all shaken up, and I think Mojo can sense her worry, so gets worried himself because he doesn't know what the flip the problem is. But it's cool, it's only the second day. I'd say we're doing pretty swell, all things considered. Meeting people is sort of a pain though. The neighbor downstairs met her, and Moxie sort of tried to bite her hand off. So, umm, we're going to continue going to obedience classes.

We had our friend Pat over for dinner, though, and once we got beyond the first few minutes (and by bribing with some treats), she seemed ok. Later on, we left to go see Pat's band, and there was a bit of crumbling as we left, and intense happiness when we got home. I'm sure a work week will make it a little better. I think she's doing really well, though, especially for a dog that spent the first two-and-a-half years of her life crated up and forgotten.

****

Ok, I have to go to bed. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow, because hey! Guess what? Still sick. Three weeks now, for chrissakes! My mom was fussing and fretting over me when I was at home, and I felt so guilty for making her worry like that. So I'm partly going to the doctor for her. Also, I just want to make double-sure that I don't have the killer cold-virus variant. Not like that has me up at night worrying or anything.

!!!!

Day 17.

Gah! Late to the Day Seventeen draw, too. I'm sorry. I was too engrossed in the battle for Middle Earth.

Today we went and picked up Moxie, our 8-pound piebald dachshund. We went to meet up with the organization that we adopted her from, Midwest Dachshund Rescue, at Jim Morgan's Chicago Canine Academy. Damn, that man is amazing with dogs. Moxie shows aggression to people she first meets, and did that to Jim, and he swept her up, held her by the scruff of the neck, and used her as an example of how one way to establish that you are Boss is by holding smaller dogs like their mothers would. Damn. OF COURSE!

Anyways, we've been settling in. We met the cat:

(The open tumor sores are a little too enticing for Moxie to lick, so we're going to have to watch her around Babe.)

And after an evening of all hanging out, the kids passed out from all the excitement of the day:

Yes, I have a dachshund throw pillow. It was a gift, ok?

Moj, my (now seems very) big boy, wins for most precious Caught-Mid-Sleep-Shot:


We'll see how this all goes. Right now, it seems fine, but that could just be the newness of it all. Keep your fingers crossed.

Belated Day 16.

Gah! I missed Day Sixteen! But it wasn't my fault, sort of: I had a wedding far away at 3:30 in the afternoon, and I crapped out mid-way home and stayed at my parents' house. Sometimes you just need to wake up to fresh pancakes and coffee, you know, and Steve hasn't been picking up any spatulas. So I'm really grateful for me Ma.

The wedding was gorgeous. That probably had a lot to do with the fact that Alyssa and her new husband, Paul, are ridiculously gorgeous. Paul is dreamy and English and oh, did I tell you that he's a professional soccer player for a teeny-tiny place off the coast of Iceland called the Faroe Islands? Because he totally is.

My favorite photo from the night:



That's Alyssa right there, listening to her dad tell her how proud he is of her. It was sweet.

****

More to come for the day that it actually is, because today was a big one. But right now, I need to go pop in my extended version of "The Lord Of The Rings" and get some knitting done. I like to knit to LOTR, because I know that, theoretically, I have 11+ hours to finish my knitting project. Not that I've ever watched them in a row or anything*.





*Total lie.

Day 15.

Day Fifteen is pretty much as dull as Day Fourteen, albeit without the complete SNAFU in the middle.

So all I have for you is this. Quite possibly the best commercial in the world, and one more reason why most nights I snuggle up close to my DS Lite:

"Aunty"

Day 14.

It's 11:42 on Day Fourteen, and, well, Day Fourteen can just take itself right on out of here. Today was the worst. It wasn't going un-well, really, until around 12:45 p.m., when I came home at lunch to walk the dogs, sat on the bottom step in the hallway to wrestle each dog into their harnesses, and walked out the door.

Without my keys. They stayed on the bottom step.

I was locked out of my house, sitting on the step with my companions, in the dreary cold. We stayed this way for an hour, until Steve, my Knight in Shining Armor, came to rescue me. With his spare set of keys.

Is this karma for taking the occasional snooze in the file room? Because that would be a shame. I really need those power naps.

Day 13.

I would write more, but that would keep me from Disc Two of Wonderfalls.

Sharyn, I do like it. But come on, how could I not like a show that predominantly features a Mold-A-Rama?

Rawr:

Day 12 - Part II.

Pro: I hacked my way through an hour of cardio on the cross trainer at the gym, while watching Heroes. Several people came to work out at the trainers next to mine, and quickly left after one or two of my incredibly loud, incredibly disgusting-sounding coughs. People, it's just a cold. At least, I'm pretty sure it's just a cold.

Con: Instead of a conventional lunch, today I had an assortment of leftover Halloween candy. Hey, I went to the gym with a cold, ok. Please pass the Charleston Chew.

Day 12 - Part I.

I've decided that this cold and I are OVER. It is time for me and Sickness to go our separate ways, and no, Cold, you can't still call me. I'm changing numbers. We're done.

So I'm sitting here at work, drinking 1667% of my daily value of Vitamin C, and tonight I'm going to probably go and work out, and business will carry on as usual, cold be damned. So take that, cold.

****

So everyone keeps on asking me about getting the new dog, if I'm excited, etc., etc. I guess I don't sound as excited as I am. This could be because this cold is giving me a Marlene Dietrich voice (which I'll actually be sort of sad to see go), but it's also because there's alot to do between now and Puppy Handover Time. I need to find out what she's bringing with her, so I know what I need to get. I need to bring out the baby gate so she'll be in the kitchen while Moj is in the other part of the apartment during the day. We need to actually PUT A DOORKNOB on the door going to the second bedroom (off the kitchen) so that she can't get into that room, with it's precariously-stacked boxes of Crap We Don't Need And Should Probably Go Through At Some Point, But, You Know, Who Has Time For That.

Then there's the initial getting-to-know-you period. I know that we just need to take it one day at a time, and that most likely everything will work out as it should, but I'm just sort of nervous, you know? Also, I'm a pushover, and Mojo is a spoiled brat, so I'm worried that everything will go to Hell in a Handbasket and I'll be powerless to make things right. Does everyone have these thoughts, or is it just me?

If you have any words of wisdom on smoothly bringing a second dog into a one-dog situation, please send them my way.

Day 11.

Oh, Internet. I didn't want to jinx it earlier, but we are signing the papers on Saturday, so I guess it's a done deal.

We're adopting. Umm...not a child. Another dog.



She's a little, 8-pound piebald dachshund (I guess piebald is the name for that type of coloring). I'm not saying her name yet, because we might change it. She has a little bit of problems with initial interactions with people, but she seemed to like us, and even nudged Moj a couple of times to get him to play with her. I'm nervous for Moj, because he's my Little Man/Best Dog/Best Log. He's pretty good with other dogs, even incredibly excited puppies, but I'm worried about how he'll be once he realizes that this one is here to stay. He'll probably feel sort of how my sister did when I came along. Let's just hope Mojo doesn't spray this little girl in the eyes with Windex like my sister did.*

*True story. But I came out alright, albeit with poor eyesight, and now my sister and I are the best of friends.

****

For their last day in Chicago, Steve and I met up with his cousin and we all went to the Lincoln Park Zoo. It was great. All the animals were out and about, doing very token animal-ish things. Like this:



Come on, how many times does the lion climb to the highest point in his enclosure and roar??

Umm, I'm not going to lie and say that I didn't mention going to the zoo for my own
personal benefit. I am so transparent.

****

Do any of you fine folks have any advice for selling stuff on eBay? I've never sold, and I want to sell back the purse I shouldn't have bought, but I'm a little nervous. Give me some tips!

Day 10.

I failed to mention in my faux Day 9 entry that I have a new crush.

In his most recent movie (which you really need to go and see), he is absolutely terrifying, and his creepy haircut doesn't help:



But in real life, Javier Bardem is a total Hottie McHottington:



RAWR. Let's just say, I had some sweet dreams last night.

****

This afternoon we took Steve's cousin, his fiance and some of her friends to The Garfield Park Conservatory. It was beautiful, as always. And sort of humid, you know. Also, I had to lay the smack down on a groomsman in a wedding party who asked us to move in a really snotty way. To move out of the background of a photo in a public place. I wasn't very nice. But he wasn't very nice, so I guess we ended with a detente of Mean-ness.

Oh, also, Steve pretended to throw me in the pond.



Notice how completely un-phased I am. That's what six years does to you, folks.

Day 9.

Gah! I missed a day! On noes! Now I'm going to have to post twice in one day. Kill me.

I do have an actual excuse, though. Well, not really, but our Friday night was consumed with getting tickets to go see "No Country For Old Men" which was only playing at three theaters in all of Chicago, and when we got there, there were no seats so we all had to split up, and.....anyways, I guess this isn't really an excuse. More of a plea: Go see "No Country For Old Men." It was horrific and amazing and....wow.

****

I did have an entry queued up for yesterday, though. Here it is:

Oh my. I bought a purse on eBay the other day, and unfortunately it is not the purse for me. I think I was blinded by the fact that I see Hayden Harnett bags on Anthropologie's website all the time, and I was blinded by the deal of this one and so I bought it. Not that there was anything wrong with the bag I was carrying. In fact, I absolutely love the bag I'm carrying right now. So anyways, I think I might try to make my first sale ever on eBay. I've never done it before, because even though word on the street is that I have good taste, deep down I have this fear that everyone's lying and I have no taste at all. So then I would make an eBay page, and noone would buy anything.

I never said I was rational.

Day 8.

I'm just going to use Day 8 to announce that there could be, maybe, something very exciting in store for us here at the ranch. Details to come in the next few days.

Oh, and here are Steve's, Pat's and my shoes.

Day 7.

Sad Realization Made At Laundromat While Pulling Clothes From The Dryer Tonight:

I will never get picked up by a guy at a laundromat, like you sometimes see in commercials, or, for that matter, even get scoped out, due to my overwhelming amount of Granny Panties.

****

Today's photo is from my noon walk with Moj and the downstairs puppies. Mojo is trying to keep BamBam (the little black puppy) from eating his face off. Bothering Mojo seems to be BamBam's favorite game, because apparently making a dog growl at you on purpose is JUST!! SO!! MUCH! FUN!!*



(*I bet puppies probably do all of their thinking in caps, with lots of exclamation points. Then, once they've grown into adult dogs, it's just! Exclamation! Points!)

****

I have to admit, I think I watched an episode of Ken Burns' "The War" tonight just so I could have a good cry. A good cry, from watching old men (that remind me of my two grandfathers, who've both been gone awhile) remember their experiences as boys, waging a war. A war that actually meant something, that actually had a purpose.

It seems so inconceivable, nowadays.

Day 6.

Still sick. I think things are loosening up? In the lung area or something? Who the hell knows. I'm going to take some NyQuil and pass out. What is this, 2000? Am I in college again?

All I have for Day 6 is this shot Kieran took of my dog, in costume at the Halloween party, straight-up chillin' with a big rubber rat.



Day 6 kicked my ass.

Day 5.

Is it Day 5 already? Or, more fittingly: is it only Day 5?

Of note:

1. I am still sick. I am also tired of people saying that I'm not sick, thankyouverymuch. Just because my cold-ish symptoms and cough don't seem to show up until, oh, about six in the evening, doesn't mean they're not there. The only person who validated my condition was, hilariously, the resident homeless guy, when I was walking the dog/hacking my way down the block this evening.

"Gosh, you don't sound so good, hon."

Yes! YES, EXACTLY.

2. In a ridiculous lapse of judgment, I set my Peapod delivery for tomorrow morning, between 6 and 8 a.m., because I didn't want to go to the store today, and they don't offer evening deliveries on Tuesdays. Most days, I'm not even awake before eight in the morning, and can barely talk until at least nine-fifteen. We'll have to see how this goes.

3. Heroes is confusing the hell out of me. Too many plot lines! A chick whose eyes bleed! I can't keep it all straight. After tonight's episode, my brain actually hurt. So I decided I'd unwind with the simplicity that is The Hills, because come on, a chimp could keep up with the plot lines of that series. But the feed from mtv.com doesn't seem to be working, and I sort of want to die.

4. The only highlight of my Monday were these:



They're Borns (I don't know how to make the thing in the "O"). A woman at work gave them to me, because she had bought them for herself, but didn't like the wide fronts. She commented one day that I seem to wear alot of gnome-like shoes, and thought that these would be perfect for me. And they are.

Day 4.

Man, I didn't even make it to the inflatable doll stage of our Girls' Night Out last night. I hung in there for a good three hours, but then a combination of my cold and these shoes deciding to cut the circulation off of my feet ended up doing me in. And when I stepped outside of the situation I was in - while a group of particularly sleazy older men at the shitty Frat-Boy bar we were at ground (do you call it "grinded" in this situation?) their bodies against my friends and me - I realized that really, I am more content being at home, playing a fierce game of Dr. Mario with my Main Squeeze.

This is why when my friends and I play the "What Little Woman Would We Be" game (I'm not kidding, we've had this discussion at least 10 times), I still maintain that I'm mostly like Beth. Minus the extreme shyness, extreme kindness, bout with scarlet fever, and - I hope - untimely death.

****

Today's photo is the bride-to-be that we were toasting last night, looking resplendent in her tiara (which several men at one gay bar we were at kept on PLEADING with her to give to them), taking her first shot of the night with her special shot glass.


Memories!

****

Tomorrow will be Monday, folks. I am just warning you now that tomorrow's entry will most likely be about work, or the gym, or grocery shopp.....zzzzzzz. If you choose to ignore me tomorrow, I totally understand where you're coming from.

Day 3.

Hey folks, I can't talk for long because I'm off to a bachelorette party. I'm really excited about going. But that might just be because we plan on handcuffing an inflatable, genetically correct male doll to my friend Alyssa, and then throwing back a few while we play a game of ring toss (rings included with the doll).

****

Today's photo is a link to a photo, because everyone knows that the most fun part about photos from the What's In Your Bag Group are the notes that explain what each item is. I felt compelled to do my own WIYB today, because I spent a good hour or so in a sex shoppe (I feel like I need to add an extra "p" and an "e" to sex shop, you know, to make it classier), and ended up with a penis shot glass in my purse. When else will something like that be in my purse?

But it's sort of boring with no photo in this entry at all, so here's one of my friend Lauren, who turned 27 two days ago:


Happy Birthday, Lauren!

This is from our trip to our alma mater last winter. We made a side trip to Amishland in Tuscola, because come on, it's AMISHLAND.

The best part about this photo is that when I showed this photo to Lauren one night over drinks, she said, "Damn, I should have brought that corncob pipe to the bar tonight." Lauren is awesome.

Which is why I have to go handcuff an inflatable, well-hung doll to a friend of mine with Lauren tonight. Ta ta!

Day 2.

Oh my gosh, Day 2. I'm already tired of this. Just kidding, I'm not really, but I think what might be the most depressing thing about this whole NaBloPoMo thing is that it's really going to bring it on home how boring my day-to-day life is. I'm 26 going on 70, I swear. I apologize in advance for submitting you guys to this, Internet.

I bet around November 15th everyone's entries are going to take a drastic turn down Lame Ave., after a pitstop at the Yawn Boutique.

****

Happy Blog Birthday to a certain self-proclaimed Crabby McCrabbingtons. Her blog turned 3 today. Such commitment! I tip my Blog Hat to you, Ms. Emily. Awesome name, btw.

****

Hey, Flickrers, did you know that November is NaBloShoeMo, too? Maybe not officially, but I'm glad these ladies decided it was. I love shoes. I have more than 30 pairs. I want to show them to the world.

Apparently I also want to be in debt for the rest of my life, because all this group is doing is making me want more shoes. But whatever! I love the group anyways!

I am a little embarrassed that my first two contributions to the group have been recycled photos from my own little Flickr corner of shoe worship. But I can't seem to find the charger to the rechargeable batteries for my camera. I'm sure I'll find it during my weekly OhMyGodIAmSoImmatureAndLazyThatICan'tKeepACleanHomeIWillNeverMakeItInLife freakout, which is scheduled for around noon-ish tomorrow. But here are some gems from the Shoe Archive: my Birkenstocks. Complete with an unfortunate spot from some ice cream I dropped on the left shoe, and some f'n crazy knee socks my boss brought back for me from a trip to Spain. Enjoy.

Day 1.

Well, here we go. The first day of NaBloPoMo. We'll see how long I stick to this. Six years ago, I would have been alot more pessimistic, but hey! I've kept a reasonably-healthy relationship for the past six years! And I've only tried to break it off about ten times! I can do this! Come at me, NaBloPoMo!

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I have a cold. Up until last night it was just in my nose and sinus-area, but last night it creeped into my chest. I have to say that I feel some vindication, now that I have this raspy cough, because anyone close to me will tell you that I tend to Cry Wolf about being sick. Umm, alot. I chalk this up to having Fantastic Health Genes, that fight off most sicknesses by just making me feel a little run down for a few days. Steve chalks this up to my Crazy. However, even he can't deny that I'm sick, when I hack up a phlegmy wad, and then spit it his way when he beats me at a particularly cutthroat bout of Dr. Mario. See? Vindication!

This cold, I've found, is one of those that makes everything smell Not Like What It Should. For instance, I've been smelling fried dough alot. I don't think that I've been in many places where actual fried dough would be located, though. Also, I can't say that I mind my world smelling like fried dough, either. Like yesterday afternoon, when the elevator smelled like fried dough mixed with Clean Boy Smell. Usually the elevator smells like the cheap, overwhelming perfume that seems to be the stink of choice for the pregnant teenagers I usually ride the elevators with. So this change to Fried Dough/Clean Boy Smell was heaven. I rode the elevator up a few extra floors, just to bask in it. If there really is a man in the hospital who smells like that......whoa.

How do I explain to Steve that I would like him to always smell like he just took a shower....in a shower that was conveniently located in a Dunkin' Donuts? Hmm.

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I'm going to post a photo a day, too. It's November, it's gloomy, we have to inspire ourselves in several different ways.

However, because of the afore-mentioned cold, I've been going home at lunch to sleep, so I don't have a photo that I took today to share. But I do have this one of my Man and me forcing our Dog to wear Crap He Hates from a couple of days ago. Enjoy.