Lowes is trying to kill me

Lowes, that great big box home improvement store, where I spend a third of my weekend and two-thirds of my money, obviously hates me.  And is trying to kill me.  And my relatives.  Which is not very nice of them at all.  Seriously, can’t we talk about this?

In their Creative Ideas magazine, they told me I should hold Thanksgiving OUTSIDE.  See?  The killing part?  You see, in Maine, holding Thanksgiving outside would result in being very cold, wrapped up in many many layers of coats, clothing and scarves, and my relatives?  Would probably beat me amongst the head and shoulders with a frozen turkey leg. 

Why would you do that to me Lowes? 

We are grounded

So Boy 1 and school are like oil and water or cats and dogs or cats and water or cats and other cats.  You know, not so much on good terms as on bad, hateful, I’d like to ignore you terms. 

The deal was for him to keep his grades above failing and I won’t nag him to death cheerfully remind him to do his homework.  Well, that lasted about 5 minutes. 

So, he is grounded, which means his cell phone has gone to that great cell phone hiding place in the sky (aka my underwear drawer), the computer will not acknowledge his presence, and he’s not allowed to hang out with the girlfriend until all grades are back in acceptable places.  If things don’t improve soon, the TV will also turns its back on the boy.

But that boy, he is evil clever.  He has decided he just can’t possibly figure his homework out without my help.  Even though he doesn’t actually have any questions or need any help or really even want me to open my mouth or breathe.  But I must sit there.  Right next to him, not doing anything because doing anything is considered ignoring him and he needs my help.

So, we’re grounded, he and I. 

Please

Lord, Pete, whoever is out there, please let me…

- not ever end up on People of Walmart.

- always be surrounded by libraries.

- learn the difference between funny and snotty.  I get them mixed-up so very often.

- understand a teenage boy’s thought process for even 5 minutes.

- figure out why some mornings I absolutely loathe every piece of clothing I own, and why those mornings are always when I’m already running late.

- find out that heaven is a giant book store that also sells shoes, home goods and salty foods.

- grow up at some point.  I’ve got this older-ish looking body, at some point my maturity level should match, right?

- stop making excuses after spending only a few minutes on the treadmill.  It’s not using too much electricity, I did not twist my ankle and no, that was not one of the boys calling me.  Keep walking/jogging fatass.

- learn that though I love broccoli, I should not eat if I’m going out in public the next day.  Because seriously?  Nobody likes being around a stinky ass.

Stoned

After Dog’s massive seizure the other day, his doctor decided it was time to put him on anti-consultants.  They said it could take a couple of weeks for him to adjust to it, and then they’d see if they needed to adjust the dosage.  He could be lethargic and might lose his appetite.

He’s been a little lethargic, but mainly?  He’s seemed stoned.  He’s clumsy, well, clumsier than normal.  He wobbles a bit when he walks and when he tried to jump up onto my bed last night, he ended up half on, half off and looking around like dude, what happened? 

On one hand, it’s so sad that my poor puppy, the sweetest dog, is going through this.  I’m sure it’s confusing for him and hopefully it’s not painful.  According to the doctor, it’s not.

On the other?  Kinda funny.  I mean, I’m the queen of clumsiness and now Dog is following in my footsteps.  (literally.  he follows too close and doesn’t always stop in time and ends up tripping us both.  Grace.)  He really is meant to be our dog.

Voting day

A little while ago, Maine passed the gay marriage law.  There is now a push to repeal the law and when we vote tomorrow (go vote!) the first issue is about gay marriage.

Now, I respect other people’s opinions.  You don’t have to agree with me, I don’t have to agree with you, it’s not personal.  But the advertisements using scare tactics?  Piss me the fuck off.  Because if your issue can’t sway me using facts, then shut up. 

There have been a TON of ads on telling us how if we allow the gay marriage law to stay, they will teach gay marriage in schools.  And it is very unsubtly implied that they will soon move on to advocating for gay everything, converting children in groups over to the gay way of life.  Soon, entire schools will have nothing but gay children, running around throwing sprinkles at the other boys and girls with spiky haircuts. 

Ads showing parents from other states that have passed gay marriage laws telling how their children *gasp!* asked questions …about gay people!  And sometimes?   Teachers answered their questions!  THE HORROR!!!

Ahem.  So.  If you have a valid reason to disagree with it, be it your religion or personal belief or fact, then show it.  If you have bigoted scare tactics?  Keep your mouth shut. 

Digging in

So.  I have discovered heaven.  Mecca.  Perfection on earth.

Ben and Jerry’s Gingersnap ice cream.  Holy amazingness in a container, it is sooo very good.  So good that I have hidden the container behind the bag of broccoli at the back of the freezer, bottom shelf. 

Happy Halloween!

What I’m going to do today:

Get up, go to the vet’s to get Dog’s medicine (starting anti-seizure meds since his last one was so bad… poor baby), rake approximately 8,236,349,349 leaves, hit the library, groceries, take in the hose for the winter, plant couple of plants friend gave me, attempt to fix the garbage disposal, put storm windows into storm doors, and trick or treat with boys.

 

What I want to do today:

Sit in bed with a couple dozen books.

These are a few of my favorite things

Listening to Dog snoring.

Reading the junk/gossip magazines.

Being able to finish a crossword puzzle.  In pen.

The smell of fresh cut grass.  Especially when it’s cut by someone else.

When my boss says, “Oh, you’re right.”

Judge Judy. 

My new mantra, “grow a pair and deal with it.”

Butterscotch candy.

Bringing home lots of new books from the library.

My electric mattress pad heater thingy which makes my bed warm and toasty.

The perfect pair of high heels.

Fresh baked caramel apple pie.

Thursday is almost friday

Pretty excited about today (not) as I have the ultrasound this afternoon.  And?  Earlier this week, when my boss was out and I stepped into his office to talk to my doctor’s office about my follow-up appointment?  Right as I repeated, somewhat loudly because the receptionist hadn’t heard me the first time, I HAVE MY ULTRASOUND ON THURSDAY, another partner pokes his head into my boss’ office.  Clearly he was expecting my boss and not a woman yelling about her ultrasound.

Yay!  I was reminded several times to be sure I have a full bladder, which I remember well from when I was pregnant.  I remember really well that you have to have a full bladder and then you end up sitting in the waiting room for what seems like HOURS desperately trying to cross your legs but by that time you’re the size of a small house and all you’re actually doing is providing a few minutes of entertainment to the other people in room, watching you grab your leg and attempt to pull it over your other leg but under your ginormous belly. 

So ya’ll keep your fingers crossed that the ultrasound finds nothing funny going on and that I don’t pee my pants.