Scratchy McScratcherton

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Usually we call Sadie “Sadie”, “Sadie Pie” or “Sadie Pot Pie” but I think I’m going to call her Scratchy McScratcherton instead.

I woke up after 2 hours of sleep (so, at 1:30 am) and got out of bed after being unable to go back to sleep. I wanted to research some stuff on the internet and of course the dogs could hear me so Sadie…er, Scratchy…starts whining (she is not yet on board with the kenneling thing). So, I (as Mr. Burns on the Simpsons would say) released the hounds and Sadie immediately scratches my right arm and right leg (stupid night shirt) in her excitement for being released (she was prancing, hard to explain). As the dogs and I head back into our living room I notice that the scratch on my arm is deep enough that it drew blood and looks vaguely like I have tried to kill myself by dragging a safety pin across a wrist.


I think Sadie may get to meet the groomers a little early – her coat is clean but she is in desperate need of a nail trim. (Note to self: Ask Gene to take her tomorrow).

And now, I am going to unload on my poor defenseless blog for a moment.

So, AMC’s Best Picture Showcase is taking place over the next two Saturdays and we have tickets for both days. Last year we just had The Dog Lady come over and that worked out fine so that’s what we’re doing this year. But this year we have Sadie and two new kennels with doors that shut differently from the old kennels

::pause while I stop Sadie from eating a chicken nugget, which someone not named Elaine has left on the side table::

Anyway, new dog, new kennels. I guess I just feel like a grade-A jerk for leaving Sadie (and Betty and Scooby) in their kennels all day while we’re out having fun (we so rarely are out of the house or that long). The Dog Lady will visit 2x per day and I know I’ll be concerned about how it goes. I’ll leave her a long note explaining the whole thing (how the kennels open – but it’s not like she’s never seen them, I know). And I think I’ll talk to Gene about letting the dogs bunk with us Saturday night so they get a special treat too.

And finally, I know that Sadie wasn’t scratching to be mean. I know she’s excited to be out of her kennel. There’s a learning curve to owning three dogs, especially because Sadie is taller and larger than Betty and Scooby – we, the humans, aren’t used to having a dog who can swipe stuff off the side table or the bathroom counter. When I say learning curve, I mean ours, not Sadie’s. Maybe we, the humans, need remedial dog training.

Going to try to go back to bed now….

Early days…

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Life with three dogs is interesting!

At one point this morning, Gene was in his office and I was in the living room. Sadie voluntarily got up on the sofa next to me and everything was great. But then Gene came into the room and Sadie made a desperate lunge to get back off the sofa for reasons we can only guess.

(Actually, Sadie is not a Fan of Men – her previous owner, not counting the foster caregivers, was a man and his wife and all appearances suggest that he was mean or perhaps abusive to Sadie).

But! Sadie is a Fan of Me – which is nice. Right now I’m sitting in my recliner and she is curled up right next to the chair. There haven’t been any more episodes of Betty snapping at Sadie, which is a relief, but then again the two girls don’t interact much. I guess it’s all still shaping up. We’ll see how it goes.

Lindsey Lohan Sucks…

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(Subtitled, Read Any Good Books Lately?)


So, I’m reading this book. It says “Lindsey Lohan Sucks” on the side, but inside it’s “Twilight.” I started it when I was sick last week. Last week, I read “Lace II”, “Zoya” and “Mini-Shopaholic.” Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of pages. Granted, I started “Twilight” late in the sickness, but this book is awful. Literally, the best written part of this book is “Lindsey Lohan Sucks”. (Frankly, I didn’t realize that the typical 15 year old girl cared about Lindsey anymore, but whatevs). I own no less than 2 V.C. Andrews series and I vividly remember many of the Sweet Valley High books so it’s not like I don’t have a reference point for “terrible”. I’m less than 200 pages into it but I’m still hoping to muscle through it as I have the rest of the series.

(Let me saw “THANK YOU!” because at least I didn’t pay for any of the “Twilight” books).

(And thanks Stefanie Meyer for proving that it can’t be THAT difficult to get published…).

Which reminds me…

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I had a plan, back in June 2010. I was going to take a picture and post it on my blog on my last day at the old job, when I no longer had to call my old boss Gwen and my beloved friend The Almighty D.

Anyway…back in those crazy days, D (she has a full name! It’s Denise!) left for her FMLA leave about 2 weeks before I left the Old Job for good (ahhh). Neither of us planned it that way (for all that it felt good to torture Gwen) but sometimes things don’t happen in the best way, they just happen like they happen.

So, a Tuesday was D’s last day before her leave and it was the Last Day I’d Ever Work With Denise. (OMG, I’m sad just thinking about it!) I had never, ever taken a picture with her, not in nearly 8 years of working together. But that day, I took the picture. And here it is!

Denise and I, June 2010

(My chin is really not so wide that you could show home movies on it, it’s the angle. Quick, look at Denise’s pretty blue necklace instead!)

One day off deserves another…

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Ugh, I called in sick again today. I could have made it to work if I’d had a decent night’s rest but I woke up every hour on the hour (I know this because we have an alarm clock that projects the time on our ceiling). I had four freaking teaspoons of cough syrup w/ codeine, why did they not knock me the hell out??

So anyway, I called in and left a message on my company’s client service voicemail (I called before the office opened) that I would not be in but to call me if they needed me (they wouldn’t, but it feels good to offer) and then I lay in bed, watching the time tick by, trying to decide if I should call after business hours start to make sure they got my voicemail. I decided “Ehh, I left a voicemail, I did my part” and finally passed out at about 9…and woke up at 10 when my cellphone rang. Guess who didn’t get my voice message? Sigh.

(Here is what I bet happened – 9 am rolled around and no one on my team was taking phone calls – Wednesdays are Mrs. Bossman’s late night so she gets to work late – I find it very telltale that Mrs. Bossman called right when she arrived.)

(Note to self, call Mrs. Bossman’s cellphone next time).

Grumble grumble. Back to work tomorrow.


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So I decided to stay home sick from work today. It was a collaborative effort between Gene, Ladydoctor (Dr. Hottie’s associate – Dr. H is a difficult ticket to get) and least of all me. Literally, until 9:25 this morning I was going to buck up and go to work anyway (like yesterday, like an idiot!). I was all dressed and then I thought, “Oh, to get to go back to bed…”

See, here’s the deal. I love days off work. They feel so decadent. Even the rare time when I leave work at 5:30 instead of 6 or later just feels awesome. (Then again, during Year End, sometimes a long postponed trip to to the restroom feels as great as a week in Hawaii).

But – what about tomorrow? Tomorrow I’m going to wake up and think “Ehh, back to work? Really?” because that is how my brain works. If one day off work is nice, then two days must be even better! Laziness is a Crisco’d slippery slope for me and this is why I try to never give in. Because if it were up to me I would never work and I’d spend my days picking up carryout sushi and watching Netflix’d episodes of TV shows.

(Also: I have cough syrup w/ codeine and it’s not letting me sleep. WTF??)

of course I went to work…

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Like an idiot!

This “Big Payroll Year-End Cold” is just MEAN. And Walgreens not having any orange push pops is VERY MEAN. I stopped there after work for some more Mucinex and they didn’t have any. I totally should have just gone to the grocery store.

Ugh, I’m so ridiculously crabby right now! I wish I’d called in sick to work but my clients need me so I went in – like an idiot! – and spent half the day talking like Harvey Fierstein, which is exactly the voice you want to use when you’re trying to convince the state of California that your employer did, in fact, send the child support funds via ACH, they just neglected to include the relevant case numbers. So California of course sent the money back…somewhere. And now all the baby daddies and baby mamas are pissed because their baby mamas and baby daddies are pissed because they are without support.

And when I wasn’t doing all of that, I was thinking “Why the hell am I here today? I should be at home freebasing antibiotics and codeine and reading Mini-Shopaholic!” And I can’t stay home tomorrow* because tomorrow’s my late night at work.

* Okay, actually I COULD stay home tomorrow. Mrs. Bossman, my awesome boss, already told me I could.


From inside my head…

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(For the record, a number of these “thoughts” have popped up this weekend while I’ve been dozing in bed as I have been sick since, let’s say Friday night)

1) I need $1000 for a purse. Where do I get $1000?

2) I bet that textbooks that were used by students in the former Soviet Union are pretty hilarious now and are full of inaccuracies. I should look for “Soviet Union textbook” on eBay and see if there’s a history book or something. I bet it’s cheap!

3) Ooh, I also bet it’s in Russian. Damn.

4) Maybe “Chinese textbook”? Wait, that’d be in Mandarin.

5) What do they speak in Cuba? Spanish. Damn.

6) Am I going to work on Monday? My lazy ass says no, the rest of me knows I probably should go.