Wednesday, January 28, 2009


I forgot to mention...if you "comment" with your email, I will "reject" it so it doesn't get published.

Tuesday, January 27, 2009


please leave me your email, unless you are positive I already know it, if you want to keep reading.
i have to set my blog to private as soon as possible, so by the end of this week it will be un-readable unless I have invited you (at least according to what I understand from blogger).
if you are by chance not on my "followers" list, please let me know who you are by giving a link to your blog, or telling me a little about yourself...just trying to make sure you are not anyone that I don't want to invite (trust me...if you were, you would know. but still).

thanks for understanding! it will make me feel a LOT better...

Monday, January 26, 2009


With all the drama going on in my world, my job has already become a place of solace. I talk to people about their (and my) spoiled pets all day long, pet and play with dogs, do some ad design, and a ton of other things, all enjoyable.
The other day I created a window display.
(I would love to include a photo but due to the drama mentioned above, details about my place of work must be kept secret.)
I was so excited that my creation will be seen by everyone that walks by! Remember...I have felt in the past that I was underused at jobs, overqualified for the things I have some real responsibility is very, very exciting!
Anyway. I had to dress dog mannequins as part of my display. They are like stuffed animals, but not floppy, with wire in the legs and tail to pose them. They come in XS, S, M, L, and XL to fit different sizes of dog clothes. They have no features, like the human mannequins with a head but no face; they have nondescript ears, no noses, no eyes, no mouth, no toenails, nothing. It's weird but in some way they are kind of cute.
I caught myself talking to them under my breath (I do work alone for the most part so it's not like anyone was there to hear me.) "Don't you look cute?" I would say after putting a hoodie sweater on one of them. And immediately I would shake my head and roll my eyes at myself.
Then five minutes later, I would catch myself doing it again. Ugh, am I really that stressed out that I am reduced to conversing with eyeless plush dogs?

Oh, well. I am guessing that it would only be a problem if they started talking back.

Thursday, January 22, 2009

Oh and...

Every thing, big or little, that happens, just makes me stronger. Yeah, it is the most overdone cliche in existence, but it's true.

Tomorrow (later today??!) I will prove to myself that I finally have a job that I can still do while suffering from intense stress and anxiety.

Which may not sound like much, but trust me, in the past I have been paralyzed by lesser situations.

I guess this is a good thing. I have to grasp on to it.


Today is, quite possibly, the worst day of my life.
That is saying a lot, since I have nearly died twice in my life, and was assaulted at 14.

I'm not a kid anymore, but today I saw things that nobody should ever, ever have to see, no matter what their age. I'm so done pointing fingers and/or having them pointed at me.

I should know by now that things are never really easy, but it is beyond me why it seems like everything I touch turns to shit. As much as I am trying to stay positive (this from me, the type-a world-class cynic) I find it hard to do anything right now but be very pissed off.

I feel powerless...and that was done completely on purpose.

I apologize for the cryptic blog and the fact that none of it will ever be explained. I just need to bitch at someone and it is 2a.m. and I have nobody to bitch to...just the computer.

Wednesday, January 21, 2009


Target shoes rock.

Seriously. I bought a few pairs of Target pumps a couple of months ago--patent ones--because I wasn't sure I would wear patent shoes often enough since I love my patent bags and didn't want to go overboard.

Monday was my first day at work, and I wanted shoes that looked dressy but wouldn't be a huge loss if a Great Dane decided to pee on my foot. Meaning, not any of the beloved Choos or Loubies. So I grabbed a pair of dark grey patent pumps I had purchased at Target and ran off to work.

Nine hours later, I did not have aching feet. I went to the gym and took off my Target shoes; I did not rip them off my feet and throw them at the wall (like I was tempted to do with a certain $325 pair of Theory platforms on Christmas eve. Four hours at a family function and I thought I was ready to cut off my feet. Humph.) My unusually wide toe box was not squished, and my high arches did not ache.

So, my "special" shoes are reserved for shorter periods of wear, when there is less danger of puppy pee and constant running back and forth. For work, I will stick with Target cheapies. You can't beat $29.99 for a pair of shoes that don't look cheap with your nice pants. Thanks again, Target.

Now, if only the Thakoon for Target line weren't so disappointing...

Tuesday, January 20, 2009


I am just a little post whore today, aren't I?

I feel like telling a random story that makes me laugh all the time.

The first thing I thought when I saw my husband was "Oh my God that adorable guy is smiling at me!! I bet he is very young and very taken." The second thing I thought was that he reminded me of Clay Aiken when he was on American Idol...with the glasses and the spiky hair...when I had a crush on him (shut up!).

See, we met at work. He had been working there for a while, and was behind the front desk when I came down the stairs. He looked up at me and gave me the biggest smile EVER, and right then I developed a huge crush on him. I think every single person besides him knew about that crush the entire time I worked there. That's how those things work.

So yeah. I always tease him about "looking like Clay Aiken." Which he really doesn't...I mean, there are some scary pictures of Clay Aiken out there, which look NOTHING like Ben. Still, that's what I thought of when I first saw him, and it has stuck in my head.

Back in October, when I went to Omaha, there was a picture of Clay Aiken and his baby on the cover of some magazine. To be funny, I bought it. The picture scarily reminded me of Ben.

I mean, it just...looks like him in some way. As in, if Clay Aiken robbed a gas station and they put out a police artist sketch, someone would see Ben and call the cops. Not identical, but damn close.

I kept the magazine. I couldn't help it. Long after everything else got thrown in the recycling bin, I kept Aiken's face. Finally, I handed it to Ben to put on the pile. I went into the other room to do some cleaning, and a few minutes later he came in with the cover torn off and said, "I don't know why I am doing this, but I saved the cover for you since you like it so much." He constantly denies any kind of resemblance, but I tease him anyway.
It ended up in a box of stuff on the bedroom floor (lately the bedroom has become a junk storage room, and even though I try to limit myself to one "random junk" box, I always have several).
Again I was in there cleaning, and Ben walked in. He did some kind of double-take jump back thing, and kind of laughed. And then he said:
"I can't believe I am telling you this but when I walked in, I looked down and thought 'why is there a picture of me with a baby in that box?'"
I nearly died laughing.
So yeah, I used to think Clay Aiken was cute. So what? And yeah, I do think that he and Ben have some physical similarities. And yeah, Ben will give me a lot of shit for posting this.

And here are some silly photos of Ben.
Hey, at least I don't say he looks like Harry Potter, which is what my mom and a couple of my aunts say...

So...whoever he looks like, he is 100% my Benji and I love him immensely.
If you are reading this...I LOVE YOU, BENJI!!!!


I want these.

Actually, I would love to have a house full of puppies at all times, but I can't, for so many reasons. Wow, this is just...heartbreaking.


**This might not be especially stimulating at first, but the end is worth it, I promise!!!**

I found myself at Whole Foods a couple of hours ago.
That isn't unusual; we used to go there almost every single day. I get food there, sure, but also shaving cream, toothpaste, etc.
Lately, though, I have been working out a food budget. You all know the story about my husband; he can and will eat anything, so he is happy that I am no longer forcing organic whole wheat pasta and all-natural soda into his adorable face.
"Working out" a food budget means trying to see how much we spend on what we need (in my world, wheatgrass to make juice is a need, but I can do without expensive dried berries and raw nuts...the things make me sick anyway...anyway, it's all relative) each week and figuring from there. I way overshot my gas budget, I guess preparing for the worst in terms of $5 per gallon gas. Really, though, when I get into my routine of yoga, work, gym, I will drive a total of something stupid like 400 miles a month if I don't go a bunch of extra places (where will I go? Shopping??!? Um, no...) and don't waste gas. So I guess we have a little wiggle room for food.
Most people balk at the amount of money we spend on groceries. However, most people don't seem to account for the soda they buy on their way to work, the lunches out, the delivery for dinner, the free things they eat at work or wherever (I don't eat fast food, can't eat food even if it is offered at work unless for some odd reason they have something I can actually eat, and I don't eat at restaurants except the occasional sushi, and that is usually when someone wants to take us out for a birthday or whatever.) So yeah. For a while, we didn't make a food budget, because we didn't need one. We just bought what we wanted, and that was that.
Now, we do need one.
So I set us up for a whopping $360 a month.


Never in a million years. It takes me $400 just to feed my little self with things that don't make me sick or cause some reaction. So I am trying to keep us at $500 a month. Ben gets free food at work. We like Ben getting free food. Free food is good. (And if you want to tell me about my "ridiculous" food budget, add every last Starbucks, fast food, restaurant, and bar receipt to your grocery receipts for a week. If it is really under $125 a week, you are lucky, and I can imagine you don't have any dietary restrictions at all.)

Most people, if you have read this blog at all, know that I try to stick to a raw foods diet. This is mainly because I can't eat anything from a package, because I can't eat soy, wheat, colorings, MSG, many spices, and a whole bunch of other things. (Well, I can, if I want to become ill enough to miss 2-3 days of work and working out, and/or see the doctor.) However, it is very expensive to eat raw (I won't even start to think of how much!) and that is a problem. So, I am making do with a diet that is about 60% raw and eating lentils, plain potatoes, and/or rice for dinner. (These are the only two things that don't disagree with me right now. I have tried oatmeal, oat bran, brown rice pasta, quinoa, teff, handmade granola, soy and wheat free vegan burgers, wheat free bread, etc, etc, etc...and my body liked NONE of them. The burgers were good, but all the onions and garlic and stuff made me sick. Damn.)
Some day I would LOVE to replace my cooked food choices with inexpensive raw foods (so many people eat 100% raw for pretty much free--if you live in the right area, you can basically forage and have all the fresh fruit you want. This makes me want to give up my mountain dream and move to Bali.) Bananas, apples, a whole pineapple for dinner, a bag of grapefruit. I have done this before, with a lot of success, but one, I do eat totally organic now (to me the organic part is more important than 100% raw right now, so if the choice is organic rice or conventional apples, you bet I'm going to eat the rice) and two, my TMJ and teeth are so bad that I cannot chew most things. Yeah. That's the bigger reason why I eat smoothies, mashed up Organic Food Bars, and baked potatoes and lentils. I can't chew a damn apple. I can try, and end up swallowing huge chunks of food that my body cannot handle. All the teeth on the left side of my mouth don't meet, and therefore cannot grind...every tooth is either broken or chipped...and I had a big one extracted last May, so I have a big hole. Thanks to TMJ. God, I sound like your 95-year-old grandmother, don't I?

So yeah, there is my stupid, pathetic food story. Let's hope I can make our new budget work. (Ben gets excited to think of a future filled with dinners consisting entirely of instant mashed potatoes and cheap macaroni and cheese. No, really, he has eaten that for dinner every single night for the past month. Even when I have offered to make mashed potatoes from scratch, or bake a fish filet I found in the back of the freezer. Nope. I call it "ghetto pie" and he loves it. I must say, though, that it is a step up from his obsession in 2007--when we first started dating, it was instant mashed potatoes squashed together with a cheap chicken pot pie. I kid you not.)

Unfortunately, I was unable to resist the siren song of Yoga Journal at the Whole Foods checkout. It has been a relatively long time since I have purchased a magazine. I used to buy about 20 a month (no, really) so this is a huge improvement. I saw it and had to have it. First of all, I will be returning to Bikram yoga at the start of February (and I am not ashamed to say it: my momma is paying for it for a while, to help us out...she knows how much it has helped me) and I want to get back in to doing yoga every day. I liked myself a lot better when I did.
Second of all, I saw the Lululemon ad on the back cover before I even saw the front cover, and just this one ad makes it $4.99 well spent:

That's just...the greatest thing ever. It actually made me get teary-eyed. I love it!!!


See what happens when you let your laundry pile up for weeks?

Wait. If it grows a cute puppy, I am never washing anything again!!!


but it's really funny:


In all seriousness, today is a huge day.

And hundreds of years from now, kids will have interesting American History textbooks, unlike the 1776 marathons of my high school days.

Sunday, January 18, 2009


Wish List:
1. A new French press
2. a cheap hairstylist (well. not cheap, as in "dresses for work as if she is the star of the Moulin Rouge and goes home with scary men who have scary facial hair," but cheap as in, "does not cost $100 every 4 weeks just to make me look not-Goth and not-creepy)
3. someone to fix my stupid camera

Disaster. Pure disaster. On the day before I start my new job, I break my freaking French press, making it impossible for me to make my beloved organic espresso. Since I swore off stevia-sweetened energy drinks (natural, but VERY EXPENSIVE) and Starbucks ( not organic, water not distilled but municipal water, various unfounded rumors about business practices, 3-day stint as barista FAILED) one thing is certain: I NEED MY FRENCH PRESS!!

Okay, maybe I will hit a coffee shop occasionally, or grab a nice frosty GURU energy drink. But for my daily caffeine fix, I need that French press.

Seriously. I have a nice fancy Thermos (shut up, it is very pink and chic...maybe impossible to drink out of, but pink and chic. Or I could just go steal a bunch of paper cups from the coffeehouse down the street. I have experimented. You can use one about 8 times before it starts to fall apart. Coffee from a paper cup just tastes better. And you can recycle it, too!) and some nice organic espresso, but no more French press.

I guess I could haul my butt to Target to find one. Because even though I'm broke, I know myself, and all week at work, I'll be right down the street from a few coffee places, and $3 x 4 days is $12, which is all the stupid little thing would, I would be drinking the BAD COFFEE.
Ugh. Just UGH.

And hair disaster. As much as I would LOVE to darken my hair and just be done with it, I can't. Why? Because I look scary with dark hair. Seriously scary. Just dead. Or not there. Or like I have laser eyes. I want to go back to being Kate-Hudson-totally-blonde. (Er. I guess I think our coloring is similar. And I like her shade of blonde. When mine was that color, I looked best. At least I thought so. Yeah.) Which I can actually do myself for the bargain price of about $18, or less than $5 a week, which would work, especially when I get a French press, because really even just 2 coffees a week would cost more than $5 a week! However. Right now I still have a lot of residual dark brown-ness from my last stint of "let's see if dark hair looks good now even though it hasn't the last 4587 times I have tried it!" And I might be good, but I am not good enough to ensure an even blonding with minimum drama, when my hair has about 4 shades of brown and 3 of red and some blonde streaks in there somewhere. And when it is this long. AND NO I AM NOT CUTTING IT!!! Someone bleach me. Please. I feel like I look about 50.

And camera disaster. I don't know why it doesn't work. It just quit. I guess I could dig out the mini video camera that I bought when I told my dad that I NEEDED it because I had 2 puppies. I guess he figured that was as close to grandkids as he would get and forked over the money (not a lot...I ordered it "refurbished" but when it came all it was, was one that had been returned to the store. Nobody had even opened it. Hooray for me!!) Anyway. I think it takes still shots. But I need to take pictures of my growing babies, and I need to take pictures of my work outfits. Not yet. But when I get a free-standing mirror that doesn't stretch my body into ridiculous proportions. But someday.

Hmm. I hate Wal Mart but someone gave me a gift card and I think I can get a free-standing mirror there. Hmm. Wal Mart? Ugly fat mirror? Which is the worse evil? Wal Mart is bad, but I can drive to the one that is slightly less shitty. A fat mirror is probably the worst evil of all. Worse than Wal Mart.

And that's bad.

Saturday, January 17, 2009


Ben worked 2nd shift again, for the second night in a row.

A little bit of background:
I lived alone for the best part of 10 years (one roommate for 4.5 months, a few short-term semi-serious boyfriends here and there, but that's it) before my husband moved in with me a few months before we got married. I liked living alone. I could listen to whatever I wanted to, have silence when I wanted it, leave my purse hanging on the door with nobody to complain about it, take bubble baths every night, walk around in nothing but a thong and an Organic Living baseball cap, and decorate with elements that would be best described as fluffy, filmy, pink, etc (I never really did that. I stuck with basic decor. I did wear the outfit mentioned, once. With Uggs. But I digress.)
For a short while, I even thought that I missed living alone. Waking up at 4a.m. and going to bed by 9p.m. with nobody to mess up my schedule. Organizing all my fruit and caffeinated beverages without having to share refrigerator space. Listening to The Streets and trying to rap in a British accent. Whatever.
And now. I have two puppies and I am still feeling lonely.
I had every intention to come home and make dinner and watch Breakfast at Tiffany's.

I guess I will go ahead and admit that I am making lentils and watching John Tucker Must Die.

Friday, January 16, 2009


Yeah, it says "THE SQUEAK" now, for several reasons...mainly, "THE SCOOP" referred to a Pilates term and that little era of my life is (thankfully) over, and because I'm "squeaking" by (hahahahaha, get it?) and a few other reasons not really worth mentioning, but come on, my blog names always suck and I constantly have to change them. So, yeah.

I am in the middle of cleaning the entire apartment, since I have decided we are most likely going to be staying here anyway. I refuse to start a new job with a messy home where I am unable to find my shoes, my bra, my whatever-I-need when I need it. It has gotten out of hand. I keep selling crap and I still own too much stuff, and at this point I feel like I am cleaning one room by shoving shit into another and then going into the second room and cleaning it by shoving the shit into a third. Oh, crap.

Now...job updates. Ben finished his system training for his new job the other day and started actually working at a different location (his is not open yet) tonight. He just got home and I had to laugh at what he was wearing on his jacket:

(Yeah. Really good job I did blurring the name of his company there.)

I laughed at him for the whole "team member in training!" blue ribbon. Oh, man. But you know, he is proud of it, and I do understand. But it's still funny.

I know, it's mean to laugh, but I think I am still in shock that after too many years of college, too many majors, and too many shitty jobs, I finally got one that I wanted. One where I don't have to wear a name tag or a bright yellow standard-issue men's size large polo with bright embroidery that MUST BE TUCKED IN AT ALL TIMES even though it is 3 feet too long and there is nowhere to put all that fabric. One where the staff is small and I am actually recognized and given real responsibility, beyond making sure that the chips are stacked evenly.

So. More details. Still no names, because I want to start before I start writing about it!
Forgive me if I repeat anything...
I will be working at an upscale pet boutique and wellness center. They have a pet spa and carry Juicy Couture pet clothing and accessories among about a million other things (okay, I exaggerate) but I am so excited...I think we are the only place in this city that carries the JC pet stuff! I am starting part-time but will basically be retail manager in three months if all works out (meaning if I like it and the owner likes me...but I doubt I could dislike it, and she did talk to me long enough for my meter to run out, and she DID hire me, so...). I will probably be writing the newsletter and starting a blog...and of course...I will be working with pets (mostly dogs!) all the time. So yeah. I might be a little excited. If I had to pick one thing I kick ass at, it is retail management, as long as it is boutique-type and not big box (no thanks to wal-mart, target, or walgreens type places). I can't lie. I think I was a pretty sucky Pilates teacher. But who cares? WORKING WITH DOGS!!! HAPPY DOGS WHO ARE SHOPPING!!!!


And now that it is past midnight and my husband is home, I am going to go hang out with him for a while before crashing. Tomorrow is more cleaning and working out, Sunday more of the same, and I start work Monday...I'm scared. My last real job (not Pilates or copy editing done at home) ended in August 2006 when I went back to school. It was Trader Joe's. I hated it. Just working again is exciting but scary. We'll see how it all goes.

Aaaaaand I wanted to take photos of my work outfits, but my stupid camera is broken:(
WHY WHY WHY WHY?????? Totally unfair.


First off, let me say that I am very, very glad that this huge no-shopping era of my life began when spring collections started appearing. If it would have been fall or winter, I would have been sad enough to drink myself into a stupor each and every night, and I really don't ever drink. So, so severely sad.
Obviously, I love fall and winter fashion. Give me black and grey, boots and chunky platform heels, pants pants pants, SWEATERS, scarves, knit hats, COATS, and MORE DARK COLORS. I have been pissed off so far this year that we have had the odd wintry day thrown in among 50 and 60 degree days. THAT IS SUCK WEATHER. I WANT SNOW, I WANT COLD DAYS, I WANT TO WEAR COATS DAMMIT!!!
I think I am the only person (besides my husband, who could give a shit less about fashion but hates hot weather, "hot" meaning 60 degrees and above) who feels this way.

WHY? Why is everyone talking about "the perfect spring wedge" and bright colors and icky cap-sleeve tees and ... blech... SHORTS???!!?!?!?

(Really, if someone took me into Color Me Beautiful, I would growl at the woman if she told me I were a spring or a summer. NO WAY. There is no way. I don't care what my skin and eyes say, I don't like very many brights or pastels.)

Well. Maybe the colors aren't SO bad. But I think that it is really, really difficult to look very stylish when it is 80 degrees outside. Maybe this is why I resort to looking like a Survivor contestant all summer long. I don't know. I just feel so uncomfortable. I hate the heat. I hate the icky baggy sleeveless tops and icky shorts. Ugh. Shorts. The word makes me cringe, unless the words running or yoga are involved.

At least it is easier not to shop when everything out there repulses me. Sure, other people can pull off warm-weather looks, but I prefer to keep it that way. On other people. I try to deny the existence of summer weather as long as possible.

Completely out-there rant, but I keep getting catalogs for spring things and I am hoping I still have a good 3 months of winter left. At least. I really need to be back in the mountains, like yesterday.



No, we didn't find jobs at Google or win the Powerball (although Ben is tempted to buy a ticket...ever since I saw this headline I thought "anything could happen" and told Ben to go right ahead). I'm not talking about money at all, but since the economy sucks and everyone is changing the way they spend, I had to make a little play on words.

I was in Borders earlier (don't worry, I wasn't spending, but I did have to replace my date book, especially since I am actually working now) and the line was, oddly, wrapped around the front of the store. Directly in front of me was a well-dressed couple. I know looks can be deceiving and I hate to make assumptions, but for the sake of my story, I will assume that the man in designer suit and coat and a pinky ring easily 5 times the size of my engagement ring and his coiffed, made-up companion (wife? they both had wedding bands) were still pretty wealthy. (I know, they could have just lost their jobs and found out that their big investment turned out to be a scam, and wearing their best clothes and jewelry helps ease the pain, but again, for the sake of my story...)
As you approach the cash registers, there are shelves and racks of...junk. One of the racks was a full 360 revolving rack of greeting cards for Valentine's day. I am not the biggest fan of cards (so if you never get a holiday card from me, it isn't because I don't like you, it is because I see cards as generic and cheesy and frankly I am too un-creative to make my own even though I wish I could) and I am not a fan of Valentine's day, but I was shocked to hear this exchange:

WIFE grabs a card, reads it, and puts it on top of her pile of books.
HUSBAND: (in a rude tone) what the hell is that?
WIFE: It's for *****.
(I assume ***** is her sister because the card says "for my sister!"
HUSBAND: NO! She will just put it in a drawer. It's probably like ten bucks!
WIFE: It's FOR *****. She will like it. (she looks at the back of the card, feigns putting it away, and then changes her mind, placing it back on top of her pile).
WIFE: (turns over card again.) Oh, 6.99. I guess that is a lot. (puts card back in slot on rack).
HUSBAND: sighs rudely I'm going outside for a cigarette. HURRY UP!

(as if she can make the line go faster)

And at that moment, I realized that I am so very, very wealthy.
Not because my husband can buy me tons of gifts or take me out to fancy places, but because he does things like this:

(The sticker on my car says I *heart* Ben. He wrote in the dirt one morning as he left for work: I *HEART* YOU TOO COCO! ...a nickname. I found it the next day and it made me cry).

And because we are a happy little family:

And because I know that if that had been us at Borders, my husband would have said "Let's make a card; I am so broke this week!" and he has NEVER EVER used a rude tone even close to the one the man in line used with his wife. Not to me...not to anyone else that I have seen. (And we used to work at a hotel together. And used to deal with the same really rude customers. So yeah.)
Seriously...I don't care that the guy said "no" to his wife, but I would NEVER let someone talk to me like that. I guess you had to be there to hear him. Because, UGH! If this were in the past when I did have extra money I would have been tempted to slip her a $10 and said "He never has to know. Buy it." He was just so damn full of himself and had such a sense of entitlement.

Sorry, I will shut up now. But I really do feel really, really lucky.

Even though right now I am sad because Ben's new job has him working nights and it has been a very long time since I have been home alone at night. I know, I am a total baby.

Wednesday, January 14, 2009


This is Gabby. She used to be my Chihuahua. My first Chihuahua. She and my stepdad fell in love with each other when my parents were puppy-sitting (it really is a cute story, but a long one) and now she lives with them. She has also gained about 8 pounds since moving in with them...yikes! (she was 4 pounds before. So 8 is a LOT.)
I bought this little sweater on ebay in an XXS when we very first got Piper. Somehow the people sent me a S instead, and since it was something ridiculous like 4.99, I just gave it to my mom for Gabby. She finally put it on Gabby last night and sent me this ridiculously adorable picture.
Gabby is getting old. I know Chis can live 15-18+ years, but she will be 10 next month and it makes me sad to think of the day that my mom comes home and Gabby is forever asleep. She doesn't like to admit it but that dog is her baby now. And her husband's baby. It's heartbreakingly cute.
I miss her. She still knows who I am and gives me kisses when I come over. I tell her all about how I brought her home and she screamed all night long and she was only as big as my dad's bag of Steak'n'Shake oyster crackers. How she used to sleep next to me, under me, on top of me, when I was lonely out in Shitfield (oops, I mean Springfield). How I ran her to the doggy ER several times because she stuck her tongue in an electrical outlet (advice: use all baby precautions with a dog...even an adult dog) or because she found her way into a box of baking chocolate (super jumping Chihuahua that can also open cabinets with her paw). How I would come home to a living room full of trash after she broke out of the toddler gate and found the trash can.
I miss her. I would steal her back if she liked other dogs (she does not) and I need to start seeing her more often because I have no idea how long she will be around. She is so happy...she still plays, runs (or tries to, the little fatty!), and gets excited to see me. However, I feel like a dog will do all these things even when in pain and I hate that. It makes me so sad. So I hope Gabby's little legs and heart can carry her through many more years, because even though I know a dog's life is shorter than mine, I don't want to have to think about it yet.

Tuesday, January 13, 2009


Okay, I might not have one every day, but I will try to post "Cheap Tips" often.

Let's talk about shampoo. Many people don't give it a second thought--they just toss Suave or whatever into the cart along with the groceries.

I tend to be a shampoo snob. For one thing, my hair really does respond differently to different products. I do color my hair, and keeping it nice is important. Most importantly, though, I am sensitive to EVERYTHING and I like to keep my household paraben-free (er, thyroid issues, long boring explanation, don't ask...but for the record, it's ME, NOT MY HUSBAND who is so picky about these things...oh, anyway...). Finding a shampoo without parabens, soy derivatives, or fragrances I am allergic to (which are not very is all trial and error for me) is near impossible, considering that it also has to work on my hair and not smell like ass (I hate shampoo that smells like the hairspray I used in the 90's).

Wow, that is a difficult list to fulfill when being cheap. Right? NO! Actually, I will continue to buy my favorite brand and not try to find a cheap replacement. How the hell is that a cheap tip, you ask?
Use half as much as usual, and dilute it. Really. A full handful is excessive and can even dry out hair, even if it says it is "moisturizing." I have been experimenting with just how little I can use, and I have found that I was using more than twice as much as I needed. Yikes. Now it doesn't seem so expensive anymore (especially considering that my husband uses so much crap to spike his hair up that he goes through shampoo like it is water, even though he uses the semi-cheap adds up.)

And I still swear that organic virgin coconut oil mixed with one organic egg is the best deep conditioner, and far cheaper. But maybe that's just me.

Enough rambling, I guess this was supposed to be short (a tip, not an essay). Er...tip giving FAIL!!!


I have never really gotten a job I really wanted before. Sure, I have interviewed for a ton of great positions with companies I would love to work for, but I was never offered the ones that I really thought I would love. One time I got a job that I ended up loving, but I walked in there because I needed a job, not because I really wanted to work at that particular place.

Today, that changed. I received a call back from the one place that I really wanted a call from. I can't go into detail yet because I would like to get started before I start writing about my job, but I am beyond excited. Let's just say that I will get to work towards retail management (my work of choice if I really think about it--no desk, no office), it's upscale retail, and I get to work with dogs. Oh, and I am pretty positive that writing and blogging will be a part of my job description as well. Wow. Just wow. In today's market. I had a good feeling, though, and for once I was right!

I like to think of it as good karma...after years of working crap jobs and getting passed up for things I deserved and would excel at...I am now, at nearly 30 years old, finally getting a job that I not only need, but want.

Friday, January 2, 2009


I hate to say it, but I probably won't be around for a while.
There are a lot of things going on right now in my life, and while I love a good vent, I think it is beyond un-glamourous to be a drama queen about drama that involves people other than myself.
I love you all and hope to "see" you very soon!

(Watch me not be able to resist.)