Tucker's New Sweater

-a word+photo-told story by Sarah E. Thomas

-- -- -- -- --

Once upon a time, there was a small, energetic bundle of fur, excitement, and love.

This little bundle just so happened to be named Tucker.

Sometimes this particular bundle would find himself galavanting about outdoors on days where the weather was a little less than warm. It was on days like this when he ended up calling it quits sooner than he really wanted to, retreating to the door and barking to be let back in.

He loved being outside, but it didn't take much to cool his little short-haired body down.

But one day, while shopping for clothes, Tucker's loving and devoted pet human, Sarah, spotted an absolutely adorable little gray sweater. And it was made just for dogs!

"Mom!" she cried, ecstatic even as she held up the little item proudly. "Wouldn't Tucker just love this?"

Her mom nodded in response, already in line with a few things of her own.

Sarah beamed at the sweater, happy to find that it was indeed in the proper size to fit her little pup. The purchase was made and the sweater was added to her bag of clothes to be carted back to the house.

As soon as Sarah made it home, she had the tags removed and the sweater prepped and ready for wearing. She knelt down to present the gift to Tucker.

Tucker eyed the garment curiously, his wet little nose sniffing as he pondered what this new thing could be. Then, suddenly, the thing was on him. He froze, unsure of what to do next, but then his pet human pulled his legs through and it seemed to settle onto his little body with ease. He took a few practice steps, trying to nibble at the thing's hood with his teeth.

"Look mom!" Sarah exclaimed. "He looks SO CUTE! I have to get the camera!"

Tucker turned in a couple of circles, but as he did so he found himself warming up. The warmer he got, the more accustomed to the sweater he seemed to become.

"Time to take it for a test drive," Sarah said, opening up the door and watching as Tucker high-tailed it outside.

Tucker's first order of business was to make sure that one and all knew of his brand spankin' new sweater.

Kelsi was the first to hear the news, unable to ignore Tucker as he excitedly showed off his new fashion statement.

Ever the good aunt, she feigned a smile and pretended to be more interested than she really was, hoping that in doing so Tucker would be satisfied and distract himself with something else.

From his perch on top of Sarah's car, Teddy offered his two cents, not waiting for anyone to ask his opinion.

Other than those few words of wisdom, Teddy had little to say.

Tucker, now satisfied that he'd made everyone aware of his incredible sweater, busied himself with his usual outside activities; chewing bones, running around, sniffing out big important things.

And all the while he couldn't help but notice just how warm he stayed. What an awesome sweater!

After running around outdoors for a good long while, Tucker finally wore himself out and decided it would be as good a time as any to take a break and head back in for a quick nap on the couch. Not because of the cold, oh no. Just because he had run off all of the energy he'd built up so far.

But this was only the beginning, the first of many trips out into the cool air armed with a very handy little grey sweater. Why with that one little added accessory, Tucker felt that surely he could conquer the world! Starting, of course, with his own backyard!

The Most Wonderful Time of the Year.

Merry Christmas, one and all!

I feel as though I've been neglecting this little blog 'o' mine lately. Sadly, I have had every intention of updating before now. It's been a long month so far, what with the general hustle and bustle that this season brings. Not to mention the one or two bouts of runny-nosed sore-throat constantly coughing sicknesses. Those are just the best, don'tcha know?

But anyway; excuses, excuses, right?

So really, aside from the "being sick" stuff, I've been doing what anybody has been this December -- that is, I've been working, dealing with the kind of impatient and rude customers that only rear their ugly heads at this most joyous and giving time of the year. And I've been doubling up on my vitamins and trying to keep my hands clean of any germs that would make me sick again, or sicker than I have been. 

I've been doing Christmas shopping, and specifically NOT looking at my credit card bills because the good Lord knows that none of my gift buying has done anything but bolster those numbers. But 'tis the season, and all that. And besides, I enjoy buying presents. Credit card payments can hold their little horses, thanks very much, and I'll just make a New Year's Resolution to use my Christmas money to make payments on some of them. Or at least I'll try. Remember, it's allll about motive. The thought being what counts, and all that. *conspiratorial wink*

As I sit here, surrounded by a lovely pile of used Kleenex, a mug of Airborne, and a few empty Reese's wrappers (bought for stuffing stockings, it's not my fault I had some leftovers!) I can't help but feel that despite all of the rushing around and trying to get things done, I'm still nowhere close to finished. Our tree, for instance, has lights but no ornaments. Presents but no tree skirt. And our mantle; garland but no stockings. 

Also, I can't help but notice that the presents currently residing under our tree are all FROM ME. Alarmingly, this means that none of them are FOR ME. Not quite the reassuring display I was hoping for. But, fingers crossed, all will turn out well in the end. I mean, my parents are last-minute shoppers and last-minute wrappers, so...there's still hope. 

And I may not have decorated my Christmas tree, but I DID offer my assistance decorating a friends' tree. And just to prove that I do indeed have "Christmas Spirit", the pictures that follow are proof. And so I offer you;

Exhibit A:

Myself and my partner in crime, proudly displaying our Christmas spirit 

by donning festive hats and dutifully goofing off.

Exhibit B:

The tree we decorated. Plus pretty sweet light-action happening.

Exhibit C:

Outside, putting lights on the bushes proved for some really rad pictures, 

like this one, where oddly enough the pattern made by the lights sort of looks 

like a Christmas tree minus the tree and branches.

It was quite a fun day. Especially considering it happened after a day spent running all over creation to do Christmas shopping. :)

But there it is, anyway. Proof that despite the fact that I'm still rushing around to bring Christmas together, I do indeed have Christmas spirit, cheer, good will t'wards men, etc. etc.

More to come...

Black Friday. A Social Commentary.

Well, already it has come and gone. That dreadful day-after-Thanksgiving wherein people rush out of their homes to go stand in line in the dead of night when those of us more sane (and blessed with not being scheduled at work to open the store) are doing things that normal people do. Like, say, sleep until the rooster crows. At least.

Yes, it came and went just like it always does. Sneaking up on you, tapping you on the shoulder (in the dark and with a gun so as to maximize the fear factor) and then twisting its' lips into a sinister smile while it waits with an open palm to take all of the money you've earned in the year thus far, so you put on a brave little smile and tell yourself it'll be worth it to have all of your Christmas shopping done in one day.

Even though, if you're like me, you're well aware that many of the movies and/or CDs that you're wanting won't come out for another few weeks yet. Just sayin'.

But no matter, Black Friday is over and you can thank your lucky stars that you've survived.

Unfortunately that isn't the case for everybody.

I'm sure I'm not the only person who has an opinion on this, but as this is MY blog and I can say what I want thank you very much, I just have to say that this story both shocks, appalls, saddens, and angers me. And a bunch of other not-so-nice adjectives, as well.

On the off chance that any of you haven't heard the sad news, here's the deal (in a shortened version).

Basically, it's 5 am at a Wal-mart in Valley Stream. There are 2,000+ people waiting outside to get in. If that's not crazy enough, as workers are trying to get the doors unlocked to open to let the crowd in, these people get impatient. They push their way in, literally pushing the glass sliding doors to the ground -"bending their aluminum frames like an accordion," writes Alfonso A. Castillo and Matthew Chayes of newsday.com. An employee, 34 year old Jdimytai Damour, was knocked over and did anybody stop to help him? NO. They continued to rush in. Even first responsers trying to help Damour were jostled. Even the police that arrived were jostled. 

(And people are pointing a finger at Wal-Mart's security measures. As if a mob who can trample someone to death could be stopped by having a few more cops there shouting, "Hey, you! Quit that!") 

Damour was pronounced dead at 6 a.m. And even after he was pronounced dead and the shoppers were told that the store would be closing- because technically what we've got here is a CRIME SCENE now don'cha know?- some shoppers ignored that little memo and continued shopping.

Does this not just speak unfortunate VOLUMES as to the skewed priorities of our society?

"Hey, how was the shopping today, Tim?"

"Oh man, it was great! I mean, we did collectively trample some guy...I think they said he died. But check out this 40" plasma HD TV-DVD player-VHS player-CD player-FM transmitter-super computer-dog groomer-mp3 player-toaster oven I bought! I saved $83.50 AND as soon as a I put a big red bow on it and scoot it up under the Christmas tree, all of Christmas is taken care of, baby! Taken. Care. Of.!"

Does nobody see something fundamentally wrong with this???

Things To Do That I Can't Get Done, My Dog is a Lampshade, and Salsa-ing With Jalepenos.

I have been having one of those weeks where all of the things I need and want to do are simply piling up on me faster than I can handle.

It's not all bad, not really. I'm just behind in a lot of things. For instance, I should have about 3,000 words written for NaNoWriMo by now. But my word count remains a meager 527. What kind of an author am I?? It's just not going as well as usual for me. Writing, I mean. Usually spitting out words isn't a huge feat, but for some reason my characters don't want to cooperate. I don't know the name of my protagonist (and I find it extremely challenging to write a character with no name as I don't feel that I can properly know them when I only refer to them as "BOY" or "GIRL". Or "Insert-Name-Here"). They also don't want to be where I've put them for the opening scene, they don't like the people I've got them mingling with, and they don't care how well I can visualize what I want them to do because they just plain don't want to do it.

If you're reading this and you're not a writer, yes it's perfectly appropriate, if not normal, to think that I am a raving lunatic for talking about characters that I'm supposed to be writing as if they were living, breathing people with minds of their own.

On the other hand, if you're reading this and you're a writer then I know you know what I'm talking about. It's like taking your best friend, who HATES seafood, karaoke, and dress shoes to an All-You-Can-Eat sushi bar and telling them they have to sing Dancing Queen in six inch Choos. And they have to have a good time doing it.

They're just NOT going to.

But I digress. The point is, I'm behind. I also have homework I've been putting off, a second job (that I love but that still takes up precious hours of the day), day

dreams of revamping this blog, and I'd like to keep at least a toe in the social scene. Even that has been difficult to manage as of late.

However, I DO have another few cute pictures of Tucker for ya'll. :)

So without further ado, I'm moving on to that.

My little baby Tucker just had his first brush with surgery this last week. We took him in to get "fixed", and all went very well. Plus he got a Halloween costume out of the whole affair.

Behold!

He was none too happy about this bit, as you can imagine. He came home from the vet and was fine. Perky, just like usual. He didn't seem sore, either. Probably something to do with those

 meds they gave him. He doesn't have to wear the cone all the time, but when he does he looks so pitiful that I can't help but feel bad for even putting it on him to begin with.

It's also made sleeping in bed with me a little more interesting. He was so scared when we first put that cone on that he was just shivering, and he didn't much enjoy walking around with it on, and I couldn't very well add to that trauma by kicking him out of bed. So instead of on or around my feet under the covers, or against my stomach which is apparently also warm and cozy, he slept with his head on my arm and his body under the covers.

It mostly went well, but there were times throughout the night that he'd move and inadvertently wack me in the face, shoulder, arm, etc. with that big plastic cone.

I can't help but feel bad for the little guy. But he hasn't messed with his stitches at all that I can tell, so I suppose it's helping.

I'd meant to purchase a little Halloween costume for him, but of course I put that on the list of things I need to get done, which pretty much ensures that I won't get it done. So...instead we decided that Tucker's little cone would serve as Halloween costume enough. Besides, going as a lamp is just classic, right?

I also spent a decent chunk of tonight pestering Tucker with flash after camera-flash, but I don't think he minded too much because he was avidly chewing on a treat. Plus I got some really good pictures, which as you can surely guess will turn up on here soon enough. :)

I wish I had some good Halloween pictures to post for ya'll, but I am sad to report that my Halloween was spent setting another ad at Kohl's. I didn't even get any candy. I didn't even dress up. It was a bit of a let down, but I didn't have high expectations so at least I won't cry about that tonight.

Besides, I stumbled upon an incredible shirt today so I can't frown too much. It's a long story, so perhaps I'll share the whole thing later, but I do have to post a picture. So that you can understand. Long story short, a friend and I decided we should join forces and write some songs. Our first 'hit single' was going to be called "This Is Why I'm Hot".

Imagine my surprise when, after following mom into a store, I come across this:

Yeah, I about had a cow.

         So that made my day. 

         I hope it made yours, too. 

   Or, you know, at least made you smile.     

Election '08, you're getting on my nerves.

It's amazing how many different opinions there are out there, and how boldly people will shove them at you. Trust me, I know. I've definitely shoved my fair share of opinions at people, and I know I've got more than one soapbox out there, but lately with all of the Campaign '08 business happening it seems like opinions and soapboxes are much more on the forefront.

I know politics gets more heated during election years. Makes perfect sense to me. I'm sure that this kind of thing stands out to me more because this is the first presidential election I'll be able to vote in (by the way, VOTE. You should vote. Really. I think it's an important thing to do.) so I'm more...actively participating, I suppose you'd say.

My close friends already have some idea of how I feel about the candidates and why, so I really see no point in going too far into it. Suffice it to say, I'm a Republican and I would bet you money I'm far more conservative than even I am aware.

Please don't think that 'conservative' has to mean 'close-minded' or 'stuffy' or 'severely opposed to any new idea, thanks very much'. I am, I hope, by no means unwilling or unable to listen to ideas. Every person has the right to mull over issues and decide where they stand. I'm sure there are some issues that I would stand on the liberal side of.

However, one thing I'm not particularly open to is all of the name-calling, insults, and all the rest that happen when one person says "I think this" and the other says, "You're wrong, you're stupid, and this is why." Well, sometimes there's not even a why.

I say, if you want to talk, debate, discuss -- then do it. I am capable (and usually enjoy) talking, debating, and discussing. If you want to announce what you think and remain undisputed (which, by the way, will rarely happen. Especially if you're a horse's behind about it.) then don't say that you want to talk about it. Because it won't be true.

(Back when I STARTED this post, on 9/11/08), I stumbled upon an article about newly announced VP candidate Sarah Palin--yeah, back when she was still "newly announced"-- which I thought was very well written and had a great combination of facts, personal opinions, all of that good stuff, while at the same time remaining polite, well spoken, and informative. I can't remember the link right at this moment, but I'll see if I can turn it up in my history and I'll post it. Basically it was written by a self-proclaimed liberal woman who admittedly disagrees with Palin's political stances but can acknowledge the qualities she does have. I guess you could call that the ultra-Reader's-Digest version, anyway.

Where I had my problem was in the comments. There were comments from all kinds of people, some of them agreeing, some disagreeing. Some disagreeing with venom and hatred. I don't have a problem with stuff like, "I see where you're coming from, but..." or, "I respect your opinion, but I disagree with you because..." That's all well and good. Because it's still a civil "You can think what you want, but since you shared your views so will I" conversation.

And then there are the "This is the stupidest thing I've ever read" comments. And the "You are pathetic" comments. And the "If you vote for Palin then I hope that the ghost of every girl who dies in a back-alley abortion haunts you and your family" comments.

Seriously?

I'm going to call the kettle black here, I realize that, because my initial reaction and opinion on those kind of insult comments aren't much better than the comments themselves. However, I don't think it's completely hypocritical because unlike the "You must be the dumbest person to ever walk the planet since you think that way" comments, I don't think they're garbage because they don't jive with what I think and believe. No, I think they're garbage because they offer no valid points, no reason for disagreeing, no actual substance, thought, wit, or any obvious signs of brain activity went into those statements. They're strictly emotional. They're "I-so-wholeheartedly-disagree-with-you-that-I-can't-even-abide-by-the-concept-of-personal-opinion" statements.

Don't get me wrong - I'm DEFINITELY not trying to say that I never have emotional responses. Or that I never want to say "You're so wrong!" or "Only an idiot would think that!" Let me restress that - I'm really not saying I never have emotional responses. (Those of you who know me, shut up! :-P )

However, I will follow that up with:

I don't honestly expect people to take me seriously
if the only thing I can come up with for rebuttle is
"You stink!"

"You stink!" is not quite the comeback it seems like when you're angry. And if your intention really is to sway me, or convince me that you're right and I'm mistaken, you're really not going to accomplish that by insulting my intelligence. That instantly puts me on the defensive, not only of how I think but also of me personally.

So there's one more soapbox, sort of related to politics, but also one that applies all the time.

I realize that there is no way to say this post is completely unbias because I pretty much mentioned my political stance. BUT bear in mind that this is in no way meant to be a "Go McCain, Screw Obama!" post. Because it's not. I promise, it's really not. I absolutely respect your opinion to think, feel, support, vote for whoever you want. This was merely meant to point out the fact that when you sling insults at someones' opinion and don't even offer a reason, you don't get your point across. You either irritate people (which I suppose could be the intent...but that's another story!) or look like a fool because you come off like you can't find any words to support what you're thinking.

50,000 words in 30 days. Spit in the face of writer's block.

Yep, it's that time of year again. November will be a hectic, glorious symphony of clacking keys, sips from coffee cups, taps of fingertips, and cries of frustration (or joy, depending...).

This will be my second year as a NaNoWriMo participant, and I'm already counting down. In fact, as of today, there are just ten more days left until NaNo '08 kicks off!

If you aren't signed up and want to join in the noveling fun, there's still time! And because I encourage everyone to sign up, yes even those of you who have never written much before but enjoy it, I'm going to include the "What is NaNoWriMo?" blurb right here! So you can check it out without having to take the time to click on link after link to find out. So here you are:

What is NaNoWriMo?

National Novel Writing Month is a fun, seat-of-your-pants approach to novel writing. Participants begin writing November 1. The goal is to write a 175-page (50,000-word) novel by midnight, November 30.

Valuing enthusiasm and perseverance over painstaking craft, NaNoWriMo is a novel-writing program for everyone who has thought fleetingly about writing a novel but has been scared away by the time and effort involved.

Because of the limited writing window, the ONLY thing that matters in NaNoWriMo is output. It's all about quantity, not quality. The kamikaze approach forces you to lower your expectations, take risks, and write on the fly.

Make no mistake: You will be writing a lot of crap. And that's a good thing. By forcing yourself to write so intensely, you are giving yourself permission to make mistakes. To forgo the endless tweaking and editing and just create. To build without tearing down.

As you spend November writing, you can draw comfort from the fact that, all around the world, other National Novel Writing Month participants are going through the same joys and sorrows of producing the Great Frantic Novel. Wrimos meet throughout the month to offer encouragement, commiseration, and—when the thing is done—the kind of raucous celebrations that tend to frighten animals and small children.

In 2007, we had over 100,000 participants. More than 15,000 of them crossed the 50k finish line by the midnight deadline, entering into the annals of NaNoWriMo superstardom forever. They started the month as auto mechanics, out-of-work actors, and middle school English teachers. They walked away novelists.

So, to recap:

What: Writing one 50,000-word novel from scratch in a month's time.

Who: You! We can't do this unless we have some other people trying it as well. Let's write laughably awful yet lengthy prose together.

Why: The reasons are endless! To actively participate in one of our era's most enchanting art forms! To write without having to obsess over quality. To be able to make obscure references to passages from our novels at parties. To be able to mock real novelists who dawdle on and on, taking far longer than 30 days to produce their work.

When: You can sign up anytime to add your name to the roster and browse the forums. Writing begins November 1. To be added to the official list of winners, you must reach the 50,000-word mark by November 30 at midnight. Once your novel has been verified by our web-based team of robotic word counters, the partying begins.

Still confused? Just visit the How NaNoWriMo Works page!

So there you have it! Join! Write! Revisit your coffee and/or Red Bull addiction! Pull out some hair! And walk away with something written that wasn't there before! Whether or not you manage the full 50,000 matters not! Trying is half the fun, and take it from someone who's been there before, it's a great way to get those creative writing juices flowing!

If you sign up and want to befriend me (as if anyone wouldn't!) my username is "get_skittled". Add me. I will add you. We can mutually discuss how good or bad our novels are coming. It'll be a grand old time!

Don't you just hate empty promises?

I know I do. Especially when they're made by inanimate objects.

Observe.

Maybe I'm just a cynic, but I'm thinking...if a bra can handle "back-fat" issues...then you probably don't actually have back-fat issues. Your current bra is just potentially a bit too constricting. In any case, I don't believe that by purchasing this bra, anyone will actually find themselves saying, "Goodbye!" to their extra back-ness.

So I'm thinking "Bye-Bye Back Fat" would probably fall into the "empty promises" category. Or, if you're one of those people who files lawsuits over ridiculous things, perhaps "false advertising".

Memo: Check Document Spelling.

Yes, it's that time again. More "funny signs". 

Although this time it's really more of a funny memo. I found it at work, stuck dutifully to the lost and found drawer. I distorted the last name and phone number because I'm not that mean and I don't want to put people's personal information out for the world to see. But I couldn't not take a picture of it. Because it tickled me quite a bit.

Check it out. I hope it's legible enough for you to read. It's a memo concerning someone who lost a phone. It includes a description of the phone.

Did you see it?

The funny part, I mean.

Yep. It's a fully "whight" cell phone.

I've never seen a whight cell phone! A white one, sure. But never a whight one.

So there you have it. My funny sign for today. I hope you got a chuckle out of it. I know I did.

New Updates, Past Entries

That whole backdated entry thing can be handy, but then...if I update the posts, or...finish actually writing them...then they show up behind my newer posts (date-wise), and thusly are skipped over by the lovelies that are keeping up with this blog!

Here's a quick fix. :) These are the two technically-newest past-entry posts. And for the sake of convenience, I'll give a brief little...description of sorts. For both entries. That way you'll know if you want to check them out (or not).

First up in the farthest back newest entry, Do What You Feel.

This is a short little post + a funny little video! The best of both worlds, right?

 *nudge nudge*

The 'short post' part is a prelude to the video, which is a clip of my favorite show, The Simpsons. Coincidentally, it's also the show that taught me a number of valuable life lessons. And I can think of a Simpsons quote to reference just about anything you could say to me. But that's neither here nor there. Anyway, as it is a pretty short post, the title actually does sum it up pretty well. The clip is from an episode where Bart basically starts a movement, causing the town to "Do what you feel." The clip is of a newscast about the new so-called WayOfLife. Plus a little exchange at the end that always makes me laugh... :)

Second, a more...serious post, I am Pro-Life. You Have Been Warned.

This is a not-so-short post, probably falling under the category of "on the soapbox", so now you know in case you don't feel like reading it. 

It spawned from a different blog entry I read about Veep Candidate Palin, but it's not so much about her so much as what this other blogger called her; Anti-Choice. As opposed to Pro-Life. It is a stance post, and if you don't want to read it then don't. But in whole it's about how supposedly "un-biased" information can be so blatantly biased anyway. Example; it would be unbiased to state political figures' literal platforms. But by choosing "Anti-Choice" instead of Pro-Life, the bias sneaks in anyway. If you're going to be biased, you might as well admit it. Like I am now. My post is biased because I am Pro-Life, and I take offense to being called "Anti-Choice" by affiliation, because I would be jumped all over if I started calling Pro-Choice people "Anti-Life".

Anyway, as I was on the defense when I was writing it, it's hard to sum up the whole thing because it's a little more... erratic than it would have been if it wasn't an emotional topic for me.

So there, that's that. Those two posts have fallen under the radar because I started them but did not finish them before updating again. Read them if you want, I just wanted to make them stand out more.

You know, like they would if I had published them earlier. ;)

In OTHER news, Tucker has still been running me ragged. :)

He gets tired at a decent hour, but every now and then...just a little bit before he actually tuckers himself out, he'll get remarkably wound up.


He'll run circles around the living-room, and he's learned how to jump up on chairs. So he'll jump up on the sofa, run across it, jump down, run to one of our recliners, jump in that, wait, jump down, haul butt around in circles again... It's pretty fun to watch. It's crazy how much noise he makes, but I love listening to his little feet as he tears across the floor.

I recently bought myself a new digital camera. Time for an upgrade and all that. And it just so happened that the night I bought it was one of Tucker's get-hyper-get-happy nights. So I captured a lot of that on film.

Yep. You guessed it! That means *drumroll* a photo frenzy! See below! ;-)

"Is my yummy treet."

"Mah TREET! I dropt it!"

"Howd it git ovar ther??"

"Whatchoo lookin at?"

And now we're finished!

Now to go do my British Literature homework. So that I don't have to tomorrow. Peace, ya'll.

A Long-Awaited Return to a Fog-Shrouded Town

This could possibly be the best news I've gotten in a long time.

SILENT HILL: HOMECOMING!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

HTM(hel)L

Well, I thought I was learning some HTML...

HA!

HAHAHAHAhahahahahuhuhuhah...*wipes brow* Whew!

Boy, I don't know who I thought I was kidding!

That there HTML stuff is a bit more complicated than I'm used to, apparently. So much so that I've grown fond of calling it HTM(hel)L. See, I've been trying-trying-trying to learn how to make a table of pictures. Thumbnails to be precise. So that I can post a bunch of pictures, but not all full sized. Instead, they'd show up in this nice and neat little row, and if you so chose to see a bigger version, all you'd do is click the thumbnail!

...Yeah...It's not quite as easy as it looks. I managed once. ONCE! Woo-hoo! But then I didn't dry my eyes out by staring at that cursed internet script for a couple of days, and so today when I sat down to try my luck again, I unfortunately discovered that all of my table-o-thumbnails knowledge had somehow completely escaped me.

Alas, it would seem I'll need at least another free 48-72 hours to figure that out. 

Yes, because I can spend hours and hours working on an HTML code, and if I walk away to get a drink of water before I finish it, when I get back I am absolutely and completely LOST. It's just like visiting a land you've never been to before, and driving along is alright, but then you look down to change the radio station and suddenly you may as well be on the moon. Because when you look up again, nothing is familiar.

Only in HTM(hel)L, not only are you lost, but your eyes also burn from trying to discern anything out of strings and strings of letters and backslashes and these little things < >!

So, forget that. I'll post my pictures later. Maybe next year. By then, surely I'll have it down.

[Don't quote me on that. Thanks.]

In other news, I'm in the creative process of reworking the look of this blog! Well, okay, I'm in the creative process of thinking about figuring out how I'd redo this blog if I knew what I was doing. (Which, coincidentally, is one of the reasons I'm trying to get a handle on HTML.) But that's just a bit of "I'm excited about it, so let me share!" news. Not for sure when that would happen or what all it would entail. Probably not much. So maybe a new banner, different colors. You know. BIG differences.

So anyway, if that comes out...I'm sure I'll post more. Maybe a countdown. That could be fun.

Also, since this post has no rhyme or reason thusfar anyway, I'll offer something else. In the interest of playing around with layouts and such -- you know, so I don't screw up mine before knowing what to do with it! -- and because I wanted to, I started another blog. If you know me, you'll know that I admit to loving Paris Hilton. That said, I've started a blog of random Paris news, updates, whatever. As if I'm the first person who's done that! In case you happen to want to check it out, it's just as easy as clicking this link. If you don't, then by all means...don't!

And - a question I wanted to ask. Does this happen to ANYONE else?

So I decide I sort of kind of maybe want to buy a new digital camera. So I have in mind this one that I'm looking at. And I've checked it out at a few different places. Then I get paid and realize if I want to buy it I actually can, so I get out again thinking that I'll look again, and perhaps be more interested in buying it than I was.

Only THEN I can't find it ANYWHERE.

Okay, I found it at once place. But I actually had a couple of cameras I was scoping out, and I only found one of them and I didn't really want to buy one without looking at the other one again. But still.

Is this just me? Am I the only person fortunate enough to suffer such a...condition?

I hope not.

Okay. I'm ending this post now. While I'm ahead. Or before I get too far behind. At this point, I cannot pretend that I'm not just babbling. Oh dear.

In closing, here's a picture of my dog Kelsi. :) Ain't she purdy?

I am Pro-Life. You have been warned.

I recently read a blog by I-Don't-Remember-Who (I think possibly Perez Hilton, go figure) who described Sarah Palin, Governor of Alaska and VP running mate for McCain, as an Anti-Choice, Anti-Gay person. "Must mean she's against anything fun," the blogger stated. I don't actually mean to get on a soap-box, but you'll have to excuse me as I find Anti-Choice to be a very bias way to say "Pro-Life", and Pro-Life is definitely something that I am. And that is very close to me.

I am Pro-Life because, as someone who was adopted, I find it personally offensive that anyone would want to make a law that says because I wasn't planned, my birth mother has the right to decide for me that my life is inconsequential, especially if it's inconvenient for her. I find it personally offensive that people want it to be alright for her to see me as a glitch, a road bump, an obstacle, a punishment (Thank you very much, Senator Obama), a mistake, an unwanted and unacceptable result of her otherwise enjoyable sex life.

I am Pro-Life because if my mother had decided that I wasn't of any value, that I was just a fetus - not a person - and gotten an abortion, I would never have been born. I would never have had the chance to be raised by my wonderful adoptive parents, never made any of the amazing friends I have, seen any of the incredible things that this world has to offer. I never would have gone to school, gotten an education, worked, grown up, walked, talked, breathed, lived. She would have effectively caused me to "never exist".

What really stood out to me about that little article, if you want to call it that, is the twisting and perverting of "Pro-Life" into a negative form, "Anti-Choice". 

Anti-Choice? Instead of Pro-Life? Why would anyone skew it that way and make it so negative? Why isn't it okay for me to be Pro-Life? I have my beliefs and you, whoever you may be, are more than welcome to your own. But to take a stance and twist the words to make it negative just because it's not what you think is pretty low, I don't care who you are. I'm Pro-Life, but I don't call you Anti-Life. How much worse than "Pro-Choice" does Anti-LIFE sound? Think about it. Instead of "I'm for women having the right to choose," now it's, "I'm for women having the right to kill their child."

But if you want to do it that way, then fine. I'll play that game. The putting-words-in-your-mouth game. How about instead of Pro-Choice, we call it Pro the-baby's-inconvenient-so-get-rid-of-it? Or Pro- if-we-say-it's-not-a-person-we-don't-feel-so-bad-for-destroying-it?

Would we deny that a seed is, for all intensive purposes, a very small tree? Just because it's a seed, does it not have the guaranteed potential to become just what it was made to; a tree? Why is it that we throw the term "fetus" in, and toss the word "baby" out and suddenly it's not a little person anymore?

Does it make any sense that if a woman volunteers to get an abortion, it's perfectly acceptable, but if a person murders a woman who is with child they can be charged for two counts of murder?

Either it's okay to destroy the child, or it's not. Either the woman getting an abortion is murdering just the same as the person who kills the woman and unborn child, or that person shouldn't be charged with TWO counts of murder because it doesn't matter that she was pregnant - it's not actually a person with rights until birth.

We just want to feel good about the things we want. We don't think it's acceptable to call it a baby if that's going to make the mother feel like a killer instead of a woman excercising her right to choose. But if it means sealing the deal for a murderer, then sure, babies have rights!

The hypocrisy of it boggles my  mind.

I'll get off that soapbox now.

Death Dealt By Blow Dryer.

Alright, I've done it again. But I swear, it was an accident! If I had known how it was going to turn out...I mean, I NEVER would have done things the way I did! Please don't judge me, for I know not what possessed me to behave so...oh, it's just so horrible.

I know, I can't believe it either!

...I killed a spider.

Well, okay, not killed...but...maimed. Effectively ruined. And I so didn't mean to! I mean, you know me - I just think about the little spider husband or wife, forever waiting for their other half to return home. But he/she NEVER WILL! And if they had little babies, little tiny spider babies, they'll never see their mom or dad again. BECAUSE OF ME!

I'm so ashamed.

But it was an honest mistake...

So there I am, in my bathroom, drying my hair. And I've been known to have daddy-longlegs in my bathroom before, so it's not like seeing one makes me scream and flee the scene. But this particular little spider happened to be closer to me than I'd like. 

Like, on the wall directly to my right, as opposed to...say...on the ceiling and across the room from me.

And my hair dryer is sending this jetstream of air out, so I think, "Hey, I'll just aim at the spider. Scare him a little. Shoo him away." So I do.

And it works!

Except for he starts running closer to me instead of farther. And his relative proximity was the problem in the first place.

So I'm thinking, "We'll see about that, mister!" and I air-blast him again. He drops from the wall and onto the counter.

HELLO! That's even closer, still! Persistent little bugger!

Enter air-blast number 3!

This time he flung himself forth, so to speak, effectively taking refuge between my sink knobs and the wall.

By now, not only am I wasting time that I need to use to be beautifying, but I'm also tired of fighting the battle. So I decide it's good enough that I can keep an eye on him. And he's not moving a whole lot. Which at first had me afraid he was dead, but then I saw him moving and figured he was just stunned. I mean, to be fair, his little spider life just flashed before his eyes, and he's surely a bit windblown. For him, a hair dryer is probably a hurricane. And I the cruel giant in control of the weather. Sort of.

Anyway. I finish drying my hair, straighten it, and I'm gone. This was at like...eleven. I have some stuff to do, and then class at 5:30, and then work at 7:30. So I don't get home until...uhm...maybe 2, 2:30 in the ever-lovin' AM.

I'm in the bathroom, reaching for my toothbrush in a kind of work-induced daze, when I realize that the spider is still where he was. And I had figured that by the time I'd gotten home he'd definitely be somewhere else. Probably the ceiling. Or hiding. From the giant with the hurricane-gun.

But no. He lay where he had fallen. And it's been a long night, I'm feeling a bit emotional anyway, (I won't go into it, but if I don't get enough sleep I get CrankyEmotionalWhineyIrritableSadAngryDepressed, all around a complete pain to be around. And this doesn't include my normal emotional state. The kind where I cry during commercials. And songs. And from looking at a picture. And movies. Books. Thoughts. Tangles in my hair. O_O ) so I think, "Great. He's dead."

And I do that thing that I think most people do when you see something and think, "Is it dead? I don't want to touch it..."

Yes. I blew on it. This is especially effective with bugs.

And sure enough, his little...I don't know...those short little things on the 'face' side of his round little body started to wiggle. So he was still alive. Only still in the same place...

That's when I notice his legs...

The ends, like...the feet part that don't look like 'feet', are all curled up. Pretty much on all of them. Like they look when the spider they're attached to is dead. And then it hits me.

The heat from my hair dryer must have basically fried his legs.

Remember how I said I was tired, and therefore emotionally unstable --moreso? Yeah. I cried. I felt absolutely awful. I would rather have accidentally killed the poor guy. But instead, I rendered him useless. Unable to walk. Or climb walls. Get food. Live. You know, those important functions.

But of course I STILL didn't have it in my to squish the guy, even thought technically I guess that would have been more 'humane', so what do I do? I flush him down the toilet.

And think, somewhere in the back of my poor little imagination, that maybe the cool water will...uh...fix his legs. And when he finds himself in the sewer he'll be able to somehow...hitch a ride on a leaf or something and get somewhere safe and sound, dry out, and smell his way back home to his loving family.

...

Yeah, even I'm like "Oh wow," at myself.

Needless to say, I went to bed feeling like a horrible murderer, The End.





Explain to me how I can cry over a spider, but some of my favorite places to eat are Chick Fila, Chapps (Burgers to Die For!), and Springcreek Barbeque.

**An Update**

Yeah, so after I posted this I went into my bathroom to get ready for bed... And I stepped on another spider. It's like a massacre! I'm a killing machine! :(

Evolving is Hard Work!

Can you imagine? I mean, supposedly this took millions upon millions of years, right? No wonder you'd be tired by the time you made it to 2008. That's a long freakin' trip!

Do What You Feel.

Besides being a clip from my favorite show, and never failing to make me laugh, I also think this is a great example of "It sounded like a great idea...at the time". And how maybe it's okay that we have some limits on what we do and/or say.

:)

Enjoy.

Stop! Hey, What's That Sound? Everybody Look, What's Goin' Down?

Since when did stopping at a stop sign become a suggestion?

And I'm not talking a rolling stop. Or a California roll, or whatever you want to call it. I myself am guilty of those kinds of stops. No, I'm talking about a not-stop. A non-stop. A "those-red-lights-on-the-back-of-my-vehicle-lit-up-so-it-counts" stop.

But the thing is, just because your brake lights get their 

shine on doesn't mean you actually stopped. Or even came close, really.

Because that's not a stop. That's the same brake-light action you'd have on ANY 90 degree turn. And when that happens you're not always stopping, are you?

 (That's a rhetorical question.)

So again, my original question -- When did a stop sign stop meaning "STOP." and start meaning "Maybe slow down. If you feel like it. Or if you see a car coming. But maybe not even then."?

People who say they always stop if they see another car coming just sound egotistical and presumptuous to me. Would they CALL it an accident if Biffy pulled out in front of Jim-Bob even though he saw Jim-Bob coming? 

NO. 

They would call that:

1. Stupid
   
2. Suicidal
3. Illegal -- (Attempted?) Vehicular Manslaughter.

Stop signs are there so that everyone stops. It's kind of the law. And as annoying as it may seem, it doesn't slow things down that much and no matter how convenient it would be to disregard it, it's not a suggestion.

That's a good thing, too. Because people don't have to take suggestions. It's like giving someone good advice and watching them not take it. For example:

"Don't jump off of the Empire State Building, Freddy. That cape doesn't make you Superman!"

"That's where you're wrong, Chuck. But don't worry, you'll see!"

And then that's the end of poor Freddy because he just didn't feel like taking Chuck's advice.

No, he'd rather plummet to his death than admit that he doesn't have superpowers.

I realize that's an exaggeration, but to me that's the same as someone saying "Oh, don't worry. I stop if there's a car coming. I mean, duh, right? Haha."

Accidents are called accidents for a reason. And you may intend to stop when there's a car coming, but what if you don't see a car coming? And that can happen even if you stop at EVERY stop sign. That's how I was in my first car accident.

Plus think about it for a minute. If stop signs start to mean "slow down", does that mean red lights could weasel their way into "Red means look both ways and go,"? Because isn't that how stuff happens? Take television for example. Cigarettes used to be a big no-no, and now they're rampant along with casual sex and hard drugs. 

Is that what we call progress?

I'm just sayin'.

Potty Humor

Just a little something I discovered in the restroom of a whole foods store.
It's quite catchy.
I dare you to read it and try to keep it out of your head.

See? It's stuck now. You'll be repeating it for hours.

Or it's just me.

It's possible.


I'm just sayin...

Going Postal Not Just for Postal Employees Anymore, Sources Say.

Okay. I HATE going to the post office. So much. Unfortunately, lately I've been going more than usual. I won't give you the whole story, even though it's not too long, but basically I've just started selling stuff on eBay, so shipping and I have been getting very close lately. The connection is definitely electric.

But I should start at the beginning so that this isn't quite just an I-HATE-THE-WORLD kind of post, because things really aren't that bad. And I don't hate the world. Just a few people in it. And hate really is a strong word, just like they say, so really I don't even hate a few people. Let's just say I don't appreciate them.

So now, a flashback to where my morning began. Which wasn't too bad. It just sort of...snowballed, if you will.

I set my alarm for 8am this morning. I also set my alarm for 8:15am because I know myself too well and I have a reputation for getting it on with the snooze button for most of the morning. But I had stuff I needed to get done before a certain time, so snoozing wasn't an option.

I officially got up at 8:17, which I think is pretty impressive myself. I rolled out of bed, as is my usual method for 'getting up' and went straight for the shower. Another morning ritual. But all that really needs to be said on that event is that things went off without a hitch.

Out of the shower, dressed and as made up as I'm going to get, I then grab my laptop and head for the office so I can print out a shipping label. Dad's in there playing Text Twist (sidenote: that game is REALLY addictive. Seriously. No joke.) so I stand on the other side of the desk and plug in the printer. Who needs to sit down? This should only take a few minutes.

TWENTY minutes later finds me STILL trying to print out a shipping label. It goes something like this:

Me: C'mon, load! This is ridiculous. This should never take this long.

Paypal's Shipping Center: I'm sorry. I am not available at this time. I'm so sorry for the inconvenience.

Me: ...*blink*...What? You're kidding me. That figures! ...Maybe I've got a bad connection. *reloadreloadreload*

Paypal's Shipping Center: Apparently you've timed out your connection. Hows about you go re-enter your email address and password and we'll see what we can do.

Me: Great. Fine. Okay. Thanks. *makes sure to send little bursts of hate through her fingertips as she punches in her login info*

Paypal's Shipping Center: Perfect, good job. Now let me process that....still processing...Tap your foot all you want, missy, I'm not done yet...Count to five. Maybe by then....Nope. Settle down now, I'm working on it. See, okay. There we go. Is this the right shipping information? How do you want to pay? Credit card, perfect. So all this is right?

Me: For the hundredth time, YES! *enterenterenter*

Paypal's Shipping Center: Oops, you know what? I forgot. I'm still down. I can't make your label. My bad. But don't worry, I didn't charge you for it either.

Me: *heaves a sigh, wants to heave a brick* Okay. Fine. Then I'll just take it to the post office whenever I go down the street to pay my tuition. Let's just print the packing slip then.

Paypal's Shipping Center: Actually, you really can't print the packing slip until you print the shipping label.

Me: ...But you won't LET me print the shipping label!!! *pulls out chunks of hair*

Paypal's Shipping Center: Yeah, but those are the rules. Whatcha gonna do? Cry me a river, ma'am. You need to calm right down because I'm just not functioning.

Me: Any idea when you'll be up and running again?

Paypal's Shipping Center: That's for me to know and you to find out.

Yes. It was awesome. So I get my package all wrapped up and ready to go with the intent of making a stop at the post office after I make sure I'm registered and pay for my classes.

By now, it's sort of raining. Not bad, but just enough to annoy me because I have to get out in it with mail. But anyway, I'm on the road. about 30 minutes later than intended, but I should still have time. No big deal.

I'm about halfway to the school when I realize that while I remembered the package, I didn't remember anything that has the address I'm supposed to ship to on it. Cherry on top. But as I'm going to have to turn around anyway, I decide to go to the school first.

At the risk of word getting out, I'm going to go ahead and let you know that sometimes the people at Navarro are absolutely NO help. At all. With the exception of the counselor. She's nice. But the people that work there...at least the ones I've encountered*, reek of incompetence. Or unhelpfulness. Or something. Something not good. Something stinky.

I fill out my registration form, wait for Lady #1 to come help me out, and she does her thing, prints me out something, and sends me to the counselor, saying, "She'll get you in the class and then you'll come back and pay." 

Cool. That's cool, works for me. So I go see the counselor, and at the same time double check that it's not going to be a problem for anyone that I'm taking two classes, but both at different schools, and she reassures me that that's no problem. See? The counselor is awesome. Go counselor! She also tells me that I'm already enrolled in the class, which means that whatever I did online actually DID work but for some reason blackboard didn't show me as enrolled in anything, but it's still a big whatever because either way all I have to do now is go pay.

So I go to pay, but apparently two guys have requested transcripts, so I'm waiting. That's fine. The workers couldn't know how long I'd be in the counselors office. But here's my problem.

The picture in front of me is basically this. Three desks, three ladies, only one of them -- the one that initially started helping me-- is doing anything. To me, that's a problem. But then Lady #1 --the one that initially started helping me-- asks Lady #2 to do one of the transcripts. See, good job! Teamwork. Double up and get'er done.

Not so.

Apparently #1 was trying to walk #2 through the process or something, because Lady #2 said something akin to "I can't do it, it says I'm locked out," to which #1 replies, "Oh! We can't do it at the same time."

...Which we didn't know before now?

Whatever.

So #2, who by the way is standing RIGHT in front of me and using the very computer that #1 started helping me on, says, "Okay, well while you finish that, I'm going to ring her up."

Haha. JUST KIDDING.

#2 says nothing, and goes back to her desk. So we're back to that "not doing something, doing something, not doing something" order. 

I look at the time like, are you kidding me? And a few moments later #3, who up until this point has said nothing at all, asks who was next in line. #1 lets her know that I'm next and waiting to pay. So THEN #3 comes to ring me up.

Awesome.

So then I'm done at the school. I go outside. It's raining a little more. Still just mildly annoying because I now have to go home, print out shipping info, and then go to the Post Office.

Back at the house, I try one more time to plea my case to Paypal's Shipping Center, but we're still on bad terms, so I print out the shipping info, pop  my package in a plastic bag so as to protect it from nasty rain waters, and skeedaddle* over to the P.O.

Just to add insult to injury, as I'm getting out of the car I drop my key between my seat and my door. I fish out my car key. My other keychain is still stuck. To be gotten later, I suppose. And I go in. There isn't anyone in line! Perfect! Finally, something goes right!

Except that as I'm pulling my package out of the bag, I realize that I left my shipping information -- the very paper I had to make a special trip to get-- in the car. 

Fine. So I go back to the car for the slip of paper. Then on my way back in, I slip on the tile and catch myself with my kneecap. Which didn't feel awesome, but did once more add insult to injury. Literally. And then I stood in line behind one guy. That wasn't so bad, though. He didn't take long and soon I was back up at the counter, explaining that I wanted to ship with Media Mail. And I handed her the address to ship to. So she told me to go back and write the address on the front. Which, in hindsight I suppose makes sense, but at the time all I was thinking is that I usually print out a whole label for it, so I thought maybe they'd have to do the same thing.

But you know what, I don't work at the Post Office. So actually I don't feel irresponsible when I don't know all of the rules. 

So I write the address on the envelope, get back in the line again, go to the counter, hand her the package, etc., etc. She types, stamps, prints, whatever it is that she does. And I'm standing there, handing over my credit card, waiting. Then she hands me a receipt, which I take, and ask, "Does this have the tracking number on it?"

"No, you didn't ask for delivery confirmation," she says, not a hint of a smile on her face, nor a tinge of friendlyness

Oh, right. I forgot. Again. I'm supposed to know all of the rules. I'm supposed to know that I have to ask for that. Beg for that. Plead for the option. Despite the fact that when I do all this business online, the tracking number basically costs $0.18 and I don't have the option NOT to get it.

My bad.

And so that is why I'm not a huge fan of postal employees at the moment. In my recent experience, with the exception of one very friendly older man, all of the post-emps I've dealt with are much more interested in getting me the heck out of line than they are making sure I'm helped/satisfied/happy.

Maybe part of it is working in retail. Where we have the mantra, "Smile and greet within 8 feet." And where the customer is always right. And where we offer charge cards, ask how you'd like to pay, let you know if something you got is Buy1Get1Free and "Would you like to go grab another one now that I've told you?" and "You have a great day, sir or madam!" Or maybe it's just that I expect a little politeness and courtesy. 

Whatever the reason, I'm not very fond of people working in any field involving customer service who can't even find the energy to fake that they want you to be happy. Or that they care. It doesn't take that much effort to plaster a smile on. And I can bet you I'd get written up, chewed out, or both if after shoving a receipt at you I cried out, "NEXT!" and practically shoved you out the door.

For now, I'm keeping my fingers crossed that by the next time I need to mail a package, Paypal's Shipping Center and I will be back on good terms.

No Habla Espanol. ¡Caramba!

It seems that once more I've caught myself procrastinating. For shame. And how appropriate considering my last update of sorts involved my ability to put things off until the very last. Alas, I fear I shall never learn.

I've really been meaning to update sooner. I'd like to say that I haven't been able to find the time, but that would only be partly true. I blame the internet. I'm so easily distracted as it is, what good is it to tap into a source of endless...whatever? I mean, I can get online with the sole purpose of checking my email and three hours later, what have I still not done? Checked my email! What HAVE I done, you might ask? So much and yet nothing at all. I've probably checked Facebook and/or Myspace. And not only checked, but reloaded, reloaded, and reloaded again. You know, just in case in the time it took me to find out that I actually don't have any new friend requests someone happened to...I don't know...send me a message? Leave me a comment? Right. It's like, HELLO!!! I'm pretty sure that nothing has changed. It's only been...*checks watch* Less than a minute? ...Huh. How 'bout that?

Wait, I think God just told me I got a message. Sweet!

*reload*

Oh. No, I must have misinterpreted that. Still no messages.

...

Somebody slap me. It really is just too much.

Anyway...

You know how they say you learn something new every day? Well, today I totally agree with that. Today I learned a FEW new things. Yep, more than one.

Firstly, I learned that staring at a piece of paper, no matter how long, no matter how intently, doesn't and won't ever result in the answers magically appearing. Nor will it cause your brain to suddenly know the proper answer. Apparently there's just no substitution for actual learning. [Who knew?] Usually I, having a fair grasp on the English language (despite what you may have been told), can reach into thin air and pull something out to write down. However, a grasp on the English language, no matter how fair, doesn't do you much good when the paper you're having a staring contest with --which, by the way, is a losing game in itself. Have you ever actually seen paper blink? -- isn't in English so much as it is in Spanish.

Just to give you the idea of my Spanish-speaking capabilities:

Q: You ask your friend if he can pay for dinner. 

You also ask him to leave a tip.

**I'm supposed to answer this. In a complete sentence. 

Not only making me cheap for asking my friend to get the tab AND the tip, 

but also making my ineptness very obvious.**

We've already concluded that staring does nothing. But that doesn't help my I-Don't-Have-The-Slightest-Idea-How-To-Construct-A-Sentence-In-Spanish-God-Help-Me situation. So I scrawl out the best answer that I can think of:

Yo no dinero. Y tu?

I know right? I'm awesome, huh? 

I no money? I no make sentence good sound. I no learn Spanish staring by at the papers in this books. I is sad.

So the next time a test involving understanding a foreign language comes up, go ahead and bypass that whole blank stare thing. It just doesn't work.

The second thing I learned is that...apparently at 1:30 in the morning, my thoughts come and go rapidly and without warning. Because I SWEAR I had something else I was going to add. But as soon as I started to type it...gone! Maybe it'll come to me. Chances are it's floating around somewhere back there. Where those other things I learned go. Once upon a time, I actually retained knowledge and information. Nowadays, it goes in one ear but instead of going out the other it circles back around and parks it in the rear, gathering dust in the back of my brain with a million other things that'd no doubt be convenient to remember.

Like my parents' birthdays. Or how to do basic math. Or spend on a budget. Or balance my checkbook. Speaking of, that I actually haven't done in...years? At least a year. Yikes.

But anyway, here's a really cute picture of Tucker and his happy little friend. Because it's cute. 

C'mon, you know it is.

For now, I'm thinking crawling under the covers (which is where Tucker is now) is a pretty attractive idea. Because I get to sleep in. And I don't have ANNNNYTHING to do tomorrow. 

Except clean my room. 

Which should be...interesting. 

At best.