So my friends, the time has come. I’m leaving in less than 24 hours and shan’t have access to my blog. I’ll be sure to fill you all in when I get back. I’m sure Wes and I will have a great many adventures that should make for good blogging. If you’re feeling the ache of loss from this almost-daily dose of sarcasm and nonsense, check out Cracked.com. It makes me laugh out loud almost every day. For now, take care and farewell!
Archive for » 2007 «
Thursday, December 13th, 2007 | Author: Erika
We have an unwelcome guest at our house. I thought he might have been a transient but I fear he may be considering moving in. Hold tight to your chair and relax as you let your preconceived notions of furry creatures fall to the ground because I’m about to rock your world.
Yesterday morning Doc and I had rounded the corner and turned onto our street after a brisk (read: freezing) and invigorating (my face was frozen and numb) walk when we both stopped. He must have smelled something and I definitely saw something and we both had to stop and assess the danger quotient of the situation. After squinting my eyes into the darkness I caught sight of the enigma: it was a raccoon. A raccoon that had run out of my garage upon our approach and was currently perambulating across my front lawn and throwing glances of reproach back over his chubby shoulder with each step.
Doc, after we walked up the driveway and were about 15 feet from the intruder, was wiggling in his leash and throwing up his best “Oh! Mom! Look! It’s a, oh, I don’t know, it’s a friend, though! Can I just, let me just, oh please can’t I just go and, oh!” look. I, with my intimate knowledge of the many puppy-eating species of varmints in the world, did not let him join the masked bandit and we went inside, closed the garage, and promptly told Wes, who was dead asleep.
The conversation went like this: “Good morning honey!” “Mruh…” “Hey, did you know we have a raccoon-friend? I just saw him hanging out by our garage. Doc thought he wanted to play but I didn’t let him. Cool, huh?” “Umhmm…”.
After I told Wes I promptly forgot about the interloper. This morning, however, I was surprised to see the same raccoon of the previous morning and he looked even more irate this time. He’s chunky and huge and he waddles. Doc feels like he’s best friends with the raccoon, on account of them having met twice now, and so he was really anxious to be let off his leash to play. I, of course, whisked Doc into the garage again and now I’m starting to wonder if maybe this raccoon has some evil intentions for my puppy (because obviously Doc’s the target. Or our trash. Seeing as how our trash is predominantly dog poop I figure he’s welcome to it if that’s the case). It’s a good thing that Wes built Doc’s Fortress of Solitude in the backyard or I’d really have to worry about his plump little puppy haunches.
I’m not sure how this tale is going to end, to be truthful. Either the raccoon will leave us alone or he’ll continue to explore more of our garage (ostensibly to borrow some tools but we all know raccoons are terrible at returning tools so no way was that excuse ever going to work). I have to say, though, that the raccoon is going to leave us alone regardless. If he finds it impossible to leave us alone on his own, though, he’ll have help from the heel of my running shoe right against his little bottom. I may squeal at the sight of spiders but I am one tough lady when it comes to my puppy and no smarmy little marsupial is going to be munching on my puppy if I have a say. No sir. He can munch on the poop if he wants, though, I’ve got no problem with that.
In other news, I keep looking at the calendar, incredulous. Can it really be the 13th? Can we really be leaving on the 15th? When we planned this trip it seemed so far away and now, BAM! Here it is! I’m increasingly antsy at work and am continuing my unbroken streak of having accomplished nothing work-wise for almost two weeks. Go me! I am a well-spring of useless Internet-begotten information and trivia, though, so that’s kind of productive. I’m considering bringing one of those eye masks to work tomorrow that has the eyes painted on the outside so that I can take a few naps while being exactly as productive as I am now.
Do you think anyone would notice?
Category: Doc Holliday, Just plain nonsense
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Tuesday, December 11th, 2007 | Author: Erika
I learned something new about my husband last night: the man can wrap a present. In fact, he can wrap the heck out of it. This week we are all about taking care of business and have a long to-do list to prove it. We knocked off about half of that list last night and I’m feeling a lot less stressed. After we ate dinner we let the puppy out of his crate and commenced Operation Christmas Present Wrap-Up 2007. While Doc chewed on whatever he could get his little paws around Wes and I grabbed our ammunition:
- 2 scissors
- 1 tape dispenser with clear tape
- 1 green Sharpie marker
- 1 package of adhesive gift tags
- 2 rolls of festive wrapping paper
- a whole lot of presents
After arranging ourselves we grabbed and wrapped. I was expecting Wesley’s presents to end up slightly less pretty than mine but I was pleasantly surprised to find that they looked just as nice as mine. His gift tags didn’t have quite the same pretty handwriting but they looked great. It turns out Wesley is a wrapper to be reckoned with. The man’s been holding out on me.
After the presents were wrapped (though sadly not placed under a Christmas tree because we don’t have one. I can’t deal with the millions of needles from a real tree and I’m pretty sure Doc would eat a fake tree and the presents beneath it anyway) we took one look at the puppy and knew. It was go time. He hadn’t been bathed for 2 ½ weeks and he was riper than a squishy brown banana. So, still high from our successful present-wrapping endeavor, we piled all three of ourselves into our miniscule bathroom and gave Doc a very thorough bath. He was so filthy that water barely touched his paws and instantly there was a brown puddle. Ew.
Bathing Doc is a tricky endeavor for all three of us (I do the washing, Wes serves as back-up by offering Doc treats and holding the shower head while I scrub, and Doc does his darndest to stand still and not jump out of the tub and inundate our tiny house with his dirty little bubbles). We survived and now his little bottom is white and fluffy (normally it’s a little matted and tan), and his ears are cleaned, and we’re all a little bit cleaner (Doc likes to pay us back for bathing him by getting us absolutely sopping wet).
Once the puppy was clean, dry, and tired I found myself in possession of a few quiet minutes so I decided to cross one more thing off the ole to-do list: give myself a pedicure. I am not vain about many things. I will go out in public in sweats and without makeup if the circumstances are right. I am OK with wearing my hair in a ponytail every day. I will even wear Wesley’s shoes out on errands if it means that I don’t have to tie up laces.
One thing I will not do, however, is allow my feet to be seen in public without a pretty pedicure. It’s very strange. Owing to the warm weather in Mexico I have the feeling I’ll be showing off my tootsies a lot and I want those piggies to be shiny! So, now they’re lacquered and red, my puppy is clean, my Christmas presents are wrapped, and I am one happy little clam. Albeit a happy little clam who will most likely never be used to make seafood linguine.
Category: Doc Holliday
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Monday, December 10th, 2007 | Author: Erika
Oooooh my goodness. We’re leaving on Saturday and I’m so excited that I’m practically dancing in my seat. I will officially be the least productive person in the building this week, fo sho. Even if I weren’t already in Mexico (mentally, that is) there wouldn’t be much to do anyway so there’s no harm done. My manager is out town for the next month and my other manager decided to assign me some busy work that he will never a) be truly satisfied with and b) be able to rationally justify anyway so I’m just going to sit here and imagine the warm sun on my face.
Another reason I’m so wired is that we had a good weekend too. I’m practically glowing from the inside I’m so happiness-hung-over from the weekend. On Saturday we (meaning me, Wes, Wes’ mother, and Wes’ grandfather) took a voyage to CarToys and got Wesley his Christmas present from his parents and me: a CD player for his car and new speakers! His old speakers sounded a lot like when you try to make a telephone as kid, using two soup cans and some string, and then you and your brother/sister/invisible friend stand far enough apart that the string gets taut but instead of getting taut the knot you tied at the end of the string to hold it inside the soup can pulls right through and you get so frustrated because the hole you cut is too big and no way could you tie a knot big enough to keep the string inside so instead you throw the whole stupid contraption away and use the walkie talkies your grandparents gave you for your birthday instead even though they’re so much less like a cool handmade phone (screw you, Bill Nye!). Yeah, you know, like that?
The new speakers sound wonderful and the CD player is a vast improvement over the radio/cassette tape player that was there before (the radio display was broken so Wes just had to kind of guess which station he was on. He never mentioned that sad fact and I never knew until one day I had to borrow his car. Such a trooper!). I watched Wes drive Skippy (his car) away after everything was installed and he was bouncing and singing away. I love giving gifts that make people joyful, it makes me tingle to my toes!
Then, on Sunday, Wes and I had a lot of fun in very different ways. Wes went to the Seahawks game with his brother and sister-in-law and the Seahawks totally kicked butt. Wes had a lot of fun watching the game and came home in a great mood.
While Wes was watching football, I got to go shopping. I am not known for my spectacular spending abilities (I’m really more known for my post-money-spending anxiety attacks) but the stars must have aligned perfectly because I bought a lot of stuff. Like a super-cute skirt to wear in Mexico and a bathing suit that doesn’t look like I borrowed it from my grandmother. I also bought some makeup essentials (like foundation, lipstick, and lip-liner) that I’ve always been too frightened to buy for fear of making the wrong selection. I was in the drug store and I decided that I’m a grown woman now and I’m not afraid of cosmetics! So I bought them and, let me just say, Wes is going to be very surprised and happy to see me all prettied up for dinner on our anniversary. Mee-yeow!
The coup d’etat of the weekend was, however, the shoes. The decadent, impractical, glorious shoes I found at Ross. Oh. My. Goodness. They are 4” tall (yep, with those puppies on I am a staggering {literally} 6’ 2”), red, and so pleasing to look at. They do beautiful things to my calves and make my feet look like sculptures. Honestly, even if I could never wear them it would please me just to look at them. When I do wear them I just have to walk very slowly. Wes found it very funny how over the moon I was about the shoes but he told me, “Honey, if they make you this happy get ‘em in black, too!”. *Sigh*, such a husband have I! It was a busy weekend and it’s going to be a busy week (except at work, of course) but when it’s all said in done we shall be in Mexico with make-up and SHOES and it’s going to be awesome. I’ve posted a picture of them below so that you, too, can revel in the glory that is 4” heels. For my part, I’ll just be here trying not to combust in the office.
Category: Fashion, Travels
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Thursday, December 06th, 2007 | Author: Erika
I think my dog’s on ecstasy. He and I are hanging out in my office and he’s just rolling around on the ground and rubbing his face back and forth. He’s licked every surface that he can reach and I can seriously imagine him thinking, “Aw man, this feels great. Mom, dude, you should totally, aw, this bookshelf tastes like dreams! You smell awesome! Come roll around, this carpet is amazing…”.
This is why I shouldn’t hang out with my dog alone while listening to Radiohead. He’s looking at me now with his trademark Mom, seriously, what is your problem? face (as you can see above, he was pretty much born with his patronizing shoes on). What a silly post…
Category: Doc Holliday, Just plain nonsense
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