Doggies at my Feet / Dog-Doggies in my Bed

So I just finished my paper! Who-Rah.
I ate all of my gummy bears, so I no longer have them trapped in the freezer screaming at me. They are now happy in my tummy.
I like the way that the dogs lie at my feet while I'm typing. They don't do that for Mike as much. I think it's a mom thing. It happens every morning, too. When Mike gets up, the girls follow him and get fed, and then they come back to bed with me. If I get up first, they come get fed, and then stay in the living room or bathroom with me. Of course I was trying to sleep in this morning, and Bonnie decided to tell the whole neighborhood that she was miserable, so she barked and barked until I had to get up to make sure that there was no creepy guy peeing in our front yard (I don't know why... but there have been men urinating in our yard before, and I assume Bonnie would bark hysterically at that...). Of course, there was nothing there, and Bonnie was oh-so-happy that mom was up, so I just got up. Stupid dog luring me out of my cave...
I helped my mom and dad pack up the basement today. They are trying (again) to sell the house. I boxed up all of my old Disney VHS tapes to keep, and let all of my NSYNC and Spice Girl tapes go in the garage sale box (if you're interested, I'll cut you a deal!). Of course, VHS is almost completely obsolete, and will certainly be so when I have kids, but Mom and Dad insist I keep them. So now my children will have to watch these movies on an old VCR that Mom will have saved for all of these years rather than being able to watch the new, clearer, enhanced DVDs that are being re-released. They will either be harassed on the playground for their weird technology, or will be seen as retro and cool... only time will tell.
It wasn't very fair that I had to go clean all of my brother's crap out of the closets. I thought that he was probably at work, but then I realized that it's 4/20, and he's probably... not at work...
Oh well, the dogs got to play and eat dead animals (they found several mice... I didn't just feed them dead animals), and now they are exhausted at their mama's feet... That makes it worth it.
Maybe I'll break out the Mary Poppins VHS for a real crazy night...

Talking Gummy Bears are in my Freezer...

I am so full from Gondolier spaghetti and bruschetta and calamari... but there are chocolate covered gummy bears in the freezer. Each little bear is calling my name (well, it's muffled, because the chocolate is covering up their little mouths... I'm starting to creep myself out). I want them, but know that I shouldn't eat them because my stomach is going to explode.
I'll wait another 30 minutes and see how I feel then.
By the way, gummy bears are amazing, especially frozen. But covered in chocolate, I think they are elevated to AMAZING. We got them at the candy shop(pe?) down on Pearl Street. That store is so much fun. I feel like... a kid in a candy shop... wow, sad metaphor (simile?). No, I feel like Hannah when we drop half a dozen balls on the ground and she doesn't know where to begin. Except the balls are chocolate covered. Or Bonnie when we tell her to shake, and then switch paws, and then switch back, and she gets so excited she starts jumping up and down and wiggling. Except instead of being excited about doing tricks, I'm excited that they have the candy bars that we would get at the gas station in Coogee. That's better...
I have to write my paper that is due on Monday. Actually, before I write that, I need to do the research to write it... hmm... what am I doing on here?

Still want gummy bears...

Lefties are taking over the world!

So I was really bored in class, so I started to write. I have decided to post it here, because I figure that I would have posted it on here if I had my laptop. So here it is:

I have this professor who has a ponytail. A beard, ripped jeans, and oversized t-shirts. I'm actually sitting in his class right now. He's a sociologist, and a stereotypical one at that. You can actually picture him wrapping his arms around a tree and giving it a squeeze. I've got no problem with him... except his class blows. Maybe it's just me, but I don't really think anyone here is really paying any attention. There's a girl in front of me whose on facebook and IM. Now they're talking about Vegan fastfood and compostable coffee cups (he actually asked "Do you get free coffee for telling us this?"). I'm not learning anything in this class. Maybe it's because I'm 4 weeks away from graduation, or because I'm taking this pass/fail, or because I'm lazy. But when your professor says "I'm no expert... were on this journey together", it's kind of a turn-off (again, maybe it's just me... the girl in the front row with a bandanna and lip ring is nodding her head after every single word this guy says... But there's still six people cruising the web on their laptops).
I've had a cold... it was in my head and throat for a few days, and now it has moved to my sinuses. I swear, my brain feels like it is leaking out of my nose. But I can't sneeze, so I look like I'm crying about the "state of the world"... but I just want to sneeze, GOD DAMMIT. I'm basically depleting tissue resources at a rate of 1/5 minutes. Boulder will be in a tissue drought within a week if this keeps up.
40 minutes left in class...
OH! I just noticed that there were 2 left handed girls sitting in the front row... then I just say that Bandanna/Lip Ring girl is also a lefty... 3 lefties in a row... sounds like a nursery rhyme. Is this a sign? Holy shit! ANOTHER one behind them! And one sitting right in front of me... WHAT'S HAPPENING??? And another behind Bandanna girl... I've officially lost my mind and have entered an alternate universe...
*duh-duh-duh...*

So that's all I wrote today...
I just ate a mango. Now, I like the skin. I'm not sure why, but I do. So, I decided to look it up on the web. Can you eat mango skin? Well, I got answers that fall into two basic categories: Yes you can and you should and No you can't and it will kill you. Well, needless to say, I started to freak out. My throat feels constricted and my lips are tingling. And the back of my head itches. Is it me? The mango? The lefties poisoning me? So I called my mom:
"Can you eat the skin of a mango?"
"I don't think so... I'm not sure. But I wouldn't."
"Well... I already did!"
"Then why are you asking?"
"Because I might DIE!!!"
"Well, how do you feel?"
"Tingly."
"Well, then I would lay off the mango skin... maybe wait about a month, and then slowly introduce it. Maybe you'll develop a tolerance. At least it's a lot of, you know, ruffage."
"Well, yeah... I guess."
So, Mom was pretty useless, so I called Dad:
"Can you eat the skin of a mango?"
"Sure you can! You'll get sick, but you can."
"Sick?!?!?"
"Well, no. Probably not."
"Well, I already ate it! So don't tell me that!"
"Well, how do you feel?"
"Tingly!"
"That's just in your head. Call me if your vision starts to blur."
Dad is so caring.

Now my back itches and my calf itches and my ears tingle... crap... now my tear duct itches and my stomach hurts!!!!!!
Ok... talking (typing) myself over the ledge, huh?

One more story: I was driving and stopped at a red light. I looked in my rearview mirror and noticed a lighter go on. And then the driver TOOK A HIT... 10 seconds later, he took another! I called Mike:
"Hello?"
"I'm at a red light and these two guys are in the truck behind me and the driver just took 2 hits of weed!"
"*laugh*"
"Seriously... we've been here less than a minute and their getting high... OH MY GOD! HE JUST TOOK ANOTHER HIT!!! 3 hits in less than 2 minutes!!"
"*laugh* When the light turns green, drive away really fast."
"Well, I better, because they'll probably come after me."
"Why?"
"Because I proabably look like a giant cheetoe!"
"No, you look like... well, your car is silver, so what's silver that you can eat?"
"I don't know... I'm not all high and shit!"

I drove away very fast...

A poem to Mike and I am sick

Mike don’t ride your bike

The lighting is coming

It will hit your bike

Mike

I love you and my bike,

Mike

Fuck a duck in my sinuses.

Don't Bother Reading this

Mike tells me that I have to write more, even if I don't have anything to write about, so here it is. As the heading suggests, there is going to be absolutely nothing of value in reading this, so don't bother (I feel a little like Eeyore saying that). What to write about...
I'm waiting for my oatmeal to be cooked. Not the microwave stuff, but the Steel Cut Oats that Oprah likes. They're pretty good, but it takes half an hour for a bowl. I've been sick since Saturday and still feel like crap. I should go to class, but I have all of this reading to do, so I might as well take one more day to heal and try to catch up. I always wait until the last minute to do stuff. I am the QUEEN of procrastination. Seriously. I have a paper due Friday, but still have to read one of the books it's on. My final paper for my Senior Seminar is due next Friday, and I haven't even checked out any sources. And I'll be gone all weekend in California. This sucks... it will be nice to be done with school for awhile.
I should also email my professors, but one of them thinks that the Internet (my autocheck on Firefox told me that Internet needs to be capitalized... a little full of ourselves, are we?) is the devil and I don't even know if he has email or checks it. That seems pretty stupid to me.
My oatmeal looks completely disgusting, but it better taste ok because I have no other food to eat.

Ok... I think that this is enough BS for today. Mike says that I should just get in the habit of writing as much as possible... even if it sucks. So, that's what this is.
If you made it this far, I bet you're thinking that you should have listened to me in the beginning and not bothered.

Wind is the Devil

I decided to take my beautiful bike (Miranda) out today. It's a really pretty day... warm, with a slight breeze. Spring to its fullest. I had to go get stamps, and rather than ride down the block to the grocery store, I decided to go to the post office. I was able to take the Creek path, and pretty much avoid all major roads. I got there, got my stamps, and then got back onto my bike. I thought that I could go to the bank on my bike too. I was on a role (no pun intended).
Then THE WIND began.
That nice, comfortable breeze had turned into a freaking fury of blowing force field that was zoned in right on Miranda and me. I could not move. I pedaled, and pedaled, and huffed and puffed, and that wind threw me around like a freaking plastic bag. I honestly thought that I was going to blow away and end up in Oz or something. At one point, while I was trying to get Miranda and me up a hill, I was pedaling and NOT MOVING!!! I was literally pedaling in place. I swear, the prairie dogs were laughing their little asses off in their wind-resistant holes. I was literally cussing the wind, and my legs, and was starting to have flashes of my life. I considered holing up in an underpass and calling 911: "Hello? I need help. My bike and I are trapped in a tree next to the creek because this freak wind storm has attacked me. Yes, I know it's a beautiful day, but it's a freaking hurricane out here! HELP! The prairie dogs have started to gather... and they look hungry... entertained, but hungry."
So, I threw my bike down. Actually, I gently placed my beloved cruiser down, but a stupid gust caused us to stumble to the ground. I sat there, watching the ducks and geese fight the waves that were forming on the creek, wishing that the wind would STOP STOP STOP!!! Well... it didn't, so after deciding that I WOULD SURVIVE, dammit, I got up, and pedaled my little legs off. It took forever, and I thought I might die, but WE MADE IT. Poor Miranda... a pretty little cruiser like her is NOT made for this!
This means that I burned extra calories... right?
PS: This picture isn't of my dogs... I got it off of google. But that's how I felt... and probably looked. Plus, it's a Joey dog.

Our Couch

It started with a rip. Just one... on one cushion. That's it.
Mike's aunt said, "Don't worry about it... you can just cover it up with a blanket!" The girls had just started to eat the couch. The rip had been there for years, started by former family dogs when I was a child.
It began with that one cushion.
When the stuffing began to poke through the leather, we covered it with shiny silver duct tape.
Then... it started to spread.
Corners were chewed on. Seat cushions were slashed by sharp puppy canines. The back of the couch began to be clawed at. We would come home and clouds of fluff would be all over the floor, in the backyard, and stuck in their teeth. Duct tape was found tangled in their fur that had to be cut out with scissors.
Duct tape covered the tears. They were reopened again and again. The edges started to peel, and suddenly we found ourselves re-taping the original tears. Buying duct tape in bulk from Costco.
We bought Bitter Apple spray. The cartoon on its bottle has a puffball of a puppy with a disgusted sneer on its face. We would spray it on the duct tape and leather and it would pool in puddles, or run down the sides. It actually worked a few times. We came home, and the couch was still intact (at least as intact as when we left it a few hours before). But it stopped working. Did they get used to the taste? Did they start to adapt, or actually start to like the bitter liquid? Did it become like salad dressing to them: a little more flavor to a naturally bland meal?
I stopped wasting my money.
When we lean back, our clothes stick, leaving black marks that are impossible to erase. Hair is pulled out after lying down. Skin has to be peeled away slowly, leaving the glue in strips along the backs of our legs and arms.
Now, more than half of the couch is a faded silver. Dirt, hair and skin cells are stuck to it. But it's our couch.
I guess we're gonna need a bigger blanket.