BMG

Got my ticket. I'm excited! See you there.

Miss Pam's Puppies

For those of you who were wondering what the guilty party looks like, please meet Miss ZuZu. Just look at that face! How could I not forgive her immediately.

This is Miss Bella with Reid. She is the elder puppy of the household. She would prefer I refer to her as the grande dame of the household.

Miss Pam with both of her puppies. Bella and ZuZu are Chinese Crested Powderpuffs. I am generally not a dog person, but these little gals stole my heart away. If memory serves me correctly, sister Pam is on the phone with sister Martine, and we are wishing her a happy birthday.

My Lost Loves

His character, Sayid, is more than a little frightening. So I prefer to think of Naveen Andrews tenderly washing Juliette Binoche's hair in The English patient. I'd say, though, the fact that in real life he's serially attracted to older women definitely wins him points with me. I'd be stranded on a desert island with him in a heartbeat. In my completely unscientific and totally biased assessment of four of the hottest guys on Lost, Sayid comes in at the #2 spot.

It seems the people who I swiped this photo from were not pleased, so it has been removed.









I could listen to Desmond talk all day long. It's that mellifluous accent. Not to mention that smile. He cleans up very nicely as well as looking fabulous all grimy. Played by Scottish charmer Henry Ian Cusick, Desmond is fired from a monastery, makes a poor impression with his girlfriend's father when asking for her hand in marriage, is dishonorably drummed out of the military, and fails to push the button in time causing the crash of Oceanic 815. In spite of this string of failures, I think he has enormous potential. Des comes in at #1 on my Lost Loves List.





He's a charmer and a scoundrel and a smartass. James "Sawyer" Ford as played by Josh Holloway, is the bad boy that every girl dreams about. Despite his obvious physical attributes, he comes in at #3 for me. I have this thing about Southern men. I don't trust them. I might go into therapy to sort that one out just for him, so we'll see if he calls.






He's got that Boy Scout, everyman, tortured soul, quarterback of the football team kind of guy appeal. Matthew Fox is Dr. Jack Shepard, the leader who reluctantly emerges from the crowd and in the end saves the planet from sure destruction. He's a handsome guy who feels compelled to fix anything broken. And he's #4 on my little list of Lost hotties. When Jack appears in a forward flash, in a full scruffy beard and following in his father's alcoholic footsteps, I hit the pause button and stared. He bears a striking resemblance to my first boyfriend. That gave me a little chill and pushed him to the bottom of the list. I would have been much more upset if Desmond had died.

It seems I don't have permission to use this image either. Okay, fine, it's gone, too.

End of August Rant

It seriously annoys me how the Facebook friend generator works. It makes sense that suggestions would pop up when you have mutual friends, and I suppose the others show up as the result of the Six Degrees Phenomenon. That means I ought to be friends with pretty much everyone else on the face of the earth. Not that it's a bad idea in theory, but I'd never be able to keep track of all the birthdays and my holiday card list would be completely unmanageable. May I most emphatically and clearly state at this moment that I do not, under any circumstances, wish to be friends with a specific ex-beau, his first wife, his current wife (two accounts), his teenage son, his brother, nor his nieces and nephew! And especially not their cat! Where is the dislike button?

Not Me

Time for the obligatory I'm behind on my posts for the month cute cat photo! I'm pretty sure that Newt is attempting to hide the fact that Steinie has pushed the throw off the ottoman onto the floor by lying on top of it. Interestingly enough, Newt looks a little guilty while his brother has an arrogant expression on his little cat face and has posed himself to appear his prettiest. Makes me wonder about their birth order.

M-M-M-M-My ZuZu Shoes

Last June, while we were visiting sister Pam down in Georgia, her puppy ZuZu took a liking to my sandals. In her amorous attentions to my footwear a little damage was done. They are now my yard shoes. I wear them outdoors for fetching the mail and watering the flowers. Also for safe passage across the cedar chips on my way to the hammock. Once situated, I kick them off. They wait patiently for me to slip them on again for the return trip to the house. Kind of like how a dog waits patiently at their mistress's feet. That's my ZuZu shoes. Part sandal, part puppy.

ObviousMan Strikes Again!

As if Lost isn't difficult enough to keep straight anyway, with the huge cast of characters and multiple story lines, now they're unstuck in time! For crying out louder than necessary! If I'd had to wait from week to week for new episodes, I'd be lost, too! There are humorous moments that I find very enjoyable amidst all the chaos, murder, bloodshed, sexual innuendo, and treachery. I replayed this little exchange five times. And laughed each and every time. From Episode 1, Season 5 of Lost, Because You Left:

Richard: Next time we see each other you won't recognize me. Give me this.

Locke: What is it?

Richard: It's a compass.

Locke: What does it do?

Richard: It points north, John.

The Party's Over

And it's about time, you're likely thinking. Really, this is the last time I'll go on and on about my birthday. Which was over six weeks ago. But so full of fun and surprises it all wouldn't fit into one blog post. Look at Sara and Karen! If I'd known it was wear your cute butterfly top day, I would have brought one along! Here we are heading into the Knuckle Saloon in Sturgis to see Red Willow!!

Sara and me in the parking lot at , where else, the Knuckle. This is Sturgis, people, expect to see a motorcycle or two.

Opening act D.D. and the Fayrohs warming up the audience. Such a fun band! They do rock-n-roll covers from the 50's and 60's. I want D.D.'s job! As y'all know, I'm a rock band wannabe.

Sara, moi, and Karen. Celebrating. Waaaay past our bedtime. It's okay, nobody turned into a pumpkin.

Red Willow!! Believe it or not, these guys are all older than me! But they still got it! A most excellent show, I must say. I enjoyed every minute of it.

And how exciting is this! I scored some vintage vinyl! Happy birthday to me!

All's Fair

Ah, the joy of holidays in elementary school! In the spirit of fairness, each child must give a Valentine to every member of their class. You know, all the boys and girls decorate a box to receive equal opportunity heart-shaped candy and cards. Michael's instructions were a bit terse for this holiday celebrating affection, but very clear. I guess when sharing love is compulsory it loses a little something.

To continue his minimalist theme, all he had to do in order to put his name on the box was convert the N to an M. I'm not sure which grade Michael was in when he created this box, but I do know in-class Valentine parties ended at fifth grade. I am amused by his pragmatic approach to this most illogical of holidays.

Things Take Time

Yes, I know the kitchen remodel was ten years ago. But some decisions you want to be sure about. I wasn't intentionally avoiding the purchase and installation of cabinet hardware. It simply was not the tea kettle on the front of the stove whistling for my attention. And what nudged me forward on this little project, you might be thinking. Well. I was visiting Colleen last week and was admiring her cabinet hardware, and how she has red cabinets on one side of her kitchen and black on the other, and how the same hardware on all of them sort of ties the whole thing together. Once I was home, I observed that I have oak cabinets on one side of my kitchen that are installed and three unfitted black cabinets on the other side. Then, an enormous cfl appeared in a cloudlike bubble over my head. Of course! Use the same hardware that you installed on the two smaller black cabinets and the island to coordinate with the china cabinet! Now all I have to do is drill a whole bunch of holes in juuuuuuust the right places. Pardon me while I make sure the spare battery for my drill is charged up.

Oy, My Boy!

That's my son. I am the proud mother of a Noogler. I feel as if my life is just beginning! I'm all verklempt. Talk amongst yourselves.

Give Me a Mile!

Take cover, everyone, my ClustrMap resets at midnight! At least I think it does. The amazing thing is, 5283 of you have taken a look here. Or fewer of you have peeked in more than once. You do the math, I don't feel like it. That's more than a mile of you! Well, it is if each of you is approximately one foot tall. That is all, I'm going back to Lost for the rest of the evening. Thank you, thank you very much. I'm certain Elvis has left the building.

Ach Tung, Y'all!

International Night at Jim's Tap is a local phenomenon. Every Thursday night they choose a country, feature beverages from that locale, and hand you a ticket each time you purchase one of those drinks. Last night was Germany. I had a winner! So I won a tshirt and a couple of drinks.

Tigh was with me. He's been around for a week. We bonded over Teutonic liquid refreshments and discussed the joys of being mostly unemployed. I suppose you're wondering how the unemployed can afford to drink. Obviously because I won $21 playing video lottery. All in all, a winning evening.

Often the theme drinks are served in souvenir glasses you get to take home with you. Here Tigh is attempting to enjoy some sort of liqueur in a RumpleMintz shot glass that thinks it's a pipe. There is a warning on the bottom of the cup that it is not meant to be used as a smoking device. Don't put it in the dishwasher, either. All I have to say is, Viva la Deutschland!

BTS!

Come closer. I don't want to say this too loudly. I love the school supplies aisle! Today I felt compelled to weave through those shelves of crayons and paper, glue sticks and backpacks, calculators and mechanical pencils. The elementary age kids shop with a parent. The parent frowns over the grade-specific list of items, checking off what is already in the cart. The about-to-be first grader solemnly clutches a Dora the Explorer pencil case. High schoolers roam the aisles in pairs or trios, sans parents, but clutching a parent's credit card. It all feels so optimistic and shiny. I move on to the Revlon aisle in hopes of finding a new nail polish shade. This fall there is no back-to-schooler in my house. I consider this fact with relief as well as longing.

Grilled

I knew the gas tank on the grill was getting low. And there never is a truly convenient time for it to run out, so I would say tonight was as convenient as it gets. No time that dinner absolutely must be on the table, just me and Reid with our respective tummies growling. With my new, improved hands, changing out the gas tank went very smoothly. All that was required was fetching the spare tank from the garden shed and locating one of my dozen or so pair of leather work gloves, which were conveniently near the huge pair of pliers. I avoid using the gloves with red canvas trim from this incident for anything that could result in bodily harm. Call me superstitious, but don't call me late for dinner. Which tonight is BBQ chicken legs, basmati rice, and pan roasted zucchini.

Thumbs Up!

After over two years of avoiding using my thumbs, it is most remarkable to open a jar without a tool. Just my hands. Turn a door knob. Hold a pen normally. Type with all my fingers. Carry the grocery bags from car to kitchen. I would say that my pain factor has been reduced by 95% and that the strength in my hands is near normal. The side effects of the nerve block shots are tolerable, a lingering feeling of a slight lump in my throat and the right side of my tongue feels a little thick. I'm working on some aversion therapy to alleviate the remaining itching and burning sensation in my palms. My fine motor skills have not yet returned so small tasks remain a challenge. The side effects of the Lyrica are the most limiting issue I have to deal with right now. Waking up is difficult though I have been sleeping well nearly every night. My morning coffee alleviates the slight headache I awaken with. Speaking in full sentences is something of a chore and I find myself pausing frequently when I can't summon up the next word. These are all considered normal side effects, and I'm on a relatively tiny dose of 50 mg a day. The fog doesn't entirely lift until mid-afternoon, so I've been arranging my day around my druggy limitations. It sounds as though I will be able to wean off the Lyrica after my doctor visit next month if my condition continues to improve. After feeling banished from all things joyful and powerless to change my circumstance for so long, I'm grateful to be feeling more like my sassy old self. All I have to say is, if correct diagnosis and treatment substantiate a miracle, I'm nominating Dr. Cook for sainthood.

Drained

Will someone please explain to me why the drain in my shower is smack dab in the center of the stall floor? Nearly every time I'm in there one of my feet is covering the drain! Needless to say, this does impede the outflow of water. In fourteen years I have never come close to flooding the bathroom due to this inconvenient drain placement. But it seems to me that when bath fixture design people are hunkered over their drawing boards, they might want to rethink putting the drain where the showeree most likely will be standing. Yes, I do realize the illustration is of a kitchen sink variety of drain. I just liked the tiny cyclone effect.

Lost in Lost

I never would have had the patience for Lost during its original run. Nor would I have been able to keep track of the characters. Or understood the significance of Kate counting slowly to five. Mostly I don't have the patience for commercials. Likely I wouldn't have had the patience for the wacky story line and would have abandoned the show by halfway through the second season. So I expect it's either thank you, Netflix, for getting me into Lost, or perhaps, curse you, Netflix, for getting me into Lost!

Not Your Basic Mary Kay Pink

Fuschia? Magenta? Looks like screamin' hot pink to me! It's not often that you see a car this color. We stopped and admired how shiny and pretty it was.

Particularly awesome because it very nearly matched my nail polish. I was in love, but Karen and Sara dragged me away.

Vicious Cycle

It seems now that I should have brought my lawyer along to my doctor appointments. So I could run medical recommendations past my legal expert. Just what the fuck happened to first, do no harm? In the grander scheme of things, how does this help anyone achieve wellness? And should I consult my doctor before hiring a lawyer? Which leaves me wondering if I'm truly qualified to choose one toilet paper brand over another.

Stuff that didn't go to Kirkland

1/2 tub of Cascade dishwasher detergent in convenient Action Pacs!

Frozen food, several bags of veggies plus a pound of hamburger

1 large laundry basket

4 rolls of toilet paper

25 cubic yards, give or take, of various electronic recycling items

Assorted full punch cards for free drinks at local fancy coffee places

1 2001 Pontiac Sunfire automobile. With three vehicles and two drivers in the house, anyone want to buy this?

Celebrate Some More...

Belated birthday lunch with the girls. Thanks to Tammy, Kristi, and Colleen for a lovely afternoon. That's my key lime birthday dessert thing. It was yummy. Sigh.

Hey, Buddy, My Hands are Up Here!

It seems that, according to his notes, the Doc was checking out my feet. He made some big fat assumptions about my hands while he was checking out my feet. He said I was pleasant. He also said most of my problem was imaginary, not related to my work injury, and primarily due to the aging process. I'm thinking he should have paid more attention to my hands. I'm not prone to violence, but now that my hands are feeling much better (thanks to the pain specialist doc who correctly diagnosed and is currently treating me) I'd really like to punch the foot fetish Doc in the nose!

Sigh of Relief!

Yes, Izzy, they do exist. Although not the cookie you tracked down, I do appreciate your interest about my cookie concern. I located them at Target in Sioux Falls yesterday. I bought two packages. I shall carefully ration them out. Probably. We'll see.

Not So Mad (about) Men

It's critically acclaimed. Art directed to a capital tee. Well-cast with authentic characters. Snappily written. Yet I found myself frowning less than halfway through the first episode. I was almost disappointed with myself for not liking Madmen! Maybe I just don't wish to return to the 1960's. Maybe it's an acquired taste. I was seriously offended by the gyno visit scene where newbie secretary Peggy Olson (Elisabeth Moss) is cautioned against becoming one of those girls when securing a prescription for birth control pills. Considering that the series takes place in the pre Roe v Wade era, I wondered if he was one of those docs who performed an atypical number of therapeutic D & C procedures on the side. Maybe it's because everybody is constantly smoking. Everywhere. In any case, I won't be joining the legions of Maddicts any time soon.

Climbing the Walls

My cat, Newton, defying gravity and walking on the wall in my bedroom. He's often camera-shy and it has proven difficult to catch him performing such amazing feats. Unlike Sir Isaac Newton, our Newt doesn't suffer under the burden of physics knowledge. Cats are reputed to be adept in the gnostic arts. When questioned, however, they evade our queries by asking if it's time for treats or request a belly rub.

Mystery Cookie

I'm pretty sure I didn't just imagine this cookie. That said, if I were to imagine a cookie, it would be this cookie. But I can't find it locally. Not even on the Pepperidge Farm website. Not on the Target website either! And Target is the store where I purchased the cookie in question nearly a month ago. I was in Rapid City, but are the residents of west coast South Dakota more deserving of delicious cookies than us east coast SD people? I would answer a resounding NO! It was a delectable, crisp, swirly shaped coconut cookie. The package said New!. Maybe so new it hasn't trickled down to my rural neighborhood yet. Coconut is one of those things that draws a line in the sand, you either love it or despise it. I fall on the love side of that particular line. If you have seen this cookie, too, please tell me I wasn't hallucinating. Thank you. Then bring me some.

Ladies @ the Knuckle

I thought you might enjoy a peek inside the ladies' room at the famed Knuckle Saloon in Sturgis, SD. I think this is called Industrial Nouveau. At least that's what I'm calling it.

Since you asked, yes, I did feel like a perv walking into the bathroom with a camera. Note the chain detail!

Just like your fancier stainless steel refrigerators, a matte finish that doesn't show fingerprints. And like your average fridge, there's stuff hanging up.

If it happened to slip your mind why you were at the Knuckle, there are conveniently placed event posters. So lovely of Red Willow to throw a concert on my birthday.

Hedging

Agonizing over rewriting my profile here to reflect recent developments in my life. I can testify to the fact that agonizing over the more minute details of one's life can successfully distract one from the enormous elephants hanging about the premises. Also, since my hands are feeling quite improved, I'm making teensy steps toward finally getting the shop and my laundry room organized. Not too quickly, mind you, as having these rooms remain in a state of disarray is my stubborn Norwegian-Lutheran hedge against death. Hey, we don't have Purgatory so we need something.

Irony

I received my prescription discount card in the mail today! Although it's really no good. It expired on its way to me. Since I was eligible for its use in conjunction with my workplace provided medical plan, and I no longer have a workplace not to mention a medical plan, I expect I'm out of luck. And I'm currently on a prescription medication for the first time in twenty years. I much prefer satire.

Monkee-ing Around

I steer clear of daytime television. I'd elaborate, but then I'd get derailed from what I actually want to tell you. The Goddess knows my attention span is short enough as it is lately! My first visit to the pain doc's office wasn't just productive as far as treatment is concerned. I was impressed with their exam/consultation room set-up. You are whisked off to one of these almost before you have an opportunity to seat yourself in the main waiting room. I have been in two different exam rooms now, and I expect all of them are outfitted in a similar fashion. Recliner as well as another couch or chair. Flat screen satellite tv with remotes right there! One-seater restroom right there! Current reading material. On my second visit I was more interested in my newspaper and shut off the tv. Many people aren't aware that this is possible, even in their own homes. On my first visit, though, The View was in progress and three quarters of the Pre-Fab Four were there! Mike Nesmith was absent. They had my attention. It seems the Monkees are doing a reunion tour this summer, sans Mike, but including a crack back-up band. The interview was engaging, and I enjoyed catching up on their personal and professional lives. So, which Monkee did you have a crush on? I was a tween when the show originally aired, and Davey appealed to most of the girls of my age. I was torn between Peter, who was quiet and sincere, and Mickey, who was raucous and wild. Apparently I have a long-standing issue with finding that middle ground. Kim, who lived next door to me when we were in fifth grade, had a thing for Mike, the only Monkee who was married. I thought she was seriously weird for her preference, and now wonder if she made a habit of choosing the one guy in the room who is unavailable. Three fourths of the Monkees also performed a couple of their hits on The View. While I was entertained by their interview segment, I was more than disappointed by their musical performance. Yes, their back-up band is excellent, but their vocals and stage antics were lackluster and seemed forced. If the Monkees 2011 tour comes to your fair city, I recommend staying home and watching them on dvd. Both seasons are available with interview bonus material. In this case, memorex beats live.