It's too hot to be subtle.

So, the new neighbors are all moved in and apparently they also have a pool.  This means MB and I now have to watch people frolicking in the cool, cool water on both sides of our house while we sit and sweat together, crying into our lukewarm beers, wishing our fish pond wasn't so damn small.  And green. 

I've already blown it with the neighbors on the other side and their pool.   

Atticus jumped the fence one day and and decided to run around their yard.  After many failed attempts at calling him back in the yard, I had to jump the fence too.  I spent the next 45 minutes running circles around their pool in my ratty pajamas and no bra, with a Frosty Paw in one hand and a leash in the other chasing a puppy who doesn't respect my authority.  I was using my sweetest voice to try and tempt Atticus back into the yard while trying to figure out how to pounce on him and drag him back home without anyone calling Animal Cops. 

Surprisingly, I never recieved my invitation to their pool party. 

I haven't had a chance to redeem myself with them either because Atticus has jumped the fence into their yard repeatedly since then. 

I've considered throwing his ball into their pool so he'll go in after it and then I have to go in and 'rescue' him.  I reconsidered after playing that one out in my head. 

It would likely end with Atticus knocking down the pool and sending a wave of water out into the park, knocking over the porta potty and everything in it's path.  The dog and I would end up covered in shit and chlorine, trying to dislodge empty beer bottles from very uncomfortable places. 

Did I mention that our park is pretty trashy? 

Yeah.  So, the ball plan is out.  Since I haven't come up with anything better yet, I've just given up on their pool.

I'm thinking that I may have a chance with the new neighbors though since they haven't seen me try to wrangle a disobedient puppy while also trying to discreetly wrangle my unrestrained boobs.  Also, their pool is not in the direct path of the porta potty, which bodes well for my bottle free butt.

My plan is to knock on their door with a welcome basket.  Of course I'll be wearing my bathing suit and swim goggles. 

Summer is almost over.  I don't have time to play games with these people. 

This is getting me farther and farther away from the pool.

So, my creepy neighbor is no more. 

He's not dead or anything.  He's just not living.  Not living in the house next door anymore.  I assume he's still living...somewhere. 

The important part of this story is that I finally feel free to leave my house without having to avoid making eye contact with him.  It's been really hard to feign such interest in the bird that hangs out in my chimney. 

Plus, I'm not good at it.  I always get caught.  Then, I have to pretend like I didn't notice him there because I was so interested in the freakin bird. 

Oh.  Sorry.  I was just noticing how grey and drab that little bird is.  See how he's just sitting there, doing absolutely nothing?  It's so intriguing that I couldn't tear myself away.  Sorry I didn't say 'hi' sooner, but this shit is riveting. 

I fool no one.  Not even myself. 

I fear that this feeling of comfort will be short-lived, as potential tenants are already swarming.  The days of hanging out in my backyard braless may soon be over. 

MB and I are a little nervous about who may move in.  We have decided that we should stage elaborate scenarios in an attempt to weed people out.  Since it's too freakin hot to do our own scheming, I sought the advice of my facebook friends. 

They were wide ranged, including insinuating that we eat little children, burying a carpet and bloody axe in the back yard, having my husband don his kilt and bare all.  That last one came from his firehouse buddies.  They love to reference the kilt. 

My lovely neice suggested I run around the yard in my pajamas chasing Atticus.  That's funny because I did just that in the other neighbor's yard not too long ago.  It didn't scare them off, but that's okay.  I'm trying to get into their good graces because they have a pool.  Sons of bitches. 

Anyway, as it turns out, I didn't need anyone's suggestions because I'm perfectly capable of making a horrible first impression on the potential new tenants all on my own. 

I was out in the yard last night with Atticus.  We were playing fetch and I was using my super sweet, 'good boy' voice to encourage his good behavior.  It happens so rarely, that I feel the need to over-praise.  Whatever works. 

While Atticus was fetching the one ball (we use 2 because he doesn't get the whole 'drop it' command  yet), I reached down to pick up the second ball.  All of a sudden, he comes charging across the yard and rams right into me with all of his fat little strength.  He knocked the wind right out of me and almost knocked me backwards into the fish pond. 

My super sweet 'good boy' voice took a turn and I let loose a slew of very unsweet words.  Words that would shame your mother.  This was all followed by a very loud grunt because getting socked in the crotch by 60 pounds of charging evil does not feel good. 

It was at that moment that I heard the voices of potential tenants on the other side of the fence.  Apparently, they had been outside touring the yard and had heard the entire thing. 

Awesome. 

I guess I should be happy they didn't get the full visual of me bent over, clutching my bitz and trying to regain my footing, lest I be covered in pond scum while the puppy runs away with a smug grin on his chubby little face. 

I'm thinking I might want these neighbors to move in.  Hell, it can only go up from here, right?

Random ramblings and reinforced borders.

So, I posted this on facebook earlier this morning...

I'm watching Intervention on Netflix. The next episode is a guy who's addicted to video games and a girl who's addicted to food. This one is going to be good. I'm going to grab some popcorn, oreos and a hot fudge sundae and watch it on one of MB's Xboxes.

Then, I proceeded to eat my lunch followed by a mini ice cream sundae. Self fulfilling prophecy? Maybe.

What else has been happening in my life?

Obviously the fat fighting has not been going so well. MB and I have not run all week. I haven't done Slim in 6 all week. It's been bad.

Actually, I did walk with the pup last week. I was visiting my family and I took the pup around the block with me. It didn't go well. My poor pup is definitely slowing down in her older years.

I'm not really ready to talk about that though. Tears and keyboards don't mix well.

Moving on...

We're putting up a new fence this weekend. By "we", I mean MB and the boys. I'll be supervising from a safe and comfortable distance. Probably from the lawn chair. Probably with a cold mug of beer. Supervisors have certain needs.

A fence is really going to change our lives. We will no longer have to worry about the intrusive neighbor peering over the fence to look into our yard. Yes, he does that. Yes, it's usually when I'm half naked on the couch watching Netflix. Yes, it skeeves me out.

We will no longer have to worry about the hooligans coming over the puny little excuse for a fence that we have now. Unless they suddenly learn how to scale a 6 foot fence, which I'm sure they will. The appeal of fishing in that overgrown excuse for a pond is just too much for them to resist.

I don't get it, but whatever.

As an aside, I'm still watching Intervention and I'm pretty sure the director of this rehab facility is addicted to tanning. Maybe she should start turning that wisdom inward?

So, in addition to a new fence, not much else is happening.

We're getting hitched in 101 days. Thankfully, theknot.com provides a countdown for me just in case I forget that I need to be freaking the hell out. Thanks Knot. Thanks a lot.

It's cool. I'm not freaking out. I'm actually getting excited. There's still a lot of crap to do and a lot of money to spend, but it'll be so worth it. We are going to have a blast.

I don't know what else to chat about. It seems that I had a bunch of clever things to say, but they all left my head.

Now, I have to go close the back door because the flies are taking over my house. I know the pup likes to wander in and out, but this is ridiculous. I also have to go close the toilet lid because apparently her wandering in and out makes her thirsty for toilet water. Gross.

Later, peeps.

I can't make this stuff up.

So, I almost died yesterday at the hands of a crazed serial killer.

Here's what happened...

I leave the lady doctor where I was thoroughly poked, prodded, felt up and told to lose weight.

Seriously. Every freakin time. Doc, do you really think I don't know that I'm fat. Come on.

Her advice? Every time? "Cut your food in half."

It seems so simple! Eat less?! What a concept!

I may need to find a new lady doctor who doesn't feel the need to insult my intelligence while also degrading me.

Anyway, I'm on my way home from the oh-so-insightful and invasive doctor when I see a lady standing in her yard, flagging me down. She's waving her arms, which are holding something that I can't quite distinguish, and I made eye contact.

First mistake.

Thinking that she was in dire distress and may be in need of my superb crisis intervention skills, I stop and roll down the window.

Second mistake.

What is she holding in her hands? Jumper cables. She wants to know if I can jump start her car.

Easy enough. Sure. Why not.

Third mistake.

She points to the side of her house and tells me that the car is just inside the gate and I should pull around so she can let me in.

Okay. I'll meet her over there.

Fourth mistake.

You know what else is just inside the gate? Chainsaws. Axes. Machetes. Shallow graves. Ears hanging on wind chimes while this lady's cannibalistic family enjoys a nice picnic lunch of...me!

Oh for the love of trying to be a good neighbor, why didn't I just pretend I don't speak english.

Or fake an irrational phobia of jumper cables and peel off as she waved them at me.

Or just say 'no', I'm not entering your yard/den of evil because I like my ears.

I am way too nice to people.

I pull over to the side of the completely fenced in area where I can hear her on the other side of the 6' fence, unlatching what seems to be an awful lot of very heavy metal locks.

Oh God. Am I really doing this?

No. Screw her. I'm driving away while I still have all of my skin...oh sh*t. Eye contact again.

Dammit.

I pull into the gate expecting to find the car right there, ready to be jumped and easy to access. Instead, I find two cars parked to my right, facing the fence with one empty space. For my car.

Fabulous.

It's the tightest parking spot I've ever seen.

Tighter than a frog's middle finger...or something.

The problem is that my space happens to be immediately to the right as you pull into the gate...between the second car and the fence. This means that I now have to pull up, do a 27 point turn and maneuver myself into that very narrow space while not hitting her house, fence, car or tweenage pajama clad daughter.

It's okay. She closed the gate behind me so I could do the maneuvering.

I'm now officially locked inside a crazy lady's yard.

O.M.G. This is it. This is how I'm going to die.

I'm going to be killed by a very crazy lady and her tweenage pajama clad daughter and bits of my body will become snacks for the cat hoarder's cats.

Gulp.

I don't say a word from this point on. My mouth is sealed shut with fear. I put on my best 'appease the crazy lady' fake smile and proceed to open my hood. As she hooks up the jumper cables and instructs her tweenager to 'gun it baby, just gun it', I position myself so that I can jump into the car, floor it through her fence and escape if the need arises.

I then rethink that plan in favor of one that allows me to call 911 because the crazy lady now has pliers in her hand. She uses these metal pliers to hold together the metal contact point thingy of the battery while her tweenager guns it.

Holy sh*t. I'm going to watch this woman die. Right here. It's going to happen. I'm going to see a crazy lady get electrocuted and there's nothing I can do about it.

Wait. Maybe I should be recording this.

Could this be my ticket to internet fame?

Unfortunately, no. While applying metal pliers to a car battery is not the best idea, it was actually effective. Especially when you have your pajama clad tweenager do it. Maybe the fuzzy parts of her Winnie the Pooh fleece provided the proper conduction.

I'm not a mechanic. I don't know about these things.

I do know that as soon as that car started up, I was ripping jumper cables off and throwing them at the crazy lady.

Good luck lady! Excuse me while I prepare for the 287 point turn that's going to get me the hell out of your yard and away from all of your crazy.

When I told MB about what a good neighbor I was, he rolled his eyes and walked away.

I'm pretty sure it was to cry in private at the thought of my demise via jumper cable wielding tweenagers in Winnie the Pooh pajamas. I'm not sure why he kept mumbling 'idiot' and 'jackass' though.

That just seems rude.

Pickin parties, feuds and body disposal. Oh, and birthday cake.

Did I tell you that I threw my Dad a surprise 80th birthday party?

Well, I did.

It was last Sunday and it was amazing!

Happy 80th Dad!

I invited the cousins from his hometown in West Virginia for a mini family reunion. A lot of them live up here where I live so it was pretty easy to get them to come over.

I also invited my half-brother and half-sister from West Virginia. We don't get to see them very often at all. They haven't met the cousins, so it was pretty cool for them to all get acquainted.

My Dad had no idea that all of his kids were coming. That was a total surprise! It was so much fun!

I had a houseful of family, food and music. My West Virginia cousins play bluegrass music and they all brought their instruments and played in the back yard. We had a couple guitars, a fiddle, an upright bass, a mandolin and a banjo.

It was a regular hoe down!

They are all very talented musicians. All self taught. Amazing. I'll talk more about them and my hillbilly heritage later though.

I wish I had some video to share with you. If my niece ever sends it to me, I'll post it. She's kind of slacking on that.

Ahem.

Anyway, the party went off without a hitch. Unless you count the drama caused by my crazy neighbor. Apparently, he decided that he was going to be in charge of the street for the afternoon. He came out of his house to yell at any of my family members who tried to park in front of his house.

On the public street in front of his house. His rented house.

Jackass.

MB is pretty sure he's doing meth. I know he's drinking. I also know he's a weirdo who overshares.

Yeah, it's that neighbor. Were you really surprised?

So, MB and I are now officially feuding with him.

If his kids even think about coming into our yard, knocking on our door or petting our dog, war will be declared.

Of course, now we think he may have killed one of his children and buried her in the fish pond. We realized that we haven't seen his daughter in months. It's very odd.

I already told MB that I will not be doing the inaugural pond cleaning of the season.

Also, if the police show up and start asking questions, I may not answer the door. Not until we get our new privacy fence put up. Or we get a big snarly attack dog.

Boundaries must be maintained, people.

On a more positive note, look who decided to come out of hibernation...

I don't see any bodies in there, do you?

No children or animals were harmed in the making of this post.

MB said that yesterday's post made me look like a bad person.

So, here I am trying to salvage my reputation.

I don't think I really need to, because most of you know me and you know that I'm not actually going to stab children.

Adults? Maybe.

However, MB is my unofficial, unpaid, after the fact editor.

First of all, if you didn't read yesterday's post, go read it.
I'll wait.

All caught up?

Awesome.


So, I didn't actually yell at the children. I just kinda grumbled at them. But, in a nice way. Not a curmodgeony way.

I didn't actually mock the neighbor's job either. Here's the conversation I had with the Cat Hoarder (whom I despise, btw):

Cat Hoarder (shoveling his driveway and noticing that I had just come home): How are the roads out there?

Me (shoveling my driveway and pretending not to feel stalked): Not too bad. All the main roads are clear.

CH: That's good. As long as I can make it to the grocery store.

Me: You should be okay. You're a brave man for going to the grocery store today.

CH: (mumbling something about working there and abruptly ending the conversation)

Me: (continuing to shovel and pretending not to be an asshole)

See? I never mocked him. I simply commented on his bravery for going to the grocery store the day after a blizzard. All the pajama wearing jackasses would be out stocking up on bread, milk and twinkies.

Also, I'm pretty sure he would wear pajamas to the grocery store. Just saying.

How the hell am I supposed to know where he works anyway? I despise the guy. Despise. It's not like we are facebook friends and I know all about his employment.

Sheesh.

Plus, he's the push up guy! The push up guy!

Yeah.

Next time, I will stab him. Just because.

But, I still won't stab any children.

If I only had a knife.

So, I got approximately 1 hour sleep last night. As you may be aware, I spent the night at work due to the weather and my inability to get home without dying in a snowbank somewhere.

My pup also spent the night with me because I couldn't leave her home alone for 16hours. It's inhumane.

I'll spare you the details, but I basically slept (tried to) in a crappy office chair, gave up due to back discomfort of doom, relocated to the apparently concrete floor, slept in a freezing cold room next to a farting pup, trying not to move at all for fear of awakening said farting pup and having to walk her in the snowpacolypse for the 700th time that night.

Restful.

When I left at 7am to return home and curl up in bed, I was greeted with the task of shoveling my driveway which was knee deep in snow with a lovely 2 foot pile of the plow truck's droppings in front.

If I could've just left my car parked in the middle of the street and gone to bed, I totally would have. Judgey neighbors and their self righteous know it all smirks prevented me from doing that.

So, I found myself trying to shovel through the 2 foot pile of snow sh*t in order to just get my freakin car out of the middle of the street. Once I accomplished that, I then had to shovel enough room for MB to park the jeep when he got home so the neighbors wouldn't be all judgey with him.

Grrrr.

Sleep deprivation and physical labor do not mix. Sleep deprivation and hunger do not mix. Sleep deprivation and back pain of doom do not mix. Sleep deprivation and lack of showering do not mix. Combine all of these things with social interaction and you get the perfect storm for a stabbing.

I'm pretty sure I yelled at my neighbor's kids the fourth time they asked if they could shovel for me. What I really wanted to do was collapse on the couch while they did all the work for me. However, I am unofficially feuding with them and therefore trying to keep my distance.

I also think I accidentally mocked my other neighbor for working in a grocery store. It's kinda okay because I don't like the cat hoarding bastard. It's kinda not okay because he was actually just making pleasant conversation with me for the first time in the 4 years we have been neighbors.

I redeemed myself with the kid because when he came knocking on my door while I was 'on break' and asked again if he could help, I gave in. Then I had to end my break and shovel with him or else it would've been child labor. Or something. I gave him $5.

Of course, that broke my unofficial feud and the accompanying distancing. He interpreted this as being able to jump my fence with his entire family and run through my yard later that afternoon. I think they were looking for their dog who had also jumped the fence. I don't really care.

Boundaries were crossed. I want my $5 back.

I also need to find a new grocery store or wear a disguise when I shop there now that I know the cat hoarder works there.

Sleep deprivation has pretty much ruined my life.

Awesome.

Nice weather we're having. Wanna be my personal therapist?

There has been a breach. A boundary breach.

So, I think you are all aware that I have some teensy weensy issues with a couple of my neighbors. Not sure what I'm talking about? Then, click on 'my neighbors are assholes' in my labels and you will get the idea.

Yeah.

We pretty much have one neighbor that we actually speak to on our block.
One.
We have unofficial feuds with everyone else for various reasons.

The one neighbor has a hundred cats that he doesn't take care of and then conveniently disowns when animal control shows up. He also did push ups at me. Menacingly.

The other guy has a kid who pees in my back yard and the inability to keep his freakin dog in the house or capture said dog once it escapes and has been running around the neighborhood for an hour.

The owner of the house being rented out next door said we were lazy because we haven't fixed up our house to his liking when in fact we are just poor and he is apparently a jackass who discriminates against the poor.

The one guy also has dog issues and allows his old dog to wander around unattended without concern for the fact that he is old and could easily get hit or hurt or anything.

I heart old dogs and I feel they should be treated properly. Proper treatment is to keep them inside, cozy and safe where they can be spoiled. It's the right thing to do.

The other people keep to themselves so we have no beef with them. Plus, they have a really old bloodhound who stands on the porch and tries to howl, but just can't anymore. It sounds kinda like a children's toy that's been stepped on a few too many times. I love that dog.

The one neighbor we actually talk to is the same neighbor who was kind enough to help me with my pipes (not a euphemism) that one day. Since that incident, he has been sending his kids over to get various items - cup of sugar (again, not a euphemism), stick of butter, cup of oil. Things like that.

Now, as a dessert addict, I can't help but put all of those ingredients together in my head and see the potential for cake. Have we been delivered a cake yet? No.

So, what the hell are they making? I have no idea. I just know that we keep getting random visits for random ingredients. This is in addition to the random visits from the youngest boy who wants to feed the fish.

I have no problem with him feeding the fish. However, I do have a problem with children ringing my doorbell all hours of the night and day asking if they can feed the fish.

It usually occurs when I am a)naked, b)in the shower and naked, c)dying my hair and naked with dye dripping onto my face, d) weighing in and therefore naked (duh), e)asleep, f)braless which is pretty much naked.

There is a lot of naked time in my household. Don't judge us. It's why we have blackout curtains on every window.

MB also gets annoyed because he experiences the fish feeding inquiries at random hours and while naked. MB is pretty much naked all the time though. There is no good time to pop in on MB. Just fyi.

Pop in visits are annoying, but tolerable. When you combine them with personal overshares, it becomes a package that I'm just not interested in.

I currently know way too much about my neighbor's mental health, substance abuse issues, relationship issues, family dramas and sexual traumas.

That's right. That's not a typo.

I will spare you the details, but let's just say that I can not look him in the eye anymore without getting some very graphic mental images.

Ick. Just ick.

Now, I didn't solicit any of this information. It was all shared during casual conversations in the yard.

Pulling weeds: "I've been sober for 9 days now. It's really hard to quit drinking."

Feeding the birds: "I'm off of work for a little while for depression."

Walking the dog: "My wife left me and took the kids."

Fixing the pipes (again...minds out of the gutter, please): "I was raped by my brother in law."

I can't make this sh*t up. It just happens and then I'm left standing there, looking for an excuse to run back inside and hide.

This week, the man has been stalking me for baked goods. I casually mentioned that I was going to bake some stuff for him and his family. Every day since that casual conversation, he has been right there in my face as soon as I set foot in the yard. "Where's my dessert?"

Seriously.

It kinda made me want to put rat poison in his banana bread.

I didn't. Don't worry. I just may have used a really unripe banana. Like the greenest banana I could find in the grocery store. I hear that makes people sick.

We'll find out, I'm sure.

If alcoholism and sexual trauma are acceptable topics for discussion, I would imagine that vomiting and diarrhea would be too.

So, the question is...moat full of snapping turtles or barbed wire fencing?
What do you think?

I think we failed the initiation.

So, we were running last night and we almost got stabbed and dumped in a ditch somewhere while our thumbs were mailed to our mothers.

That's what happens to you if you get killed by a gang member, right?

I could me mistaken.

So, MB and I are doing our cool down walk home after running around the neighborhood when a car passes by us. Slowly.

MB looks at the driver as he passes and says "That guy is AB - negative*."

*That isn't what he actually said because as talented as MB is, he can not actually identify someone's blood type just by looking at them. Although, that would be a really cool superpower - with very practical applications.
What he actually said was the name of a gang. For the sake of my mother not receiving my thumbs in the mail along with her Christmas card, I'm using this name in lieu of the actual gang name.
In the off chance that gang members are reading Girly Bitz.

Moving on...

MB says this with confidence because he has the pleasure of dealing with a wide variety of gangs in his role as Paramedic Extraordinaire**.

**That's what I'm going to name him when he decides to develop his blood type identification powers and become a superhero. I may have to shorten it a little so it'll fit on his leotard though.

Moving on once again...

He definitely knows how to identify the members of various gangs, which is pretty scary. I try not to think about that aspect of his job. It's bad enough that he runs into burning buildings.

After MB tells me this, of course, I turn around to look. Because I am nothing if not discreet. And street savvy.

Me: (way too loudly) "Really? AB - negative? How can you tell?"

The car that is already moving slowly hits it's brakes. As I see the brake lights come on, MB says "Oh sh*t" and grabs my arm.

We are rounding the corner to our home and they say most gang murders/thumb removals occur within a mile of your home. I think that's the statistic.

I could be mistaken.

The AB - negative member has now pulled over to the curb as we are walking faster and faster. It's amazing what the threat of a good knife slashing will do to increase your cardio level.

MB is looking back the entire time to make sure we don't get jumped. He is also very street savvy and not at all obvious.

Thankfully, we made it to the front door without incident.

I can't account for the residents of the house Mr. AB - negative was parked in front of though. Hopefully their digits are still intact.

I think MB and I are going to modify our running route a little.

Especially if MB decides to pursue this superhero thing and starts running in his leotard. I would imagine gang members would target leotard wearers harshly. Just because.

High waders and personal overshares.

So, I've been sporting high waders all day today but not for fashion reasons.

My day started out like this: 'Oh dear. Why is there water on the kitchen floor again? I thought I cleaned that up last night. Where on earth could it be coming from?'

Just a little tip - if you start the day asking yourself that question or any similar question, just run to the nearest bar and don't look back.
Seriously.

I had cleaned up a wet kitchen floor last night, thinking it was from my dishwasher or something. When I awoke to find more water everywhere, I actually had to investigate and find out what was going on.

So, I called my Dad.

He said it could be the drip tray under the fridge.

Cool. Easy enough. Drip tray. Just pull it out, empty it and put it back under the drain.

No problem.

Except that I couldn't get the drip tray out because I couldn't get the water filter out and that is blocking the drip tray.

Minor snag.

I pulled the fridge out thinking I could get to the drip tray from the back instead.

That's when I notice the water spraying from some tube that connects to the back of my fridge.

Dammit.

I text MB.

He is teaching a class of firefighter recruits and is not really able to help.

I decide to try and fix the problem myself. It can't be that hard. I just have to find the duct tape.

Duct tape doesn't work because the leak is too strong.

Dammit.

Okay. What would my Dad do? He's like a hillbilly genius who can fix anything with anything.

Chewing gum? No.

Super glue? No.

I know! Why don't I cut the hose just above the leak and then reattach it to the other part? That is a super smart plan.

I cut the hose. Even more water sprays out all over my kitchen.

I try to reattach it but it doesn't fit into the little thingy like it's supposed to. I take the box cutter and the tweezers and try to make it fit by cutting the little thingy.

I end up stabbing myself in the thumb. Thank God for the duct tape or I would've bled all over my repair job.

Okay. My plan is not working. At all.

I make a trip to Lowe's to get a new hose. After shutting off the water to the hose so it doesn't keep spraying all over my kitchen.

I warn the pup to not touch a single thing while I am gone. This is futile because when I come back, whatever mystery items under the fridge that may or may not have been food were gone.

I guess they were food.

So, I've got the part I need and I get to work. I go downstairs where the pipes are and unhook the one valve so I can put the new valve on.

Big mistake.

Water gushing everywhere! Everywhere!

Holy sh*t!

I run next door and grab my neighbor. He is super nice and comes over to help me, not knowing that he is about to be soaked.

He's trying to fix the valve and getting drenched by gushing water while I am frantically trying to find the main water line shut off valve.

This includes me calling MB and telling him that I need to know how to shut the water off RIGHT NOW! He then repeats this out loud to his class of firefighter recruits who proceed to laugh hysterically.

That call doesn't end well.

After more frantic phone calls and about 20 minutes, I find the valve and shut the water off.

Of course, we are standing in ankle deep water in my basement now.

Awesome.

My soaking wet neighbor then proceeds to spend the day helping me fix the hose line because he is super nice.

Of course, the first hose line doesn't fit. The second one is missing a piece. The third one has the right piece but we drop it and lose it in the flood waters. The fourth one is the one.

I sneak in my house and attach it myself because I have a feeling that the piece we lost is not the piece we need. I feel like the rubber piece I told him to use in the first place is the piece we need.

However, he isn't going to listen to me after I was stupid enough to start this project without shutting off the main water line and then even stupider because I didn't know where the main shut off valve even was.

I see where he's coming from. That's why I didn't push the issue about the rubber piece.

I just covertly put the rubber piece in, attach the valve and turn the water on to find that I was right all along about the rubber piece.

Moving on...my day was spent running back and forth to the hardware store and then sloshing around in my basement while my nice neighbor overshared about his life as I watched him fix my hose thingy.

I would love to tell you about his overshare, but I just can't do it. Once someone subjects themselves to gushing water and commits to helping you fix said gushing water all day, you owe them their privacy.

Trust me, though. It's a doozy!

Anywaytoomuchinformation, my evening was spent sopping up water with a rented shop vac and crying because some of MB's very personal keepsakes had gotten broken during the catastrophe.

He said I was crying so I wouldn't be mad at him.

Whatever.

It's now almost 11pm. I've been in and out of the spider cubby. I've been sloshing around in yucky spidery water. I've been in and out of various hardware stores trying not to have a nervous breakdown. I've sopped up just about as much water as I can for the night.

It's time for me to shower away the wetness and stress of my day and crash on the couch until the clean up resumes tomorrow.

Oh joy.

So, how was your day?

No cookies for you!

Remember how I was just ranting about the inflatable monstrosities taking over my neighborhood?

Well, guess what I now have the pleasure of looking at every morning?

Yep.

This is my view every morning while feeding the fishes and letting the dog out...


And this is my view every day when I come home...


This guy was supposed to be my 'nice' neighbor.

He's totally off the Christmas cookie list.

Evil plastic cats and crappy candy.

So, this is what greets me as I come into my neighborhood now...


Awesome, right?

Keep in mind this is the googled version. I can't take a picture of the actual cat because that particular homeowner has security cameras.

Yeah.

I'm starting to have serious episodes of neighbor hatred. The kind of hatred that makes me want to take a knife to the giant cats and pumpkins and witches that are popping up everywhere.

Remember when I had similar episodes last Christmas?
Click here to relive the drama.

All caught up?

Good.

Don't get me wrong. I love Halloween. It's my favorite holiday. I love scary movies, haunted houses, ghost stories, and of course candy. Duh!

I could do without the hooligans who trick or treat in my neighborhood, but it's okay. I give them the crappy dollar tree candy. You know - Skattles, Twizzlesticks, Sweetards, Buttertoes.

The generic stuff.

Hey, they're lucky I'm not giving them grapes.

The good stuff goes to the cute little kids who say please and thank you and don't run across my lawn.

Jackass hooligans. Grrr.

Anyminikitkatsmmmmm, I always decorate. Later this week, there will be ghosts and pumpkins and witches all over the house. Except for the man cave. MB won't let me decorate down there.

It's like he hates children. Weird.

So, I think some serious retaliation is in order.

I'm thinking of just filling my yard with pumpkins. Real ones. Jack-o-lanterns are what Halloween is all about. I challenge anyone to choose between a jack-o-lantern and a crappy inflatable cat that may or may not be possessed.

Seriously. I think that cat may actually come to life at night and wreak havoc on the neighborhood. It totally explains why my gutter fell down again.

Evil cat sabotage.

It also explains the giant paw prints on my roof.

If that evil thing starts mating with the cat hoarder's cats, It's war! All I need are a bunch of plastic hybrid cats running around.

So, I don't know how I'm going to handle this whole thing. I was kinda happy because no one on my street had put up inflatables. That happiness was shattered.

I have new neighbors moving in on the one side. Before they even moved their stuff in, they had put an inflatable pumpkin in the front yard. I saw the deflated pile of orange hideousness lying next to the driveway.

If this is how they want to introduce themselves to the neighborhood, that's fine with me. At least I don't have to waste time wondering if I'll like them or not.

I'm pretty sure the answer is no.

It's not just the deflated pumpkin. It's the Jerry Springer style argument they had while moving stuff in last night. I don't know which one is the baby mama, but she was not happy and we all had to hear about it.

Anywhosthedaddy, at least there is a bright side to this whole thing. While I was googling pictures of the inflatable cat (I can't take a pic of the actual cat because the cat guy has security cameras), I think I found my Halloween costume!



I love it!

It's second best to the costume that I long to have one day when I am skinny enough to make it look good...


Next year. (sigh)
And yes...MB is totally going to be Alfred Hitchcock.

Absolutely no peeing in or around the hydrangeas!

Yesterday, I mentioned that I got my property tax bill for the year and that the school portion of it was a little high for my taste. $919.02 too high to be exact.

Let me just say that I realize there are people out there paying way more than that for schools and school taxes and whatnot. My friend in PA told me she pays $5500 for her kids who aren't even in school yet. That's in addition to the $1000 day care bill she has.

I am sending my friend whiskey and cupcakes to ease her financial stress and make everything better.
If you are having similar woes, I will also send you whiskey and cupcakes.

Anythatsthekindoffriendiam, I am still perturbed about this high tax bill. I think that MB can sum it up best. This is his reply to a friend in defense of our bitching about the tax bill:
"...you wouldn't be saying that if you saw the school district that this money goes to. These kids don't have textbooks for gods sake, so the question needs to be asked...where the hell does the money go to? And how the hell can a responsible government raise taxes when incomes are down across the board? The problem is not the money, thats just a symptom. The problem is the government is so out of touch on every level, that it's not even funny anymore." - From the mouth of MB

He's so smart. And really handsome. He's pretty much the whole package. If he carried cupcakes and whiskey around...

Anyagirlcandreamcantshe, I've decided that I'm going to make the neighborhood delinquents earn their $919.02. Why do they deserve to earn it, you might ask? Well, go here and you'll get the idea.
That's just one example of their jackassery.

So, here is what I will be expecting of them in order to make up for the $919.02 I am forking over for their education:
*the ability to solve word problems at a moment's notice.
*regular cutting of my grass.
*regular trimming of my weeds.
*the ability to identify verbs in the random sentences I will be shouting out.
*absolutely no peeing in or around my yard.
*absolutely no 'fishing' in the fish pond.
*the ability to spell words like oleaginous (it means oily) without asking for country of origin.
*regular cleaning out of my car and Jeep.
*absolutely no cats in my yard at any time.
*no knocking on my door or stalking me as soon as I pull in the driveway to ask if you can feed the fish or pet the dog.
*identify the capital of whatever city I shout out as I shout it out.
*absolutely no running through my yard or jumping my fence, I don't care who's chasing you with a watergun.

I don't see any down side to this plan.

Mariachi dreams, mutilated puppy feet and bargain dessert.

Hey there, peeps.

I'm back and I'm migraine free!

Yay!

Thanks for all the well wishes. Much appreciated. For those of you who commented that you suffer from The Beast also, I'm so sorry. I feel for anyone who has to battle The Beast. Anytime you need to commiserate, I'm your woman.

Anyway, on to happier things.

I had a pretty interesting week.

Wanna hear about it?

Awesome. I thought you might.

Let's start with the peeing.

So, I'm standing in my yard on Wednesday afternoon watching the pup run around and listening to the neighborhood boys playing football on the other side of the fence. For some reason, they enjoy playing ball right behind my privacy fence. There is an entire park that expands out to the right of my house and around, complete with plenty of open space as well as a tennis court, soccer field, basketball court and softball field. But, nooooo. They have to play right behind my house and my fence where they are conveniently heard but not seen by myself and their parents.

Anyhooligans, on this particular day, they were playing football and completely overusing the eff word. I guess they think it's cool.

Whatever.

So, one boy stands to the side of my fence and decides to pee. As I'm watching.

My response: "You have got to be kidding me!"

His response: "Oh sh*t!"

He then zips up rather quickly and returns to the game, somewhat embarrassed but not nearly enough for my taste. I can only assume I was the bitch they were then referring to.

They are so lucky our hose is crap or they would've been watered to within an inch of their little lives.

Bastards!

What else happened?

I got to play with puppies. 3 day old Chocolate Lab puppies.

All together now: Awwwwww.

Yep. Adorable.

MB was super afraid to let me go see the litter which belonged to a friend's mother in law. He was convinced I would not be able to control myself.

Let me tell you, it was difficult. I love puppies.

I so wanted to stick a couple of them in my purse and run like hell. Especially when the owner asked our one friend if he would trim the dew claws for her. If you don't know what that is, it's the little claw on the side of the leg just above their little feet. Apparently, some people remove those.

Imagine a little tiny 3 day old puppy foot. Now imagine taking that little tiny precious puppy foot and hacking off part of it. Barbaric!

When she started asking if we knew anyone that would do it because she didn't want to pay the vet the $23 per puppy to have him do it, I grimaced.

She will forever be known as Cruella to me now.

I didn't steal any puppies, but I really wanted to.

Oh well, what else?

MB and I took the pup hiking today. That was super fun.

We were only out of breath for a little bit. That's good considering we haven't hiked the trails since last year. Our goal is to hike at least once a week and to go backpacking. We might even join a local hiking club.

He also wants us to go camping. Like real camping. The kind where you carry everything in your backpack, hike in and camp and hike back out. Provided you are not lost and then hunted by a pack of cannibalistic inbred serial killers who want you for an afternoon snack. I've seen way too many crappy horror movies to feel good about this plan.

I am very excited about our future camping trip though. Mostly because MB got a really nice hiking backpack with all these cool compartments and pockets. In my head, I'm already planning out where to put all of our stuff. Don't tell MB, but I may have already started making lists, too.

I know, I have a sickness.

Here are some other highlights of my week:

-I found out that the cat hoarder is getting annoyed with his own cats and wants to take them to the shelter. It's about damn time.

-I also found out that the neighbor we like may or may not have intentionally fed the cats rat poison. (shudder)

-MB fired up the smoker and made bacon wrapped chicken. Bacon wrapped chicken. As much as I love it, I actually haven't had any yet. Restraint is a wonderful thing.

-I did not punch my super crazy and delusional coworker in the face this week. That's all I'm going to say about that.

-I got a pair of really nice flip flops for $4.98. They are normally $30 and up.

-Dairy Queen, which is right across the street, is having a sale on blizzards. Buy one, get one for 25 cents. I have not been there every day. Impressive, right?

-I discovered dried cantaloupe. It's delish. You should really try it.

That's about all I've been up to.

Hope you guys are having wonderful weekends.

I hope your neighbors are not blasting mariachi music at 11:30pm. Did I mention that's what my neighbors are doing?

Yep.

If I don't decide to go over there and smash their stereo, I will be letting the thumping of the bass lull me to an angry sleep.

Good night all.

Push ups of evil intent.

War is on with the neighbors once again.

I have spoken about my neighbor issues here and here and...well, just click on the 'my neighbors are assholes' label and you'll get the picture.

I have an ongoing beef with one particular neighbor.

The cat hoarder.

That's one of his evil felines on the hood of my freshly waxed Jeep, positioning to attack.

The cat hoarder is also known as the push up guy.

Why, you ask?

Well, one day as I was innocently doing dishes at my kitchen window, I happened to glance into the front yard. I was very shocked to find my nasty, greasy neighbor in my driveway, doing push ups.

Yes, push ups in my driveway.

Weird, huh?

It gets weirder.

He was doing push ups at me. Yes, at me. I didn't even know that was possible until I saw it with my very own frightened little eyes.

He was facing me and staring directly at me. His psychotic little grin intensified with each push up. Then he just got up and went back to playing football in the street with his wife and kid.

Then he made out with his wife in the middle of the street.

He's a winner.

After locking all the doors and windows and texting the bizarre incident to MB, I decided to begin my official shunning of this particular weirdo neighbor.

I had been unofficially shunning him for awhile, but now it was official.

Shunned.

No unshunning in sight.

So, the hatred has continued with no resolution. I glare at him whenever I see him and he pretends not to notice. We don't associate with each other, except through the gossip our nice neighbor so kindly provides us with.

The only time we've ever spoken to him is when MB went over there to tell him to keep his effing cats out of our effing yard.

That was super hot but completely ineffective.

The cats have continued to be a terror. The little black one pictured above has been seen sticking his paw right in the fish pond, trying to catch a tasty bite.

Today, we discovered that he caught one. We found the evidence this morning in our driveway.

The first fatality of my feud with the neighbors.

I have now declared war.

I am not sure which of their children will be the first sacrificed. I think it may have to be the kid whose face is imprinted in my wire fence (see the link above). I may just decide to go right to the top and take out Mr. Push Up himself though. Why play around.

Of course, I have no intention of taking out the cats. They are innocent victims as far as I'm concerned. If the greasy weirdo would just take care of the 14 cats he has decided to take into his home, they wouldn't have to be scavengers in my pond.

MB wants to shoot them but I'm not having it. If Animal Control won't step up, I'm just going to box them up and take them to the SPCA. Of course, I'd have nightmares that they were being put down due to overcrowding.

Most likely what will happen is that I will put a net over the pond and continue to throw rocks at the cats (aiming poorly, of course) until they run away.

As much as I hate what they are doing, I can not hate them. The animal lover in my just won't allow it. I want to befriend them and feed them and hold them and love them. But, I can't. Not 14 of them. If it was just 1, then maybe. Not 14.

So, I will have to continue taking my anger out on the greasy cat hoarding push up guy until I am satisfied.

Do you think putting a dead fish in his mailbox is over the top?

Doesn't matter. Too late now.

Snow Hoe, revisited.

In avoidance of weighing in and in honor of the snowfall we are currently receiving (as proven by my lovely pic), I am reposting my snow hoe story. For those of you who have already read it, go get some tea or something while everyone else can enjoy.

As I fully expect that snow removal will present similar issues this time around, you can expect updated rantings.

Snow Hoe, originally written 1/29/09.

So, as you know, we've had some snow recently. The first day of this snowfall, my betrothed casually commented on the fact that most of our neighbors had already shoveled their driveways. This sparked a discussion in which I encouraged him to do the same and reminded him that our division of chores is this: he has the outside (except for landscaping and pond duties and apparently trash, mail, dog clean up and removal of mangled gazebos) and I have the inside.

So, in my mind, I saw the outcome of this conversation as: MB donning his warm weather gear, trekking out to the shed to see if we have a snow shovel, running up to Home Depot if we didn't have one and then tackling the driveway and all other pathways around the house.
What actually happened is that MB was gracious enough to scrape off my car so that I could trek to Shop Rite for groceries.
So, when I returned home yesterday, I decided that I better tackle the snow removal as I knew it was going to rain and I didn't want to worry about ice in the morning. The pup and I have already been struggling to maneuver in the slippery conditions and I wanted to avoid any future accidents. I already had bruises from a nasty slip down the steps inside while carrying laundry to the basement.
I donned my warm weather gear and trekked out to the shed to retrieve the snow shovel that I was sure we had. Of course, we did not. My neighbor* (not the nice one) was also out in his shed, prepping to do the same thing I was.

Now, of course, I didn't want to look like a jackass because I didn't have a snow shovel and since I am unofficially feuding with this particular neighbor, I could not ask to borrow his shovel. So, I had to search my shed for the next best thing. That ended up being a garden hoe.
So, I head out with my hoe.

I wasn't quite sure how this was going to work out so I started in the back of the house, so as to avoid any unnecessary embarrassment right off the bat.

For small ice removal jobs, the hoe is actually very efficient. I was able to clear the patio and the steps down to the deck. I started to clear a path on the deck when I discovered the one flaw in using the hoe for ice removal (because it is a genius move in all other respects). When using the hoe in this manner on a deck or other surface with multiple cracks between the boards, it is vital that you not swing the hoe too forcefully. This results in the hoe becoming wedged between boards and the user of said hoe having to then scramble for footing to avoid sliding off the deck, into the grill, projectiling it into the table and then into the mangled pile that once was a lovely gazebo.
So, the back steps were at least clear enough that the pup could safely get down to the deck and to the yard. I was so proud of myself that I decided to tackle the front of the house. My goal was to clear a path to the car and then clear the driveway and then clear the sidewalk in front of the yard. However, my neighbor (not the nice one) was in the front shoveling not only his driveway and sidewalk, but the street in front of his house, my house and the nice neighbor's house.
Holy cow! Was this guy really trying to upstage me and my hoe with his fancy little snow shovel?! I mean, come on, does he really think clearing my part of the street is going to end our unofficial feud?! And, does he really think I'm going to notice that he's spending an inordinate amount of time on my section of the street, almost as if to say 'see how I'm going out of my way for you, and aren't you even going to show some appreciation for all that I'm doing for you even though I secretly hate you'. I wasn't going to play his little games. I was not going to let this happen. I got my little hoe and started chipping away at the ice on the front walk.
I'd like to say that this worked well and I was able to clear everything as I had envisioned. In fact, it didn't work all that well at all and my pride got the best of me.

I'd like to say that I gave it a whole hearted effort and spent a lot of time in this effort. All in all, I was probably out there for 10 minutes, and that's being generous. I could no longer continue to hoe the driveway while that bastard was clearing off the street, watching my every move and probably feeling really good about himself. I packed it in and took my hoe inside in defeat. I would just have to deal with the ice in the morning and hope that I didn't slide the Jeep into the fish pond.
I just put on my pj's (yes, at 5:30pm) and watched the neighbor freeze his butt off while I was snuggly in my fuzzy slippers. I am a little ashamed to admit that there was a small part of me that hoped he would be nice enough to shovel my driveway while he was out there, but that didn't happen. And, believe me, I kept looking out there just in case. I was even planning in my head whether to offer him cash or hot tea if he actually did it. But, of course, I didn't have to make that choice.
Bastard.

*This neighbor has since been evicted for not paying his rent and has received all the comeuppance I feel he deserves. Sometimes the universe likes me.

Im no scrooge.

My neighbor who wanted to use my overgrown mystery bush as part of her Christmas light display is trying to make me look like a jackass.
Granted, they wanted to trim the bush, which has been in desperate need of trimming for 2 years. They didn't even ask for any payment. Not that we would have offered. We're not stupid. Free labor is free labor.
Although MB did suggest that we give them cookies this year. They just moved in for crying out loud! And Christmas cookies is not a 'we' thing. It's 'me' in there baking and decorating. Not 'we'.
I already plan on giving the nice neighbor cookies since he gave us his mutant garden vegetables all summer long. Seriously, I have never seen a zucchini so big in my entire life (giggity). He also gave us rum cake, which was delicious. And he throws rocks at the cats when they get in our yard and we aren't there to scare them off. And he gives us all the gossip we could ever ask for.
He's like the best neighbor ever.
If only we knew his name. It's been 2 years and I think his name is Bill. So far, I've been able to avoid actually using his name. If I ever have to though, I'm just going to call him Bill. That may make him suspicious that I'm going through his mail since we have never introduced ourselves to each other. But, I don't care. It's still Bill as far as I'm concerned.
So, back to the wierdo on the other side.
Who the hell just volunteers to trim someone else's bushes?
People trying to show us up, that's who. People who think they are better than us and want everyone to know it.
I'm not a bad person just because I don't trim my bushes. There are plenty of other things I do that make me a bad person. Neglected landscaping is not at the top of the list.
Those bastards not only trimmed the bush (which looks great, by the way - we should have done it months ago), they decorated it too. I knew she wanted to put lights on it. I was okay with that. But, these lights are not festive. They are just spiteful.
I gave them free reign to decorate that bush and make it part of their Christmasy little yard. What do they do? Decorate half the bush. The half on their side.
It's a slap in the face. As if to say 'see how we are the better neighbors because we care about how our side looks'. 'Those losers have no Christmas spirit.' 'No soul.' 'You should all hate them and their undecorated yard.' 'We do.'
Well, I have news for them - we hate them too. Now.
It didn't have to be like this. I was trying to be gracious. And this is the thanks I get. If she thinks I'm putting lights on my side of that crappy bush, she is sadly mistaken.
And if she thinks she's getting anything other than floor cookies, she is also mistaken.
Merry Christmas bastards!

And so it begins.

Crappy inflatable Santas are popping up already. And I'm not happy.
Stupid giant blow up snow globe to the right. Tacky giant blow up reindeer to the left.

And what's in the middle? Nothing. That's right, people. I'm not playing. I refuse to become part of the jackassery that is the neighborhood Christmas decoration contest.

It's 50 bucks, people. I'll give you 50 bucks right now if you take the crap down.

I'm not saying you shouldn't decorate. Decorations are awesome. Who doesn't love Christmas lights and plastic reindeer?
Terrorists, that's who. But that's a rant for another day.

Nobody likes giant inflatable things in the yard. Nobody.

Unless it's a giant moon bounce. Or a giant inflatable hot tub.

Ick. Scratch that. I just had a mental image of hot tubbing with my redneck neighbor who threatened me by doing push ups at me in my driveway.
True story. Did you know you could do push ups at someone? Me either, but it's surprisingly intimidating. And super disturbing.

So, yeah, nobody likes giant inflatable things of any kind in the yard. Although moon bounces are always fun. Always.

Come to think of it, you could totally make a moon bounce Christmasy.
Tinsel. Mistletoe. Lights. Well, maybe not lights. Or lights but also lots of fire extinguishers. With tinsel.

And plastic reindeer. Ones that shoot flames at you if you don't bring the proper moon bounce admission fee.
It's not free, people. I don't like you all that much.

This could be the best Christmas idea ever.
Screw you bastards! That 50 bucks is mine!

And just try and sabotage my prize winning moonbounce.
Flame shooting reindeer, people. Flame shooting reindeer.

Barely a bagful.

This is a rant that only dog owners will truly appreciate. But anyone who enjoys hearing about my embarrassment will enjoy. (Thanks alot for your continued support.)
So, I'm walking the pup around the block since she is freaking out and this is the only legal means for me to calm her.
I am armed with my grocery bag in one hand and my little poop bag dispenser on her leash in the other hand. Two sets of bags are required as she often chooses to humiliate me several times in one outing. Thus requiring me to carry a larger bag in which to contain the many smaller bags.
She is my precious little princess, after all and I am but her humble servant.
My pup often evokes a response wherever she goes. Sometimes it's strangers commenting on her beauty (seriously, she's quite stunning), children wanting to pet the 'snow dog' or idiots who want to ask my favorite question: "Is that a wolf? It looks like a wolf." (Yes, it is a wolf. Hungry for the blood of all those who think they deserve to be on top of the food chain. Asshole.)
Most of the time, she simply gets responses from all the dogs we pass. She apparently causes quite a stir in these animals as they can not refrain from barking and lunging at her. She, of course, is oblivious. Partly because she is hard of hearing but mostly because she feels superior to them. In her mind, the peasants should want her to acknowledge them, but she has better things to do. They are so not worthy of her attention.
Sometimes when the dog trying to get her attention is bigger and more snarly than she is, it makes her a little nervous. I think it's PTSD from her previous attacks (stupid neighbor and his vicious dog).
During these flashback episodes, she resorts to her only tactic - marking of the territory. In my mind, if a big, snarly dog is lunging and threatening to come through the screen door, we move quickly. Dillydallying is not the answer. For me, anyway.
The princess sees it differently. She chooses to antagonize the dog further by strolling along nonchalantly, peeing and pooping to her heart's content. 'Take that, you stupid mutt!'
Today is no different. As we approach one particular house, the owner is wise enough to shove his 300 pound (seriously, 300 pounds!) attack dog into the house. Because of course, if you own such a dog, you would let it hang out leash free in the front yard. Why not? (Jackass!)
As the snarly beast is barking and growling and throwing himself against the screen door in an attempt to escape and eat my princess, the owner is chatting away on his cell on the porch. (Hey, asshole, end the conversation and contain your beast! Cesar would so not approve.)
My little princess chooses to retaliate by pooping.
As the mommy who is already holding a full bag of poop, I know she is pretty much empty. I also know that while in flashback mode, she often squirts without really leaving much behind. (I know, graphic. But this is what dog moms have to deal with. We don't have diapers or changing tables - all of our poop contact is on public display.)
She can't help it. It's kind of a nervous thing. Like a twitch or a stutter, but less endearing. And much less ladylike.
So, my princess begins her 'squat walk', because she can't poop in one spot. Ever. She squat-walks for the entire length of this guy's house. I'm trying to move her along, because of the snarly beast and all, but she's not having it. Squat and waddle.
I know she's not really doing anything. Not anything bag worthy, anyway. Not anything I'm willing to sacrifice my life for (snarly beast and all).
Somehow, cell phone jackass sees it differently. He has somehow seen a bag worthy deposit and chooses to point it out to me. Only after we've reached the end of his yard, of course. Bastard.
So, I am forced to bend over and scoop what turns out to be primarily a big clump of this guy's grass (not enough to leave a bald spot on his lawn even though I tried). God forbid that his superior feet get soiled when he's picking up his mail. Like one miniscule spot of poop (seriously small, like I've seen bigger wooly worms small) on his lawn is going to ruin his life. I mean, come one, it's not even a scoop worthy of me cracking my knees for. For crying out loud.
But, whatever. I sacrificed my dignity for the sake of the princess. As I often do. And we went on our merry little way, me with poop in hand. Her with a smug little smile on her face.
I'm not sure if it was because she felt victorious over the snarly beast or if she just enjoyed my humiliation that much. I'm going with snarly beast victory. I have to have something to hold on to in my life. Besides poop.

Things that I liked about today:
-I had tasty Indian food with my betrothed for lunch and they had these yummy fried lentil things on the buffet. Mmm. Fried lentils.

-Laundry got done without any spider encounters. (except for the dead one that was on the cap of the spray bottle I had to fish out from behind the dryer with a hammer so I wouldn't touch the dead spider)

-There were no cats in my yard.

-The cat that was in the neighbor's yard, threatening to jump into my yard did not because he could sense the potential danger from my angry glare.

-None of the neighbors saw me glaring angrily at the cat like a crazy woman (who may or may not have been armed with a spray bottle of water/carpet freshener/cat repellent).

-I just ate a Hershey's kiss. Mmmm. Chocolate.

-I did not run over the little punks who were hanging out in the middle of the street (engaged in some sort of jackassery, I'm sure) as I was trying to exit my neighborhood.

-I did not have rocks thrown at my car as I openly cursed the little punks whose jackassery was impeding my route to work.

-I got to use the word 'jackassery'. Three times.

-My car smells a little less like stinky feet than it did yesterday (no, they weren't my feet).

-My betrothed is secure enough with himself and our relationship to air out his stinky feet, shame free.

-I am engaged to a truly forgiving man who understands that I love him dearly (stink and all) no matter what I say while under the influence of fried lentils and chocolate kisses.

-I am tweeting now. (That's right, I'm bff's with all my favorite celebrities.) (How many tweets does it take to be considered a stalker?) (And can you tweet from jail?)

-I had an almond cookie earlier. (I'm only mentioning it now because in realizing that there are no kisses left, I'm truly appreciating the deliciousness of the almond cookie.)

-My coworker just showed me a picture of a tiny little platinum heart that someone had surgically implanted in their eyeball. (I know, right?!) (It makes me feel pretty good - I'm fat, but I'm not crazy.) (At least not platinum heart in the eyeball crazy!)

Anything you liked about your day?
Do tell...