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free vetrinary services

Yesterday, I walked out of a vet office without paying and I'm still baffled! Suki has been on a bit of a "you're not the boss of me" tangent since my parents visited this weekend, so I was not up to the battle of wills necessary to clip her claws myself.

After the hella-busy day at work I had yesterday (and I'm staring another one down today) I imagine I would have been reduced to exchanging an entire cookie for a single claw, covered in fur and MilkBone crumbs, Suki ultimately zooming around the house with only 60% of her claws trimmed . . .

So I called for enforcements - a bleary tired voice answered the phone at a clinic near my house "I'm only here for 20 more minutes". "Fantastic, I can be there in less than 10 minutes, will you please help me trim my dog's claws?" Of course by "help me" I meant "I'll hold the dog while you do the dirty work".

When all was said and done, I reached for my wallet, expecting to part with approximately $7. "Oh no, don't pay me - I only request that people make a donation to the animal shelter"
I can't recall the last time I was so happy to part with money.

I can't wait until Suki needs her nails trimmed again.

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no time for cocktails

Hello my darlings,

My "to-do" list is frightening me into acting like a responsible employee. I don't have time for a proper post, and more sadly, I don't have time to visit other blogs. But I'm keeping a corner of the universe safe from unorganized mayhem, so the sacrifice is worth it.

Smooches,
Betti

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stripey sock conspiracy?

I attended a college football game with my mother yesterday, and was dissapointed that something I'm proud of telling my friends and coworkers "it happens every time!" actualy did not happen this time.

No drunk college boys attempted to hug, kiss, or hit on my mom.

There are a few possible explanations for this lack of event:

1) We only attended the game instead of visiting with tailgaters as usual.

2) We had some pretty sweet seats, 28th row at the 30 yard line; we were surrounded by wealthy people who could afford to make grand donations to the athletic department, ooooold people who had been purchasing season football tickets for a looong time in addition to making donations, and other people like us who were fortunate enough to be gifted tickets because our team is far from fantastic. In short, there weren't very many partying drunk people nearby.

3) I wore colorful stripey socks.

And I think the socks are responsible for the lack of drunken requests for hugs.

Allow me to explain: My mother and I have similar lexicons, and similiar public behavior traits, but don't particularly look related. Neither one of us can walk in a straight line under the best of conditions, and I *still* hate losing my mommy in public, so when we're in crowds, we tend to link arms or hold hands.

Later in the evening, someone pointed out that that my socks looked quite, uh, "Lebanese"

I'll just let you figure it out from here.

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take off your shoes!!!

Last night, I barked at Mr. Hubby (who was returning from a 12 hour work day) and Mr. Lee (who after his own long work day, graciously mowed my lawn) about keeping the floor clean; "Shoes off! Now!"

15 minutes later, I walked out to the garage with shoes on and forgot to take them off again, so I tracked grit and muck all over the recently cleaned vinyl floor. Somehow Mr. Hubby had the patience to point out my hipocracy in a calm manner, he just handed me a small piece of mulch as he pointed to the floor "I think it's from your shoes".

Nothing short of replacement will ever make that vinyl actually look clean, what kind of moron installs white vinyl in heavy traffic areas? Once the surface of the white vinyl is scratched, no amount of scrubbing will revive it; I'm coming to peace with having floors that permantely look dirty.

I find peace in delusion: I keep telling myself I'll have the spare money to replace the floor soon. I've been telling myself that for three years now, and am further from the "spare money" goal than I've ever been, but I remain convinced that my floor doesn't look like crap, it's just the floor some stupid previous owner installed. In my mind, the new flooring is already installed!

As Mr. Lee helped me move the kitchen table back to it's usual location, I was all-out cranky; "Dammit! Stop making it crooked!" then (against my usual frugal tendencies) I declared myself too tired to warm up leftovers and make boxed Mac&Cheese.

Mr. Hubby and Mr. Lee ventured back out into the night, in persuit of ghettocola and chinese food, they returned with two styrofoam containers packed past capacity with artery-hardening, lard-ass creating, heartburn-inducing BLISS. Also? Mr. Lee bought non-generic Diet Dr. Pepper.

Essentially, any health benefits I reaped by being physically active all day were wiped away by bad food choices I made while worn out and cranky. I may have a different opinion later when the scale is bulging a bit, but for now, it was worth it.

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fall cleaning day

I'm not an HTML wizard yet, but I've attempted some small improvements to this site - please share any suggestions or opinions, keeping in mind I'll only yell "well, . . you're a DORK!" if I think you're picking on me.

Ahem, if "Alie" and "Mr. Lee" weren't too cool for blogging I'd include links for them in my shiny new "usual hecklers" section. Perhaps I should threaten to make web sites on their behalf?

I won't be making any more site modifications today, I'm hauling arse around the office this morning because I'm taking the afternoon off to give my house a much-needed cleaning. If I don't post tomorrow, assume that I've become mentally unhinged (moreso than usual) by the task.

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more tacky artwork (ELVIS WEDNESDAY entry below)

But I can claim some responsibility for it!
I found a freebie image and modified it until it became this:

I intend on figureing out how to add the image above to the margin of my blog so it is a functional link to Nikki's page.

If you hear frustrated yowling, foot stomping, and the destruction of an ergonomic keyboard, it's probably just me. . . learning.

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And velvet Elvis paintings are considered tacky??

Pleh. Respect your eyeballs - brace yourselves in preparation for
some diabetic-sweet schlock in the near future.

Thomas Kinkade, who is responsible for *ahem* "art" like this:

is moving on to historical subject matter.

To quote the AP:
The artist told the newspaper that, in the final work, he envisions �a likeness of Elvis somewhere in the painting and Elvis� Cadillac.�

A California native beloved by some but reviled by the art establishment, Kinkade claims to be the most widely collected living U.S. artist. Kinkade�s paintings typically include peaceful scenes of cottages, country gardens, churches, streams and lighthouses in dewy morning light. Many contain images from Bible passages.

Roughly 10 million Americans have a Kinkade painting at home. The wall hangings and spinoff products are said to fetch $100 million a year.

The horror . . . the horror . . .

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fighting spineless worms with words

My Elvis Wednesday buddy Nikki recently came up with a great idea: she created a web site called Stories of Strength & Courage" as a venue for women to share their stories of escaping from abusive relationships, and a place for women to hopefully gather up the strength and courage necessary to leave an abusive relationship.

If you can provide good links to other supportive sites or would like to share your own story, please submit the information to [email protected].

* ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ *

Nikki is recovering from shoulder surgery, and I'm feelin' fine.

She's coming up with fantastic philanthropic ideas, and I'm laughing at my own burps!

I'll do something useful someday . . .

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