I have found the only flaw in my Haven. It isn't located in the tropics. The night before last I had a most wonderful dream about a new home I had just purchased that was in a sea-side town in the world of Dream Land. I can't remember details about the house. Just faint memories that my DH and the critters were there, that we were settled and everyone was content. As I stood on the beautiful veranda and looked out at the view I felt supreme satisfaction. As if all my dreams had finally come true. I awoke with a start to find myself in my cute, comfortable Haven here in the middle of the mountains. To say I am unsatisfied with mountains is a large over-exaggeration, however the memory of that satisfied feeling from my dream keeps haunting me.
Ms.B
Friday, January 26, 2007
Monday, January 22, 2007
Little Einstien
Day 2 of Puppy Class was this past Saturday and I must take a moment to gush about how smart my monkey is. There were a few less puppies and their hoomans in attendance. I guess we're going to eventually weed out the pet owners who aren't as motivated to make the extra effort. Sunny was there and the two chihua.. chiwa... taco bell dogs as well. The evil Toto dogs and the mixed shelter rescue and her 7 people didn't show. Though I support the training of all dogs (whether formal or not), I confess I was glad to have a smaller class. It made for fewer distractions and better results. The lesson for week 2 of puppy class was "Down", as in Lay Down. Though still a work in progress, Gus is picking it up very quickly. He does it even if treats are not involved and though his appropriate response is still hit and miss, I think he's got it. The main barrier is his puppy brain and the inability to get him to "focus focus focus". Once we actually have his attention, he's a super star. We have a break next Saturday while our trainer, Jessica, has some minor surgery. The goal for 2 weeks from now is for Gus to master “sit” and “down” and for his mommy to learn how to successfully spell the word “Chihuahua.”
******
Legal at Last
Gus and Chloe went and got licensed on Saturday. There were no complications with the process, they behaved themselves decently amidst all the excitement, and we only had to pay $5 for each dog. Of course, I forgot to mention exactly WHEN we had moved. And I didn't exactly mention WHEN I had rescued Chloe from her old family. Had they asked, I'd have been honest. In this case, silence was the best policy.
Ms.B pats her hair to make sure it is still covering her devil horns
It's nice to have everything taken care of regarding the dogs. Now, if one of them runs off we'll be able to get them back much more easily. They are both micro chipped and we've taken the necessary steps to avoid any fees. They even have their shiny new "I'm Legal" tags attached to the harnesses they wear when walking. Of course, there is always Granny Dog to factor in to the picture. If she were to run off we'd be in trouble since:
A) She's not licensed
B) She's a third dog in our home and we're only supposed to have 2 (!!)
C) We've kept her in the house and the back yard since we've had her so most people don't know she's ours.
She does have a tag on her collar with our number on it so hopefully if she does manage to spy-tech her way to freedom, a good samaritan will find her and just give us a call. Let us all hope and pray that she decides her old bones should just stick around the Haven and not seek adventure.
Ms.B
******
Legal at Last
Gus and Chloe went and got licensed on Saturday. There were no complications with the process, they behaved themselves decently amidst all the excitement, and we only had to pay $5 for each dog. Of course, I forgot to mention exactly WHEN we had moved. And I didn't exactly mention WHEN I had rescued Chloe from her old family. Had they asked, I'd have been honest. In this case, silence was the best policy.
Ms.B pats her hair to make sure it is still covering her devil horns
It's nice to have everything taken care of regarding the dogs. Now, if one of them runs off we'll be able to get them back much more easily. They are both micro chipped and we've taken the necessary steps to avoid any fees. They even have their shiny new "I'm Legal" tags attached to the harnesses they wear when walking. Of course, there is always Granny Dog to factor in to the picture. If she were to run off we'd be in trouble since:
A) She's not licensed
B) She's a third dog in our home and we're only supposed to have 2 (!!)
C) We've kept her in the house and the back yard since we've had her so most people don't know she's ours.
She does have a tag on her collar with our number on it so hopefully if she does manage to spy-tech her way to freedom, a good samaritan will find her and just give us a call. Let us all hope and pray that she decides her old bones should just stick around the Haven and not seek adventure.
Ms.B
Friday, January 19, 2007
And the #1 most embarassing reason for leaving work early is:
Today, during my lunch break at work, I ate a microwave spaghetti dinner. Normally this wouldn't be an overly dramatic event, however I had my gall bladder removed a few years back and now my digestive abilities aren't quite what they used to be. A short while after I had finished my food, the familiar rumbling and gurgling in my stomach began. Normally, the sharp pains and throbs associated with my inability to digest worth a damn are relieved by going to the bathroom and unleashing a nice strong fart. Today, I didn't feel that a trip to the bathroom was in order. Big mistake. I double checked that I was alone in the office, unleashed my gas... and shit my pants!
The horror! The humiliation!! With hands over my ass crack, I ran to the restroom only to find that in addition to having created a stinky racing stripe in my undies, I had also started my "lady curse".
What the !@#$%*#!
In a prior post I shared my infertility woes. I wasn't totally caught unprepared by the news that I am unable to have a child. I've never had a regular cycle. I was NOT prepared to be bleeding at work. I didn't have any supplies on hand and was forced to purchase a cheap pad from the bathroom vending machine. Most unfortunate was the fact that I was not wearing normal "tight girlie" panties that would hold the pad close to my nether regions. No sooner had I stood up from the porcelain throne to zip up my jeans when the darn thing twisted itself around and stuck itself to all my sensitive little hairs "down there". Any woman who has experienced this situation before just slammed their knees together after reading the previous sentence, it feels that good.
It didn't take me long to figure out that I needed to leave work early to take care of the situation. Embarrassingly enough, my boss is a man. A large, burly man. I had to take him aside and explain the whole situation to him. (!!!) I confess I omitted the part about sharting my pants. The mere mention of me having bled all over my undies was already enough for him to throw up his arms in a "get away from me" motion and walk away while telling me to go home. Good thing I erred on the side of caution. sigh
Ms.B
The horror! The humiliation!! With hands over my ass crack, I ran to the restroom only to find that in addition to having created a stinky racing stripe in my undies, I had also started my "lady curse".
What the !@#$%*#!
In a prior post I shared my infertility woes. I wasn't totally caught unprepared by the news that I am unable to have a child. I've never had a regular cycle. I was NOT prepared to be bleeding at work. I didn't have any supplies on hand and was forced to purchase a cheap pad from the bathroom vending machine. Most unfortunate was the fact that I was not wearing normal "tight girlie" panties that would hold the pad close to my nether regions. No sooner had I stood up from the porcelain throne to zip up my jeans when the darn thing twisted itself around and stuck itself to all my sensitive little hairs "down there". Any woman who has experienced this situation before just slammed their knees together after reading the previous sentence, it feels that good.
It didn't take me long to figure out that I needed to leave work early to take care of the situation. Embarrassingly enough, my boss is a man. A large, burly man. I had to take him aside and explain the whole situation to him. (!!!) I confess I omitted the part about sharting my pants. The mere mention of me having bled all over my undies was already enough for him to throw up his arms in a "get away from me" motion and walk away while telling me to go home. Good thing I erred on the side of caution. sigh
Ms.B
Thursday, January 18, 2007
I'm starting to understand...
why people disregard the animal control laws in my state. DH and I recently moved a mere 10 miles away from our old location. We crossed a city line in the process and now our dogs are no longer licensed. The shock! The horror! So, in order to be a good little doggie owner, I called up the nearest animal control location to find out what I needed to do to get back in compliance. Alas, by moving across the city line, I was no longer supposed to license them at the place I called (which is a mile down the road). Instead, I have to drive 15 miles (!!) to the proper location. I have to take proof of sterilization, rabbies shot & since the monkey and wiener both have a microchip, I need the actual dogs as well so they can scan them and get the chip i.d. number. And since we moved a couple of months ago and didn't do this all within the 30 day time limit they wanted me to do it in, we will probably have to pay a higher licensing fee for the wiener. sigh It would be so much easier to just have the dogs illegally in our home and forget all about this whole "compliance with the law" business. Seriously now. No wonder there are so many iresponsible owners. If I wasn't such a poosy, I'd say "To hell with it." Alas, I suffer from guilt and will have to make the special trip on Saturday to get everything put right. Of course, I might just have to fib a bit about when we moved so that I don't have to pay an extra fee for waiting to register Chloe. I mean, heck, I need that money more than the state does, right? RIGHT?!? ....Right.
.........
Our second Puppy Class is this weekend. Gus was a super star the first day. I can already tell which dogs in the class will do well and which are going to be very naughty. There is a terrier (think Toto in Wizard of Oz) that is a little demon! He reminds me of my wiener, he is that naughty. Maybe even worse! I hope we don't end up sitting next to him in any future classes or Gus won't learn anything but evasive maneuvers. If we are lucky, we'll continue to sit next to Sunny, a sweet golden retriver puppy who has good energy. She doens't evoke the "Don Juan" in Gus that the little dachshie did a few weeks ago, but she's a sweetie just the same.
.........
Our second Puppy Class is this weekend. Gus was a super star the first day. I can already tell which dogs in the class will do well and which are going to be very naughty. There is a terrier (think Toto in Wizard of Oz) that is a little demon! He reminds me of my wiener, he is that naughty. Maybe even worse! I hope we don't end up sitting next to him in any future classes or Gus won't learn anything but evasive maneuvers. If we are lucky, we'll continue to sit next to Sunny, a sweet golden retriver puppy who has good energy. She doens't evoke the "Don Juan" in Gus that the little dachshie did a few weeks ago, but she's a sweetie just the same.
Reality Check
I've come to the realization that it is much easier and more enjoyable to blog about silly, insignificant occurrences than to write about the serious side of life. The Haven Blog is still in its infancy, but I enjoy having an outlet for my thoughts and emotions, as silly as they may be. I sit down each day and just pour out all my goofy ideas and stories and when I am done, I feel like I've accomplished something. It matters not that I am one of only 2 or 3 people who knows this Blog exists... I'm not writing it for anyone but myself anyway. For literary genius in blog form there are other blogs that are much more enjoyable.
Today it is time for a serious post. My DH isn't doing well. Don't get me wrong, its not like he has one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel or anything but he's having some health problems. Tuesday night at 9:30 DH became so ill that he threw up. The difference between Tuesday and about a dozen or so other nights at around 9:30 (Don't even ask me to begin explaining why he is always sick at 9:30 and ONLY 9:30.) is that there was blood in his vomit this time. He called the Insta-Care near our home and they told him that he should go to the Emergency Room.
Two hours later we were in a room at the E.R. of the local hospital. DH had an I.V. in his arm and they were pumping him full of drugs. To check his stomach for a bleed, they had to stick a large tube down his nose into his stomach. I won't even begin to attempt to describe the discomfort that the tube caused my poor sweet man. For one, I didn't experience it. And if I went by HIS description, I'd have to use a lot of four-letter words which could be offensive to any reader who randomly surfs onto this Blog.
In the end, they decided the bleeding wasn't too bad, pulled thenasty tube out, gave us a prescription for drugs and sent us on our way. The discharge papers stated that he has a peptic ulcer.
He slept for quite a while after we got home and seemed semi-better in the afternoon when we went to get his medicine. That evening (talk about timing!) my parents showed up at our house with their old bedroom furniture which they've been so kind to give us. DH and my Daddy spent an hour moving our old bed set upstairs into the guest room and the new bed, dresser, hutch and matching bed-side tables into our bedroom. My mother and I ran around doing our best tolook like we were trying to help. Now he has a nice king sized bed to do his resting in so I hope he feels better. In an attempt to help his stress levels go down, he has withdrawn from his classes at the University and is taking the semester off. Hopefully we will get him back up to snuff so he'll be rearing and ready to go for the summer courses. My work was kind enough to let me take some time off to get the prescriptions filled and pick up the food/drink items that the nurse had recommended.
I need to be a good little wife and come up with some clever, non-stressful ways I can spoil my poor darling. My sweetie pie. My delicate little flower. My best friend.
Today it is time for a serious post. My DH isn't doing well. Don't get me wrong, its not like he has one foot in the grave and the other on a banana peel or anything but he's having some health problems. Tuesday night at 9:30 DH became so ill that he threw up. The difference between Tuesday and about a dozen or so other nights at around 9:30 (Don't even ask me to begin explaining why he is always sick at 9:30 and ONLY 9:30.) is that there was blood in his vomit this time. He called the Insta-Care near our home and they told him that he should go to the Emergency Room.
Two hours later we were in a room at the E.R. of the local hospital. DH had an I.V. in his arm and they were pumping him full of drugs. To check his stomach for a bleed, they had to stick a large tube down his nose into his stomach. I won't even begin to attempt to describe the discomfort that the tube caused my poor sweet man. For one, I didn't experience it. And if I went by HIS description, I'd have to use a lot of four-letter words which could be offensive to any reader who randomly surfs onto this Blog.
In the end, they decided the bleeding wasn't too bad, pulled the
He slept for quite a while after we got home and seemed semi-better in the afternoon when we went to get his medicine. That evening (talk about timing!) my parents showed up at our house with their old bedroom furniture which they've been so kind to give us. DH and my Daddy spent an hour moving our old bed set upstairs into the guest room and the new bed, dresser, hutch and matching bed-side tables into our bedroom. My mother and I ran around doing our best to
I need to be a good little wife and come up with some clever, non-stressful ways I can spoil my poor darling. My sweetie pie. My delicate little flower. My best friend.
Like a Weed
After watching the old video footage of Monkey and Wiener the other day, it occured to me just how large Gus has become. I fear that by the time he's done growing, it will be hard to even pick him up. And to think I used to hold him in the palm of my hand...
Ms.B
Ms.B
Tuesday, January 16, 2007
Monday, January 15, 2007
So Cold. Toes Numb.
Red and blue are beautiful colors. Very patriotic, classic even. However, when the red is my hair, and the blue is my skin, I am not a very happy camper. The heater in the Haven is not functioning properly. Yesterday morning I glanced at the thermostat only to discover that our house was a cozy 52 degrees. ACK!! Since I'm normally content and happy at about 70, this was a major problem. My father is in the process of helping us get it fixed, but in the mean time we had to make a dash to the local hardware store to buy some small heaters to keep our house from feeling like an icebox. I'm not programmed for cold. Yes, I live in the Rocky Mountains and yes it gets chilly here, but I prefer to admire the snow and ice from inside a well heated building. When I have to open the fridge to get a blast of warmer air there is a problem. *sigh*
Luckily, things will soon be back to normal and we'll use the heaters in less desperate situations. And if they don't get better, I can always go sleep in a snowbank to keep warm. ACK ACK!!
Ms.B
Luckily, things will soon be back to normal and we'll use the heaters in less desperate situations. And if they don't get better, I can always go sleep in a snowbank to keep warm. ACK ACK!!
Ms.B
Saturday, January 13, 2007
*STILL* not Michelle
*ring ring*
Ms.B: Hello?
Stranger: Hi Michelle!
Ms.B: ... This isn't Michelle.
Stranger: It's Not?
Ms.B: ... No. I get calls from her all the time still and I've had the phone for a year and a half..
Stranger: Oh! I'm sorry. I did it again, didn't I!?
Ms.B: No problem. Bye!!
*****
This Michelle chick either keeps forgetting her new number when asking people to call, is really slow to hand out her new number to those she knows, or she has horribly bad friends and family who can't keep track of her worth a damn.
Ms.B
Ms.B: Hello?
Stranger: Hi Michelle!
Ms.B: ... This isn't Michelle.
Stranger: It's Not?
Ms.B: ... No. I get calls from her all the time still and I've had the phone for a year and a half..
Stranger: Oh! I'm sorry. I did it again, didn't I!?
Ms.B: No problem. Bye!!
*****
This Michelle chick either keeps forgetting her new number when asking people to call, is really slow to hand out her new number to those she knows, or she has horribly bad friends and family who can't keep track of her worth a damn.
Ms.B
Friday, January 12, 2007
Pug + Home Remodel = STUPID OWNER
A nasty migrane woke me up at the butt-crack of dawn. A handful of drugs and more sleep later I decided to call into work for the day. It's not often that Ms.Behaved suffers from a head-ache so I figured "What the Hell".
Now that a few additional hours have gone by, my head, though still pounding, is at a pain level that I am able to deal with while moving around so I decided to be productive. I patched the nail holes in the guest room walls (which are now a lovely shade of primer instead of pine-tree-green) and decided I'd caulk the trim around the door in the bathroom as well since I plan to be painting it in the very near future. No sooner had I run a bead of caulk from floor to tip-top of the door frame when I looked down to see the Monkey with caulking all over his face frantically attempting to lick it off. "!@#@$&*!"
With lightening reflexes, I scooped him up and stuck him in the sink for a good face scrub. Luckily he seemed to enjoy the process (crazy!) and was none the worse for wear. I then finished smoothing out the remaining caulk and decided to blog while it dried. About the time I was typing the "!@#@$&*!" above I looked down at him and sure enough, a new batch of caulk was on his face.
Back to the sink for another scrub. Of course, this time I was astute enough to close the bathroom door when I was done. Needless to say, I've been more productive than I planed. The walls were patched, the door was caulked (twice) and the Monkey has a clean face to boot!
Ms.B
Now that a few additional hours have gone by, my head, though still pounding, is at a pain level that I am able to deal with while moving around so I decided to be productive. I patched the nail holes in the guest room walls (which are now a lovely shade of primer instead of pine-tree-green) and decided I'd caulk the trim around the door in the bathroom as well since I plan to be painting it in the very near future. No sooner had I run a bead of caulk from floor to tip-top of the door frame when I looked down to see the Monkey with caulking all over his face frantically attempting to lick it off. "!@#@$&*!"
With lightening reflexes, I scooped him up and stuck him in the sink for a good face scrub. Luckily he seemed to enjoy the process (crazy!) and was none the worse for wear. I then finished smoothing out the remaining caulk and decided to blog while it dried. About the time I was typing the "!@#@$&*!" above I looked down at him and sure enough, a new batch of caulk was on his face.
Back to the sink for another scrub. Of course, this time I was astute enough to close the bathroom door when I was done. Needless to say, I've been more productive than I planed. The walls were patched, the door was caulked (twice) and the Monkey has a clean face to boot!
Ms.B
Wednesday, January 10, 2007
Secrets...
Keeping a secret is a talent. Depending on the seriousness of the subject matter, it can kill you inside! I am lucky to fall into the category of people who are, in fact, able to keep a secret. At least, I can keep it if you TELL me its a secret. Otherwise I might just blab it to the world without realizing. Oops. My bad.
A few days ago a co-worker, J, took me to her office on the sly and told me she is quitting. J is one of the best employees our company has ever had and I am distressed with her leaving. She's a "good energy" type of person who doesn't wait for things to happen but instead jumps in and makes them happen. The type that you are grateful to have as a co-worker, yet hope that your boss doesn't compare you to them because you fear you'd never measure up.
I have mixed emotions about my secret. I am sad to see J go. She's been a support for me on both a professional and a personal level. My family wasn't able to attend my wedding, and J sat next to me that day before the ceremony in the place of my parents. If it wasn't for the friendship and support that she gave me I highly doubt that I'd have met and married the man I did. Yet, I know that she has great ambitions inside of her and I've always known this day was coming. She is moving to an impoverished country and doing volunteer work in an orphanage. Those children are going to be so blessed by her presence there, and I have no doubt in my mind that she will be equally touched by them. But still, it is hard to see her go. I know it won't be the same here without her. We have to share her with the world. Boo for sharing. sigh
I've posted her job opening on the necessary websites and arranged for it to run in the local newspaper this weekend. I've had to do this all in secrecy, however, because she hasn't yet made the formal announcement that she is leaving. I've spent the morning smuggling resumes and applications into her office. I am grateful that I won't be involved in the decision of who will replace her. No one would even come close. What can I say, I'm biased.
A few days ago a co-worker, J, took me to her office on the sly and told me she is quitting. J is one of the best employees our company has ever had and I am distressed with her leaving. She's a "good energy" type of person who doesn't wait for things to happen but instead jumps in and makes them happen. The type that you are grateful to have as a co-worker, yet hope that your boss doesn't compare you to them because you fear you'd never measure up.
I have mixed emotions about my secret. I am sad to see J go. She's been a support for me on both a professional and a personal level. My family wasn't able to attend my wedding, and J sat next to me that day before the ceremony in the place of my parents. If it wasn't for the friendship and support that she gave me I highly doubt that I'd have met and married the man I did. Yet, I know that she has great ambitions inside of her and I've always known this day was coming. She is moving to an impoverished country and doing volunteer work in an orphanage. Those children are going to be so blessed by her presence there, and I have no doubt in my mind that she will be equally touched by them. But still, it is hard to see her go. I know it won't be the same here without her. We have to share her with the world. Boo for sharing. sigh
I've posted her job opening on the necessary websites and arranged for it to run in the local newspaper this weekend. I've had to do this all in secrecy, however, because she hasn't yet made the formal announcement that she is leaving. I've spent the morning smuggling resumes and applications into her office. I am grateful that I won't be involved in the decision of who will replace her. No one would even come close. What can I say, I'm biased.
Secret Joy
Driving around town can be an adventure. People are in a super damn hurry at times and apparently they don't care about the lives of those around them. Getting to McDonalds 45 seconds sooner is worth the risk. BASTARDS! Which is why I experience extreme joy when I can carry out what I call "Crazy Ass Driver Intervention". By this, I mean that I am able to maneuver my car into a position where they can't get past me and put everyone's lives in grave peril. Yes, I know that doing this will ignite their road rage and most likely they'll wish they could hit my bumper and drive me off the road, however Heinous Bitch couldn't care less about that small fact.
Today as I approached the final turn to work, a white construction truck crossed three lanes, swerved around me, raced to the light and then slammed on his breaks to make the turn. The turn he made cut across the first lane and he ended up on the far left. I noted the speed of the cars ahead. Being the observant girl that I am, I was aware of an increased speed limit sign hidden behind a tree right after that turn. I stayed to the right and surged ahead where I was able to eventually merge over into the left lane and keep a happy pace with a car in the right lane. The white truck was stuck behind me. Ain't I a stinker?
It's a trivial thing, and he most likely never realized what happened. But it has made my entire morning. Weeee!!
Ms.B
Today as I approached the final turn to work, a white construction truck crossed three lanes, swerved around me, raced to the light and then slammed on his breaks to make the turn. The turn he made cut across the first lane and he ended up on the far left. I noted the speed of the cars ahead. Being the observant girl that I am, I was aware of an increased speed limit sign hidden behind a tree right after that turn. I stayed to the right and surged ahead where I was able to eventually merge over into the left lane and keep a happy pace with a car in the right lane. The white truck was stuck behind me. Ain't I a stinker?
It's a trivial thing, and he most likely never realized what happened. But it has made my entire morning. Weeee!!
Ms.B
Monday, January 8, 2007
Attack of the Fertile Girls
Tomorrow will be the first gathering of the "friends from college" this year. The event: Double Baby Shower. Yes, not one but TWO of my friends are almost ready to pop. Damn Fertile Bitches! They are so cute and fun and pregnanty looking. Their babies will be adorable and sweet and smell so nice. I'm happy and excited for the party on one hand and green with envy on the other. Not just a regular green. A lime-freakin-gimmee-gimmee sort of green. BAH!
The best part of it is that I need to get gifts which means more SHOPPING. WOOO! All my envy aside, I really do look forward to the get-togethers that we have each time someone has a child. We always descend upon the home of our hostess with gifts and food galore. By the end of the night we've all promised that we're going to get together more often (!! ... right.) and reminisce about the good old days when we were all students in college and didn't have the stresses (and pleasures) of married life.
The girls I befriended in school are among the neatest people I've ever known. They've blessed my life in more ways than I can count, as corny as that sounds. But this is the last set of friends who are having their first child. The only one left without children now... is me. sigh While the other women sit in a circle and discuss the cute things that "Little Johnny" did, I will be sharing my proud stories of a monkey that knows how to 'sit'. How twisted is that? And yet, even though I am not part of the Mommy Club I will still enjoy myself. And ya know what? I really will be okay even if I am never in that club. Because deep down inside, I know that I have a good life regardless of the milestones that I may or may not have reached. So I don't have babies. I have a wonderful supportive family who cares about me. And as an extra bonus, the sweetest, sassiest, most exciting man I've ever met decided that he could tolerate marrying me and having me around forever more. How can a girl complain?
The best part of it is that I need to get gifts which means more SHOPPING. WOOO! All my envy aside, I really do look forward to the get-togethers that we have each time someone has a child. We always descend upon the home of our hostess with gifts and food galore. By the end of the night we've all promised that we're going to get together more often (!! ... right.) and reminisce about the good old days when we were all students in college and didn't have the stresses (and pleasures) of married life.
The girls I befriended in school are among the neatest people I've ever known. They've blessed my life in more ways than I can count, as corny as that sounds. But this is the last set of friends who are having their first child. The only one left without children now... is me. sigh While the other women sit in a circle and discuss the cute things that "Little Johnny" did, I will be sharing my proud stories of a monkey that knows how to 'sit'. How twisted is that? And yet, even though I am not part of the Mommy Club I will still enjoy myself. And ya know what? I really will be okay even if I am never in that club. Because deep down inside, I know that I have a good life regardless of the milestones that I may or may not have reached. So I don't have babies. I have a wonderful supportive family who cares about me. And as an extra bonus, the sweetest, sassiest, most exciting man I've ever met decided that he could tolerate marrying me and having me around forever more. How can a girl complain?
Blog Therapy
Once upon a time (in 2004 to be precise) there lived a young girl named Ms.Behaved who worked as the H.R. Manager of her company. There came a day when a mass exodus of staff from the Dietary Department caused a great need for some help and the manager of said department went to Ms.Behaved and begged her to find them a new staff who could save them from their world of hurt.
Ms.Behaved was a clever hottie and very determined to save the day. Alas, she didn't know many people who were looking for an entry-level position and the only person who came to mind was her ex-boyfriend. Now, this ex-boyfriend in question was a good lad, just a little on the slow side. He was in his mid-twenties and still lived at home with his mommy with no ambition for continuing his education or find his own place. (Ambition makes all the difference, yes?) Ms.B also knew that he hadn't had a job (or paycheck) for a little over a year and wondered if maybe some vim and vigor had grown inside of him since the time they had dated. On a whim, she dialed his number and nonchalantly asked him if he knew of anyone who was looking for a job cooking and washing dishes. He said he didn't recall anyone but that he'd let her know if that changed. A short time later Mr. PBM be-bopped into her office stating that he wanted to apply to work in the kitchen.
*Angel choir sings* AHHHHHHHHHHH
At long last the kitchen had an employee who was reliable and could show up for any shift he was assigned. Mr. PBM actually made Ms.B proud with his work performance and over time he eventually worked his was into the management position in the department. Miraculously, the two of them got along swimmingly as co-workers even though he was still licking the wounds that their break-up had caused. Ms.B suspected that he still cared for her but she ignored those thoughts and moved on with her life eventually meeting and marrying a handsome foreigner.
At last, the Dietary Department had a dependable leader... or so we thought.
UGH! Mr. PBM is an idiot!
.
*Der* Left his brain cell at home
If smoke could come out of the ears of someone who was truely angry, I'd have set off the alarms at work today. CODE RED! CODE RED!!
Being a strawberry blonde, I enjoy the freedom of claiming "ditzy blonde" moments. Alas, I also suffer from having a side of me that I fondly refer to as Heinous Bitch! After all, red-heads have a temper, doncha know!
Heinous Bitch made an appearance today at approximately 9:00 a.m. when my carefully organized General Orientation class fell apart due to the stupidity of a co-worker, aka "The ex-boyfriend who likes Peanut Butter & Mustard sandwiches" aka Mr. PBM. A few years ago, after much annoyance with the fact that our facility didn't have a formal orientation class, I snatched an opportunity to create one and implement it. Since that day, it has been my baby. My unpredictable, naughty, sometimes rebellious baby. I do my best to keep things organized and running like clockwork and all things considered, it usually goes quite well. Today, however, my streak of happy, care-free orientations ended when Mr. PBM decided to have three staff, who were NOT on my scheduled list, show up. Sadly, I don't speak thier language, and they don't speak mine, so I was unable to tell them that I had already organized a separate training for them. They wanted to stay, and stay they did. Which left me dashing around this morning making three additional copies of the 2" thick Orientation binder that each employee receives.
The presentation for my Rehab department went quite well except that there was a corner of the room buzzing in another language, begging to copy answers they didn't understand from others' papers and disrupting the rest of the group. And trying to see things from their point of view, their dumb-ass boss told them to come to these classes. Classes they don't understand. Classes that probably make them feel a little insecure and embarassed.
STUPID MR. PBM! I really do have feelings of hatred for you today!
I think my main annoyances are for the following reasons:
* Mr. PBM has already shown signs of being an idiot in the past (Hence the reason he's my ex.)
* I HATE looking foolish (though I'm so good at it) and showing up to a scheduled training session short a few binders doesn't look good. ARG
* I came in 2 hours early this morning (aka "gave up 2 hours of sleep") so that I could make some last minute binders and organize things. If I'd known I needed 3 additional binders I'd have made the damn things. ARG ARG
*Mr. PBM is an idiot!!!
* An applogy would have decreased the anger festering deep down inside by at least 35%.
* These gals are NOT going to learn the information that they need. They are just going to coast through the next few days by copying down information and not really getting it.
All that aside, the rest of the presentations are going well so far. And with a little luck, they'll continue to do well for the next 2 days. *knock on wood* Once this class is over it will be a month or more before I am once again blogging about the drama and joys of Orientation.
Gah! Mr. PBM is an idiot.
Ms. B
Being a strawberry blonde, I enjoy the freedom of claiming "ditzy blonde" moments. Alas, I also suffer from having a side of me that I fondly refer to as Heinous Bitch! After all, red-heads have a temper, doncha know!
Heinous Bitch made an appearance today at approximately 9:00 a.m. when my carefully organized General Orientation class fell apart due to the stupidity of a co-worker, aka "The ex-boyfriend who likes Peanut Butter & Mustard sandwiches" aka Mr. PBM. A few years ago, after much annoyance with the fact that our facility didn't have a formal orientation class, I snatched an opportunity to create one and implement it. Since that day, it has been my baby. My unpredictable, naughty, sometimes rebellious baby. I do my best to keep things organized and running like clockwork and all things considered, it usually goes quite well. Today, however, my streak of happy, care-free orientations ended when Mr. PBM decided to have three staff, who were NOT on my scheduled list, show up. Sadly, I don't speak thier language, and they don't speak mine, so I was unable to tell them that I had already organized a separate training for them. They wanted to stay, and stay they did. Which left me dashing around this morning making three additional copies of the 2" thick Orientation binder that each employee receives.
The presentation for my Rehab department went quite well except that there was a corner of the room buzzing in another language, begging to copy answers they didn't understand from others' papers and disrupting the rest of the group. And trying to see things from their point of view, their dumb-ass boss told them to come to these classes. Classes they don't understand. Classes that probably make them feel a little insecure and embarassed.
STUPID MR. PBM! I really do have feelings of hatred for you today!
I think my main annoyances are for the following reasons:
* Mr. PBM has already shown signs of being an idiot in the past (Hence the reason he's my ex.)
* I HATE looking foolish (though I'm so good at it) and showing up to a scheduled training session short a few binders doesn't look good. ARG
* I came in 2 hours early this morning (aka "gave up 2 hours of sleep") so that I could make some last minute binders and organize things. If I'd known I needed 3 additional binders I'd have made the damn things. ARG ARG
*Mr. PBM is an idiot!!!
* An applogy would have decreased the anger festering deep down inside by at least 35%.
* These gals are NOT going to learn the information that they need. They are just going to coast through the next few days by copying down information and not really getting it.
All that aside, the rest of the presentations are going well so far. And with a little luck, they'll continue to do well for the next 2 days. *knock on wood* Once this class is over it will be a month or more before I am once again blogging about the drama and joys of Orientation.
Gah! Mr. PBM is an idiot.
Ms. B
Thursday, January 4, 2007
So Smart
Last weekend while on an outing to the local pet store, the monkey and I were minding our own business, admiring the tropical fish when three young puppies and their hoomans came around the corner near where we were standing. Monkey immediately smoothed back his hair, did a breath-check in his paw and struck his Ain't I Adorable pose. There at the front of the pack was the object of his sudden Rico Suave attitude. She was the most adorable longhaired dachshund; the first pup I've ever seen that made Gus preen. Once she was within sniffing distance he couldn't get to her fast enough. There in the store, nose to nose, they had a "moment". I'm still not sure if the proper reaction should have been "Awwwwwww", or embarrassment followed by a quick exit from the store. Luckily her hooman seemed flattered by his attention (after all, he was being a gentleman, and is fixed to boot) and a good time was had by all. Monkey was also very interested in the “Bug” (half Boston Terrier, half Pug) in that class. It was as if some primitive recognition was boiling deep down inside him and he could recognize his cousin. He wasn’t such a fan of the Yorkie/Maltese mix that bounced around and barked anytime anything moved and startled her.
All this puppy love reminded the DH and me that we had intended to sign the monkey up for obedience classes. Ten minutes later the deed was done. Our first class is January 13th. Of course, in order to not embarrass ourselves, we’ve already started prepping him for what is to come. It only took a few 5-minute sessions for him to learn how to “sit”. A butt-load of treats also helped seal the deal. It’s still a work in progress and sometimes we have to point to the floor when we give the command, but now he will do it even if there aren’t treats involved. Staying put once his butt hits the floor is another story, but we plan on making “stay” the next goal.
I am most looking forward to the class when they teach us how to potty train our dogs. Our initial plan with Gus was to avoid pad training and focus 100% on outside potty. Sadly, we ignorantly used some pads to protect the floor of the bathroom (which served as his kennel early on) and he trained himself to use them. When a little man is that smart, who am I to complain? He also knows what “outside” is. Whenever we ask the dogs if they want to go outside he makes a bee-line for the door. Genius. Sheer GENIUS!! I am starting to worry that my dog may be smarter than his owner.
All this puppy love reminded the DH and me that we had intended to sign the monkey up for obedience classes. Ten minutes later the deed was done. Our first class is January 13th. Of course, in order to not embarrass ourselves, we’ve already started prepping him for what is to come. It only took a few 5-minute sessions for him to learn how to “sit”. A butt-load of treats also helped seal the deal. It’s still a work in progress and sometimes we have to point to the floor when we give the command, but now he will do it even if there aren’t treats involved. Staying put once his butt hits the floor is another story, but we plan on making “stay” the next goal.
I am most looking forward to the class when they teach us how to potty train our dogs. Our initial plan with Gus was to avoid pad training and focus 100% on outside potty. Sadly, we ignorantly used some pads to protect the floor of the bathroom (which served as his kennel early on) and he trained himself to use them. When a little man is that smart, who am I to complain? He also knows what “outside” is. Whenever we ask the dogs if they want to go outside he makes a bee-line for the door. Genius. Sheer GENIUS!! I am starting to worry that my dog may be smarter than his owner.
The thoughts in my head at 3 a.m.:
Why, when at the store, do I always end up behind the one geriatric woman who has never before used the automated bank-card machine?
Why does fore-mentioned geriatric woman attempt to use the machine without reading any of the machine’s prompts or looking at the symbols that demonstrate how to effectively pay for her purchase?
I swear that the mentally retarded people I work with would use that machine faster than that old Biddie did. And they wouldn’t smell like moth-balls while doing it!
Why does my monkey wait until my face is mere inches away before unleashing a snot-sneeze?
Ms.B
Why does fore-mentioned geriatric woman attempt to use the machine without reading any of the machine’s prompts or looking at the symbols that demonstrate how to effectively pay for her purchase?
I swear that the mentally retarded people I work with would use that machine faster than that old Biddie did. And they wouldn’t smell like moth-balls while doing it!
Why does my monkey wait until my face is mere inches away before unleashing a snot-sneeze?
Ms.B
Wednesday, January 3, 2007
Somebody stop me.
I only had the energy to hit one store after work, mostly due to the fact that I spent my break in the middle of the day searching through ebay and purchasing items to decorate a bathroom in the Haven. Found a lovely shower curtain for the midget tub as well as some towels and curtain hooks. It's gonna look so fine! But I degress. Back to the topic at hand: Me in a clothing store. I managed to find a bra. Woot! It was the most important purchase since my other bras are starting to lack the ability to hold my over-sized boobies in place.
**Sidenote: To all you girls out there who PAY good money to get titties, you are crazy! They are nothing but a pain in the neck, and the back, and the shoulders...**
Also found a couple of tops, two pairs of slacks, a jacket, and shoes. DH has not, as of yet, seen the shoes. If he does, I might just receive a scolding. We recently moved and I managed to fill two very large boxes with my footwear.
Ms.Behaved is gonna be styling now! Eat your heart out Fashion Police!
**Sidenote: To all you girls out there who PAY good money to get titties, you are crazy! They are nothing but a pain in the neck, and the back, and the shoulders...**
Also found a couple of tops, two pairs of slacks, a jacket, and shoes. DH has not, as of yet, seen the shoes. If he does, I might just receive a scolding. We recently moved and I managed to fill two very large boxes with my footwear.
Ms.Behaved is gonna be styling now! Eat your heart out Fashion Police!
Retail Therapy
.
DISCLAIMER: All Shopping-Aholics should be seated while reading this post. Ms.Behaved is not to be held liable if you should happen to fall over and hurt yourself.
Today,when the work shift is through, Ms.Behaved is going shopping.
Ms.B's Deep Dark Confession #2: Ihate avoid shopping trips.
Most of the people I know, including the DH, are the exact opposite. A trip to the mall or local retail outlet brings a glint to their eye and happy endorphins surge through their bodies. I've never been much of a shopper. Not even as a teen in highschool when the "cool kids" spent all their free time mall hopping. I am what I refer to as a people watcher. When I am in a store I am fascinated by the goofy customers there. I couldn't care any less about the items on the shelf. Bliss is sitting in one spot and happily watch people fight over the last size 8 blouse or attempt to cram their feet into a shoe two sizes too small "because it is so HOT looking".
Unfortunatelly, if bras aren't purchased soon, I will become a cranky cranky woman. I can no longer be the observant bystander. I must actually SHOP!! pout And while I am there, I might as well see what else is available. After much time patiently listening to me bitch about having nothing to wear, the DH has commanded that I take the money I got for Christmas and buy buy buy. sigh
The things I do for love.
DISCLAIMER: All Shopping-Aholics should be seated while reading this post. Ms.Behaved is not to be held liable if you should happen to fall over and hurt yourself.
Today,when the work shift is through, Ms.Behaved is going shopping.
Ms.B's Deep Dark Confession #2: I
Most of the people I know, including the DH, are the exact opposite. A trip to the mall or local retail outlet brings a glint to their eye and happy endorphins surge through their bodies. I've never been much of a shopper. Not even as a teen in highschool when the "cool kids" spent all their free time mall hopping. I am what I refer to as a people watcher. When I am in a store I am fascinated by the goofy customers there. I couldn't care any less about the items on the shelf. Bliss is sitting in one spot and happily watch people fight over the last size 8 blouse or attempt to cram their feet into a shoe two sizes too small "because it is so HOT looking".
Unfortunatelly, if bras aren't purchased soon, I will become a cranky cranky woman. I can no longer be the observant bystander. I must actually SHOP!! pout And while I am there, I might as well see what else is available. After much time patiently listening to me bitch about having nothing to wear, the DH has commanded that I take the money I got for Christmas and buy buy buy. sigh
The things I do for love.
If I didn't have legs...
Why does it seem that as the average height of people on this planet grows larger, the bathtubs get smaller? I swear, to use the average bathtub these days you have to twist yourself into a pretzel in order to fit inside. How is that relaxing? And how are you supposed to keep yourself clean if half of you can't even get under the water to rinse off? The bathrooms in the Haven were originally designed for a family of people who averaged 4'9". Of that, I have no doubt. *grumble grumble*
Ms.B
Ms.B
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