Dog shaming...a long winded story.

My dog lost her mind last night. No, seriously. I think she left it in the grass with her evening constitutional. It started about 2am. I take that back. It started with a maple frosted cupcake around nine. After spending a fun evening with friends, Huck and I were sent home with some fabulously moist cupcakes with maple butter-cream frosting. I did not have the opportunity to have one earlier so when we arrived home I brought two up to the TV room for a treat after I took the girls out for their evening walk. One for me, one for Huck. I left them on the coffee table and went to change my clothes and ready for a quiet evening on the couch.

When I walked back into the den I see Sunshine chowing down on something. She's standing with her back end towards me and her tail tucked trying to hurriedly woof down whatever it was she got. The tucked tail gave her away - it told me she was chewing on something she shouldn't be chewing on. I ask, "What you chewing on, Sunshine?" Like she understood the question she makes this grand gesture of quickly swallowing any evidence of what she had gotten in to and slowly turns her head toward my voice. I immediately look to the table to see, low and behold, a missing cupcake. Oh, for Pete's sake! 

She does this too.

Around 2am the shenanigans began. It started with her jumping into bed. Normally this isn't an issue because she settles right away and doesn't bother anyone save slowly pushing her way deeper into the bed. No, this time she jumped into the bed and stood over me panting in my face. I thought nothing of it and pushed her back to the floor. There is no thunder storm. No lightning, No rain. Dejected, she went into the corners of each room and started digging - scrubbing her nails like she's trying to make a bed. After that didn't satisfy her she tried the bed again. This time I allowed her to lay down next to me near my head but she just kept panting in my face. Hot dog breath in my face is not the best sleeping  environment. So I pushed her on to the floor again for her to go from one bathroom to the next and back again trying to hide behind the toilet. I know this because I heard the garbage cans move around. Now she comes back again but only jumps half way up to paw at me. And pant in my face. Crap! It then dawns on me after fighting her off for 45 minutes...the cupcake might be upsetting her. Out of bed I go to take her and Annie out. Yeah, Annie is the angel this time. She only roused from sleep because I got out of bed. She was happy for the late night adventure and even more happy to settle back down to sleep after.

After our quick middle of the night walk we are back upstairs and I am back in bed. But the shenanigans ensued. Up on the bed panting over my head. Shove her down. Back up. Moving garbage cans in the bathrooms. Pawing at me from the floor. I get up and go lay on the couch. She climbs up with me but stays down by my feet. She finally settles down and I fall asleep for a while. She seemed settled but was woken up to her panting again. She was fine when I took her out earlier and no evidence of a tummy upset so another late night walk was not necessary. Maybe it was the large amount of sugar just messing with her. I dunno. She settled again. I fell asleep for a bit, woke up again, and went back to bed with her tucked in under my Dolphin's squishy blanket. That of course didn't last long. It is now 4:30am. I am frustrated. I am getting angry. All I want is to sleep! So I go back out to the couch with her and she's settled in again and my back is screaming. And my body hurts. But if this is the only way to calm the dog so I can sleep I'll take it! Then I heard it. 

If smoke detectors are plugged into an electric source, why the FUCK do we have to put batteries into them? The dog lost her mind over the repetitive chirp of a dying battery in a smoke detector downstairs. I was instantly pissed when I realized what the hec was going on. OMG!!! down the stairs I go, drag the freakin' dining room chair over, climb up, and rip the effing thing right off the ceiling - wires and everything, I couldn't get the fucking battery out of it fast enough! How did I not hear this for the several hours before? My goodness it could have saved me a lot of aggravation. Amazingly my old girl Annie was curled up in a ball sound asleep the whole time. Hard of hearing to deaf. Whatever stage she is at good for her. She missed the drama. 

I was finally able to go to sleep at 5:30 this morning. 

My sweet puppy Sunshine's very rude behavior last night served as a not so pleasant reminder of life as a young mother with a new born baby. There were many sleepless nights much like last night.  Dealing with Sunshine was like dealing with a cranky sleepless baby, my Punk. I don't think I slept the first six months of his life. Really. Today has been rather busy. Busier than I expected so there was no opportunity for a nap. Now here I am, it's getting late, and I'm blogging about a sleepless night like y'all care. I think I'll go to bed now. Well, by midnight. LOL!

Yes, I am a slight bit ornery.

New Year’s Eve was quiet. New Year’s Day was just as quiet. We spent the afternoon with friends eating chili and watching the games. I made a corn bread that turned out pretty bland, but this was on purpose. My Huck immediately knew it wasn't my normal but that was because I was advised the clan isn't big on big flavors. So I toned down my normal flair for adding spices and whatnot to create the semi-home made love on a plate I'm known to make (I also used a box mix that is not my normal brand). Well, the lady of the house ate it and from what I understand that’s almost a miracle. Snaps for me! The man of the house was a little riled up though, thankfully not about my bland corn bread. There was talk about an annual Christmas letter sent out by Huck's parents and how I was mentioned at least five times or so and not even one peep about him. He was puzzled why he wasn't mentioned considering how much he loves them, possibly even more than their own son ;) I was promised I would be able to read the annual recap but still haven’t seen this letter. I figured if they said anything bad I wouldn't have heard about it second hand. But yes, that’s your sweet Baby Girl, dropping a casual hint. 

Our friends had sent us home with a ton of fried chicken. I decided to make potato salad to go with it for dinner the next day so I asked Huck if he wanted old fashioned or German style. He wanted to test my abilities and decided German style was the best way to do so. Challenge accepted! Well, I searched the Inter-webs high and low for a suitable variation of what to me is an authentic German style potato salad. What I did not realize is the traditional recipes do not call for mayonnaise or sour cream and that truly surprised me. I figured I had been wrong in my thinking all these years and decided to follow one of the traditional recipes found on the Inter-webs. I will say I am so proud of how good it tasted! And then I served it. Huck looked at it like a confused puppy. You know, with his head tilted to the right? He was instantly skeptical. I think he almost didn't try it. He kept eyeballing it like it was going to leap out of the serving dish. Why? It looked nothing like his mother’s traditional German style potato salad with mayo and tomatoes (which he grew up eating) made from a recipe given by a German cook while in Germany. Go figure.

With potatoes remaining and taking up space in the pantry I decided it was a great idea to make potato soup. A friend from work was telling me how good her recipe was so I asked her to share and she did obligingly. I stopped at the grocer on the way home to pick up a few missing items. When I got home I took care of the fur-babies, Annie and Sunshine. After they had their evening constitutional I got to work on the soup. As everything starts to come together I realize, wow! This is darn good soup! I text Huck to tell him I might be getting arrested. He text me back immediately asking what on earth was going on. I responded, “My potato soup is so good it’s criminal!” He didn't find the humor in that. I think I actually gave him a mini heart attack. I can't cry wolf ever again that's for sure. I'll of course never reach his level of ornery. Huck is still, and will remain, the King and Master of Ornery - I'll never reach his level because I'm him but nicer. I will admit here the whole "getting arrested" idea is slightly borrowed but totally spun out to fit right in to my level of ornery. It brings me back to the times I used to tell the Lady stories about my after school adventures with Hawaii and Re-run. A few times I think she actually believed me!

Vietnamese bánh gio or Echto-slime

Huck and I will be spending a low key Martin Luther King Day together. We have a day trip planned to Northern Cuba to get some personal business out of the way. When I lived down that way years ago my daddy and I found a little street side market that sells exotic local fruit and vegetables. I’ll be taking Huck there to check it out. They make juices, smoothies, and shakes so I am anxious to try one since I never did while I lived down there. I’m bent on getting Huck to try something new though his trust threshold with my suggestions is low at this point (the Vietnamese echto-slime and Into the Woods come to mind) but this adventure will hopefully provide me with some story material to share with y'all in the future.

Are you, like, a mental person?

I didn't sleep well last night. I avoided the late night sweet, didn't eat dinner too late, and even took a melatonin. I forced myself to go to bed every night with the goal to be head-on-pillow by midnight. I made it to pillow time by 12:15am. Not bad. I fell asleep pretty quickly after I said my ritual good night prayers and love you's. I don't know how long I was asleep but while in a deep dream sleep, I was rudely woken up. It wasn't a strange or loud noise that woke me up. I wasn't hot. No trains passing by. No planes flying over. The low hum of the fan continued it's soothing pass left and right. What woke me up then? I woke up because I felt like I was being watched. 

And who was watching me? My chicken-ass, panicked, anxious drooling, 70 pound puppy dog was standing over me looking right into my face while panting in panic. You see, it was raining last night. Rain is occasionally accompanied by thunder. And lightning. When you merge the sound of rain, the boom of thunder, and bright flashes of light through dilapidated blinds what do you think happens? You get one very anxious dog that can't decide if she wants to be comforted or flee for her life. When I say flee for her life I mean she just hides behind the bathroom door until the noise stops. So I spent the night with my dog working herself into a lather over a little thunderstorm. She panted constantly, yes, in my face and couldn't get comfortable since I was laying in her spot. The middle of the bed. When she finally settled down she was tail towards me and since she stop acting squirrelly I could finally fall back to sleep. But then...Yeah, in Sunshine's overwhelming fear of thunderstorms, she passed the most noxious anxiety induced gas right at my face. For the love of God!

The damp weather we've had the past few days has been a bitch. I have my follow up appointment with the Rheumatologist tomorrow. We will be discussing the results of my blood work and I guess talk about what's next. I'm a little freaked out. I know Fibromyalgia isn't too big a deal and since it isn't a progressive disease I don't have to worry about getting worse over time. If that is indeed what I have then my concern becomes how to mange the pain on my bad days. I don't believe I have rheumatoid anymore. The doc did bring up Lupus. Some things point to that but some things don't at all. It's just so frustrating that I hurt when I shouldn't hurt. All over, like I have the flu. When it's damp and cold it's worse. I've also decided the medications used to treat Fibromyalgia come with may too many side effects I'd rather not experience. I'm good with Aleeve when I'm having a bad day. How strange is it that I could have this pain for so long and all of sudden it becomes amplified because it now may have a name? Isn't that a psychological response of some sort? Ok, ok. I guess this means I'm mental. Some of you are nodding your head in agreement, aren't you? Stahp!

Into the Woods...NO! Let me out! Please! Please, just stop singing!

I've always been a fan of Grimm's fairy tales since my father read them to me as a little girl. The mashing of the four more well known stories brought to life in this way (yes, I understand it was a Broadway musical first of which I never saw) was quite interesting and took forever to get to the end. Just when you thought it was a good time to wrap things up they started singing again! I'm telling you, it felt like I was sitting in the movie theater recliner for much longer than just two hours! A few actors all did well portraying their version of the characters which is the most positive thing I have to say about this film.

Anna Kendrick was fantastic but then I am a Pitch Perfect fan. Same goes fer Meryl Streep - is there anything she can't do? I still feel my most favorite role of her's is in Sophie's Choice. Chris Pine - I did not know he was a comedic vocalist. Whether he was supposed to be or not, I couldn't help but chuckle, rather laugh out loud, during his princely duet. Then it got weird. Johnny Depp as the Big Bad Wolf...let's just say he came off more as a creepy pedophile than a wild animal stalking his prey. So, all that aside, syncopated speech is not for everyone. Lulu warned me. Though I do not have an aversion to syncopated speech - have performed that way myself in high school drama classes, I am afraid I am no longer allowed to make movie date suggestions. My Huck has put me on movie picking suspension - I fear it may be permanent after this disaster.

For a slow and boring day, time sure has passed pretty quickly. I had good intentions for productivity today. Instead I found yet another game on Facebook to play. I did manage to get a few things scratched off my to-do list. Took the garbage out, made the bed, emptied the dishwasher, and got the ornament boxes out of the garage. My goal today was to take the Christmas tree down. Yeah, not happening. At least I got the boxes for the ornaments out of the garage-that's a good start. Now I'm ready to finish my day with a whole lot of nothing.

The cool points are out the window and I'm all twisted up in the game...

I had a lot on my mind this morning and started writing. I was hitting the key board pretty hard for a little while then stopped for a bit. Started back up. Stopped again. I finally took a break from writing to start some laundry, walk the dogs, and grab some food. It was my intention to publicly explain the choices I made with regard to the reasons I married. It actually was something that I very recently realized about myself. It was also a topic of conversation with Huck the other night which started the flooding thoughts. So, in short, I recently realized  each time I married I had an agenda. I had a motive. I married for reasons outside of love. When I reread what was written I thought, "who gives a fuck?" In two keystrokes I deleted what I wrote from the screen. Why the hec am I so focused on the ghosts of relationships past? Does it really matter anymore?

Once upon a time this incredible handsome guy popped in to my life quite unexpectedly. I honestly was beginning to prepare for life as the crazy dog lady in a small house near the ocean, you know, with four Golden Retrievers under foot. I already have two. Two more wouldn't be much more trouble. Anyway, at first I thought this dude was just going to be a great friend. We shared some life experiences in parallel universes and found we even like doing some of the same things like traveling and dining out. Then one night after a well deserved happy hour he kissed me. I admit, after getting to know him a bit more I wanted to be kissed by him pretty badly but holy shit, that kiss...that first kiss...that electrifying, heart stopping, toe curling zap was felt to the core of my existence. And every time since? I feel the same zing and tingle when he kisses me - yes, the butterflies line up in a Conga line.

Visiting those ghosts again helped me realize the adjustments I vowed to make before Huck and I began dating gave us a chance at a very happy future relationship. I can now appreciate the importance of how my past has no power over me any longer. I was living the definition of insanity with my past relationships - you know, doing the same things over and over yet expecting different results? After striking out three times and being kicked off the field I realized I was the one who needed to change if I wanted to be happy. So I set out to adjust my attitude and rewrite my list of expectations. I knew I needed to do things much differently than I had done in the past. The very first rewrite on my list?

DON'T EXPECT ANYTHING.

Yes. This is a very important key point of my self revelation. I used to have all these preconceived notions of what  a relationship was supposed to be (based on the Lady's training) and how a relationship was supposed to play out (again, based on the Lady's training). I still have some conventional expectations like mutual respect, kindness, and not taking each other for granted. Those are a given. I'm talking about all the other typical chick expectations. The things that would make a man like Huck cringe and run like Forrest. You know, anything that involves neutering. This is one thing I now reject from the Lady's teaching. No, no, no...men are to be men. Lions. King of the jungle and everywhere the light touches.

I think giving up those typical chick expectations is what opened my heart and allowed my spirit to be available for experiencing true love. Letting go of relationship wrecking expectations has allowed me to finally understand what love is and what love means. Love is about how we can make each other better. It isn't about how we can benefit from the things we each bring to the table. All I want is to love Huck and have his love in return. Its that simple.

'Tis the Season

For the first time in my working life I am able to take a large block of time off for vacation. In the next two weeks I will be waking up when I feel like it and going to bed when I can't fight off the sandman any longer. So far it's been going pretty well. Unfortunately, I forgot to shut off my alarm so I was up at 7:45am today. No matter. I spent a very leisure morning watching Hallmark movies and drinking coffee in my now favorite "Litt Up" mug. Around ten I got a wild hair up my butt and decided to finish my errands that could wait until next weekend. Really, just a trip to Target and the dollar store for non-essential essentials if that makes sense.

This time of year it seems the general public as a whole is incredibly rude and terribly impatient. Not much more than normal down here in South Florida though. We have such a high concentration of assholes year round but the jackassness of everyone just becomes exponential around Christmas time. An overly commercialized holiday creates a desperation in people to spend money on gifts that most recipients don't need or want. This feeling of obligation in turn leads to stressed out and frazzled folk that really just need to step back and reevaluate why they are being rude and inconsiderate for no good reason. You probably shouldn't have procrastinated bub so unwad your panties please. I have no pity for your poor planning so don't take it out on me. I find people in general don't put any thought into gift selection and the spirit of giving. There is no creativity. There is no feeling behind the purpose of the gift. No meaning in some cases. I love searching for the perfect gift. Shopping for someone is delightful and brings me joy. Occasionally I'm lucky and find the right item right away and sometimes it's weeks of searching  and wracking my brain for ideas until I find what I feel is an appropriate and heartfelt gift.

Sometimes my gift is handmade or customized in some crafty way. Hand made gifts come in many forms. Sometimes it's an actual craft. Sometimes it's a crafty customization. Not all of my projects turn out well. This year I attempted to decorate an unfinished picture frame for it to only look like something a four year old created. Huck was a gem and said it looked good but there is no way in hell I am giving that as a gift to anyone! I kept it for myself as a reminder that I am not the craftiest bitch in the world sometimes. I probably needed to wait to sober up some from the Bloody Mary drink-a-thon I participated in before I started the project. Doesn't alcohol reduce our ability to make good decisions?  

All that aside, I have to tell you, my Huck is THE BEST gift giver in the history of ever. Yes, I'm gloating again about how incredible my man is and how wonderfully he treats me so suck it. I really don't know how he manages to do it but each and every gift I've received from him is not only thoughtful but unique. His gifts solidify a shared sentiment or signify a moment in our new life together that is frankly making me a little misty eyed now because I miss him. We were just starting to pick up momentum around this time last year so our gift giving was simple. Now we know each other which means the pressure is on so to speak. So yeah, I'm a little nervous. I have no doubt he's done well with his choices for me since he always has (his packages for me take up half the space under the tree-man lost his mind). Is it possible to be excited and a little freaked out at the same time? I'm counting the days till our Christmas and it 's not about the gifts. It's about creating more happy memories with the only man I choose to love...truly, madly, deeply...for the rest of my life.

Time for some ice cream!

Then I ran out, didn't grab no shoes or nothing...

I hurt today. A lot.

After waiting a few weeks I finally made it to a Rheumatologist. I have to tell you, I love using Google Maps for GPS while I am driving. I generally know where I am going but sometimes - ok, most times - I'm a bit off with time/distance. So I use the GPS to help me determine how much further I need to go. You see, it seems the places I want to get to are much further than I have displayed in my brain. This time/distance block drives a certain passenger a bit nutso especially when we have places to be. Yes, everywhere I want to go is right down the road and about 15 minutes drive away. Not really.

Anywho, the doctor and I talked about how I was feeling and how long I've felt pain. We discussed rheumatoid and its progressive effects. A detailed conversation about family medical history was covered. Then the physical exam was done. Now, this little bit of a woman pressed areas on my body that made me cry out in distress. I sounded like a feeble, weak female each time she pressed on me. For crying out loud. I live everyday in some form of pain and I manage it in a way that it doesn't phase me for the most part. I have a high threshold I guess. If I am feeling a 5 or 6 on the scale it's likely an average person's 9 or 10.  If I can be in pain all the time how is it this little woman can bring me to near tears simply by putting slight pressure on various points? I suddenly felt betrayed by my body.

After the physical exam the doctor asked me if I ever heard of fibromyalgia. Well, yeah I have actually. She proceeded to explain why she felt my pain was caused by fibromyalgia versus rheumatoid arthritis. The pain I felt was in soft tissue indicating a nerve problem rather than pain in the joint itself. The most strange sensation of pain comes from a numbness that causes tingling. The tingling feels like my skin is crawling literally. It's almost a vibration. This sensation also makes me feel like I itch. From what I understand fibromyalgia is a common diagnosis for people that have unexplained pain. Ok, so blood tests were ordered to rule out the possibility of rheumatoid and other diseases that look like rheumatoid.

And while I wait for answers, I hurt. Today is a bad day. Today the weather turned cold. The cold is fucking with me in a mean way. I am stiff, achy, and sore. I love winters here in Florida. The skies are clear and blue. The air is crisp and fresh. But today I want to curl up in the fetal position and cry myself to sleep. Whatever it is that is making me hurt, it sucks. There is nothing I can do short of manage the pain. I honestly couldn't tell you how long I've hurt this way but recent events have brought it to the forefront. I refuse to let it rule my life whatever it is. I will continue to do all I do and then some. Now, I'mma get me a cold pop.