Scooting.
April 16, 2008
Calling all dog owners and warning all dog owner wannabies. When your dog does that adorable little scooting thing across the floor…run…run far away. It turns out there is nothing adorable about it. Scooting is a sign of jacked up anal glands (also called anal sacs). I’ve had dogs all my life, but never one with an anus that needs so much attention. Our dog Wilbur has apparently lost the ability to deal with his hindparts on his own. He now requires a monthly trip to the vet for the “procedure.” When it first started happening, my husband and I thought we could resolve the issue at home. A pair of rubber gloves and some Vaseline and voilá. Well, it didn’t really go as planned. Wilbur panicked and my husband almost lost a hand. So, off to the vet we go. And $12 later, he’s all fixed up. The best $12 we spend every month.
Jazzercise.
April 15, 2008
I have to post about Jazzercise because I think it gets a bad rap. A good friend of mine is an instructor and convinced me to join about two years ago. I took a hiatus while I was pregnant (bad idea) and just started back in March. Jazzercise is this whole total body workout thing. It’s cardio, it’s stretch, it’s strength training. It’s really a lot of fun. So, why the bad rap? Well, the cardio is a series of dance moves, somewhat reminiscent of the 80s…a little “Flashdance,” if you will. One of my instructors dons the Olivia Newton-John headband and I’m sure an off-the-shoulder sweatshirt has made its way into the class. Some of the moves have names, like “Attitude” and “Sugar,” and every once in a while this hip gyrating thing starts to happen. But, if you open your mind and embrace the madness, I guarantee you’ll get one of the best workouts ever. Just add in those leg warmers and you’ll burn some extra calories.
Spade-ism #5.
April 14, 2008
He was as nervous as a long-tailed cat in a room full of rockers.
American Idol.
April 11, 2008
I usually don’t get caught up in television shows. Especially not a series, because if you miss one, you fall behind and never really catch up with the storyline. American Idol, on the other hand, is something you can get sucked into one week and then not watch again until the finale. It’s obvious who’s made it and who’s gotten cut, so you’re right back in the thrill of it the next time you tune in. This season, I’ve accidentally been watching a few episodes. And, I must say, last night’s events have me speechless. Are you kidding me? How could America cut Michael Johns? How could the American Idol producers let that happen. The guy is obviously a rocker. Anyone who can throw down some “Bohemian Rhapsody” sober, and minus the karaoke machine, deserves to be in it until the end. I’m appalled. If that 17 year old wins it, I’m moving to Canada.
Lint.
April 10, 2008
I’ve probably been doing my own laundry for about twenty years now, so I’d say I’ve emptied a lint filter at least 1,000 times. Tonight was no different than any other laundry night, but for some reason I became mesmerized by the lint. Where on earth does lint come from? You would think (by the amount of lint caught in the filter) that I was walking around all day, every day, with huge fuzzy fluff all over my clothes. But, I know this is not the case. A few dog hairs, maybe, but no fuzzy fluff over here. However, every time I open that filter, there’s enough lint in there to make a whole new outfit…maybe two. So, I decided to Google “lint,” and according to Ted Prewitt (no idea who he is), it turns out there’s a lot to be done with it:
- In the spring and summer, put dryer lint and bits of string on tree branches so that birds can use it to build nests.
- Place lint under kindling and use it as tinder.
- Use lint as padding when shipping small items through the mail.
Lint…my new best friend.
Spit-up.
April 9, 2008
I had a moment today. A moment of inspiration. Much like the moment Ben Franklin had when he decided to fly a kite in a lightening storm. It happened in the Kroger parking lot. I stepped out of my car and walked around to the other side to retrieve my child. I lifted him out of his car seat and started walking towards the store. Within seconds, a familiar friend decided to join us…spit-up. Not down the front of his bib where it should have fallen, but all over the front of my shirt instead. And, at that exact moment, I realized, “Kids don’t need to be wearing bibs, moms do.” Stay tuned. My “mibs” (short for mom bibs) will be hitting stores soon.
Spade-ism #4.
April 9, 2008
She’s crazier than a shit-house rat.
Thyroid.
April 8, 2008
I had my thyroid checked today…and my liver, my kidneys, and pituitary gland. The doctor is trying to decide if my muffin top is the result of a medical issue or just too much cheese dip. I think he really should have been checking my mouth, to see if it needs to be wired shut permanently. The nurse took four vials of blood, which seemed like a lot to me (too bad she didn’t weigh me after she took the blood). Of course, she was the size of a pencil. Why is it every time I have to get on the scale at the doctor, the nurse weighing me is the size of my forearm? I didn’t even look at the scale. I just stared out into space thinking, “This better be a thyroid issue, because I can’t give up cheese dip.” Then the thought hit me, “What if it’s not the thyroid?” “What should I do then?” “Exercise?” “Eat less?” And then finally, a solution. Just lie.
$400.
April 7, 2008
We had the ol’ garage sale on Saturday. It rained, so our turnout was not what we expected (not that I knew what to expect, since I’ve never had a garage sale before). We made about $400, which averages out to about $2 an hour, when you consider the amount of time that went into preparing for the dang thing. The best news is that we somehow let our neighbor talk us into another sale in June—more of a neighborhood thing—so, half of our garage is packed full of the crap we didn’t sell. Glory days. I am so excited about the next sale, I can hardly contain myself. I did learn two lessons this past go around and am going to share them with you, in case you too suffer from temporary insanity and agree to host a sale of your own: 1) When you place your ad, make it short and sweet, “Garage sale. Saturday, April 5. 8am-12pm. Free beer.” 2) Whether you price something at $40 or $4, people will always ask, “How about $1 for it,” so be ready to barter or be ready to make a whopping $400 for the day.
Hangover.
April 6, 2008
The crawfish were not the only things boiled last night. Apparently, I also boiled my brain with a few vodka cocktails. Until tomorrow…
