Attention:
Edward (Teddy) Geiger, please remove yourself from my brain.
Considering that For You I Will (Confidence) spent ONE MILLION YEARS bouncing around my brain before it bounced off into someone else’s brain, I don’t expect this request to be honored. Grrrr.
PS: Get a hair cut, boy!
So, my visit to the surgeon who performed my weight loss surgery is over for another year, thank god. I know I’ve mentioned that my surgeon is very good at what he does, but he’s not much for the warm and fuzzy bedside manner. Which is okay, except that I have to go see him every year and squirm through a torturous visit and he’s perfectly nice and all, I just don’t know.
I DON’T LIKE HIM.
I don’t have to like him, I know, but I sure do dread the yearly office visit. January just dragged by for me, because I knew I had that appointment at the beginning of February and I was so not looking forward to it. There’s always this awkward moment at the end of the office visit where he smiles and just looks at me, and I feel like he’s waiting for me to gush gratitude over how this surgery has changed my life and this surgery HAS changed my life, I can do things physically that I was never able to do before and I’m grateful for that, but I just don’t gush. I’m not a gusher.
(THAT’S WHAT SHE SAID!)
It’s probably all in my head, and I can deal with suffering through a ten-minute office visit once a year, but I’m sure glad it’s over with, is all I’m saying.
Once my visit was over and my appointment for next year was scheduled, I went to the health food store, since I was on that side of town. I really like this place, I always find some interesting new food to try. This time around I bought some animal crackers and some sesame sticks.
It wasn’t ’til Fred got home and looked at the animal crackers and read what it said on the box that I realized they were gluten-free, wheat-free, dairy/ casein free, egg free and trans fat free. We later determined that when they’d left out all that other stuff, they also left out the flavor.
It’s okay, the pigs’ll eat ’em!
(The sesame sticks were good, though.)
From there, I ran over to Sam’s Club because I was just about out of paper for the printer, and seeing as it’s February I figure it’s possibly time to get my ass in gear and move my 2008 files up to storage. To do that, I need hanging file folders, so I bought some ugly green ones at Sam’s. A box of white vinegar (two one-gallon bottles for less than $4!), 25 pounds of sugar, and a bag of pig’s ears (for the dogs), and I was out of there.
About the pig’s ears: Fred bought a small bag of pig’s ears for the dogs a while ago, and apparently the dogs are BIG FANS. We wondered if we might not be sending a bad signal to George and Gracie – “Here, have these pigs ears! And yes, those ARE pigs, and the only thing standing between you and their tasty, tasty ears is a flimsy gate! Good-night, we’re going inside now!”
But after some initial barkiness toward the pigs, the dogs pretty much ignore them now – though when we go into the pig yard, the dogs stand and look sadly at us, like “Why you givin’ them little weird animals yummy treats? We thought all the yummy treats was for US.”
Speaking of the dogs, back when I bought the Fling-ama-string, I also got a couple of these Humunga Tongues for the dogs. I’ve actually seen George running around with it in his mouth, with the tongue part hanging out, and it’s pretty funny looking, but I never have the camera with me when he’s doing it, of course.
They’ve started shredding the ends of the “tongues”, and there are bits of red plastic “tongue” spread across the back forty.
Dogs like to chew! Who knew?
I was going to make an appointment for Samba and Rumba to be spayed this week, but yesterday Samba started getting kind of whistly and sneezy, so I started her back on chlorpheniramine (which seems to be helping), and if she’s doing well by Friday I’ll call and make the appointment for next week.
There’s no big rush, though – Delmar, Lem, Marion and Claudette are still unadopted. My poor babies!
Last evening we took the baby gates at the bottom of the stairs down. Samba and Rumba did NOT know what to think about that – at first, they’d sneak down to the hallway, then at the first sight of Fred or I, they’d turn and run up the stairs to the landing. When we settled down to watch TV, they came down and explored, and even made it out as far as the living room for a while.
It wasn’t hard to get them back into their room last night, and they were quiet all night long, didn’t bang on the door demanding to be let out. I let them out this morning and for now I’m going to let them have the run of the house. So far, they’re spending most of their time running around the upstairs and occasionally coming down the stairs to see what’s going on.
Samba always looks like she’s smiling. I want to just pick her up and squeeze the stuffing out of her.
More kitten pics over at Love & Hisses.
From a garbage can to a tiny condo crammed between a set of concrete stairs and the hose reel in two short months! Who says the American Dream isn’t alive and well?
Previously
2008: “WHERE’S THE SCAR?! HERE ARE HIS WRISTS, WHERE’S THE SCAAAAAAAAAAR?!”
2007: No entry.
2006: No entry.
2005: How does one become a house appraiser?
2004: I told Fred about how little things remind me anew of our loss strike me when I’m least expecting it, and I cried again.
2003: And, oh and does fred annoy you? Not any more than I annoy him, probably. 🙂
2002: See something on the floor? Sit on it.
2001: No entry.
2000: Here’s a cute story to satiate your bitchypoo jones until then