... is waiting until the dye develops and then finding all the things you've stained. Today's victims: my bathroom sink, counter, and various body parts. While rinsing I also got it on my daughter's new fairy towel, which I washed with fervor and prayers; thankfully, it came clean. Whew!
Previous victims have included my bathroom door, which now has some kind of modern art look to it.
I was in a fancy mall tonight (fancy=all stores too expensive for me to actually shop in) and, of course, I had to go to the bathroom. THIS is the hallway I had to walk down before turning the corner into a lobby area AND THEN turning into the bathroom. By the time I got back out to the mall, I had to pee again. Plus, I had this whole fight-or-flight thing going on because people get attacked/mugged/stolen in long, creepy, semi-deserted hallways, right?
Anyway, see the guy wayyyyyyy at the beginning of the hallway? (I took this picture on my way out.) That's my husband, possibly dying from boredom. Or reading ESPN.com on his phone. They are pretty much the same anyway.
I went in for my instillation today, obviously. My nurse made a little squeally noise in excitement while fetching my sample and she told me how much she enjoyed basically getting to handle cups filled with my pee. My work here is done. Until next time.
And now for some Christmas laughs, brought to you by the Muppets. Thanks to my facebook friend Jeanette, who found this gem, which my kids watched about 10 times today while laughing fiendishly.
A few days ago, my 14-year-old self was crushed to hear this on the radio:
Goodness knows, one of the only good things about that song is that it was sung by a very young George Michael. My junior high school friends and I would gladly have found the girl who broke his heart* and punched her in the neck. Twice.
And now Taylor Swift has done a remake? A world of no, people.
This is the only version of Last Christmas that matters:
I still love you, George. Just not, you know, THAT way.
Right now I'm in the midst of an email conversation with a tech person. I sign every email "Thanks, Brenna" and she starts every email response with "Hi Brenda." It's like a passive aggressive way of saying that my parents can't spell.
This week I worked feverishly to format the contents of the March issue of Clean Run Magazine. Made my deadline by about two hours. Impressive that I timed it out that well, right? Early is for chickens.
On Saturday, I packed up eight portable dog crates that are part of my crate review article (due on January 1), a box of 50 munchkins from Dunkin Donuts, and a photographer friend and took them all to a trial about 30 minutes from my house. Kelli Hayes from Pasco Paws allowed me to use some space at her trial to ask competitors to rate the crates I brought. My photographer, Linda Galgani, took about 50 gazillon pictures of dogs in the crates for potential use in Clean Run. I couldn't believe that so many people gave me a good chunk of their time. Dog people can be so nice! That article should be out in April, although sometimes things get moved.
I also can't believe that my fingers still hurt from opening/closing/assembling/disassembling crates while I was demonstrating them. I type an awful lot and never have sore fingers from that so I really was surprised that a day of crate demos would make for soreness lasting for days. That's some kind of crazy.
I now have had at least three different people tell me that they've thought of me when leaving urine samples or having other medical tests. These are people that I only know on the internet. I'm super proud to be so awesomely famous that you all think of me in your most humble moments. Or something.
On a completely non-work-related note, I got tickets to see Evanescence in concert in January. In the third row. In the exact center. I'm seven kinds of excited about this! I've loved them since the beginning but I've never gotten to see them in concert. In fact, I've not been to a concert in ages because my old favorites, Pearl Jam and Tori Amos, have forgotten the Tampa Bay area over the last few years. I'm trying not to be too bitter about that.
So here's a sample of Evanescence playing with an orchestra at the Nobel Peace Prize concert today. Picture me in the third row of this show, smiling and shouting asinine things like "We love you Amy Lee!" There's nothing weird about a 40-year-old woman doing anything like that, right?
What's better than Evanescence? EVANESCENCE WITH STRINGS:
At my friendly neighborhood Pet Supermarket, this spider cage sits up on a shelf so high that I had to hold my phone over my head to take a picture of it. Don't go looking for the spider. He's ALLEGEDLY under the bedding. I just thought the information on the cage was so interesting that I had to take a picture of it.
While I was snapping away, a salesman came over to see if I needed help. I told him I was fascinated by the outstanding sales pitch on the cage. He told me that the tarantula, which is only a quarter-sized baby, bit him when it poked it to see if it was still alive (idiot). The bite on the tip of his finger left bruising that extended ALL THE WAY UP TO HIS ELBOW. FOR MONTHS!
The "friendly" adult tarantula in the cage next door only cost $15 because he's not as pretty as this attack-ula apparently will be when he grows up. So basically they are waiting for the right person who doesn't mind risking life and limb owning an aggressive spider BECAUSE IT IS PRETTY.
Can you imagine if it got out of its cage in your house? You could never sleep again.
The Boy has his first project to do for school. He has to pick a country and then research what people in that country do for Christmas or a similar holiday. Then he has to compare and contrast that country's Christmas customs with those in the United States. Several countries were listed on a "don't do" list because those countries are going to be studied in class.
Last week we had a lengthy discussion (read: argument) about why he couldn't choose the U.S. even though it wasn't on the "don't do" list. He was quite determined. Over the next few days I made some suggestions, including Australia and Canada, where I know a few people and could get information via email. He finally chose China and today we started researching it. After I put him in bed tonight, I asked him this question:
Me: How did you choose China?
The Boy [with a big smile]: I chose it because it sounds like angina. Chest pain.
[We both laughed.]
Me: How do you know what angina is?
The Boy: iCarly.
I guess I should consider myself lucky that it's ANGINA that he's rhyming it with.
It was a quiet week for the online version of me. I wrote a few uncredited announcements for USDAA.com, but mostly I worked diligently on things that will appear in print or online later. The first of the month means that I always have at least one magazine article due to Clean Run (Everything You Want to Know About Agility But Were Afraid to Ask - you can see a copy from 2009 HERE), plus I need to upload and begin formatting all the articles that are submitted to Clean Run Magazine. The December 1 deadline is for articles appearing in the March issue. Isn't it amazing that magazines have to work that far ahead?
This month I also, probably stupidly, made the deadline for all material for the USDAA's quarterly newsletter to be due to the designer on the first. I want to get it out before the end of the month though, so that's what needed to be done. So I was doing excerpts from subscriber articles and writing an article of my own, plus an editor's letter, plus editing the president's letter.... I got it all in by December 2, which is just like December 1, only better. Right? Our last newsletter is HERE if you'd like to see it.
I also had three articles due to another magazine called DogSport. This month one article due was a brief one about the sport of K9 nose work, another about dock jumping, and the third about exercises for the sport of flyball. I attended a dock jumping practice a few weeks ago to help prepare for the second article. It was interesting. It looks like a fun sport if you have dogs that like to swim. I have dogs that don't go out in the rain, let alone swim, so I'm out. My Papillon is actually my most game dog. He might eventually like swimming, but I'm not sure jumping off a dock would be his cup of tea.
My formatting deadline for Clean Run is up next, so working on that and some other new administrative duties for the magazine will be absorbing me next, along with getting the week's worth of articles ready to post for subscribers on USDAA.com. Somewhere in there I need to keep working on my e-book for Clean Run, as well as do research for my article on portable crates, due to Clean Run on January 1. I'll be bringing seven crates with me to an agility trial next weekend for people to try out. The good part about that is that I'll be going to an agility trial with a photographer friend and no children. Fun! The bad part is having to haul seven crates. No normal 9-to-5 desk work for me!
One fun online experience this week was writing a haiku about hammers. It was inspired by some twitter buddies and wound up being posted in an article on this blog. Click HERE if you missed it. That article garnered one of my first pieces of comment spam. I left it on the blog because it makes me feel relevant :)
Another really cool online interaction involved Martika, a late 80s/early90s pop star who has developed a presence on twitter as @MartikaTunes. She's been working on new music and took some time out to ask her followers to follow various people. I sent her a note with a link to my blog and she immediately tweeted this out to her 13,000+ followers:
Today @lucysfootball and @lgalaviz, two twitter friends, starting sharing haiku about hammers. Why? I'm not sure. It's possible that they were trying to avoid doing something else (certainly that's not why *I* contributed). I'm not here to judge. But I can't pass up a chance to write haiku.