Help me internets (please).

How do you know it's the right time, or at least a relatively ok time, to get a dog?



I really, really, really, really, really, really, reallyreallyreallyreally want a dog. Like bad. However, there's always an excuse not to commit to the whole thing. Like, they're expensive, messy, smelly, poopy, peey, furry, sheddingy, dirty, disobedient and potential relationship enders. All kinds of relationships. Ones with shoes, yards, fences, corners of couches, landlords and more.

On the minus side, I work about 20 minutes (with no traffic) from where I live, leaving me little time at home mornings and evenings. My typical schedule has me leaving the house about 7.20am and returning about 7.30 - 8pm. That's a lot of time away from a pup. However, I do have BF who offices at home, so it could be doable...

On the plus side, I am sure that I was more active without even trying when I had Zealand (dog lost to breakup '06). He was a big, goofy guy who needed lots and lots of walking and interaction with other folks and animals. So, there I was, day after day, him dragging me through the two mile loop at the dog park. Two miles a day, rain or shine, winter or summer adds up to a healthier me.

And yes, dogs are pricey, but I think the act of financial restraint and saving for something other than yourself is a worthwhile pursuit.

I feel like if I wait for everything to properly align, the soonest I'd get an animal is when they bring kittens to the old folks home.

So, in closing, I'd like one of these please.

No Whine Oh-Nine

You may not remember this. Turns out I'm not getting married to anyone, including myself.



While I kicked it up a notch at the gym, I didn't reach my goal, yet somehow managed to purchase a Le Creuset dutch over sometime in March. Don't ask. I extended my deadline through August and started a bootcamp class at my gym last week. Two days a week, one hour, 5.45 am. AWESOME! Right, in addition to doing something at the gym or outside every day but Sunday. I've actually been able to do it, and have been rewarded by gaining a pound. And being rendered a paraplegic.

Yesterday morning, we did stripper squats. Like 10,000. Naturally, I was quite good at them. What I'm not quite good at now is sitting up in bed, walking, leaning over, bending, driving, breathing, getting out of a chair, living. FUCK! That shit hurts! DOMS is kicking my ass. How am I supposed to run tonight so that I don't suck ass even worse tomorrow morning? F U vicious cycle! I will prevail. It's only six weeks. I can do anything for six weeks, especially if it involves not getting a hair cut, washing my car, or paying bills.

Also, how many ibuprofen is too much? Are too much. I think i just got my answer.




Bath time!

It's Friday, I'm in Love

with the most wonderful time of the year! No, not when all of my STD tests come back negative, but... wait for it... Girl Scout Cookie time! They're everywhere and they're delicious, so head out to your nearest Wal-Mart because these little ladies are sitting at a table in front, mopping up the drool from the "greeter," waiting to take your money. I only eat Thin Mints, Shortbread and Peanut Butter Patties. I am a boring purist. It would take at least $5 to get me to eat a Samoa because those things are gross and even look gross. MMMMMMMM!

It's Saturday, I'm in Love

because Friday did that thing where someone goes, 'hey, what's on your shoes' and then punches you in the face or something. First of all, I was out of oatmeal. Bad news bears. Secondly, I'd finished the last of my Diet Coke Plus 12 pack Thursday, third(ly) my lovely work studies bailed on me leaving early for Fall Break, which left me to do my job all alone with no lunch. WTF? I left for lunch at 4.30. That's when my mom called and told me I'd be meeting her for dinner at exactly 5, because she'd had a horrible day, needed a drink and needed someone to drive her home. Great. Although I enjoyed my expensive margarita (never frozen, never made from a mix, that's just wrong), my buzz was punctuated with poignant old family chestnuts like "you never support me," "why are you never on my side," and "you don't love me because you never support me and are never on my side" when Mom was describing the trials and tribulations that come with being a professional tween wrangler. I feel for her, I do, but I try to help when I guess what she really wants is for me to shut up, nod and order another round. Lesson learned. The point of this is that Friday sucked. I'm trying again today, although today has HUGE potential suck factor because today is THE OU/TEXAS GAME!!!!!

Oh yes. The game so big and ugly it can't be played in the hometown of either team. Also, it's the biggest rivalry and game of the conference, I would argue, so sure, Oklahoma, let Texas gain all the profit of your hard work. Dallas needs more money, Lord knows. Anyway, I have a bad feeling about this. You will all hate me, but I think getting our nuts ripped off by Colorado will have not an invigorating effect, but rather, I think it's a slippery slope to OSU land from here (although, OSU is playing A&M for the Big 12 South title today because we're retarded and lost). Anyway, I have a bad feeling. Or maybe it's just about the traffic. You see, in my infinite wisdom, I have decided to drive to Dallas, not for the game per se (because I think it would be heartbreaking, also, I don't have $1500 for a ticket and my cast iron liver is more porcelain these days) but because Rilo Kiley's playing. Yay! You may hate on Under The Blacklight, but I'm into it. Also, I have a mad crush on Jenny, just like everyone else. I'm on my way soon, but probably only to spend six maddening hours in traffic, and miss the beginning of the game, because I am smart like that. So, friends, since I don't ask much of you, please please please do whatever you do to make sure your team wins, but replace your team with OU. K? Thx.

It's on!

Meg and I had an idea the other day. Scary, I know. Click HERE to find out more about Blog of Love. This shit is real, so Bee-Spot nominees better step up.





of

Do you like Harry Potter? No... I LOVE him.

Live blogging the HPVII.

10:57 Scene of the Crime.

11:03 Pre-game.

12:48 (after quick trip to book store) Success!

No sleep till Brooklyn!

Because I am totally obsessed with Journey and blogs,

I happened on something pretty special via Stewpid Thoughts. There are no words.

Enjoy.

It's Friday, I'm in Love (except it's Thursday, but I'll be busy tomorrow)

with The Voice: Steve Perry.

If you know me at all (and no one really does because, let's face it, who would want to? I am dark and twisty, but not in a sexy Meredith Grey kind of way, in a Shannen Doherty mixed with Kathy Griffin kind of way - I don't even know what that means.) chances are you're aware that I have an unusual affinity for all things Steve Perry and/or Journey related. The Voice is ranked number one on my list of top male singers ever (he is followed by Michael Bolton, Bob Dylan and Richard Marx - j/k, my real list is The Steve Perry, Freddy Mercury and Michael Bolton) and I will argue the angelic supremacy of his otherworldly vocal chords forever, or at least until my Pop-Tart is done. While The Steve Perry has always been (a) God in my book, it was the inclusion of the poptastic hit "Don't Stop Believin" in the exquisite finale of The Sopranos that brought Journey to the forefront of American culture. Again. [Where a band this great belongs. By this I mean before Steve Perry left.] Which is great for me, because now I have a legitimate reason to engage strangers in conversation about the greatness of that song, the band and SP. I want "Don't Stop Believin'" played as my first (choreographed) dance at my wedding. I want it blaring when we sign the divorce papers. I want it blasted at my funeral. Honestly, one of my happiest memories is jumping up and down at Siobhlogger's wedding to the live band that played the SHIT out of our request. It's also the only memory I have of her wedding, but that's neither here nor there. This song makes me want to be from New Jersey. Or maybe even Detroit. This song makes me want to hop into a Camero with T-tops and get a perm. I want to spontaneously translate this song into Spanish. I wish my name were Sherrie. Maybe just my middle name.


via Matt Sears Forever via Super Deluxe



And of course...

It's Friday, I'm in Love

with the idea of getting a tattoo. Now, I'm not sure if I'll ever really go through with it (much like anything in my life, except for for Side Sweeping Bangs 07 and we all know how that turned out), but I do love thinking about it.

1) Is there any establishment in Oklahoma trustworthy enough of my delicate dermis?

2) What to get? Do I go with the ever popular Chinese character? In my case, of course, I would legitimately know what it means (no comments please from Alex or Jared) so I'd have one up on all the other d-bags walking around with them. Ok, I'd have .5 up.

Love?

Or maybe, I should just go for the gold and get a Ying/Yang.

3) Where? I'm leaning toward a nice display like Eve's tiny paw prints on her lovely lady lumps.

But seriously, I'm considering it. I need input.