Author Archives: Cindy

burn baby burn

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Thank you all for the very kind comments and emails on that last post. Y’all are too sweet, really. I’m feeling a little better this week, so I guess the exercise (and slightly improved eating habits) must be helping.

This past weekend was pretty fun. Saturday night, we had a girls’ night and went dancing. The group was me, Kris, Janet, Linda, and a girl that works in Dave’s office that I don’t know very well. We had a good time – I was designated driver since heaven only knows what’s going on with my ovaries and I’d prefer to be cautious in the meantime. Kris and Linda seem to have really bonded, which is awesome since they’re both single, and since Janet and I (the old married ladies) aren’t always up for nights on the town like they are.

Actually, come to think of it, I thought they bonded, but it could’ve just been that they were both very, very drunk. There were tequila shots involved. It was sort of scary.

But we all had a good time, and hey, dancing is exercise, so bonus! I finally got in bed somewhere around 5 a.m. You know you’re getting old when that kind of thing totally kicks your butt the next day, even though you didn’t have a drop of alcohol the night before.

Sunday, Dave and I got in touch with our inner 14 year-old boys by burning a whole bunch of yard waste that had been lying around for ages. (It was very Beavis: “Fire! Fire! Heh heh heh!”) There was the wood that used to be our old deck; the one that was torn down when Dave’s brother Steve built our new, pretty one. There were also some dead shrubs that we dug up and never replanted, and um, our Christmas tree, which has been in the driveway since sometime in early January. Because apparently besides just being lazy, we also try to make our yard look as white trash as humanly possible. (And we do it well. Trust me.)

So we had a nice little bonfire on Sunday evening. And of course, the whole project was my idea and I told Dave not to worry about it, that I’d take care of all of it, and that I just needed him for two seconds to help me lift something that was stuck in the mud, and then he ended up doing 80% of the work. Because he’s awesome that way. It was actually quite romantic to sit on a little blanket next to an open fire while the sun was setting. The weather was perfect for it, and it was all quite lovely. Until it got chilly and the mosquitoes came out. At which point I hightailed it inside and left Dave to baby-sit the fire alone.

In other news, Kris is moving out this Saturday. She found a nice little apartment that’s pretty close to her office, and she got a really good rent special on it. The only problem is that her house in Memphis won’t close until the middle of next month (still praying that works out), so she doesn’t have the money to move her furniture up yet. In the meantime, I’m lending her the bed in our guest room and some other odds and ends from around the house. One of her co-workers is giving her an old sofa, so she should be relatively well set up.

And I must say, even though I know it means I’ll get out of the house 10 or 15 minutes earlier in the morning, I am really going to miss Lucky when she moves out. I have totally fallen in love with that dog. Although I know Dave and our cats will breathe a collective sigh of relief and wish her a hearty “good riddance.” Oh well.

moping

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I haven’t had a whole lot to write about lately, because I’m in a bit of a funk and I don’t know what to do with it. It seems to be a combination of my frustration with not getting pregnant and the fact that I’ve gained a few pounds over the last few months. Not a significant amount, I just hit a number on the scale that makes me uncomfortable. I came home on Monday and (literally) cried on Dave’s shoulder about the fact that I hate my body that “just wants to get fat and not make babies.” I feel defective. I hate that.

The pregnancy bit is frustrating because I’ve started charting my ovulation, and all it’s proven so far is that there is really no discernable pattern, and maybe I’m not even ovulating at all. I’m still taking my temperature every morning like a good little patient, but every time I go write it on the chart and realize – again – that nothing there looks the way it should, it makes me want to cry. And there’s nothing I can do about it, except keep charting for a few more months so I have something in writing to give to my doctor to prove that maybe there really is something wrong with me. It’s pretty disheartening. The suck factor there, in case you were wondering, is pretty much through the roof.

As for the weight thing – yeah, I know, it’s easily correctable, and I’ve been slacking. So the suck factor isn’t as high on that one, but it’s still bad. I haven’t been working out like I should, and I’ve probably eaten my body weight in Cadbury creme eggs during this past Easter season, so I’m aware that it’s my own damn fault. I’ve started a new regimen this week; Dave and I have been exercising, and I’m not allowing myself to buy copious amounts of junk food when I go grocery shopping. (I’m really bad in the supermarket. I tend to hoarde food.) I usually crave sugar at night, so I’ve started having strawberries and Cool Whip as my nighttime snack, rather than cookies or cereal or whatever. Also, I often grab a candy bar out of the vending machine at work after lunch, so today I brought a fruit bowl, and I’m going to try to start doing that every day.

Like most women, I have always had (and probably always will have) issues about my body image, as Dave can attest. The poor guy often has to hear me whine about clothes that I don’t want to wear because it’s “too grabby around my stomach” or whatever imaginary flaw I find with it. He’s always telling me that it’s in my head, and I know he’s right – really, I do – but I can’t seem to make my brain accept that. I guess the sudden revelation about it now is a combination of the scale (the dreaded, dreaded scale) and the fact that I recently bought our plane tickets to my cousin’s wedding in New Orleans this June. [Aside: hey Alphagal, are you & SNG going to be there? I think everyone else will be.]

For those of you who have never been there, New Orleans in the summer is just slightly hotter than the Fifth Concentric Circle of Hell, so breathable fabrics (cotton, linen) are pretty much mandatory. The problem is that I live in the Northwest, so every skirt or dress that I own is some kind of polyester/spandex-y/whatever-blend, and basically: I would die. Also, the wedding is at 6:00 in the evening, which implies that it needs to be at least somewhat dressy – and again, I live in the Northwest, where Birkenstocks are considered perfectly appropriate business attire, so all of my skirts (all 3 or 4 of them) are pretty casual.

So, I’m going to have to go shopping to buy something to wear to the wedding. And honestly? The thought of shopping for clothes when I’m in this “I hate my body” state of mind is enough to send me spiraling into a full-on panic attack. The wedding isn’t until June 10th, so I have time to drop 5 to 10 pounds between now and then. I’m honestly terrified to set goals like that for myself, though, because I have a wicked fear of failure. So I’m trying (trying!) to not think about the scale and to focus just on feeling more comfortable in my clothes. Hopefully then I can go shopping and buy a dress without bursting into tears in the dressing room at Macy’s.

And now you know why my posts lately have been sporadic and not very interesting. Maybe now that I’ve written about it and gotten it off my chest, I can snap out of this funk and get back to my usual goofy self. One can only hope, anyway.

does anyone else find these as funny as I do?

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Since I have absolutely nothing interesting or funny to write about, it’s time for another installment of “what strange keyword searches are bringing people to my website?” I’m omitting all of the porn-related searches, because there are just too many of them to mention, and most of them are seriously, disturbingly gross.

Windshield wiper fluid gets in the nose?
Dude. Ouch.

Michael’s Bar & Grill, Rawlins, Wyoming
Hey, we were there! Best mozzarella sticks I have ever had in my life. And the guy who owned the place bought Kris a beer, so we liked him. Sucky town, good bar.

I hate Missouri
Boy, do I. No offense to anyone who lives there, but good LORD, it takes forever to drive across that state.

(My dad’s full name)
This struck me as odd because I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned my dad’s name here, so I don’t know how I got 3 hits from that. Huh.

short and bald do I even stand a chance in dating
Aww. Of course you do, little fella. There’s someone out there for everyone. You just don’t have a chance with me. (Not because I have an issue with short, bald men – I honestly don’t – but because I’m taken, bitches.)

Penis was 5 feet long.
I know I said I wouldn’t mention any porn searches, but HA! HAAAA!! Oh, how that made me laugh. (I’m pretty sure they got linked to this post, which still horrifies me.)

now what
This is my favorite search phrase yet. No kidding.

friday afternoon rule-breaking

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I know I have a self-imposed restriction on blogging about my job, but there are a few things that I think I can say without getting dooced.

1) I was in a meeting today with a lot of people that I don’t really know. This is not at all uncommon at my job. Since I am but a lowly temp, most people don’t bother introducing themselves to me unless they need something from me. And as loud and boisterous as I might be in my personal life, I’m sort of quiet at work and try as I might, I am just not the girl who’s going to be all, “Hi, I’m Cindy, who are you?”

Anyway, back to the meeting. Blah blah standard monthly reviewcakes. (I’ve obviously been reading way too many TwoP recaps lately.) Afterward, this girl who was in the meeting came up to me, introduced herself, and asked what I do. Just like that, “So what’s your role here?” Um, ok. Does that seem strange to anyone else? I can’t really imagine striking up a conversation with someone at work by asking them what they do. So I told her, and of course she has no idea what any of my stuff means, the same way I have no idea what any of her stuff means. She doesn’t even know who my boss is. There was really no point to the conversation at all. It was so strange.

2) About an hour ago, I was sent out to go retrieve the ID card of my boss’s boss, who it seems had left it in a conference room two buildings away. Our ID cards are what let us in the building, so it’s sort of important to have. It was odd that I was asked to go get it, because it’s essentially a personal errand, and I’ve never been asked to do something like that before. The whole thing was sort of anti-climactic – I walked over there and stopped by the receptionist’s desk first, because I thought maybe someone would have already found it and turned it in. And of course, someone had, so there were no real investigative skills required on my part. But I got to come back and be all like, “hey, I heard you were looking for this,” and be the big hero for the afternoon, so that’s cool. (Especially since I am terrified of my boss’s boss, because I am convinced that he doesn’t like me, but that’s a whole different story.)

3) This is the only part of the work-related post that might be dooce-able. There is someone I work with who absolutely drives me insane. I’m not saying who it is, or what this person does in relation to me. But this is one of those situations where because I am a temp and this other person is a full-time employee, the person assumes that he/she is my boss, when in fact he/she is not. And there is something about his/her personality and the way that he/she approaches me that totally rubs me the wrong way. I had to work with this person for a few hours yesterday afternoon, and I went home last night with a pounding headache behind my right eye. (It was still twitching when I went to bed.) It has gotten to the point where I can hear this person talking to someone else in the hall, and just the sound of his/her voice makes me want to hide under my desk. That’s not good.

(Think they can fire me for writing that? I wonder…)

Not much else going on here. I just keep re-reading this and giggling. Will someone get me a subscription to All You magazine? Pretty please?

good vibes needed (again)

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Dave informed me yesterday that there has just been entirely too much discussion on my blog lately about our pets’, um, “by-products”. Which is funny, because a couple of weeks ago, he accused me of writing too much on here about babies, and told me that I sounded obsessive. (I’m so not obsessed with getting pregnant, but I can see how it might come off that way if all you know about me is what you read on my blog.) But I’ll bet none of y’all knew that I had my own in-house content editor, did you? Admit it, you’re jealous.

So in light of all that, I’m changing the subject to something entirely unrelated, but also happy:

Kris got an offer on her house today. I don’t know the details about it yet, I just got a short email that it “could be good.” If it goes through, she’ll close on May 12th. Which means she’ll have the money to:
1) Get her own place and move out of ours (not that I haven’t loved having her around, because I have, but I know it’s been hard on Dave since our house has basically been in Estrogen Overload since sometime in mid-February);
2) Move her two kitties up here (who are currently living at her mom’s house);
3) Move her furniture up; and
4) Be relieved of a three-bedroom, one-bathroom source of stress that’s been weighing on her for the past six years.

The only glitch at this point is that her house still has to pass termite inspection. So Internet, please-please-please keep your best “non-termite-infested, good real estate” vibes going for her. All of my fingers and toes are crossed already, but I need all the back-up I can get.

more animal grossness

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I just had to go and jinx myself with that last post, because it seems like the last few days have been all about our animals’ rear ends.

First, Lucky got a bladder infection. Not sure how, but she had an accident in the house (which, according to Kris, she hasn’t done since she was a puppy) and then she was whining to go outside to pee about every hour. Kris got her to a vet over the weekend, so she’s on antibiotics now and should be feeling better soon. And we found a super easy way to give a dog a pill: wrap it in a piece of cheese. Gulp. Pill = gone.

Then, Beaumont got a tapeworm. He’s our primary mouser, so it’s not unusual for him to get them. He was due for his shots anyway, so I took him to the vet yesterday afternoon. Our vet acts like I’m crazy whenever I tell them on the phone that I know the cat has a tapeworm. They always give me the speech about, “Well, if you think he might have a tapeworm, you could bring in a fecal sample from his litter box and we can have it checked…” And they say it in this condescending tone, like I’m just one of those crazy hypochondriac cat ladies. Seriously, if you’ve seen it once, you tend to remember what it looks like. (Don’t click that link if you have a weak stomach.) The first tapeworm experience I ever had was with Teenie, when she was a kitten. The resulting trauma caused me to throw away all of my sheets. Believe me, I know how to diagnose a tapeworm. So we went to the vet, and when the technician lifted his tail to take his temperature, she said, “eww, gross.” Um, yeah. See? I told you he had a tapeworm, bee-otch. Anyway, Mr. B got his shots, they gave me his meds (and a few extra doses for the next time this happens, because with four cats in the house, it inevitably will), and we were on our way.

And of course, there’s my own personal gross-out experience of the day. Kris typically leaves for work well over an hour before I do. She takes Lucky out to use the bathroom before she leaves, and then I take her out again before I leave. This morning, I took her out in the yard, didn’t watch where I stepped, and apparently walked into some dog poo. I didn’t notice it, and I proceeded to track it all over the house, before I was like, “hmm, what’s that on the stairs? It looks like my shoe-print, but…” God. Not only was it all over my sneakers, but it somehow got on the hem of my jeans, too. So I was already late for work when I had to completely change my outfit. (Because my other clean pants didn’t look right with the top I had on, so… Yeah.) And I had to find new shoes. In my irrationally pissed state of mind, I started to get mad at Kris for not picking up the dog poo in the yard, but honestly, I should really just look where the hell I’m stepping.

Still, that can’t possibly be a good omen for the rest of my day.

strange pet bathroom behavior

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Teenie has always had hang-ups about her litter box, from the time she was a kitten. Not so much with poop, but she’d occasionally pee on the floor next to her litter box rather than in it. It confused me for a long time until I figured out that if the litter box wasn’t deemed clean enough by Her Royal Highness, she’d find somewhere else to go. For many years, I scooped her litter box every day to make sure she wouldn’t have an accident. And she didn’t. And life was good.

Sometime last year, Dave and I got one of those automatic-scooping litter boxes for our bedroom. Yes, I realize that our bedroom isn’t exactly the ideal place for a litter box. But Teenie went through several months where she refused to leave our bedroom because she was scared of the other cats, and it seemed like a better solution than forcing her to go use the litter box downstairs in the laundry room, or letting her have an accident in our room (which is most likely the option she would have chosen). And now that Kris’s dog Lucky is living with us, both Teenie and Beaumont generally refuse to leave our bedroom. So having the litter box there has definitely been helpful, and it’s in a far corner where it isn’t totally obvious. They have food and water dishes in our room too, so they really don’t ever have to leave if they don’t want to.

(For the record, Cleo and Greta seem to prefer hiding from the dog in Dave’s office, for whatever reason. I guess they like the futon.)

For the past couple of weeks, though, Teenie seems to spend more and more time in our bathroom. That makes sense because the weather has been sunnier, and there’s a skylight in our bathroom, so she can loll about on the floor and bask in the sun, as cats are wont to do. No big deal, right?

Here’s what confuses me: Teenie has decided to start peeing in our bathtub. We have a separate shower stall and tub in our bathroom, so we don’t use the tub that often. I noticed a puddle there a couple of nights ago, and I knew it was cat pee because oh my god, that smell, there’s nothing else on earth it could possibly be. But I thought it could’ve been either her or Beaumont (since he tends to have litter box issues whenever there’s a change to his environment – i.e., when we paint a room – and I think having the dog in the house definitely qualifies as a source of stress for him), so I didn’t jump to conclusions about who it was.

Then this morning, Teenie was hanging out with me in the bathroom while I was putting on my make-up and curling my hair, like she does every morning. All of a sudden, she jumped into the tub, sniffed around for a minute, and peed. She stared at me the whole time, like “yeah, so?” I stared back because I was sort of stunned and didn’t know how to react. I realized after she finished that I was holding my curling iron in mid-air the whole time.

The thing is, since we don’t use the tub that often, it really isn’t that big a deal. It’s easy enough to rinse out the tub when she does it, and I always scrub it down before I use it because it’s so rare that it tends to get dusty between uses. It’s a hell of a lot easier to clean the tub than it is to clean cat pee out of the carpet, and it’s actually easier than cleaning the litter box. So I kind of want to be like, hey, good idea there, Teenie! Try it on the toilet next time and all I’ll have to do is flush! But I’m confused as to why on earth she’d suddenly start doing this now, when she’s almost 10 years old and has never done anything like it before. I’m not sure if any pet behaviorists read this site, but are there any ideas out there? I’m totally baffled.