I Think She May Be Planning To Eat Me...

So, I'm staying up at my dad's awesome house up in the mountains. Attached to his house is an apartment that he rents out occasionally. Right now, there is a very sweet couple staying in the apartment while the husband does some work up here. The wife appears to be staying in the apartment during the day.

We got up here yesterday, and I've been telecommuting, so I'm here all day, but not really "here" -like I'm ever really "here". Oh well, lets pretend.

I ran into the wife (who we'll call Sweet Lady from now on, since I already forgot her name because I am an asshole) shortly after I arrived, and we did some hilarious language-barrier-introduction-type thing with each other -you know the kind, where both people smile and nod like they know what the hell the other one is talking about, when really, we're each picking up about a fifth of what the other is saying. Luckily, her English is better than my Spanglish, so there were a few words that got through between the over-pronounced smiles and hand gestures.

Within 15 minutes of our introduction, she was knocking on the door with a frothy beverage in a cocktail glass. It was 11 am. Now, I am not one to be rude and refuse a gesture of friendship, so I accepted the beverage and went back to work. Unfortunately, the "cocktail" was just a smoothie, but it was wonderful, so I'll let it slide. Thanks, SL, for keeping me from drinking before noon!

A few short hours later, she was again knocking, asking if I'd like lunch. The only words I really understood were "cheese, stuff, comida, food, pretty, lunch, yum, and you like?" but she got the message across. Unfortunately, I had just eaten, so I turned down her request while pointing at the telephone because I had a conference call that I had to be on.

Ever the trooper that she is, she was back again before I was out of bed today. By the time I got to the door, she was gone.

I figured by then she'd have given up, but just now, she was back. This time, she brought a plate, shoved it in my face and said "Comida. Lunch. Hope you like!" with a big smile. I'd just eaten, but took the plate anyway, and thanked her. She then looked at my dogs and said "LOVE THE PUPPIES! You eat. Good. Bueno." We again did some huge hand gestures and smiles, and went to our respective corners.

I feel bad, because I've got to work while I'm here, and I'm really not sure if she wants to hang out because she is bored, or if she is trying to fatten me up so she can feed me to her husband for dinner....

Good thing my pain meds don't make me paranoid or anything...

Thoughts?

What's Your Therapy?

After an extremely trying week last week, I spent my Saturday doing things that were all about me. I slept in, I painted my toenails, I played with the dogs, I spent a few hours on the phone with some amazingly supportive friends, and I watched bad TV -all while consuming about half a pot of coffee. While I was flipping through the channels feeling sorry for myself for not being able to save the world, I came across Elizabethtown. It seemed like a cute movie, so I sat down for a watch.
That movie was apparently the start to my therapy for the weekend. I won't ruin the movie for anyone who hasn't seen it, but there is a very sweet part at the end that made me cry a little. That little 5 minute part that made me cry a little was all it took to open the floodgates on a week's worth of big time stress. Thank you for that, Elizabethtown.
I cried for a good hour, and got it all out. After that cry, I picked myself up off the floor, gave myself a little talking to about how I am completely incapable of saving the world all by myself, and got on with my day. Removing that weight from my shoulders (that I had placed there all on my own) was exactly what I needed to get on with what turned out to be a good weekend. Turns out that cry was just what I needed. Well, that and a new pair of shoes.
What does it for you when you're down? Do you cry? Punch a wall? Bottle it all up?
What is your therapy?

Give Up The Summer Goods!

So, I'm coming to terms with the fact that I'm not nearly as cool as I used to be. Maybe given the opportunity, I could exude some coolness again, but nothing will ever top the cool factor of the time I broke into the YMCA in the middle of the night... with my crush... to go skinny dipping in the pool off MLK Blvd. Daring, sexy, dangerous.

We had to hide from the cops, we had to run barefoot through mud and grass, and I had to fake like I could swim. (Lost some cool points on that one, started gulping for air before I came up and damn near needed mouth-to-mouth... but hey, it's an opportunity in its own, no?)

What a perfect setting for a first kiss. It was definitely the most memorable I've had to date. Too bad he used that opportunity to mention that he was engaged... needless to say, we didn't go skinny dipping again. But what great fun while it lasted!

Fun in the sun-- be it with your love, your best group of friends, or even your furry companions is what the summer spirit is all about! Screw the holidays-- pass me a margarita!

Definitely my best summer memory to date with the chicks
was our BACHELORETTE PARTY CRUISE to the fabulous
BAHAMAS!!! There isn't much detail I can go into without
incriminating those who were there, but let's just say... if you
ever get the opportunity to go somewhere exotic, DO IT. Just beware... the cute little local boys are selling knock-offs too, no matter how hot their accents are. Who cares, fall for it anyway. Of course, I am a sucker for accents and winking locals. I was convinced I had bought 2 real "Cuban" cigars from a guy on the beach who "had to go, this is your last chance!"-- (and turned up again on the same beach an hour later... should have tipped me off...) and was going to smuggle them back in my suitcase. I don't think I slept a full hour the night before we left, stressing so hard about getting caught, thrown in jail, paying thousands of fines, all for these taboo (and therefore necessary!) cigars. To be honest, I don't even know if they were CIGARS, much less Cubans, but I had myself convinced by the time we went to customs they had handcuffs ready for me. I can't even describe the feeling of relief that overcame me when I saw my suitcase waiting for me, still in one piece, and not a single angry customs agent to boot. I'll be honest, I felt pretty damn cool. That is... until my brother pointed out that the labels were misspelled...

Alright, so I've just publicly posted 2 of my most embarrassing-- but fabulous!!-- summer stories. We know you have more, and we can't wait to hear!! Post up your best summer stories, and check back often to laugh and reminisce!

Spoiled Much?

So, I was at the store today buying our new puppy a pool...
Yes, I admit it, I bought MY DOG a swimming pool. I do not have a swimming pool, but Cooper, a 4 month old Golden Retriever does. I do not think this is what the store had in mind when they decided to advertise and sell "kiddie pools," but whatever.
...Anyways, it got me to thinking about all of the things we do for our pets -toys, treats, an endless array of training tools, I could go on and on. My dogs have attended more ski trips than most Americans. What can I say, I love them, and if I can bring them along, I do.
My mom says she is scared for me to have children because of the way my dogs live -am I alone in this, or is this normal? Do you spoil your pets?