Oh Lordy

You know Ive been busy when I don't even have time to procrastinate and write a post! The past two weeks have been hellish, both from a work and a school perspective. I think the worst is behind me or at least soon will be.

Well, I finally have time to procrastinate, at least a little, so I'm going to give you a quick recap, in bullet formation. But you all know I can't keep anything short (there's a penis joke in there *somewhere*).

Gray Hair- I know I've waxed poetic about the finding of gray hair before. No? Shit, I'm too lazy to go actually look to see if I have, but I have had the occasional gray hair or two. Nothing to worry about, they aren't prolific, and to be honest, I'm dying the shit out of my hair once I start to gray. Because I do not age gracefully. I will be the 80 year old woman with jet black hair and wearing hot pants. And swearing that she's only 35. Just watch.

Alright, so gray hair, I'm not too freaked out, right? Well, today after my laser appointment (ya know, the laser appointment that's a cross between a beauty treatment and a gynecological exam? Is it wrong that my laser technician (and also happens to be my neighbor) has seen things that the opposite sex hasn't seen in oh, I'd say, 5000 years?) ANYway, after we're done today she tells me. 'Megan, did you know you have like 3 white hairs 'down there'?' Ummmm, exsqueeze me? 'Yeah, and they were pretty long too' WHAT? I was too mortified to ask her exactly where so I could terminate them if they ever come up again. Cause here's a fun fact, laser doesn't work on blond/gray hair. So I can only conclude that after my laser treatments are over I'm going to have three beautiful gray locks growing from my nether regions. I'm getting ready to puke a little in my mouth.

Nut Snack- To keep in the general category of 'nether regions', I'm going to discuss Nut Snacks. What did you say?? Nut SNacks. Has anyone else seen this commercial? Shit, at this point I'm not even sure what the brand/product is, but I do know their marketing department is either 1) full of frat guys or 2) full of nuns who don't know any better. (edited to say: I just found it, True North Nut Snacks)

I was innocently sitting on the couch doing my homework (instead of non-innocently?) and a commercial came on. I loathe commercials but didn't change the channel because I wasn't really even paying attention. Then I hear something to the effect of "A new, tasty nut snack" and my head snaps up. A new tasty WHAT? Then I see nuts (of the legume variety) dancing around the screen and I pick my jaw up off the floor. Marketing brilliance. Disgusting Marketing brilliance.

I'm not the only one who thought this, right? I brought it up at work with the disclaimer 'this is not a work appropriate topic' (because that clears you of any HR infractions when you say that) and everyone thought it was funny. So I'm assuming I'm not the only dirty-minded one out there.

See for yourself:




Anyone? Anyone??


Pooping: Going along the lines of teenage humor, poop is always funny. Poop stories are even better. Even have to really really go? I mean like desperately go? But you're in the car and you're white knuckling it and sweating trying to get home, praying that you don't crap your pants, but telling yourself if you do, it's okay, because you're fortunate enough to be on your way home? No? Just me? I'm the only one with bowels that have unfortunate timing? Fine.

Anyway, this happened to me on the way home from work on Thursday (TMI, right?). I am frantically trying to get home and rush down my street and pull, Dukes of Hazard style, into my driveway and garage. I can't even be bothered to get my belongings out of my car. My across the street neighbor is sitting in a chair in his driveway....the following conversation ensues:

"What's up speed racer?"

"Ha ha"

"You gotta poop?"

"Actually....YES!"

And with that I close the garage door and bolt inside.

I get a text a few minutes later. "Sweet!"

Did I mention that this is the husband of my laser hair removal technician? This family knows WAY too much about me.


Victoria's Secret, the pot smoker: Speaking of...well hell, I'm not sure there's a good transition for this one. So you know how I spoke of the hideousness that was the VS bathing suit I tried on at the beginning of the summer? Well, last week after a few glasses of wine and left to my own devises with the Internet I ordered a BIKINI! online from VS. Somehow in my wine induced haze I forgot what a jet puffed marshmallow I looked like before. Well, the BIKINI! came in yesterday and I tried it on....AND I LOVE IT! Really! In fact I loved it so much I was thisclose to posting a pic. Then I put down the crack pipe. But really, I like it a lot. The only thing is, the top? Smells like pot...ooooor at least what I've heard pot smells like. It's strong. Like really. At first I brushed it off thinking I was crazy...but the more I wore it (yes, I wore it around the house and posed in the mirror multiple times....gotta problem with that?) it just wouldn't go away. Now I'm afraid I'll take it on a trip and the drug sniffing dogs will pick it out of my suitcase and I'll be arrested for having a bikini top made of pot AND the dogs will probably eat the only cute bikini I've ever found. Sigh...why does weird shit always happen to me?

Just for my court documentation later, this is the bikini in question:
http://www2.victoriassecret.com/commerce/application/prodDisplay/?namespace=productDisplay&origin=onlineProductDisplay.jsp&event=display&prnbr=9B-217908&page=1&cgname=OSSWMBIKZZZ&rfnbr=1232

in the brown scroll pattern...with different bottoms than the ones pictured. See, that pic is waaaay better than what I look like in it...enjoy.


Alright, that's all the procrastination I can do for now. My day seems to have slipped away from me. Dinner tonight with my sister and her friend at this place:http://www.tastefullyours.com/. Should be fun.

Hope you guys have a great weekend!!

questions answered!

Thank you for humoring me, people...what is it about questions that I love? Am I narcissistic as well as neurotic? Add another 'n' trait in there and I've staked a claim on the N's. Nasty? Narcoleptic? (I have sworn I was at one point in my life) I'll have to this about that one.

On to the answers:

Are you still doing eHarm?
No...no and no. Only because I want to retain the last fragments of self esteem I have managed to piece together after my latest venture with Dr. Neil 'Boy you make it sound easy you jackass' Warren.

What color are your eyes?
Brown...dark, dark brown. I always wanted them to be another color. I bought green contacts with my hard-earner realtor assistant money when I was in high school. They felt so think they could have been made out of condoms. No lie, they were that thick. (not that I've ever seen a condom mom...I've just heard about them on the tv) They bunched up in my head every time I blinked. And guess what, no refunds. So here I am stuck with the dark dark brown eyes. I tell myself they're sultry these days, but who am I kidding...I'd trade them for blue in a heartbeat.

Why don't people say "bless you" when I sneeze?
Because they don't want you to go to heaven. I'll let my stalker know...she'll bless you...and pray for you....for at least the next 13 years.

why don't grown-ups push their chairs back in after getting up from a table?
Because they realize it's futile...I mean, someone's going to come along and pull the chair back out in a few minutes. They're just making less work for the next person. It's like making your bed...WHY do it? You're just going to mess it up the next night.

What are you current favorite reality tv shows?
Ahhh Annie, you know me too well. I have graduated from the MTV/VH1 shows (okay, not from Rock of Love, but that's different) and I'm a total Bravo whore...Top Chef, Project Runway, Real Housewives of any city, Flipping Out, My Life on the D-List...really I don't need cable tv...I just need two channels. Bravo and Food Network. That's it. Unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) I don't watch much tv these days...

If you were an animal (a non-human animal if you want to get all technical), what animal would you be?
Wow, this is good...I think a cat of some sort...I like the thought of laying around all day in the sun and sauntering around.... imaginative, I know. My second choice was a kangaroo...mainly because I think it would be cool to have a pouch and be able to kick the shit out of things.


What was your worst fashion faux pas ever?
This comes pretty close..

but hello,I was a pre-teen in the 80's, there are so many things to choose from. I had an acid wash long 'flowy' denim skirt...that's gotta be up there on the list as well.

What word or phrase do you overuse?
'I'm going to punch you/him/her/all of you in the face.' It just has such pizazz and gets my point across so succinctly.

What is your first memory?
Ah, memories. I was in mother's day out. I must have been maybe 3? I had a 'blankie' back then (cough cough...but not now, of course) which was basically a cloth diaper (unused, thanks). I carried it everywhere. So it went with me to mother's day out. And we had naptime. I remember sleeping on a mat with my little blankie and waking up and not being able to find it. The next memory I have from that day is one of the adults giving my mom a brown paper bag at the end of the day. It appears some twit next to me at nap time got a bloody nose and someone decided my blankie would be wonderfully absorbent. So they gave it BACK TO US. Ew. Mom promptly threw it away, I'm sure. So I don't remember every piece of the story, but I remember a few blips. And I keep my shit away from people at naptime now...keep your bloody noses to yourself thankyouverymuch.

Ahhhh, that's it...thanks for the questions! If I can keep my eyes peeled open after class tomorrow night I'll tell you about my professor from tonight that continues to get all up in my personal space. fun times!

I'm apparently living a little too far North..

..and/or East for that matter. Can you tell I'm taking a break from schoolwork? More to come later. I was just looking for places to move in case my stalker gets out of control...

American Cities That Best Fit You:

65% Austin 65% Denver 65% San Diego 50% Miami 50% Portland

Which American Cities Best Fit You?

Stalker in the produce aisle...

I'm not even kidding. I just had the weirdest shit happen to me. So after some group school work tonight I went to Target to buy a bunch of crap that I don't need and go grocery shopping. (side note, does anyone else's cart get jacked when they try on clothes in Target?....it happens to me all the time...and there's stuff in the basket!). It's late and it's a Saturday (my social life sucks when school is in full swing). It's about 9:00 and I'm finishing up shopping in the produce aisle when all of a sudden this conversation starts:


stalker-girl: "I think I know you!"


Me: Ummm, I'm sorry, where do you know me from? (I'm HORRIBLE with people from the past).


SG: Did you go to X X High school?


Me: Yes, yes I did. (I'm smiling and nodding, hoping I recognize her)


SG: Oh! well, I'm Stalker Girl, you're Megan, right?


Me: Oh yeah! Hi S! (I'm only vaguely remembering her)


this is where it starts to get strange

SG: Oh, I totally remember lots of stories from back then! Like the time we had that sports medicine class together (I DID take that class) and you had just gotten your fake nails done and they were so gorgeous and you had to cut them off because you had to write a paper and you were so mad.


Me: Uh, I don't think I remember that...why would I have cut my nails? Were they too long to type? (I did occasionally get my nails done...so maybe this happened, I don't have a clue)


SG: And THEN there was the time we were supposed to go out one night and you never picked me up and I called your house and your mom said you were in bed with a migraine and I threw a complete hissy fit and....


Me: (I stopped her before she could go on, I was getting uncomfortable) I really don't remember that, I'm so sorry! (I have since called my mom, she has no recollection of this...plus, I don't get migraines)


SG: Well, I just always remember you because you were so kind to me back then. (huh? You were just telling me how I ditched you!)


Me: (I know this is nice, but I'm still feeling uncomfortable) Well, thank you, I'm glad you have good memories of me! ha ha!


So we continue to talk a bit about what we've been doing for the past 13 years (13 years!!!). Then...


SG: So, do you go to church?


::cue ominous music:: Ahhhh, it's going to be one of THOSE conversations.


Me: Nope, much to my mother's chagrin, I don't. (dang it, when will I just learn to say 'yes, I go'?!)


SG: Well, let me tell you all about my church (she goes on to tell me all about it, then proceeds to write down her info and the church info)


SG: Well, I think I'm about to cry!


Me: ........why? (I say nervously)


SG: Well, I've been praying for you and now I run into you!!


Me: (looking a bit dumbfounded) Well, I guess it's fate...thanks for the info, gotta run!


SG: Oh, I just have to give you a hug first!


Me: ok


I take off for the register at this point. Ummm, WTF was that all about? Either she was lying about praying about me or this girl is straight up weird and could be my stalker. I mean...it's been THIRTEEN YEARS since I last saw this girl and from what I can remember I hardly had any interaction with her at all. If she's thinking about me, that's bizarre. (even though I secretly hope that all the guys I had crushes on have thinking about me for these 13 years...but that's different).


I called my friend Ann who I've known since Jr. High to tell her the news. She doesn't remember who this girl is but proceeds to tell me that I better get a new car and move. WHAT? Should I be THAT freaked out? I mean, yes, this girl was very excited to see me and yes, she's apparently been thinking about me for the past 13 years, but I don't feel like I'm in danger!


Now I see the sympathy vote coming for Stalker-girl...but let me tell you, it's not like I was some popular chick at school...not at all. And it wasn't like me to ditch or be unkind to anyone....not with this amount Catholic guilt I have coursing through my veins. So it's not like this was some girl that was clamoring to be my friend and I dumped on her. So you can see where this is odd for me.....right? Everyone I've told so far has thought it was freaky....my mom suggested I set my house alarm tonight. WHAT? You people have obviously been infected with my neuroses...times 10! Here I was just thinking it was weird and now everyone has me convinced that this chick is going to show up at my door and kill me!


Ug....I was planning on answering your questions tonight, but it looks like it will have to wait until tomorrow. If I make it to tomorrow...ack!

I am sweaty...and other similarly fascinating tales

Alright, so life gets kinda hectic for most people. Be you single or married, parents or not, working or living in your parents basement....whatever. And given your hectic schedule you have to find a way to fit in the essentials.


For me, this essential is working out. Why must I fit it in? Well, my little burgeoning baby bump that is made entirely of pita chips and cheese is the answer, my friend. If I was a celeb I can almost assure you the paps would be on high-alert. 'is she pregnant?'. Hell, I myself would wonder the same thing if there wasn't a key ingredient missing (I'll let you guess which one).


Alright, it's not THAT bad...but I've been noticing a little more 'gush' lately and with my current schedule, working out after work has become difficult. And working out before work? Well, is just impossible because I'm lazy.


So, I had a revelation! I will join the gym at work! It's cheap ($12 a month), they have showers and they have treadmills, elliptical and bikes. Everything I could ever hope for. Not to mention that this! month! they are getting new treadmills with LCD TVs ON EACH AND EVERY ONE. Well slap me silly and call me Bertha, that is excellent news.


I joined last week and finally was able to go this week. Yesterday and today. I was a bit hesitant when I got there. I mean, it's all my co-workers, a lot of whom I know. This is not like my neighborhood gym (that I still belong to...ya know, for the weekend), which albeit huge and super-nice, is filled with tons of suburbanites. Suburbanites with squishy middles and who wear Big Dog t-shirts. I'm never worried about looking cute at that gym. But this gym? Ahem, there are more then a few tall drinks of water and even though I know most of them and wouldn't go out with them (because obviously they're just clamoring to go out with me) it's still a bit intimidating working out around them.


Why, you may ask? Well, when God was handing out characteristics and traits to people I imagine he was going down the assembly line (since that's how it's done, obviously) and was picking out different things for different people. "She's going to have silky brown hair, and I think this one will have big boobs, and this one over here, great legs" Then he got down to the not so great stuff. "Hmmm, he'll have the hairy back, and she'll have the chin hair, and this one, this one right here, we'll give her an overactive sweat gland...heck, I'm tired of passing these out, let's just give them all to her." And that's how I got my propensity to sweat. Like a guy. I'm not even joking.


This is a documented fact that goes back as long as I can remember. In preschool, in high school, skinny, fat, while working out, while sitting on the patio in anything about 90 degree heat. Texas has been a cruel place to grow up in that regard. While most girls run 3 miles outside in August here in Texas and produce one, tiny dainty drop of sweat, *I* look like I could star in the latest rendition of Swampthing...AS Swampthing.


So back to my story. I have gotten past this fact for the most part and embrace it. But old habits die hard when you're hanging with your coworkers in a gym that's smaller than your house. Comments I have gotten in the TWO days I've worked out:


"Oh, did you just run outside?" "No?" "Oh." (I just ran 2 miles on the treadmill....inside)
"You must be almost done working out" (nope, just got started)
"Wow, you really sweat a lot" (yes, and thank you for noticing)
"Gosh, are you hot?" (yes, what tipped you off?)
And I got a lot of wide-eyed looks. Geez Louise, people!


The best....the absolute best is when one of the guys from my area decided to 'assist' me. Let me paint the scene. I've already finished running. I want to do 20 minutes on the elliptical. So I jump on. Hot guy from another department gets on next to me. On the other side of him? A girl from my area that is Polly Perfect. Perfect body, hair, nary a drop of sweat. So I'm feeling a little uncomfortable, but putting my all into working out. Just when I didn't think I could get any more uncomfortable, my coworker silently walks up behind my machine, sticks his arm out and hands me a huge wad of paper towels and give me a look like 'here, you may need these'. Okay okay, it was a nice gesture. But I was taken straight back to Junior High. I felt like the dorky kid who's mom came up to school and say 'Here's your constipation medicine' in the hallway in front of the cool kids. (not that that's actually happened, but you get the picture). Ug. "Thanks Marvin" I said and smiled as I proceeded to mop off three quarts of sweat off my brow.


This didn't deter me and I went back again today. Oh well, my coworkers have seen me bitchy, they've seen me funny, they've seen me serious and now they've seen me sweaty. I'll add gassy in there next month and then they'll get a true picture of who I am.


Alright, I'll now start taking applications for all of you that want to date me after hearing that story. The line forms here. ::crickets chirping::


Fine....moving on. So a post wouldn't be complete without some form of doggie malady. We had the parasite of last week (still on medication, thanks) and now we have something new. Gracie is officially the world's most unlucky dog.


So yesterday after work we went out in the backyard....the newly! mowed! backyard. (they left the sunflower trunk by the way...but edged nicely around it) Gracie went to the fence line and starting barking at my neighbor's dogs. I Cesar Millaned her ass and tried to get her to stop. She ran down the fence line the other way. And then yelped. And then ran towards me. The rest of this story took place in about 10 seconds. I look at where she had just been and see at least 20 hornets/yellow jacket/some kind of winged insect of death. I look over at Gracie who has one on her back and is rubbing her face on the ground. I look back at the swarm. Holy hell, they're headed towards us! So I grab Gracie like a small child and run towards the house (this all felt very dramatic at the time). We get inside and I look for a stinger (I forgot, only bees leave stingers). I couldn't figure out where on her face she got stung. I then proceeded to watch her of the next 45 minutes in case she had a bad reaction...because THAT would be typical. Luckily, no worries. I get home from dinner and a late night jaunt to work and notice where she was stung. Right above the eye. She now looks like a pirate with one puffy squinty eye that appear to need a patch. Poor Gracie. She said to tell you 'Arrrrgg!' Oh and her parasites said to say hello too.

Told ya!

Not only did I NOT post something for my one year anniversary, but what I'm about to post probably should be tagged 'lame-o post by Megan'. Seriously. But really now, I've been workin all day and had class tonight. I can't be held responsible for coming up with something clever and witty as well.

To celebrate my one year blogaversary , I skipped 30 minutes of class tonight and ate dinner and had a margarita by myself. no, seriously. Well, it wasn't *really* to celebrate, I just felt like fajitas and a strong margarita and couldn't convince anyone to go with me. So I ate by myself. Like the mature adult that I am.

Ahem...alright. And what did I do to celebrate during the day? Well, I officially hired someone to do my lawn! Woo hoo! After almost 5 years I'm calling it quits. Because really? I suck at it and in Texas is requires that you get up at say, 4 o'clock in the morning in order to avoid any direct sunlight. Because once the sun is out, one stray ray and you're toast. Literally. So I'm paying someone to fry their fanny off for me. Or maybe that's instead of me. Whatever.

And you know what I did tonight after school to celebrate? That's right, I got out in my backyard at 10:30 at night with a hacksaw and cut down the ginormous sunflower plant in my backyard. No, I'm not exaggerating. the lawn is in need of a good trim, but Lord almighty, I let this sunflower get out of control. I'm not even joking when I say that the 'trunk' was as big as my forearm and that I needed a SAW to cut it. I couldn't even get it all. I was too afraid of a neighbor peeking over the fence and seeing a very sweaty single girl who owns lots of animals and who gave herself ankle tattoos in class with a blue pen, hacking at a sunflower plant in the backyard that rivals Seymour from Little Shop of Horrors. I actually felt like that thing was ALIVE. Well, I mean, it WAS alive, but I mean like it was going to come to life, wrap it's tentacles around me and choke me to death. Uh huh, that wasn't even the margarita talkin. Anyway, I got most of it, but not all of it, the hacksaw blade got DULL if you can believe it. I can't.

And this was all in an effort to save myself the embarrassment of these new lawn people coming over and making a note on how white trash I am. Problem is, when you cut down a redwood tree size sunflower plant....there isn't a lot you can do with the 'remains'. So there's sitting on my back porch. Nice.

Okay, I know what you're thinking. Sunflowers? seriously Megan? Big, bad *sunflowers*? I'm here to tell ya, those things are crazy. Please see below.

http://www.johnson-county.com/secondaryroads/WeedComm/WeedSpecies/wildSunflower.shtml

okay, I know that's Iowa, but I swear that's what it is.

These are Texas pics

the photographer noted that the hazy effect is not due to fancy photoshop, it's due to HUMIDITY affecting the camera. Nice.

okay, I did not let it get that bad, but see? Little dude's about to get swallowed by that thing! If I had given it another month...this is totally how it would have looked.

The lesson? pick you damn weeds, Megan.

Alright, now down to the real business of my blogoversary. I'd do something cool and neat, but I only have 5 readers and technically one of those is me, so if I ask for questions, as in, ask me anything! I'll answer! I'm afraid I'd pretty much get questions like 'hey, I stopped here and read about your bunchy eye, can you tell me more about that?' (can I tell you that that's one of the most frequent searches that gets people here) or 'Megan, are you coming to see me and your father this weekend?' (except my mother would use better grammar than that). So, how bout this. If you're so inclined, ask away (e-mail or comments). If not, don't. See? No pressure.

Alright, time for bed. Oh, and I need to take some benadryl for the rash that the sunflower plant gave me. I wish I was kidding. It is exacting it's revenge. If it learns how to use a hacksaw, I'm in trouble.

Oh wow...

...two posts in one night...how lucky are you?? Please don't answer that.

I just realized my one year blog anniversary is on Tuesday! One whole year!

Why does it feel like I need to throw some sort of party? Ya know, me and my 5 readers can celebrate by doing jaeger bombs and eating cake. Because I love me some cake.

Hmmmm, I'l have to think of something super-creative to do on Tuesday. And given my creativity as of late(12 dog diarrhea posts anyone?). I'm sure it will be a let down fabulous.

I need help

No, not that kind of help, silly. although I suppose that could be argued. Especially when I listen to Guns and Roses whilst running and envision situations in my head where I may have to get in a fight. Of course, not one that I started, but more one that I had to finish. And how I think that even though I've never been in a fight once in my entire 31 years, I somehow think that I could take down any opponent. As long as it's a girl and she's like 5'2" and maybe weighs like 100 pounds. And maybe she only has one arm. Of course, why would she be picking a fight with me? Who knows. All I know is one armed, short, skinny chicks love to get into fights with behemoth girls.

Ahem...where was I going with this?

Oh yes, I need help. I have successfully picked out a new dining room table, a sectional, an ottoman and a side table, but have yet to find an area rug to go under said pieces of furniture. I don't want the traditional oriental/flowery/formal rug. Nor do I want a very geometric rug. Nor do I want a brown rug, or tan, or white. See I'm limited myself down until all that's left is the Hello Kitty rug and the Mary Kate and Ashey Hi Hippie Hooray Multi Sigh. So here are some pics so you can get the lay of the land. And yes, the tags are still on my couch. I somehow think if I don't like it or if there's something wrong that the tags will be a necessity. Like I'm going to load it in my car and take it back to the store and they're going to need to see my receipt and the tags will need to be on it. Like a pair of pants. Even *I* think I'm ridiculous, so please don't point out the obvious.

Anyways, back to the rug. Considering I have just had to sell my soul to the devil (I got around $5.75 for all of you who were wondering) to get all this furniture, I'm trying to go inexpensive, but not cheap for a rug(s). So...HELP! I was thinking of going all blue and brown with the pillows for the couch...but have had no luck finding a rug that would go with that scheme that wasn't all all brown or just crazy blue. Then I found a rug in green I kinda liked but my mother asked if it was a joke. Then I thought about going shag... maybe even green shag. Am I out of my mind?? So these are the ones I've kinda liked so far. But I need your help. What do you think? Do you have any suggestions? Any places you like to shop?

http://www.overstock.com/Home-Garden/Hand-tufted-Contempo-Circles-Green-Wool-Rug-5-x-8/3187456/product.html?tid=CartLayer:StandardShipping

http://www.overstock.com/Home-Garden/Basic-Stripes-Rug-in-a-Box-by-FLOR-3-x-5/3092396/product.html?

or something made of this?

http://www.sansomshagrugs.com/images/limebus3.jpg

Why I'm stuck on green, I'm not sure. Somehow a blue shag carpet would be crazy, but green? totally normal. I think you can see by the pics though that I neeeeeed some color.

Ideas?

P.S. Gracie is doing much better...no more explosions and she's on a 21 day medication for coccidia. And despite me feeling a little rumble in the jungle after eating Pei Wei tonight, apparently I can't get it. So much for my speedy weight loss plans. We'll have to try for a different parasite next time.

Wait...I'm not nuerotic?

I'm a O84-C69-E79-A57-N7 Big Five!!
Does this mean I'm guilty of false advertising?

Openness to Experience/Intellect

High scorers tend to be original, creative, curious, complex; Low scorers tend to be conventional, down to earth, narrow interests, uncreative.

You enjoy having novel experiences and seeing things in new ways. (Your percentile: 84)

Conscientiousness

High scorers tend to be reliable, well-organized, self-disciplined, careful; Low scorers tend to be disorganized, undependable, negligent.

You are well-organized, and are reliable. (Your percentile: 69) <-- ha ha ha, 69!
Extraversion

High scorers tend to be sociable, friendly, fun loving, talkative; Low scorers tend to be introverted, reserved, inhibited, quiet.

You are relatively social and enjoy the company of others. (Your percentile: 79) <-- relatively social? have you seen my Facebook pictures?

Agreeableness

High scorers tend to be good natured, sympathetic, forgiving, courteous; Low scorers tend to be critical, rude, harsh, callous.

You are neither extremely forgiving nor irritable. (Your percentile: 57)

--->Neuroticism <---

High scorers tend to be nervous, high-strung, insecure, worrying; Low scorers tend to be calm, relaxed, secure, hardy.

You probably remain calm, even in tense situations. (Your percentile: 7) <--'hardy'? Are you calling me fat???

Thanks!l

Thank you to everyone for your well wishes. Miss Gracie is doing alright today. She had an accident sometime during he day which is pretty amazing since I haven't fed her in almost 24 hours. Her system is bound to be clear by now! I successfully administered 4 pills to her tonight (finger down the throat party of one) and gave her a little prescription food and so far so good.

The vet continues to amaze me. I called today to get lab results. After getting a busy signal for 20 minutes (they don't have more than one line?) I finally get someone. I ask her if they've gotten the results yet and she asks for my name. She also doesn't seem to have a hold button because then I hear the conversation she has next...she comes back and asks if this is for Tigger. "No, but one of my cats IS named Tigger" Then I'm 'on hold' again. then I hear (not muffled at all)..."Oh! I think your wife is here!" To which I respond loudly "WHO? WHAT?" At this point my employees are cracking up at me. Then she goes away again. She comes back, "Is this (my last name here) Morgan? No, this is Megan (my last name here). "Oh, wrong person. nope, no results for Gracie"

Oooookay. So now my employees are laughing and asking me when I got married in California. Nice.

Fast forward to tonight. I get a message from the vet. "Um, yeah we have the lab results and we want to make sure these are just for Gracie? Well, we know she was the only one you brought in, but we just want to make sure this sample was just hers"

WHAT? You were there and collected it yourself! I'm wondering what the hell this means? Is my dog a mutant? Do the lab results conclude she is part unicorn? WHAT IS IT?

Sigh...I hate waiting. Of course by the time I got the message they were closed. So tomorrow will have to do.

I bought a bottle of wine at the grocery store tonight...what do you want to bet I crack that puppy open, drink half of it and fall asleep at 9:00?

The post where Megan feels like a bad dog mom

**not for the squeamish**

Alright, so the Gracie incident didn't go away after last night. Nope...there was a present (and I use the term loosely...get it? loosely?) on the kitchen floor this morning. THANK GOODNESS it was not on the hardwoods or the carpet. Good girl, Gracie.

I called the vet after I let Gracie out and she had another explosion. That makes three in like 12 hours. They couldn't get me in until 3:30 (seriously? on a Tuesday? and I'm calling before 8am?) but give me the hope that they may call me in earlier. So I did what any good mom would do. I stayed home with my kid today. Not to mention I was super-tired and still needed to work on school stuff...but that's a different story entirely.

So I fed her white rice thinking it would help to have something plain. That got puked up about two hours later. Then we had about 4 trips outside which resulted in 'drippy butt furs' So Gracie got 4 baths today. By the fourth one my idiotic brain finally realized the long butt fur and tail fur had to go. So I cut it all off. Well, most of it anyway. Problem solved during future occurrences. It only took 5 total baths to figure that one out.

So no call from the vet and we go in at 3:30. It has to be mentioned that I have a school presentation at 6:00. Pleeeenty of time, right? So we get there and wait for freakin ever. Finally we get in to see the doc and she does her thing. Examines her, asks if she's gotten into any chemicals, eaten anything strange. I am racking my bran and thinking of nothing. I just couldn't figure this one out. She asks if I brought a stool sample. I can't say the thought didn't cross my mind, but the thought of trying to catch projectile diarrhea coming out of my dog's butt did not seem appealing to me. I love her and all, but washing her shitty ass 5 times was enough contact for me.

So the vet does the next best thing. Sticks her gloved finger up Gracie's butt. Gracie looked at me like 'what in the Fuck is going on here?' Poor thing. Anyway, the doc is again gone for a long time and when she comes back she tells me 'well, this is only preliminary until we get a full stool sample, but I'm basically sending you home with a small pharmacy today.' Ummmmm, really? She then proceeds to tell me that she say MANY organisms in poor Gracie's poop. Many. What?? She's an inside dog! I've already felt guilty recently for leaving her outside in the mornings, but there's nothing in my backyard for her to get into (not to mention she loves to be outside). I suddenly feel like they're going to call the equivalent of CPS for animals on my ass. 'We got a code 87609!! Get'er!' Great.

So the doc proceeds to explain about all the little organisms Gracie is harboring or may be harboring. I recognize Giardia...and worms...and there are a few others thrown in for good measure. Good God, she was just at the vet two months ago! Anyway, Gracie got two shots and I got sent home with FOUR different prescriptions and 8 days worth of prescription dog food (which she can't start eating until tomorrow).

So the vet reminds me to bring a stool sample in ASAP. Ick. But as luck would have it as I'm waiting to pay....well, you know the song 'if you're climbing up a ladder and you hear something splatter....' Well, that's exactly what was happening at my feet. Gracie was splattering all over the floor. AND I was having a conversation with another customer. 'Oh sorry, my dog appears to be shitting everywhere' Then of course the smell hits. Embarrassing party of one your table is ready. Actually, make that table of two...at that point Gracie hid under the waiting room chairs. Soooo, the upside was(there's ALWAYS an upside) ...no collection of a stool sample for me! There ya go vet-lady...there it is! And...gross story....the vet did indeed come collect it...with an index card and a vile...I'm shuddering thinking of the scene over again.


Anyway, lab results tomorrow...hopefully it's nothing more serious than what she already discovered (because it can all be treated with medication).

Now it must be pointed out that I was warned that if it IS Giardia that means I can get it too. And although I washed my hands every time I handled her and even though I cleaned up messes with a bleach based cleaner, what do ya wanna bet that I get it too? Although, the upside (remember, always an upside) is that the vet was saying how often it is misdiagnosed. And that her brother in law had it and kept losing weight, losing weight, losing weight and they could not figure out what was wrong with him. Hmmmmmmm, I'm thinking maybe I'll hang on to the Giardia for a few weeks...drop that last 15 pounds and call it a night? Of course, I may then be known as the girl that shits her pants, but we can't all be perfect, now can we? Kidding! (well, at least kinda)

Oh, and about how she got all this stuff. I have two theories. One, the vet said since I found her as a stray, it's totally possible for her to be harboring a lot of this for years...which would explain her random bouts with these kinda of problems (never this bad though). My other theory is that due to Gracie's penchant for cat poop (it pains me to say this) she may have picked it up from a neighborhood cat. I let her off leash in the front yard and every once in a while I'll turn my back. When I turn back around, I occasionally see her eaiting something. 'STOP IT! Drop whatever you're eating! I tend to scream.' But the damage is done, Gracie has eaten the poop of God only knows what kind of hooligan cat. That's my theory, anyhow.

So if Gracie tries to lick you on the face? Respectfully decline.

Cross your fingers that my little girl will be okay. k? thanks.

Oh, and what has my social life come to that all I talk about is dog diarrhea? Think on *that* one for a minute.