The Cutest, Saddest Girl

You guessed it! That's me!

I try so hard to keep up with my daily blog reading obsession hobby because if I miss a day there's a whole lotta catching up to do. Plus, I feel so empty inside and, well, I love you guys! (no, I am not drunk.) Recently, I fessed up to the number of blogs I subscribe to (see blog roll and then some) and was told that I am the cutest (aw!), saddest (whuh?) girl she ever knew.

Excuse me, Ingrid, but shall I don my Bloggers Anonymous 'WTF?' t-shirt now?

Not in the least bit fazed and undeterred in my never ending blogathoning, I have one more site to add to the list that I will faithfully read. The Daily Coyote.

Feathergrass by Shreve Stockton

This site is so wonderful that I just have to share it!

A brief summary: This girl adopted a coyote after it's parents had been shot by a rancher. It lives with her and her cat, Eli. She takes pictures and gives updates on Charlie daily. If you're an animal lover, this site is definitely for you.

You're going to want to start at the beginning because it's just. that. great.

Paper or Plastic

On your way home, you make a quick stop at the store for a couple of items: milk, a bottle of Figi water or gum. The cashier will ask, "Would you like a bag for that?" Sometimes, just sometimes, they don't ask. Sometimes, you have to walk past the hot guy you talked to in the produce section with your car keys and a box of tampons in your hand.

**sigh**

Stethoscope

The sad thing is? This was not my stethoscope. It was a friend's. On loaner. Since mine was stolen by a doctor making rounds. Now, I have to buy two. Awesome. Thanks, Dookie.

Caught Unawares

Seen outside of work:
An EMT standing next to his ambulance blowing snot-rockets onto the pavement.

Me, "That's awesome."
Him, "What?!"
Me, "What do you mean 'What'?"
Him, "Oh. Well... next time you see that you'll remember me!"


Yes, thank you. Next time I need to borrow an air-hankie I'll know who to go to.

Death Wish Part Two

I got home from work at 9:30 one morning, about a week ago. I had Cheerios for breakfast, played with Dookie for a bit, brushed my teeth and crawled in bed. I was asleep as soon as I hit the pillow.

I wrote this as soon as I woke up:

We were driving down a neighborhood street. It was dusty and windy and dark. I'm not sure where we were headed. Me, Christine and my ex-boyfriend were plowing down a dirt road in this huge, green, boat-of-a-car. We skidded to a stop in front of an old house that appeared to be part of a ghost town or movie set at Old Tucson. Something was after us so we ran inside to get away from whatever it was.
Christine and MyEx ran around the corner, down the hallway and through the next door. I tried to follow and got to the end of the hallway when the dark figure came swiftly up and cornered me there. He held out a blade, shaped like a half-moon, and said, "This is what you get for not doing as I say." He held the blade to my throat and pushed. The last thing I remember was the blade going all the way through my throat and envisioning that I was looking down my own trachea which looked like a long, red, sucking tube. I wasn't panicked or franticly trying to get away. I just let it happen. Sure it would be my last, I took a deep breath of warm air and then I woke up.

Again. A violent dream of someone trying to murder me. This time, it appears that they succeeded. What is the significance of this? Is this a premonition? A warning that someone has a death wish for me? A sign that something is off kilter in my life? Perhaps I shouldn't eat Cheerios before bedtime. Or is it a cerebral connection between me and my puppy? I did find a stuffed moose head, minus the body, outside my bedroom door, compliments of Dookie. Is she trying to tell me something?

I have been off of work for several days and have not had any violent, nightmarish dreams. I am unable to recall them when I wake but know, when I open my eyes, that I have had restful sleep and pleasant dreams.
Tonight, I return to work. I am curious to see what the Sandman has in store for me.

Sleep tight, everyone.

Found In Today's Site Meter Stats

Visit Length		0 seconds
Page Views		1
Referring URL		http://www.google.co...SG242&start=170&sa=N
Search Engine		google.com
Search Words		wife order husband to eat her shit and drink her pee
Visit Entry Page		http://scoobers1.blogspot.com/
Visit Exit Page		http://scoobers1.blogspot.com/
Out Click
Time Zone		UTC+7:00
Visitor's Time		Oct 11 2007 1:34:33 am
Visit Number		2,509

It's interesting to see how net surfers end up on my page.
Obviously, this person did not find what they were looking for at Scoobers. My question is, how in the hell did this search string direct traffic to my page?
My other questions is WTF??

There is one sick puppy in Singapore.

Light Weight Champion

I have barely healed from the many bruises and scrapes I obtained from the camping trip from over a month ago. After Rocky Point, I have glass in my heel that has yet to extract itself. I have bruises on my legs and a slightly swollen ankle which I have no recollection of obtaining. My legs look like I strive to be the next Courtney Love.
Tonight, after a long day of cleaning, running errands and cleaning again... mopping up after Dookie's many dookies (four to be exact), I had two beers. Two beers made me stumble and miss a step that I have been walking down and over for over two years. Let me elaborate. I had my first beer at 8 pm. My second, I started at 10 pm and at 10:30, I did this...










If I am lucky, it will heal by Thanksgiving.

Shooting For An Emmy

Who's not well right now? Yikes.

CODE RED!

hmm... what's wrong with this picture?

*I should have taken a better picture with my REAL camera and not my phone.
You can't read the sign.... Note the Big Ass Arrows --> --> --> DO NOT PLACE EQUIPMENT IN FRONT OF FIRE EXTINGUISHER

Chewphoria!

Boy! That sure made me feel like chomping on a minty-fresh wad of gum! You?
My guess is that the TSA would have dragged his ass into a private room off to the side of the terminal and performed a full interrogation and body cavity search only to discover nothing except that he is a complete moron.
Now, THAT would make a great public service announcement on behalf of airline security.

"Act like a Justinesque buffoon... Get a latex glove up your arse!
Happy Flying!"

What a sexy... blister you have!

My less than sexy, unmanicured, flakey, blistery foot.

I went to the Mill Avenue Borders again tonight to do some shopping. Thinking the H.P. guy would be there, I was hoping he would autograph my copy of The Prisoner of Azkaban, for shits n' giggles. He was not there. A girl who kind of looked like a red-haired version of him helped me instead.
Anyway, after cruising around and picking out several books (see Jennsylvania for this little gem), I stopped by the cafe to pick up a latte. As I was handing the girl behind the counter my card, a strange man sidled up beside me, so close that he was touching my arm. Some people seriously have no sense of personal space. I moved over a bit to give him some room and took my card and receipt from the girl. Again, he was touching me. Then in a half whisper he said, "I'm sorry. I was looking at your feet. So small. Pretty." UGH! Completely creeped out, I side-stepped away from him again. He said, looking down at me feet, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. Foot fetish... ", and then something garbled and trailed off. At this point the girl behind the counter, hearing this, tripped over something and redirected his attention to her. I used this as my get-away. Armed with scalding hot latte in one hand and my keys in another, I dashed towards the door, eying that guy the whole time.
I have never been so nervous walking to my car and all the way there the blister on my foot was screaming, "How do you like me now, FREAK?!"