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Tuesday, June 20, 2006
Operation: Scare Kelly to Death
I think you know by now how much I adore my pets. They are just furry children, in my opinion.

Sophie, my golden retriever, is nearly a year old now, and the sweetest thing ever. Milo, the Jack Russell, is nearly four. Though he is the I have ever owned, he is such a fun boy and very cuddly.

So I come home early one afternoon, and let Sophie and Milo outside. We built a beautiful white picket fence last summer, and the dogs just love to play outside for hours at a time. I am busy in the house doing important chores (ok, maybe I was just on the internet, but whatever) and I leave them out to play.

45 minutes later, I go to call them inside. They don't come. With a growing sense of dread, I walk around the side of the house. The gate's locked, but they are nowhere to be found. I run around the other side. No dogs. They are GONE. And I had just given them baths recently and didn't put their collars back on. Oh, crap.

In an instant, I panic. People drive like maniacs in our neighborhood, and my babies are sheltered. They are probably running around like idiots and paying no attention to the speeding portals of death that are hurtling toward them.

A quick search on our street nets nothing, so I jump in the car to start searching. I am in full fledged panic mode by now. I stop to ask a woman who is mowing her lawn if she might have seen my dogs, and I can't get a single word out before tears start streaming down my cheeks. Where are they??

I call Animal Control. I call the local SPCA. I call my husband, who is even more infatuated with these dogs than I am. He is thankfully calm and supportive and just says, "Keep looking." I tearfully respond, "What if I never find them?"

I drive around calling their names for more than an hour, tracing and retracing my steps. Finally, finally I spot them. Running up a street (where people normally race down in excess of 50mph) looking like they are having the time of their lives. Milo wears a goofy smile that stretches across his face. Sophie's tongue is hanging out joyfully, with a long string of drool waving in the breeze. They are loving their adventure. I want to hug them and kill them.

When I pull over and call their names, they come to me happily. But when I open the car door to shoo them inside, they stop and look at me. I could almost hear their thoughts. "But, Mom, we were having so much fun!" I can't help but hug them and give them another minute of freedom.

Thank goodness we got so lucky, and nothing happened to them. I still have no idea how they got out of the fence, as they have never tried to jump it and the gate was closed. All that matters is that my little furbabies are home.

Bad puppies. Very bad. I think they may have conspired against me.

Saturday, June 10, 2006
The one where you get to know TMI about my vah jay jay


I have thought for a little while about writing this post. I'm not accustomed to writing about troubling or upsetting things in my blog. Normally I just write about funny stuff. But this has been on my mind for a while.

I had to go to my OB/GYN the other day, because I have been having a little problem. I've been spotting for DAYS before my period. I've been off the pill since last fall, and we've been using other forms of protection. But for the past few months, I've been having this spotting issue. Plus, I've been charting to avoid pregnancy, until we were ready. In the process, I realized a couple of things were wrong.

Fast forward to my appointment on Thursday. I'm naked from the waist down, covered by this thin paper piece of crap that they call a sheet. *snort*

Doctor comes in. I start to explain what's going on... spotting, odd cycles, la la LA.

Doctor: "Well, a woman's period comes 14 days after ovulation."
Kelly: "No, it doesn't."
Doctor: "YES, it does."
Kelly: "Well, mine doesn't. I'm lucky if I make it 10 days."
Doctor: "Oh. Then there's definitely a problem."


I am now the proud owner of a somewhat defective uterus. Looks like I have a luteal phase defect and somewhat irregular cycles.

Bad news... this could cause problems for us when we try to get pregnant.

Good news (at least according to my doctor) is that I'm healthy and could probably get pregnant on my own. It's not like I am infertile or anything. If I don't get pregnant all on my own, a little help from a pill or two should get us nice and knocked up.

It's funny... we had planned on trying to have kids sometime soon, maybe later this year. But now that I've learned that we might hit a few bumps in the road getting there... I realize how much it means to me.

It means a lot.

Monday, June 05, 2006
Blogging from home
So I usually leave for work around 8:30a.m. That way, I can make the drive without having to ride anyone's ass and I can get to work about 10 minutes before I actually am required to be there.

But today, it all went to hell. Check out how this morning unfolded.

6:30am: Wake up
6:35am: Iron Jason's clothes (I am the best wife ever!!)
6:45am: Eat some cereal, ponder a trek downstairs to run on the treadmill before work
7:00am: Flip on TV
7:15am: I have to watch the rest of Adoption Story on Discovery (yes, I am a geek). Ponder how I might be able to still get in a few minutes on the treadmill.
7:16am: Eh, fuck it.
7:30am: Wipe my teary eyes as the show ends (geekazoid)
7:31am: Shit, I've gotta get in the shower.
7:33am: But wait, why not check my email first?
7:50am: Ok, so I checked my blogroll too. MUST SHOWER NOW!
7:51am: Shower
8:00am: Finished showering, time to slap on some makeup
8:15am: Makeup's done, but crap! Only 15 minutes to finish hair, dress, grab lunch, and get out the door!
8:16am: But wait! They're talking about something funny on the Today show. Must watch.
8:20am: Blow dry hair in a frenzy.
8:25am: Hair looks like crap, but it's dry. WHY don't I have a job where I can just look like crap and not have to care??
8:30am: Throw on suit with the least amount of wrinkles.
8:31am: Grab my work bag.
8:32am: Dammit! Dogs need to go outside before I leave or I'll get a great surprise later!
8:34am: Dogs have emptied their tanks.
8:35am: Made it to the car! Opening door! Throwing bag in the car! Grabbing my keys!
8:40am: Having searched the entire house, keys are nowhere to be found.
8:41am: Dial husband at work. "Hey hon, I need you to check and see if you have my keys."
Well, actually, it was more like: "LookRIGHTNOWformykeysIamLATELATELATEyoubetternot havethemsohelpmegod!"
Him: "OK,I'll check."
8:42am: Him: "Oops. Your keys were on the passenger seat of my car. I have both sets of keys. Sorry honey."
8:43am: Realize that husband is at work an HOUR away. Realize that I'm not getting keys anytime soon.
8:45am: Unload car. Change out of suit. Call work. Prepare to nest at home because I ain't going ANYWHERE!

p.s. I should mention that it's probably my fault that the keys were in Jason's car. I rode in there yesterday and probably dropped them. But still. I say HE is the reason why I had to call off today. Yea, his fault. Mmm hmm.

All that effort to get ready, and now no where to go. Sigh.

Friday, June 02, 2006
Ever had one of those days where you really wanna just rip your significant other's head off, and then maybe stomp on it for good measure?

Today is one of those days.

And it's only 9:30 a.m.

God help him.