Sweet!

My surgeon released me to resume work as a physical therapist with no restrictions beginning January 26. Happy birthday (Jan 27, for those of you who don't keep up) to me!!!

I'm pretty sure I don't fall under FMLA because I had not worked for the company for 12 months when I went out on disability leave. (I had worked for the hospital for a year, but EnduringCrap took over on Dec. 1, 2008 and I went on on Oct. 25.) However, since they continually stated that having physical restrictions would prevent me from returning to my job, and now I don't have any, they pretty much have to let me return, or fire me.

I called my HR coordinator at EnduringCrap to let her know, then I left the most enthusiastic message I could on The Tool's voicemail. "Hi Tool. I was just calling to give you some good news! I just had my 8 week checkup with Dr. Clinger and he is very pleased with the status of my fusion. He cleared me to return to work without restrictions starting January 26, so I wanted to touch base about my schedule, etc. Give me a call at your earliest convenience to discuss my return. Happy New Year!!!"

I bet his ass burns just hearing that. The company's big sticking point was that I couldn't return with any physical restrictions. Well, Dr. Clinger said I didn't have any. The Tool told the staff that they had hired Ana into my position, but that's not actually true. They had posted an opening for a full time position in addition to mine BEFORE I went out. They hired and started the new therapist months before I went out. In fact, Ana worked full time for over a month before I went out. She was never hired to replace me.

If push comes to shove, I'll make EnduringCrap fire me. Then I'll collect unemployment on their dime for a while just to piss them off. VA might be a right to work state, but employers have to pay into unemployment benefits. Sweet.

Of course, I'll be asking Jackass to make some contacts on my behalf to check my legal rights, but don't think I won't sue the shit out of these people. It would be my pleasure to give half of what I win to the lawyer that helps me kick their asses in court.

( * ) Kiss it, fuckers.

This just in!

Apparently my asshole boss just held an impromptu staff meeting where he informed the staff that it was unlikely that I would have a job to return to and that I probably wouldn't be able to (physically) anyway.

Do you think it would have been courteous to have told me this first instead of having me get a stream of calls from my (apparently soon to be former) coworkers?

Asshole.

And I'm back!

After a whirlwind Christmas Eve and Christmas Day with PB and The Force, PB and I took off for a visit at the farm. Aaaahhh, the farm. Even without a Christmas tree, the farm is perfect at Christmas. We arrived Friday evening and left late this morning, so it was a fast trip, but we squeezed in a lot.

So, the tales will start tomorrow... and we'll start with how to NOT tell your boyfriend he wears "mom" jeans. :)

And a miracle for this year...

You all know Jackass is married. I've struggled for the past 12 hours with what to call her here. I mean, Mrs. Jackass doesn't really do her justice, and after last night I'm tempted to call her Ass-Saver (as in, she saved mine) but that's not quite nice either.

So, for now we'll call her E the Computer Goddess... or at least E who knows waaaay more about how to fix my screw ups than me, but that's a little long.

One of PB's gifts for The Force is a CD of songs they like to sing together. The Force is a crazy singer, so PB came up with 15 songs, some of which we had, some that needed purchased off iTunes. I got the playlist ready on Monday. In a fit of stupidity, I decided to "clean up" my computer on Tuesday afternoon. By clean up, I really mean, delete things I don't use or don't know what it's needed for. Ummmm, this included QuickTime. QuickTime, which is necessary to run? iTunes, of course!!!!

So I downloaded QuickTime again... and again... and again. Still, no iTunes working. Then I do a system restore. Nothing.

I put in the Emergency call to E the Computer Goddess. Actually it was a text to Jackass since I didn't know if they'd still be awake and I feel much more comfortable waking Jackass for such inconveniences. She told me to download QuickTime. We discussed. She told me to do a system restore. We discussed.

She got on her own computer and realized what I had not. I was trying to download QuickTime WITH iTunes. I already had iTunes, just no QuickTime. My computer wasn't understanding. She got me to the right place for QuickTime only, and TA-DA!!!!!! It worked!

It's a Christmas miracle!

Now, for your sheer enjoyment and disbelief, I'm including the playlist for the Christmas CD...

• theme song from Maverick
• theme song from Spiderman
• theme song from Batman
• Jesus Loves the Little Children
• Puff the Magic Dragon- Peter, Paul, and Mary
• The Tralala Song- from the Banana Splits
• I Like to Move it- from Madagascar
• Who Let the Dogs Out- Baja Men

(Those are all normal for a 2.5 year old, right? Bet you won't see the next ones coming.)

• All I Wanna Do- Sugarland
• Watching Airplanes- Gary Allen
• I'm Gonna Miss Her- Brad Paisley
• Black Horse and the Cherry Tree- KT Tunstell
• Our House (is a very very very fine house)- I can't remember who sings it, but it's old.
• Life in a Northern Town (live)- Sugarland et al
• I'm Yours- Jason Mraz

And the 2.5 year old? He sings the words. Seriously.

So thank you, E the Computer Goddess. Because of you, The Force will have a great time singing his favorites, PB will be happy to have put together such a fine playlist, and I still have hair ('cause I was ready to pull that shit out last night)!!!

Part Duh

Okay, I forgot to mention that yesterday's post was a 2-parter.

As I sat in the Houston airport, happily munching away on my slice o' pepperoni pizza I was unabashedly people watching. I love to people watch. I scanned the crowds (droves, really) as they scuttled from point A to point B, some only to have to head to a point C or return to point A again. It's good stuff, especially around the holiday season. Everyone's in such a rush, even if they're going to sit at a gate for their 2 hour layover. I enjoy sitting back and watching the world go by.

So, imagine my surprise as I scanned the crowd when I recognized a familiar face. A familiar face in the way that I recognized the face but couldn't for the life of me place where I knew it from. I struggled for a few minutes, staring at the woman (who was with her husband and small child) then looking away, then staring, then away... The next time I looked back she was looking me dead in the eyes. Holy shitballs, Batman, I've been discovered! Holier shitballs, Batman, that's Ana Gasteyer from Saturday Night Live. Ana Gasteyer of the great Christmas Martha Stewart impersonation fame. She's sitting at the table kitty corner to me. I was practically having dinner with Ana Gasteyer.

Then I froze. I looked right at her and said...

TK: You're Ana Gasteyer, aren't you? (pronouncing Ana in the O-na sounding way that is her name).

Ana: Yes I am. And you said my name correctly.

TK: I pay attention to that stuff. I think you're funny. Thank you for sharing your comedy with the world.

Ana: Oh, thanks!

TK: I'm going to go back to eating my pizza now so I'm not one of those crazy stalker fans that tries to get you to sign my greasy pizza plate. Merry Christmas.

Ana: Oh, okay. Merry Christmas to you, too.

And that was that. I carried a watermelon. I am sooooooooooooo smooth. WTF?

By the time I got to Atlanta, Mom and Jackass had made it back to the airport. On their first trip as they drove down the back roads from the farm to I-20 they passed a dump site where the locals take lots of illegal trash and throw it off the side of the road. Ryan had looked over and seen what appeared to be 2 dead puppies. "Oh man, dead puppies." Mom hit the brakes. "Are you sure they're dead?" "They sure looked dead." Mom turns the car around because nobody driving by should have to see dead puppies on the side of the road on Christmas Eve. They were at least going to move the little guys.

As Ryan jumped out of the car, one puppy attempted to scamper away. The other was so weak that all he could do was lift his little head and growl. "Oh my God, they're alive." Ryan chased them down while Mom grabbed a box from the trunk. They put the two WORST SMELLING PUPPIES EVER in the box and Jackass held them all the way back to the farm. They were wild little guys, starving and dehydrated, full of worms and bacteria, and covered with the worst mange we've ever seen. Nobody really thought they'd live through the night, but at least they would die in a warm stall in the barn, full of soft sawdust, warm and with full bellies.

But seriously, you didn't think they would die, right? 'Cause they didn't. We spent that week feeding, bathing, and nursing those little dudes back to health. Jonah and Jude, our Christmas miracle puppies.

And live they did. Then they started to grow. And grow. And grow. Both have had problems that needed to be fixed due to their dire beginnings, but with the love of their forever families they've both grown into 100+ pound joyful, beautiful, big-hearted dogs. Jonah needed eye surgery to fix eyelids that grew inward (a little nip/tuck if you will) and Jude needed bits of bone removed from his knee joints, and a back leg realigned. The vet was sure that his problems were due to his very poor nutrition so early in life, and the fact that it appeared that both puppies had been hit by cars and shot with bb or buckshot. Po' lil fellas.

So, it was a 2-fer Christmas miracle kind of year.

It's a bit odd to me that tomorrow is Christmas Eve. The weather is certainly cold enough here, but truthfully having had 2 months off of work has left me a bit out of the loop as far as the build up to Christmas goes. Don't get me wrong, I've done plenty of shopping and seen all the lights, saw Santa 3 or 12 times, and have had my tree up since the day after Thanksgiving. It's just been a little slow to build this year. I'm glad I have PB's family to hang with on Christmas eve and Christmas day, and even happier to be heading to see my own parental unit on the 26th with PB in tow.



All this Christmas nostalgia has reminded me of a great story from a Christmas several years ago when I was living in Alaska. I was on the 21 hour trek from Fairbanks to South Carolina and my plane from Seattle to Houston was waaaay late. Almost half of the passengers on my plane were connecting in Houston on their way to Ft. Lauderdale... on the last flight of the day. There was no way any of us were connecting to anywhere. As luck would have it we had a strong tailwind and the pilot was able to make up a fair bit of time in the air.



As we flew, the family seated in the row in front of me became increasingly despondent at the thought of not making their connection to Ft. Lauderdale... or, the parents became increasingly despondent. The kids? Oh, they were SURE that Santa would know they missed the flight to Ft. Lauderdale and their presents would surely be in Houston on Christmas morning. The dad kept saying, "But Santa thinks you're going to be at Grandma's house in Ft. Lauderdale!" As much as dad insisted, the girl's faith in Santa was more persistent.

By the time we were approaching Houston we knew two things. 1) A lot of us were going to miss our flights, and 2) We had made up enough time to barely catch the now late plane departing for Ft. Lauderdale. The pilot came on the intercom to tell us as much, and the plane erupted in cheers when he told us that the air traffic controllers had agreed to hold the Ft. Lauderdale plane at the gait until our plane could connect. Someone in the back yelled, "It's a Christmas miracle!" and the plane erupted again. I think the dad in front of me may have passed out. The pilot told us that no matter what, no one else was going to make their connection, so could we all help him out and assist the passengers going to Ft. Lauderdale in getting off our plane as quickly as possible so they could run for the other gate. And, for once, people on the airplane weren't assholes. People actually helped get bags out of the overhead bins, helped people with children, and didn't clog up the aisle like they usually do.

I called home to tell my parents not to leave for the airport yet as now I had a 3.5 hour layover in Houston before the next flight. "Oh, don't worry, your mother and brother have been and gone twice now. We've got half-dead Christmas puppies they found on the side of the road. That's all I'm telling you, they'll tell you the rest when they see you," says my Poppy.

So, I sat in the Houston airport, ate a piece of pizza, and met Ana Gasteyer. Not a bad layover.

Why I'm a winner and how you can be, too.

Enter contests. Lots of contests. Frequently.

My local country radio station sponsored a drawing for a 42" Toshiba flatscreen, Sony Blueray DVD player, and a year worth of rentals from a local movie store. There were several drop boxes around town and you could enter once per day.

The same radio station sponsored 1 hour on a Friday a few weeks ago where the YMCA initiation fee was waived. PB and I had talked about joining the next time this was offered, so we jumped on the chance. While there, I noticed there was a drop box for the contest at the YMCA. I signed up. Then I decided that each day I worked out I would enter. The chance of winning would help motivate me to continue going. I never really thought I would win since I was pretty sure everyone else was doing the same thing. Either they weren't, or I'm just that lucky.

They called this morning at about 10:00. Needless to say I was more than a little excited. I'm now on the radio yelling "HOLY COW!!!". Lucky for them that's all I yelled, you know, 'cause I love the f-bomb. They were excited that I listened to their station and knew who they were. Apparently the last person who won a big prize package didn't listen to their station and had forgotten she even entered. A little anticlimactic for them.

So, I collected my loot, rented my first 2 free DVDs (even watched "Stepbrother" on Blueray... and it turns out the little place doesn't really have much in the way of Blueray, but hey, it's still free DVD rentals) and dragged it all home. PB helped me set it up tonight and we really did pretty well with keeping all the cords straight. The worst part is trying to arrange the cable box, Blueray DVD and DVR up so they all fit behind the tv, since nothing fits under it.

It turns out I didn't need to go to Nebraska at all to get my flatscreen!

I'm a winner!!!!!!!!!!!

Remember this summer when I won all the gas cards? Well, I just won a 42 inch flat screen television, a blueray DVD player, and a year's worth of blueray DVD rentals. Who did I win it from? The same country station as I got all the gas cards from. I heart Kickin' Country. I am one contest winning fool!!!!

Your result for Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz...

You Are a Katharine!

You are a Katharine -- "I am happy and open to new things"

Katharines are energetic, lively, and optimistic. They want to contribute to the world.

How to Get Along with Me

• * Give me companionship, affection, and freedom.


• * Engage with me in stimulating conversation and laughter.


• * Appreciate my grand visions and listen to my stories.


• * Don't try to change my style. Accept me the way I am.


• * Be responsible for youself. I dislike clingy or needy people.


• * Don't tell me what to do.

What I Like About Being a Katharine

• * being optimistic and not letting life's troubles get me down


• * being spontaneous and free-spirited


• * being outspoken and outrageous. It's part of the fun.


• * being generous and trying to make the world a better place


• * having the guts to take risks and to try exciting adventures


• * having such varied interests and abilities

What's Hard About Being a Katharine

• * not having enough time to do all the things I want


• * not completing things I start


• * not being able to profit from the benefits that come from specializing; not making a commitment to a career


• * having a tendency to be ungrounded; getting lost in plans or fantasies


• * feeling confined when I'm in a one-to-one relationship

Katharines as Children Often

• * are action oriented and adventuresome


• * drum up excitement


• * prefer being with other children to being alone


• * finesse their way around adults


• * dream of the freedom they'll have when they grow up

Katharines as Parents

• * are often enthusiastic and generous


• * want their children to be exposed to many adventures in life


• * may be too busy with their own activities to be attentive

Take Are You a Jackie or a Marilyn? Or Someone Else? Mad Men-era Female Icon Quiz at HelloQuizzy

Things you learn in one day...

I've had an interesting past 24 hours. Here's what I've learned...

• If you're at evil Wal-Mart and one young black man calls another young black man a bitch-assed n***er, and they agree to take it outside, and a Wal-Mart employee hears them, they WILL LOCK THE DOORS to keep their law-abiding patrons inside and the fight outside until the police arrive. While this may have been a relief to the people inside, the people trying to get in got a little panicked. Of course, I say to them, get back in your cars! The store is open 24 hours a day, they're going to unlock the doors at some point and all the material goods you wish to buy at low, low prices will still be there.
• It will take approximately 3 minutes for 4 police cars to hit the parking lot with lights and sirens in full effect.
• This will end the fight immediately.
• While you're waiting for them to let you out, you might see the son of the old lady who has Chuck/Lewis. If you ask about the puppy (because let's face it, I couldn't NOT ask about the puppy) you'll find out that indeed the old lady came to her senses and within a week Chuck had been happily relocated to her daughter's house in Richmond, where he has a middle schooler and high schooler doting on him and fighting over who gets to walk him and for how long. It seems they'd lost the elderly dog they grew up with a while back and have been begging for a puppy. The son thinks it's a very good match (with a fenced yard) and is pleased the puppy is out from under his mother's feet.
• "Australia" is a great movie. The cinematography, costumes, and special effects are dazzling. And Hugh. Hugh Jackman. There is a very good reason he was named the Sexiest Man Alive this year. HOLY.COW. Seriously. A sweeping love story on many levels (land, man, child), trickery and deception, explosions, love lost, love found, love found again... I want to see it a million more times.
• A 4 1/2 pound pan of macaroni and cheese will not thaw overnight in your fridge. Nor will it thaw in 2 hours outside of your fridge. It will be a good thing that you checked this in time to ready the oven and cook it for the full hour it takes while still frozen.
• There will be a very happy 2 1/2 year old (and lots of other happy kids) thanks to your efforts.

Well, everyone who guessed I ate this

was right. It's a southern delicacy known as "Punch bowl cake" which does contain cake, various fruits ("anything you got" says the cook), coconut, nuts and layers of whipped cream. The large black cook who made it totally caught me snapping a picture and came over to the table. "Do you know what that is honey?" I confessed I only knew because PB had told me, so she gave me the ingredient scoop. I don't think she'd ever had someone take a picture of it before. Now, PB also says it's usually made with vanilla cake, which I would have preferred since I don't like combining fruit and chocolate. But some things just can't be passed up.

And Matt, I'm looking forward to 2009 when you're less of an asshole. Just sayin'.

Update!!

It's a beautiful, sunny, warm day here in FarmVegas. Of course, the switch will flip tomorrow and it's going to be frigid again, but I'll take today while it's here.

PB and I joined the local YMCA a few weeks ago during a "no initiation fee" drive. It's only $30/month and the facility (and all equipment there in) is new since they opened their new facility in May. I've been going faithfully and PB (who's a nationally certified personal trainer) is helping me work around my restrictions to still make headway in the strength department. It's been good. I'm even going to try swimming starting next week.

I hauled myself over there this morning and did my routine. On the way home...

I SAW CHUCK/LEWIS!!!!

Every time I pass their house, I slow waaaaaaaaaay down (sometimes punching PB in the arm or leg to remind him to let me stalk) so I can scope out the yard and see if he's outside. Today, I'm happy to report that he was. He was outside with the old lady's grandson having a BLAST playing in the warm sun. It made my heart warm.

I'm happy to report that Chuck/Lewis has never been out loose (to date) and obviously the old lady's family is supporting Chuck/Lewis well, and he was a healthy-looking, wiggly, happy puppy this morning. Maybe he's got a silver lining!

Oh what a difference a year makes!

Otis and Oz, Dec. 2007.

Otis and Oz, Dec. 2008.

Now, let's play a game...

One of these things I ate. One I did not.

Guess which is which.

I had my second post-op visit for my back yesterday. I have to admit, I've been a little on the slack side of wearing my brace for the past week. I mean, I feel good, I'm not doing a whole lot, so it's not a big deal to not wear it, right?

Here's the letter I could have gotten from my doctor:

Dear TK,

Please don't be an asshat. Your spine is beginning to heal. BEGINNING. You have a primary fusion starting. Don't go and ruin all the work I did by being a douche and not doing as I say. You don't want your primary fusion to turn into a failed fusion (bad) instead of a healed fusion (good) or we'll have to start all over again and it will not end well. Now, put that big ugly bitch of a brace back on and tough it out for 3 more weeks.

Regards,
Dr. Clinger ('Cause he looks like Clinger from M*A*S*H)


For all of you who work in cubicle hell... check out Terry Tate, Office Linebacker. Man that makes me laugh.

2 posts in one day? WTF?!?!

More from the Christmas light extravaganza!

My personal favorite... Check out the NASCAR Santa and Pit crew elves on the roof!

There was more Christmas cheer here than one kid (or adult) can handle without starting to twitch.

Can you imagine the set up and tear down time to this place? I think they must have a storage unit for Christmas alone.

Now, Xerox is doing a very cool thing. Click on www.LetsSayThanks.com, pick out a card, click on a generic statement or write your own, and Xerox will print it and send it to a service man or woman overseas. It's pretty cool.

Also, keep my Grammie in your thoughts and prayers. She's made a hospital pitstop for a few days to get an infection under control and get her strength back. I'm hoping she'll be back on her feet in a few days and ready for some Christmas celebrating when I go home in a few weeks!

It's Christmas, Yo!!!

Oh, I do love this time of year. Despite the bickering about Merry Christmas versus Happy Holidays controversy, I can't help but find myself full of good cheer. I put up my Christmas tree, decorated it, and stepped back to see that it's still a little lopsided from the kitten attacks of last year. I tried to fluff it up the best I could, but in the end decided I liked it a little lopsided. It reminds me of what it's been through, and that makes me smile. Now it's got some presents underneath, and Otis is not as interested in climbing it, which is good.

The ladies in the apartment leasing office got my a huge basket full of pet stuff to thank me (on behalf of the animals) for all I've done to help the strays and lost-ones around our place. It was totally unnecessary, but very kind. It had this HUGE pink "Cats Rule" bag that was perfect for carrying blankets and extra scarves on our parade o' Christmas lights (redneck and not... more to come).

Had I not been the attentive girl I am, I might have overlooked Otis hiding inside the bag before I left. What? Otis got inside something? That's so crazy.

PB and I took The Force all around town to various home-grown light displays. Once The Force got the hang of what was going on he wanted to be photographed in front of ALL of the characters. A lot of the pictures turned out like this one, though, because he didn't trust that they didn't move away while he was waving and I was taking the picture. He kept turning around to make sure Mrs. Clause (and all the others) hadn't disappeared.

In news of the weird, WTF is this? I'll go ahead and tell you it's a candle currently selling at WalMart, but seriously, does it not look like testicles in a jar? I mean, who the hell wants to burn that? Poor form, Wally. Out of curiosity I checked the scent label expecting to find marshmallow. Was that it? Oh, hell no, this candle is supposed to smell like peppermint. Hmmmm, peppermint balls maybe.

Here's one for everyone who has someone not home for Christmas...


And in Chuck/Lewis updates...

I caught Mrs. W's son outside and spent about 10-12 minutes of frank discussion with him about my concerns and my perception of his concerns. We both agree that Mrs. W is probably in over her head and will, in the next few weeks, understand that. I asked him that if he felt the puppy wasn't being cared for properly because Mrs. W is overwhelmed, or was putting his mother at risk for falls, injury, illness, etc, that he do whatever he thought was necessary to remove the puppy and to call me. Any time, anywhere, I will come get him with no questions asked. He agreed. He also told me that he had been over to walk the puppy a few times already that day and he was doing well. She is keeping him in the large laundry room/mud room inside where he is safe and warm, and he is out in the house with her for "a little while" at a time. He also agreed that having a Beagle as a house pet was probably not the best option for an 80 year old woman, but told me that his sister and her children (who were at the house last night when I dropped Chuck off) were also interested in taking him, though his mother had refused to let them have the puppy last night.

Then I went and talked to Mrs. W. She stopped me at the door and did not let me in, but was very friendly and said the puppy was fine and she would "pass him around" when she "gets tired of him". I made sure, again, that she had my number and made her promise to call me if she found he was too much to handle inside.

I still have concerns, but I know her son is on my side and is looking toward re-homeing (I probably totally misspelled that) the puppy if he can. At least now I know he's inside and warm, and that her son is taking some responsibility for making sure he gets exercised outside. And I know her son understands, because he has dogs of his own and told me he thinks he's too old for puppies, and definitely his mother is! I think it's likely that I'll have Chuck back in the next month, and will have him on to his new home quickly thereafter. He'll be Good Luck Chuck no matter what.

For someone on disability, I sure was up early this morning!

I took Pooh for a long walk over to the house where Chuck/Lewis lives. Thankfully there's a business next door, so I walked through the parking lot to where it butts up to the house. I have to admit, I snooped. There was no Chuck/Lewis tied outside, no evidence that he had been left outside, and no response when I whistled and called him all the way there and all the way back. That made me feel better. I have to admit, I did not sleep well at all last night, my dreams were filled with cold Chucks, and I awoke several times convinced that I was hearing him bark outside my window. That old lady might have slept better last night, but I was a mess.

Today when I go to join the YMCA (yep, I'm becoming that girl) I'm going to drop in and just ask to check on him again. I'll also leave a note at her son's house that says if the puppy gets tied out or isn't being cared for properly, I'd like him to call me to come get him... anytime, anywhere, no questions asked. I think the son is really worried about his mother's ability to care for the puppy and not be overwhelmed, so I think he's on my side.

We'll see if Chuck comes back.

On a completely unrelated note, I had my "high traffic areas" steam cleaned yesterday. The results? Crap. Total crap. They don't look a bit different than before. I'm going to talk to the apartment manager about it later. I don't know if there's anything they can do, but I want them at least to know. I leased the apartment over the phone as I was in Nebraska at the time, and was assured the carpet was "pristine". When I got here? Not so much. They recleaned it and it was much better, but I figured with having a dog and a cat (before Otis came to live with me) that "pretty good" was good enough and they didn't need to replace it. Yeah, I should have had it replaced. I may see if they'll replace the padding in the hallway since the stripping at the kitchen sticks up from under the carpet and I can feel some of the tacks with my toes. Not pleasant. I'm a hardwood girl at heart, but if I'm going to have carpet, it's got to be good!!!

Okay, so I took Chuck, aka "Lewis" back home. The old lady called me, crying, and blessing me for finding her puppy. Swore she didn't sleep a wink last night and definitely wanted to keep him. Said her husband made her leave the dog on the outside porch because the inside heated porch wasn't puppy-proof yet, and he doesn't really like puppies anyway. So, I decided to give her the benefit of the doubt. When I took him over there she was genuinely happy to see him, and him her, and so were the family members that were there visiting. I did a little education about walking him on a leash, keeping him out of the cold, and saw where he will be staying, so I let him stay. I told her to keep my number and if she changed her mind, or if her husband wouldn't allow him to be taken care of properly, that I would come back and get him. In my head, I think I did the best I could. In my heart I hope he comes back so I can find him a younger person to live with. I'll do a drive by and let her son know that, too. Lost once, maybe was an accident. Lost twice? He's mine to find a new home for.

Now I have to break down the crate, and it's a little sad.

The end.

I call him Chuck. I just found his "owner", sort of. I stopped by a house nearby and asked if anyone in that area (a compound of 3 little houses) was missing a puppy.

"Yes, my Mother is". The man replies somewhat nervously.
"Does she want him back? I have him in the car with me."
"Why? Do you want him?"
"If she doesn't want him back I know some people who do."
"How about you give me your number and I'll see if she wants him back. She just got him off the radio a few days ago. She's always getting stuff she doesn't need off the radio. My Father won't let him in the house because he's old and sick (the father) and doesn't want a dog in the house. I told her she couldn't leave a puppy like that outside. It's been cold! This isn't a good time to have a puppy."

So, I handed over my phone number, and immediately started making plans to rehome the puppy. 2 people in the apartment complex and the leasing manager are interested in taking him. I WILL NOT return him to a home where he's kept outside in freezing weather. She didn't even have a house for him. No wonder he wandered to our complex and was running around dazed. I wonder if the people from the radio ad had any clue what they were sending their sweet puppy into.

If she calls and tells me she wants him back, I'll tell her I don't have him anymore. I'll tell her I contacted the Animal Control Officer and he said she would get in trouble for leaving a puppy outside when it's this cold. I'll tell her anything I have to, but he is NOT going back there. Seriously.

Look what Santa brought me for Christmas!

Okay, okay, so he's not really mine. The leasing agent from my complex really did show up this morning with this beagle puppy in her arms. "Did you find him?" I asked. Yes. "Did you hit him with your car?" I asked. No. Apparently the maintenance man found him running loose in the parking lot, dodging the morning school rush when he arrived. He's about 4 months old, has a collar on, and is obviously well fed and cared for. My bet is he was put on the porch for the morning and wriggled his way out from between the bars. So, I'm his foster mama until we find his owners. If they haven't been located in a few days, the puppy will become a Christmas gift for the leasing agent's husband, who's always wanted a beagle. (A guy after my own Poppy's heart!) He's a good dog for sure, as he's got spots on his belly, and everyone knows good dogs have spots on their bellies! Pooh King is sure the puppy is after his treats, Otis does not think he should be let out of site as all cats know puppies cannot be trusted, and Oz refuses to dignify this stunt with a response.

Until he's claimed, his name shall be...

Consider yourself warned.

If you have ever considered picking up this bag, purchasing it, and having it for dinner, let me be the first to say... you'd be just as well off picking up a pile of dog crap and putting it in a pan. Seriously. It was FOUL. It has a distinctly rotten odor upon being cooked, and when I ate the first bite, my tongue revolted. Revolted is a mild word, actually. I think my tongue suggested to my brain that I try the wet cat food in the utility room if I was really that hungry. Pooh King thought twice about eating any, and while he did choke some down, I refused to give him any more. Instead, the garbage disposal got the best of it in the end.

So, here's two thumbs down to you, Birds Eye Voila! WTF? Next time, why don't you just stick to the veggies in butter sauce?

'Tis the Season!

Being as it's the day after Thanksgiving, I thought I'd join the rest of the world and go crazy. First, I went to some of the Black Friday sales. Granted, I didn't go at 5am, but I did hustle out at 8 after getting the pets fed and whipping my hair up into a sassy crazy little ding-ding. Then, I decided to put up my Christmas tree. Remember this time last year? Otis was a kitten, and along with his siblings they attempted to take down the tree on a daily basis, if not more often. I thought maybe this year Otis would be content to sit in the box and watch the magic happen.

Yeah, whatever. That 15 pound porker decided to go straight up the tree, as though he was the same size as last year. As soon as I'd get a layer of branches unwound he'd crawl all through it, beating them back down and bending the branches toward the floor. He sure did have a good time with it!

Oz didn't feel the need to get INTO the tree, but she did need to check out some of the decorations.

While I busied myself with hanging the ornaments, Otis took care of keeping the bags on the floor. He maintains his title of "Cat Who Will Get Into Any Available Bag".

After trimming the tree, Otis was content to hang out on the tree skirt. I've got quite a few more ornaments this year than last, and he doesn't seem to want to challenge all the bling. I'll take that.

Scenes from around the villa...

At the Force's latest visit to my apartment, we chilled out and watched a movie. Pooh King, not to be left out of the action, provided an appropriate height foot stool for a wee one. It was his proudest moment.

My resident Mothra. This dude built a web-like nest in one of my mums, and has been hanging out since. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe it's his final resting place. Ick. Note to self: Poke Mothra.

Otis has been working on his ability to wear my "Ironman" get-up. Whever I take the brace off, he's sure to climb inside.

Oz maintains her title of "Cat Who Will Sit On Anything" by perching atop a very uneven collection of cards and stationary. Seriously, it couldn't have been comfortable.

Happy Turkey Day!

Bawk Bawk!!!

I'll be having my annual feast at PB's parents' house. That lady better cook a mean bird or we're breaking up. You can mess with my living arrangements, but don't mess with the bird. Seriously.

Did you know that the drug name for Cialis (yes, the erectile dysfunction drug) is "Tadalafil"?

Seriously, like "ta-da! It's filled! Let's get busy!" WTF?

Oh, TK, how do you know this, you ask? Because yesterday I had a doctor's appointment with my regular family doc to follow up on some things. As I sat waiting on my favorite NP, I got to looking around the exam room. While I wasn't sure of the purpose of a box of old equipment shoved between the wall and the head of the exam table, I did take note of all the stuff the drug companies stock the office with in an attempt to keep their products on the tip of the doctors' tongues. There were the requisite pens, posters, tissue boxes, coffee cups, computer mouse pads, etc, etc. But then, my eyes lighted on the paper roll that covers the exam table. I'm used to the paper being plain white. But no, not today. Apparently the drug reps for Cialis have started providing the paper to my doctor's office. So I spent nearly an hour laughing to myself over "tadalafil". I was so glad it wasn't my "annual" exam! I can't imagine having a pap on top of Cialis paper!

Next time I'm taking pictures.

Stamp of Approval

Thank you Jeebus, it's legit.

I'm officially disabled, and my check is in the mail.

Sweet. Now I have a nap to get back to.

Because it's a YouTube kind of day...

Thanks to the awesome Avitable having it posted on his sidebar, I now have this to pick me up any time I need it. Go ahead, giggle. The man's got moves.

Now, that shit is just funny. She gives an interview, following the pardoning of the Thanksgiving turkey, in front of a guy slaughtering turkeys. WTF.

Yeah, Baby!!!

Thanks to Brook, I know this...



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I need to rethink this whole "day job" thing.

Seriously.

Things that make me immediately have an aneurysm:

Them: "Well, Miss King, it looks like your short term disability claim has been denied because you didn't work on Nov. 1."

Me: But my disability started on Oct. 27. I can't have worked when I was out on disability.

Them: But your plan didn't become effective until Nov. 1, so we've dismissed the case.

Me: I'm having an aneurysm now, because of you. Will you cover that?

Them: No, you didn't work on Nov. 1.



Things that make my aneurysm go away:

Me: I just found out my disability claim has been denied because the plan wasn't effective until Nov. 1. WTF? You told me I was eligible!

EnduringCrap Rep (ECR): Oh, I'm glad you called. It turns out we switched companies during the exact time your claim was submitted. The new company has denied it because you were out before they started, so we had to submit it to the old company. Fortunately, we have a wonderful claims agent at the old company and all of your information is complete and is being given "asap" priority.

Me: Oh, thank the 6 lb 7 oz tiny baby Jeebus. I was having an aneurysm.

ECR: Don't have an aneurysm. I'm following your case personally since there are unusual circumstances.

So, even though I hate EnduringCrap's everlasting hide, at least the Benefits Coordinator is awesome... and I don't have to have an aneurysm over this.

Do you know what's really good?

Pumpkin cheesecake with so much whipped cream on it you can't even see the cheesecake.

I'll tell you this... Cabot Dairy makes one superior whipped cream in a can.

I was going to take a picture, but I ate it without thinking much about anyone else.

Snack on that, kittens.

Clarification

Okay, I need to clarify what's going on down there at the last post. Keep in mind the following:

A) I was crying when I wrote it... very raw from the news.

B) I've known that not moving in together in January was a possibility, but figured it was a very, very small possibility. Small enough that I only signed a 6 month lease and took the financial penalty that comes along with a short lease. I just wasn't ready for it to go longer than January.

C) The problem with moving in together in January has to do with the fact that his parents own the house he's renting, and what the X might try to do regarding custody of The Force.

D) Oh, and they played the "no pets" card. WTF.

Anyway, I'm okay. We're not breaking up. Yes, our plans have been delayed, but we're okay.

We're not moving in together in January. I am terribly, terribly hurt, and I don't know what to do.

Here's my tattoo as it recovers from surgery. I still have some steri-strips so I haven't seen the whole thing, but so far it looks pretty good. There might be a few spots that don't line up perfectly, but overall not too shabby. For those who don't know, that's the native Alaskan totem of the orca. In Native Alaskan culture, the orca is the traveler and holds the spirit of a journey. It is very, very special to me, and I'm very grateful to the young Dr. Huff for taking the extra time to stitch it up as well as he could versus the 2 minutes it would have taken to staple it. It doesn't bother me that I'll have a scar through the middle of it, either. For me, that's part of my journey.

This is the power of dog and cat begging at my house. PB is eating delicious pizza that we picked up Friday night. As you can see, Pooh King and the Great and Powerful Oz are waiting patiently for the scraps to come their way. Did their begging work? Well, of course it did. What, you think PB doesn't have a heart?

And here are the lovely lillies from Goose and Wacky. They are so, so pretty... just what one needs for a pick-me-up. Of course, Otis thinks they were sent to him and spends a fair part of each day protecting them from possible intruders. Do lillies have any cat-nip type qualities? Otherwise, my cat is just super weird.

Thanks Mitz and Wack. :)

It's so sad when da Mama leaves. I was so lucky that she could come and stay with me for a week. There's no way I could have recovered as well as I have without her help. I mean, who can really get better without roast beef, chicken and rice, pork roast, rice pudding, etc, etc, etc.? Not I, I say. Pooh King got super-duper Old One care, too, and even my shy and reserved cat, Oz, came out of her shell and was stretching up asking to be held before Mom left. The King Family Circus isn't so much of a circus when we show up only 2 at a time.

Pooh King and I enjoy sharing the disability couch. Mom took the picture of Pooh and I bringing sexy back and asked if this one was okay or if she should take another. I looked at it and said, "unless you think I'll lose some weight before the next picture, this will do." I'm not loving the pillow-like expansion on my neck on which my chin is gently resting, but for now, that's how I look while lying on my back on the disability couch. In my defense, I do have on my body armor under the shirt, and I'm sure it pushes everything northward.

Otis decided to be on duty for guarding The Old One any time she was in the big chair. He keeps veeeeeery close watch on she-who-gives-out-the-disgusting-fish-snacks, lest she be injured and unable to keep up with her duties.

So, thanks Mama. I know it was out of the way, and Poppy likely went a little stir-crazy without you, but I am eternally grateful. Shawn pointed out on Facebook that Dad's probably trying to roll back the odometer to hide all his Lowe's trips, and if that's true, don't be too hard on the guy, it's hard to have all that Mama love then be left to your own devices at the farm.

Calgon, take me away!

The reason I'm doing so well... all the love I get from my Peeps.

I'm at the top of the class. Seriously, I am.

I went to my first post-op check up today. The resident who sewed up my gaping surgical hole couldn't believe I was moving so easily. He was stunned, actually. He was really excited for me to see my incision. Apparently since he was my "closer" he got to choose how to do it. Out of respect for my obviously cool Alaska native tattoo, he chose to sew it up the old fashioned way (sort of) and did layers of subcutaneous (under the skin) dissolving stitches and did his best to line the two sides of my tattoo back up. Yes, the surgeon had to cut right through the middle of the tattoo, from end to end. So today when I arrived at my appointment he was darn-near giddy for me to see his handiwork.

The surgeon went through all the normal post-op checks in about 60 seconds and I passed with flying colors. The best news? I GET TO TAKE A SHOWER!!! Ummm, sad but true, I haven't had a real shower since 4:30am on Tuesday the 4th. I did a great job with sponge baths, don't you worry, and da Mama even scrubbed my back and feet for me, but it's not the same as a shower.

Oh, glorious hot running water. I love you. We will never be separated again. It took some awkward maneuvering to avoid breaking my precautions, but I even got my legs shaved. Hip hip hooray!

So tonight I sit with a clean bill of post-op health, but more importantly, a clean body... head to all 10 toes.

And now, a lesson in what you can crop out of a picture... See above? Pooh King cuddling on the "disability couch". See below? Oh, yeah, that's my old lady reacher on the right corner of the couch. That's why we call it the "disability couch". Well, that and it's where I currently spend a pretty good portion of each day... you know, while I'm wearing my BADs and my shield.

A week ago today, my back was fixed. Oh, the places I've been in the past week!

Each day I see myself getting better. I went and got fancy and overdid it a bit yesterday. Oh yeah, I paid. I could hardly move last night. So, I put my brace on and left it on (as the MD ordered), quit being a sneaky little ninja, and rested more today. Situation back in check. (Do you get it? Back in check? I had back surgery! Get it? Seriously, is this thing on?) Ma King took me for a little ride today. I had to pick up Pooh King's fat-dog medicine, and we made a stop to smell yummy things at the local florist's. Gas has dropped to $1.97 in FarmVegas, and as we passed gas stations, I would continually say "Look! It starts with a 1! Can you believe that?" I suppose my fascination with the price of gas will never end.

I have received some wonderful care packages since I came home from the hospital. First and foremost, my friends P&R came the 1.5 hour drive from FarmVegas to the hospital to see me Tuesday night (oh, and I'm sure I put on a fun show!) and rearranged their whole day on Friday to come back and spring me from the hospital, then stay with me in FarmVegas until da'Mama arrived. They are too super sweet! PB had decked my place out with little presents and a blueberry pie! Whoo hoo, now that's what I call the road to recovery! Dianne brought Bob's fresh mustard greens. A friend from work brought soup. I got a package of goodies from Peggy's family (which included Junior Mints! My favorite!) and flowers from awesome petsitter and Goose and Wacky. I've received many phone calls and emails, and for that I'm very grateful. Sorry if you were one of the calls I got when hopped up on drugs. I don't know, though, maybe it was more fun for you that way!

So, thanks for everything, everyone. I really do appreciate everyone checking in on me. Mom will probably leave Friday morning, then we'll see how it really goes. So, anyone planning on feeding me, start lining up!

Who needs pants?

This is Oz-Fest giving me her patented post-surgical upper back massage. She usually perches herself right on my bandonkadonk, but seeing as it's all carved up right now, she gave me the courtesy of moving it up to my shoulder area. Once again, I'm grateful she only weighs 8 pounds and that Otis "McLovin" King (who's at 15#) does not feel the need to sit on top of me!

This is my new brace. Seriously. I have to wear it any time when I'm not lying down on my bed. I'm thinking it needs some decorating. A shield? A belly button? Starry Starry Night? Who knows, but I'm taking recommendations! This brace is what caused a LOT of delay in my initial few days at the hospital. Surgery was Tuesday. On Wednesday the orthotist, Zacky (a delightful older Israeli man) came in to cast me for the brace. It surprised me since the doc had told me I'd have a different kind of brace that they measure your waist and hips for, then pull it off the shelf. This one? Oh, you have to be casted for it! I had to lie flat on my back (uncomfortable), then flat on my belly (super uncomfortable), while they casted me in two halves from collar bones to below hips. Then Zacky takes the molds home to make a custom fit brace that encompasses the full torso and hips.

The doc freaked when he found one which brace they had ordered and demanded that Zacky cut it down to be below the bustline to right at the hips. Zacky literally had to turn his car around, take the brace backto his shop, and begin chopping up the work he had already done to see if he could make it work. I had gone from getting a brace on Wednesday morning to getting it at 7pm on Thursday. I didn't get to try it out until Friday morning about an hour before they discharged me from the hospital, which was also the first time I'd had the head of my bed elevated more than 30 degrees. Thankfully all that worked, and I now have my spine defending brace in place. I have to roll side to side to get it on, but once in place I can do a ton of stuff without much pain at all. Some stuff, like going from sit to stand still sucks and egg, but it's getting better.

And that brings me to why I don't need to wear pants. I have to wear "B.A.D.s" which, according to my mother, stands for "Big Ass Drawers", and a tight t-shirt so nothing will rub wrong under the brace and cause a sore. So there I was this morning, walking around in my BADs, t-shirt and brace, when Mom says to me, "Can I help you put on some pants?"

T: I don't need pants. I'm on disability, and on disability you don't have to wear pants. It's a rule.

Mom: Oh, really?

T: Yep, and since you're officially assisting the disabled, you don't have to wear a bra.

Mom: But I'm going to WalMart this morning.

T: The people at WalMart definitely won't believe you're helping the disabled if you're wearing a bra. Just sayin'.

I wonder what my sweet old "woo woo" WalMart man is going to think of me now!