Dude.
People spinning on their heads scare me.

I made the appointment to meet with the N.P.
She’s actually one of my clients, and I really like her. So she’s going to check my thyroid and a couple of other things.
Here’s to 2008, the year of (hopefully) feeling better.

Brian is trying to quit smoking but was out of cigarettes last night so he went to the corner store to pick some up.
When he came home he said “You’ve got to come outside and look at this!”
So I did. And what did I behold, you may ask?
Our community dumpster, on fire. Well, smoking profusely.
I go to call 911, cause “FIRE!” thats what you do, right?
But Brian wouldn’t let me, instead he took a pig pot of water out and dumped in on the smoldering object. I followed once I had shoes on and we started using the pot and the big bowl I had brought out to pile snow on it.
And what was this smoldering object?
A charcoal grill.
A big one.
Yes. I know what you are thinking.
Who the hell puts an entire still hot charcoal grill into a trash container and then just calmly walks away?
I’ll probably never know.
I still think I should have called the fire department.

Is it wrong of me to want these shoes. Because I want them. Badly.

So I’m going to set the blog to private here in a couple of days- send my your email address and I’ll add you as a reader

I set the oven on fire Sunday night. Not on purpose, but Brian didn’t think it was funny at all.

In spite of the fact that it was ALL OVER THE NEWS that we were going to get snowed on yesterday, there was not one drop of deicer sprayed beforehand yesterday. And when I drove Brian into work? It was a huge frozen slush, and not in a delicious way. It was not blue raspberry or watermelon flavored. No, it was drive like a granny conditions, and believe me, I did indeed drive like a granny. Which drives Brian crazy. And means he says things under his breath like “keep moving” which makes me PISSY. Because he could CLEARLY see the snow on the ground. And I offered to let him drive. No worries, he said sorry, and I said sorry and we kissed and made up after our two second round of pissiness.
If you would like to laugh you should read Bossy today. I laughed my ass off.
Also? I need more tea. I am out of tea. THE WORLD IS ENDING.

The answer my friends, is to post a fake ultrasound picture and laugh as the shit hits the fan.
No, I am not pregnant, and those people who are close to me know this.
And those people who are close to me will get a heads up BEFORE I post a pic like that on my blog. But for the time being, like I said, I’m REALLY enjoying watching the shit hit the fan.

I find it amusing how when I post on the other blog where I am a contributer, the one my family knows about- how the number of views from my family and the psycho ex jump. Usually they are content to visit once a day, but on days I post there, I have 4 and 5 views a day from each. They read it over and over each visit, salivating as they do… Site meters are wonderful things. One day I’ll take every post I’ve ever done and put it in one big blog, far away, and then *poof* Every post I’ve ever done on blogger with disappear… Oh how they’ll die of frustration…