We picked The Boy up Friday night from an overnight Spanish language camp he went to with his school. When we picked him up, he was wound up like you wouldn’t believe. I’d probably guess it was a combination of being away from home, getting sugared up and hanging out in a dorm room for 36 hours with a bunch of boys his age.
I was all excited to have dinner at a Mexican restaurant to celebrate his camp, but the first thing he said when he got in the car: If I never have to see any kind of Spanish food again, I’ll be so happy. So scratch that idea. We gave him a choice for dinner. He chose Old Country Buffet (aka ‘The Trough’) and you know what the first thing he put on his plate was? A taco salad. Seriously.
After his fourth plate of jello and popcorn shrimp, he had a breadstick on his plate that The General really wanted. Instead of just handing it over, he made The General ask for it politely. In Spanish. Pass the bread, please. That’s all we had to say to get the bread. In case you’re curious, it’s “pasar el pan, por favor”. We didn’t find that out until The Boy had eaten half the breadstick.
Later in the weekend, The General and I were killing some time in the car, when I made an attempt to put together my own Spanish sentence using the words I’d learned at dinner the night before. The only thing I could come up with was: “Pase las chichis dulces, por favor.” Loosely translated using my Spanish vocabulary, it means “Pass the sweet tits, please!”
I figure it’s at least something Mel Gibson would be proud of.
Marshall is a 10-week old kitten that was rescued from animal control the day he was going to be euthanized. He couldn’t be adopted out, because of an upper respiratory infection. Right now, he’s sitting with me in the den looking out the window. In a few minutes, I have no doubt that he’ll be helping me finish my freelance work by typing “…..3.3…….3″ which is what he seems to type every time he’s on my desk.
Garcia (on the left) and Morgan (on the right) are 12-week old puppies that were rescued from a reservation in South Dakota. They’re part lab, shepard, mutt, wolf, spider monkey… or so it seems. They’re named after two of our favorite characters on Criminal Minds. Morgan’s tough, but sweet. Garcia’s loud and just wants to be loved. If you’ve seen the show, you can see how their names fit.
But when this happened this morning, there was a different result. It resulted in me getting popped in the eye! I’m over it now and will likely recover from the shock from it. And a big thanks to The General for always looking out for me. Who knows I could have actually flown through the windshield at that stoplight this morning!
The easiest thing for us to set up once we moved was Comcast. They even showed up on time for the appointment to install everything. It took the guy about an hour, but we now have cable in four rooms, which I’m pretty sure wasn’t part of the plan. In other words, I’m not complaining much. Had we had it our way, we would have done our due diligence and found some better Cable TV Deals. Since Comcast sort of… (what’s the word I’m looking for? Oh, right) dominates and strongholds our area.
Sure, they offer a few packages that include things like High Speed Internet (which we love!) and phone service (which we already pay $100+/month for phone service and don’t need anything else, thanks!), but it’s still ungodly expensive no matter how you look at it.
Our choices of Internet Service Providers, if we want cable, is Comcast or nothing. We’ve thought about trying the city wide wireless, but we’ve only heard mixed reviews of it. If the three of us are busy downloading things, it’s gonna be bad news. And here’s the thing, we’re kind of a family full of nerds, so downloading is just kinda what we do.
I can honestly say that Comcast is the one thing that I’ve had a relationship with the longest… even though I want to break up so bad!
This is a graph. It’s a graph that I’m extremely proud of. Not because I figured out how to do it in Excel by myself (because I don’t, please thank Dez‘s guide for that!), but because of the results that have been happening on this graph. It shows how much weight I’ve been losing.
Let’s be honest here. I’ve needed to lose weight for, oh, about 12 years now. I lose 10 pounds and then I gain it back, or better yet, I lose 10 pounds and gain 15 back. This graph dates back to July 12, where I was a tubby as I ever have been. It was not a pretty thing. My scale punched me in the face like four times every time I would try to weigh myself.
Since July, I’ve slowly but surely lost 19.2 pounds. (Please insert gratuitous congratulatory remarks here.)
It’s been a sloooow battle from the start and I fully expect it to continue that way. I wasn’t going to make any mention of it, because every time I do, I do something like hit the Taco Bell drive through for a 12 pack of tacos (it’s only $10!) and then stop at a gas station to get 12 king size candy bars for dessert. Don’t worry, though. I’m not one of those douchebags that then goes in and drinks a small Diet Pepsi.
How I’ve been doing it, in short, is like this: I don’t eat everything on my plate. We always eat a veggie at home with dinner. I’ve taken my soda level down to just one or two a day. Limiting the fast food. Eating small portions of food throughout the day while at work. Having snacks at work that are better than the crap we have in the vending machine.
Things I should probably do, but am having a hard time with: Quit drinking regular soda. Drinking a whole lot of water. Getting off my butt for 30 minutes a day. Taking a daily multi-vitamin.
But with almost 20 pounds off, I’m not exactly mad at myself. You know what I am, though? HUNGRY. It’s lunchtime.
And the reason I wouldn’t call these dogs spoiled is that a few hours later, we actually had to cut Riley’s red sweater off of him. Seems the same sweater I got him 3.5 years ago doesn’t fit him anymore. It could be the fact that he has cleavage… but we try not to judge body sizes in our house.
It also gives me a reason to order a new hoodie for him… provided I can find it in his XL or possibly XXL size.
I mean, who doesn’t want a stamp that’s custom made to say whatever you want it to say? To me, that spells major convenience or absolutely horrible ideas, which, in my opinion, are both big positives. I found a super reasonable place to get pre ink stamps and am now just thinking of the most perfect thing to put on said stamp. After all, the holidays are coming up, which is making the opportunity absolutely limitless.
As I was browsing their site trying to come up with an idea to think of the perfect custom made stamp, I ran across once that might possibly be the most useful stamp in the world. All it says? HOT. In red ink. I think that’s something I could use in not only my personal life while at the bar or at a party, but also at work for things that might be a bit more professional.
Who knew rubber stamps could have such potential??
And sientate means sit. I learned that last night while helping bathe, dry, feed, water, walk, clean up after, and play with 10 dogs that had been rescued off the streets of Cancun/Isla Mujeres and flown up to Minneapolis to find nice new families and homes. During that time is when we were taught the dogs only knew Spanish commands. My extent of the Spanish language are things my 13 year old kid has taught me, what I’ve picked up off Dora the Explorer, and the choppy shit the ungrateful Americans on Amazing Race use when yelling at cab drivers. I really need to learn more.
Since we’re still another couple of days away from being completely unpacked, we’re only temporarily fostering a pup for a couple of days. Her name is Pinta or Pintata or Pizza. She’s five months old, weighs about 20 pounds, and is so sweet I can’t stand it. She was so excited to be in a house and to find out what was on the kitchen counter, and especially to sleep on a couch with a person who covered her up with a blanket in the middle of the night.
It’s possible I spoil these dogs a lot, but c’mon. They deserve it. They’ve been living on streets, eating trash wherever they can find, getting covered in fleas and ticks, and discarded like they’re dirty rats. A little extra padding on their bed and maybe a few extra treats won’t hurt them one single bit.
Visit Pet Project Rescue and I’m sure you’ll be able to see pictures of all the new dogs very soon. And they all need homes!
I'm Wendy. Hi there. I live in North Minneapolis and am originally from Missouri. By day, I work as a recruiter. At night, I hang out with my fiancé, our teenage son, a large boxer, a runt of a small dog and a surly tomcat that's currently sitting in the kitchen sink.