Friday Food - The Puppy Version

After about three months of having our dog on an incredibly restrictive diet - including entirely hypo-allergenic food and treats - we were told this week by the vet that they've concluded that she does not have any major food allergies. (Sorry. Major run-on sentence, there.)

I'm not sure if the three months of abstinence was harder on her or on us. After all, she's a dog who also needs to take pills, so we had to get creative on how to get her to eat them. We actually got some of the hypo-allergenic moist dog food, which - as we were warned - kind of has a "canned cranberry jelly" consistency. But it did work as a medium in which we could put her pills.

As of this week, though, we're back to being able to give her her pills folded into jerky-type treats and - more importantly - peanut butter. If you've been paying attention (or if you did last fall), you know that she is a huge peanut butter fan. So taking that away from her was not fun.

Over the past couple of months, when I would be putting my lunch together in the morning, it was hard to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich with her sitting on the floor with her big brown eyes watching my every move. After a while I gave up and just reserved the PBJs for mornings when I was really craving them, so that my craving could trump her stare.

Thankfully, as of this week, I can eat my peanut butter toast with relative impunity.

To celebrate, as soon as I finish this posting I plan to sit down with a jar of peanut butter and the container of (chocolate) Nestle Quik and a glass of milk. (What? You don't know how those all tie together? You spoon a little bit of peanut butter, dip it into the Quik, and eat it. Then you drink the milk to wash it down.)

Sure, I'll still get the forlorn look from across the coffee table, but the guilt factor will be mitigated knowing that she had her peanut butter earlier today - and she didn't share at all.

Karma du Jour - The Pull-up Bar

Once upon a time in a far off kingdom known as the place I work, one of the people we refer to as "those annoying people" decided that it would be a good idea to bring in a pull-up bar which he hadn't been using at home.

It was one of those pull-up bars that kind of self-mount in any door frame. The weight of the person using it forces it in place and makes it hold tight. Assuming your door is of a normal depth and width.

So it was that, for about three weeks, annoying person would nag and cajole and pressure other people in the office to use the pull-up bar. And, in the middle of the day the rest of us would occasionally - out of the blue - hear heavy breathing, loud grunting, and "unnnhhh... oooooohhh... haaaaaa..." sounds that made us all wonder what was going on in the annoying people's office. And whether they were using appropriate protection. Or, rather, it didn't make us wonder, but it did make the clients we were speaking to on the phone or, worse, in the conference room.

And it came to pass that, well, people kind of started getting used to it. Except for those of us who don't get to wear headphones, so we were forced to hear all of this when it was going on.

Then, one day - we'll call it yesterday - one of the annoying people was walking past my desk complaining to someone else that he had hit himself in the face. He was, in fact, bleeding in his mouth from the impact of cheek against teeth. I honestly figured it had something to do with a coffee cup or something, until one of my co-workers said to me "Guess what annoying person just did to hurt himself?"

I pondered with all of my pondering might, and came up with the funniest thing I could think of. "He hit himself in the face with the pull-up bar," I said, taking a drink of water.

"Yep."

I almost spit the water across the room. Annoying guy had, in fact, been hit in the face when the pull-up bar made for doors of normal depth and width came undone from the very non-normal door frame.

Annoying guy then spent the rest of the day complaining to everyone around (whether they would listen or not) that he had hurt himself on the pull-up bar. Saying that he was lightheaded and might need to go home. And vowing that he would NEVER use that blasted thing again unless it was bolted to the wall, so don't even think of asking him.

I know it's wrong to laugh at his pain. But, after hearing annoying guy badgering everyone in the office to try the pull-up bar - and having been one of those people simply unable to do pull-ups in high school - I do think that the Karmic circle is just too good to pass up.

I promise to stop laughing about it.

Soon.

Mayhap tomorrow.

Or possibly the next day...

In a Flash

Did you know that there is a version of migraine headache which doesn't actually include the headache part? Actually, there are a few different versions, and they cause havoc with things like your sense of smell and your sense of sight. (Isn't the brain just wacky?)

How do I know this? Because I get those last two versions from time to time.

The smell one is a little annoying, but not awful. I mean, just because something doesn't smell quite right doesn't mean that it will throw off your day.

But the one where your sight gets messed up. That one's not fun. And it tends to show up at all the worst times. Like when you're driving down the road and suddenly you've got flashing patterns in your eyesight - frequently just where the rearview mirror should be.

Or, like earlier today, when I was trying to do some proofreading at work and couldn't see sections of my screen through the wordless marquis lights. At least, in that case, I wasn't on the road.

I'm lucky, though, because these don't involve the actual painful headache problems, and - at least so far - they're usually pretty short-lived.

I just wish they'd be gone in a flash.

Movie Monday - Just Go With It

No. The title of this post does not mean you just need to play along with what I'm writing. That's actually the name of the movie we went to last week: "Just Go With It."

It was kind of a toss-up movie. I'm not a big Adam Sandler fan. The person I was going with isn't a big Jennifer Aniston fan (although I am). But we both wanted a comedy last week Tuesday, and it was at a good time for us to get to it.

So... plot... Umm... Well... there's this guy in Los Angeles who meets women by pretending he's married. And that works really well (insert comments about our society's morality), until he meets someone who really likes him who actually doesn't want to be "the other woman." So he makes up a shrew whom he is divorcing, and explains away the ring.

Which would be a really short movie. Except that the woman wants to get his soon-to-be ex-wife's permission before dating him. So he talks his office manager person into playing his wife. And, eventually, hilarity ensues when they - through the miracles of a convoluted plot - end up in Hawaii with her two kids, his best friend, and - of course - her college rival.

What I really need to point out, though, is that some hilarity actually did ensue. I mean... if you could see through the potty humor, it got pretty funny. And it also got a little sweet.

I know I've panned some movies because they tried to be more than one thing. The comedies that wanted to be romantic. The action movies that wanted to be funny. But, honestly, when we got to the end of the movie, I was okay with the funny and with the sweet. Kind of like one of those Lemonhead candies with the sugar on the outside but the tartness on the inside. Or, well, not really like that, but sort of.

Overall grade: B. And, you know, some movies really just are Bs. Not that they're bad. They're just never going to be good.

Pregnant Pause

Let me start by confirming that we are not - I repeat NOT - pregnant.

But some friends of ours are. And we got to see them today, even though the doctor has apparently told them that their family could grow any day now.

It's kind of exciting when people you know are going to be incredible parents are about to have a kid.

Strange and scary, but exciting, too.

And, wow... Very glad it's not us.

That Whole "Fiscally Responsible" Thing

Lately I've started back down the road to financial solvency, fiscal responsibility, and frank talks about money and savings and all that stuff.

It's kind of strange for me to have to pay so much attention to it. You see I've always been a "grown-up" in my life. While other people were partying through their teens and twenties (and thirties and...), I was usually the responsible one who was acting as designated driver. Okay, yes, Christopher has always insisted that there's a five-year-old in me trying to get out, but for the most part I'm the grown-up.

Which makes the fact that my finances have always been slightly out of whack that much harder for me to admit to. So I've watched my spending, and tried to keep things in line. But I've worked in the Non-Profit Arts, and I was unemployed for over a year (followed by more time of underemployment), and my savings went away and my credit card bills went up, and I've had to start re-analyzing my money.

So, at Christopher's recommendation, I started meeting with a Financial Advisor a few months ago. I was worried that it was going to be like going to the dentist and being nagged for not flossing - or going to the doctor and being reminded that you shouldn't eat carbs - but the advisor Christopher recommended is really cool. She's about my age (probably closer to Christopher's), and didn't even flinch when I told her I didn't have any idea the answers to some of her questions. She just kind of nodded and chatted, and said she could work with what I had.

And, just three months into the new year, I'm already starting to see a difference. It has felt a bit like going on a diet. Not a starvation diet, but just a trim-down diet. For instance, I talked myself out of buying Easter candy at the grocery store today, but I still bought flowers (seen above). But I figure that's better than going into therapy for my winter blues, so it works out in my favor.

I've started watching more closely the times that I take my wallet out, and for what. I've already gotten pretty good at not spending money (unemployment followed by low pay will do that to a person), but now I've started trying to spend my money in a more conscientious way. I'm looking at a monthly budget, and thinking of what I'm spending and what each purchase means to my bottom line.

And, you know what? It's kind of strangely exciting. (Oh, and if you live in the Twin Cities and want to know who my advisor is, let me know.)

Happy St. David's Day!

I realize it's almost over (or way past over, depending on when you're seeing this), but March 1st is/was St. David's Day.

In case you're not sure who that is, St. David is the patron saint of Wales. No, not of whales, but of Wales. (Anyone know who the patron saint of whales is?)

If you're feeling even more confused, now, Wales is one of the countries that make up Great Britain. In other words, like Ireland has St. Patrick, Wales has St. David.

Appropriate things to do on St. David's Day:

1) Speak Welsh. Start with "Dydd Dewi Sant Hapus" which means "Happy Saint David's Day!" (and... umm... no. I don't have any idea how it's pronounced.)

2) Buy some leeks. You know, those oniony things with the wide green leaves. Wear them on your lapel. Or your hat. Or, well, maybe just eat them.

3) If leeks aren't really your style, buy some daffodils. Prettier on the lapel. Bouncier on your hat. Nicer in a vase. Not -- I'm guessing here -- as tasty in soup.

4) Sport some red, white, and green. Just don't go to an Italian restaurant, because you'll have to keep explaining to people that you're not celebrating their flag.

5) Fly the Welsh flag, and watch the dragon flap in the wind. Don't know what the Welsh flag looks like? It's this:

(cool, hunh?)

Happy Saint David's Day, y'all!