The tales of two pernicious pugs and their doormat.
Wednesday, February 27, 2008
Monday, February 25, 2008
Monday, February 18, 2008
I don't want to write about what I think is wrong with him and me, and us because 1) I don't want to tarnish the good memories, 2) I don't want to emphasize the flaws, and seem like a vindictive ex, 3) in the case that he reads this, I don't want to hurt him. We've both been hurt enough, 4) if I absolutely have to vent, I have family and a therapist I can talk to, 5) there are people who might (although probably not) read this blog that know both of us personally, friends or co-workers, and it's really none of their business (unless we feel like talking to them face to face).
So this is the last you'll hear about the breakup. I want to move forward and forget the past, and embrace my ex as a great, and hopefully lifelong, friend. So here's to friendship.
Saturday, February 16, 2008
She got dropped off at the vet's around 8 AM, and I picked her up at 5 PM. I remember when Babs went through this, he was great. When they led him out of the back room, he was grinning and walking about as happy as can be. Celly, on the other hand, well, not so much. The nurse had to carry her to me, and I swear the poor pug looked just like a toddler who's had a horrible day. Her face was all crusty, her nose was full of dried up snot, and her eyes were wet with tears. She was so exhausted and terrified she didn't even cry (and believe me, Celly cries really loudly when she's scared). She just looked at me as if to say, "You are such a cruel mother. I will never forgive you for this. E-V-E-R." Poor little baby. Making me feel guilty for making sure she doesn't have to go through the whole "getting knocked up at a young age, unmarried, working her way through college with a baby on the hip" thing. Well, the pug equivalent anyway.
But anyway, just blogging to let you all know I'm doing much better. Maybe soon I'll do a post about the reasons for the breakup. I don't even know if you care, but I think I might feel better about putting it out on paper (or e-paper, whatever). So bear with me.
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
I am stuck on pug, 'cause pug's stuck on me.
How do you eat your pug?
Half the pug, all the taste.
Snap into a slim pug.
I was a pug weakling.
Do The Pug (check it out!)
Pug, take me away.
I bet he drinks pug.
You'll wonder where the yellow went, when you brush your teeth with pug.
So easy, no wonder pug is #1.
Mamma mia, that's a spicy pug!
Pug tested, mother approved.
Out of the strong, came forth pug.
There ain't no party like a pug party.
A pug a day helps you work, rest, and play.
And my favorite....
A day without pug is like a day without sunshine.
Tee hee hee! So true.
Monday, February 11, 2008
Thursday, February 7, 2008
AndreAnna, over at Diary of a Modern Matriarch (a place I lurk at but almost never comment), had a really interesting post today about our goals and dreams. Things we want to do before we die. And I really enjoyed her post - so much, that I decided to follow her lead and do one myself. I really encourage you all to do one too - first off, because I'm nosy and I wanna know, and second, because, well, I really do think it's important to write these things down. It makes it more tangible. Makes you want to really sit down and plan when you'll be able to do it. So write, people! Write! Here's my Top 20 list (in no particular order). I'm sure there's more, but you don't want to read a Top 500 list, do you? I thought not.
1. Skydive, bungee-jump, and hang-glide (I put them all under the same number since they're rather similar in nature. And I need my extra spaces!)
2. Write down all the recipes my family has accumulated over the years, print it out in book form, and give it to the next generation. Our love of food and family shouldn't die with my sibling and cousins.
3. Sit down with my mother and father, and transcribe all the stories they remember of their childhood and youth. My parents really have amazing, sometimes tragic, stories to tell, and I don't want them to be lost when my parents die and I get too old to remember them.
4. Buy all the books I adored when I was a child, and keep them safe for when I have children, or if I don't, for my nephews or nieces. I want them to appreciate good literature and love to read, to listen to stories. Reading shaped my life so strongly that I want to pass it on.
5. Visit every continent in the world, and as many countries as I possibly can (except Antarctica. Antarctica can kiss my ass).
6. Learn Portuguese.
7. Spend substantial time in Brazil.
8. Write a book about my experiences as a child, and as an adult. There are already so many things I don't remember, and it is important to me to have a record, somewhere.
9. Buy a large, LARGE bathtub and take a bath whenever I want to. Baths rock.
10. Have fresh asparagus in my fridge at all times.
11. Be as environmentally friendly as possible. Install solar panels on my roof. Buy a hybrid. Shop at the local co-op. Whatever I can do within my means.
12. Take care of a baby. My mothering instinct won't shut up until I've held a baby, changed it's diaper, fed it, bathed it. Hopefully it'll be my baby. If not, my cousin's might find their kids missing one day.
13. Eat something sweet and naughty every day. Just a little bite of chocolate or cheesecake.
14. Find a job I love. Not a job I like. A job I L-O-V-E.
15. Learn to truly be happy by myself. Learn to not let others hurt me, or bother me, or annoy me.
16. Try to really live my life by the rule: "Do to others like you would want them to do to you." And not get upset when they sometimes act like assholes.
17. Love my partner and children.
18. Learn how to sew.
19. Be as debt-free as humanly possible. And learn to save.
20. It's harder than it sounds (for me, anyway), but learn to say "I love you" to the people I really love.