Back!

Well, I know I haven't blogged in a bit. Thanksgiving was nice - we took the pugger children up to a friend's, who happens to have two wiener dogs (Kudo and Bozo) and one sheepdog (Kayla). The wiener dogs are grumpy old little bastards, who hate all dogs. But the sheepdog is still young, and freakin' LOVES "herding" - I say "herding" because she has the instinct, but no idea how to really DO it. Babs spent a blissful two weeks with Kayla earlier this year, and they became best buds. This was the first time she met Celeste, and let me tell you - despite being a puppy, Celly is quite the character. After a short introduction, Celeste decided she was the Master of the Universe, and began chasing Kayla, Babs, and the wiener dogs. Then she jumped on top of them and chewed on their ears. And when they decided to go get a drink of water, she bawled and screamed until they came back. Bossy little kid.

So that was my Thanksgiving. Then I came home and worked on stuff and vegged out on the couch re-watching The Incredibles and The Iron Giant (both awesome movies).

But that's really not the best news of the past week - the BEST news is that I've finally gone and found a great tattoo artist, given him my idea for a tattoo, waited for him to draw it up, and scheduled a date for the tattoo (Dec the 9th). This really has happened over the course of two months (he was booked until early Nov) - but we talked early in Nov, and he drew up the tattoo on Monday. I've been reading BME (Body Modification Ezine) for MONTHS, reading stories of what to look for in good artists, what to expect, people's experiences, and it's really helped me a lot in my whole tattoo experience. I read a LOT of stories where the tattoo artist drew up the tattoo, and the client took one look at it and fell in love. Now, because people are so unique, I figured that this would probably not be the case in my situation, which is fine. My artist made it clear that he'd be more than happy to modify his drawing until I was satisfied with it. So when I went in Monday, I was ready to say, "Um, I want this changed, and this, and this....."

But guess what? He pulls out the sheet, I take one look, and go...... "OMG! It's.....perfect!" It was honestly the most gorgeous design I've ever seen. I couldn't even begin to think of any cons -all I could do was stare at it and go, "I want it on me NOW, NOW, NOW!"

Now, I chose something that a lot of girls get - flowers. But not just any flowers - I chose three different types of orchids, which will be lined up vertically on my back. When I picked out the orchids, I couldn't imagine how he'd be able to do them justice, and just from seeing a lot of flower tattoos online, I've noticed that most aren't really all that pretty and delicate. They're usually just a clump of basic colors, and that's not what I want. But now - NOW I know that my tattoo artist is really talented, and knows exactly what I want. So, yay! Yay! The only downside to this is that the tattoo is going to take about 3 hours to complete (in one sitting), and I'm going to blow quite a big wad of money on it. The 3 hours bothers me more than the money - I'm willing to pay as much as necessary to ensure that the tattoo is as perfect as possible (after all, it will be on my body forever). But I'm a HUGE wussy when it comes to pain, and I have a feeling I'll be in utter torture for those three hours - the tattoo is going to be directly over my spine, and I've heard the spine area is VERY painful. But, oh well. What can I do? I'm more than willing to endure 3 hours. So I will. And when it's done, I'll post pictures for you all to see.

Classic Sesame Street - I LUUVV Grover.

The Utterly Perfect Car! Watch until the end or die!

The Battle Of The Turn Signal

Okay, perhaps I should explain. A few months ago, a bridge collapsed (remember the 35W bridge in Minneapolis? Yep, that was it) - it was only a few blocks away from my school, and that's what everyone used to get home during rush hour. Unfortunately, once the bridge collapsed, that route was wiped out - and it's not as if you can rebuild a bridge of that size in a few days. So traffic was rerouted to the street right beside my school.

Now, my daily route to school uses that street - however, right when I get to the school, I have to perform a left turn to get to my parking ramp that's RIGHT THERE. Which means that every time I drive to school, I face BAZILLIONS of cars coming the opposite way. Normally, this would not faze me. After all, my stop light has a left turn light. Well, it did. Until the bridge collapsed. Then whoever controls traffic lights decided that, "Hey! Let's turn the left turning light off! I mean, no one ever uses it! We just put it there years ago because we felt like it! Whoo-hoo!" (note my sarcasm). So now I have BAZILLIONS of cars cutting me off from making that VERY IMPORTANT turn. And I wait. And wait. And wait. And wait. Every single day, I wait at least 3 stop light cycles, if not more, in the morning when I get to school. Then when I leave for dinner and come back around 5, I wait ANOTHER 3 stop light cycles. And let me tell you - having to do this EVERY SINGLE DAY for months has slowly been driving me B-A-N-A-N-A-S. There's a left turning light RIGHT THERE, installed, ready for use, but NO ONE TURNS IT ON. So finally I snapped last week and sent in a complaint to the city telling them that it is IMPOSSIBLE to make a left turn during rush hour traffic, and it is MOST frustrating.

They sent an email back saying that their investigation would take 5 days.

I thought, "Cool", and then went and played with my pugs.

Today I'm driving to school, and see car lights shining like little firefly butts waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaayyyyyyyyyyyy into the distance. Oh, crap, not again. So I get to my stop light, and get ready to wait a good 10 minutes before I can turn. Then, to my utter shock, I see a little green arrow pointing to the left. An arrow, people! AN ARROW! My turning light! It's there! So before the mirage disappears, I turned and parked in my ramp.

Then I got out, screamed, "I WIN, RUSH HOUR TRAFFIC!!!!! KISS MY ASS, SUCKERS!!!" and start into Barry Manilow's "It's A Miracle".... "a true blue spectacle, a miracle come true". Well, maybe I didn't say it out loud, but my MIND was screaming it. And that's all that matters.

Babar's Masseuse

My pugs are retarded.

Yes, they are retarded. I just don't understand them. Today I went to Target to get some stuff to clean the bathtub (God, don't you HATE it when you clean it and scrub and clean and spray and 2 days later, it's begun to get all grimy again? Bathtubs are evil, I tell ya.), and I passed the dog section and couldn't resist. So I bought them these rawhide things which they LOVE to carry around all day and chew on. Along with some puppy biscuits for Celeste (she had run out), and a toy called Tuff Tugs (two handles on opposite sides, tug of war... you get the idea).

So I get home, and I give one rawhide to Celeste and another one to Babar. Celeste's mouth isn't big enough YET to bite down on the rawhide, but she can nibble on it if she puts her paws on top to hold it down. Babar grabs his and runs away.

I turn around and start the put the groceries away, when I hear growling and barking. I turn, and see that Babar has abandoned the rawhide I gave him and is growling at Celeste, who's nibbling away at hers. I grab his, show it to him, put it near his mouth, and he latches onto it and runs away again.

I get back to the kitchen, but before long I hear a high-pitched yipping. That's definitely not Babar. I get back to the pugs and I see that Celeste has abandoned her rawhide and is yipping at Babar to get HIS. I grab her and show her HER rawhide, and she grumbles and goes away with it.

I go BACK to the kitchen, when soon enough, I hear growling. I go back and see Babar swipe Celeste's rawhide from her mouth, and then run and hide in their mutually-shared doghouse. I peek inside and see him staring at me, all grumbly-looking, as if to say, "WHAT?! It's MINE! All mine now. That bitch better not bother me again."

Geez! These pugs drive me insane. And as I write this, they've decided to both settle at my feet and eat their rawhides. And Celeste just tried to steal his. He nearly bit her nose off in defense. Ugh. It's just like me and my sister when we were 6. Blah.

TPing my house.... lovely....

Surprisingly, it isn't bratty high school kids that toilet papered my house THIS year - no, it was someone near and dear to me. I should probably set up the scenario for you all:

1. I'm in the kitchen, chilling with The Babs, checking some stuff out on my computer (specifically where to buy a frying pan with a frackin' cover. I can NEVER find a frying pan with a cover....).

(NOTE: You pug owners out there know what the Pugtona is. For those of you that don't, it's when your pug goes insane from happiness or ADD or something, and begins to run around in circles like Hell is trying to bite their tail.)

2. I have just installed a brand-new toilet paper roll in the OPEN bathroom.

3. You know where this is going, don't you?

4. Celeste is nowhere to be seen.

5. Suddenly I see this flash of black streaking across the kitchen floor with a trail of white behind it. It takes me a second to figure out that it's Celeste, and then another second to figure out that that lovely, perfectly white, perfectly cut white trail is my toilet paper roll. By this time, she's circled the kitchen table and headed back towards the bathroom.

6. Telling a crazed pug to stop and drop the TP doesn't work. She just looks at you with eyes that you could swear are turning around in circles. And keeps on running.

7. So yes. My house was TPed. Celeste performed the Pugtona for the first time ever. Hmm, well, at least I know she's a real pug.