Episode Nineteen : IM DEMANDING ANSWERS

Holy Cray!!!!!  Actually, that’s not strong enough *&^%$^&(!@# !  How did this happen to me?  Why me?  Was I a bad person?  Did I not tip enough at Starbucks??  Did splat a really icky, but holy, bug on the highway??  WHYYY I ask?!

You see, this morning, I got up and began my morning bathroom routine, only to be face-t-face with a single WHITE HAIR.  It as about an inch long.  It was a snotty sassy little bugger too.  When I tried to pull it, it took the shape of two long brown hairs.  I had to use to assistance of the tweezers to find that lil guy to yank him from my scalp.  Yup, NO denying it, it was a silvery white hair. 

How did that happen?  I am not prepared for this.  I wont be 30 for 4 and a half more months.  I don’t have kids (besides Cooper, and the occasional Husband outburst), I just started my stressful job.  Is this what’s in store for me?  And this quickly?? 

Okay Okay, I know I am suppose to be grateful to have lasted this long without getting one, but I was happy!!  When my Bestie spotted a couple silvery friends a few years ago, it was due to a really stressful job.  In fact, the last few times I’ve seen her, I’ve spied her hair, and its all dark (she doesn’t dye it), no silvery speckle at all.  I’m so scared.  You see, my Mom when white at 25.  Granted, she had two kids, and she was divorced by then, so I should consider myself lucky.  But here’s my fear.  My Mom had always (in denial) rocked the skunk.  She tried to keep up with they dyes, but she’s lazy (oh god, so am I, do you see my fears clearly now?) and she never dyes the landing strip (not that one, gosh, stay with me) with enough time.  I don’t want to become that person.  And I’m not the kinda girl who can go silver and be confident in it.  My Mother-in-Law has silvery hair and still looks young and beautiful, but I have a completely different face structure.  I need long dark hair to keep that ‘you look like your 17’ image or else, I’ll get the ‘wow, you’re only 30?!’ comment.  And then, be afraid. 

Oh gosh, what do I do?  I’m too lazy to keep up with dying.  Do white hairs turn blonde before silver?  Because, I do have a bunch of blonde hairs sprouting up that weren’t there before.  THEY HAVE COLOR though!  Definitely BLONDE.  How does a white hair just appear??  I mean, I am to the age when I do examine my follicles searching for that icky color.  Why did I JUST see it today?  Its like it had a spotlight on it, with a choir singing behind it, some gospel hymn (more mocking).

Have I mentioned, I have yet to train the Husband to pretend to examine the hair before instantly replying 'Its Blonde Baby.'  Thats going to take a lot of training to get him to sound believable.  I should have started a year ago.  Terrible Terrible Terrible.  

Anyway, I need to go get ready for work to stop myself from bursting into tears.  I suppose Ill need to get up earlier from now on to pack on more wrinkle cream and makeup to hide the inevitable age spots.  This is so not fair.  I tip very well.  I try not to swear at stupid Masshole drivers.  I (usually) pick up Goops poops on our walks.  WHY ME??

Tail Wagging Tuesday : I love napping with my Gooie

Crap, I forgot its Tuesday!!  I have to enter Goopie into the Tail-Wagging-Tuesday Blog-o-sphere!!  

First, heres the info from Miss C Mae's blog.  Check out her blog, its not only super cute, but she has a link-up where everyone can link to their own Tail Wagging Pups

Before you comment, YES, we do let Goopie sleep with us.  I know, I know.  Its BAD.  It actually ruins our sleep.  The only place he (and I) will comfortably sleep is with me on my side with my knees bend, and him behind my knee-nook.  Its our thing.  It was never the intention to let Goops sleep with us, but I insisted that I couldn't sleep without him the first week that we brought him home.  He was so polite and slept by our feet, but as the months went by, he inched his way up between us.  He gets really mad when the Husband and I try to sleep next to each other (hence, his middle name being Oedipus).  Now, the Husband has turned into a softy and insists that Goops needs to sleep with us because of the pack mentality-he needs to feel like he's apart of the pack.  Ok, that works.  One little cry in the middle of the night and Goops is up on the bed in his 'nook'.

Goopie and Momma napping in the cloud.  

Tail Wagging Tuesday

I love my dog, can you tell?  Hes like my child, so as soon as he was adopted, I started frosting him with gems.  He deserves them. 

check out the grill

OK, so he doesn’t have bling, but only because he cant even keep his leash out of his mouth, so why would I EVER put diamonds near him.  Instead he’s bling’d out with his Doggy Tags.  Four to be exact.  His nametag, American Kennel Association tag, Rabbies Vacc Tag, and his official license for the city of Belmont (I keep telling him this doesn’t mean that he can drive in Belmont. 

This becomes very clingy, so I tend to take his collar off him when in the house.  Otherwise hes jingle jangling around while tap dancing on the hardwoods. 

OH YEAH! On Halloween, when he was Super Goopie, he not only had a cape, but he also had wrist guards.  The were soon lost in the leaves…but they held magical powers for about 10 minutes.  Heres the only pic I could get.

Episode Seventeen : When disaster strikes, mid-blog

Hey All. So, I took a couple days off because, lets face it, I needed a few lazy days to prepare for my upcoming J-O-B.  My dream career starts tomorrow!  I’m so excited, and nervous to start……..

HOLY CRAP!!!!!!  You will not believe what just happened!  I am sitting in bed and just looked down at the floor, only to find see my beloved Goopie mid-squat.  IN slow motion, I yell Goopie NNNOOOOO……  as a bunch of gooey brown poo comes spewing out of his bum.  Yes, Spewing.  I calmly tried not to scream as I didn't want to scare him under the bed to finish his business.  By the time I get the laptop and blankets off me, the Husband has come in from the office to see what’s going on.  Oh man, that’s diarrhea.  Thanks, like I needed it to be identified.

We have a kinda ‘smelt-it-dealt it’ way of selecting who cleans up the dog poo.  He who sees/smells it first has to clean it.  Crap!  Why does the dog always have to poo in the privacy of my personal bubble?  He wouldn’t dare do it in front of the Husband.  This leaves me cleaning a lot of poo.  But this time, it was particularly gross and gooey.  Yes, Gooey.  It smelled like last nights Pork Chops.  If you remember, I don’t eat meat.  Someone else fed the dog off their plate, and I was stuck with cleaning it up.  SO NOT COOL!  The husband, of course, insists it smells like salad.  Like the dog would go near anything green.    

That’s it!  When we’re old and senile, I’m not cleaning the husbands poo stained butt when he’s too old to clean it himself.  IN FACT, I’m older that him, so chances are, I’m going to reach that milestone in life before him, so I’m going to take advantage as much as possible just to make up for moments like these.  UGH! 

OH MY GOSH!  To make matters worse, as I was sanitizing the floor, Goop jumped on the bed and curled up on my pillow.  WHY, I ask you, does he love ME so much?  I feel bad.  He’s obviously sick, but AHH, it smells in my bedroom and I just had to clean up really icky POO!  Good thing I don’t have kids!  I have a lot of practice to do before that comes around.  I cant exactly lock the kids in their club house for the night because they poo’d my pillow. 

AHHHH!  OK, no more blogging today.  I have to go clean and sanitize.  Ugh!  By the way, you are all welcome for me not sharing pictures today.

Just a reminder, tomorrow is Tuesday.  And incase you haven’t seen her blog yet; Live what you Love does a Tuesday blog about your Tail Wagging Friends.  Tomorrow’s topic is bling bling.   Stop by her blog to see her doggies bling, then back to mine to see the Poopers Coopers Bling. 

What I'm Loving Wednesday : Home Edition

I hope I linked this correctly..

I know I already posted today, but as soon as I hit publish, I remembered it was Wednesday!  I get to jump on the bandwagon and play Positive Shelley for a brief moment.

I hate doing laundry.  The first person to make this a fun chore gets a gold star in my book, but until then, I’ll just have to find joy wherever I get it.  These are our new washer and dryer.  It was a very adult purchase that wasn’t very fun, but necessary.  But the best part, they PLAYS MUSIC when they start and finishes, and the musical tune is very bubbly and upbeat.  It makes me giggle every time I hear it-which is much better than the dread of past machines. 

This is my Desktop.  Same as yours?  Well, this is an accomplishment for me.  For years, regardless of the computer, I’ve always had a trillion (yes, a trillion) icons and files and documents all over the place.  It was impossible to find anything, so I was constantly recreating everything.  Now, all I have on here is

• A file for the here bloggy Blog
• A file for my resume/writing samples
• Two unfinished blogs that you might be seeing in the future
• A background picture of the Boston Public Library’s ceiling (pretty impressive, huh?)

Everything else is neatly tucked away out of sight.  (Yes, I hide things in closets when company comes over, what’s it to you?)

I LOVE MEN!!  I know I know, obvious, right?!  But that’s not where I’m going with this, I’m married, remember?  So, I love that every time I interview with a man in the past, I have been offered the job.  I’m hoping today follows this course because I had a kickass interview with THREE men today for a job that I would be exceptionally good at.  I went into the interview with the idea that if I don’t get the job, I can just go back to school to get my Masters (I’ve been weighing both options heavily for the last few months trying to decide which would be better for me).  Anyway, I think I have this job in the bag, but keep your fingers crossed for me. 

I love my dishes/tableware.  Granted, red and teal/blue/turquoise/aqua-ish don’t really go together, but, shut up!  They do!  I put together the place setting to show you, my lovely blog followers.  And since we NEVER sit at the dining table, it becomes home to coopers siblings our plants.  This is Planty, he was our first plant.  He doesn’t require as much attention as Whitey, Big Butt and Cooper.  He inspired our bamboo appearance here (um, we have bamboo utensils).  It kinda looks like Planty’s about to get his wine on. 

 It’s a very Seattley day outside, damp, cold and rainy.  So, I’m staying inside, stupidly in the coldest room of the house, what am I thinking?!   Anyway, I’m thinking of making something delicious…  Chocolate Chip Cookies.  And since, no matter how precisely I follow the directions for my Moms homemade cookie recipe, I cant get it right, so I’m sticking to the deliciously easy Betty Crocker Cookies.  Yumm. 

Episode Thirteen : A Place of My Own..

Is it sad that I don’t have a place in my own home where I feel cozy and comfy in?  Don’t get me wrong, I love my house, I mean, I have the bedroom with an obnoxiously comfortable bed, and we have an office, but its full of the Husbands school/work/research stuff.  Sometimes I just want a little place to curl up and read or write, somewhere that’s mine, where I can concentrate and be creative.  I want to find my stuff in the inexcusable place that I left it.  I want to put a cute framed pictures of the Dog and my girls, or a cute note that my husband left me (if he ever did that kinda thing) where I can see them and draw inspiration from. 

Today, I sat in our home office to send off a few emails then to work on this blog but I couldn’t find peace or inspiration.  I had to continually push Goopie off of me because the Husband doesn’t mind when he jumps in his lap while he’s on the computer, or I was distracted by the big shiny monitor that dwarfs my tiny laptop on the huge desk, begging me to check facebook one more time.  Our office is nice and all, but I have the luxury of having a laptop, so I guess I can go into any room-but this just keeps me from having my own space.  I know once your married, everything belongs to both partners, but the office, it’s really his.  Sure my books bump elbows with his, and I have a small filing cabinet in the corner with my craft and jewelry supplies, but if I want to actually MAKE something, I have to put it away for him to use his office when he’s home or do it on the dining room table.  I continue to say his office because we only decided on a two-bedroom place so he could have a place to study and work-the room has its purpose.  Who knew I would want an office too?  Too bad we cant be like Carrie and Big (satc2) and have a bonus apartment, or even people who have four plus bedrooms.  But in this city, we're lucky to get a two bedroom for under two-grand a month.  

Thinking a lot about this while I sat at Starbucks, I mentally (then virtually) designed my own office.  Heres what I’m dreaming of for my next house… 

So, I ask you, where do you go to work, read, study, create and write?  What tiny nook of your house is yours?  And how do you stake your claim?  How do you mark your territory? 

Real House Dog of Belmont

Hi.  My name is Cooper Oedipus Quincy Trudeau, but you can call me Goopie, everyone else does.  I’m writing my Mommas blog today because she’s busy getting all prettified for her interview tomorrow.  I told her she should wear flats with her suit because the sound of the heels scares me, and it might scare potential employers too.  She listens to me, cuz I know that kinda stuff.  I’ve been on lots of interviews. 

Today, I’m home spending time with my Momma.  She’s the best.  She feeds me and poops me.  We take naps together and play on the Wii fit.  She has a new idea in her head that I am a reincarnation of Michael Jackson, because I was born on the day he died.  It may or may not be true, but I cant let her know that.  I’m not a foofy foofy dog, if you know what I mean.  I may like to wear my sweaters and bow ties and collared shirts, and I may really enjoy getting a pedicure every now and then, but I’m a boy!  100% boy!  That’s what my Dad says.  Momma said I was getting too exited when Gramp and uncle Geo came over, so they had to cut off my balls.  I cant remember them.  I think they were green and fuzzy like my ball.

I have a ball.  Its green.  I had some others, but I hid them and forgot where I put them.  Now I just have that one.  I think my Dad put it up where I couldn’t get it though.  I have other toys that are made for big dogs, but I chewed them up, so I cant play with them for that long.  I have a Cape too!  It has a G on it for Super Goopie.  It attaches to my blue sweater.  I had arm cuffs too, but I lost them in the park on Halloween.  I have my very own club house in the office.  Its my safe zone, so when I’m in trouble, I go in there and I cant get spanked or yelled at.  I have an office in the club house where I skype with my friends. 

Oh and I have a bone.  Its purple.  Sometimes my Momma puts cookies in it with some Puppy Pepperoni between them.  Oh boy do I love that.  Its really heavy, but I’m a strong dog cuz I wrestle with my Dad. I can pick anything up.  Oh, and all those big dogs like me.  I’m top dog in the big dog world.  Size doesn’t matter, its all about confidence, and Boy do I have that.  I’m tough and I’m cute.  When I was a baby, I use to think ‘OOHMIGAAAWDHESSOCUUUUTE’ was my name because everyone would say that to me.  Then Momma told me my name was Cooper.  I was named after some old guy on some show about mad men.  My middle name Oedipus is apparently because I an in love and obsessed with my Momma.  Quincy is the city we lived in in Mass, and like President John Quincy Adams (he lived a mile away) I was given the town name as my second middle name. 

I like to run in circles around the house really really fast.  And I like to howl, cuz I have a bit of beagle in me.  Momma says I’m a puggle, half beagle half pug, and I was born at a farm in Missouri, but I don’t believe it.  I kinda remember going to Europe and sailing with Ricardo (he goes by Ricky Martin now) and fighting Pirates in the Somali oceans.  Then I was kidnapped and shipped to Missouri.  When I was in Europe I consulted with a whole bunch of important people.  They talked to me because I’m a dog and they thought I was trustworthy.  That was the first time I thought of Pupinomics ®.  I cant really tell you anymore because I’m in the middle of writing my manuscript and my publishers have a problem with me telling my friends the premise of the book before its released.  You should look for it on Amazon soon.  It should be released in September.  Don’t worry if you forget.  It will be on the NYTimes best seller list and will be all over the place.  I’m in talks with Paramount to make a movie about it, but I’m holding out on having James Franco play me.  He said he was interested,  but so were a few others.  Ill keep you updated on how it goes. 

Ok, its dinner time.  Have a great day all. 

Episode Eight : Spring? Is that you???

Hello Spring!

Its finally Spring in Boston.  Its time to shop for flip flops, Redsox (and/or insert your fav baseball team here.  Go Mariners!!) Tee’s and pump up the Wii Zumba routines a bit for those summer clothes just around the corner.  However, the warm weather hasn’t quite caught up with the sun shining outside, so I’ve been stuck in the house seeing water streaks on the windows as I gaze longingly outside.  What better to do that start that Spring Cleaning?!  Now, I’m a housewife with nothing better to do than cleaning (while watching Reality TV), so my house is not dirty, but it can use an extra deep scrub.  In fact, when the Husband came in, he didn’t comment on a cleanliness which came from 6 hours of cleaning, but on why the house has an orange/lemon/lavender and bleach aroma.  I actually used 12 different cleaning products and 6 cleaning utensils.  PLUS, I pulled a Danny Tanner, and cleaned the cleaning products as I put them away.

Since being on vacation, my new baby, Whitey, has shot up about 6 inches IN-A-WEEK!!  I am such a proud plant Momma-I mean, its been two weeks (one of which I was on vacation) and I haven’t killed him yet. 

As to not play favorites, here’s a picture of Big Butt.  He’s doing a good job of encouraging Whitey to grow tall like him.

Why did I name him Big Butt you ask?  Well, where the base of the trunk meets the dirt, it looks like two big butt cheeks.  We named him before we planted him, then when you water him, bubbles come up from between the “cheeks.”  No Lie, it looks like Big Butt farted in a bathtub.  He earned his name!!

OK, time to go back to scrubbing the oven door.  Don’t be too jealous, its not as fun as it sounds.  In fact, the only one having fun in this household today is the Dog, who is currently practicing his sun bathing..

Episode Four : Who doesn't love a Bubble Bath

I'm really busy preparing for my secret, that I don't have time to write out a whole blog (ok, I dont have time to reread everything 30 times to make sure I spelled everything correctly, because I always miss at least one word).

Anyway, I've had a crummy day, argued with Sprint for an HOUR (I was hung up on twice!!), spent another hour on the phone trying to get some payment issues cleared up, and am basically running around the house preparing for the next few days.  You see, tomorrow, the Husband leaves for DC to go save the world (or the Arab League at least), so we're dropping off the Doggy at his Auntie Sarah and Uncle Sean's house for the rest of the week.  Finding, cleaning and collecting all of the dogs necessities took up the whole morning.  But I figured I would share the best part of my day with all of my (three) followers.

I know what you're thinking.  'Uhh, the title of this blog is 'Who doesn't love a Bubble Bath', she's not going to share HER bubble bath with us is she?!'  But don't leave quite yet... this is quality time that I wouldn't give up for anything.  Its time I want to share with YOU...  Enjoy..

Happy Tuesday Everyone!!

Not even an Episode

Everyone seems to have a bucket list these days.  Did the term ‘Bucket List’ exist before the movie, or did people just keep their life lists hidden in a journal until the movie came out, and ultimately decided to publicize them in hopes that some aimless millionaire would come along and want to take you on an adventure to fulfill your dreams?  I cant imagine that the luke-warm movie actually inspired a term.   I mean, It had a decent cast and a semi-interesting story line, and ok, It made me cry a tiny bit, but its not as if it was worth of creating a blog phenomenon-it wasn’t Mean Girls, you werent just Notebooked..  Where did the idea come from?  Did people have a Bucket List 100 years ago?

Creating a bucket list for your blog seems a bit narcissistic to me.  But then, I suppose so does keeping a blog… and twitter… and facebook.  OK then, here it goes… 

Before I die, I would like to….

Go Sky Diving.  Obligatory bucket list item

Go on a Mediterranean Cruise-Be able to afford a Mediterranean Cruise..

Have a lengthy discussion on how great Reality TV is with a Harvard Professor.

Be quoted as an "expert" in a trade magazine -Any trade magazine works. Please?!  I can be an expert…

Teach the dog to not pee on the floor –Pleeeease!!

Live in another country. OK, live in a COOL other country, I have no desire to go to Haiti.

Cook a meal to replace Husbands “Best Meal Ever” that he had in Italy.

Travel on the NYC Subway system without looking at a map.

Meet Gwen Stefani.  Please!!

Become BFFs with Gwen Stefani. 

Spend a week at the Louvre.  Not the gift shop across the street.

Have a photograph published. 

Become a Wine Connoisseur. OK, who determines this, because I already consider myself one?

Ill leave you with pictures depicting the steady climb into Spring.  Here are two pictures of the same lake in Cape Cod-three months apart.  Both, arguably are hovering around 30 degrees (Brrrr).  It was really sunny today, which you can’t tell from my crappy Blackberry picture.  

And a picture of my baby...

...because, why not?

Episode Two : Quality Time

As to not just work on setting up the blog with no content, I am going to do what I just said I need to be held accountable in doing – I am about to produce a blog posting.

I am sitting in a very cold library at the husband’s school while he works on saving the world through economics.  This is our way of spending quality time together.  Unconventional, yes, but it’s the only way that I get to see him with his busy schedule.  Plus, as I sit here with only my laptop, I am forced to put out a blog rather than flipping channels or shoving the dog off of me for the hundredth time today.  

Have I introduced you to my doggy, Cooper?  We call him Goopie.  He’s a one-and-a-half year old Puggle who I bet could take on a toddler in an energy race.  If I didn’t live across the country from my only friend with a toddler, I would put this assumption into effect.  Lately, my life if revolving around the damn (I love him so) dog.  He’s incredibly demanding and half the time I would get rid of him if his new found insistance of his wasn’t my own fault.  I baby him.  I spoil him.  And I do everything a loving and caring (dog) parent shouldn’t do – I bribe him with whatever I can to get my way for two-minutes, and if that doesn’t work, I throw him in his cage.

So, here we go, short and sweet, a description of my life.  Working with the husband, avoiding the dog and building a blog.  Did I mention that I’m greatly considering going back to school in the fall.  I’m looking into all of the colleges in Boston to get another Bachelors or a Masters in…. something.  I suppose I need to decide what I want to do with my life before I prepare to spend thousands of dollars, again.

Housewife Duties : Last week I planted a few plants for around the house-Housewives do that, right?  A Rose Bush (although the snow this week may have killed it), replanted my Ikea Bamboo sticks (Name : Planty) and repotted my small palmy-looking tree (Name : Big-Butt) in a larger pot.  

Here’s my latest-It’s a Paperwhite, which is apparently the easiest plant to grow and hardest to kill.  Perhaps I should mention that when my Dad tried to teach me how to drive his stick shift Jeep, he insisted that no one could kill this Jeep-and I did.  My track record for ‘you cant kill this’ isn’t that great.  Well see how it goes.  I think Ill name this plant Whitey.