I picked up MARLEY AND ME by John Grogan a few weeks ago. I haven't had time to read it until now, but I started it today. It's a beloved-dog story, and while I knew I'd love it, I also know I'm going to come to that point when the dog dies ahead of the humans who love it, and that's going to make me cry my heart out.

I can't think of much to write about, oddly enough.

Dan is desperately searching for the Nintendo Wii, which is being pronounced "wee". He's so desperate to have it, mostly, I think, because it's still so damn tough to get. I was hoping that once the holidays were over, he'd be able to find one right away, but so far, no. They're still not able to produce them quickly enough to meet the demand, and there was a recall on some part of it already, a strap or cord or something. Fucking electronics! The regular cost of this thing is $250, but coy stores are selling them as "bundles" for way more, including crappy games no one really wants, just so they make more money. I'd so love to be able to find a secret source to get one for him, then present it to him as a surprise. So far, no luck there. His so-called friend who works at Wal-Mart should have been able to get him one, but most of Dan's friends are all one-ways--they are happy to take, but not to give.

I'm stopping to exercise tonight, and to get gas, and to return the headphones I bought a few weeks ago at NWL--one of the speakers doesn't work, so they're useless. Bugsy and Snaps will have to wait a bit for Mommy to come home and let them out. But with John R leaving for California tomorrow on vacation, I'll be back working overtime some nights, so I don't know when I'll be back at the gym again.

We'll have to wait and see.

It got much colder. My hands were freezing this morning when I walked my poochies. I've decided I like balmy weather in January. I really do!

Love, Robin

"It's raining, it's pouring, the old man is snoring, bumped his head, went to bed and couldn't get up in the morning. . ."

We used to sing that song so blithely as kids, never realizing that the poor old man probably died in his sleep. How awful. How many songs do we sing without really paying attention to what they're saying? There was a lilting Green Day song my son and I liked, or I did until I realized it was trying to talk some kid out of suicide.
Don't get me wrong, I appreciated the concept, but the music was so different from the lyrics, it confused me.

I had a lot of salad this weekend (we went for the soup and salad combo lunch at Olive Garden Saturday), and thus, a lot of tootin'. Yesterday I was a freaking gas factory, farting over and over until I just wished I could get away from MYSELF! Phew! Dan came in and opened the window over the front door to let in some fresh air; he claimed it was that reeking in the living room. Brad said he couldn't smell anything, so I'm not sure which of them was telling the truth.

Speaking of truth, either hubby or son left poop all over (inside and out) the downstairs toilet, and neither of them would own up to being the culprit. Guess who got to do the clean-up? ME! So if I left some stench in the living room, too fucking bad. At least that dissipates. After I was finished, I wanted to toss the toilet brush into a toxic dump site, but since we still need it, I soaked it thoroughly in a strong solution of acid and borax. Not really, but believe me, it's been cleaned and disinefected to the max!

Bugsy and I had another ugly confrontation over the weekend. We were in the computer room and I was petting him. He abruptly turned on me in mid-pat, and before I could escape him, he bit me on the knee. The bite went right through my pants, leaving two bloody holes in my knee and a terrible bruise that would have been worse if I hadn't applied ice immediately to the area. I cried, hard. Here we are, giving our love to this dog--good food, water, tidbits, love, pets--and while I'm showing him affection, he attacks me? This isn't right! Maybe it's time to give him back and just give up?

Yet I just can't, and neither can Dan, who suggested that the next time Bugsy bites one of us, we respond by kicking him. No, I protested, violence from us will only lead to more violence from him--there has to be another way!

Later that night, it hit me--the smoke alarm! He's always been terrified of that sound! When it goes off, he immediately runs to the back door and wants to go out, to escape it. What if we could record it, play it any time Bugsy stalks Dan and/or Brad, bites one of us, tries to stop Dan from going out the front door?

Dan recorded the smoke alarm's sound on his cell phone, and all day yesterday, we played it whenever Bugsy misbehaved. It worked! He didn't bite any of us, so we couldn't test that out, but believe me, we will! It's negative reinforcement, but unlike kicking him, as Dan suggested, this is a better way to deal with his negative behavior. It's really the only thing that has worked so far, and if it breaks Bugsy of his terrible, destructive habits without actually having to strike him, I'm all for it--and so is Dan. Hey, sometimes this ol' gal comes up with great ideas, doesn't she? Because I love Bugsy and want to keep him--but I must need to have my head examined to figure out why!

As for this weekend, we went to the gym yesterday, after I missed three days of going in a row (yes, I'm pissed at myself for that). I had a great workout, though. Mike joined us for dinner at Corner Galley, where I had delectable, spicy mussels with linguini (I shared the pasta with the guys). Brad stayed home to watch the football playoffs (both NY teams blew it), so we stopped at Giovanni's and brought him home a slice of buffalo pizza.

We broke warm temperature records this weekend, hitting near 70 degrees on Saturday in some spots. Crazy! Supposedly, we're in an El Nino year and this is going to cause major problems for us in the summer, perhaps a hurricane so severe, it will end with Long Island under water. Talk about your waterfront property, hee hee! Why am I laughing? Am I crazy? I don't want to drown! And yet, it seems as if we're beating the odds every single summer, we're OVERDUE for THE BIG ONE, WAYYYY OVERDUE, IT'S JUST A MATTER OF TIME, and now, with this warmth enveloping us in January, like a stealthy lover with one hand massaging your sex and another encircling your throat, perhaps snuff time is only a few months away. . .

Speaking of gas, there's been a heavy smell of it in New York City today. No one knows what the source is as of now, but Mayor Bloomberg says it's not dangerous even though some areas have been evacuated just in case and they've stopped running some trains for the same reason. Of course, if anything explodes and anyone dies, the mayor will be biting his tongue, so perhaps he should just shut the hell up and not say there's no danger yet. I'm sure everyone in the city is thinking TERRORISTS AGAIN and shaking in their Manolos.

May all your gas come out of your ass.

Love, Robin

One thing leads to another. Nancy mentioned to a co-worker of ours that I've babysat for her dogs. Yesterday, I was offered a job watching Tetley, a new puppy belonging to Rosaria, a supervisor who works in my building out on the workroom floor. Years ago, Rosie walked to school with my best friend Sharon, which proves the theory about six degrees of separation.

This job would take place in early February, and while Rosie suggested I take Tetley to my house (Bugsy's lil' appetizer?) or sleep at hers, I prefer to visit her house twice daily instead. The question is, how much do I charge for a service like this? I have no idea. I should ask around to get an idea. Rosie knows Nancy pays me, but she has no idea how much (a lot).

I'm a bit nervous about this, given how young the dog is, and I understand Rosie adopted the dog before he should have been and didn't even know it; the owner lied about the dog's age. That can lead to problems. She's keeping the dog crated pretty much all the time, but if that will be the case in early February, when I'll be "sitting", I don't know. Rosie lives in Levittown, very close to where Sharon used to live, and not far from where I live now, so finding her house shouldn't take long. Rosei sure made her guest room sound enticing, though! Sometimes, getting away from home is like a mini-vacation.

Yesterday, Bugsy and Snaps were the recipients of biscuits Charlene's dog didn't like and two rubber squeak toys from Nancy, which MY dogs didn't like. So I'll be giving the squeakers to some other deserving pooches and I have no doubt that my two will gratefully gobble up what Charlene's dog refused. Everything is recyclable, right? Even us--dust to dust!

I'm working overtime tonight, here until 5 PM. It's raining, which sucks, but tomorrow the temps are supposed to reach 60! Winter, indeed! Hey, let this be the warmest winter EVER! We had NO SNOW in December, the first time since 1877. Didn't I say that once Dan and I bought a snowblower, we wouldn't see any snow? I meant it, folks!

Dan is bringing his Camry in for an oil change tomorrow morning. We'll go to breakfast and the gym. I didn't join Dan yesterday because I'd gone the night before. We got our wires crossed, for a change; I thought we were meeting Wednesday night, he thought Thursday. I showed up Wednesday, he didn't; last night I just didn't feel like going and he went alone. So now, because of OT, I haven't gone for two days straight, a no-no. Plus the rain today prevented me from walking. What I want to do is set up some sort of exercise I can do at home, nothing strenuous, just a few stretching exercises to keep me limber. Problem is, once I get home, this langour comes over me and makes it hard just to launch myself up and out of the damn chair. I had really hoped that once I started taking Synthroid, I would be peppy, happy and up-up-up!! Instead, I still feel tired, nap on weekends, and am langorous when I return home. Nothing has changed--except perhaps my TSH blood tests results.

It's sad that people are starting to take down their Christmas lights. It's weird--as depressing as the season often is, Dan and I feel sorry to see certain aspects of it end, like the beauty of the Christmas displays.

I have work to do, so I'll sign off now. Enjoy, my friends!

Love, Robin

After six days away from this place, I returned to find that Connie had done all my work and left me in great shape. I was so thrilled, I hugged her in thanks. It started me off in a terrific mood which hasn't worn off yet. Betty brought in these sumptuous chocolate pastries which have been calling to me all day! I didn't expect the pact Dan and I made about eating properly to be challenged so soon! I confess, I did eat one, but we're not having today's cheesecake until tomorrow, and that will be my entire lunch, and only one small piece, I swear!

Changes--how I hate them! We had a Transportations-only lunch today for John C, whose last day before retirement is today. I made a little speech about what a special person he is, and what a terrific co-worker. We all raised our Styrofoam cups to him with a "Here, here!", finished our Chinese food, laughed, chatted and took photos. We had John's "big" farewell party the other day; this one was just for us, his co-workers for the past many years. He's one of those people with an infectious sense of humor, who loves Elvis, rock 'n' roll and Corvettes, and we will all miss him dearly.

Yesterday, on Ford bereavement day, I awakened early to see Dan and Brad off to work, but it was not a day of leisure for me. I replaced the molding down in the basement that the second crappy "restoration" company neglected to do. I ran two loads of Brad's laundry; the second, too heavy, stopped the washer, so I had to go downstairs and remove a couple of heavy, soaking pieces to make it start up again. I ran to the stores twice to make sure we had turkey breast, fruit, 100 calorie packs, etc., etc. The store where Mace's used to be is now a dollar store, and I bought several items in there; you know how much I adore those places! I got big bag of dog food on sale in Target and a small one in Wal-Mart, for which I had a nice coupon (even though the bag was a rip-off even with the coup). I seem to recall using my credit card four times yesterday, which is the one drawback to my having time off--I love not going to work, but I also loooove spending money!

I took a nap about 4 PM. Actually, I've been napping nearly every day of my six-day vacation. I guess with my early rising, I'm just plain tired. I'm entitled to be sleepy, right? And just as entitled to sleep if I need it. I'm the one who's been browbeating myself over the naps, but it's mostly been because I don't want to sleep when I should be DOING THINGS. I must cut myself some slack over this issue!

I thought I was working OT today, but John R came in at his regular time, so it actually falls in better with meeting Dan after work to hit the gym. If I work until 5:00, I can just go straight there, but there's no one to let out the dogs, and it's just too long to make them wait. This way, I can go home in-between to give them a walk--and me a break before coming back!

Someone just remarked that saying goodbye to John C is like a death, because we probably won't ever see him again. True--but we'll know he's alive in Texas, not dead in a box. He might e-mail us, keep in touch, send pix of the grandkids. It's like a death in a sense, but not the sense where his body is cold and we know we can never, ever see him again except in our memories. I still remember the horrible feeling I had when the coffin was closed over my father's body and I knew that was IT, the END, and it left me feeling emptier and more bereft than anything I had ever known. THAT is death.

I don't want to leave you with that terrible image. Let me tell you a story about a dumb woman I met at the gym the other day. I was exiting my car when she came along, holding a one-year-old boy in her arms, the other, about four, trailing a ways behind her. "Don't dawdle," she said, and pointed to me, "or that lady is going to steal you."

I stared at her, horrified and really hurt. "Don't tell him that!" I said, and turned to her son. "I would never steal you!"

Seeing the vehemence and fury in my face and eyes, she said, "No, I didn't mean it that way. . ."

"I don't care how you meant it," I said, "I would never steal anyone's kid--why would you make him afraid of me that way?"

She didn't answer, but hustled her kids into her car and hastily left. I was bothered by the incident all day. I knew she was a stupid, unthinking woman who had only been trying to hurry her son along, but that reminded me of mothers who used to warn their kids, "Be good, or a policeman is going to get you and take you to jail!"

Hope your 2007 started out happily, intelligently and without assholes like that woman!

Love, Robin

What is it with people that they think they can pick their noses in their cars and somehow be rendered invisible?

The other day, I was driving home from work. Stopped at a light, I glanced into my rear-view mirror and spotted a guy with BOTH first and second fingers digging away inside his nostrils. That was bad enough. To my immense disgust, he removed them, inserted them into his mouth, and licked up his snot, popping each in and out with apparent enjoyment! I cannot tell you how my stomach roiled at the gross sight; I wanted to just hurl into my own lap.

I don't think I need linger any further on this topic, do I?

I have been off work since Thursday, and it has been so much fun, a whirlwind of shopping, going to the gym and napping!

Yesterday, Sharon took me out for my meal 'n' movie birthday present. I drove to Bellmore, her town (where Brad teaches). After hanging out at her house for a while to admire her newly finished basement (painted pretty baby blue with an enviable amount of storage, closets and tons of space, but no ceiling, leaving all the pipes sticking out) and front porch (painted eggplant, kinda odd), we went out for lunch (I had Greek salad, spinach pie, soup, coffee and apple pie filling), then to see NIGHT AT THE MUSEUM. I enjoyed the latter very much and of course, it's always great to see Sharon.

While we were supposed to have a full day together, when Dan called to say he was finally on his way home after a long day of doing inventory, I chose to go home to have dinner with him instead of having dinner at Sharon's house and going to see the Christmas lights at the former EAB Plaza. I think it was the insanity and noise of Craig playing with his friends, Sharon's yelling at Gabrielle or Tom's mumbling (I couldn't understand a word he said because of his Parkinson's, and it was never this difficult before), but I just yearned to return home where it was quieter. Dan and I had dinner at Sizzler, then went to J. C. Penney's to buy a belt to replace his falling-apart one. To his consternation (and my anger and disgust), his 38 size belt needed to be replaced by a 42! Dan refused to believe it until I held his old belt up against the size 42 and he saw they were the exact same length. Then he couldn't argue with me anymore.

Today, we both weighed in on our scale and made a promise to each other to work harder to lose weight. Of course, while I ordered a vegetable sandwich at TGIFriday's, he ordered brisket, mashed potatoes, onion rings and corn on the cob. I guess it's going to take some weaning for Dan, who loves to eat. Hey, so do I, but I really want to lose weight and be healthy!

Connie left a message on my answering machine yesterday letting me know that I'm off Tuesday for Gerald Ford's day of mourning. Didn't I tell you we'd get one of those? I didn't think it would be this soon--or that it would be butted up against my current days off and turn my five day holiday into a six day holiday! Yeeeee hawwww! I love it! No disrespect intended to the man's family, of course.



Dan had to work half a day today, so I went to the gym, then to Target to see if I could match some cheap prices with good coupons. Unfortunately, I couldn't, but it wasn't for lack of trying, believe me! Now we're taking it easy and got some computer time away from him. I bet he's fallen asleep on the sofa! Poor guy, he never gets enough sleep. I bought champagne for tomorrow night, although I can't guarantee *I* will be awake for midnight.

I hope Brad and Ali are enjoying themselves (no, we haven't heard from them yet). It's going to be the first time since he was born that I won't be able to wish him a happy new year, at least over the phone. I just MIGHT have to kill him when he gets home! Don't mothers have certain rights?

HAPPY NEW YEAR, MERRY BLOGSTERS! I LOVE YOU ALL! I hope you've enjoyed this peek into My Whackadoodle Life!

Robin