I forgot to mention that Dan, Mike and I went to see SUPERMAN RETURNS on Sunday, the matinee show. It was wonderful. This new guy, last name Routh, is really cute, far less campy than Chris Reeve's Superman, but the entire movie is far more serious than the 70's version was. So was Lois Lane. I remember Margot Kidder as being kinda nutty, actually, and this gal was icy, collected and soooo very serious. I cried several times, something I don't remember doing during the Reeve movie version. Great flick!

One thing: Given that George Reeves from the 50's version either killed himself or was murdered because he was involved with a gangster's gal (a story Mike told us), and Chris Reeve ended up dead at 52 after becoming a quadriplegic at 42 following a fall from a horse, I'd be rather worried about my future if I were Mr. Routh. Then again, perhaps not being a Reeve or Reeves means THAT curse is broken. We can only hope!

Last night, July 4th, brought all the usual loud, popping, crackling, booming noises that had poor Bugsy trembling and magnificient, brilliant arcs of light filling the skies. It also brought an incredibly loud, thieving thunderstorm--it stole our electricity, the blighter! From 5-10 PM last night, we lost power, which meant I had my complaining husband on my hands: "I can't see my TWILIGHT ZONE marathon!" Never mind that he's seen all those episodes a hundred times each. "I can't make coffee!" "I can't go on the computer!" Other men might think of making out with their loving wives, or even (gasp!) having sex, but if my husband was considering those options, he wasn't inviting my participation. Instead, I ended up talking to my mother in law on the phone, trying to comfort the shuddering Bugsy, and gazing at the fireworks outside while trying not to be eaten alive by mosquitoes. Oh, and did I mention that the humidity was 1000% and my entire body was slathered in perspiration and made me feel as if I hadn't showered in a hundred years?

Yes, happy fucking 4th of July indeed!

Brad, who'd gone to a Mets game, arrived home about 9:30, stunned that we were still dark. We'd called him on his cell phone and warned him about the power outage, but he still came home, sure we'd have power by then. What really pissed me off about it all was that the neighbors behind us had electricity and the folks one block over had it, too! We were the only block, apparently, without! Go figure that one. I can't. Someone said they were working as slowly as possible, given that it was a holiday and they were making triple time. That sounds logical--and downright shitty. Our electric bills are totally ridiculous already!

Most of the weekend was excellent, so I really can't complain. Our power returned at 10 PM. I missed the TV fireworks, but saw live ones on the block. We were even awakened by one asshole who chose to shoot off fireworks at 3:30 PM! I threw open my window and yelled, "Hey, people are trying to sleep!" He stopped. Lucky for him. I probably would have gone down there, stuffed his remaining fireworks up his inconsiderate ass, lit 'em and sent him straight to the fucking moon.

Motherfucking asshole.

Hey, hope your 4th was explosively fun!

Love, Robin

I've been off this entire weekend, and let me tell ya--I love it! I enjoy not having to get up at 5 AM to go to work. I like having my days to myself, to go to the gym, run errands, barbecue, or just nap. I guess this means I'm hitting my dotage (at least the napping part does), but damn, having time to do with as you please is absolutely fantastic.

We had dinner out Saturday night at TGIFriday's (in Huntington Station) with Nancy and Chris, my post office pals who moved here from Buffalo. They don't like it here--it's too polluted, expensive and drivers here are just nuts. In Buffalo, you can give people the finger and they WON'T come after you or threaten to kill you. Imagine that? Chris kept saying he wants to live on a glacier, and after the horrific heat and humidity we've been having, I completely understand how he feels. On the other hand, I'm not a cold weather gal, either, so give me sun, low humidity and temps around 60-70. Even though Dan kind of monopolized the conversation, as he tends to do, I think everyone enjoyed themselves. Dan popped an allergy pill before we left home so he could safely enter Nancy and Chris' house and meet her dogs, Vivi and Sophie, and her three cats, the "kids" I'd babysat for back in March. Sophie adored Dan, who scratched her belly and paid a lot of loving attention to her. The cats, scared, stayed hidden. At the restaurant, Chris picked up the entire tab, plus tip, which somewhat mortified me. I wasn't expecting it, but they've been extremely generous to me ever since I stepped in to watch their animals when their babysitter crapped out at the last moment. Gifts, coffee cake almost daily--they're the sweetest people I've ever known, and of course, dying to get out of NY as quickly as they possibly can! The irony does not escape me, I assure you.

We had two coupons, one which gave us $8 off an appetizer (our contribution), and one that took the price of one dinner off if we all ordered from one special menu. The waiter assured us we could use both; after the meal, the manager came to the table and said we couldn't. I immediately jumped all over the guy: "We were told otherwise!!!" Realizing that he had a nut on his hands, he agreed to take both off--this time. I was mollified and triumphant, but I think I embarrassed Chris and Nancy, who, I didn't realize at the time, were planning to pay for our meals.

We left the restaurant, proceeded to Chris and Nancy's in their 30 year old big boat of a Caddy, said our goodbyes and hopped into our own car. Driving home, Dan and I witnessed one of Mother Nature's most spectacular light shows--lightning shot down from the sky in two, three and four-tined forks, a sight both scary and exhilarating. The music in the car prevented us from hearing the booms of thunder, but that lightning was awesome enough all by itself. It seemed that several of the deadly flashes hit the ground like missiles, and I wondered if they'd found any targets to destroy. It had begun to rain by the time we arrived home, and we ducked our heads as we ran into the house, not so much against the rain, but to make ourselves smaller in case lightning was searching for us.

Yesterday was an annual leave day for me, and I made the most of it. I went to town, mailed something for Dan, then went searching for a notary. Why? you ask. Well, I went to an unclaimed funds site someone told me about, plugged in my maiden name, and it popped up that Coca Cola owes me money! I was flabbergasted, as you can well imagine. I printed out the form and wondered, "Am I a millionaire and don't even know it?"

Finding a notary proved a pain in the ass, however. My local town is rife with lawyers, banks, insurance companies, all of which SHOULD have had a notary public on-site. But noooooo, yesterday they were all either off altogether, not there when I was or some other lame reason for not being there when I needed them.

One woman said, "Try the funeral home." Yes, I was puzzled, too, but I walked to the funeral home and quietly, respectfully, entered. I heard people laughing in one room (how inappropriate, I thought) and went there. It was the office (and I guess all office workers have the right to laugh), and I asked for their notary. A kind lady said he wasn't in yet, but would be; if I left my name, he would call me when he came in and I could get my paper signed then. I did as she asked.

Those of you who have been reading me a while have probably figured out what a ditz I can be. Well, Ditzy Robin left her gym bag in her husband's car. That bag contained her car and house keys. Her son keeps a spare car key for her on his key ring, so I was able to drive to Dan's office and pick up the bag--but I locked myself out of the house (where my beloved son was still sleeping; I sure as shit wasn't going to leave the door open for anyone to steal him or my darling doggies, was I)?

I drove to Dan's company, where he re-introduced me to all his co-workers, two of whom asked me how I could stand being married to him. LOL! If only they knew! (Shit, folks, I'M not really sure!) One of them told me about a bank nearby where they had used a notary, so I stopped there. A woman signed off for me and when I asked her fee, just asked that I contribute to breast cancer causes. I assured her I would. I called the funeral home and told them I didn't need their notary's services, and the nice lady said she'd just left a message on my answering machine.

I stopped at my gym for about two hours, getting in a good bout of exercise. When I returned to my car, there was a frantic call from Dan, frantically asking, "Why don't you keep your phone on you???" Worried that something had happened to Brad, I immediately phoned him. He had had a minor accident with someone who backed into him over the weekend, and wanted to get an estimate from Extreme Auto Body to have it repaired. They were closed yesterday, though, so he wouldn't be needing me to drive him home. I called Dan and assured him all was fine, that he's a crazed nutjob, and that I was going to pick up a few things for the house, then go home and have lunch with Brad.

Our BJ's membership was over quite a while ago, and never renewed it. Nancy ended up with an extra BJ's card somehow, and gave it to me. I can't pay for items with a credit card that doesn't match the membership card, just cash, so I picked up only a few things--tuna and peanut butter crackers for Brad amongst them--because I was low on cash.

That's why poor Brad had to treat ME to lunch at Krisch's today. I ate cheap--a sandwich for $3.50--while he had a $9.00 meal. No problem for me, although he asked me if that was all I was eating. I had some ice cream when I returned home, but he didn't see me eating that.

Mike came over tonight for a BBQ, in a bad mood. He refused to pet Snaps, pissing me off, and was just pretty snippy himself. He sideswiped a car on the parkway the other night because he fell asleep! Why? you ask. Because the dumb boy doesn't get enough sleep. That it has gotten this bad, however, is frightening. Now, not wanting to get his insurance company involved, he has to pay out of pocket for this girl's repair--on a new car. I can understand his being angry--at himself. Taking it out on everyone else really sucks. When you are the author of your own misery, you have to write better script for yourself, don't you think?

Today is July 4th. Aside from a lot of noise, I don't know what the day is going to bring. I'm just so grateful for another day off.

Don't play with dangerous fireworks. Even the most innocuous can hurt you. As a kid, I accidentally took a just-lit sparkler into my hand that left a second degree burn. It hurt so badly, I couldn't make a sound at first, then I was all screams, sobs and wails.

Please be careful. I care.

Love, Robin

Friday. . .I want to go home! It's not just that it's finally a gorgeous, non-tropical day, sans humidity, but I feel like SHIT! After 60 days without menstruating, my period, Aunt Flo, arrived with a bang--cramps, diarrhea, the need to change my tampon every hour. All this for WHAT? To get knocked up a total of once in my lifetime? To bleed from my pussy from the age of nine until now, all those months of feeling like my guts are pouring out of me?

I've said it before--you should be able to turn menstruation on with a switch, ONLY when you WANT to conceive a child! Imagine, there would be no 13-year-old mothers, no rapes resulting in unwanted pregnancies, no stupid teens creating babies their first time fucking, no need for condoms except fear of transmitted disease! A gal would get her first period, then simply turn off that damned switch until she was ready to have her first baby, her second, third, etc.--and we would only have exactly how many kids we wanted to have! Doesn't that sound fabulous? And women could have kids for as many years as they wanted, just like men can!

OK, back to how crappy I feel. Bloated, in pain, cranky, pissed off, I just wanna go home. I'm supposed to go to the gym this afternoon, but in all honesty, I don't feel up for it. I'd rather just go home and wallow in my misery, watching TV with my doggies by my side. I will make up the gym by going both Saturday and Sunday, I swear.

Work is also a pain in the ass. We have no empties to give anyone, and that's really a mess. I'm off for the next four days, up to July 4, which is really great, but Rudyk is on vacation next week, which means the shit falls in my lap for three 10-hour days. I don't mind the overtime, but I do mind that it's going to be very aggravating and no one here gives a shit.

On a happier note, Brad joined me for lunch here today. Of course, I had to show him off a bit--Connie, Tony Buck, Gary, and for the first time, Nancy. We walked down to the cafeteria. He had a chicken sandwich, soup and a bottled water. I just had a large soup, which he didn't think substantial enough. I explained that I wasn't feeling well, it was "woman trouble," which seemed explanation enough. Men don't want any of the gory details, LOL. He excitedly told me he was going to Grand Avenue School to decorate his classroom (he starts teaching summer school next week), and needed to make copies and such. I hope he's this enthusiastic after his first week with the not-so-smart kids he'll be teaching beginning July 5.

Four days off! I hope they'll be good ones. I hope poor Bugsy manages OK with all the fireworks. I hope *I* do. I'm not much of a fan. I enjoy the pretty colors in the sky. The noise I can do without.

Love, Robin

It rained again today. I believe it started as soon as I took Bugsy and Snaps out. Sure. Some mischievous Higher Power up there saw me getting ready, snapping the hooks around their collars and said, "Ooh, there's Robin--turn on the rain! I love watching her juggle the two dogs, the pooper scooper and the umbrella! Heh heh heh! Send in the deluge!"

And down it comes. I walked them around the front yard, trying, with little success, to keep from getting soaked. Snaps just kept tugging at the leash, wanting to return to the house. Bugsy got in a couple of long pee squirts, but I wanted him to take a nice dump, which he's been doing every morning lately. I had to keep yelling at Snaps, "Stop pulling!", urging Bugsy, "Make nice doody for Mama," all the while holding awkwardly onto scooper, leash and umbrella in torrential downpour and unrelenting wind.

"SHIT!" I screamed. "Snaps, stop pulling! Bugsy, poop!" Neither dog obeyed. Cursing, I led both dripping pooch back into the house. Dan had at least remembered to put down towels; unfortunately, one I had planned to bring with me to the gym later today. He dried off Snaps first, then I took the towel and worked on Bugsy. He allowed me to wipe him down for a good 40 seconds before snarling and attacking in that terrorizing way of his that sounds like he's going to bite off your hand. I instantly ceased the drying process and released him from the leash.

My soaking-wet hair looked like crap all day today, greasy and frizzy, but I didn't give much of a shit. I also had a streak of red in my panties this morning, so it appears my period IS NOT completely done with my yet. On the other hand, I don't feel all crampy, and the flow is definitely not the gusher I would expect after not getting it for three months, but perhaps this is just the pre-cursor, and pre-period, if you will. Maybe I will explode like Mt. St. Helena in a day or so and I will require a transfusion of B+? Please keep me in mind if you match my type, OK? Thanks!

Dan, Brad and I went out for Tuesday Two-Fer at Sidekicks last night. I had the sandwich, and I gave half of that to him for lunch today. He's attending day 2 of his two day seminar. It was dull, but he gets a credit toward his next salary increase. Pretty cool, huh? That's my boy, already climbing the corporate ladder--before even officially starting his job! And he still doesn't want to start paying for his own car insurance--or gas--until it's absolutely necessary! We think it's NOW, he wants to wait until September. Sigh!

Sunshine + heat + humidity makes Robin sad and mad. Robin likes cool, sunny weather. If she wanted to live in place like Florida, she'd go live there!

Hey, keep cool, gang.

Love, Robin

It rained all weekend, precluding outdoor activities. Bide-a-Wee was supposed to have a to-do yesterday, but given the ongoing downpours, we didn't even bother checking to see if it was on; I napped from 12-4, annoyed at sleeping the day away once again. Given my exhaustion and bouts with belly cramps, I was wondering if perhaps my long-lost period was on the way. I don't know. All I know is, the humidity and continually gray skies combined to make me just want to sleep and sleep and sleep!

I did a quick race to Wal-Mart and back Saturday morning after walking Bugsy and Snapple. It wasn't raining when we left the house, but some mischievous higher power must have decided to make it deluge upon the three of us halfway through our walk, and we ended up returning home drenched. I applied towels to Bugsy and Snapple, who waited for a few patient moments and allowed me to dry them off so at least they wouldn't drip on the floors and furniture. My poor hair was so fucking wet!

I went for a facial at 1:30. Prior to that, Dan and I had dozed off for a brief nap. His watch kept awakening us at five minute intervals, and I finally realized it was time to leave. It was the same place I'd gone to the previous day for the facial hair rip and pluck (yes, it hurt), with Laura, the same lovely Russian lady. Her husband had owned, then sold Carpet Depot and must have made a fortune. Laura felt American facials were far inferior to what Russian aesthetists provided, and let me tell you, this woman gave me the most amazing facial! Not only did she tend to my face, she worked on my hands and my shoulders, leaving me feeling absolutely relaxed and marvelous! She plucked blackheads from my nose, soothed my forehead, scrubbed the ugly skin on my chin with exfoliating lotion, played relaxing music, told me how to take good care of my skin, and made me feel like the most pampered woman on earth.

Over the two days, I tipped Laura $15, and she was worth every single cent!

For the first time ever, I think I might treat myself to a facial on a regular basis, but only if I can have Laura take care of me. It was supposed to take only an hour, but she worked on me for nearly an hour and a half!

We dined at TGIFriday's with Mike last night. He spent $9 for two glasses of wine, which is, to me, crazy, but he always has either wine or beer when we go out. I bet Mike still owes Dan for the Pay Per View they saw the other night. And Dan bought tickets on the net to see Superman. Did Mike reimburse him for his? I bet he didn't, not yet. I have a problem with the way Mike does things, but I have to let Dan handle it. It gets me so steamed, though!

Dan and I hit the gym Saturday afternoon. I really wanted to go Sunday, too, but like I said, I chose to use that for a nap day. I'm supposed to come back and meet Dan at the gym later when he gets off work, but I hate doing that! It's so much easier to just stop at the gym on my way home and be done with it, you know? I consider it a waste of gas to come back and forth twice. Ideally, I only want to go with Dan weekends, Saturday and Sunday, and maybe one day during the week, like Wednesday.

Poor Dan--Bugsy got upstairs this morning and climbed on our bed. When Dan tried to pick him up to go downstairs, Bugsy growled at him, and Dan was afraid to attempt to force him, so he called me at work. I advised my hubby to just leave the dog where he was; when Brad woke up, he would take him downstairs without any problem. I was right, too--by the time Brad woke up, Bugsy was ready to go downstairs and holding out his paws in the cute, begging fashion he does when he wants to be picked up. Rotten little dog!

Hey, do any of you remember the song, "They're Coming to Take Me Away?" Wasn't that about a guy who loses his dog? I'm having an argument about that with some folks I know. They think the reference to "you mangy mutt" is a woman!

Love, Robin