I was just outside with Georgia and Brooklyn. While Brooklyn was pooping, in 3 different places because the wind changed its direction or she heard some noise or whatever, I realized something.
It occurred to me that I was standing as if I froze in the middle of walking, one foot in front, and I was also holding my breath. Then I realized that whenever Brooklyn assumes the position, I stop in my tracks, not move a muscle trying not to blink and sometimes hold my breath until she comes out of her pooping stance. Not only that, when she strains for a long time to push that very last teeny piece of turd out, I even make a straining face, intensely staring at her butt. Yes, this is how badly I want Brooklyn to poop. It has been a rough summer for both of us with all that rain.
I think I’ve been whining enough saying how exhausted I am, how I need more hours a day, how I don’t have time to exercise, how I need a break, etc, etc… I’m just guessing I have blogged about all this since I’ve been whining so much that I think I must have, but I’m not quite sure since I’m so tired and exhausted and out of gas; yes, I know, redundant.
Anyway, you’d think I’m doing shit load of stuff everyday judging by the way I complain. But if you look closely, there is not much going on except I need some more R&R and need to sleep well without waking up so much, not to mention I’m getting old and not very fit physically.
The following is my typical day. The routine varies a little depending on the traffic mostly, and when I have to go to the store on the way home, and sometimes when have to do some other stuff, but basically this is it.
- 08:00 am: Officially get out of bed. Take Brandy and Foster out.
- 08:20 am: Take Georgia and Brooklyn out.
- 08:40 am: Feed Grizzley and get ready for work.
- 09:00 am: Leave for work. Drive and curse.
- 10:00 am: Arrive at work and, you know, stay at work.
- 06:00 pm: Leave work. Drive and curse.
- 07:10 pm: Arrive at home. Take Georgia and Brooklyn out.
- 07:30 pm: Take Brandy and Foster out.
- 07:50 pm: Feed Grizzley, change into a bum attire.
- 07:55 pm: Medicate Georgia, Brandy and Grizzley.
- 08:00 pm: Prepare food for dogs: trim the skin/fat, weigh and portion meat. Mix yogurt with Metamusil for Brandy. Cut up meat for Brooklyn, etc, cutting fingers from time to time bleeding and cursing.
- 08:40 pm: Feed the dogs. Hold the food for the Diva.
- 08:50 pm: Hold Brandy upright for 50 minutes, massaging her belly, sides, chest, etc.
- 09:40 pm: Clean kitty litter boxes.
- 09:50 pm: Fix something to eat.
- 10:00 pm: Eat.
- 10:10 pm: Fight off sleep – get online, plurk, read blogs, do dishes, take out the garbage, etc.
- 11:30 pm: Take Brandy and Foster out.
- 11:50 pm: Take Georgia and Brooklyn out.
- 12:10 am: Take a shower, brush teeth, etc and get ready for bed.
- 12:30 am: Get back online or read a book until the hair is not dripping wet.
- 01:00 am: Take Brandy and Foster out for one last pee and go to bed. Toss and turn. Wake up a few times. Try to fall back to sleep, etc until 8:00 am.
- Repeat.
Talk about a boring life, eh?
Apparently, there is a list of top 100 books published by The Big Read, and according to them, the average adult has only read 6 out of the 100 in this list. I have to say that I really REALLY don’t agree with the list itself. But it was fun to go through the list on my Plurk friend perpstu’s blog, Popping Bubbles, and thought I’d do the same thing here.
I counted 44 books I’ve read from the list, which was quite surprising to me since I have been bemoaning the fact that there are so many good books I still need to read and I was sure the count would be much lower. So, how many have you read?
You know, one thing that surprised me upon going through this list was that I have never read A Christmas Carol by Charles Dickens! I have always assumed I’ve read it since I know the story very well from watching the movies so many times! Hahaha
The instructions:
- Look at the list and
- Bold those you have read.
- Italicize those you intend to read (for me, in the next year or so).
- Underline the books you LOVE.
- Reprint this list in your own blog.
1. Pride and Prejudice - Jane Austen
2. The Lord of the Rings – JRR Tolkien
3. Jane Eyre – Charlotte Bronte
4. Harry Potter series - JK Rowling
5. To Kill a Mockingbird - Harper Lee
6. The Bible
7. Wuthering Heights – Emily Bronte
8. 1984 - George Orwell
9. His Dark Materials – Philip Pullman
10. Great Expectations - Charles Dickens
11. Little Women – Louisa M Alcott
12. Tess of the D’Urbervilles – Thomas Hardy
13. Catch 22 - Joseph Heller
14. Complete Works of Shakespeare
15. Rebecca - Daphne Du Maurier
16. The Hobbit - JRR Tolkien
17. Birdsong – Sebastian Faulks
18. Catcher in the Rye - JD Salinger
19. The Time Traveller’s Wife – Audrey Niffenegger
20. Middlemarch – George Eliot
21. Gone With The Wind - Margaret Mitchell
22. The Great Gatsby – F Scott Fitzgerald
23. Bleak House – Charles Dickens
24. War and Peace – Leo Tolstoy
25. The Hitch Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy - Douglas Adams
26. Brideshead Revisited – Evelyn Waugh
27. Crime and Punishment – Fyodor Dostoyevsky
28. Grapes of Wrath - John Steinbeck
29. Alice in Wonderland - Lewis Carroll
30. The Wind in the Willows - Kenneth Grahame
31. Anna Karenina – Leo Tolstoy
32. David Copperfield – Charles Dickens
33. Chronicles of Narnia - CS Lewis
34. Emma – Jane Austen
35. Persuasion – Jane Austen
36. The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe - CS Lewis
37. The Kite Runner - Khaled Hosseini
38. Captain Corelli’s Mandolin – Louis De Bernieres
39. Memoirs of a Geisha - Arthur Golden
40. Winnie the Pooh – AA Milne
41. Animal Farm - George Orwell
42. The Da Vinci Code - Dan Brown
43. One Hundred Years of Solitude – Gabriel Garcia Marquez
44. A Prayer for Owen Meaney - John Irving
45. The Woman in White – Wilkie Collins
46. Anne of Green Gables – LM Montgomery
47. Far From The Madding Crowd – Thomas Hardy
48. The Handmaid’s Tale - Margaret Atwood
49. Lord of the Flies – William Golding
50. Atonement – Ian McEwan
51. Life of Pi – Yann Martel
52. Dune - Frank Herbert
53. Cold Comfort Farm – Stella Gibbons
54. Sense and Sensibility – Jane Austen
55. A Suitable Boy – Vikram Seth
56. The Shadow of the Wind – Carlos Ruiz Zafon
57. A Tale Of Two Cities – Charles Dickens
58. Brave New World - Aldous Huxley
59. The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time- Mark Haddon
60. Love In The Time Of Cholera - Gabriel Garcia Marquez
61. Of Mice and Men - John Steinbeck
62. Lolita - Vladimir Nabokov
63. The Secret History – Donna Tartt
64. The Lovely Bones – Alice Sebold
65. Count of Monte Cristo – Alexandre Dumas
66. On The Road - Jack Kerouac
67. Jude the Obscure – Thomas Hardy
68. Bridget Jones’ Diary - Helen Fielding
69. Midnight’s Children - Salman Rushdie
70. Moby Dick – Herman Melville
71. Oliver Twist – Charles Dickens
72. Dracula – Bram Stoker
73. The Secret Garden – Frances Hodgson Burnett
74. Notes From A Small Island – Bill Bryson
75. Ulysses – James Joyce
76. The Bell Jar - Sylvia Plath
77. Swallows and Amazons – Arthur Ransome
78. Germinal – Emile Zola
79. Vanity Fair – William Makepeace Thackeray
80. Possession – AS Byatt
81. A Christmas Carol – Charles Dickens
82. Cloud Atlas – David Mitchell
83. The Color Purple – Alice Walker
84. The Remains of the Day – Kazuo Ishiguro
85. Madame Bovary – Gustave Flaubert
86. A Fine Balance – Rohinton Mistry
87. Charlotte’s Web - EB White
88. The Five People You Meet In Heaven – Mitch Albom
89. Adventures of Sherlock Holmes – Sir Arthur Conan Doyle
90. The Faraway Tree Collection – Enid Blyton
91. Heart of Darkness – Joseph Conrad
92.The Little Prince - Antoine De Saint-Exupery
93. The Wasp Factory – Iain Banks
94. Watership Down - Richard Adams
95. A Confederacy of Dunces – John Kennedy Toole
96. A Town Like Alice – Nevil Shute
97. The Three Musketeers – Alexandre Dumas
98. Hamlet - William Shakespeare
99. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Roald Dahl
100. Les Miserables – Victor Hugo
Grizzley is going strong. He has the appetite of a tiger because of once a day prednisone. He doesn’t show any signs of the trouble a few months ago. This picture is a really bad one, he looks much better! Nowadays, he doesn’t have that kitty condo because I had to dismantle it to take it out of the livingroom after installing the doors, and wasn’t able to put them together again… hehe…
Georgia is doing well as far as I can see. We’ll get another X-ray taken in a couple of month to see if her elbow dysplasia is getting worse. I just found out she’s been sneaking in some pee on the rug I put down in the livingroom for her. So everybody except Brooklyn is having a blast marking or peeing inside after the new living arrangement!!! *shakes fist*
Brooklyn has been, well, Brooklyn, refusing to step down to the grass to pee or poop EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. This summer has been so humid and wet as to ruin a pair of my Timberlands because they get soaked from walking 10 ft on it to pick up poop. Naturally, Brooklyn refuses to have any of that, so I’ve had to drag her out and body block her from coming back to the deck, to force her to pee. I do that everyday, I tell ya.
Brandy’s poop is still too soft, and we can’t find any underlying cause of the bacterial overgrowth in her intestinal tract. I’ve been giving her plain fat free yogurt and that firms it up a little so that it’s not completely liquidy. But she’s not losing any weight, and actually gaining some and she hasn’t had any bad regurgitating bouts for some time. *knocks on wood* The problem is she acts like she doesn’t have bladder control after the new living arrangement and has been peeing inside.
RPIMFA, aka Foster, is of course doing good. The summer is almost over, and thankfully he didn’t hurt himself or give himself puncture wounds. I’ve caught him a few times following bugs towards his torso again and again, but so far, we haven’t made that second trip to the E-vet yet. Hopefully he gives me a break this year since he’s already caused enough grief by peeing and marking everywhere including my bed.
David Hasselhoff. You remember him, right? From Knight Rider and Baywatch?
I was told that he has a gig as one of the judges in some talent show these days, which, by the way, made me crack up for at least 5 minutes, shedding tears even. Well, anyway. That reminded me of one of the most hilarious videos I’ve ever seen and I want to share it with you.
I shared this video on plurk and one of my friends TheBadMonkey, an awesome guy and a bad bad monkey, invited me to another social networking site discussing all things Hoff! So if you find yourself bored and nothing to do and want to have some fun laughing at people who worship The Hoff, sign up! Come on, watch that video. How can you not? 
You know what pisses me off? Ground Zero. That’s right. Ground Zero pisses me off.
Seven years have passed and you know what we have over there now? NOTHING. Not. A. Thing. Nada. Zilch. For seven years, people have been fighting about what they should do with that space, what kind of structure should be built, what it should look like, what percentage should be dedicated to memorial, whose name should go first on the memorial, where the memorial should be, and the list goes on and on.
Seriously, people. Why aren’t we just rebuilding the Twin Towers as they were just as Donald Trump suggested, maybe a little taller and a little more structurally sound? Isn’t THAT the only way to stick it to the terrorists that says up yours, cocksuckers?
I’m sorry. I’m really sorry for those whose family members passed away in that tragic terrorist attack. I really am. But come on. What’s with this approving the building plans and all kinds of bull shit? If there were a suicide bomb exploding a busload of people in the middle of a highway, should we make a memorial there and move the highway? What IS this nonsense?
We should remember. We should never forget. But for cripe’s sake, stop dwelling on it. A fine piece of prime real estate like Ground Zero? What’s with all this outcry about not enough dedicated to memorial, the disrespectful design, etc, etc, etc? Isn’t that giving in? Isn’t that what they wanted? Dwelling on it and not being able to move on? Why isn’t a memorial wall like Vietnam Veterans Memorial on the side of or inside the building enough? Why does anything need to be approved by the families of the victims in the first place?
As far as I’m concerned, we are losing the war against terrorists and I’m not talking about Bush’s wars. The terrorists are winning. It changed this country to a police state. People are paranoid. People are suspicious of others. And most of all, people can’t move on. People don’t have the guts to say, “Hey guess what, assholes. Remember those Twin Towers you thought you destroyed? They are going right back up, bitches!”
Seven years. Just a hole in the ground. A very fine piece of prime real estate. It pisses me off.
I woke up unusually early. Not that “early” to me was that early, but I remember having a few minutes of spare time in the morning before leaving for work, which NEVER happened. I turned the TV on to check out the famous morning shows before heading out. I watched a plane flying towards and eventually crashing into WTC, with a frantic voice of a female reporter describing the scene. I was intrigued. Hmm… a preview of a new movie? I changed the channel, and the same thing. Changed the channel again, and well, saw the same thing. Well, whatever it is, today must be the opening day. I turned the TV off and headed out.
On the way to work, the radio stations were not playing any music. They were just talking and talking and kept switching to some kind of report about some planes crashing into twin towers. And finally it started to sinking in.
Upon arriving at work a little early, I left my stuff at my desk in nearly empty office, and went to grab some coffee at the cafeteria, which was crowded with people watching the news coverage on TV. When the building came down, there were gasps and short cries of horror and ohmygods, followed by a momentary stunned silence, and then actual crying. I felt sudden pain in my gut and had to grab my stomach watching the building crumble down.
Nobody could work that day. Half the people left to go get their kids. Most people tried frantically to reach somebody on the phone, which, landline or wireless, were decidedly busy and failed to connect people. I was one of them, trying to call my friends who worked or lived in downtown Manhattan, especially Nick, whose office was in WTC, and was able to reach not a single one of them.
Then my cell phone rang. 212 area code but an unfamiliar number. When I answered it, it went dead. And that moment will haunt my life forever. I spent all day wondering who it was. Was it one of my friends? Did any of them need any help? Was any of them dying in pain? After a couple of days, all my friends were accounted for and it was decided that none of them called me. But it continued to haunt me. Did somebody try to get through to a loved one before he or she died so as to say good bye? Did someone try to notify somebody, anybody where they were trapped?
I had just moved to Queens from Brooklyn near Brooklyn Bridge a couple of months earlier, but I could still smell and see the smoke for days. I was glued to TV watching the search and rescue efforts for two weeks, a little too conscious of the fact that the smoke I was smelling included that of somebody’s body burning.
I stopped watching news and deleted that number from my phone.
This rant contains foul language. A lot. You’ve been warned.
It took me 2 hours and 20 minutes to drive to work this morning. I found out later that there was an accident on Long Island Expressway around Exit 49, and I was stuck somewhere between Exit 51 and 50. When I finally made my way out to Exit 50, this jerk in a beat-up Honda, who was driving on the shoulder trying get to the exit faster, kept poking his nose out in front of me as if HE had the right of way!!! Nobody, as far as I know, has ever accused me of being a wimpy driver. Indignant beyond reason at that point, I started talking to myself. Well, actually, I was talking to that dickhead, but he didn’t hear me, obviously.
I tell you right fucking here right fucking now, you bitch! I am NOT, I repeat, NOT a sissy weekend fucking driver who gets scared fuck to drive on fucking L.I.E. during rush hour. I’ve just been sitting the fuck here for almost a fucking hour, and then stop and go at 0.000001 fucking mile per hour for another fucking hour. I’m already an hour fucking late for work and I’m not even half the fucking way there. And my left fucking sole burns like crazy fuck because I drive a fucking stick-shift. Oh, and by the fucking way, have you ever seen a fucking accident scene where a Jeep fucking Wrangler and an itty fucking bitty Japanese car were involved? Have you? Do you feel lucky? Well, do ya, punk?
Yup, I beat him to wallow in his shame of having been defeated by a girl, and felt mighty proud to have finally made use out of that Dirty Harry line. Take that, bitch!
Hardly slept last night. For some reason, I couldn’t fall asleep even though I was extremely tired and sleepy. After tossing and turning for more than a couple of hours, I gave up on the idea and got on plurk again for a couple of hours.
Well well… and I found and killed three spiders crawling on the couch I was on. Yes, that exact couch I’ve been sleeping on. The one on which I have to sleep until I can get a new bed. So you could imagine how that might have affected me. I mean, I’m not such a sissy drama queen who screams and tries to climb up the wall upon seeing some nickel size spider *coughMJaecough*, and I have no trouble whacking a spider with a shoe or squishing it with a paper or whatever is handy. But I found them ON my sleeping establishment! NOT ONE, mind you, but THREE fucking spiders!!!!!!!!! THREE!!!!!
After every single time I killed one, I tossed everything around the couch with murderous intentions and malice in my heart to see if there were more, and none could be found. I’m so fucking sure there are at least a few dozen more and I’m going to find them one by one just like I did last night, casually crawling on the couch a few inches away from me. Naturally, I felt something crawling all over me every time I tried to get some Z’s and here I am, sleep deprived, trying to take a nap and miserably failing to fall asleep. Not only that, somebody on plurk kindly told me something like “If it’s not the biting kind, don’t worry. It’s just an itty bitty bug” and after reading that, why do my limbs suddenly seem to hurt here and there and feel kinda numb, you know?
Yeah, don’t expect this blog to be about something pleasant any time soon. But hey, you all love me because I’m grumpy and cranky, and I aim to please.
Serious Stuff. Seriously
This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-Noncommercial-No Derivative Works 3.0 United States License.NaNoWriMo
Yeah, I'm gonna try this time. I must be crazy... not surprisingly.
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