The Dissertation Part One
Just so ya'll will have something to do over the weekend, here's the first part of the dissertation I've been working on for the past two days. It was three and a half pages in Word. So...yeah. Enjoy.
ROFLOL
Seems I left a lot of gaping holes in my return post. An error that will be rectified today.
Hey, at least I warned you, right?
So here’s the play by play. Just because I want to torture ya’ll.
Thursday, Dec. 21, 2006:
Slept in. (Read: till 7am) Devil Pup not happy ‘bout that situation as her pea size bladder was ready to burst by then. Drank copious amounts of coffee, flipped through 48 channels of nothing on TV. Did you know that the Food Network broadcasts infomercials till 8:30 on weekdays? Oh the horrors! So I had to settle for Charmed re-runs with my bagel. Yes. A bagel with cream cheese, no less. And not even the reduced fat kind. We’re talking the real creamy delicious deal here. Slathered on in large quantities. But the bagel was a mini and it was whole wheat so I had to make up for that healthiness somewhere, right?
So anyway, Thursday was pretty much a “I don’t have to go to work so I’m going to be as unproductive and useless a couch potato as I can be” day.
Essentially, I was a slug.
Friday, Dec. 22, 2006:
By now I’m well acquainted with my TV options and just flip it straight to TNT and Charmed. Another bagel and more copious amounts of coffee. (Retain this coffee fact. It will come in handy later.) The slug mode lasted all of a couple of hours before I was bored out of my gourde. Fortunately, the muse was still whispering to me at that point and I made myself a makeshift desk in my living room and set up my laptop. (An old sewing machine table I inherited from my mom and formerly used as an entertainment center when I lived at home with the folks. It now wastes away in the depressing office/spare bedroom better known as the “Barbie Room” due to the five shelf bookcase on one wall that displays nearly all 110 of my Barbie Collection. Yes. Jana collected Barbies. They were my life’s passion up until I was around 23 or so. No, I no longer collect them. I just can’t bear to part with the ones I have.)
Where was I? Oh. Right. Muse, laptop and makeshift desk.
I got three or four more pages written that day and some minor editing done. If I could ever stop editing what I already have I might actually make it to chapter two. *sigh* (I know, JT. I know. You said to just sit down and write but that’s HARD!)
The afternoon was filled with Libby’s appointment with the vet. The vet who’s office was super busy. Swear, I was the only one in there when we first got there. Got seen right away by the techs who removed the splint but once the splint was removed we had to wait FOREVER for the actual veterinarian to examine her and finish up her chart so I could pay and LEAVE. While we were waiting about six other dogs came in. All of ‘em big. Libby braved out the first two—remaining in the floor, allowing them to sniff her butt. She was uncomfortable and a little scared but she played it tough. But then the pit bull came in and she hopped in my lap so fast you’d never have guessed she’d recently had a broken bone. Climbed up my shoulder and panted and looked at me so pitifully. Truth be known, the Pit Bull was just a big ol’ baby. He wanted to play with her and the other dogs. Kept barking and thrusting his paw at me. Looked at his master as though he just couldn’t understand why no one wanted to play. LOL
By the time the techs finally took him to the back for boarding, Libby was so stressed that we had to make an emergency trip outside. Which makes me really thankful that I can read her so well and recognized the signs that she was about to poop all over the floor. LOL (She did that the LAST time we were there. Or maybe it was the time before that. Not to mention the little poop she left the techs when they were wrangling her to remove her splint.)
Once we finally got examined and paid for ($5!! Turns out we got a $10 credit for bringing her cone collar thing back in one piece and it covered all but $5 of the visit fee. Cool beans. *big grin*) we headed home where the Devil Pup gleefully romped throughout the yard unencumbered. Guess she had to give the foot a test run, right? I ended up having to give her some of her pain meds later on, though, because she’d tested it a bit too much and started…not exactly limping on it, but being very careful with it. So, I drugged her, she passed out and I channel surfed until I went to bed.
Saturday, Dec. 23, 2006:
Thank goodness the Food Network starts their weekend programming so early. I had something to watch for a couple of hours. Until I decided I needed to go grocery shopping, anyway. Why I felt the need to go grocery shopping is anyone’s guess. Not like I was going to be home for a few days. But grocery shop, I did. Spent WAY too much. (Thanks for the assist, Mr. MasterCard!) But I got things I knew I’d enjoy. Like shrimp. Ahhhh..shrimp. How I loveth thee. How I’ve missed ye. Hehehe I haven’t had shrimp since October at Sis2’s b-day party when I sent a rack of grilled shrimp sailing across the yard in my not-so-graceful display of clumsiness. (My knee still hurts, btw. Will this bruise never go away???) Wal-Mart now has these bags of pre-cooked, peeled and de-veined frozen shrimp that you merely thaw and eat. Or thaw, heat and eat. Whichever way you prefer. And since I was craving Chinese but didn’t want to make a return trip to town later I bought some plum sauce and a carton of Chinese noodles…coconut something…to go with the shrimp. (It was good even if it did smell up the house badly.)
Then I found out later that my parents went to town and ate Chinese and DIDN’T INVITE ME! *pokes lip out*
No, I know. They wanted a quiet evening together just the two of them because their house was about to be hijacked by a passel of family for Lord knew how long. But still. They could have brought me a plate home, you know? Mama knows what I like. *pouts*
Sunday, Dec. 24, 2006:
I was so excited to see Santa come visit that I got to my folks’ house at the un-Godly hour of 9:00am. Yeah, I know that isn’t all that early but considering that I normally wait and skate in at 10:45 just in time to leave for church, it was super early. But I had a butt load of junk (gifts, luggage, Devil Put and her toys) to load in the car…plus it was raining. So I made ten trips back and forth to the car and got to their house early and then had to make 10 more trips to my car to UN-load—my dad waited until I was on the LAST trip before he poked his head around the tree from where he was lazing in his recliner and asked if I needed any help unloading my car. No Thanks! I got it from here. *rolls eyes*
And then we made a mad dash to get dressed for church and hauled butt. Church service was lovely…the preacher got hassled for wearing a robe. You know, a religious robe? We’re Baptists. Regular, plain spoken, little country church in the middle of nowhere Southern Baptists. Robes, religious or otherwise, are cause for both serious ribbing and serious criticism from the elder congregants. But he thought it was befitting since it was Christmas Eve and he was offering communion to anyone who wanted it after church. I guess he just forgot where he was. LOL
After church Daddy and I took bets on exactly how close to five Sis1 and her crew would actually get to the house since they had decided to stop off in town to visit some friends of theirs. They rarely ever get away from these friends when they say they will so we had our doubts that we’d see them anywhere close to five.
For once, Sis1 surprised us. They got there at about a quarter after five. Good thing the bets we made weren’t monetary. LOL
Mama and Daddy cooked fried venison, corn and potatoes and we ate by candle light—a Christmas Eve tradition Sis1 started for Emmy when they moved to Tuscaloosa. It was kinda dark and I kinda couldn’t see what I was eating or the food I dropped on my shirt but it was nice. And different. And Emmy love it. She mostly just wanted to make sure we all knew that SHE wanted to be the one to blow the candles out. LOL
After supper was mostly just everyone goofing off, chatting, entertaining Emmy and the dogs. Emmy and I got into a little spat. Started out in fun but then, well, it’s all fun and games while she’s slathering my face with soap foam but when I splashed water at her while I was washing off the soap it became the DRAMA of the CENTURY and then a very immature display from moi as I defended my actions when Emmy ran crying to Nana and told her that she had NOT put soap on my face and called me a liar.
Yeah. I no likie being called a liar. Not even by a seven-year-old. Especially a seven-year-old who looked me in the eye as she said it. My mother says to me as I continue arguing with the child that “You know you’re only egging her on, don’t you?” to which I replied, “Yes, but she needs to know that lying is unacceptable,” to which my mother rolled her eyes and continued to sooth the crying lying child to which I finally—litterally--dusted my hands of the whole affair and declared, “Well, Jesus knows what’s what,” and left the room.
I never said I was mature. That’s why I’m still in progress.
:-p~~~
After the child got over that snit THEN I was her best friend and she defended me when Sis1 called me a smart butt for some snarky comment I made to her about Lord knows what. Of course, Emmy didn’t quite understand the implication that since I’m not a smart butt I must be a dumb butt as Sis1 so sweetly pointed out to which Emmy’s clever response was, “She’s not a butt at all!”
*sniff sniff*
Gotta love that girl.
Even if she is a pathological liar.
We nearly never got the hefer to bed. Even bribing her that Santa couldn’t come until she was in bed didn’t incur her to go to sleep before ten. She was worried that A.) Santa wouldn’t find them since they weren’t at home and B.) That Santa wouldn’t leave her gifts because Bobo (my dad) was sleeping in his recliner since she and Nana were sleeping in Nana and Bobo’s Bed and all the guest beds were full.
We had to tell her that Santa and Bobo were old pals and would probably split the plate of goodies she left him over a Diet Pepsi and talk about old times.
And no. She didn’t just leave him a plate of cookies. She left ol’ St. Nick a plate of sausage balls, haystacks, oyster crackers and orange balls. And I think she left him a Coke instead of milk because she said he’d probably be tired of milk and cookies by the time he got to Mississippi.
To Be Continued on Monday
ROFLOL
Seems I left a lot of gaping holes in my return post. An error that will be rectified today.
Hey, at least I warned you, right?
So here’s the play by play. Just because I want to torture ya’ll.
Thursday, Dec. 21, 2006:
Slept in. (Read: till 7am) Devil Pup not happy ‘bout that situation as her pea size bladder was ready to burst by then. Drank copious amounts of coffee, flipped through 48 channels of nothing on TV. Did you know that the Food Network broadcasts infomercials till 8:30 on weekdays? Oh the horrors! So I had to settle for Charmed re-runs with my bagel. Yes. A bagel with cream cheese, no less. And not even the reduced fat kind. We’re talking the real creamy delicious deal here. Slathered on in large quantities. But the bagel was a mini and it was whole wheat so I had to make up for that healthiness somewhere, right?
So anyway, Thursday was pretty much a “I don’t have to go to work so I’m going to be as unproductive and useless a couch potato as I can be” day.
Essentially, I was a slug.
Friday, Dec. 22, 2006:
By now I’m well acquainted with my TV options and just flip it straight to TNT and Charmed. Another bagel and more copious amounts of coffee. (Retain this coffee fact. It will come in handy later.) The slug mode lasted all of a couple of hours before I was bored out of my gourde. Fortunately, the muse was still whispering to me at that point and I made myself a makeshift desk in my living room and set up my laptop. (An old sewing machine table I inherited from my mom and formerly used as an entertainment center when I lived at home with the folks. It now wastes away in the depressing office/spare bedroom better known as the “Barbie Room” due to the five shelf bookcase on one wall that displays nearly all 110 of my Barbie Collection. Yes. Jana collected Barbies. They were my life’s passion up until I was around 23 or so. No, I no longer collect them. I just can’t bear to part with the ones I have.)
Where was I? Oh. Right. Muse, laptop and makeshift desk.
I got three or four more pages written that day and some minor editing done. If I could ever stop editing what I already have I might actually make it to chapter two. *sigh* (I know, JT. I know. You said to just sit down and write but that’s HARD!)
The afternoon was filled with Libby’s appointment with the vet. The vet who’s office was super busy. Swear, I was the only one in there when we first got there. Got seen right away by the techs who removed the splint but once the splint was removed we had to wait FOREVER for the actual veterinarian to examine her and finish up her chart so I could pay and LEAVE. While we were waiting about six other dogs came in. All of ‘em big. Libby braved out the first two—remaining in the floor, allowing them to sniff her butt. She was uncomfortable and a little scared but she played it tough. But then the pit bull came in and she hopped in my lap so fast you’d never have guessed she’d recently had a broken bone. Climbed up my shoulder and panted and looked at me so pitifully. Truth be known, the Pit Bull was just a big ol’ baby. He wanted to play with her and the other dogs. Kept barking and thrusting his paw at me. Looked at his master as though he just couldn’t understand why no one wanted to play. LOL
By the time the techs finally took him to the back for boarding, Libby was so stressed that we had to make an emergency trip outside. Which makes me really thankful that I can read her so well and recognized the signs that she was about to poop all over the floor. LOL (She did that the LAST time we were there. Or maybe it was the time before that. Not to mention the little poop she left the techs when they were wrangling her to remove her splint.)
Once we finally got examined and paid for ($5!! Turns out we got a $10 credit for bringing her cone collar thing back in one piece and it covered all but $5 of the visit fee. Cool beans. *big grin*) we headed home where the Devil Pup gleefully romped throughout the yard unencumbered. Guess she had to give the foot a test run, right? I ended up having to give her some of her pain meds later on, though, because she’d tested it a bit too much and started…not exactly limping on it, but being very careful with it. So, I drugged her, she passed out and I channel surfed until I went to bed.
Saturday, Dec. 23, 2006:
Thank goodness the Food Network starts their weekend programming so early. I had something to watch for a couple of hours. Until I decided I needed to go grocery shopping, anyway. Why I felt the need to go grocery shopping is anyone’s guess. Not like I was going to be home for a few days. But grocery shop, I did. Spent WAY too much. (Thanks for the assist, Mr. MasterCard!) But I got things I knew I’d enjoy. Like shrimp. Ahhhh..shrimp. How I loveth thee. How I’ve missed ye. Hehehe I haven’t had shrimp since October at Sis2’s b-day party when I sent a rack of grilled shrimp sailing across the yard in my not-so-graceful display of clumsiness. (My knee still hurts, btw. Will this bruise never go away???) Wal-Mart now has these bags of pre-cooked, peeled and de-veined frozen shrimp that you merely thaw and eat. Or thaw, heat and eat. Whichever way you prefer. And since I was craving Chinese but didn’t want to make a return trip to town later I bought some plum sauce and a carton of Chinese noodles…coconut something…to go with the shrimp. (It was good even if it did smell up the house badly.)
Then I found out later that my parents went to town and ate Chinese and DIDN’T INVITE ME! *pokes lip out*
No, I know. They wanted a quiet evening together just the two of them because their house was about to be hijacked by a passel of family for Lord knew how long. But still. They could have brought me a plate home, you know? Mama knows what I like. *pouts*
Sunday, Dec. 24, 2006:
I was so excited to see Santa come visit that I got to my folks’ house at the un-Godly hour of 9:00am. Yeah, I know that isn’t all that early but considering that I normally wait and skate in at 10:45 just in time to leave for church, it was super early. But I had a butt load of junk (gifts, luggage, Devil Put and her toys) to load in the car…plus it was raining. So I made ten trips back and forth to the car and got to their house early and then had to make 10 more trips to my car to UN-load—my dad waited until I was on the LAST trip before he poked his head around the tree from where he was lazing in his recliner and asked if I needed any help unloading my car. No Thanks! I got it from here. *rolls eyes*
And then we made a mad dash to get dressed for church and hauled butt. Church service was lovely…the preacher got hassled for wearing a robe. You know, a religious robe? We’re Baptists. Regular, plain spoken, little country church in the middle of nowhere Southern Baptists. Robes, religious or otherwise, are cause for both serious ribbing and serious criticism from the elder congregants. But he thought it was befitting since it was Christmas Eve and he was offering communion to anyone who wanted it after church. I guess he just forgot where he was. LOL
After church Daddy and I took bets on exactly how close to five Sis1 and her crew would actually get to the house since they had decided to stop off in town to visit some friends of theirs. They rarely ever get away from these friends when they say they will so we had our doubts that we’d see them anywhere close to five.
For once, Sis1 surprised us. They got there at about a quarter after five. Good thing the bets we made weren’t monetary. LOL
Mama and Daddy cooked fried venison, corn and potatoes and we ate by candle light—a Christmas Eve tradition Sis1 started for Emmy when they moved to Tuscaloosa. It was kinda dark and I kinda couldn’t see what I was eating or the food I dropped on my shirt but it was nice. And different. And Emmy love it. She mostly just wanted to make sure we all knew that SHE wanted to be the one to blow the candles out. LOL
After supper was mostly just everyone goofing off, chatting, entertaining Emmy and the dogs. Emmy and I got into a little spat. Started out in fun but then, well, it’s all fun and games while she’s slathering my face with soap foam but when I splashed water at her while I was washing off the soap it became the DRAMA of the CENTURY and then a very immature display from moi as I defended my actions when Emmy ran crying to Nana and told her that she had NOT put soap on my face and called me a liar.
Yeah. I no likie being called a liar. Not even by a seven-year-old. Especially a seven-year-old who looked me in the eye as she said it. My mother says to me as I continue arguing with the child that “You know you’re only egging her on, don’t you?” to which I replied, “Yes, but she needs to know that lying is unacceptable,” to which my mother rolled her eyes and continued to sooth the crying lying child to which I finally—litterally--dusted my hands of the whole affair and declared, “Well, Jesus knows what’s what,” and left the room.
I never said I was mature. That’s why I’m still in progress.
:-p~~~
After the child got over that snit THEN I was her best friend and she defended me when Sis1 called me a smart butt for some snarky comment I made to her about Lord knows what. Of course, Emmy didn’t quite understand the implication that since I’m not a smart butt I must be a dumb butt as Sis1 so sweetly pointed out to which Emmy’s clever response was, “She’s not a butt at all!”
*sniff sniff*
Gotta love that girl.
Even if she is a pathological liar.
We nearly never got the hefer to bed. Even bribing her that Santa couldn’t come until she was in bed didn’t incur her to go to sleep before ten. She was worried that A.) Santa wouldn’t find them since they weren’t at home and B.) That Santa wouldn’t leave her gifts because Bobo (my dad) was sleeping in his recliner since she and Nana were sleeping in Nana and Bobo’s Bed and all the guest beds were full.
We had to tell her that Santa and Bobo were old pals and would probably split the plate of goodies she left him over a Diet Pepsi and talk about old times.
And no. She didn’t just leave him a plate of cookies. She left ol’ St. Nick a plate of sausage balls, haystacks, oyster crackers and orange balls. And I think she left him a Coke instead of milk because she said he’d probably be tired of milk and cookies by the time he got to Mississippi.
To Be Continued on Monday
Comments
And what was so bad about having to "settle" for Charmed?? LOL I've been working my way through a friend's borrowed season 1. I never knew there was a fourth sister before....