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I fell asleep on the couch about 2 hours ago, and DB thought I was down for the count, so he rented (on pay-per-view) the stupid new X-files movie.  Which will give me insane nightmares.  He probably would have been right that I was asleep for the night, but I woke up to puke, so…hello, X-files.  I decided to blog.

I started this post that is a) not funny, b) very personal, and c) very necessary, but I really don’t have it in me right now to finish it, so chances are when you look at this blog tomorrow, it will be the first thing that pops up.  Read it.  It is way more important than this post.

ANYway, this movie is cra-zy.  I have no idea what is going on, but the music is scary.  As if I don’t have enough crazy dreams on my very very own.

Today, DB and I decided to go rug shopping.  We are trying to refinish or replace the hardwood floors in our place (big HUGE debate that really has no end – to replace, which is a LOT easier and way  more expensive, and has no chemicals, or to refinish, which is better for environment, a lot cheaper, and WAY more of a PITA – oh, plus the whole chemical issue) (but either way, the stupid floors need attention – they are splintering and it’s not so much of an option with a small child on the way – hello, child’s knees, what do you mean you don’t like splinters?), and we I want to buy a big area rug to help out the child’s knees, and make it warmer, and be nicer on our feet, etc, etc, etc.  So we headed to a cheap place for said rug.

This place is HUGE.  I’ve been meaning to go for the last four years but haven’t ever made it there.  They have discount everything – socks, pet toys, carpets, crappy couches – and although the stuff is mostly new, it’s pretty dusty.  So we beelined for the rugs.  The handmade “Oriental” (I HATE THAT TERM) rugs.  The 9*12 kind.

The deebster and I begin to paw through said rugs.  There were some good ones, some hideous ones, etc, and every one I picked out was APPARENTLY expensive.  I have a knack for this.  I have no idea *why* I pick out the most expensive rug in the stack, but every stack, I do.  So the options we had at the end of the “handmade” stack ran around $1700 – $2000.  (Is that a good price?  Anyone?  Because it doesn’t seem that great to me, but honestly, I am not a hugely knowledgable in this area.  Feel free to enlighten me.  We didn’t purchase said rug.)

Moving on…we headed to the “Machine-made” “ORIENTAL” (Hate that word again) rugs.  Still with me here?  Also 9*12, also some okay, some hideous (none amazing), but the price – get this – $150.

DB – he is so damn cheap – was *THRILLED*.

DB:  “Man, we could puke ALL OVER this thing!”

Me:  “Yup.”

(People are beginning to stare at us.)

DB:  “The dog could puke on it, and the cat could puke on it, and we could just be like, ‘oh well!’ It was cheap!”

Me:  “Uh-huh, hon…”

(This is totally getting marginally embarrassing.  He does have a point – our animals seem to love puking on soft surfaces – but really?!?  In the store, must we discuss this?)

DB:  “I mean, we could SLEEP, and we’d hear the dog YACK, and we could just WAIT UNTIL MORNING to clean it up!”

Me:  “We would never do that, honey.” (Right?!?  RIGHT?!?!?  WHO WOULD IGNORE THEIR ANIMAL’S VOMIT?!?)

DB:  “I mean, it would be like THIS” – and PROCEEDS TO DEMONSTRATE, getting on all fours on the massive rug stack, for the startled onlookers as to how, exactly, our dog and cat vomit.  I’ll give you a hint.  There is a lot of ramp-up involving very big heaves prior to each animal’s yacking.  There is gagging.  His stomach wagged up and down.  His ASS WAS IN THE AIR.


(We didn’t buy anything there.)

And THAT, folks, was our afternoon.

How was yours?

I know we’ve all been here (or haven’t we?  C’mon, everyone has this at least once in their childhood, right?):

Sick, sick, sick.  In the bathroom.  Forced to make a decision about how to approach the toilet:  face forward, or sitting down?  Because something is gonna happen at both ends, and whichever end you neglect will be totally offended…

Now picture:

Whole Foods.


On the way to class.

It was a really, really, really bad night last night.

‘Nuf said.

To the lady reading a book in the Whole Foods cafeteria watching me book it into the bathroom:

a)  Take a picture.  It lasts longer.

b)  I am RUNNING to DEFILE the PUBLIC BATHROOM.  In, as DB says, many unholy ways.

c)  And I AM PREGNANT, ok?!?  Just because I don’t have a stomach DOES NOT MEAN YOU CAN GLARE AT ME!

To the dude at the checkout counter at Whole Foods:

Thank you very much for the free paper bag.  I promise it went to really, really, really good use.

(I called my doctor’s office this morning.  I think it’s time to amp up the artillery.)

I meant to add this to the last post but I forgot.

Check out the reviews for this product:

They are hysterical!!

Good night!

P.S.  For those who took only B6 – how long did it take to kick in? Is it fast, or does it have to build up in your system?  Thanks!

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I have nothing to say! Can you believe it? But I am still adhering to my NaBloPoMo commitment, whatever that really means, so you get to read my drivel for the next few seconds.

Seriously, I have nothing to say. Here are my current thoughts of the moment:

  1. The situation in Mumbai is sickening. It is now the first thing I check when I get online, replacing my email. DB, who has some negotiation experience (that is all I can really say about that) says that from a textbook standpoint, the situation is being handled in exactly the wrong way, and it is costing people’s lives. The FBI will go to help local law enforcement in countries around the world, but they (the country) must request their (FBI) help, and we don’t think India would feel compelled to do that. So, I remain addicted and saddened and sickened and horrified, waiting for this terror to end. (Not to say that with FBI involvement, it would end, and for sure, the FBI has butchered some negotiations, but they have a lot of experience in this type of situation. So do some other organizations in other countries.)
  2. We did not really go shopping today. We did go into a Circuit City that was closing and a Best Buy that wasn’t closing, and saw absolutely no great deals. I am looking for a camera lens (which I will probably not buy unless it is an insanely amazing deal) and we are pretty much the quintessential Cheap Shoppers this year, and we agreed to Stick To Our Gift List (which is really, really short this year, too), and so we walked out empty-handed. I did go to a Target to buy some body wash and deodorant (seriously, running! out! of! ideas!) and it was a mob scene, which made me so happy that I didn’t do much more shopping. Maybe tomorrow.
  3. We need a car. We seem to be having a difference of opinion on what type of car to buy, though. The situation is this: we have a gigantic dog and a VW Golf (which is doing much better now – we fixed its defibrillation issue and its sundowning issue and it is now dashboard-light-free!). We are in the process of expanding our family at some point, and our car is REALLY TIGHT even now. Like this weekend, we have two carryon bags and some stuff for the dog and my schoolwork, and the car is pretty much full. Last year for Christmas, this is how we travelled:


…where Little is checking out what we are eating. Note the jacket in the passenger seat, the bags behind the back seat and the crate folded up behind the front seats (and not shown: the bags stacked up to the window where Little’s head is. Also not shown: the bags at my feet.)

(but isn’t he cute?)

So anyway, we need to buy a larger car. I think a Subaru Forester is the greatest car ever. Although he is really an open-minded guy, for some reason DB is not thrilled with the connotation. (I say, since I’ll be the one driving it more, and I could care less, who cares?!?) He wants a Toyota Highlander. I think the Highlander is massive, but he (rightly) points out that a Forester is equally gigantic, and I (rightly) point out that the older ones are not as big, and he (questionably) points out that the older ones are the ones that are really the prime models of the vehicle for the stereotype. Whatev.

(Edited: DB really wanted to show you this ad. In case you’ve never seen it. Sorry for the poor quality.)

(In my research for this post, post-hitting the “publish” button, I found lots more ads, including those that said, “Likes to be driven hard and put away wet“, and I found this blog post.  OK.  So there may be something to this, and it seems that Subaru really tried to target the LGBT community with its advertising, but still!  Who cares?!?)

So the other night, we were driving down for Thanksgiving, and we were both exhausted (at 1:30 am) and I popped in the Indigo Girls CD from college. The one I know every. single. word. of. And I belted it out, and as I was singing the Power of Two (which I also love), I turned to DB, and said to him, “You know what my ultimate fantasy is?”

He said, sleepily, “What?”

“To sing this in a Subaru Forester!”


OK, that’s my filler post. Good night!

This is so not going to be what you’d expect from that title.

I will admit: I spend a lot less time reading the news than I did during the election. That’s not because I’m less interested; it’s more because I let a LOT of things slide while I was glued to the TV/computer/whatever to become the Most Informed Voter in America. So now it’s back to, you know, studying.

But one thing to which I have paid some attention is the whole Hillary-for-SoS-debacle/debate/whatever you’d call it. And I happen to be a person who thinks this is a brilliant move on Obama’s part, because it a) sets her up to be a competitive candidate in 2016 for the party, giving her some much-needed formal foreign policy experience, and b) keeps her from making a ruckus in the Senate (is that how you spell ruckus?), deepening the already-concerning rift in the Democratic party (I mean, seriously. I have to hand it to the GOP on the issue of team unity. I was working on the Hill when Newt ran his whole Republican Revolution, which, incidentally, was barely a “revolution” – according to the superawesome Howard Zinn’s A People’s History of the United States, only 37% of voters turned out for that midterm election! THIRTY-SEVEN PERCENT! That is hardly a mandate. But back on the topic – there were Blue Dog Democrats at that time, who were Democrat in name but voted with the GOP, but never did a GOP Member vote with the Dems. Hell, no. They were under significant duress during that time to toe the party line, and it made them a very effective voting bloc. Can we see this happening now with the Democrats? Sadly, or not sadly, depending on how you see the efficiency of the federal government balanced with the whole concept of elected democracy, no.)

So I think it’s not a bad idea to have Hillary for SoS. However, others disagree, obviously, and they are much more important than I am, for sure! So DB and I were talking about it this morning while watching the random Sunday news shows that we watch every week. Although they were talking about the Disaster Of American Cars, we started talking about the Potential Disaster of the Nomination of Bill Clinton as the Husband to the Secretary of State. (Did anyone see SNL last night? It was on there. I don’t think the skit is available online just kidding. Here it is:

Anyway, here is my meager research for this particular piece as evidence that people are concerned about Bill’s involvement with Hill (by meager, I mean I did one Google search and clicked on the first non-blog link). Bill would create issues given his global lectures everywhere, blah blah blah.


Nominate Bill as the Undersecretary of Transportation!

DB added, “With LOTS OF COMMITTEE MEETINGS in Washington!”

Think about it! All of the perks of Hillary with none of the drawbacks of Bill!

I am a genius.

Because you know what?  Sometimes I procrastinate A LOT.  Like now.  And sometimes, if I write everything I am thinking, I will stop procrastinating and get off my posterior and accomplish things.

So here are all of my oh-so-deep thoughts:

1)  I am becoming a total coffee snob.  I didn’t start drinking it until last December, when I was trying to write a  horrible, terrible, life-altering paper (this is, in fact, the paper that really helped me a) define my views on abortion and b) make me decide that I would not, in fact, be completing my PhD program), and I needed to stay awake, and hey – coffee!  Buzz buzz buzz.  But now I am kind of stuck-up about it.  Like I have an amazing husband who makes the coffee every morning, and it stays in this thermal carafe thing, and I am not excited about the taste of this specific coffee.  Who knew I would ever get to the point where I would drink so much coffee that I would actually be able to discern between “amazing”, “great”, “decent”, and “gag me with a spoon” coffee?  Not me.

I would estimate this coffee as between “great” and “decent”.  Which is fine, except that I will no longer be drinking coffee shortly and it will be very unfortunate if I stop drinking coffee on a “decent” note.  So I will be procuring additional coffee options today.  Any suggestions?  I seem to like Peet‘s coffees, but, see, here’s the thing:  Peets has, like, 8,000 versions.  And I repeatedly fail at remembering what I like and don’t like.

This okay/decent coffee is a free trade version from our local food coop.  (Yes, we buy free trade stuff.  It goes along with my whole “story of stuff” philosophy.)

1b)  You might be wondering how foreign cars fits into my SoS philosophy.  Well, we try to buy cars that were not shipped overseas all put together, but that were assembled here in the U.S.  That way we are not clubbing baby seals, but not taking a bath in patriotism, either.  Thoughts?

PS  I sound like we buy cars all the time.  We do not.  We have not actually ever bought a car together.  However, we go car shopping ALL. THE. TIME. because we have a dog the size of a teenager and we’d like to be able to go somewhere with him and another human being at some point in our lives…’cause our current car is a Golf.

2)  Sarah Palin is just the gift that keeps on giving.

3)  Our Muppet dog is finally getting groomed tomorrow, AND I made an appointment for contacts.  I will probably have an eye infection by the time the appointment comes, though, because I am down to my last pair and the appointment is not for 2 more weeks.  (Note to self:  procrastination is sometimes costly.)

4)  Physics blows.  No, it sucks.  It sucks and blows, if you can believe that.  Ha!  My father laughed at that one.

5)  Having a dorky husband who loved physics is good for marital relations.  This is a big surprise to me, actually.  So here I go with my funny story, and then I will be done blogging for the day (SERIOUSLY!)

I have mentioned a million times how DB is WAY smarter than me.  Or, at least, he is smarter in ways that I am not:  like he will remember (no kidding, folks) the content of a general chemistry class he took in his freshman year of college in 1992!!!!!!!!!  (If I could capitalize numbers, they would be capitalized there.)  That was SIXTEEN years ago!

So about 3 years ago, I decided to pursue (ahem) medical school.  (Does this sound familiar?)  I started out by taking general chemistry.  At that time, DB promises that he will help me.  I start out the class, all determined to be a rock star of chemistry despite my background in….POLITICAL science, not BENCH science.  Whatever, right?  I can do anything I put my mind to! Somehow, in that brief enrollment period, I believed that, wholeheartedly.

Except that DB was ordered to do a TDY* for 90 days…with 2 days’ notice.  I was left on my own to suffer through gen chem.

So, he promised he’d help on the phone.

For our VERY FIRST problem set for which we are separated, we get on the phone together, and I start asking him questions about sulfuric acid.  Like does it dissociate completely (there are two protons on it), or does one proton stay on it?

We got in a GIGANTIC fight.  Like I hung up on him, crying and thinking that we would never be able to stay married at this rate, if this is what SCIENCE CLASSES do to HIM!!!  (That was supposed to be funny.  Laugh there.)

I was unable to pursue this plan at that time, so I abandoned it (although I did pretty well in gen chem that semester, despite our marital tutoring arrangement).

Until now.

And now, here I am, taking physics and bio, and expecting DB to coach me through physics.

I will say:  we both did not expect it to go well. In fact, the reason I took chem 2 and orgo while he was overseas was so that he COULDN’T be around to help me – I was all on my own.

But I will not pass this class without a tutor (I know my learning style, and the class doesn’t teach the way my brain works…and, let’s face it – my brain is losing elasticity and I just generally suck at this stuff), and we really don’t have the cash for a tutor, so perhaps by necessity – or perhaps because DB knows this crap better than my TA does – it is working out splendidly.

So splendidly, in fact, that now I do my homework at the Starbucks** next to his office every Thursday, and I call him to help me out whenever I have a question!

So this post is dedicated to my lovely coffee-making, scarily-book-smart husband.  There is no occasion for it other than a) I appreciate him, and b) I am procrastinating SO EFFECTIVELY, and c) although this blog drives him slightly batty, he is supportive.

(And he loves those FBI emails.  So feel free to keep them coming!)

*TDY=Temporary DutY assignment.  Like, “go to X city and work there for 90 days”.

**Starbucks:  did you know that if you have spare change, and you use a Coinstar machine, you can get a gift card to Starbucks (or many other fine retail establishments)?  We had so much change – minus the quarters – that DB managed to get a GC for $150 at Starbucks before he deployed in March.  That, along with SP, is the gift that keeps on giving.

I have effectively blown 35 minutes now.  If you are still reading, I am amazed, and thank you.


She moved all the furniture and took away all of my hiding spots – even the ones behind the washing machine!

He got some Great Stuff and steel wool and plugged up all of the holes!


Help!  help!  help! I’m stuck!

And they have…a CAT!  And a DOG!

I’m doomed.

P.S.  Keiko – great suggestion about the peppermint – I’m going to get some tonight and sprinkle VERY LIBERALLY.  I hadn’t heard that before – that’s great!

OK, I can’t leave that last post as the last post standing just in case I get slammed by Important Other Things this week. So here, Good Things:

1) Read! Such a Worthwhile Thing to Read!:

I could not have said it better myself.

2) We finished the steps! Yay!

3) Three of my friends from my school in London are pregnant! Yay! (Anyone else?)

4) We are going to be paid soon hopefully! Yay! (No, still don’t have any idea when, but I am thinking positively.)

5) My old boss from the job I never really left but doesn’t really have any more work gave me more work! Yay! (=income. Double yay!)


7) Tina Fey looks like Sarah Palin and the hilarity never gets old!

8 ) One of DB’s friends from college sent me this, and I can’t get over how funny it is (original credit here):

OK, that’s it. Anyone else? Good Things?

I am working frantically to finish physics labs (WHOOPS – that should have happened this weekend) but wanted to post quickly about passwords – I am actually trying to consolidate some of them. The PW-protected post below is the same PW that was used for recent posts – the second-to-last posts with pictures and locations. If you are confused, or would like the PW, please shoot me an email/leave a comment. There are lots of you that I try to remember when I send out an email, but sometimes I accidentally leave people off the message (not intentional).

If you have cookies enabled and had the PW previously, you shouldn’t have a problem.

Hope that’s clear! Back to physics.

P.S. Funny story: In college, DB was part of a group that some girls termed the “Nerd Herd”. He did not learn of this nickname until his 10-year reunion a couple of years ago, and I teased him mercilessly until I realized that he was actually mildly offended by this nickname. (But seriously. Who gets a 3.9xx/4.0 in ENGINEERING?!?)

Anyway, scroll forward to present day, when I am taking undergrad physics and hating every minute. *I* am certainly not part of the Nerd Herd, but man, am I glad I married one of its members. 16 years after he took the class, he *still* remembers the problems, the terminology, everything. And no, it’s nothing useful in daily life. It’s, like, minutiae.

I find this memory of his amazing. (And I cannot emphasize how thankful I am.)

Contrast that with my economics degree…and I would really like to remember that information about financial markets right about now. Wouldn’t THAT be useful when the Dow is tanking day…after day…after day?!?

If we have bio kids, let’s hope they are blessed with Daddy’s corrugated-steel-vault-brain and not Mommy’s sieve-brain!

And, in the spirit of oversharing…

So this post has nothing to do with reproduction, God, or anything else that I promised. I will write that one later (I really will). But it was so funny when I told the story yesterday that I thought the Internet should know.

DB and I have this long-standing heated discussion concerning laundry. Specifically, I am adamant that he should clean out his pockets BEFORE those pockets make it into the laundry pile. (His previous method was to empty his pockets as he threw each item of clothing into the wash. This bothered me immensely, on so many levels…especially considering the fact that most of the contents of his pockets are TRASH, why must we STORE TRASH in the laundry basket?!?) At any rate, we’ve made considerable progress on this front.

So I have some time off this week (who are we kidding. I have a lot of time off every week these days – no classes, and the most part-time job of all part-time jobs) and I threw his laundry in the washing machine. I didn’t even look at what I was throwing in, that’s how much I trusted DB’s pocket-clearing efforts.


So I go to move the laundry from the washing machine to the dryer, and there was white, fluffy (wet) cotton all over the place. Like a sheep blew up in there. It was so weird! And then I started to get mad at DB, because I thought he’d left a Kleenex in there or something (eww.) But, see, a Kleenex doesn’t procreate quite in that way.

I kept digging, and I found…a tampon.

And another tampon.

And another tampon.

All nicely puffed up and absorbing as much water as a tampon could possibly hold.

I probably pulled out like 10 tampons, and I decided just to dry the whole load and see what came out.

I pulled another 10+ tampons out of the dried load, all nice and fluffy.

I. washed. a. whole. box. of. ob. tampons!!! (No applicator.)

So now it looks like we sheared a sheep all over our house – no matter how much I vacuum, there is always a piece of tampon. It seriously looks like a hamster met a sheep, sheared it, and set up camp in our living room.


P.S. I wanted to show a picture, but DB told me that was insane.  I decided he was probably right.

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I have 10 minutes on this one. Ready? Go!

So the other night, whoops, I got pulled over. For making a u-turn over a double yellow line (in an area where, I will say, EVERYONE AND THEIR MOTHER makes a u-turn in the street.) (The cop informed me that the double-yellow-line-prohibiting-u-turns is as well-known as the instruction to obey speed limit signs.) (I answered, “I guess so, but I guess I forgot about it cause I’ve been DOING IT FOR THE LAST THREE YEARS!”)

(And in case you were wondering, no, I did not get a ticket.)

(And I’m sure you’re wondering how, exactly, that happened.)

(And yes, DB was in the passenger seat.)

So this is kind of funny. *I* think it’s funny. DB often carries a gun, because he has to. It’s the rule. So when he gets pulled over (like that happens all the time. It doesn’t – it’s happened once since we’ve been married. That encounter did not result in a ticket, either, but for a different reason) he wants to make sure the cops know that he’s packing heat. Because oh-how-bad would that be if he reached over or something that the cop saw his piece? Yeah, bad.

The thing that I think is funny is HOW he goes about saying this. Here is the sample exchange:

Officer: “Did you know you blew past that light?” (This is actually what happened. I actually had some choice words for DB, too, because it was REALLY BAD that he just “didn’t see” the light. Actually, where we live, a lot of people “don’t see” lights. I believe on this occasion he was shocked by a story I was telling him about a close mutual friend, and he really did fail to account for the light status…and in all honesty, there is no way we’d consider what he did to be all worthy of a cop’s intervention…but hey, it was legitimate. Oops.)

DB: “Yes, sir, and I’m sorry.”

Officer, rolling eyes: “License and registration, please.”

DB: “I just want to tell you that I’m a federal law enforcement officer and I’m carrying a weapon.”

OK, now hold up. Does it not sound to you as though DB is threatening to investigate or shoot the cop?!? IRL, that’s how it sounds, and it is freaking hilarious. That is not at all the message he’s striving for, but hey – it’s hilarious.  I almost bust out laughing in the moment (to DB’s total chagrin).

For whatever reason – the threat, the guy’s feeling happy, whatever – DB escapes formal ticketing.

Now I bet you’re wondering how I escaped a ticket, too, esp since DB is in the car, and he’s carrying again.

I’ll tell you: It had to do with my wit and charm and absolutely nothing to do with my husband’s occupation. I told it like it was: I said, “Sir, I am very sorry. I am a moron. I completely didn’t think and you’re absolutely right and I will never do it again.” (Then I said the part about doing it for the last three years. That part wasn’t a lie.)

(I was also thinking about the fact that the insurance bill came the day before and it had “Rachel: No accidents, no tickets, “EXCELLENT DRIVER DISCOUNT PLUS”” and DB: “TICKET 2003. NO ACCIDENTS. EXCELLENT DRIVER DISCOUNT””, which I gloated about for a full day.) (I was thinking, MAN. Pride comes before a fall.)

But no ticket. And it had the intended effect – I will never make a u-turn on the main street in my neighborhood and cringe when I watch others do it (because seriously, it is like the Indy 500 of making uturns in that area…the streets pretty much suck to go back home without making one. But I am strong, and I will prevail.)

And…I still get my excellent driver discount plus. Score.

when DB leaves town!

P.S. I am sharing evidence of my very slob-like study habits with the internet, although you will notice some cropping of said mess. Don’t judge. With the exception of these posts and walking Little, I’ve studied for…a long time today!

(I think it is hilarious how he is sitting on the remote control to the TV – the TV that hasn’t been turned on in days. Olympics? What Olympics?)

(This is basically the same shot. I cropped the part where there are piles of paper stacked along the couch.)

(And yes, those are my notes. My to-do list and notes on how to make amines. He will use anything for a pillow.)

And with that…I am taking some benedryl and going to sleep. The benedryl is for the MULTIPLE MOSQUITO BITES I got on my FACE last night. And how did the mosquitoes get in our place, you might ask?


DB was home alone a few weeks ago. He needed something in the basement, so he left the dog and cat in the house with the back door open while he ran downstairs.

As he was leaving, he heard a hiss (like from a cat), then the door slammed shut.

Little was on DB’s side of the door. The cat was on the other.

(You should start to giggle at this point.)

Although there were no human witnesses, it would appear that, yes, my 12-year old cat slammed the door in anger. And Little and DB were the unfortunate victims.

But wait! The story gets better.

So DB heads outside to try to figure out how to get back inside. He didn’t have a leash for Little, because Little wasn’t supposed to be outside. I guess he put Little in the back hallway with the screen door open.

Little apparently took a note from the cat. He, too, slammed the back (permanent) door (to the outside) shut.

So here we have:

DB outside.

Little in the back hallway (of our three-unit condo).

Cat inside.

Problem much?

So DB found a ladder (somewhere – maybe at a neighbors?), climbed up, broke a window pane (in the glass door to our porch), and busted open the door.

Open window = mosquitoes.

The funny thing is: I asked him to buy a lockbox (to house the key outside) the day before, but he forgot.

PPS.  Whoever says that our couch is hideously ugly and we desperately need a new one gets to help us name our first-born child.  Any takers?  Please?  It is the ugliest thing ever…it is DB’s couch from his bachelor days and it will. not. die.

We will be 90 before I feel that we can ethically buy a new couch!

I thought my last comment on the last post deserved some further attention.

Attention, Bad Guys

Please refrain from committing any crimes between the hours of 5 pm on Friday and 8:00 am on Monday. Further, it would be best if you did illegal things during business hours of the week:

Monday – Friday, 8:00 am – 5:00 pm

Otherwise, you are cramping our style. Those who work for the federal government appreciate full, unadulterated weekends. It is not in your best interest to interrupt their Saturdays.

If you are looking to rob a bank: This is ESPECIALLY true for you. If you want to rob a bank, the *best* day to do so is MONDAY. Got it? No more Friday bull$hit. Bad-guy-finders can locate you a hell of a lot more easily on Tuesday than on Saturday.

Thank you for your attention to this matter. My husband and I had other plans this weekend. They did not include dealing with you.

**For some reason, bank robbers always rob banks on Fridays. It is so obnoxious. DH is not a bank-robber-investigator but he has always said that that squad would be the most annoying one to be on, since banks get robbed all the time and it’s usually on Fridays.

P.S. If you think you’re going to be arrested soon, please sleep fully clothed. Most arrests take place at the crack of dawn, and no one wants to see your crack.

Yours truly,

spouse of stolen vacation day.