Since You've Been Gone...

It's really strange not having Crash around.
I find myself looking for him or watching out for him. When we would visit my mom, I could never get comfortable until I knew where he was. Being blind, he'd get turned around in her big house or have trouble finding his way through the doggie door.
While at my mom's Tuesday, I kept wondering, "Where is Crash?" then I would remember.
Tuesday morning, I got out 3 treats instead of just two. I wake up in the morning and it takes me a few minutes to remember that he's gone. He slept in the bed 100% of the time. Zoe and Piper sleep on the bed 50% of the time. I woke up this morning with the bed to myself. It was a very odd feeling.
It's hard to let something or someone go after being in your life for 10 yrs.

There is something else that is bothering me. I realized yesterday when I was walking Zoe and Piper that I resent them a little.
I know it's horrible and I'm so ashamed of myself but I see them running around in the grass, sniffing everything in their path and I'm a little angry that Crash can't do that anymore.
I know this will pass but it's not fair to them. They're just as dependant on me as Crash was but I spent over a year devoted to Crash because of his health issues.
Everything I did, I did with Crash and his disease in mind. I changed their food for Crash, knowing that Piper and Zoe would eat whatever I gave them. I fed them boiled chicken and rice because it was good for Crash's digestion.
I would wait and take them out when it wasn't so hot because I knew the heat would tire Crash.
Zoe and Piper were secondary in my thoughts because they were healthy and didn't need my special attention. Now, I don't know what to do with them.

I laid in bed today and rubbed their bellies for a while. I know these feelings are temporary so I'm trying real hard not to neglect them. Life will eventually merge back into some kind of normalcy.

I found out it will take 2 - 3 weeks to get his ashes back. I have no idea why it will take that long but it will give me time to pick out an urn.
I had NO idea they had so many pet urns to choose from. It's unbelievable.

I guess I'm not the only crazy dog lady in the world.

All Dogs Go To Heaven

Yesterday, I had to make a horrible decision. I had to say goodbye to
my doggy soul mate, Crash.
He had been sick for a very long time.
Last year, he was diagnosed with Cushing's Disease and he would have good days and bad. Mostly good, I hope.
Friday, I noticed that he wouldn't eat and I didn't see him drink at all. Saturday morning, I was able to tempt him with a little sausage but he still wouldn't drink. Saturday night, he wouldn't eat at all and I could tell he was very uncomfortable.

I stayed up with him that night. I didn't sleep a wink. He seemed to feel better when I was holding him so I sat up in bed and held him all night long. I fully expected him to die in my arms that night. By 6 am, I had made the decision to take him to the only clinic I knew that would be open on a Sunday. I called when they opened and although I had never been there before, they agreed to see me.
I took Crash in and the doctor never mentioned euthanasia. He said we would try some medications and subcutaneous fluids and see if that would perk him up a little. I took him home but he got progressively worse. He started throwing up his medication and even though I forced water and food down his throat, nothing I could do would make him feel better.
We went back to the vet's office Monday morning and they did a CBC (complete
blood count) and the results were not good. Crash was in kidney failure and severely anemic.




The doctor sat with me and discussed our options. We could try forcing fluids through his kidneys for 72 hrs, do another CBC and see if his levels were
better. If they were, it would mean that he would be better for a while but they would gradually creep back up into the danger zone again. If they didn't get better, well...we'd be back to square one.
Crash had been through so much already, I couldn't imagine leaving him for 3
days in a vet's office to be prodded and poked when he was already feeling so
bad. Crash was only happy when he was with me. How could I do that to him when I knew in my heart these would be his last days?
The other option was to have him put down. I knew that was what I needed to do. I knew he was miserable and I knew it would only get worse.
I asked the doctor how euthanasia worked and he described everything to me in
detail and we even spoke of his remains. I was given lots of options and I
chose to have him cremated and to keep his ashes.
This vet's office is located in an historic home in Galveston. I was put in a beautiful room that was probably once someone's living room or parlor.
They brought Crash to me and we sat in a rocking chair and I held him for
several minutes, telling him how much I love him, what a good dog he has been
over and over again.

When it was time, I was led to an exam room where the doctor gave Crash an
injection while I held him. He simply drifted off in my arms and I held
him until his heart stopped beating.
I truly feel that I did the right thing for Crash. He's no longer in pain and I believe that he can see again. I even prayed that it was my dad that came for him.


Some may think all this pain and heartbreak over a dog is silly but Crash was
literally and figuratively by my side for 10 yrs. No one, human or dog,
has ever loved me as much as Crash did. Zoe and Piper love me but not with
the total abandon and obsession that Crash did.
I'm truly devastated and miss him so much but if the movies don't lie, then
all dogs do, indeed, go to heaven.


Top Gun's Crash N Burn
03/16/96 - 08/28/06

Just for Colin

Apparently, Colin is tired of seeing the fat lady on top. Ha! When I typed that, I realized maybe Colin has a problem with fat women on top...but whatev.

Yes, the Astros won last night. But they're playing the Pirates....who beat them the night before.
So, I'm still hopeful yet not holding out any hope.

Our internet went down at work Thursday afternoon. Time Warner didn't get a guy out here until Friday evening.
So, I had to inform the public that our internet access was unavailable.
You would have thought I went around and shot their mothers.
"What? But I need to check my email!"

I understand that people (including me) have things that need to be done online but shit happens. Don't yell at me or the poor Time Warner technician. When the harried and beleaguered tech showed up, he told me he had been cursed out several times that day. "How many times can a person be cussed at in a day?" he asked.
I assured him that I was an easy going person and that he wouldn't get cursed out by me. That won me some extra time with him. After he fixed our problem, he showed me some problems with my router configuration and helped me fix that.
He said he doesn't normally do that but I was so sweet and understanding when he was hours late.

See, kids? When you show someone just a little compassion, you get something in return.

I should be racking up points for that and for the fact that I didn't kill these stupid bitches that come in here when there is a HUGE sign on the door that says "Internet Access is Temporarily Unavailable. We Apologize for the Inconvenience". They still walk in and look at the dark monitors and say, "Are the computers not working?"
At first, I left a few monitors on because if someone needed to use Word, Excel or just play solitaire or something, they were welcome to. But that confused the general public. "How can your computers be running if the internet is down??"
So, I turned the monitors off.
After a few hours, I eventually shut and locked my door because I couldn't stand the questions.
"Is it still down?"
"Do you know when it'll be back?"
"Can I try to get my email anyway?"
"How do you know it's still not working?"

I simply smiled and answered the questions but inside...oh inside, it was a different story.
I imagined myself bludgeoning people with my keyboard for each stupid question and not stopping until they were a bloody, pulsating pile of human jelly.

That still counts as compassionate, right?

What's that sound?

I believe that's the fat lady singing....

From Astros.com:

The Houston Astros effectively eliminated the slim hope they had to remain in postseason contention with a demoralizing loss to the Cincinnati Reds, who slugged and swatted their way to a 14-0 win..

I was fortunate enough to miss this game. I got in the car during the end of the 5th inning and heard "...and it's 13-0 Reds." I almost ran off the road.

The rookie pitcher, Jason Hirsch, had a horrible night.

It started with two outs in the second. Brandon Phillips homered to spark a four-run rally, capped by Scott Hatteberg's three-run shot to center field.

The third inning was worse. The Reds sent 11 batters to the plate, seven of whom recorded hits...

What bothers me the most is that Hirsch didn't stick around to answer questions and man up about his performance. He bolted out of the clubhouse.
I can understand he's probably upset and embarrassed about his night but what gains respect when things like that happens is your ability to take responsibility for it, own up to it, face it and move on.

Brad Lidge is going through a really REALLY bad time as a closing pitcher. So much so that he lost his closing pitcher job and is now in the relief pitching pool.
Brad doesn't run away from the questions. He stands at his locker and waits for the reporters to get to him and he answers every question.
He'll get past this bad patch. If Hirsch doesn't do the same, he might never move on.

So, I'm a girl and I'm sad for the players. I know they wanted this, they just couldn't seem to get their shit together this last half. I'm always more disappointed for the guys than I am for myself as a fan. Like I said...I'm a girl.

Oh and apparently "someone" read my previous post.
From H-Town Sports:

Chris Sampson, by the way, got a welcome call-up to the big club, replacing Fernando Nieve, who was placed on the 15 day DL.

I can't WAIT to see Sampson back on the Astros' mound!

The Mid-August Astros Rant

Far be it from me to pretend that I know more than a Major League Baseball manager like Phil Garner or a General Manager like Tim Purpura but...what the FUCK is going on?
We have problems with our pitching and Brandon Backe is on the DL again, what do they do? They bring in Wandy Rodriguez again. He was Round Rocked for a reason. Wandy comes in and does a TERRIBLE job. What do they do? Allow him another chance....another chance when Chris Sampson is wasted in Round Rock as we speak? What about Matt Albers? What about Dave Borkowski?
It's almost like they are doing the opposite of what they SHOULD be doing. Is this sabotage? Have they stolen the plot from the movie Major League?

It's not all the pitchers' fault, though. There has been NO run support. Luke Scott can't carry the team and Aubrey Huff's two homeruns last night were wasted.

I don't see a fat lady singing yet, but she's warming up.

Bullies and the Women Who Kick Their Ass...

Adam blogged about a neighborhood bully and drawing a parallel to the conflict between Israel and Hezbollah.
Although I try to stay informed, I'm so past blogging about politics and world events.
However, I don't mind blogging about mind-numbingly boring things like this kid I beat the hell out of when I was a little girl.
When we first moved into the neighborhood, we moved in across the street from the *Johnson's.
Later, we ended up buying the house next door to them.
But, quickly, my parents became friends with the Johnsons. They had 3 kids: a boy my age and two young girls.
There was Big *Billy, the dad, so to differentiate between Billys, we called his son, LITTLE Billy.
Now, I can imagine that having the word "Little" precede your name is enough to make any boy angry but Little Billy had some major problems.
He was a little shithead.
He had pretty much fought (and lost) everyone in the neighborhood and I never really thought I'd be at the receiving end of his shitheadedness because he was deathly afraid of my father.
However, walking home from school one afternoon, I guess he had run out of kids to mess with so he started on me.
I wasn't an idiot. I knew it wouldn't take much to make Little Billy cry. I had seen him cry on numerous occasions when someone bigger or smarter in the neighborhood had him in a headlock. So, after two blocks of being annoyed by Little Billy walking behind me, I calmly spun around and swung my very heavy bookbag and caught him on the side of the head, knocking him and his glasses to the ground.
I simply turned around and kept walking.
I could hear Little Billy crying the rest of the way home.

Later his mom came over to inform my parents that I had broken her son's glasses.
I had already told my dad what happened because I thought it was hilarious and he's the one that taught me how to fight in the first place so I figured he'd get a kick out of it.
He did.

His reply to Little Billy's mom: "So? Sounds to me like he asked for it."

The Johnson's were forever borrowing shit from us. Hell, I bet to this day half of my dad's yard equipment and tools are in their garage.
On this one particular day, my job was to sweep the sidewalks and driveway after my dad did the yardwork.
The problem was, dad explained, the Johnson's had borrowed our big push broom and hadn't returned it.
So, I had to go across the street and retrieve our broom.
Little Billy was sitting in the garage, lying in wait.

"My dad wants our broom back, LITTLE Billy."

Surprisingly, he said nothing and just handed me the broom.
When I turned to walk back across the street, that dickless wonder jumped me from behind.
He was a fat little fucker and I was flattened in the driveway.

Man this pissed me off and I came up swinging.
I don't even remember if my eyes were open or not, I just started punching. He got my right fist right in the mouth and my left between the eyes and I believe another right in his nose because it started bleeding almost immediately.
That punch between his eyes broke his glasses...possibly either newly repaired or just new.
I left Little Billy, crying loudly in the driveway.

Later, Big Billy came over to inform my dad that once again, I had broken his son's glasses.
My dad said, "Yes, she did. I saw the whole thing. And if your son lays another hand on my daughter, I'm going to break his glasses too and then shove them up YOUR ass. Wanna beer?"

My dad and Big Billy drank a few beers and Little Billy never messed with me again.
Just the other day I saw Little Billy over at his parents' house when I was visiting my mother. He made a point to come over and speak to me. He's got a family now, you know...wife...kids...etc...

I wonder if he remembers how I kicked his ass when we were kids.

I wouldn't want to face him now, LITTLE Billy ain't so little anymore.

Bloody Ball

I don't know what it is about me but I like a good fight.
Now, I don't get the opportunity to actually fight with someone but I like watching a good knockdown drag out fight.
I love it when someone gets mad enough to just go after someone.
I think that's why I like hockey. I don't really give a shit who's scoring goals, I just want to see some toothless Canadian throw down his gloves and start whaling on another toothless Canadian.

But nothing is more exciting than a bench-clearing brawl in a baseball game.
I was hoping for one while the Astros were playing the Cubs.

The night before last, I watched the catcher, Michael Barrett and the pitcher, Carlos Zambrano get frustrated with the umpires bad pitching calls. After a really good pitch being called a ball, Barrett comes out of his catchers crouch and stands in front of homeplate, giving a sign to everyone out on the field. I was watching the game with my Astro-loving mother and I said, "He's telling Zambrano to hit the batter, I just know it."
The very next pitch caught Aubrey Huff in the middle of the back and took him down.
He finally got up and took his base. The fans were pissed. They booed Zambrano all night.

Later, I can't remember if it was Oswalt or a relief pitcher but he hit one of the Cubs guys and it seemed intentional to me.
Tensions were high.

Last night, Roger Clemens was up to bat and that little pipsqueak pitcher Matteo HITS Clemens.
Roger Clemens is such a big, strong dude that the ball sort of hit his arm and just dropped.
The Rocket doesn't give much away, he just glanced over at the pitcher's mound as if to say "Don't worry, young grasshoppah, I'm about to take you to school."
Unfortunately, the next time it was Matteos turn to bat, a pinch hitter was put in.
The crowd was unhappy. Roger didn't care, he quickly fired a ball right into the batter's left arm.

Of course the crowd cheered and the umpire came unglued.

God, how I wanted a fight. I wanted someone to charge the mound and the players to come flying out of their dugouts!
What is wrong with me that I'm so blood-thirsty? Is it the violent world we now live in? Is it television or movies? Is it rap music?

Or is the sight of a bunch of men beating the shit out of each other something a woman's dreams are made of?

Tiny Hobos

I'd like to know when it became acceptable for children to become panhandlers.

Driving to and from work, I notice a plethora of small children, standing on the side of the road at busy intersections with jars and signs, begging for money.
Their little handmade signs usually say something like "Help us go to the State Champs" but it's sometimes hard to read because they are handwritten by 7 yr olds.
A lot of times I see them with an adult or two but sometimes not.
What parents are letting their kids beg for money on the roadsides like hobos?
When did it become ok to raise money in this fashion?

When I was in extra-curricular activities and needed to raise money for trips we had bake sales, car washes, garage sales, candy sales, etc.
We NEVER begged for money at highway intersections.
I know my parents would never had allowed it and I can't imagine any of my friends' parents allowing it.
Why is it standard fund-raising procedure now?

1. It's dangerous. You're in a busy intersection literally INCHES away from the highway, one wrong step, one out of control car and you're toast.
2. IT'S BEGGING. You are no different from the homeless man holding the cardboard sign that says "Hungry, homeless vet."
You're asking people to put money in your jar without earning it. You're not even willing to work for it. You are now simply a hobo. A State Champion Hobo.

I imagine the homeless people are getting pissed off. Here are all these suburban kids taking over their turf. I assure you that hobo was there before you, kid.
There is one homeless dude that stands on the corner of an intersection of a major highway that I cross everyday.
He likes to change it up a little. I think he might be an out of work actor because he has many different characters.
One day he's a homeless veteran with a very pronounced limp. When the light turns red, he'll even limp around in circles for you, like a handicapped monkey. Then the next day he's got his arm in a dirty sling.
Friday morning, I noticed he was wearing an eye patch.
See, kids, this hobo has a gimic, a schtick. He's not just panhandling, he's ENTERTAINING.

I don't give him any money either but I appreciate his efforts all the same.

Skankeralla Writes

That skank went and got herself her own blog.

Email me if you want to read it.

Allow Myself to Introduce...Myself...

I bet you forgot me, didn't you?

Well...the HELL that was my project is mostly over.
I can't believe that it's done. I also can't believe that I did it by myself.
Somewhere in the back of my mind, I thought that I would get a little help with this but I found myself alone everyday, making decisions and putting things together.
It's bullshit but whatever, I'm finished.
My brain is fried, though. I now understand why smart people can seem so dumb. I'm not saying I'm smart or anything but I have been working so hard and concentrating so much on building databases and configuring software that my brain is literally exhausted and after 9 or 10 hours, it refuses to work.
I fucking got LOST on the way home the other day.
LOST. In my own town!
I was driving in a daze, I guess, and suddenly I thought to myself, "Where in the hell am I?" Nothing looked familiar even though the scenery consisted of things I had seen my entire life.
Hell, I didn't know if I was going to remember how to create a blog post.
You're lucky I did!

I do have a little story.

The other day I decided to take a break from my hardwork. No one else was here except for a coworker.
My coworker, whom I call Suck (inside joke), is only 18. Why she and I have become friends, I don't know. I'm a LOT older than 18 but for some reason, she thinks I'm cool and tells me all her secrets. She even invited me out with her friends one night. For about a nanosecond, I thought about going and then I realized I'm 34 26! I can't hang out with a bunch of 18 year old girls. If we go to a club, dudes will be like "Umm...why'd you bring yer mom?"
I blame it on my air of immaturity. It keeps me looking young, feeling young and apparently, acting young.
Anyway...
Suck decides that she has a crush on a boy that she's been friends with for a few years and she's got his cell phone number and wants to ask him out.
I told her to go for it, so she does. She calls him, thinking she'll get his voicemail and leave him a cute message. However, someone answers and she FREAKS OUT.
She sticks the phone in my face and whispers/shrieks "I can't talk to him! Pretend to be me! PLEASE!!!"
I rolled my eyes and grabbed the phone:
"Hi! Who is this?"
"This is Cowboy(real name), who is this?"
I used Suck's name and said "Oh I was looking for *John."
"This is his dad and this is my cell phone but John used it this weekend cuz his is broken. Is that how you got this number?"
Me: "Uh...yeah probably."
Cowboy chuckled and said, "My wife is going to wonder who all these girls are that are calling my phone!"
Ok...Cowboy sounded REALLY cute and I guess I didn't realize the change in my voice but I was told that I said "Oh my, I hope I didn't get you into trouble!" in a very flirty way.
Suddenly, Cowboy and I were in a conversation. I don't remember what all we said but I was throwing my head back and laughing at his cute little jokes like he was the funniest man in the world.
Finally, Suck pinched my arm and whispered "Oh my God! Are you FLIRTING with his DAD?????"

Shit, I was!

I ended the conversation asking Cowboy to have John call me/Suck.

"Well," I said, handing the phone back to Suck, "If things don't work out with John, I think his dad is interested."

Vacation Ovah

And it's back to work for me.
I've got a HUGE project coming up at work so I'll be VERY busy for the next week but I thought I'd give you a few vacation highlights.

• I love how I call it a "vacation" yet I never left town!


• Monday, I spent cleaning (you wouldn't know it by looking at my place) and catching up on tons of laundry. I was actually SORE by Monday evening.


• Tuesday: *cough*sexintheafternoon*cough*


• Tuesday evening was probably the best. It sounds stupid and silly but I made a pot of tea (Earl Grey Creme), turned on the TV to watch the Astros and got into bed in my comfy pajamas and with a humongous stack of Entertainment Weekly's that I had neglected for weeks. It was wonderful!


• I spent way too much money here. They recently opened a store locally and I'm in trouble. I've been enjoying the aforementioned Earl Grey Creme, Rooibos Tropica, Emerald Princess and Sweet Cranberry Black. I can't wait to go back for more.


• All week, I've been giggling with glee over this Mel Gibson debacle. I absolutely LOVE it when famous people go batshit crazy in public!

That's all I've got for now. Now, it's time to check up on all your blogs!