Ok, so tomorrow I promise to try again to write about almost getting myself killed on Monday. I’ve been hinting all week, but it’s only because I tried Monday to write about it but couldn’t get my fingers to type it in paragraph form. I’ve only been able to tell the story a few times, so y’all know it’s difficult, because I love to tell stories. There’s a highway involved, and a state trooper, and a semi, and a diesel truck, and Pinky, and a spin-out, and the scariest moment of my life in slow motion on I-95. Oh yes, and a dumptruck and a cell phone. I think that covers the main points.

she joined the Old Club yesterday and turned THIRTY. the big three oh.

The news is all Anna Nicole all the time. I had to turn it to Espen News to get any real news. Just tell me when the appeals are over so I can actually see news again.

Anyway, just so there is no fighting over me if I kick off earlier than expected: I hereby expressly state in writing that I wish to be cremated. No expensive coffins that people will see one time. Get me a nice urn. A pretty one. But please. A ziploc bag, too, so that no one accidentally knocks me onto the floor and has to vacuum me up with the dog hair.

Frank knows where I want my ashes sprinkled, but it’s probably illegal, so I shouldn’t say here, because I wouldn’t want him to get in trouble. Y’all can probably guess. It’s not the beach.

No, I’m not planning to die anytime soon. I did almost die Monday, though. That’s another post.

Since I predicted 100% who would be kicked off last week (I’m awesome), I blogged it, even though AI is already upon us again.

And I’m going to start tonight’s episode of the top 10 guys right now. At IMAO. Because my husband is the head of the household, and he says so.

woohoo! i just put on my gun pouch and had to take it back off, because it was falling down too much.

when i bought the gun pouch, i had to loosen the waist strap all the way. to the very end of the strap.

a month or so ago, i had to tighten it a bit. just now, some more. i looked down the length of the strap, and it’s been tightened a total of about six inches. and i never tightened it at all from the time i bought it until last month.

yay!

UPDATE: maybe it’s more like 4 inches. but still. yay!

at the beach last night

the reason it looks so weird is because the evil fake sarahk took it, and he’s not very good with cameras. and all the little fingerprints all over my lens show up in the picture because of the beach condensation. weird.

I get less interested every year, because I see fewer of these movies every year. And more interested in the Emmys every year, because TV’s what’s good right now. Maybe it will swing the other way again someday, but I don’t see it happening anytime soon.

Anyway, tonight will be fun or boring.

I like the montage of nominees at the beginning talking about themselves. It’s cute and talks about the nominees. There won’t be enough of that tonight anyway. But really, it’s cute.

Ellen’s first joke falls flat. This year we celebrate the nominees, unlike the previous years where we just celebrated the winners. Eh.

Record nominations for Mexico. Record illegals, too. Badum-ching. See that? My first joke was funnier than Ellen’s.

Ellen’s opening monologue is a giant bore. Wow, what color is that on Kate Winslet? Pistachio?

And there’s our first “Gore really won” joke of the night. When are they ever going to get over it? Six years, three months and counting. Y’all are really pathetic.

Followed by the first “everyone’s a bigot except us wonderful people in Hollywood” joke. Yes, the world would stop without you to tell us how inferior we are. Bravo, and thank you so much.

And they wonder why ticket sales keep plummeting. Other than the fact that they keep putting out crap.

Jack Black, Will Ferrell, John C. Reilly musical number is really funny. Obviously not written by Ellen.

Makeup: Apocalypto, Click, Pan’s Labyrinth. Pan’s Labyrinth the winner.

Maggie Gyllenhall comes out to talk about the Scientific and Technical Awards.

Nicole Kidman and Daniel Craig, that dashing new James Bond, are the first to present. Art Direction nominees: Dreamgirls, The Good Shepherd, Pan’s Labyrinth, The Prestige. Pan’s Labyrinth wins.

Abigail Breslin and Jaden something something Smith, the two cutest kids in movies this year come out to present the short film awards. Too many to list, I’m sorry, nominees. I celebrate you. The Danish Poet wins animated short. How cute, Jaden messes up reading the teleprompter and makes a joke. “That’s probably not the right line anyway.” So cute. West Bank Story wins Live Action Short. And immediately the winner takes the Lord’s name in vain… Jewish sounding name, never heard of the Ten Commandments.

Sound effects choir thing was cool.

Sound Effects Editing: Blood Diamond, Flags of Our Fathers, Letters From Iwo Jima, Pirate of the Caribbean DMC. Winner: Letters from Iwo Jima.

Jessica Beal and some fellow from The Last King of Scotland are out to present Sound Mixing: Blood Diamond, Dreamgirls, Pirates DMC. Jessica Beal’s dress is kind of blah. Dreamgirls wins. What’s up with Beyonce’s dress? Is she wearing seashells for a strap? Kevin thought grapes.

Rachel Weiss to present Best Supporting Actor. She looks pretty but washed out. Alan Arkin (Little Miss Sunshine), Jackie Earl Haley (Little Children), Djimon Hounsou (Blood Diamond), Eddie Murphy (Dreamgirls), Mark Wahlberg (The Departed). Go Marky Mark! Didn’t see it, but I heart him. Huh. Alan Arkin wins. I like him, and we loved the movie, but his part was about thirty seconds long, and he just cursed and read porn the whole time. So I guess I didn’t even see why this was even nomination-worthy. It’s the only movie I saw, so I can’t speak to the other performances.

And right after Arkin’s speech, Ellen walks through the audience and starts talking to Marky Mark. Nice.
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153. 9 pounds total.

A runaway came to our door tonight. It was so surreal. I have to collect my thoughts before I write about it.

Short version: she’s home safely; her parents came and picked her up.

I blogged it last night over at IMAO. If I had time, I would do a link roundup, but the evil fake sarahk is coming to visit us this weekend, and my house cleaning deadline is upon me.

Last night I didn’t know what to make for dinner. All I knew was that I had thawed some ground beef, so we were having beef. It’s what’s for dinner. Anyway, I just threw a bunch of stuff together,and it turned out really well. I’m actually adding this to “the list”. I don’t know what to name it.

What you need:

lean ground beef
several cloves of garlic, either chopped small or pressed
medium onion or 2 small onions, diced
2 idaho potatoes, diced
2 cups or so of frozen peas
about a cup or so of heavy whipping cream
lots of worcestershire sauce
kosher salt and pepper (best to crack it or grind it yourself) to taste
white rice

What to do:

Brown the beef. While you’re doing that, chop the veggies and press the garlic (or chop that). Add the garlic, onions and potatoes as soon as they are chopped. Add the worcestershire as soon as the veggies are in. Add the peas. Salt & pepper to taste. Add the cream last. I’ve been using worcestershire and cream together a lot lately, and that is a winning combo in our house. Anyway, while that’s all simmering, make the rice. Serve the beef gunk over the rice.

Frank loved it. I thought it was pretty yummy, too. When I was single, I used to do this all the time. Not exactly this, but I would start with lean ground beef, and just throw a bunch of random stuff into the skillet with it and eat whatever came out on the other side. It never turned out badly.

I’m not kidding. You won’t sleep tonight if you click the extended entry.

For the rest of you, what do you think? This huge sucker was on our porch the other night. Weeks ago. Frank thought it was awful, while I said it was a harmless wolf spider (because that’s the only relatively harmless spider I know). After looking at pictures of wolf spiders, it does not look like a wolf spider. It’s kinda scary looking. What do y’all think?
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i saw this a month or so ago when i was driving around shopping one day. am i the only one who finds something wrong with this?

FRANK J: Hey, Sweetie, I’m heading home now. And dinner better be waiting for me when I get there.[It’s good he’s joking, because I do so like his face. He has a nice face, and I’d hate to destroy such a nice face. Oh, I’m sorry. Where’s that Christian submissive wife in me? What I meant to say is: 1 Peter 3:7 says “Husbands, likewise, dwell with them with understanding, giving honor to the wife, as to the weaker vessel,” and that does not sound like he was dwelling with me with understanding.]
SARAHK: Yeah, that’ll ensure that dinner will be waiting for you when you get home. Ever.
FRANK J: I’m not sure what I’d do if dinner was waiting for me when I got home. I’d be so surprised, I don’t think I’d be able to eat.
SARAHK: Yeah, that too. Saying you’d be surprised, that’ll make me ever have dinner waiting for you. Ever.
FRANK J: I don’t think I’d want dinner that early anyway. I wouldn’t be hungry then.
SARAHK: Ever.

See, I think he calls me and says things just so I’ll have stuff to blog about. Since I’m too busy to blog about 24 or to write my extensive post about why CSI: Horatio is the best Monday night television show and America should be hyped up on that instead of 24 which just isn’t doing it for me this year, and considering that my blogging about putting together bookcases and vacuuming the floors would not be the laugh riot of the decade, I think he’s just trying to help me out.

Oh, here’s another doozy: Colossians 3:19: “Husbands, love your wives, and do not be bitter toward them.”
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When Rowdi came home from the dog spa on Wednesday, she was wearing a little bandana. I made her pose for pictures. I took about a hundred and got maybe two good ones out of the batch, because Rowdi is a bad dog who hates posing for pictures.

Wow, so it’s actually cold enough here that there is a freeze warning for my county. I have to cover my impatients! I’m too lazy to do it, but knowing that I have to do it lest they die makes me immeasurably happy. Ok, well it’s probably a little measurable. It’s just that once I cover them with the sheets, I don’t have anything to hold the sheets in place. Sure I could find stuff in the garage like tools and whatnot (we have no bricks or even rocks, surprisingly), but they’d all rust over in the morning when the humidity strikes with the morning dew that covers more like a first rain.

Speaking of rain, we watched Little Miss Sunshine tonight (actually, half before evening worship, half after evening worship). Great film, we really liked it. Oh no, did I just call a movie a film? Forgive me. Old habits die hard, but this did strike me more as a film than a movie, and it did actually win a “film” label from me. I, for the first time in years, found myself wanting to start watching movies and films again. Sadly, I can’t recommend this film to anyone, because the language was terrible and there were a number of porn references throughout. Steve Carell and the little girl, whose name escapes me, were excellent.

My sister wasn’t crazy about the movie. Speaking of my sister. She had two procedures on Friday for the cancer. They think they got it all. Thank God.

No segue here. If I hear one more person say something like, “Do you think Britney Spears has finally gone too far by cutting off all her hair?” … Are you kidding me? Lopping the locks is worse than driving with the baby in her lap? Worse than marrying K-Fed? Worse than getting out of cars flashing her hoo-hah to the world on purpose? No one does that on accident, you know. Every woman knows where her hoo-hah is and how to keep it covered, underwear or no. I actually heard a blonde bimbette on Fox News Saturday say, regarding the balding of the Brit, “Do you think this will be the final straw in the custody battle for her children?”

No lie. I was in such a calm mood, just cleaning my house, and I can’t tell you how loudly I started yelling at the TV when that inane statement left her over-collagenated lips. This is why I have started avoiding the news as much as possible lately. People are stupid and talk about nothing but bald heads, baby’s daddies (btw, if you are white and blonde or Geraldo, I hereby forbid you to say the phrase “baby daddy” — you must henceforth use the apostrophe and the ess, for the love of pete, trust me on this), and Barack “I Might Do Something Someday” Obama. I can’t take it, people. I just can’t.

In other news, popcorn topped with Louisiana hot sauce is the bomb. I can say “the bomb”, because I lived through the ’90s (and these the aughts). So shut up.

Mmm, yes. So yesterday was Valentine’s Day. My wonderful Monkeyface was so sweet. He gave me the most lovely card which contains a poem he wrote for me. A love poem… the first love poem he’s ever written, and it’s beautiful, and no, he won’t let me post it. Sorry, girls. You’d love it. :-)

Also, he got me the final book in the Tatiana and Alexander saga, The Summer Garden. I’ve been rereading The Bronze Horseman the past week, week and a half. Been immersed in that. It’s only my fourth or fifth time. What did you do today, sweetie? Oh, um, read for about three hours straight, went to the bathroom, came back to the couch, read for another two hours, cleaned the kitchen. It’s good, though; I haven’t read it in a couple of years, so there’s so much that I’m reading and saying, “Oh yeah! I forgot about that.” Such a beautiful novel. Today I spent three or four hours just flipping through The Summer Garden. But first I want to finish The Bronze Horseman, then reread The Bridge to Holy Cross / Tatiana and Alexander (if I can ever find either of my copies). Maybe by the time I get to The Summer Garden, I’ll have my hammock strung up. Wouldn’t that be nice. I think the last time I read about Tatia and Shura, I had my hammock up in Amarillo.

Frank also gave me Switchfoot’s latest CD and a box of extra dark mint chocolates. He’s the best man.

I got him a card and made steaks and broccoli salad, and as a special treat, I spent my grocery/allowance money (with which I am very stingy these days) on pine nuts for the broccoli salad. He was most excited when I told him that. “Sweetie, I also got you pine nuts for the broccoli salad.” “Oh, you did? You’re the sweetest! I love pine nuts in my broccoli salad.” His eyes lit up like with the Aquaman boxers about the pine nuts. He loves the broccoli salad. The past two times I’ve made it, it’s been sans pine nuts. The first time because I forgot that we were out of pignolias until I was putting the broccoli in the fridge to marinate, and the second because I’m tight-fisted with the grocery money now.

Anyway, as a bonus Valentine’s gift, I did his Bible study homework for him ;-) and briefed him quickly on the way to class while also doing my own homework in the car. Man, Moses was stone cold after the gold calf business, y’all. Graven images made him go crazy insane. After Bible study we had a very late dinner and TV. We consider dinner and TV a good evening. It’s our thing, you know.

i’ve been blogging it all along at IMAO. just so you know.

(husband’s wishes and whatnot. it makes us money over there.)

The DQ2/DQ8 test was negative. Depending on the lab, the tests can be wrong. Or I could not have celiac disease. Which would mean that something else is going on. But WHAT? WHAT ELSE? Good grief, we’ve gone through every disease in the book except Crohn’s and colitis, and I don’t have very many of those symptoms.

I should have gone to Mayo in December and just pushed back publishing the book.

So there’s <1% chance that I have CD. Which doesn’t rule out CD. Of course, the Dr.’s nurse, when she called, said, “So that rules out the sprue…” and I thought, actually, it doesn’t, it just makes “the sprue”, and who even calls it that outside a medical book?, very unlikely. But what does Dr. Ego know? Not much. Oh, his nurse was so chipper, too. They always are so stinking chipper when they give you negative test results. They do not understand what it is like to be sick. Anyway:

DR. EGO’S NURSE HEATHER: Your test results came back negative!
SARAHK: Ok.
NURSE HEATHER: So that rules out “the sprue”, so Dr. Ego said the next step would be a colonoscopy [Oh now he wants to talk colonoscopies]… So he wanted to get your thoughts on that. Did you want to wait and see if the diarrhea clears up, or did you want to go ahead and schedule that?
SARAHK: Well, considering that I’ve had the diarrhea for three years, I doubt that it’s gonna just clear up. So I’ll go ahead and schedule that with a different doctor.
NURSE HEATHER: Okay, thank you!

Nurse Heather hung up on me. She was still very chipper when she said thank you, though.

I guess my next step is the next gastro. I still think I should have both the endoscopy/biopsy and the colonoscopy. Yes, I wants that good, cracky endoscopy.

I still won’t touch gluten. It is poison to me. But I don’t know what to do to get the doctors on my side so I can get completely better. I’m still not great. I’m better. But not great.

But I can’t complain about much. My little sister is only 23 and has cancer. No, wait. “Cancerous lesions”, the doctor called it, so first my sister told me it’s cancer, then later in the day on Friday she told me it’s not cancer, it’s “cancerous lesions”, so she and I are calling it her “not-cancer”. 23. She’s going to be fine, though.

ok, so i was really close to giving away the old wedding dress that i wore when i married the Psycho X (i just came across it again this minute when cleaning out the garage, and you might have laughed had you seen my reaction–i actually jumped back as if it had bitten me when i saw what was in the box i opened). well, for four years i’ve said i was going to sell the thing on eBay. surely, someone would buy it, and i could in turn buy a case of Cokes. well, my Coke days are in remission for now, and this time i decided i’d rather have the empty box than the promise of future gas money, so i was writing the Freecycle post while Frank was out walking Rowdi. when he got back, i checked with him first to make sure he didn’t think i should sell it on eBay. i mean, it’s a really nice dress. but it is eleven years old. eleven. the sleeves are only slightly puffy, but it is very ornate. i know there are still girls out there who like incredibly ornate dresses, though. i mean, it’s got three keyholes up the back, brocade lace on the bottom, somewhere between a cathedral and a chapel train, Queen Anne neck, sequins and beads all over the top, buttons down the bodice. And yes, there’s a bow at the waist in the back. And I always swore there wouldn’t be a bow, but somehow it snuck in. It’s a beautiful dress. Very… well, ornate. Did I say ornate? It’s the best way to describe it. It’s a ’90s era Mori Lee, if that tells you anything.

Frank thinks the eBay auction would make for good blogfodder, if nothing else. i told him i’d have to drag it out to take pictures of it, and he’d have to help me with setting up the auction and whatnot. he’s fine with it, because he thinks you musees would have so much fun watching it. what do y’all think?

anyway, maybe i’ll give it a shot. anyway, i know how to mail things at the post office now, which i didn’t know until this whole publishing company thing happened. and i’ll make the buyer pay for shipping. so money is better than no money.

and y’all can help me write the ad. so… ideas? here’s what i have so far:

wedding dress. unlucky thing, begets unfaithful husbands, wear at your own risk. slightly puffy sleeves, don’t blame me, it was still the 90s. it’s 11 years old. very good condition, though the marriage is most definitely not. in fact, that no longer exists, and with your help, neither will this dress as far as i’m concerned.

Mmm. So yesterday after my massage, I went straight to Wild Oats, where some of the customers are unwashed. Not all of them (like me–I shower), but some. Some walk in there so proud of their hippiness. Like look at me! I haven’t had a shower since Bush invaded Iraq, in protest of the illegal war! I won’t shower until we have socialized healthcare, and that evil poor-people-hating Republican over there pays for abortions for my promiscuous seventeen year-old daughter, since paying for my seventeen year-old daughter’s birth control on that socialized healthcare system that will totally destroy medicine in this country just isn’t enough for me! I refuse to wash, and that makes me so much better than everyone else!

Where was I? Oh yes. The reason for my post. Free ads. But see, it’s so easy to get distracted when I walk into Wild Oats, because I went to Wild Oats because I’m out of Pecan Nut Thins (by Blue Diamond, I like them very much, and it’s good to have gluten-free crackers on hand). But since I was already there, I absolutely had to go by the bars section. Larabars, Clif Nectar Bars, etc.

Glory! Clif Nectar Bars are on sale for ninety-nine cents! Oh yeah. They only had three left of my very favorites, the Cranberry Apricot & Almond, so I took them all. Hey, if the hippies wanted them, they should have gotten there earlier. They also had the Cherry Pomegranate, which I’ve had but was not too impressed with, so I passed on those.

My point. Here it is. There were other Clif flavors I hadn’t tried, but one intrigued me. Intrigued me in this way: there’s a 40% chance I’ll like this, and a 60% chance I’ll spew it from my mouth, but hey, a least it’s gluten-free! Lemon Vanilla & Cashew. On the one hand, lemon and cashews together, yum! But vanilla in the mix? Hmm? I decided to take my chances and buy two. If I hated the first one, I could give the second one to an unsuspecting Frank.

Yeah, he’d better not touch it if he values his hands. It was so good. So good. It tasted like a white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookie, but with lemon zest and a hint of berry added. It was so good that I called essay, who herself is looking for new wheat-free snacks, and left a message about it on her machine. Before I had even finished eating it. I was sitting at a stoplight, trying to finish ripping the package open, talking to essay’s machine on speakerphone with my mouth full of cookie bar.

Yummy.

My massage therapist has now been to reflexology class. I can’t tell you how awesome my massage was today.

I have very happy feet.

Wow. Anna Nicole Smith died today in Hollywood, Florida. A tragic death following what had turned into a tragic life of late. I wasn’t really a fan, and I rolled my eyes at her a lot and probably laughed at her (mostly I just shook my head, grimaced, and called her crazy), but I’m still very sad about it.

She did want to be like Marilyn Monroe, or so I keep reading. And that was the first thing I thought when Frank told me that she was “unresponsive”. Two very different characters and people, but Marilyn popped into my head.

How very sad for that family. And for that newborn to never know her mother, however (allegedly) crazy or whatever her mother may have been. And they don’t even know who the baby’s daddy is yet.

Sad.

Say some prayers for that family. The whole situation is a bit messed up. I’m not sure why I care, but I kind of do.

from the future

my muscles are closing in on me. all over my body. and i’m having a lot of seizures today.

i’m so careful with the gluten. i’m avoiding tomatoes almost completely. i haven’t had any problems with Amy’s Organics meals, but i had one last night. the back of the box does talk about potential for cross-contamination, so maybe i should just avoid those as well. i don’t know, i’ve not had a problem with those meals before. maybe it’s the small amount of tomatoes in the meal i had. or i don’t know, dairy? soy? eggs?

what’s my next course of action? i think since i know no one in Jacksonville except very distant family with whom i would not be comfortable staying, and on whom i would not be comfortable calling, i’m probably not going to go to Mayo. yet.

no results yet from the DQ2/DQ8 test. but i guess i should go ahead and get a new gastro. i should have done it sooner, because after about 9 weeks on the GF diet, i’m lessening the chances that i’ll have a positive biopsy. however, given that i’m such a gigantic mess, and that i’ve progressed to the stage of having seizures, not to mention that i still have a long way to go toward getting back to good health, if i do have celiac disease, i think there’s a great chance my biopsy will be positive. if it’s negative, i’ll let the doc look for other diseases, but i won’t go off the diet. if it’s another IBD, the GF diet helps those anyway.

i’m dreading the new doctor thing. i’ve narrowed it down to two. a man that i found on my insurance whose website says he has a specific interest in gut diseases and motility disorders (that’s good). and a woman recommended by my massage therapist. y’all know how i feel about chick doctors.

and see, once i have a gastro i trust, i’ll want a dietician or nutritionist. are those the same thing, or different? and covered by insurance? if not, i don’t want one.

oh. and due to new developments in my family medical history, i think i have to go to the gyno and get the shoehorn and steel mascara brush treatment again. i was just there in July, so i don’t know if i should just wait until July, or if i should rush in and see him now. i never jump at the chance to have my cervix cranked open with instruments that should be reserved for torturing terrorists, so you know what my preference would be. what do y’all think?

ok. gotta go. i ache.

ok, so i was bloghopping just now and came across a recipe that calls for butternut squash. i used it myself in a recipe on Sunday; the recipe was from one of my celiac cookbooks.

anyway, lately it seems that everywhere i go for recipes, i see butternut squash. is it the sea salt of 2007?

in other cooking news, i’m slowly integrating my gluten-free kitchen. i made my first recipe that called for condensed cream of mushroom soup. one of the GF cookbooks has a replacement recipe, you make a powdered formula to keep in the pantry and then make up the “soup” on the spot when the recipe calls for it. you can use it for mushroom soup by adding canned mushrooms (the recipe in the book desperately needed salt, but other than that, it worked handily), chicken soup, tomato soup, etc. so that’s good. i was able to make this meatloaf/potato/bacon/cheese pie thingy, and it was a big hit with Frank. entirely GF. oh yes, i bought GF bread crumbs that are made from brown rice, but in the future i’ll make GF bread then use my Kitchenaid food grinder to make the bread crumbs, because $3.50 a small bag is pretty steep. anyway, they worked for the meatloaf part, and it made me happy, because i know i can make crabcakes now. hmm, i’m not sure my crabcake recipe calls for bread crumbs.

anyway. my kitchen is coming together.

both of them. from last week’s running. i tried to run yesterday and was able to run about three blocks total. with walking in between.

i hate running on sidewalks.

ok, i hate running.

but i love my Nike+ipod, and the pouch that Rachel was sweet enough to send me so i didn’t have to buy the princess-and-the-pea shoes.

mmm. but my shins hurt.

and my patience for idiotic adults who act like children.

Ugh, it seems that’s all I blog about anymore, no? Me having a run-in with someone stupid and not filtering my sarcasm before it gets to my mouth.

So I take Rowdi to the vet yesterday for her checkup (oh joy of joy, she has fleas!). After we are all done with the vet, I’m standing at the checkout counter waiting for my bill and talking to the vet’s assistant. Rowdi is standing quietly at my side, staring intently and respectfully at this giant St. Bernard at the far end of the the lobby. It was so cute to see her so intrigued with something yet not pulling at the leash–I think she was in awe.

First the vet’s assistant (this cute little college girl) tells me that she’ll never forget the first time I brought Rowdi in for an appointment a year ago and said, “I’ve never owned a dog before and have no idea what I’m doing!” and then she tells me what a great job she thinks we’ve done with Rowdi, and what a great dog Rowdi is. I aww thank her, and then we start talking about the carpet-dog (Australian Shepherd) behind the counter who is staring up at us and is completely still and looks like a statue. The vet’s assistant tells me the carpet-dog is begging for cookies and says, “I’m sorry, but if Rowdi can’t have one, you can’t either.” And we continue to talk about poor Rowdi’s strict diet and make other such small talk while I wait for my bill, the flea pills for Rowdi and the kitties (oh yeah, shoving pills down kitty throats is so much fun), and Rowdi’s flea preventative.

That’s when I realize an increase in loud chatter in the vet’s office, about four feet away from me, in the same direction as the St. Bernard. But I’m thinking it’s just that–loud chatter. You know how it is when a bunch of people start talking at the same time. I continue talking to the assistant (I really should learn her name, it’s the same girl every time and I always recognize her face) and ignore the chatter until it becomes clear that the chatter is alarmingly annoying. I finally turn toward the noise and see this lady–you know the type. Early 40s, cheerleader mom who would kill another cheerleader to make sure her daughter makes captain, boob job, perfect nails, doesn’t leave her house without her makeup perfect, perfect straight black hair, and clutched tightly in her arms is a muppet dog to match her hair. Oh good grief, she is looking at me. And talking to me. Talking at me. With scared eyes. Chatterbox with the muppet hair and the muppet dog and the french manicure sculptured nails is talking at me.

MUPPET: Are you holding onto that dog’s leash?
SARAHK: [Nothing from me, because see, I really am still trying to take it all in, take her all in. She doesn’t start with “excuse me” or “pardon the interruption while I ask a most ridiculous question that I already know the answer to”, and I am pretty much stunned into silence. Doesn’t happen very often.]
MUPPET: Are you holding onto that dog’s leash?
SARAHK: No. I’m just letting her roam around free in the vet’s office with all the other dogs. [Oh, look. I found my voice.]
MUPPET: We’ve been attacked by a dog before is the reason I’m asking. [She’s actually pointing to herself and her matching muppet dog while she’s saying this, and she’s speaking in a very urgent “you understand” tone. And no, I don’t understand. You’re being a child in a room full of adults.].

This whole time, Rowdi has not even blinked in Muppet & Co.’s general direction, because she is still heavily enthralled with Mr. St. Bernard, who is obviously not a female, because females larger than Rowdi tend to make Rowdi bark. Finally, I just wave Muppet off and turn back around. But not before my mouth starts talking again. “No, I’m not responsible with my dog at all.” What responsible adult human takes their 60 lb. pit bull / German Shepherd / lab mutt to the vet with all the other sick dogs off-leash?

So I turn back and start talking to the vet’s assistant, and she whispers, “Don’t worry about it. It’s not you. It happens all the time in here.” And I’m actually kind of non-plussed, maybe because I’m so used to the muppet’s type, and I’ve received the same kind of treatment in the vet’s lobby before. I just say, “Oh, I’m sure it does,” because really, I’m sure it does, as Rowdi is not the only large dog in the world, and the Muppet is, well… a clone. So the Muppet gets very wide eyes when I turn around and ignore her in my Alpha-dog way and takes a very wide berth around Rowdi and me to walk to the other end of the counter, lest Rowdi jump up and snatch her twin muppet dog right out of her muppet arms.

And of course, I didn’t think to ask Mitzi the Muppet if her little twin was on a leash until I got out to the car. Because the little muppet was not on a leash. And good grief, woman, when you see two adults having a conversation, the very least you can do is say “excuse me” before interrupting to ask your inane questions. If she had bothered to look at my hands, she could have seen that I was holding Rowdi’s leash. She only asked the question in order to say, “Your big dog scares me. Make sure you hold on to her tight so she doesn’t eat my little Fluffy here.” If that is what you mean, then say, “Excuse me, ma’am. Your big dog scares me. Make sure you hold on to her tight so she doesn’t eat my little Fluffy here.”

Maybe next time, I’ll carry an extra leash in my left hand so that when a muppet goggles or asks the inane question, I can just casually flash the leash, all bundled up and not attached to the dog. Like, look at me, my dog is off-leash. Fear her!

Did I miss the View’s celiac segment? Two weeks ago Rosie said they would be doing a celiac disease segment last week, and the only day I missed was Friday, because the View was preempted here for tornados. So was it Friday, or did they not have a celiac segment? The only mention was when Rosie and Elisabeth drank gluten-free beer together, and if that was what passes for a celiac disease segment, I guess it’s better than nothing, but it’s highly disappointing.

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Rock Paper Scissors Bud Light commercial hilarious.

Doritos commercial with the car crunches very funny.

Toyota Tundra commercial very scary. Not fun.

FedEx commercial on the moon kooky and fun. The music makes it. And makes me think of Gob Bluth.

Wedding Bud Light commercial over the top but made me chuckle.

Snickers after the kiss commercial - hated it. Mainly because I didn’t buy those guys as manly.

Chevy commercial with everyone singing was cute. Not Clydesdales cute but cute.

Bud Light “No Speak English” commercial very funny.

godaddy.com commercial. yeah, that’s original. half-clothed girls to sell a product. even crazy celiac Christians like me (who are allergic and averse to beer) enjoy the funny Bud Light commercials. maybe you should try humor. but writing doesn’t seem to be your strong suit.

Budweiser Dalmatian commercial was cute.

The Garmin commercial was so weird, but I was just so happy that it didn’t have that awful “Give-a-give-a-give-a-Garmin” song.

If the Grammies want me to watch, they should stop advertising that the Dixie Chicks are going to be performing. Seriously. Do they still make music?

careerbuilder.com jungle commercial was funny.

the Chevy commercial with the naked guys… that won some kind of contest?

Bud Light “Fist Bump is Out” commercial made us chuckle in the out loud fashion.

Um. The heart risk factors commercial was just creepy.

Sprint’s connectile dysfunction commercial was funny. Too bad Sprint likes to turn every $60 bill into a $120 bill. I don’t care for Sprint. Except that they do take care of their employees who go off to war. I do like that about them.

I love GEICO commercials. Even though they’re the same commercials we’ve been watching.

So far, a disappointing turnout for commercials this year.

Ok, the e*trade “getting robbed by your bank” commercial was great.

Bud Light with the gorillas at the zoo was funny. That one gorilla was so cute. He just wanted to pose for the camera.

The 2nd careerbuilder commercial with the survival match is funny too.

We liked the Taco Bell Carrrrrne Asada commercial.

Emerald Nuts with Robert Gulet. That’s funny.

T-Mobile with Charles Barkley and that other guy — that was funny. “Is this your dad?”

Hahahahahaha. I was laughing from the beginning of the FedEx commercial with the names. Eileen, LOL.

The one with K-Fed would be funny if I hadn’t seen it about a million times because of the “controversy it is expected to generate” because fast food workers are supposed to be insulted by it. And because K-Fed keeps saying “Yo, what up, you know, I like done did that way back in the day when I was like before, you know, wasn’t like, Mr. Britney who lets her hoo-hah all hang out without the undies on and stuff. I did the fast food thing, so I’m just like laughing with and at myself, yo, I don’t mean no harm or da insult, peeps.” K-Fed is such a foregone federal tax withholding from my husband’s paycheck next year that I almost want to bake him a pie.

LOL, the Bud Light with the axe murderer and the chainsaw guy. That’s our favorite so far.

Oh yes. tracey reminded me of the Sierra Mist combover guy. that one was chuckle-worthy, but i think i liked the 2nd Sierra Mist commercial better. though honestly, i don’t remember it now.

Frank: “IZOD: that’s Apple’s new version of Jor-El’s arch-nemesis.” and i laughed heartily. we are geeks.

i am loving the careerbuilder commercials. did i mention that?

I’m rooting for the Colts tonight! At least 30% of them wished me a happy birthday last year, so they are, and will always be, my #2 team (sorry, I will always remain loyal to my Cowboys as long as at least 51% of the players are not incarcerated at any given moment in time). I’d also like to say that my dear friend Tarina is so thrilled that they are in the Super Bowl that she emailed me way back and asked me to blog about it. I intended to but forgot. Anyway, Tarina and I say GO COLTS!!