Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Grown-up Christmas List
Do You Hear What I Hear?
Jingle Bells (the one that's just dogs... barking)
Mary Did You Know?
Anything sung by Josh Groban
Ever. Never. Ever never again.
But...please load up on The Grinch Song, Bells Will Be Ringing, Santa Baby (the non-Madonna one), and any song off of Neil Diamond or Barry Manilow's Christmas albums.
Monday, November 29, 2010
We stop at a truck stop and Ken hands me 5 one dollar bills. My instructions were to get a box of Hostess Old Fashioned Glazed Donuts. Why I had to go in and get them? Eh? Don't know. I go in and find them. There is an orange sticker on the box advertising 2/$5. Good deal. They only had one box left and I only had five dollars. No change for tax. I figure If it's two for five... one should be $2.50. Maybe $3.50 since the sticker signifies... a "special." Four bucks should be enough for the donuts. I'll get a lottery ticket too.
I go to the check-out and am greeted by a woman who has been smoking for way too much of her life.
"Is this it, honey?"
Can I say that I hate when people call me honey. Especially at retail places. They say it like I am too young to be shopping. Like I am going to take a bunch of crumpled up dollars out of my pocket and drop some change trying to put it all on the counter. I was so offended by her calling my "honey" I just nodded.
"Oookay... that's $6.84," the teller told me.
I looked down at my five dollars. Tried to do the math in my head. A box of donuts and a lotto ticket can't be $6.84.
"Are you sure that's right? Did you ring something up twice?"
"I didn't ring anything up wrong."
"Ok. I have to go get some more money." I explain as I back away from the counter... sheepishly.
I was called honey for a good reason I guess.
I head back to the car and ask Ken for more dollars. He had the same question I had Why is it so much money?
I got a couple more dollars and went back in to confront the teller. Have a mentioned my outfit? Furry blue socks, Crocs, Ken's gray sweatpants, a Utah Jazz t-shirt, and I was sans bra.
"Hi. I have more money. I just don't understand though. The donuts were two for five. So one at the most is probably what... $3.50? And the lotto tickets is a dollar with no tax. At the most I see this purchase being $4.50. How did you get $6.84?"
"I rang it up and the machine said $6.84."
"May I please see the screen?"
"I just don't see how this all adds up."
"If you have the money to pay for it, why does it matter?"
"Because I don't want to give you money for nothing."
"Rest assured honey I don't get any of this money."
I sighed and handed over the $7 only because I knew that was the only way to see my receipt and prove to this woman that I was getting ripped off.
She gave me my change and told me to have a nice day. No receipt.
"Can I have my receipt please?"
"The machine's out of paper honey."
One more honey to rub it in. Ugeeh.
I still can't believe it I paid six dollars and eighty-four cents for a box of glazed donuts and a lottery ticket. My math says that I paid five eighty-four for a box of donuts. Which is more than it would have been for 2 box of donuts! I was totally ripped off. Totally!
Tuesday, November 23, 2010
My house. My loved beautiful house. Nobody wants it. sigh I know the housing market is slow. I know the market is flooded with real estate. Pishaw. Yadda yadda. I get a newsletter every month from Ms. Shoulderpads that tells me how many houses she has sold. In that month. And it's always 6 or more. Our house has never made the list. Must have a homemade gym uniform. I don't think she should send that letter. I know that letter is supposed to instill hope into the eyes of home-sellers... but as for me... and my occasionally cynical attitude- I just think "So THIS is what you've been doing all month instead of selling my house!"
Plus there's all this hype with saying "I'm moving." You tell your family. And then your friends. And then your neighbors. And then your friends' family. And then strangers at the deli counter. And everyone is so sad and wishes you weren't leaving. But, here I am four months later... still here... and everyone is acting like I've already moved. No one wants to continue flourishing our relationship because to them I am gone already. Or ought to be gone already. And they've basically already said their goodbyes. In their hearts.
I'm the girl who cried moving. And cries because she isn't moving.
So, I bring it to my board. Which only consists of moi.
In Attendance: All (being one... being me)
I, Patricia L. Poulsen, hereby make a motion to remove Kenneth R. Poulsen from the blog http://www.kenandpatty.blogspot.com/
Motion was seconded by Patricia L. Poulsen (ruthless)
All in favor show by the appropriate sign.
Voting was unanimous to remove Ken.
Monday, November 22, 2010
I don't have the seasonal flu, or some bug zapping around. I've been seriously out of it. And by out of it I mean blacking out of it. It started two weekends ago. Ken came home but I just couldn't get the ball rolling. I was really dizzy. I tried taking a couple naps. Ken figured I was suffering from "severe fatigue." As if regular fatigue wasn't severe enough. During the week with him being gone... I ebbed and flowed. By Thursday I was not doing well and on Friday I could hardly pick up the babe. Ken came home and I told him i was dizzy still. He said I must be tired. I don't understand his logic. I've been tired before and have never experienced dizziness with it. I was considering checking into Dr. Plumb's facility with Lucille 2. This vertigo. I made it until Sunday night when I decided to break down and go seek professional help. I gave the doctor my list of ailments:
I keep blacking out.
I feel like I have to throw up all the time.
I am very weak.
My back hurts.
My stomach hurts.
I can't eat anything.
I'm taking a lot of Immodium (hint, hint)
I feel like I am having contractions.
"Do I have stomach cancer?" I was so sure of it. I was sure I had like diabetes or stomach cancer or an ulcer or hypoglycemia. I had never felt this sick before.
"It sounds like you're dehydrated."
"No. I drink lots of water since I am am nursing."
"How much is lots?"
"8 glasses a day."
"You're dehydrated. I'm going to hook you up to an IV."
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
He loved Ken laying on the floor
He loved stalking squirrels
He loved eating the ends of our bread
He did not love the mailman
Rusty loved walks
He loved getting to lay on the couch
He loved eating dryer sheets
He loved long weekends
He did not love getting brushed
Rusty loved walks
He loved eating ice cubes
He loved playing ball
He loved not wearing his collar
He did not love Henry the cat
Rusty loved walks
He loved paper towel rolls
He loved taking naps on the bed
He loved yard days
He did not love the squirt bottle
Rusty loved walks
He loved to run
He loved his green Nyla Bone
He loved riding in the car
He did not love being by himself
Rusty loved walks
Rusty loved being a Grand-dog
Rusty loved having guests over
Rusty loved Ken
Rusty loved me.
Monday, November 15, 2010
You were my Christmas present back in 2006. Do you remember that? That was the year me and Ken went on our cruise and moved into this house. Ken snuck out a few days before Christmas and brought you home on December 19th. Through all my happy sobbing I said, "Is he for us?" The answer was yes. Oh how I loved you. I would get up early and take you in the back yard in all that snow just to play with you.. And be with you. You'd sit on my lap in the easy chair covered in blankets while I read Harry Potter. You liked being under the blankets just like me.
You got really sick about a week after you came home. Remember? I took you to the vet and he said you wouldn't make it to the new year. I told him to try anything to get you better. It took about 24 hours for you to be back to your good old self. You were a Christmas miracle. You had a second loan out on life and we were going to live it up. We took walks every day. Remember the first time you saw another dog? He was so much bigger than you! You were just a pup and when he barked... you peed your pants. I laughed about that for a long time.
Remember going to obedience school? You were the class clown. They asked us to leave early every single week. Most people would be deterred by that. Not us. We were hungry for knowledge. You didn't make any good friends there. But we bonded. I stood up for you week after week. We made it through. And you can sit, stay, down, and eat treats like nobodies business.
You really like going to AmeriPet. The first time I took you there I cried when we dropped you off. I was so worried. Would you make friends? Would you behave yourself? Would they feed you the right amounts at the right times? Would you remember me when I came to get you? I was so excited to pick you up. You were Mr. Popularity. King of The Wild Bunch. A real ring leader. But best of all, you were really happy to see me. You pulled on the leash the kid was carrying so hard he had to run to keep up with you. You jumped right into my arms and smiled. You wagged your tail the whole way home and then you slept. For a full 24 hours. Remember that?
Remember the first night you didn't sleep in your kennel? I brought you down there like always and you just whined and whined and whined. I told Ken something was up. I went down and let you out. You came upstairs and laid right at the top of the steps. You decided you were a grown up who didn't need to sleep in a kennel. I decided to let you try it for a night. "One night." I said. You did great. I woke up and you were sleeping right outside my door. All sleepy but happy to see me. No kennel since then, huh? One night turned into four years. You are there every morning waiting for me to wake up.
When we found out I had a brain tumor you knew somehow. You were mellow that weekend. Calm. You would lay your head on my lap and listen to me cry. You didn't mind that we didn't go for any walks for a few days.
I have loved you and cared for you and stood up for you for four years. You have been my tender companion. You are a great dog. But, Russ, I have a new pup now. His name is Kole. And for some reason you don't really like him. I wish I knew why. I'm going to try to find a new home for you. Is that okay? Maybe then you can start going on walks again everyday. And maybe someone there will be able to snuggle up with you and read her books. I hope you always remember me. You are my first dog. I love you.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
That once a year was today. Here's my beef with election day. I went to the school, I waited in line, and I voted. I am a dag gum American after all. I guess it's not the actual day of November 2nd that eats me it's all the before and all the after. For weeks, nay months (!), before signs are posted all over the community. People host parties where candidates comes and tell you how great they are. As the day draws closer there are radio ads with candidates promoting themselves and there are radio ads where they are putting the other guy down. I do my research. I read up on just about every one. There's all this buzzy hub bub.
Election day comes.
The winner is announced.
And you never hear from them again.
Unless they cheat on their wife.
I would like to see a bit more follow up. Some continual campaigning. A reminder radio ad here and there letting us know what a great job they are doing. Or heck, even a thank you would be nice. Not all this, "I knew we could do it" bologna. Is that so much to ask? Am I crossing a line here?
I really think I'm a good writer. I am entertaining, charming, witty, cynical, and myself. I think I am better than cJane and NieNie and she was on Oprah!
What does it take to get your name out there!
Come one my four readers! Spread the word!
Monday, November 1, 2010
Most Suspenseful Blog
I like a post that keeps me reading. That doesn't tell the whole story in the first sentence. That has a touch of foreshadowing. I little mystery. You know?
Least Updated Blog
I'll have to go through the blog logs to award this one. This is strictly mathematical. A prize for the slacker I suppose. A bloggie that goes out to someone who most likely would never receive one. Kind of like picking a chubby girl as your base runner just so she feels good about herself.
Most Thought-Out Commenter
It's not too late to get some brown nosing in here, folks.
A repeat from last year, I know I know. Here's the rocks- stone me.
Everyone has to start somewhere. This we know. What is often NOT discussed is every ones also has to end somewhere. This award is for a person who is really going places with their blog. Maybe they started out on the wrong side of the tracks- but they're heading up now.
Alrighty. Awards will be awarded at the awards ceremony at the end of December. Start campaigning!
"Ken, I'm right in the middle of Kole's bath. Can it wait?"
"Well, how long will it take you to finish?"
Not a good question to ask, Ken. Not a good question.
"Well, Ken, the bath will take about 5 more minutes. Then I'm going to read him a story. Then I'll put him down for the night. Soooo... 20 minutes? You might want to get your own socks if you are really cold."
"Ah. nah. I'll wait for you."
Isn't he just the sweetest? I get Kole down. It does take about 20 minutes to get through the whole routine. I go into our bedroom and Ken is in the bathroom now taking out his contacts. I'm changing and he says, "Will you get me that glass of water now?"
The following conversation ensued:
P: (having reached her limit) Can you get it yourself? I spend all day taking care of a helpless human being.
K: But I can help myself.
P: Great! That's what I like to hear! So, go get your own stinking glass of water.
K: I don't think you understand I can help myself.
P: Why do you think I don't understand that?
K: You wouldn't be helping a helpless human being you'd be helping a human who can help himself.
(Both start laughing)
P: Pretty sure I get it. Do you get what you are saying?
K: Yes. And I am presenting you with an opportunity to serve a fellow human being.
P: Oh that's rich.
I don't get his reasoning. Ever.
But I did get him his water.
Because I love him.