dear n.k. you created a monster.

Dear N.K.:

You came to visit and she loved you will all 55lbs of allergy inducing fluff she had.  You taught her a new trick, to shake; and while she pretended she didn't get it, I would like to present you with a story adam just told me:

Lately, at night Neah has been getting up at 3:30am and whining.  While i pretend to ignore her, adam takes her downstairs, checks to see that she doesn't want to go outside, that she has food and water and then gives up and comes back to bed.  She wanders to his side of the bed, whimpers in the dark, and then this happens:

yeah, seriously, she puts her paw up in the air and holds her hand out like she wants a treat. he reaches out his hand and she puts her paw in it and stares intently and expectantly at him, and whines.

You've created a shaking, treat wanting, middle of the night monster.
just thought you should know.

us.

Reasons for spare keys, a list

1. When you are sick your brain doesn't function, you are a keyless idiot;
2. When you husband is in Fairbanks all day, he can't help said keyless idiot;
3. When you spare key keeper is in Denver, he can't help either;
4. When you gave the last spare key to the cleaning lady and she hid it somewhere you can't find, calling her names doesn't make you less of a keyless idiot;
5. When you take your key off your key chain so your AWESOME house guests can use it and then forget to put it back in the right place, you, yourself, sick girl, completed the prerequisites for the title of keyless idiot.

In case it wasn't self-evident, I locked myself out of the house.  It was a particularly genius move, since I left the garage entry door unlocked the first time I went out and then deliberately went back to lock it.  Brilliant.  Worse yet, was that I didn't realize it until I was at my office to grab documents for a mediation and couldn't figure out which key unlocked the door because i usually gauge it in relation to the house key. See number one above.

This leaves me, however, with time to kill now that the legal part of my brain turned off and I am unable to enter the house until Adam gets back from square-banks in like an hour. 

Have I told you yet that our old plasma TV died? Adam says it was because it didn't like having to play the Vampire Diaries, but i told him that was just an ugly thing to say---Damon is eye-candy, so clearly that show isn't to blame.  Anyways, this resulted in a near death experience for Devin, who had to help Adam lift the 400 lb contraption off the wall. The next day, I come home and it is dismantled and Adam is staring at lots of tiny white little fuses, making noises that I could have sworn sounded like angsty squeeks (but he would deny--insert martha melodrama comment here) about not being able to tell on site if they were blown.  You see, the internets--all of them--had told us that when there was a "pop" followed by "no picture but sound" on one's "plasma" it meant that some board or fuse in the back XSUS or YSUS something had blown out. guess you need a fuse tester or something.

Anyways, the end result was me sitting on the floor in fred meyer, then best buy, then walmart, then target staring at TVs which basically have NO difference at all scrutinizing the resolution when my face is three inches from it (rather than the ten feet it is at home) and reading specs about refresh rates and blah blah blah.  So, there's a new TV, which is the largest that will fit on the wall (because god forbid we don't get the biggest one that will fit) and it somehow connected itself to the internet--genius smart TV. Please feel free to come ooh and aaah at the TV (and its warranty plan). oh yea, but i can't go watch it because---ready for it--i'm locked out.