Conversations with Manbug a/k/a Signs That I'm Getting More Dumber

Scene: Sitting at dinner in a Mexican restaurant. Manbug is clearly thinking about something that doesn't involve me and/or our dinner. So I try to make conversation by bringing up current and relevant topics.

Me: I heard today that the the dog who did the Taco Bell commercials died.

(See all of the levels of relevance? It's a story about a pet that died (like ours did) and about Mexican food (which we were eating).

Manbug: Do you think sometimes there is TOO much access to what's going on in the world?

Me: Probably, but then what could I used as fodder for this scintillating dinner conversation? He was pretty talented.

Manbug: You know he didn't actually say "Yo Quiero Taco Bell," right?

Me: Of course, but he did the commercials in a professional manner even though he was surrounded by food.

Manbug: Or, they filmed the commercial on a set instead of an actual restaurant that had food on the counters.

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Scene: At Sears when we realize that foolishly, we drove Manbug's car (a sedan) rather than my car (an SUV) to buy a lawnmower.

Me: While you are looking around, I could run home and pick-up the truck....wait, never mind.

Manbug: What?

Me: Well, I was going to offer to run home and pick up the truck, but you'd have to drive me there so it doesn't make sense.

(Manbug and Sears Lawnmower Salesman exchange puzzled glances).

Manbug: Or you could just drive the 4 Runner back.

Me: Yea, but what about your car?

Manbug: You could leave my car at home. And bring your car INSTEAD?

Me: ?????

Manbug: Think it through one last time. (Pauses. Sees light bulb go off over my head). Got it?

Me: (sheepishly) Yes.

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Insert a similar conversation here why I argue, unsuccessfully as it should be, that if we bought 3 of the items that cost $9.00, out total would be $16.00 + tax.

Everybody Poops. Just Not Usually in Their Own Backyard.

Life has been a bit of an adjustment the past few weeks. In essence, we lost two pets, but gained a house and a yard. We're still not unpacked, and we have more items arriving - new furniture was delivered today and next week our POD will be delivered. (I don't even remember what the hell is packed in that thing other than my dining room set, china and crystal. Oh - and my Kitchen Aid mixer - never used).

One big adjustment that we've had to make involves the large tank residing in our backyard. You see, we are now the proud owners of a septic system. This means, for those of you that are uneducated in this realm, that our waste resides in our backyard, and is not flushed away into a giant don't-have-to-see-it-city-sponsored-system.

At closing, I was told by the previous owner of the house that I had to be very, very, very careful about what went down my drain. Since that day, I've been trying to educate myself, because it seems that any mistake involving a septic system costs around $15,000.

I've started with small steps - incorporating natural products into the household cleaning process. I've come to know and LOVE so many products that my favorite bloggers have shared with me, so I thought I would return the favor. So far, I've come across two favorites that I must share (since anyone can benefit from using products that don't burn off your nose hairs):

Clorox Green Works Natural Dish Washing Liquid in Water Lily: This stuff ROCKS. Seriously - every time I smell it, I smile. It has such a great scent, and it washes just as well, if not better, than my previous dish washing liquid, but with all natural ingredients. Because of the wonderful results, I suspect that I'll try and love additional products from this line, but honestly, I would keep buying this stuff for the smell alone.

Seventh Generation Natural Laundry Detergent - Blue Eucalyptus and Lavender:




Again, I was wooed by the amazing smell of this detergent, but our laundry looks great too. The eucalyptus smell is a tad masculine, and the lavender, a tad feminine - so both my husband and I are happy about the way we smell. All of our usual stains have come out and I love that it is safe for the environment.

(And yes, my life is so f-ing exciting right now that I'm blogging about clean dishes and underwear. My life is tres glamorous, no?).

Speaking of which, both of these products include the claim that they were not tested on animals. I hate that some products have to be tested on animals to ensure that they are safe for humans, but why on Earth would we have to test things that we know are NOT safe for humans? Oh, really? Bleach burns? No shit Sherlock! If you know something is harmful to ingest, such as laundry detergent, I say, stop testing it!

And yes, I will post some "before" and "after" pictures of the house, as soon as there is an "after" to speak of. Now, we are honestly one milk crate away from being a frat house.

Finally, I just want to thank all of you for the amazing outpouring of love that I received with the loss of my fur-babies. I'm so touched by your support, and feel so lucky to have made such wonderful friends through blogging.

I Promise Not to Write About Dead Pets Anymore

I didn't even bother to put on eye make-up today. I knew that it would become irrelevant in the afternoon. And why waste the effort when it would only end up streaming down my face.

Yes, I'm writing about a dead dog again. Want to find other topics to read about? You should probably read other blogs. Actually, don't bother. This is my last dog, so I likely won't write about it again. So if you want, you can stay here.

The time that I was dreading came. At least I think it did- but I'll never be sure.



I was sure a day ago. And I was sure about an hour before it happened. But I found myself driving 35 miles in a 65 mile zone just to delay the inevitable. Yesterday, I saw her wag her tail and act somewhat puppy-like, and I thought, well ,maybe she's not that bad. But the wag in her tail doesn't hide the pain in her eyes. She was more than sixteen years old, which is like 116 years old to you and me (does anybody remember that cheesy dog food commercial from the 80s that said that line? No? Just me? I digress...).

So I stayed in the room, and I held her head and her heart in my hands while she passed. This beautiful soul that had given EVERYTHING to me. I owed her at least that much. When I got up to leave, I was shocked at how wet her fur had become from my tears.

She had been with me since I was a single girl living in Manhattan working at a large law firm as a paralegal. I was 24 at the time. She moved to the suburbs of New Jersey to live with my parents when I was assigned to a long trial out-of-town. She remained in my parents' care (mostly my dad's care) while I attended law school in upstate New York for three years, but after taking the bar exam, I swooped into New Jersey and moved her to Dallas. She tolerated the "new dog" when I gave a poor abused orphan a home (Mr. Murph). She was there when I met my husband (and she was pretty clear that she didn't like him). She was there when I got married, had a miscarriage, left my job and moved to Austin. At the age of 40. She's been with me through everything...and because of our time together, I feel that I owed her a dignified death.

When I wrote my tribute to Murphy, I wrote about his unique characteristics. I didn't associate them with specific moments because Murphy was Murphy all the time. When I think of Riley, I think of specific moments. Things she did that made me laugh, smile or scream.

I think of the time that she saved my life when we lived in an apartment on the Upper West Side of Manhattan. Someone decided to break into my apartment one night and she barked and barked and climbed on the window - and when I finally got the guts to check on the disturbance, I just saw a shadow running off the roof away from the barking. I think of every time I took a business trip and left her in the care of my parents - how I would ache for her attention as the Town Car pulled up to the curb - just a token of affection to let me know it was okay that I was leaving. But she would throw her nose in the air and walk away, leaving me standing in the hallway with my suitcase upset. I think of the morning that I laid in bed and thought the house was on fire from the smell that was assailing my nostrils - but instead, Riley had been sprayed by a skunk and had sought solace in the only place she knew - my bed. I also think about how later that day I was asked to leave my job as a paralegal because apparently I still smelled like a skunk and had NO idea! I think of the time I brought home a date - a guy that I thought might be "the one" - and while I was trying to convince myself that he was great, Riley was rifling through the pocket of his Armani suit and devouring his wallet and credit cards (and yes, he wasn't "the one" when he freaked out about it). I think of the time my brother drove her to Pittsburgh from New York, so that I could take care of her on a business trip while my parents went away for their anniversary - she charmed the pants off the cranky head of litigation that I was working for, softened the outlook of the in-house counsel of our client, and made everyone laugh when she stole lunch meat off a catered tray in the middle of a trial. I think of the way I clutched her neck as the Towers were falling and I was wondering whether my relatives made it out alive. I think of the way she came to me when I learned of my father's death over the phone - she stood at my side and wouldn't leave until I hugged her and kissed her nose. I think of her mischievous ways as a pup - but they seem SO long ago...and I hate that I can almost only remember her as an old lady. And old lady that couldn't get around anymore. An old lady that paced incessantly only exacerbating the pain in her hips and front paw. An old lady that was too stubborn to eat. She was so skinny you could see her ribs. She was disorientated. And she'd fallen to the floor over ten times since we moved into the new house only six days ago.

I do find it ironic that only a month or so ago, we were a family of four, with no yard, no space and lots of love to go around. Now, we have a huge yard, more space than we need and no one to fill it. We're lost - but we know that we will be okay. Honestly, I think the loss of these two blessed souls are God's message to us to start thinking about a family and stop living in the present. Sometimes the message is harsh - but it has to be heard. So we'll see what happens.

If God allows it, there may be a baby named Riley Murphy, or even Murphy Riley in our future. :)

Tired. And Painty.

Well, this move is sucking the very life out of me. The most positive thought that I could muster up in the past five days was this morning around 1:00 a.m. - I said to myself, "Well, hopefully at this time next week I'll be in bed."

We are in the process of painting the entire house. The ceilings were scraped by professionals and they look wonderful. The paint? Eh - it varies from room to room. The two rooms that were done by professionals look wonderful. The other rooms that are being painted by a combination of my mother-in-law, husband and myself? Not horrible - but let's just say that the colors we chose are highlighting all of the not-seen-before flaws in the thirty-five year old walls. I mean, really - if you were thirty-five years old would you want someone smearing Sherwin Williams' Herbal Wash on your ass and thighs thus drawing a map to your divots and pits? I think not.

We move tomorrow and not a single box is packed.

But I'm not panicking, because we've brought a few loads of random crap over to the house already. For example, the master closet should be completely empty and that's a lot of stuff. Also, we live in a 950 sq. foot apartment so there's not a lot to pack. Most of our belongings will be moved down from a POD in the Dallas-area when one of the participants in this marriage remembers to make that phone call. (If I were you, I wouldn't bet on me). Which, upon arrival, I will proceed to throw most of it in the garbage since we've lived without it for a year already. Who needs that shit?

Oh - and to top it all off, Riley, the sole survivor of the dog-related family members is freaking out. She has succeeded in locking herself in various rooms of our apartment during our long paint-induced absences. and in the past three days has likely negated all of the money we put down as a pet deposit. Up until this point the apartment was relatively scar-free. But really, we didn't want that $700 anyway.

We've had a lot of bumps and bruises - such as ordering an amazing refrigerator that does everything short of waxing your bikini line, only to find upon delivery that it DOESN'T FIT. And so we ended up with the unemployed-alcoholic-cousin version of the aforementioned model. In other words, it will likely do nothing except sit on our couch watching The Food Network while sponging off electricity and snacking from its own interior.

I can't wait until this is over and life returns to a semi-state of normal. I need some alone time right about now, and unfortunately, that doesn't seem to be in my future.

So I'm holding out until next Sunday.

5 Star Friday

I'm touched beyond belief that one of my readers suggested that my post on Murphy be featured on Five Star Friday. Thank you!

Head over there to read some great writing - it's the perfect way to spend the day before a holiday, don't you think!

I hope everyone has a wonderful holiday! Better than mine at least - which will feature paint shopping and packing. Woo-freaking-hoo.

Home Sweet Home

It is ours. Officially. We signed today. We are out of our apartment by the 15th.

First project? Scraping popcorn ceilings and painting. Next project? Oh, a million other things.