Weighing in on not weighing in

For those of you out in blog-land who haven't heard, there is quite a controversy going on about weight that all started with this post here

Then this other blogger commented on it over here

I'll let you read the posts yourself. All I will say is that apparently, these two posts have struck quite a nerve with many people out there. I suppose they have struck a bit of a nerve with me as well, but as I feel everyone is entitled to their opinion, I have not and will not attack them for their opinions. Unfortunately, not everyone is this respectful and both these women have been viciously attacked in the comments sections of their blogs.

The nastiness has also extended here to this blog to the point where this blogger (as well as the first blogger) has turned off comments in her blog. All these smart, witty women have been attacked and are deeply hurt by all this and that's just WRONG!!!

What makes anyone think it's OK to attack these women? What gives them the right? And if they don't see anything wrong with attacking, then why not have the freaking guts not to do it anonymously?? Fucking cowards!!!

Personally, yes I have weight issues. I met and married D. when I was at my lowest weight in well over a decade. After having two kids in less than 2 years and a bout with mono that never seems to go away, I weigh considerably more than when we met. So fucking what??!!! Does this make me less of a human being? Am I worth less as a person because I am overweight? Does this make my husband or my family love me anyless? Am I less worthy of that love because my pants size is larger now?? I don't think so and if anyone thinks I should, well, fuck you too.

I will not let a number on a scale, regardless of how high or low that number is, determine my worth as a person. So what if I don't have six pack abs or a tight ass that looks great in size 6 jeans? I like who I am inside and if anyone can't see past a few extra pounds to see the wonderful person I am inside, then they aren't worth my time or trouble.

That's me weighing in on not weighing in. Opinions anyone?

Dog Magnet

I know I've already mentioned how S. came to be with us. What I didn't mention is that apparently our front porch is some kind of dog magnet. A few days before Thanksgiving last year, there was a very thin, medium-sized black dog running around the neighborhood. A couple of our neighbors thought it might be S. and came to tell us about it. But S. was quietly laying in the living room where N. was using her as a step to climb up on the couch. Have I mentioned we have dumb dogs?

Anyway, sure enough, as soon as night fell, guess where this poor skinny black dog went to find some shelter? Yep, our front porch. This, of course, had our dogs in an uproar. I tried to get the dog to come to me and she would come close enough to smell me but would not let me touch her. She had a collar with a rabies tag on it. I got close enough to read the number off of it and went to the county website to see if I could find the owner using the tag number. It said the collar was for a black sharpei. The face of the dog looked like a sharpei but it was so skinny, there wasn't a wrinkle anywhere on this dog. I got a name and phone number. I called and asked if they had lost a dog but they said no. The dog would eat but wouldn't let us get close enough to help it. The one time I was almost able to grab her collar, she snapped at me. Unfortunately, there was nothing else we could do for her so we called Animal Control and they came to get her.

Now I'm not exactly what you'd call a dog lover, but I did grow up with dogs and have always liked dogs way more than cats. I think I just have enough to do and take care of so dogs have taken a waaaaaaaaay back seat in my life. I did feel bad that we couldn't help this dog though. It's a shame to see an animal in such poor shape. Which brings us to last night.

We had just put J. to bed and D was watching N. put together a new puzzle in the dining room (50 pieces, recommended for ages 4 to 7 and she did it in about 20 minutes - pretty good for a little girl that just turned 3, even if I do say so myself). I was relaxing for a few minutes playing freecell on the computer in the office at the back of the house. Not very relaxing though because I am actually very good at freecell and this one game had me stumped for a while. I finally figured it out but it took me 4 tries, very frustrating. (It's game #20547 if anyone is good at freecell and wants to try it, let me know how you do with it, it's tricky).

Anyway, D. came to the office and said, "you'll never guess what's on the front porch." I'm a terrible guesser so I just asked what. He said, "a dog". ~CRAP~ I thought, thinking there is no way we're keeping another dog. The dog had run off the front porch when D. went out there and wouldn't come to him. I went out to have a look and saw the dog near the end of our driveway looking at us. I took a couple of steps forward and said, "come here, baby". That dog came running at me full speed like I was it's long lost best friend. It was a big shaggy dog like the one in the disney movie. She was soaking wet and wanting to jump all over me. Luckily, she was wearing a collar. I got the phone number off the collar and told D. to call. The owner sounded relieved and only lived a few blocks away so he said he'd be right over. Meanwhile, I grabbed a dog towel and dried her off and gave her a biscuit.

A. wandered out to see what the commotion was. When we told him what was going on, he said, "maybe they'll give you a reward for finding her and calling them". Not likely, I thought, even though their address is in a community of million dollar homes. The owner came a few minutes later and we handed her over. He said, "She does this all the time, we don't know what to do." I said, "You need to be careful, this is a busy street, she could get run over." He said, "Oh yeah, she already got hit by a car once, we had to take her to the animal hospital and everything". As I stood their dumbstruck by the idiocy of some people, he took the dog and went to his car with a vague wave of "thanks". As I said, I'm not a huge dog fan, but even I was questioning the wisdom of giving the dog back to that moron. I just hope I don't someday see that poor dog lying on the side of the road somewhere because this idiot is too stupid to keep his dog safe.

Meanwhile, any ideas on how to dog magnetize our front porch? I'm afraid D. might want to keep the next dog that comes along since T. is getting old and may not be around for much longer. Personally, I think one dog is plenty. Any thoughts?

What color is your brain?

I just had to throw this in here just for fun since the other post I've been working on was a bit heavy. This describes me pretty accurately. Try it and let me know how it describes you.

What Color is Your Brain?

BLUE:

At work or in school: I like to be with people, sharing with them, inspiring them, and helping them. I work and learn best when I can take into consideration people and the human element. I flourish in an atmosphere of cooperation.
With friends: I always look for perfect love. I am very romantic, and I enjoy doing thoughtful things for others. I am affectionate, supportive and a good listener.
With family: I like to be happy and loving. I am very sensitive to rejection from my family and to family conflicts. I really like to be well thought of and need frequent reassurance. I love intimate talks and warm feelings.
Take this quiz!








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39 and holding........

On Saturday I turned 39 years old. Now, generally, getting older doesn't bother me. I mean age is just a number after all. I sailed peacefully from my tumultuous 20's into my 30's with nary a second thought. Actually, I've found that I like myself much better in my 30's than I did in my 20's. Not that I was a bad person in my 20's [of course ;-)] but it's just that I am more content and confident in myself and my place in the world in my 30's than I was in my 20's. Then there's that whole "reaching your sexual peak in your 30's" thing which was quite surprising and wonderful. All in all, the 30's have been pretty good for me.

Now I find myself on the cusp of 40 and I can't help but wonder what lies ahead. I guess the realization that, given the current life expectancy for women in this country, I am roughly at MIDLIFE has finally hit me. YIKES!!! How did that happen? Didn't I just get my driver's license a few years ago? Wasn't high school last year? Didn't I put A. in his crib as a tiny baby just yesterday? Where did the years go?

The reality is that I got my driver's license more than 22 years ago, high school was over 20 years ago, and A., who at 16 & 1/2 towers over me at around 6 feet tall, hasn't been a tiny baby in a long time. This was brought home to me yesterday as he drove me around the neighborhood in practice for getting HIS driver's license.

Life is so different for me right now than I imagined it would be as I approach 40. Years ago I thought, "OK, when I get to 40 A. will be almost 18 and almost done with high school and once he goes to college, I can go out and enjoy life, travel, etc. because I will be done with raising my child. Ahhhh, freedom." I was this [ ]close. The reality as I approach 40: at least 16 more years of raising children.

What happened to all my grandiose plans of travel and freedom? Where did I go wrong? I guess the truth is that I don't feel like I went wrong so much as I feel life threw me a curve I wasn't expecting. At 34 years old I met and fell in love with a wonderful man who at 38, had never been married and didn't have any children. But wanted them. So here I am, almost 5 years later, with 2 very young children that most likely won't be out of the house until sometime in the 2020's. Freedom? Not so much.

I guess a small part of me worries too. Is this really midlife for me? I hope so. Given that my parents died way too young, I sincerely hope that 39 is only midlife for me. My dad died at age 47, just before I turned 21. My mom died at age 53, exactly a month after I turned 25. WAY TOO YOUNG.

So I worry, what will happen to my little ones if I suddenly drop dead of a heart attack at 53 like my mother did? My little ones would be 17 and 15, much too young to be left motherless. Heck, I still sometimes feel like I need my mother. It was especially hard being pregnant without my mother around when I had my last 2 children, since she had been such a resource and comfort when my oldest was born.

I miss her the most around my birthday. She always made such a big deal about birthdays in general and my birthday in particular. I think it's because my birthday was such a miracle to her. She had a severe case of pre-ec!ampsia when she had my older brother. She had a rough time delivering him and went into convulsions on the delivery table. She also hemorraged and almost died. Her doctor told her not to have any more children because if she did, she would not survive the delivery. SO she was careful (although thankfully I never got the details of what that involved*), but found herself pregnant close to 2 years later. The doctor wanted to schedule her for an abortion. She refused. She said that if she got pregnant despite precautions, then somehow God meant for her to have this baby.

So the day she went into labor, she didn't tell anyone at first. She cleaned her house, did all the laundry, and then packed all her belongings away in boxes. She believed the doctor when he said she wouldn't survive the delivery and didn't want her family to have to go through her things when she was gone. She waited until the last minute to go to the hospital. She got there at 6:45pm and I was born at 7:15pm breech, all 8lbs 4 oz of me. OUCH!!

She said I didn't cry at first and she asked the nurse what she had since in those days the sex was always a surprise. The nurse looked over and said, "It's a girl but she's dead". My mom fainted. When she came to, the doctor asked if she wanted to see her daughter. She said, "why? she's dead." The doctor said, "Oh no she isn't" and put me on her chest for her to see me. My mom always said that was the happiest moment in her life. God, I miss her!!! But I'm grateful for the 25 years I had her in my life and to her for the gift of life. It's kind of ironic that I was the only person that was with both my parents when they died. Maybe mom was right and God meant for her to have me. I'm just glad I was there, even though it was hard, so they weren't alone in their final moments on earth.

I don't know what life has in store for me as I approach the 2nd half of my life, but I look forward to finding out. Will these children that I didn't expect to have this late in life be my comfort in my final hours? Will just having them around keep me younger than I would have felt otherwise or will they be the cause of even MORE gray hair? LOL. I guess I'll just have to wait and see.

What about you? How has your life so far been different from what you imagined it to be? What unexpected curves has life thrown you?

*This was in the early days of the pill so I never asked if she was on the pill or what exactly they did for birth control. I mean, who wants to know ANY details of their parents sex life, kwim??

Life -- or something like it

I've been trying to get on here to post for 2 days now and haven't managed to get here until now. Originally, I was going to post about how my sweet little girl, N. turned 3 two days ago. I was going to tell you all about how smart, irritating, loving, aggravating, sweet, frustrating, beautiful, stubborn, and wonderful she is. She is definitely all those things and more and she had a wonderful birthday and fun birthday party but the detail on all that will have to wait for another time.

Today, I will blog about LIFE --- or something like it. See, it turns out my 89-year-old grandmother is in the hospital again. She is in ICU with double pneumonia, her blood pressure is being propped up with medication, she has a pacemaker and a feeding tube. She also has senile dementia (like alzhe!mers but slower progression) and has no idea where she is, what year it is, or who the people visiting her are, including me. She talks a little bit but it's hard to understand her because about a year ago, on another trip to the hospital, someone lost her teeth. So, she lays there day after day, connected to tubes looking up at the ceiling not knowing what is going on.

I did not agree with the decisions that were made to put a pacemaker on her and I vehemently disagreed with the decision to put a feeding tube in. But, it wasn't my decision to make. My grandfather, who died almost 2 years ago, left a distant cousin as guardian for him and my grandmother. So any decisions that were made, were made by him. Now, I understand that without the pacemaker and feeding tube, my grandmother would not still be alive, and that's painful for me. I love my grandmother. She and my grandfather helped raise me from the time I was 10 and I lived with them or they lived with me off and on (but mostly on) for almost 25 years.

But the reality is that I lost my grandmother a LONG time ago, when senile dementia took her from me. The sweet woman who soothed my boo-boos with "sana sana"* and taught me how to mend socks and make "arr0s con leche" is gone. What is left now is a shell that is suffering and confused and in pain. It pains me to see her this way. I wish she didn't have to continue to suffer this way. Now don't get me wrong, I do not support euthanasia mostly because I feel the potential for abuse of it is too high. But, dear God, why do we prolong people's pain and suffering with extraordinary measures? If she didn't have the pacemaker and feeding tube, she wouldn't still be here suffering like this.

And I'm MAD. Mad at my grandfather for leaving his cousin in charge, mad at his cousin for making decisions that only prolong my grandmothers agony, mad at God for taking her mind and taking her away from me, mad at myself because I can do nothing to help her.

Personally, I have made it clear to everyone in my family exactly what I want done if something ever happens to me and there is no hope of a meaningful recovery. I also have a living will that details what I want. If I get to the point where extraordinary measures have to be taken to keep me alive and there is no hope for a meaningful recovery**, then I don't want a respirator, a feeding tube or even an IV bag. Just let me go. I have a better place waiting for me. I have no idea what any one else's beliefs are but I'm a big believer in destiny. I think the Big Man Upstairs turns the page in His book and when your name is there and it's time for you to go, you should go.

When He turns the page for me and my name is there, I want it to be the first time in my entire existance that I am ON TIME.***

Lessons here:
1) Have a living will!!!
2) Tell everyone what you want done or not done.
3) Be SPECIFIC!!!
4) Make ALL your doctors aware of your living will and your wishes.
5) Keep it handy especially if you go to the hospital or ER for anything.

Now go out there and live your lives to the fullest. Hug your parents (grandparents too if you still have them), hug your children, tell the people you love that you love them, even if they just made you so mad you could spit. Don't waste the chances you have in life to tell people you care!!!

Adios, Abuela!! Te amo!!



*"sana-sana" - a silly little rhyme in spanish about making something heal

**by meaningful recovery I mean some semblance of a normal life. Some loss of function I could live with, but I'd want to at least eat, talk making sense at least most of the time, live without too much pain, etc.

***I'm latin, so being on time is almost genetically impossible, just ask D.

Maybe not so dumb after all

I got a phone call yesterday from a detective at our local police department about our debit card situation. Detective Would-Like-To-Help-But-Can't says that there isn't much they can do to catch or stop this person. I'll give you a quick rundown of why:

The credit report thing - they can't PROVE who was actually AT the keyboard requesting the reports.

The electric bill thing - my bank will eventually refund my money to me for this so technically the electric company is the ultimate victim since they are the ones that will be out the money when the bank reverses those charges. Unfortunately, the electric company will just write this off as a loss according to Detective WLTHBC and generally do not cooperate with the police to investigate this kind of thing. So apparently, this person could theoretically do this with a different stolen credit card number every month and never get caught. (And I thought they were dumb!! Maybe those of us who actually PAY OUR BILLS are the dumb ones).

The diet pill thing - not Detective WLTHBC's jurisdiction and even if it was, it's a misdemeanor so no one is going to bother.

The distributing company thing - didn't involve the US Postal Service so nothing can be done there either. If it HAD involved something being sent to her through the regular mail, THEN she could have been prosecuted for mail fraud. THAT she could have gone to jail for. Go figure.

Oh well, guess the bitch gets away with it. All I can do now is send her an anonymous email telling her what a fucking low-life, scum she is and perhaps mention that the police know who she is and may be coming after her skanky ass. It won't change anything but it'll make me feel better about the whole thing.

By the way, I woke up with a killer sore throat and sound like I swallowed a frog. This is so not a good day to feel this way. N.'s 3rd bithday party is on Sunday and I need to go out and order the cake and food today as well as get the stuff for the goodie bags. Heck, maybe I'll just stay in bed all day and try to get better and just have D. go get everything done on Saturday ---- YEAH, RIGHT, like that's ever going to happen. LOL.

America's Dumbest Criminals!!!!!

Thursday morning, D. calls me from work and says he was going over the checking account. I roll my eyes at the phone expecting another one of those "where does all the money go?" conversations. You know the kind, where he asks why I've spent close to $500 at the grocery store in the last few weeks and I go on to explain all about the cost of diapers and meat and fresh produce and when all else fails, I fall back on sarcasm and explain that "I just had to have that cute little 4 pack of paper towels because they were just oh-so-cute with the little froggies and fish on them". Then of course, there is my addiction to toilet paper, which he seems to think we use way too much of. ~eyes rolling again~ I mean, hello, I'm a girl and I'm home most of the time which means frequent trips to the restroom and anything I do that involves the toilet, requires toilet paper. Soorrrrr- rreeee! But for once this conversation wasn't our normal, "where did all the money go?" talk. This time there was a problem.

It seems that there were some charges for a credit reporting website, some kind of bill paying website, and some pharmaceutical company. So, D. asked if I knew anything about them. Nope, sure didn't, but I called the bank to find out what they were. Turns out that these items were charges on our debit mas-tercard. We have only had these cards for a few weeks because the bank just re-issued them to us because they had some sort of security breech. I was told they would flag our account as possible fraud and I needed to call the individual companies to try to resolve it, then call the bank back if I needed to cancel the cards and new ones re-issued.

So, I called the credit reporting place first. There were 3 charges total. Two for $24.95 each and one for $5. Turns out that a Geneva Houston and Lakesha Houston (names not changed because there are no innocent to protect in my humble opinion) had used our mas-tercard number to check their credit reports and Geneva was so concerned that she upgraded to a monthly monitoring service for hers. Ain't that a kick in the shorts?!!! She uses a STOLEN credit card number to keep track of her precious credit. B!TCH!!!!! Oh, and of course, this company won't refund my money until I write a letter to them and include a copy of a police report. Nice, huh? They'll take anyone's credit card number regardless of whether the billing information matches anything but to get the money back, I have to jump through hoops. Great.

So, then I call the bill paying service which it turns out they used to pay their electric bill. This time they hit us for $184.95. This company would not give me any information at all. I was told they would work with my bank or with the police if they had to but they couldn't tell me anything at all. Well, that's not entirely true. They COULD give me information IF I knew the account number that was paid using my card. ~eyes rolling again~ Hello?? If it wasn't my account and I don't know who the hell the person that used my card number is, then how the fuck would I know the account number?!!! So, I moved on.

Finally, I called the pharmaceutical company. The customer service person I spoke to was actually NICE about the situation. What a difference from the other 2 people I talked to. This time, I hit the information jackpot. They ordered a $10.99 bottle of diet pills. BIG MISTAKE!! The customer service lady gave me the billing name they used, which was D.'s name transposed (they used his first name as the last name and the last name as the first name - and no, our last name would not be considered any kind of normal first name, but as I said at the top, these are America's dumbest criminals). She gave me the billing address, the mail to name and address, which was Lashayla Smith but the address just so happens to match the address I found on the internet for Lakesha. She also gave me the phone number and the email address. SCORE!!!!

So, I called our bank and had our cards cancelled and re-issued. Then I called our local police department and asked what I needed to do to report fraudulent activity involving our debit mas-tercard. They said, "oh, credit card fraud? We'll send an officer over right away to get your complaint". YAY!! So, I gave them all the information and now I just have to wait to hear from the detective. I hope they nail this B!TCH.

Friday, D. checked the account again and asked me if I'd ever heard of a a certain distributing company. I said, "no, should I have?" He said there's a charge of $49.29 on our account from them. CRAP!! Just when I thought it was over. Turns out the charge had been made the day before we discovered all the other stuff. I called the bank and let them know, then I called the company. After waiting on hold forever and speaking to some idiot who wouldn't listen just kept telling me he needed my account number before he could do anything, I finally got a supervisor on the line. We went back and forth a bit with her telling me she couldn't do anything until the bank contacted them and debited back the charges. Finally, I convinced her to just try to look up the account using the information I had gotten from the pharmaceutical company. Knowing that this "person" who used my card was dumb enough to most likely pay her HOME electric bill with it, I figured she'd be dumb enough to use the same alias or phone or email addy. Sure enough, they found it using the email addy. Turns out the package was out for delivery that day but hadn't been delivered yet. They called the delivery company and got the driver that had the package to return to the package. Yippee!!! Hope she waited all day for her delivery that never came. At least this time, getting a refund shouldn't be a problem. As soon as the package comes back to them, they will refund it to our account. Turns out this Lakesha had several accounts with them that had ALL been closed for fraud, and there were several other accounts using that email that were also closed for fraud. Some people never learn. Hope this ends up being her LESSON.

By the way, we're pretty sure we know where our credit card number was obtained. D. had gone to a local auto supply store and used his card to buy oil and a filter. This place doesn't have those little boxes where you swipe your own card and had handed the cashier his card. He remembers thinking it was a little odd that they still used that thing that makes an imprint of the card, but didn't think much of it at the time. That's the only place he remembers actually handing someone his card recently and since we've only had the cards for a few weeks, it wasn't too hard to track down. Hope they nail whoever works at that store that started this whole mess.

It's been a definite hassle and took alot of phones calls and still isn't completely resolved but I'm hoping we've seen the last of this. Moral of the story - WATCH your credit cards, don't let them out of your sight, destroy all carbon copies of your cards, and CHECK your bank accounts everyday for possible fraudulent activity. End of lecture, have a nice day. I'll update you with further developements. Hey, maybe I'll even post a mug shot when they nail this B!TCH.

Doggoneit!!!!!!!!!!!!

Did I mention we have 2 dogs??? Well, if this one dog keeps this up that may change. I suppose I should explain the dogs first and then I'll tell you what "this" is.
Dog #1 whom I'll call T. was D.'s dog before we got together, so I suppose you could say she was grandfathered in. She's a 12 year old pure bred Beagle who was blind in one eye when I met her. She had cataracts as a fairly young dog and D. had paid to have surgery done on one of her eyes figuring at over $1000 an eye, the dog could make due with seeing out of just the one eye. She is now blind in both eyes so it's not so amusing now when she runs into things like it used to be. This is seriously not the smartest dog in existance. Plus she has behavior problems. For instance, we can't have carpet in the house or even area rugs because she thinks anything soft on the floor serves the same purpose as grass. I'm sure you know what I mean by this. Also, she pukes anywhere and everywhere although it's usually on the couch (isn't that attractive?) or on the baby's playmat. She will also occasionally snap at me or the kids if we startle her or try to make her do something she doesn't like. She's never bitten precisely but has definitely put her teeth on us. Oh yeah, and before we leave the house we have to make sure the bedroom doors are closed so she can't go in there because she has occasionally used the beds for the same purpose as the rugs, if you know what I mean. (Gross, more on that later).All of which does not endear me to this dog in the least, but as I said, she was grandfathered in so I can't really do much about her. Yet.
Dog #2, S. just showed up on our doorstep one night, literally. I came home and as I pulled in the driveway, I saw a black dog on the front lawn. As I came around the car to go in the house, she bounded right up to the front porch and sat down on the welcome mat. As far as we can tell, she is part black lab and something smaller. She looks like a lab but is far shorter than any lab I know. She was in horrible shape when she showed up. She was so skinny you could see every rib, she was full of ticks and worms and had a bald spot on her rump that about six inches round. We fed her that night and took her to the vet in the morning. We spent close to $300 having her dipped and de-wormed and buying antibiotics for the skin infection. We kept her in the porch at first until all her medical issues resolved. We put an ad in the paper and flyers up to try to find her owner, to no avail. Someone had obviously spent some time training her because she would sit and shake on command. She is amazingly good with the kids. She will let my daughter, N. lay all over her, even lets her pretend she's her baby and cover her with a blanket. All in all very affectionate and a great dog, just something of a picky eater.
So, back to T. and what "this" is. Yesterday, I was getting ready to take the kids to M*mmy and me class. I was running around trying to get everyone ready to go, dumping the basket of unfolded laundry onto the bed to find socks that matched, reminding N. to go potty before we left, grabbing snack and drinks for the diaper bag, you know the usual hoops we all jump through trying to get out of the house with 2 toddlers. So, in the midst of all that chaos, I chased T. out of the bedroom and closed the door. Shortly thereafter, N. ran back into the bedroom for something and closed the door behind her and we left the house. Unfortunately, T. had followed her back into the bedroom. (You can see where this is headed, can't you?).
We got home a couple of hours of later and I put the kids down for a nap. While they were napping I checked my email and a few blogs I like to follow and eventually decided I should probably at least try to fold and put away the laundry I had dumped all over the bed earlier. So, there I am folding laundry, when I get a whiff of something very unpleasant. I sniff the shirt I'm folding but that's not it. I pick up a pair of shorts and they feel damp. ~oh crap~ I think. So I start feeling around the bed and sure enough I find the source of the dampness. T. had peed on the bed. But no, not just on the bed, but on the clothes, the bed and on the PILLOWS!! Huge, disgusting, smelly mess!!!!
Now to understand just how bad this was, you have to know just a little about me. I love my pillows!!! I mean, I travel with my pillows, everywhere. OK, not like I carry them around like L!nus or something but if I am staying overnight somewhere, my pillows go with me. They are comfortable and they fit my head and I can hug my pillows just right and well, you know what I mean. Don't you? Alright, I guess I might be a little neurotic about my pillows but I have very few neurosis so I think this is a rather harmless one in general. UNTIL NOW. See now my pillows are drenched in dog piss. Needless to say, you can't really wash pillows. Personally, I would just sew a new cover on my pillows about twice a year and that worked out pretty well. But THIS TIME, there was no saving the pillows. So, for the first time in let's just say this century (although it's far longer than that), I had to go out and buy new pillows last night.
I HATED IT!! None of the pillows felt "just right", they are too puffy or too soft or too NOT MY PILLOW. I hate to admit it but I actually cried as I bagged up the pillows to throw them out. So. I bravely picked out some new pillows and went home and dressed the bed and put pillowcases on my new pillows and laid them on the bed. UGH!! They didn't look right, they didn't feel right, I didn't sleep well on them and I woke up with a major headache. So, T. better just watch it because if she EVER does "this" again, she's outta here, grandfathered in or not.
By the way, anyone got any good ideas on how to break in pillows? I like a kinda flat sturdy pillow so I need to figure out how to un-poof these pillows. Any suggestions?
Thanks.