Officially Technological

I think I should have been a cook. Not that I'm even remotely good at cooking (to date I have never made good rice - I've even screwed up instant rice), but I love to cook. Every morning I get up and first things first - I pack lunches. This is one of my favorite times of day. Sam's still in bed, Brian's up and about and I get "creative" (read: weird) with the leftovers. This morning for example, Brian had made an incredible pork tenderloin the other evening (Brian, on the other hand is a good cook), and I shredded the leftovers, squeezed in BBQ sauce, and put it in a sandwich. Anyway, I love making the making lunches part of my day.

But even more fun is the dinner making part of my day. Brian and I get home about 30 minutes apart, and he takes Sam out, throws together a salad or potatoes or something, insert laughs, mail sorting, and dishes, and viola! Dinner! I love making dinner. It's especially fun when you and the person(s) that you're making dinner for (and with) like the same things. For an example no matter what I make, some variety of cheese is added. Last week I made my special double cheese and spinach chicken. Tonight I'm going to makes cheesy chicken enchiladas. Yes, even though almost everything I make is either under or over cooked, I love to cook.

Isn't that a travesty? I cook all the time, and yet my muffins are lumping, my breakfast strata is runny, my rice is burnt to the pan, and my potatoes are bland. Incredible. But, with Brian and I being on first shift now, I'm certainly getting a lot of practice, so maybe some day....

The next thing I want to learn is Chex-mix. I love Chex-mix.

Well, Brian and I had a wonderful and relaxing weekend in Michigan. Most of the weekend was spent on the couch with snacks, and movies and cable TV, and a fire, and snow fluttering down. It was gorgeous. When we got bored with sitting there, we would casually go out to dinner, or go swimming at the club-house. It was beautiful.

But then we came back to Indiana. We got back. Late. Cranky. And had to go straight to bed, because Brian got switched to days, and I'm on days and we were both needing to get up in about 6 hours. When our alarm clock went off, Brian immediately turned on his light. Not nice. So, we got up and started our day. At first it looked like a perfectly normal and pleasant day. There's fresh snow. I was ready in time. But then my dog refused to go to the bathroom (he doesn't like winter), which was irritating, because when he doesn't go to the bathroom he has to be in his kennel until we come back from work and can take him out again. So, I stayed outside with him (way too long) because I wanted him to not have to sit in his kennel all day. Then I was running late. So, I grabbed my lunch, grabbed my purse, and headed out the door and to my car... which wouldn't start. So, since Brian was already at work, I called my brother, Jeff, who said he'd come over, but needed a shower first. So, I was sitting in my cold car, waiting for Jeff, and I called my mom, who seemed to be in a hurry and told me to try it again. So, I did, and it finally turned over and started. Jerk car. So, I made it to work 10 minutes late. Not late enough to be late. Just late enough to make my day feel 10 minutes off all day.

So, I'm trying to readjust my attitude. I need to because I'm feeling very tired, and my eyes hurt (no doubt from the light incident this morning - which Brian will get teased about later ;) ), and I'm ten minutes late. So, now that it's lunch time I'm going to take a deep breath, and try to restart my day.

Welcome back to Indiana.

Today is my birthday (how's that for a shameless plug?). Tonight Brian and I are driving up to Manistee, MI for a long weekend. Ahhhh!.... I can feel my muscles relaxing just thinking about it. For those of you who don't know, I just got a new job (on 1st shift), and Brian just got promoted (and moved to 1st shift). Which - is wonderful. However, we had three weeks of overlap, where I worked first shift (9-5) and he worked 2nd shift (2-11ish). So, we wouldn't have seen each other - ever - unless one of us interrupted our sleeping schedule. So, for three weeks now, I've been going to bed at 8:30ish for a few hours, and Brian would wake me when he got home, and we'd hang out for a couple of hours, then I'd sleep for a few more hours and wake up and go to work. Well, needless to say, my body hates me. Last night was Brian's last 2nd shift (Yahhhhh!), and Monday is his first 1st shift and sandwiched in the middle is a long weekend at Brian's uncle's lake "cottage" where there is a fireplace, Quiddler, an indoor pool, cinnamon rolls, and more than likely... snow. Ahhhhhh!

According to the Dog Whisperer, my 10-year-old puppy, Sam has been spoiled and is in need of rehabilitation. It turns out that according to this dog trainer guy, Sam doesn't obey Brian and I because he has not recognized us as the "leader" of his "pack". Apparently it's important for dogs to know their standing in the pack, and if they don't know their standing in the pack, they will assume that they are the leader.

As any of you who know Sammers can testify, Sam obviously thinks that he's the head of our pack. What he doesn't realize is that not only is he not the head of our pack, he as at the opposite end. So, the dog whisperer would say that he need 3 things to get him back on track.

1. Exercise (can you believe the first need of a dog is not affection??)
2. Discipline
3. Love

In that order. So, according to this dude, dogs neither expect now want love until they have first been exercised and then disciplined. Weird. I'm so accustom to walking in the door from work and exclaiming, "Sambo!!!!! How was your day you sweet, sweet puppy??" *pat pat pat* Turns out that's not what how you're supposed to greet your dog when you come into the house. This dog guy also says that to tell your dog that you are the pack leader you're supposed to never let the dog out of the house in front of you, let the dog enter the house before you, or let the dog walk in front of you.

So, I took the guy's advice, and I have to say, either Sam is sick, or he's getting it, because he was as docile as a kitten last night. He even left me alone while I ate at the coffee table. He just sat about 5 feet away and didn't whimper or anything. So, I think this dog guy is on to something here. I'll have to let you know how it goes with Sam's rehabilitation.

When I worked at Brown Mackie (which seems like ages ago now, but was really less than a month ago), I always checked my email and did stuff in the teacher's lounge. It was a little noisy, and the printer was a little slowish, but my half cube didn't even have a printer networked to it. So, I sat in the teacher's lounge every day about the same time that the librarian took his afternoon break - which he too spent in the lounge. The problem with the librarian (besides the inexplicable creepiness he exuded) was that he ate carrots. Not clean, packaged carrots, cut into baby carrots. Oh no, he ate carrots. As in, the whole carrot. The whole - just pulled from the garden - carrot. He ate these carrots much like Bugs Bunny (when he was actually eating them - not mowing them). He kinda munched on them. Loudly. Cleaned his teeth with a slurp. Munch. Munch. Munch. Slurp. This wasn't really that noticable when the teacher's lounge was full, but on the occasion when it was just me and the carrot guy, the munching and consequent slurping seemed to be the only sound in the world.

I had forgotten about the librarian's carrot habit. Until today, when I pulled out my baby carrots (cleaned and packaged) for lunch. At the time, no one in the office had a radio playing nor was anyone talking on the phone, and everytime I ate a carrot and heard myself munch, munch, munch, slurp, I wanted to crawl under my desk. So, I tried to chew really slowly, but then, it just prolonged the agony and sounded more like moooo-uuuuunch, moooo-uuuuunch, moooo-uuuuunch, slurp. That didn't work. So, then I tried to chew really fast and just get it over with. But then it sound like MunchMunchMunchMunchMunch, slurp. That wasn't very useful either, so I tried to shorten the slurp. Which sounded like Munch, Munch Munch slurp. Which didn't leave my teeth very clean. Slurp. Slurp. So, now I have the notion that I must be becoming the carrot girl of Transformations. No matter how you eat a carrot, it's going to be obnoxious. There's just no getting around it. So, next time I pack my lunch I will include quiet veggies (not sure what a "quiet" veggie is - probably something like cooked peas). Maybe cucumbers. But celery's out. Broccoli’s gross. Cauliflower is crunchy too... What a quandary.