The Squirrel Chronicles

Weddings.

THEY SUCK!

I am packing my bags for an all inclusive St. Lucia wedding at the Sandals Resort.
And I am NOT coming back.

Last night my phone rang. I was already settled in, watching Bo Bice's performance on American Idol. (not quite as inspiring as past weeks, but good, nonetheless) I considered not answering the phone, but the caller ID said 'Jena"
Yay! Since my friend has had her baby, I take every opportunity to talk to her, as she is sleep deprived and no longer wants to talk on the phone at night.
So I MUTED American Idol, and answered the phone. Jena excitedly said to me 'Listen to this!!", at which point I heard adorable little baby sounds, that are quite possibly the most sweetest little sounds on earth. I switched the phone to speaker phone so Juan could partake in the heart stopping adorable-ness of the moment.
I said 'Oh Jena, that is so cute! What is she doing?"
Jena replies "Nursing!"

I must say, there is something slightly unnerving about knowing your best friend's boob is hanging out of her shirt while she is on the phone with you.
Last week, my friend Catherine called and caught me in the shower, but that is different! There was not a gurgling infant attached to my breast, expressing it's ultimate satisfaction with sighs and whimpers of happiness.
Anyway, I'm over it now. Jena has a new role as Mommy, and if that means talking on the phone while her womanly bosom is exposed, well, I take comfort in the fact that I do not have a video phone.

A few weeks ago, when it was still cold out, the squirrel was still living in my ceiling. The squirrel had me convinced that it was the Donald Trump of all rodents. He scratched and pulled and thudded well into each night. I could only assume he was in the midst of overseeing the construction of Atlantic City for Rodents in my living room ceiling. A heavenly, warm place where all rodents, of all shapes and sizes could come and spend the winter, nesting in insulation and chewing electrical wire. FOR FREE!
Anyway, one night I was doing the dishes and i heard a suspicious rustling sound coming from the cupboard. Although this sound was suspicious, it was certainly not unfamiliar, as the squirrels had been getting under my sink for quite some time, and chewing through myrecycle bin. (Which, by the way is CLEAN recycling. Everything is rinsed out before I stick it in the bin) I opened the cupboard door and found myself face to face with the offender. He ran away before I screamed.
Again, there was thudding and scratching and some unintelligible rodent cursing, I'm sure, in the cupboards before it moved back to the ceiling. Where it continued it's construction work.
I went to work the next day. I unassumingy came home and made my DAILY mad dash to the bathroom (this is a race against TIME and my unbelievably TINY bladder.) Once relieved, i made my way to the kitchen, and found THIS.
My cupboard door WIDE OPEN and my trash was pulled INTO the cupboard. The trash was originally placed near the front door, where I leave it to take it out with me in the mornings. I didn't take it out this particular morning because I had too much crap to take with me to work. So you can imagine my shock that this rodent had dragged my trash bag 20 feet!!! And tried to pull it under the sink with him! This animal OBVIOUSLY has no spatial OR perceptual skills.
I called the landlord and the maintenance guys boarded up the gaping hole under my sink. What a freaking relief.

You're not a nymphomaniac, are you?

Thursday night Juan and I went out to celebrate my new cancer free state. He was hungry and I was ready for a drink! I don't drink that much anymore, as Juan is not a drinker, and I have few reasons to sit around by myself and get loaded. As a result, my tolerance has gone WAY down. I am officially a "cheap date". The last time I wore the title of "cheap date" was my freshman year of college, where I was initiated into alcohol with a game of Asshole and a terrible mixture of Sprite and Peppermint Schnapps. (silent shudder) It only took a 6 oz dixie cup to transform me into a bumbling mess of giggles and stumbles.
Back to Thursday night. I ordered a drink called Raspberry Lemonade Icetini. I wish I had brought my camera with me because it was LITERALLY as big as my head. I drank that sucker in a half hour and practically passed out in the car. (I was NOT driving)
As it has been 4 years since my graduation from college, I remembered the #1 Rule of drinking, but was so tired I did not heed it.
I didn't drink any water before bed.
I woke up the next morning and my eyelids were glued shut.
Ugh. Now I remember why that is SO FREAKING important.

Tonight we celebrated Unce Mark's 50th birthday. My mom made peppercorn pork loin , carrots au gratin and garlic roasted potatoes. We had chocolate raspberry cake for dessert from the bakery. After dinner we entertained ourselves by watching family videos. When that got boring, Matt crawled inside this expanding ball. He pretended he was in an egg. Matt is my sister's boyfriend. That girl in the picture is my sister Eileen. She is super cute.

My uncle mark is visiting from out of town for his 50th Birthday Tour.
When I turn 50, I want to go on a birthday tour. Why wait? Maybe when i turn 26, I will take a birthday tour.
Anyway, we had dinner to celebrate his arrival. My mom made stuffed shells and salad and garlic bread and garlic zucchini. I was in charge of dessert. I had to ASK to be in charge of dessert because nobody in my family believes that I can cook. My mom tentatively agreed to allow me to bring dessert. But when I got there, she already had 3 boxes of exciting things from the bakery down the road. I was peeved, but she assured me they were for the weekend. So anyway, I made Death by Chocolate Cake. It is so amazingly moist and bad for you. Everyone loved it, but nobody believed I made it. They thought Juan did it. Here is how the conversation went:

Me: 'Isn't my cake deliciously fabulous and moist? Please validate me and my culinary skills"
Mom "Good job Juan"
Me: JUAN DIDNT MAKE IT!
Mom: How did you make it Juan?
Dad: Great cake Juan
Me: JUAN DIDN"T MAKE IT!
Sister: What is that brown stuff on top??
Brother: Poop
Me: IT IS CHOCOLATE GLAZE FROM SCRATCH!!!! AND I MADE IT!!!!!

My friend Meghan in very crafty. So crafty, in fact, that I believe she has a liiiitttlle too much time on her hands. Due to over 15 years of friendship (Oh my god, FIFTEEN YEARS, I can say I have known someone for FIFTEEN YEARS. We are old, nut) we have adapted quirky nicknames for eachother, the story of which I will not share, as it is only important for me and Meghan. Our nicknames are Liznut and Megnut.
2 years ago the Nuts went on a Cape Cod adventure where we ate, drank and sunned our way through that adorable little peninisula. On one of the first days we were there, pasty Liznut made a DUMB DUMB mistake. I forgot to put sunscreen on my lower back and behind my knees. Oh yes, I STILL bare the scars of thse third degree sunburns.
So here is Megnut's rendition of Nuts in Paradise. Note the thoughtful addition of a sandollar beach (my favorite) and a necessary bottle of suntan lotion. She actually went to the store and bought ONE walnut in order to complete her project.
So here is a salute to my craftiest (and oldest) friend. Your craftiness is now exposed to the world!!!

Today I went to the doctor. He is not just any doctor, he is my thyroid surgeon. 6 and a half years ago he removed my entire thyroid and 14 cancer-ridden lymph nodes. Since then I have enjoyed a radiation treatment, several body scans (too many to count) and a couple of 3 week segments when I was required to go off of the medication that keeps me alive. This involves extreme fatigue and weight gain, as well as a general desire to dive headlong into a pile of burning coals, as the body's thermoregulation goes to shit, and you become freezing cold at every moment of every day, and NOTHING makes it better. I wore 2 pairs of sweatpants, 3 of my dad's sweatshirts, 2 pairs of wool socks and a winter hat INSIDE for 2 weeks and all I did was complain I was cold.
Today my doctor told me I AM CURED OF CANCER.
CURED.
Of CANCER
My CANCER is CURED.
That means I don't have to worry about it coming back.

This has been such a long road, and I never thought I would feel this relieved. The idea of the cancer returning has not been an issue for 2 or 3 years, nor has it been something I have worried about or thought about frequently. But that never meant that I didn't think about it, or that it hasn;t affected my life in a big way. I think about it every morning at 6:30 am, when I take my medication. But hearing that I am CURED, that it is gone FOREVER, is just an unbelieveable feeling. It is so different to hear it officially from the mouth of someone I trust and respect.
I have bene on adrenaline rush since noon...you can still see my cheeks are pink in this picture. (I am NEVER pink, I am CHALKY)
I am such a lucky girl to have been supported by my wonderful family and friends for the past 6 years. Thank you to all of you who have been there and have stayed there. You are the best and I LOVE YOU.
Applause and congratulations are expected and accepted gratefully.

Juan is a person who is rarely surprised.
For example, if I wrap up a T-shirt in an alarm clock box, he knows it is a T-shirt in an alarm clock box, even before he removes the paper. I no longer allow him to shake his gifts before opening them. But it doesn't matter. He just has to look, ad then he says "That present is the DVD I have wanted for 2 years, and it is wrapped in a humidifier box because you want to suprise me." And he is ALWAYS right. At christmas time, I have to hide his presents until just before he opens them, because even if it is something hard to guess, he will figure it out, given enough time to stare at the wrapped package.
This is incredibly frustrating to me, because I am a peson who delights in surprising others.
But I got him today! I told him the meatballs I was making for dinner turned out terrible (they didn't--- they were really fabuolus), so I made him bacon and eggs. When he came over for dinner, I presented him with this plate. Look! It's CANDY!! hehhehe!!! hehehehe! He was SO surprised that he laughed out loud and immediately took a picture of it with his camera phone. I was delighted.
The bacon is made of coconut and the eggs are an orange cream in the middle, surrounded by an extremely sugary white substance. It was so hysterical. But I am still frustrated by the extremes I have to go to to surprise this man!

This is a photo that Juan took of me the other night when we went out with my sister Eileen and her boyfriend Matt. We went to a place called Starry Nights Cafe. It is one of those intellectual places with books all over. Except all their books are about van Gogh or Aliens. I found this lifesize alien and he snacked with us on Italian Soda and crumb cake. I think he was appreciative to spend some time in the cafe instead of folded up in the book, on the shelf. Eileen also grabbed his crotch. I suppose he was appreciative of that too. But I decided the photo was too explicit to post. He is, after all, naked.

Does anyone know how to post a link within the text of my post?? juan the computer genius couldn't figure it out. I am a computer jerk, and i CERTAINLY cant figure it out. I spent 2 hours yesterday trying to do it. I should have been writing reports for work...any help would be appreciated!
Now I am going to go make banana bread. It is the yummiest recipe made with vanilla pudding.

I hope y'all didn't think the squirrel stories were over. OH NO! I have enough to entertain you through summer!
So, at this early point in the spring, I continue to have squirrels living in my ceilings. About a month ago, ANOTHER squirrel moved into my apartment. It moved into my living room ceiling, which is made of plaster and is SEALED, thank god. So even if it dies, I'm pretty sure it won't SEEP on my furniture.
It made itself known to me one evening (AGAIN, while A.I. was on ). It started scratching away at the ceiling. I screamed at it "GO AWAY!!!! AMERICAN IDOL IS ON!"
It did not heed my warning, so I grabbed a broom and banged on the ceiling. (God knows I don't sweep, so that broom has to be good for SOMETHING) It quieted for 2 minutes or so and resumed it's repetetive scratching. I then shouted some expletives at the squirrel, who apparently is not as offended by the F word as Beverly, and continued scratching.
I consoled myself with the above statement concerning seepage, and decided NOT to call the landlord. It's a sealed ceiling, what could they do?
It scratched until about 10 pm, when Juan and I heard it scamper to the other side of the living room, and THEN we heard a LOUD TUMBLING sound. The damn thing had fallen from the ceiling down into the wall space. It was TRAPPED behing my baseboard, in a corner. And it was PISSED. I mean, mad. It scratched and scratched and scratched. It also made other strange sounds. It literally sounded like the squirrel had a stash of my size 10 sneakers back there and was THROWING them against the wall. I have NO IDEA what he could have POSSIBLY been doing, but he was PERSISTENT. I called my friend catherine and let her listen to the strange sounds. She was incredulous. She even blogged about it. You can see her post about it at
catherinefox.typepad.com
It is posted under "Desperate Phonecall"
And it WAS desperate. thats ucker was scratching so hard and fast I thought he was going to come flying through my wall at any moment. again, I couldn't call the landlord...what could they do? NOW the squirrel was SEALED in the wall!
Juan said it was very possible that the squirrel would chew a hole through the wall overnight and GET INTO my apartment. Juan is very good at comforting me, but he is also very good at being honest. I spent the night huddled under the covers. I closed and locked my bedroom door. I was convinced the squirrel could probably chew through mylock and get into my bedroom. I even refused to get out of bed at 2 am when I had to go to the bathroom. I could only imagine myself half asleep on the toilet at, and a RABID squirrel comes FLYING out at me. It was a little too much for me to take. My only logical conclusion was that the squirrel was rabid. What living creature could scratch for 6 or 7 straight hours?
When I woke up in the morning, I made a lot of noise before I left my bedroom, hoping that if it had chewed it's way in, that I could at least scare it into a corner and give myself some time to get the hell out of there. But there was no hole in the wall, and no more noise coming from the corner. I called the landlord. The maintenance man came over and checked the outside of the house, and found that the squirrel had CHEWED through the HOUSE. There was a HOLE outside where it escaped.
And this squirrel is NOT rabid????

# posted by lizzyjane @ 5:13 PM 1 comments

Today I found out that Beverly reads my blog. I don't know how frequently, but I would just like to say
'I'm Sorry for The Swearing"
I hope I didn't offend you. I didn't know you were reading. I will keep the f words to an absolute minimum. But the D word and the H word may slip out more frequently.........

Well, I had a most disturbing conversation yesterday with my friend Jena who just had a baby a week ago.
She sounded wonderful, and surprisingly well rested, as well as competely and totally in love with the 7 lb watermelon she forced out of her body 7 days ago.
I was informed of all the essential baby details..how often she is breast feeding, how much she is sleeping, and the regularity with which she expels said breast milk, in a variety of different forms.
And speaking of expelling, I was ALSO informed of the ingenious and DISGUSTING ways that a mother's body takes care of itself after childbirth. This includes bleeding for FOUR to SIX weeks. I can only assume that is Mother Nature's shout out: "You can't fool me! Did you SERIOUSLY think I was going to let you get away with NOT having a period for NINE months? Riigghhhhtttt."
Apparently, it is NORMAL and NATURAL to pass golf ball sized clots.
Jena has a good sense of humor about these things, but I am completely horrified, and I told her was going to blog about it. And I did. So all of you can share in my fear and horror.

CONGRATULATIONS to my friend CATHERINE!!!
Catherine got ENGAGED this morning!!!!
You can see her fabulous ring at
www.catherinefox.typepad.com

It is simple and elegant, just like her.
I think they are going out for Mexican to celebrate.

YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

at your wedding shower....

1) Do NOT choose every entree based solely on their dried basil and parsley factor. It is very difficult for guests to discreetly pick parsley from their teeth.

2) Do NOT have only one buffet line for 65 people.

3) Do NOT walk around and chit chat for 45 minutes following lunch and before opening gifts. It is senseless, wasted time.

4) Do NOT squeal with delight when you discover some tasteless person has bestowed you with a mechanical hamster dressed in a chicken outfit, which sings and dances to the "Chicken Dance". In addition, do NOT force the hamster to sing and dance everytime you open a new gift. It grates on the nerves of your guests.

5) Do NOT force your fiancee to sit at the front with you and pull tissue paper from the gift bags as you pull out the presents. It makes your fiancee look miserable and uncomfortable, and it makes the 65 women guests laugh at him from behind their napkins.

Tomorrow I have to go to a bridal shower that I REALLY don't want to go to. It involves people from high school I haven't seen in 8 years.
I spent more on my outfit than I did on the gift.
What I hate most about showers is making boring idle conversation with boring people. Like my friend catherine (catherinefox.typepad.com) says, it will probably go something like this:

"When are YOU getting married?"
Me: "Go fuck yourself"

I like to throw the f-word around to make the idle conversation less boring.
I also really hate running into people I used to know in high school, who find it important to get back in touch with me and "catch-up". They insist on exchanging phone numbers in order to get together for coffee and discuss the past 8 years in which we have both done so much growing we are no longer the same people that made us friendly at one time.

The reason my best friends are my best friends is because we grew TOGETHER. So Catherine, Christy, Jena and Meghan, I just want to remind you that I LOVE YOU and thank you for growing with me, and growing into people I will love and adore for the rest of my life.

So tomorrow I am going to wear my new outfit with confidence and class.
And drop the f-bomb at every opportunity.

I am an Irish lass. Well, half an irish lass. The rest of me is an Italian mama.
Anyway, today, I am posting an ode to my dad, who is the most Irish man alive. My dad is very intelligent, and spends a lot of time reading about history, and then coercing me to read the same books. I am more of a trashy novel type girl, so he wastes a lot of time. As a result, my dad knows EVERYTHING about Ireland...culture, history, language, economy, ecology, etc. He becomes very excitable and at times, bombastic when the topic of Ireland comes up in conversation.
Which brings us to Christmas of 2000, when my Italian cousin Char brought home her IRISH fiancee to Christmas dinner. His last name was O'Brien. Even better, BOTH his parents are IRISH! And they actually LIVE in the homeland! The moment my dad heard this information, the poor guy was in for it. He immediately found himself being bombarded with questions from my dad
'What county are your parents from?"
'What township?"
"What pub did your great great grandparents frequent while living there?'
"Yes, and about how many chickens and cows did they have on their farm?"
The best question comes next....
"What is your mother's maiden name?"
The answer, my friends, was HOARE.
Say this out loud to yourself.
Sounds like WHORE!!!!!
All the rest of us at the party held our breath...and my dad said (OUT LOUD):

"Oh yes! The Hoare's of Ireland!! I know them well!"

Here is my haircut!
I am also displaying dark under eye circles of astonishing proprortions.
No amount of cosmetics ever cover up my genetic makeup.
I had a lovely evening at the salon. We laughed our asses off and Andrea let me take home the new BRIDE'S
magazine. I was happy because it usually costs 6 dollars.
Plus I got an adorable haircut!

Summery colors
Juan left this gerbera on my desk last week for no good reason whatsoever.
I LOVE the single yellow petal hanging out at the bottom.
Going for a haircut tonight.
I LOVE my hairdresser. She is fun and nice and entertaining, and she is the best person who has ever cut my hair. EVER.
AND she lets me take home any of the magazines I want from the salon.

Take out your contacts BEFORE you have remembered where you left your glasses....
...walk blindly (quite literally) around the apartment searching for said glasses......
.....step on a stray uncooked ziti on the kitchen floor....

I was so excited today after I got off the phone with Jena.
I got ready for work, and headed out to the store. I should note here that I work with Jena's sister Lyndsey.
At the store, I bought pink flowers, pink candy and pink lollipops. When I got to work, I made this sign for Lyndsey and I taped it to her office door. Then I left her the pink flowers and the pink candy. But I kept the lollipops for myself, and following in the Puerto Rican tradition, I got up in everyone's face and a handed them a pink lollipop while grinning maniacally, exclaiming "I"M AN AUNTIE TODAY!" I got many congratulations and just as many strange looks.
This was all BEFORE 8 am.
The excitement began to wear off at 8:30, when a preschool student threw a pair of Power Ranger underwear at my head. And he didn't miss.
At least it was clean.

(I have no idea how many billions of people live on this planet, but I estimate somwehere in the 12 billion range.)

WELCOME TO THE WORLD, BABY PAYTON!!!
I just got the call and hour ago (at FIVE AM!) that you were born March 13th at 11pm (CA time) You are 21 inches long, you weigh 7 lbs 10 oz, and you have a full head of dark hair.
But most importantly, you have actually succeeded in pulling me out of bed BEFORE 6 am. (A feat rarely accomplished by anything , except possibly, a sudden attack of explosive diarrhea)
You already have so much love and devotion, all the way from across the country. You hold a giant spot in my heart and my soul (and Juan's too, who exclaimed this morning "I'm and uncle!!") You will be loved forever and ever, and EVER. I can't wait to see your darling face and snuggle you close to me and smell your baby smell. I promise to be your biggest fan when you roll over and when you go to first grade, and when you go to the prom (if you want to, that is. You don't HAVE to go to the prom if you don't want to).

And so begins the biggest adventure...life on the outside! You are only 4 hours old, and I wish you a lifetime of health and happiness and friends like your mom and your dad.

I love you, little one!!!

Ladies and Gentleman,
My best friend Jena is in labor RIGHT NOW! As we speak!
The nurses are saying that Payton will make her entrance to the world by midnight tonight!! (California time, they live in Sacramento)
I am concretely convinced of my suberb psychic powers. I posted abut Payton this morning, had 2 conversations about her with my mom and grandma and NOW,....SHE"S A COMIN!!!!
She must have felt my vibes from across the country.
I hope to post a picture of my first niece within the next few days!!!
heheheheehe!!!
i can barely contain myself!!!!

...that little Miss Payton would make her entrance to the world VERY SOON! I am getting anxious to see your face, little one!
One of my best friend's , Jena, is due to have her little girl in 7 days.
This is the quilt I made for Payton. It is a wishing quilt, and I embroidered all the things I wish for her to enjoy in her life. They include, hope, love, friends, fun, family and joy.
It took me 3 months to make it because I am just learning the craft of quilting, and I need LOTS of help from my WONDERFUL grandma. My grandma is a quilting GENIUS. She is also a talented seamstress and used to MAKE clothes for Bob Wegman's wife, back in the day. I love my grandma SO much, and I am grateful that she is passing on her knowledge (although, admittedly, NONE of her natural skill) to me. My younger sister, Eileen has much more of the natural talent than me and has already made 2 or 3 quilts all by herself.
In fact, all my brothers and sisters have LOADS more artistic talent than I.
But I have a BLOG.

Juan and I had big plans for yesterday evening. We were going to feast on my mom's lasagna for dinner, then go to the movies with his brother Juan, his brother's wife Nancy, and their 4 year old son (juan's nephew), Aniel (pronounced onyell).
Aniel just may be THE MOST adorable child on the planet.( I cannot post his picture because I do not have permission from his parents.) He is animated, imaginative and enthusiastic about EVERYTHING from Burger King to CatDog.
For the past year and a half, Aniel has been begging his parents for a pet. Any type of pet. He had already named the pet "Henry", regardless of breed or sex. They finally caved and got him a hamster last weekend. They brought Henry home, and outfitted his cage with every exciting hamster toy in existence. Henry was brown with a white stripe.....

....WAS being the operative word.
I was at home waiting for Juan to come over and have dinner with me when the phone rang. I hear:
"Hi babe...um, i'm going to be late...there is an emergency here"

It turns out that early that morning, before Aniel went off to school, Henry began the process of 'crossing over'. Aniel was obviously quite upset that his brand new pet was sick. Nancy told him that Henry would be fine, and they would take him to the vet while Aniel was at school.
Riiigghhhhht.......
After work, Juan had the fabulous job of returning the hamster corpse to the pet store, exchanging it for an identical hamster, and getting it back to the house before Aniel woke up from his nap. Upon giving the dead hamster to the pet store attendant, the attendant opened the box and peered in at dead Henry.
"Oh", he said "Looks like he died from Wet-Tail"
Juan replies 'Wet-Tail, what is Wet-Tail??"
"A severe form of hamster diarrhea. I guess you didn't get the medicine in time."
"Medicine? What medicine?"
"Dry-tail"

Jesus! If only all medication was that simple! "DR, I have a terrible headache!"
"Here", he replies, "Just take some of this No-headache"

Anyway, after the Wet-Tail/Dry-Tail discussion, Juan went in search of an identical Henry. To make matters even more comical, THEY DIDN"T HAVE ANOTHER HENRY! Nope, not even ONE other hamster that was brown with a white stripe. So Juan just got one that was the same color brown, and hoped for the best.

Upon returning home, Aniel was awake from his nap and looking for Henry. Juan handed him the box and said
"Here's Henry! I just picked him up from the vet!!"
Aniel opened the little box and picked up the vibrantly alive new Henry, while everyone in the household held their breath. He exclaimed
"Oh wow! He's OK!" and skipped off to put Henry back in his cage.
The missing white stripe was lost on him!

After the movie, we went out for dessert. Over ice cream, I started asking Aniel questions about Henry. I innocently asked
"What color is Henry??"
Aniel enthusiastically said "Brown with a white stripe!"
Nancy snorted and said under her breath "......just brown, now!"

I would just like to tell everyone that I am going to see Robots tonight at the IMAX theater! I will let you know how it is.
I would also like to say that I am collecting the redemption codes for free iTunes songs from the Pepsi tops. If anyone doesn't want their code, please pass it on to me! I will consider it payment for entertaining you with squirrel stories.
I am also going to pass on an adorable quote that one of my kindergaten students said today. His class went on a field trip to the local high school to see a musical production the high schoolers were performing. (Aesop's Fables, something or other, geared towards little ones). When the class got off the bus and entered the high school, the little one said in an awe-inspired voice
"WOW! We're in NEW YORK CITY!!!!!!!"
hehehe!

As I was saying, the squirrel became quiet and I was able to sleep without any anxiety about small dogs or trapped rodents.
I even felt secure enough to place my toothbrush back on the bathroom sink.
The squirrel was quiet the entire next day, and I was joyous. Happily, the squirrel must have found his way back out into the wilderness.
On the second day of peace and quiet, I entered the bathroom and noticed a slight unpleasant odor. Not a typical bathroom odor, and by "typical" I mean bodily function odor, or mildewy shower odor.
It was an UNFAMILIAR unpleasant odor. I asked Juan if he smelled the unfamiliar and unpleasant odor. He sniffed around for awhile, but stated he couldn't smell a thing.
I decided I would need to clean the bathroom that weekend, as I had obviously missed something important last time.
The next day, upon returning home from work, I felt that the unfamiliar and unpleasant odor was even stronger than it had been the day before. Juan STILL could not validate the smell.
On the fourth day of peace and quiet, I had a late meeting at work. I sent Juan home to my apartment to start dinner, as I am a vengeful bitch if I am not fed by 5pm. When I opened the front door, I was hit by the unfamiliar and unpleasant odor immediately. Already in bitch mode as it was 5:01pm, I yelled at Juan "How is it POSSIBLE that you CANNOT SMELL THAT?????"
He calmly replied (he is ALWAYS calm): "Go look in the bathroom, right over the sink"
And THAT was when I saw it.
IT was a large RED spot , seeping into my bathroom ceiling tile.
I SCREAMED and ran into the kitchen where Juan was cooking.
"OHMYGODWHATISTHAT???????"
To which he calmly replied 'It's the squirrel. It's dead."
I SCREAMED, ran into my room and jumped in my bed. I covered my head with my quilt and commenced whimpering.
Juan came in to see if I was OK. I refused to poke my head out from the blankets, and in a strangled whisper I said: ....."please...please...will you please move my toothbrush into the kitchen???"
He smiled and complied. Then he told me that I needed to call the landlord, and that dinner was done.
Now, I need to take a moment here and explain that I am a HEARTY eater. I took Gross Anatomy in college, and I was able to dissect a DEAD human body and go straight to lunch following lab (still wearing my scrubs, which occassionally were flecked with small pieces of left over human connective tissue). I could also closely examine cross sections of the human brain (REAL brain, people) while snacking on jello or pudding cups. NOTHING comes between me and my meals.
Today, however, imagining a ROTTING RODENT CARCASS in my BATHROOM CEILING was TOO MUCH for me to take. I couldn't eat dinner.
I called the landlord from under the blanket and continued whimpering.
When the maintenance man rang the doorbell, I screamed. Juan was nice enough to let him in. Strangely, the maintenance man was accompanied by his teenage son. (Slightly disturbing, but I guess everyone gets their kicks somehow) I continued to cower under the blankets. I heard muffled voices, and rattling ceiling tiles. I screamed. I heard a large thump, and LAUGHTER! I SCREAMED! Why would they be LAUGHING????? I heard the crackling of a plastic bag, and then a collective "Ewww!" from the three men in my bathroom. I SCREAMED!!! I heard Juan say "yeah...that is DEFINITELY dead' and I heard the maintenance man say 'Whoa,that STINKS!"
I, of course, SCREAMED.
I heard the maintenance man replacing my ceiling tile, and then I heard them leave. I poked one eye out of the blanket and said "IS IT OVER??"
Juan assured me that the crisis was taken care of, and the CARCASS had vacated my apartment.
When the maintenance man opened the ceiling tile, he was using a large stick. There was laughter because he almost accidentally pushed the CARCASS down into the WALL SPACE. (Why this is funny, I have no idea. Maybe it was nervous laughter) Anyway, he ended up getting the CARCASS into a plastic bag. It appeared that the squirrel had chewed through my wiring and been electrocuted. He died in the corner over my bathroom sink, and immediately commenced decomposition. The RED SPOT was bodily fluids from his BLOATED CARCASS, LEAKING through my ceiling tile. Juan said that the CARCASS was so HUGE from being BLOATED that it was the size of BUDDY.. (Buddy is my mom's ELEVEN POUND poodle)
Ugh, the thought is revolting. May I also note here, that the maintenance man did NOT wear gloves OR a mask.
Sigh.
I think I have been retraumatized in the relation of this story.
It is also important to note that, without being asked, Juan then CLEANED the ENTIRE bathroom with Clorox.
And he also cleaned my toothbrush with alcohol and placed it back on the sink (that had been cleaned with Clorox).
And THAT is why I am marrying him!

John Stamos.
I am staying home sick from work today.
I just could not subject myself to 6 straight hours of screaming 4 year olds while my head is feeling like it is about to pop.
In order to rest up for tomorrow, I have parked myself on the couch in front of the morning talk shows.
John Stamos is doing the circuit promoting his new show "Jake in Progress", a sitcom about (surprise!) a newly single man looking for love....specifically NOT with models.
How IRONIC that this show's plot coincides with John Stamos' recent and public breakup with Rebecca Romijn! I'm SURE that this has NOTHING to do with his recent divorce!
John Stamos appears as if he is over-acting for 5 minute stints on Regis and Kelly and Good Morning America.
He is over zealous in his flirtations with Kelly Rippa and Robin Roberts. He kises Kelly for just a little too long on the cheek....he asks Robin Roberts when can he "expect her hand is on his knee?",
His false enthusiasm in describing his new life as being ' a new challenge that I can't wait to wake up every morning and embrace whatever comes my way" translates into:
"Please help me. I have fallen into a chasm of depression, which becomes deeper and more desperate each time my ex-wife and her new (much younger) boyfriend Jerry O'Connell are published in an entertainment journal making out in an airport. "

As the interview continues, it is obvious that John Stamos is HIGH AS A KITE, as demonstrated by comments such as:
"I"MREALLYLOVINGMYNEWLIFE!!!! IHAVEANEWPLACEANDANEWLIFE!!! IMEAN,ITISREALLYGREATTOBEABLETOSTART ANEWLIFEATAGE41!!!!! IHADAPARTYATMYNEWPLACEANDABEAUTIFULGIRLCAMEOVERANDICOULDNT WAITTO KISS HER!!!! WOW,ITISSOGREATTOHAVEANEWLIFE!!!!! REGIS!!! LETMELEANOVERANDGIVE YOUAKISSONNATIONAL TELEVISION!!! MAKESUREYOUWATCHMYNEWSHOWJAKEINPROGRESS!! ITTRULYHASNOTHINGTODOWITHMYRECENT DIVORCETOACTRESS/MODELREBECCAROMIJN!!!! IHATEMODELS!!!! BUTI LOVEMYNEWLIFE!!!"

SOMEBODY! PLEASE HELP ME!!!!

Here I am suffering from a terrible cold.
I know it is terrible because I don't even feel like shovelling handfuls of chocolate into my mouth every 10 minutes.

I'm probably dying.

I made a terrible dinner this evening involving lemon juice, sour cream and pasta. I have no idea what I was thinking. I think it was the summery picture of a big blue bowl with two children laughing jubilantly as they scooped it onto their plates. That was pretty convincing. If jubilant children can eat it, so can I.
Those children were obviously being paid in mass quuantities of giant chocolate chip cookies after the photo shoot.

Thank you to Juan who ran down the street to the soup deli to get me some minnestrone, instead of suffering through the catastrophe I prepared.

Thank you very much to my wonderful friend Catherine who is a computer guru, and keeps answering computer questions for us!

In one word?

BLECCCCHHHHH!

In three words?

DON"T DO IT

In four words?

DON"T DO IT EVER!

I have been receiving email from people, asking me how to post to this website....
Listen up!!!
Who missed the part that I am COMPLETELY technologically disabled???
All I know is that I set my comments so that "Anyone" can post, and you shouldn't have to be a blogger member....
Keep trying!

This is my fiancee Juan.
He is the love of my life, and I feel like the luckiest girl alive.
I love him because he is SO patient with me and is Ok with it if I feel the need to start baking a batch of chocolate chip cookies at 10 pm. I also love him because he likes me best when I am 10 pounds overweight.

He is from Puerto Rico and is bilingual! I love to hear him speak in spanish, it sounds so romantic to me.
I, however, have only learned the typical dirty words.

Well! I already have 2 requests for my squirrel story!
There are many squirrel stories, with which I hope to entertain you over the next few days.....
It begins approximately three weeks ago.......
I have a super cute apartment (if I do say so myself) in the city. It is in a big old house. Therefore, the apartment can be somewhat drafty and prone to needing frequent repair. Such as frozen pipes, not enough hot water...you get the idea.
ANYWAY...
My adorable fiancee and I were watching American Idol (a favorite around here, please do not call M-W from 8-9)
Our viewing was rudely interrupted by a LOUD SCRATCHING sound coming from my BATHROOM. I sent Juan into the bathroom, so i could continue watching the auditions.
He came out of the bathroom with a big ol' grin on his face and stated 'There is a squirrel in your bathroom ceiling"
FABULOUS.
It's 9pm, and I am only supposed to call the landlord in emergencies.
Does a squirrel in the ceiling constitute an emergency? A squirrel that is SCRATCHING CONSTANTLY??
Juan reminds me that a squirrel is a RODENT, and the RODENT is in the ceiling over my bathroom sink.

Where my toothbrush lives.

I call the landlord immediately.
The landlord sends over a maintenance man. The maintenance man borrows a broom from my closet and bangs on the ceiling for about 10 minutes.
He pronounces that he has "scared" the squirrel back out of the hole from which it entered.
The maintenance man leaves.
Immediately following the maintenance man's departure, (American Idol has now ended) we begin to hear a faint WHINING sound coming from the EXACT same location as the scratching.
The whining sounds EXACTLY like my mom's dog when he is hungry and wants to be fed for the fifth time that HOUR.
SInce the girl who loves above me owns a small dog, Juan and I become convinced that the scratching was NOT a squirrel, but my upstairs neighbor's dog.
We become frantic that such an adorable helpless animal should be stuck in my bathroom ceiling. Perhaps he found a hole in the back of a closet somewhere and fell through..........
We consider removing the bathroom tile.
The fear of a frantic squirrel tearing through my apartment does not appeal to us.
We then hear the small dog upstairs running around.
We look at eachother with dread.
It really is a squirrel.
That sounds like a dog.
And it is stuck in my ceiling directly over mt bathroom sink.
Where my toothbrush lives.
I moved my toothbrush into the kitchen.
About an hour later, the whining and scratching stopped altogether.
My anxiety levels decreased and I was able to sleep peacefully that evening.
More squirrel stories to come!

ALRIGHT!
Now I've got a blog!
(I think I also have accounts with at least 15 different web hosters.....)
As I am unbelievably technologically disabled, this is a victory equivalent to Lance Armstrong's post-cancer Tour-de-France win!
so...who wants to tell me what URL and HTML means?

is this finally going to work????

This is a test post from , a fancy photo sharing thing.

SCREW MacJournal and Buzznet!
This is my 4th day of trying to figure out how to post a freaking picture.
i am frustrated because it is taking up a lot of my time. Time I should be spending writing important reports for work that are due tomorrow. Can I tell my boss my blog ate my reports?

I am NOT drunk in this picture. My eyes look swollen because I am allergic to my friend catherine's dog Sam, and cat Max.

OK, I'm not really quite sure what is going on, but after signing up and attempting to use 3 blogs in 2 days, this is the one that has worked the best.
I AM feeling somewhat resentful at the fact that i cannot post pictures. It seems that Blogger's photo software is NOT compatible with my SUPERCOOL eMac.
I don't know what's up with that.
It's a lot like computer discrimination, and that really pisses me off. Because there is no reason why my face and the adorable face of my fiancee and my friends should NOT be posted to my own blog.
I am writing an official complaint and hopefully this matter will be resolved eventually.
Or I may just break down and pay for a blog.
who the hell knows.
I'm tired after starting 3 blogs that haven't worked in 2 days.

hi

Use the Journals toolbar item to see your journals, and use the Entries item to see the entries for that journal. You can delete this entry to get started (or just make a new one).

I hope you enjoy using MacJournal!

Is this gonna work or WHAT??????????