I am a work in progress.

For those of you who have never or will never see the inside of my house, I'm warning you, this will be a boring post. It may be boring anyway, but I'm excited about new furniture.
Here's my new bedroom: all new furniture and the ritziest comforter set I have ever owned, thanks to Overstock, without whose discount prices, I would never have been able to afford one this nice.

With the kiss

It even included a bed skirt! I cannot remember the last time I had a bedskirt. Maybe when I was still living with my parents and my mother was in charge of the linens.

Bed skirt

And here are the accompanying pieces:

With small drawers

Big drawers, with dog and TV

On to the living room. I couldn't find a picture that would properly convey the extent of the puppy-damage to the old furniture, but those of you who saw it remember the horror.

New arm chair

New furniture

Note: The teal (my mother SWEARS it's green. I respectfully disagree) chair is not my favorite piece, but it's a lazy boy, and BOY is it comfortable.

Great vintage chair

Chair side detail

And now, the crown jewel of the new, one of grandmother's fancy chairs (I would've taken both, but the Sis wanted the other. Fair's fair.)

Greatest chair ever

The sag in the cushion speaks to its age, but do you SEE the awesomeness that is that fabric? DO YOU SEE?

Best fabric ever

So there it is, the new and improved "adult" furniture for our house. In two weeks, there will be new carpet, darker, richer, better quality AND with SCOTCHGUARD! (Blessedly, I photo-retouched the worst spots of the carpet in these pictures, but take my word for it, it is HORRID. Again, those of you who've seen it . . .)

This is what Liam and I are doing in lieu of presents for his birthday. He has plenty of toys and clothes already, so we're doing the next best thing: helping others. Please feel free to donate if you're interested.

This is absolutely too hilarious NOT to share. Please to enjoy.

Oh my gods, thank you Sundry for this! Just what I need on an insomniac Friday night.

MyHero

Greta's story has been told in detail other places (mainly stupid MySpace and an old blog of mine). Here are some snippets:

Bad News Wednesday I found out yesterday that Greta has bone cancer in her front, right leg, and the only thing to do is amputate the leg because of the aggressiveness of the cancer. The only good news in the last 24 hours has been that her bloodwork is, according to the vet, unusually clean, indicating that HOPEFULLY the cancer hasn't had time to spread. However, unless something changes in the next week, Greta will be a three-legged Great Dane as of next Wednesday. Keep your fingers crossed for good progress. I'm exhausted and terrified.

Greta's new life as a Tripod. Well, she's not home yet, but she's doing well, for having one less leg. I got her to pee outside and eat a bowl of food at the vet today when I visited. Ahhh, a mother's persuasion. She looks a little rough, but not nearly as bad as I thought she would, and despite the exhaustive effort it takes right now, she's walk/hopping around on three legs really well. She only slipped once today, and it seemed to be because she forgot the fourth leg wasn't there. I'm just happy she made it through the surgery and is up and about without slipping into deep depression or biting my hand off when I came to visit. At least maybe she'll blame the limb-loss on the vets instead of me. Think good thoughts for what's to come. For her first official Tripod picture, Go here .

I wish it were Sunday; that's my fun-day Today, I made the decision not to have chemo-therapy for Greta. I took her to a pet oncologist last week, and reviewing the options, unfortunately, the biggest reality was that I just couldn't afford it. Balanced against everything else, of course. And, just to clarify, by, "I can't afford it," I mean, it would literally bankrupt me. And by "balanced against everything else," I mean that there is no guarantee, much like cancer anywhere, that after I spent a small fortune, Greta would be granted anymore of life than she is now. This has been a hard decision, but I feel like it's one I can live with. In the last 24 hours, I've fluctuated from the self-inflicted "i'm a selfish bitch" to the "Greta's just getting back to normal and I can't see putting her through anything else." Not to mention the fact that I can't manage to afford it, even after trying to cash out IRA's or contemplating another credit card. Greta is actually running around the yard and house. She's eating a ton, as she used to before all this health ruckus. She's attempting to play with Nico, which is a big thing. And she's finally becoming Greta again, just Greta with three legs. So, despite the fact that I have a realistic prognosis of the length of her life without chemo, I just want to give her the best days she has left. So there's that. Thanks for all the well-wishing. She gets it, I promise.

Friday, July 6, 2007

Best. Dog. Ever.
Current mood:  melancholy

Regardless, Greta died a couple months after my son was born, and I always thought she stuck it out long enough to make sure he got here and we were okay. Then she could give in to what was a very courageous battle on her part. Recently, I unearthed some old pictures from her "Golden Years," when she still had 4 legs. Let's start with the first day I met her, shall we? January, 2000.

Greta, me & snowman, 1:00_1

Easy & Greta, Jan. 2000_1

With her adoptive mother, Easy the Boxer.

Puppy Greta, 1:00_1

She loved that boxer and played big sis to the puppies Easy had the next year:

Easy, Greta & pups 3:01_1

Greta was a ham and a camera-hog and a love-muffin:

My mother actually carried this picture in her wallet for years and would pull it out to show others her "granddog."

Greta luvs Baxter, 2001_1

Greta and me, 2001_1

@ the bottom of Crowders01_1

She loved the beach:

Greta @ Sullivan's Island_1

Greta at the Beach_1

And she tolerated Nico when he came along in 2004:

4:04_1

Training Session, 5:04_1

2 comments

She loved her mama:

Xmas 03_1

And she would've loved and protected the hell out of Liam:

Greta and baby Liam, July 2007

Ok, so there is one where she only has 3 legs. This was taken 2 days before she died, and you can see how oh-so-tired she was. I don't know why she's in my thoughts so much these days, but regardless, not a day goes by that I don't think of her and lament and appreciate that there will never be another dog like her. Wow, how can I not end this on such a somber note? Oh, I know, make sure you read that anecdote about Greta's run-in with Pepe La Pew.

The Triumverate has found a new forum. Plans will be made! Gossip will be twittered over! Laughs will be guffawed! Fates will be decided!

Triumverate Video Chat 1

Ok, so is it wrong that this picture . . .

Tahmohpenickettjosswhedonelizadushk

So, I really wanted to post this on my Facebook page, but I have quite a few Republican, ahem, friends, so I'm posting it here so as not to alienate anyone because you guys, you guys, are my real friends.

Food-pyramid

Courtesy of Beth.
I am not a big fan of memes. I usually only do them if a friend bugs me or it means I *have* to shuffle through my iPod for an hour. Beth is not a friend of mine; I just read her blog. But I really like her questions. So I am doing it. If you would like to continue the meme, here's how:
To play, answer the following five questions on your blog (or in the comments if you don't have a blog). A link back to me (or Beth) so I (or she) can come read your answers would be awesome, that plus a note in the comments (or Beth's) that you are doing it would be even better.

1. Remember the movie Brewster's Millions? That happens to you, except on a smaller scale. You receive a million dollars that you must spend in 30 days. However, you cannot have any assets to show for the money at the end of the month (and you can't buy something and then destroy it), you cannot waste the money, you cannot give it away, and you cannot tell anyone what you are doing. How do you ditch the dough in a month or less? Wow, I had this whole grand write-up about the great vacation my friends and family and I would go on until I noticed "and you cannot tell anyone what you are doing," so now I have to rethink it. Ok, well, I WOULD leave a not saying I'd be back in a month, and then I guess I'd spend as much money as I could seeing all the sights I'd always wanted to see, a whirlwind, 30-day trip around the globe, I suppose. Also, since I'm so rich in this scenario, I can afford security in the not-so-secure parts of the world, so I can go anywhere. I would rent a jet, maybe have a helicoptor on stand-by wherever I go (time is of the essence, here). I would eat at the most expensive restaurants and drink the most expensive wine, take baths in the most ridiculous jacuzzi tubs in the most decadent penthouse suites. Places I would visit: Ireland, Scotland, Black Forest, Paris, Riviera, Florence, Crete, Azores, St. Petersburg (Russia, not Florida), Pyramids in Egypt, Victoria Falls, Jerusalem, the Indian Coast, Thailand (wherever The Beach was filmed), The Great Wall of China, Tokyo, Fiji, the Andes. I'm sure I've forgotten places, but I'd hit them too. I would try to spend the last few days, return plane tickets pre-purchased of course, in Australia, wandering through the Outback and trailing the coast and gawking at Ayer's Rock. Then, I'd get home, kiss Philly's ass for being gone a month with no contact (he would've gotten postcards) and then I would write a book about my adventures (think Eat, Pray, Love but times a thousand) and hopefully make more millions so I could take that trip with someone else. I got lonely on the first one.

2. You are locked in a toy store overnight, with no way out until it reopens in the morning. What do you play with all night? Is there someone in there with me? Cause if I could have a few people with me, we'd play board games for a while. Then something involving hiding behind shelves and shooting each other with guns that shoot nerf balls. Hmm, race around on those bouncy balls with the handles on top, maybe. If they sold those moon-bounce things, I would blow them all up and put them next to each other and jump around between them until I couldn't stand it anymore. Then, I would fill up one of them with every plush toy I could find and drift off to sleep pretending I was 8 again and trying not to worry about the security guards who would find me in the morning.

3. If you could have a dinner party with any three famous people, living or dead, you would be wasting your supernatural powers on hosting dinner parties. What would you do instead? Ok, 3 people? First, I would call up Emily Bronte and ask just what the blue hell Heathcliff was doing those 2 years he was away from Wuthering Heights (if you have not read the book . . . sorry) because COME ON, talk about willing suspension of disbelief! Then, I would rouse Billy Faulkner's hungover ass and make him explain to me just what the blue hell Darl is on about in As I Lay Dying and how long he REALLY spent writing the book. One more, hmmm, then I'd want to have a long, lazy dinner with my boyfriend, maybe you've heard of him, President Barack Obama. We would talk about the state of the world, how he's going to salvage this country from the ravages of Bush's administration, how his eyes light up when he smiles, you know, important stuff.

4. What's the best thing since sliced bread? Now, sliced bread ain't all that impressive, so what's the best mediocre, hum-drum improvement or advancement that has made modern life just ever so slightly more convenient for humanity, along the lines of saving yourself five seconds every time you want a piece of bread.

Ok, had to think about this one for a few minutes, but I've got it! You know how now you can buy decent wine in bottles that, ready for this?, instead of corks have SCREW TOPS!!?? That's it! That's the greatest thing since sliced bread! While being able to buy bread ALREADY sliced saves me five seconds when I'm making a sandwich, the screw-top wine bottles save me five seconds, more like 45!, when I'm trying to get to my VINO!

5. What's your best quality? The response to this question must be a simple declarative statement. You may elaborate on that statement, provided that your elaboration does not include the words "but," "however," or "although," or any other hedging, equivocating, back-sliding, gerrymandering (which is not at all appropriate in this context, but I think it should be, don't you?) or any other type of backing down from the simple declarative statement with which you began your response.
Ok, so I'm going to make my best quality a combo: I am a laid-back optimist. This means I tend to not worry, which may bother other people, but I love it. I don't fret, wring my hands, grit my teeth. Since I am also an optimist, I tend to expect the best, or at least the acceptable, in most situations. I am seldom disappointed. I think these qualities of mine also tend to mean I am pretty fun to hang out with; I look for the funny and positive in any situation, be it church- or bar-related. I will listen respectfully to a sermon and hold your hair back while you puke in the nasty bathroom of whatever dive we've been drinking in. I like to think that being both laid-back and an optimist also helps me be someone useful when approached for advice. I won't help you wallow. I will empathize and listen, but you'll get no wallowing from me. Ok, I think that's about all I can take of blowing my own horn.

Any takers?