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Boobies, Horny Dogs and Patrick Swazye (And, No, None of These Things Have Anything To Do With Each Other). Just Another Random Tuesday

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Lazy Blogger

I haven’t written much lately. It’s not that I don’t have stories to tell, things to say or rants to make. I have plenty to say, I just don’t haven the energy to focus and write. Which stinks because it’s a good way for me to relieve stress and blow off some steam.

But I’m so tired. I’m worn down. I feel like hibernating—and it’s only mid-September. I feel so lazy that the simplest, most basic tasks seem exhausting. I did a few loads of laundry Sunday afternoon and it sucked every bit of life out of me. I don’t think it’s the seasonal change—I am so happy that it’s starting to cool off a bit and I can break out some sweaters and my beloved boots—I think life is catching up to me. I had a vacation (that I still haven’t written about. What’s the statue of limitations for that?), my birthday, my anniversary, dog shows and work. Plus, all the little stuff that adds up to long and busy days. I hope whatever this is stops and life gets back to normal.

Mondays are for Mammograms

If you’re feeling particularly sadistic, make sure your schedule your mammogram the week you have your period. I had my first mammogram at 35. Since I’m adopted and don’t have a medical history, they wanted to establish a baseline to check against. Now that I’m 40, I guess I have to do this every year. I had my appointment yesterday—the day before my period started. I made my appointment months ago and didn’t realize I scheduled it when I was going to be on vacation, so I pushed it a couple of weeks without really paying attention to the calendar.

It takes the pain and magnifies it a million times. It’s bad enough the tech has to grab what little boobage I have and wrestle it into this machine to smash it into a pancake, when they’re already sore and swollen (I apologize to my male readers for the visual!) it’s like having vice grip attached to your tatas while someone cranks it tighter and tighter until tears spring from your eyes, your boob feels like it’s burning and you’re just about to cry “Uncle!” when the machine mercifully released your bruised and battered boobie. Repeatedly. (Bill’s thinking, “Shit, she’s never going to let me near THOSE again!”)

“Bitch in Heat!”

I went to my first dog show a couple of years ago. When I got Gracie, they told me I was required to show the little diva, and although it sounded fun and I watched the Westminster Dog Show on TV, I had never actually BEEN to one. So I begged and bribed asked Lesley to come with me, and we drove to the middle of nowhere (or close to it) to meet Gracie’s handler (who also owns Gracie’s Baby Daddy) at a dog show. I realized quickly that it was not going to be as easy (or as inexpensive) as promised, but I was willing to give it the old college try.

A couple of weeks before Gracie started showing. I met Gracie’s handler again at another show so I could see what this was really going to entail. I wanted to talk to her about how I needed to groom Gracie beforehand. I also wanted to watch everything from how they get the dogs ready to go into the ring, to how the judges look them over, to how people behave (Did you know that Rottweiler owners are big into clapping and cheering for every single dog while Samoyed owners think it’s not appropriate to applaud until the very end? File that under Weird Shit You Never Wanted To Know.)

Bitch in Heat!

Bitch in Heat!

So the Sammys are getting ready to show, and Gracie’s handler has me walk one of the male dogs to the ring for her. As I’m taking this dog over, a woman is dashing through the crowd with her German Shepherd, sees the obviously male dog I’m walking and starts bellowing, “Bitch in Heat! Bitch in Heat!” At first I wasn’t sure if she was talking about herself or her dog. But I realized she thought the boy at the end of my leash was ready to break free and start humping her little bitch. I was stunned. I looked around to see if anyone else thought this was strange, but no one blinked an eye.

Gracie has a show this weekend and she’s in heat. If we’re lucky, this will be her last one (show, not monthly visitor). She only has two more points before she becomes CHAMPION Gracie, so I think I’m going to go out with a bang (pun intended). I’m going to bring a bunch of bodyguards to surround my precious baby to make sure no rouge dogs knock her up. And I’m going to walk her through the crowds and announce “Bitch in Heat!” With a bullhorn.

Maybe that should be my new tagline?

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

Although it’s not unexpected, I’m still sad that Patrick Swayze passed away yesterday. Dirty Dancing is one of my all-time favorite movies. I love those Saturday afternoons when I don’t have anything to do and find it on TV. I will stop and watch. Every. Single. Time.

One of the best movie lines ever...

One of the best movie lines ever...

For more random reading today, check out Keely at the UnMom.

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16 Responses

  1. Fridays = mammograms for me. I had mine done on 9/11. (I know!). I don’t think it’s too painful, but I always get amused by the fact that they give you a robe. Um, ma’am. You are totally feeling me up, is the robe necessary? *heh*

    • I know. I’m not sure why they bother. They’ve already stripped you of your dignity—they may as well strip you of your clothing and parade you around the building.

  2. I think “Bitch in heat!” is my new go to exclamation when I can’t think of anything else to say. Thanks for that. Gracie is absolutely beautiful!

    So sad about Patrick Swayze. I loved Dirty Dancing and always stop and watch it when it’s on.

  3. You were “required” to show Gracie? Why? What would they do if you didn’t feel like getting into that? And don’t even get me started on mammograms. I don’t believe anything that humiliating and painful could be good in any way, shape or form. There are alternatives you know, but the medical community won’t offer them because they cost them too much. I’ve had 4 (yes FOUR) friends in the past few years who discovered they had breast cancer even though they faithfully had their mammograms and their mammmograms kept insisting they were perfectly fine.

    • The showing of Gracie is a long story that I keep trying to write but doesn’t seem to happen. One day…!

      I keep reading that MRIs and things like that are more effective but we still do the mammogram. Maybe that will change when they revamp our health care system. (ha!)

  4. every single one of my comments on your blog is going to be about how gorgeous your dog is until i get one of my own! Also, thatnks for making mammograms sound as awesome as possible – I’ve never had one, and I am really not looking forward to it!

  5. Beautiful dog! Enjoyed your random. Though I’ve got my 1st mamogram scheduled soon – ouch

  6. Mondays are for *miscellany, tyvm.

    Also, can I have Gracie? PLEASE?

  7. OOH! You left out the part how I’ve never been to another dog show since on account of I GOT TOTALLY BUSTED FOR PETTING A DOG WHEN I WAS THERE!! IT SKEERED ME! Dog are fah pettin’! Oh? They’re not? My bad! *gulp*

    • If it makes you feel any better, Bill got busted too. He walked up to a Cavalier King Charles, asked the owner if he could pet it, the owner said yes, and everything was fine until Bill rubbed the dog’s ears. The owner went ape-shit. Something about the natural oils in your hands screwing up the silky ears. It’s craziness I tell you.

  8. Oh: And I heart Patrick Swayze so, so much.

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