My dog's ass stinks. Gizmo is a French Bulldog and by nature of his breed he already farts a lot. Lately, it's been unbearable, and he's been hotboxing us in the bed. He'll peek his unbelievabley cute head out of the covers and BAM! you can't breathe for at least three minutes. If you are a pet owner, dogs specifically, you may be familiar with "expressing the anal glands". Lovely. If you aren't---you squeeze the area around the dogs anus until this awful purple liquid comes out that smells more horrible than anything you could possibly imagine. He has had his "glands" expressed once before, and it occured to me it may need to happen again based on the stench that follows him throughout the house. But he's also been very sleepy, not eating for days, and not playing---if you know my dog, this is so not normal. Just ask his girlfriend Lincoln, a hot silky gray Wiemaraner. Grrr.... I cautiously made a vet appointment for tomorrow, be...

Contrary to (wildly) popular belief, I do not enjoy telling people what to do. You're an adult. You should know by now. And if you don't know, just ask. So, when things aren't getting done as they frequently aren't in my world these days I have to ask "are you stupid" (gut reaction derived from years of my father asking me this exact question) or is it something else? The people around me aren't stupid (for the most part, you know who you are). What's missing is INITIATIVE. There are many people in this world who are capable of many things but simply don't act on it, or, t ake the initiative . In my case, they need me to spell it out in nine languages before it sinks in that action is needed. I give you a chance, you let me down, I do it myself, you don't get another one. Then you complain that I don't let you do anything. This is the merry-go-round I ride daily. I'm nauseous and my pony wants off. More often than not these peop...

My boyfriend, who turned 40* yesterday, spent this weekend in Las Vegas with a morally questionable but lovable friend. My man and I have visited the depths of hell together recently (thanks for your warmth and hospitality!) and are currently vacationing in purgatory. We do intend to get to heaven, but I have not yet seen the light. You can likely deduce that I was not a fan of this trip. Not. At. All. Let's do a little math: Mid-life crisis + depths of hell with girlfriend + unlimited (free) booze + unlimited (expensive) boobs + legalized prostitution = One Very Troubled Woman Who needed comfort food. So, yes, I'm going to share a recipe. I had very little in the house, having been on my own little excursion with my other boyfriend (not to worry, he's gay) for the weekend so I had to make due with the very bare (no pun intended) essentials I had. Tortellini with Italian Sausage and Olive Oil Herb Sauce (feeds 1-2, because I'm sick of recipes for 4 people) ...

Today was a day of accomplishments and miracles. Miracles: #1: Not a single conference call scheduled. #2: Less than 1 hour spent at the DMV getting my license. #3: A kick-ass license photo As for those accomplishments: #1: All the work I actually did versus managing my inbox and hanging out on speaker phone with the mute button on for 45 minutes at a time. #2: License renewal, tag payment and dentist bill (nitrous doesn't come cheap and insurance companies don't seem to like it so much). #3: Birthday present--wait, AMAZING birthday present for my soon to be 40-year old boyfriend. All that's left to do this year is taxes and die.

In these trying economic times I have been making a conscious effort not to buy "stuff". Except weekend trips...for some reason I can't say no. But that's what miles are for. However, I got a letter in the mail (dated three weeks ago, because I just don't seem to get around to checking the mailbox all that often) telling me my lease was up in four months. Whaaa?? I've been telling people it's up this spring, but in my head I kept telling myself I had until August. Yet another thing about me I can't explain. Apparently not. This minor detail slipped my mind--maybe it was all the DRAMA I've been wound so tightly in over the past few months. So, very quickly I need to fix the dent in the back that resulted in chronic neck problems, the dent on the side where my boyfriend hit my car, and the mysterious scrape that magically appeared on the front bumper. Damn valet. So, now I'm car shopping! I have to have a car, right?! How exciting! Somethin...

I'm at that time in life when most of my friends a) have children b) are working on having children, or c) swearing they will remain childless for eternity. I can't say I'm working on having children other than enjoying the process that will ultimately create them but what I find FASCINATING is the completely realistic approach to child rearing my friends are sharing with me along the way. Case in point--two of my dearly beloved had their last (as in most recent) child about two years ago. Neither of them EVER sugar coated the labor, or post-labor, or the fact that that sometimes they simply do not like their children. It's so refreshing. It doesn't make them bad mommies...it makes them real people. My sister, who unwittingly gave me content, recently went off the pill. She is currently nine days late, gained 5lbs (I hope that's what she told me) but tells me she's not pregnant. She also spent all of last week paranoid and freaked out that she actually...