Monday Morning Chrissy

Neighborhood watch?

FAIL!

Here's a picture of my broken toe and freakishly swollen foot. I think my dining room chairs are trying to kill me. Toe... by toe....

It's true!

My first issue of Cat Fancy magazine proves that I'm officially a "cat person".  Don't worry, I haven't lost my "dog person" status. I just have dual citizenship now!

What I did on my summer vacation

I called 911.

A lot.

Let me explain.

Who's the biggest dog lover you know? Me

Who's the last person that you ever thought would get bit by a dog? Me

Who got bit by a dog?

That's right. Me.

 

I was outside watering my lawn when my friend's father made his nightly walk around the block across the street. He has two dogs: one who's about a hundred and saunters around off leash and the other, a Pomeranian/Sheltie mix who is harnessed and growls at everyone who goes by. I think you can guess which one bit me.

 His name is Forest but he's not slow like Forest Gump. My friend's father insists that he's a very sweet dog and that he just gets protective when he's wearing a leash. On this evening, as he often does, Mr. Hackett was walking with the two small neighborhood children that live next door to him. The smallest one, with big blue eyes like Cindy Lou Who, was holding tightly to Forest's leash.

"Go ahead, Natalie. Drop the leash. Let's show Chrissy how tame Forest is."

I held my breath as Forest slowly moved forward and sniffed me, but the teeth came out again and I told Natalie to grab the leash. That's right. I was asking for protection from a 6 year old.

I continue talking to Mr. Hackett and was paying no attention to the dogs until Forest starting barking. The kids asked if the cat across the street that Forest was barking at was Vinny and I leaned forward on my right leg to look around the car parked in the street to check it out.

In that split second, Forest lunged at my leg and took a chunk out right below my right knee. It was bleeding profusely and I was totally panicked but I didn't want to alarm the kids so I very calmly said, "Oh my...this looks pretty bad. I better go get a band aid. See you later."

I left a trail of blood as I went to the front door only to find it locked. I ran around to the back and by the time I got to the door, my neighbor from down the street was on my heels in her nightgown.

"I saw it! I saw him attack you."

I'm pretty sure I saw some muscle hanging out so I called 911. Well, how was I supposed to know they were going to quarantine the dog for two weeks?? The paramedics did nothing but put a bandage on it so my friend took me to the urgent care where they cleaned it out and gave me an antibiotic. I didn't know that they don't stitch dog bites because they're afraid that they'll become infected. It's been two weeks and it's still an open wound so I might go see a specialist to see what they can do.

A few days a later, I got a call from the police chief wanting to discuss "the incident" saying that there is a vicious dog ordinance in the city. Oh, geez. If they classified the dog as such, they would need to put a fence around their yard and post a sign stating "vicious dog lives here." I convinced the police chief to not classify Forest as a vicious dog because I've known the family for so long and it seemed like such an extreme measure. He joked that if his dog every bit anyone that he hoped it would be me.

Ten years ago, I probably would have been more upset because I was so vain. Now, what's one other scar on my right leg? It will go with the scars on my left leg from the burns. The funniest part was that my next door neighbors had just made me some corn that they grew in their yard. They didn't want to chance me boiling it myself! A few hours later, I got a text from them as I was in the urgent care waiting room. "Did you choke on the corn?"

You know how most neighborhoods have a neighborhood watch to deter criminals? My neighborhood is going to have a watch for me. They're going to work in shifts and if they haven't seen me in 8 hours, they need to see if I'm still alive.

Monday Morning Millie & Dino

"What's that? What's wrong with Dino? Um....nothing....I....I think he's playing dead....yeah, that's it."

Secondhand Sunday

Sundays are my Secondhand day. I'm basically too lazy to think of anything new to say so I re-post a "vintage" entry.

If you aren't in the mood for repeats, please feel free to change the channel.

"I MEANT TO DO THAT"


Original Post Date, Monday, March 15, 2010


It's been years since I've worked out in a gym. I realized that what I've been wearing at home is hardly public attire, so I went out and bought myself a few pairs of yoga pants, shorts and T shirts.

I happened to pass by a sporting goods store this week and I decided to stop in to see what they were offering. Most of the shirts I buy are 100% cotton but I saw a rack with polyester shirts labeled Dri-FIT. They promised to "wick sweat away and keep you dry and comfortable". Polyester is going to keep me dry? They were a really thin fabric, too, so I was a little hesitant but you know how un-dry I get when I work out so I slipped into the fitting room to try one on.

Helloooo nipples.

I hate "nippage" but I figured no one would notice them under my sports bra. Women can relate to how incredibly tight a sports bra is. Once you manage to get it over your head, you have to artfully draw it down over your boobs until you're smashed like Barbra Streisand in Yentl.

Yesterday, I slept in later than I had wanted to, so I hurriedly dressed in my new top and shorts and headed to the gym. I was lucky enough to snag a treadmill before the 11:00 rush.

Thirty minutes later, I was doing a final heart rate check as I stepped off the treadmill and noticed there was a cute guy waiting at the end of the belt, asking if I was finished.

"I sure am. Let me just wipe it off for you."

"I'm sure it's not too bad. How's your heart rate?", he asked, as he looked down at my chest and smiled.

I felt my already red cheeks flush a little darker as I replied, "Not bad. Better than it was a few weeks ago."

"Well, you look great." Again, he glanced down at the girls.

Oh God. The girls must be standing at attention.

I smiled and headed out the door to the restroom so I could see for myself. The first thing I noticed was that I could hardly even tell that I had sweat that much. Usually, there's a huge stain around the neck but the fabric really DID wick it away to keep me cooler. Kudos.

However, as my eyes traveled downward, I noticed that the girls were indeed saluting. That wasn't the worst of it, though. Let me explain. When you put on a sports bra, you need to...um...adjust.

In my haste to get out the door, I hadn't done that, so one nipple was at least 2 inches higher than the other. I'm going to wear this next week so he thinks I meant to do that.

And we'll laugh and laugh.....

Monday Morning Vinny

"What part of "no solicitors" do you not understand?"