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12.02.2003 - 4:08 p.m.


Dog is doing this relatively new thing we call "Chewbacca". It happens when she's really excited about something - like when we come home or when we let her back in from the back yard - and she has her stuffed armadillo wedged in her mouth and she makes these big loud moans of happiness while you're petting her.

Me: (scratching Dog's back): "How YOU doin', Dog? How's my dawwg?"
Me: "Chewbaccaaa…oooh Chewbacca,.."
Me: "JB! Dog's totally gone all Chewbacca in here."
JB: "What's up Chewbacca? How's Chewbacca doing?"

Our Dog-related colloquialisms include Mrs. President, Crab Dog, Pig Sounds, Dangit, and now…Chewbacca.

Just, you know, in case you were keeping track of these types of things.


That giant sucking sound you hear from the Great Northwest? That would be my job, lately. It has been sucking AND blowing. It sucks balls and it blows goats.

The thing that's bothering me the most is the actual physical side effects of going through a lot of stress. I mean, I'd love to wither away charmingly, bemoaning my fragile mental state until I fit into a pair of size six jeans, but that doesn't appear to be my style. No, instead I get mega horking zits in weird places on my face. I steer clear of the obvious benefits of going to the gym and I eat too much.

Also, I get nagging headaches that last all day long. My back hurts from the tension in my body. It sucks. Oh, and it blows, too. (Goats.)

The last couple of days I've been worried about JB, too. He went to the doctor yesterday for what I thought was going to be a minor thing and it's turned into a trip to the MRI coupled with all these tests and it's just…stressful.

Oh, another side effect? I cannot seem to get a handle on my emotions. I feel like a cup filled to the brim with liquid, threatening to spill at every opportunity. Here are some situations in which I have burst into tears lately:

- In my office in front of my boss (Yeah. I know. Nice one.)
- In the soup aisle of the grocery store, for no reason whatsoever
- In the car every damn time I hear that new Evanescence song, which I don't even LIKE for god's sake

What I need is a glass of wine, a long soak in the tub, and maybe a vigorous session of Chewbacca. Lucky for me, I think I can get all three tonight.

See, it's not that bad.


Lest you grow concerned I am spending all of my time crumpled in a ball whimpering, I did purchase a Squirrel Log this weekend and am enjoying it immensely.

A Squirrel Log, if for SOME reason you don't know already (doy), is a pressed cylinder of this corn derivative that squirrels like to chomp into. "Don't FIGHT them," the packaging read, "FEED them!". I thought that sounded like a fine idea.

Now I can look out the window into the backyard and typically see two or three squirrels going bonkers over their Squirrel Log. Plus, Dog gets the added benefit of going batshit when she sees them. Everybody wins with the Log!

It's lo-og, lo-og,
It's better than bad, it's good!

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22 comments so far.

I have moved. - 1.03.2005
Obviously, a work in progress. - 12.27.2004
Happy holidays! - 12.24.2004
Listen, I am not a complete dick, it's not like I want Joe to die alone surrounded by cats or something. - 12.23.2004
Plus I am convinced my butt is extra big when it's upside down. - 12.22.2004

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