He’s a good kid.

School was canceled early this morning because the northern portion of our district had snowy roads. Our roads were completely clear by 9:00, which meant this guy and I were able to keep our 10:50 vet appointment.

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When we arrived, Graham popped out of his crate and immediately began rubbing himself all over everyone in the room which caused the vet tech to drop everything in order to organize a Graham Cracker Fan Club. (Graham is definitely a charmer.)

Final diagnosis? Colitis and what may or may not be (but probably is) ringworm. And that means the weird rash on my neck is also ringworm. And it’s almost like I’m trying to turn you away by telling you a foot story one day and a ringworm story the next. God only knows what I’ll show you tomorrow.

Graham is no longer allowed to eat Greenies, and he and I are now sharing a bottle of topical medication along with a set of nail clippers and my pillow. It won’t be long before he starts wearing my clothes, and now that I typed that out loud I have to wonder if he is the one who misplaced my Barack O’Llama pajama pants. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Love Toe. Never meant to be.

Last night Tempe and I hit the streets for Mediterranean food. (I’ve had February falafels for the past two years, and I can’t let 2016 bump my streak.) Afterwards, we jumped over to the mall because off-season pedicures are never a bad idea.

The pedicure place was being manned by a woman and a boy child. The woman filled a tub for Tempe. Boy Child filled my tub. Tempe chose a bright green sparkly polish because she’s edgy and brave. I went with a pearlized white because I’m really stressed out about the election, you guys.

I hate talking about feet, so let’s step this up a bit.

Boy Child (weirding me out by massaging my feet after being reprimanded by the woman for not giving me my money’s worth, when I was totally fine without any sort of creepy foot massage): SomethingSomethingBigToe?

Me: I’m sorry?

Boy Child: SomethingSomethingBigToe?

Me: No, no, no.

Boy Child gets up and walks away.

Me: What did he say?

Tempe: I don’t know, but I think he’s mad at you for having such hairy legs.

Me: Ack!

Boy Child then returned, applied the pearlized white, and then grabbed a black brush and started painting a stripe on my left big toe and DEAR LORD I know this is a story about a pedicure but I really do hate talking about my feet and he just kept painting with the black and then he grabbed opaque white and started drawing something and Tempe and I kept making hilarious and frightened eye contact because What In The Hell Is Happening Right Now? I clearly said No to SomethingSomethingBigToe!

Boy Child: You like it?

Me: Um, YES!

Boy Child: I’ll do the other one.

Me: No. NO! I really think I just want to keep it on one side. Asymmetry!

Boy Child: You don’t like it.

Me: I do! I do!

Before leaving the pedicure place, I purchased a bottle of the pearlized white because that’s what you do when you’ve been given an unexpected sloppy love toe that will need fairly immediate removal and reworking.

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(Yes. That is a gigantic photo of my love toe. I cropped it and blew it up and filtered the heck out of it so it didn’t scream TOE! because that’s really not who I am, you know? That’s not who I am at all.) ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

I sort of love that we’re living in a Gilmore Girls episode, but this isn’t the one I would choose.

Before we adopted Graham and Chip, we filled the house with cat stuff and were totally excited to have feline buddies under the roof again.

Now that a few months have passed, I’m Googling phrases like “my cats attack me all night long” and “I won’t declaw but something has to be done.” When I got up this morning I had blood dripping from the left side of my face and dried blood inside my left ear. (This happens nearly every day. Chip likes to wake me up by slapping me in the face, which is something I would never tolerate from anyone else, yet I tolerate it from my cat son.) My ankles are no longer ankles. They are cat attack scabs.

The cats were kept in cages during their stay at the college and before that they were in a cat hoarding situation. In other words, it hasn’t been easy for them.

I love the cats. I love the cats. I love the cats. (I do love the cats.)

I really need to figure something out. (I won’t have them declawed.)

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Just a bit more like a pretzel.

Today marked 50 days in a row of yoga.

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Going from 0 to 50 has taken me from falling over when I try to balance on one foot to being able to do what I’m doing in the photo and it’s certainly not a huge deal in the story of a life well lived, but it may help me postpone the breaking of a hip before it’s my time to break a hip.

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Saturday!

1. Got up at 830ish.

2. Drank coffee.

3. Took dried pinto beans and threw them into the pressure cooker. 40 minutes later? PERFECT BEANS!

4. Ate beans.

5. Ate more beans. With apples.

6. Worked on freelance.

7. Folded laundry.

8. Drank coffee.

9. Beans!

10. Walked around the neighborhood with Jeff.

11. Sat down with a book. Fell asleep.

12. Went out for burritos and to the mall.

13. Remembered NaBloPoLenta.

14. Still ahead: Throw sheets and blankets into the dryer because I’m still trying to shake my crazy neck fungus! (I feel very pretty.) Print out my reading for church tomorrow! (It’s a long one, and because it’s a Psalm (27), I may try to sing it.)

15. If the cats attack at 2:00 and I do the whole “can’t get back to sleep” thing: Learn Hebrew. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

Zoonotic supersonic!

Last night I dyed Harper’s hair.

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This morning I joined a friend for a historical bridge demolition.

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(I’m not sure why a few people brought American flags.) The bridge took about five seconds to go down, and that reminds me of a few girls from my high school and HA HA HA HA HA!!!! (I don’t deserve a website.)

This afternoon I went to visit my doctor, and because I’ve been working on a test bank for nursing students in my spare time, I sometimes feel like *I* am a doctor which is the most annoying type of patient to have if *you* are a doctor.

Doctor: I’m not completely sure that your symptoms are related to your medication, but we can proceed as if they are. A lot of people have been suffering from gastroenteritis lately…

Me: But you can’t tell me their names. Because of HIPAA. Also, this is probably nothing, but while I’m here I’d like to show you the rash on my neck. I’ve had it since December and it hasn’t responded to hydrocortisone or jojoba oil.

(Yes. Now that I’m moisturizing my face with olive oil, I also try to medicate myself with jojoba and tea tree oils. I still shave under my arms, although I rarely go sleeveless. I haven’t yet invested in hemp underpants.)

Doctor: Hmmm. It looks like contact dermatitis, but… No! It’s definitely a fungal infection! Those are highly contagious. I’m going to hook you up with some Ketaconazole.

Me: WE ADOPTED CAT BROTHERS IN DECEMBER AND GRAHAM HAD A FUNGAL INFECTION IN HIS EARS!!!

Doctor: Does he lick your neck?

Me: No.

Doctor: Does he sleep on your pillow?

Me: Um, yes. Often. Because we’re in love.

Doctor: You need to go home and wash your pillow cases and don’t wear shirts more than once before laundering them. Be sure to get a fresh towel after every shower.

Me: TONY ORLANDO & DAWN SANG A SONG CALLED “CANDIDA!”

Doctor: It’s not candida.

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About the Pudding!

Last week a good friend of mine told me that she had read my About the Pudding page, and was wondering if I ever thought about updating it. I looked it over this morning, and: It is time. Here we go, 2016! (I’m not redoing every item. Just the stuff that no longer applies. Also, 25 at a time sounds about right.)

1. I’ve been pierced nine times—five times in my left ear, twice in my right ear, once in my belly button (also known as Billy Pancake), and once in my left nostril. Currently, the only “active” piercings are one in each ear and the nostril, although all other holes are still holey. (I think. I haven’t hit up Billy P. in about thirteen years.)

2. I was 67 inches tall in college. Two years ago I came in at 65.25 inches. This bothers me more than it should. My posture is ridiculous.

3. I try not to eat sugar, but I absolutely cannot resist a nonfat caramel macchiato with extra caramel. Or a doughnut. (Or a bean burrito.)

4. All of my subscriptions have run out.

5. I drive a light blue Hyundai Sonata named BlueLu.

6. I had my appendix removed during the fifteenth week of my first pregnancy. They tried to remove it using only a local anesthetic, but every time they went to cut I said, “Ouch.” so they put me out.

7. I had MC removed during my forty-first week of pregnancy. She weighed in at ten pounds and one ounce. Two of the other moms in the unit brought their babies in to have them photographed with my monster circus baby. I still don’t know how I feel about that.

8. I had Harper Rose removed during my thirty-ninth week of pregnancy. She was estimated (via ultrasound) to be a ten pound baby, but came out weighing seven pounds and fifteen ounces.

9. Jeff and I were married on October 20, 2001. Although we lived in Nashville, the wedding was in St. Louis. Our photos are terrible, but our music was divine.

10. We’ve had seven pets. Jeff’s cat, Luna, passed away in May of 2008. My cat, Sidney, passed away in July of 2014. Our sweet black cat, Ramona Quimby, passed away in December of 2014. Our current canines are Scout and Henry, and as of December 18, 2015 we adopted two cat brothers—Graham Cracker and Chocolate Chip.

11. I work from home as an editor monkey, and because of that I’m the luckiest person I know.

12. If you meet me when I’m drunk, I’ll tell you that my name is Samantha. With that said, I haven’t had a drink since February of 2014. (Alcohol = Migraine!)

13. Although I normally get squirmy around the number 13, April 13, 2013 was a very lucky day for me.

14. I am hopelessly drawn to creative people with fun hair, bean burritos, and doughnuts. (I realize you can take this sentence many different ways. That’s fine. I’m also hopelessly drawn to wordplay. (But not Coldplay, except for Parachutes.))

15. My worst childhood memory involves vomiting cake doughnuts in Dayton, Ohio. My dad gave me a cherry Lifesaver afterwards to clear my head.

16. I think Carol Channing, Ashley Judd, and Naomi Judd are despicable. I will never join them for lunch, nor will I ever open the door for Elisabeth Hasselbeck or Celine Dion (unless they have doughnuts).

17. I have voted: Dukakis, Clinton, Clinton, Nader, Kerry, Obama, and Obama. (A few of you are high-fiving me in your head. A few of you will never return to my website after reading this fact.) I’m currently wearing a Bernie shirt, but I’m not being an asshole about it.

18. I feel fairly confident that no one has ever called me an asshole. I could be wrong, but I might just be one of the nicest people you barely know.

19. I have Georgia O’Keefe’s hands tattooed on my left leg and the word Create tattooed onto my left forearm.

20. My first job was at Baskin-Robbins. I was almost fired when I put too many almonds on a fudge round ice cream cake.

21. I went to the University of Missouri on a piano scholarship and I forfeited that scholarship during my freshman year. I changed my major seven times during college and I still don’t feel like I’m doing what I’m meant to be doing, although I do love doing what I do.

22. My bones break when I run, and it took four stress fractures for me to finally give it up.

23. Currently on my refrigerator: school lunch calendar, expired Old Navy coupon, 2015 calendar in the shape of a tooth, Yoga Camp calendar, 2015-2016 calendar of school vacation days, list of people for whom I want to do nice things.

24. I bought a spinning wheel in July of 2011. I need to spin more often than I do because spinning = meditation and meditation = good.

25. My grandpa communicates with me by turning out streetlights as I drive or walk past them. ‘ ‘ ‘text/javascript’>

The angel and the dreamer who sometimes plays the fool…

I almost threw this guy away when his final bloom fell into the sink four months ago. Instead, I let him sit neglected in the corner window of the kitchen and I can’t remember the last time I watered him.

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He’s back. It’s a miracle.
(And he’s drinking again. Responsibly.)
This morning he put on his Starsky and Hutch t-shirt and sang this song to us.

As a result, everyone in the house is feeling starry-eyed and hopeful and the cats just can’t stop hugging each other.

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