DIET COKE - blech

I hate Diet Coke. Not only do I not like the taste, but it tricks me into thinking it’s a suitable choice.



Let me paint a picture – I’m grabbing lunch, lets say at Subway. “Do you want to add chips and a drink,” the lady at the register asks.
Sure do, so she hands me a cup and my sandwich. I head over to the fountain drink station and analyze my choices: Coke – so good but not worth the calories, Sprite – no caffeine, forget it, Mountain Dew - presents the same problem as Coke and doesn’t taste as good, Ice Tea or some crazy minute maid lemonade – too much sugar and not really good. The last choice DIET COKE. Well, it does have caffeine and zero calories, it will do. I don’t want to stand there like an idiot for an hour so I choose it out of pressure too.

I get back to my cube and begin eating my sandwich and sipping on the DIET COKE – YUCK. I’ve been tricked again. Not only do I hate the taste –I’m mad that I was tricked into thinking it would be an ok supplement to my lunch.

This scenario repeats itself whenever a soda choice is to be made. Yes, you may think I would learn my lesson, but it’s that tricky, tricky soda! Not to mention all the people that love it. They order it with excitement so I think, “maybe I don’t really hate it that much,” but I DO!

DIET COKE you make me mad!

Puppy's are cute .... until they get sick.

I know, some of my earlier posts show great pictures of my cute Sammy. To get the real picture, I probably need to upload a video. I'll work on capturing one that shows her true spirit.

To all of you dog owners out there - I know you can relate. To all the non dog owners, you are smart and probably live in clean house. This story may disgust you, sorry. Most importantly, to all the potential dog owners. The people that love puppies and their soft fur, slobbery kisses and spunk - WARNING TO FOLLOW.

She may look cute but she can be NASTY.



Sammy went through a phase where she caught every stomach virus imaginable. It was bad. Fiance and I would come home, run to her kennel with our fingers crossed - please say she was able to hold it! To often we were dissappointed. You couldn't help but feel horrible for her. She didn't want to be in her own filth, she couldn't help it. We took her to the vet so many times my wallet was in more pain than she was.

It was getting to the point where we couldn't keep up with the shit (literally). I was so stressed at work (what else is new) and Fiance was sick too. I came home to find him moaning on the couch. When I went to check on the dog there was runny brown shit all over the basement carpet, the kennel AND the wall behind the kennel. I am not faint of heart but the shear mass of it made me want to cry.

Muttering under my breath at my luck to have both a sick boyfriend and pet, I filled a bucket with soapy water and heading to my poop prison.

It was two steps down the stairs before my feet came out from under me.....The soapy water went vertical and I tumbled down the stairs. Standing bruised and battered at the bottom of the stairs examining the diahreha covered carpet, I sobbed.

I sobbed as I scrubbed each section of the floor. WHY DID I WANT A DOG? WHY, WHY, WHY.

The sickly fiance wobbled to the top of the basement steps to check on me. He started gaging from the smell and his own virus - Tear stained I screamed at him "GO AWAY, I can not handle cleaning up your vomit on top of this!"

I can laugh at it now but potential dog owners - Don't let those puppy dog eyes fool you!

I don’t like IKE

Ok so I’m going on the sixth day without power at home. I’m getting frustrated but there is NOTHING I can do about it and there isn’t anyone to blame.

I know the AEP crews are working day and night. I am very thankful for their hard work. Most of all, I’m thankful for the mild weather. The days are warm and the nights are cool.

It just so happens, prior to the storm weekend, I was out of town several weekends in a row. So how does that pertain? Well, I hadn’t cleaned the house or done laundry for over a month. That means no underwear and tumbleweeds of animal hair.

Sunday, I was right in the midst of cleaning and doing laundry when Ike started knocking. He wanted my attention so badly; he threw a tree on my house and took my electricity ransom. OK, I get it—you are a powerful storm. I’ll give you the respect you are looking for and walk around the neighborhood checking out the damage.

So that’s how my house was left—with a tree on it, laundry in the washing machine, and cleaning supplies all over the house. I didn’t think this was that big a deal, a couple days and I could resume.

Monday was an adventure – Work had power, so I had to get there like all is normal. It gave me an opportunity to check out the news, and see how widespread the damage was. It really WAS widespread.

Fiancé didn’t have power at work but they made him come in to FILE papers – are you kidding me? On the way home, get ice and find batteries for flashlights. At home, get out the propane lantern, grill out any food that will spoil, play scrabble by candlelight.

Tuesday was about ingenuity – I exercise near work, so luckily there was power. I got up early to workout; my reward was power. I got to use a hairdryer and enough light to put makeup on. At work – power up the laptop that can run about 1.5 hours of DVDs for entertainment.

On the way home—discovering what restaurants were open for food. If they were open, it was due to generators.

Fiancé tried hooking up a converter to the car for some power. When that didn’t work, he ran an extension cord across the street to the neighbor that has a generator, classy. Didn’t really work though, every time a car ran over it, it came unplugged.

Wednesday my frustration was mounting. This was the day that I checked the news at work to read AEP projected our power would be restored on Saturday. This meant no more hurrying home with hope that a light switch would work.

This was also the day I showed up to work and asked if everyone else’s power had been restored – it had. I trudged home and fished out all the clothes from the washing machine—Ike stopped it in the middle of the rinse cycle. It looked like cotton soup.

By Thursday, Fiancé and I had been at each other’s throats. He would tell you it was all me; but I’m too mad at him to take responsibility. Luckily on Thursday I had dinner with the girls. Are you reading between the lines here that EVERYPLACE in the city has power except me. Well it was good to get out and not be sitting in the dark. I came home and argued some more with the Fiancé—the adventure is over.

It’s Friday, and I’m tired of this. I need clean clothes. I’d like to cook. I need to clean out the rotten refrigerator. The dishwasher is starting to smell. The clothes from he strained cotton soup are getting moldy.

I have an overwhelming pessimistic feeling that power will come on Saturday. Which means my weekend will be obligated to cleaning the reminents of Hurricane Ike INSIDE my house.

Where's my house?

I think it's under this tree!

Momentary Love Affairs

CORN ON THE COB

Right now, right in the peak of the corn season, I could eat corn on the cob for every meal—Slathered in olive oil and sea salt after boiling on the stove or charred black from the grill and rolled in margarine specked with herbs.

The fresh corn right now is available in such abundace, I am expecting my overindulgence to last me through the winter. Fiance tells me that Native American’s had problems with their diet because they ate too much maize (I don’t really hear him over my excitement for my next indulgence). Seriously though, besides the tons of butter and salt I slather on each ear, how bad can it be.

I prepare my corn with a meticulous routine. First the butter or olive oil – whichever I fancy that day, it is drizzled or spread on with one hand while the other hand rolls the ear for even distribution.
Second the same process is used for the salt, one hand spins the ear while the other hand sprinkles the salt.

Each bite releases the tiny kernels into my mouth. Like a typewriter my teeth chomp down the ear. Once the kernels are released into my mouth, more joy. They are plump and burst in my mouth.

How sad I am when the ear lays naked on my plate. I am tempted to pick it up and suck the remaining salt and butter off – Looking at Fiance for approval, he laughs and shakes his head – OK I suck on what’s left of the ear - The sweet and salty joy

I even love the corn fiber that gets stuck in my teeth. For hours I pick it out and remember the satisfaction received from that Ohio Sweet Corn.

I usually end up some time in winter buying corn on the cob and being deeply disappointed in the quality because it isn’t the same just picked yesterday local product I’m used to. That is how my love affair will end until I’m reunited next year.

Assassination attempt

Orville Redenbacher tried to kill me today - assassination via combustible popcorn.

I only put it in for ONE minute. Popcorn man, you are on my list.

The official end to summer

So Fiance and I ran ourselves ragged this weekend trying to cram in every summer activity before its too late—before the gray ceiling collapses on us, forcing hibernation.

Before I get all gloom and doom about winter – I’ll highlight the summer fun from the weekend. Side note: I wonder if a profession in marketing has dulled my writing skills—paragraphs whittled down to bulleted lists and highlights.

OSU Buckeye Game – fun but HOT. Smooshed in between big sweaty guys, the heat beat down and stole all the moisture from my body. The bucks won in a landslide while I had to take frequent water breaks.

Fiance’s nephew’s (soon to be my nephew) third birthday party in the park – good thing we didn’t tailgate at the OSU game earlier in the day. Don’t want to be THAT aunt and show up drunk at the kid’s b-day party. It was a pretty afternoon and a nice park.

Rinehart Family Fun Day – Every year Fiance’s family goes to a hunting and fishing club to spend the day outside. It’s great outdoor adventure with camping, fishing, swimming and eating. Sammy got to come and earned her new name – Fishdog. She is still limping from playing too hard. Pictures below of a truly happy and DIRTY fishdog.



While camping at Rinehart Family Fun Day, fiancé cracked me up by getting drunk and scared sleeping in the tent. He made me sleep with a tomahawk beside me. Once he came to bed, he kept whispering “wait........ shhhhh, do you hear that” all night long. It was funny until the alarm at the nearby prison went off at four in the morning. I look over and Fiance is clutching the tomahawk at his chest with his big round eyes wide open. Ok, at that point I got a little scared too.

It made for good laughs the next day. Especially because Fiance is NOT the type to be scared - he kept coming to check on me in the tent to make sure I was still sleeping safe and sound - uncomfortable and passed out was more like it.

AHHHH SUMMER. The only way I can let you go is to submit myself to the craziness that is FOOTBALL SEASON.

Look for these fun and exciting future posts:
Franklin and spray bottle insanity
new momentary love affairs
fantasy football
and much more
(yep, marketing has corrupt my writing skills)