Bridgey Speaks

For about two weeks now, Dave has been playing some tunes from Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny. It’s gotten a little out of hand. There is nothing more random than hearing the f-bomb dropped repeatedly among completely ridiculous lyrics followed by Natalie Merchant and someone singing in Spanish. Tenacious D and the mix Kristan sent are colliding in an odd and sometimes unsettling way.

However, when it happens on a daily basis, it starts to feel routine. I found myself singing to the dog while making dinner: “We are the D, we are the D, we are the D!” So, I asked Dave not to play it anymore that night.

Last night, my brother-in-law invited us to go see Tenacious D in The Pick of Destiny with him and his girlfriend. We figured, “why not?” So we did. I enjoyed it even more than I thought, partly because I knew a couple songs! It was a ridiculous, silly movie, but we had a fun time. The cameos are also hi-larious. While I still want to see Stranger Than Fiction, this was a perfect Wednesday night distraction that gave me a little more appreciation for my bizarre musical world these days.

Well, life goes on without the CRV these days as we cruise around in the wagon. Driving/riding in the wagon is sort of like eating at The Grill, which I like to say has a lot of rules. The windows on the right side don’t work. The power locks only work on the back doors. The heat and air require a certain amount of finesse to gt just right. The wagon also has interesting decor elements, including its primer paint job and ceiling fabric held in place with staples.

I keep telling Dave we need a Mini, but he and our savings goals seem to disagree. So we continue to cruise around in Betty, as we wait patiently for the nearly $4K in damage to be fixed on the CRV. The pix Dave posted don’t show the full damage sustained by poor, loyal Humphrey, but when he does return, he will at least be freshly washed and vacuumed. He will also have a lot of new parts on his right side.

Meanwhile, two weeks ago, Matt and Cindy visited for the weekend. We enjoyed light up night in our little town, as well as Phipps and multiple restaurants to sample the finest fries, pasta, and crepes.

And this past weekend was, of course, Thanksgiving, in which we enjoyed the customary feast with Dave’s parents and brother and went shopping en masse. We defeated the crowd with our divide and conquer battle plan and managed to buy presents and have fun despite the crazies on their cell phones. We also lost multiple rounds of Phase 10 to my father-in-law, with me, ever the optimist always suggesting another round. “How about the 10-round variation?” I would say, only to lose once again to his skill/luck. Good times.

And now it’s back to the grind for a few more weeks until the winter holiday. Maybe it will feel like winter by then, but for now, I am enjoying the unseasonable sunshine and 60+ degree whether. Keep sending us that Cali sun, Kristan, and I’ll keep rocking to track 12. (Thanks again for the tunes…)

I’m cranky. While we were sleeping, someone smashed up my car and ran away. This is extremely not cool.

The puppy dog is now 28.5 pounds and too long to comfortably hold in my arms. That’s not to say that I don’t hold her in my arms. It’s just awkward now. She is doing well.

After her vet appointment on Monday, she got to go to Petco, where she picked out a new toy. Dave has a policy: if she picks out a toy and carries it to the check out, she gets to have it. Leela picked out a giant hedgehog that is two or three times the size of her own head and makes a crazy snorty-squeak. She somehow carried it from the back corner of the store to the check out, so she got to keep it. She love this insane toy.

Meanwhile, training is going well. She can sit, down, stay, and we are working on roll over. She goes to her second Puppy Kindergarden class this weekend. She loves it there and will sleep for two days afterwards!

This was a mantra of my college roommate. I would try to figure things out that clearly made no sense, and then she would bring me back to reality with a quick, “But Bridgey, we defy logic.” Oh yes, I forgot.

My latest example comes from the Giant Eagle pharmacy, where I now have to purchase Alavert D, an over-the-counter medication. This particular allergy medication has pseudophedrine in it, so now I have to pick up a little card from the shelf and go over to the pharmacy and purchase it directly from a pharmacist. This is presumably to avoid me making crystal meth in my basement. Like I have that kind of time.

Anyhoo, I went up to the pharmacist with my little card and asked for the Alavert. I asked for two boxes, so that I could get along a little while without having to stand in line for the stuff again. The pharmacist tells me she has to check how much pseudophedrine is in it, and sure enough there is too much for me to buy more than one box.

Then she elaborates to say that I can only buy one box every 30 days. *Blink.* I look at her and say, “But these are 12 hour pills, and there are 24 in a box.”

“Uh-huh,” she says.

I pause. I keep waiting for the mental math to occur. Pharmacists are smart. They are good with tough things like biochemistry. They go to school for a long time to be pharmacists. This is simple math. I pause a moment longer. She just looks at me and finally asks for my ID so we can fill out the paperwork–that’s right, a record of how often I buy the stuff.

I sigh as the little voice in my head reminds me: “We defy logic.” Sniff.