Ford Ferraris

I'm sick of not blogging. My home computer continues to freeze every time I visit Blogger, whether to visit other sites or just peek at mine. So how am I managing to get this one up? By blogging at work.


Shhhhh! Don't tell anyone. 


I rationalized the decision as the best way to increase my office productivity. Instead of sitting at my desk pining about my blog, I'll whip out a post and then tackle the pile of crap on my floor that needs attention:

Blogging is so much more fun than cleaning. Although I am looking forward to finding my desk again.

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The Professor has a steel trap mind for unimportant and usually annoying details that he likes to trot out during arguments or casual conversation. Dillypoo, on the other hand, has trouble remembering what she ate for breakfast.

I think he secretly enjoys recalling some travesty of justice committed on my part, like forgetting a date or asking him to repeat what he said 10 minutes earlier. Sometimes our conversations mimic my parents, except I am my father and he's my mother:

The Professor/Mom: "We have to do this thing next weekend at that time with those people."

Dillypoo/Daddypoo: "OK."

The Professor/Mom: "And then we're meeting you-know-who afterwards to discuss something important."

Dillypoo/Daddypoo: "OK."

The Professor/Mom: "We'll need to take the whatchamacallit, too."

Dillypoo/Daddypoo: "OK."

The Professor/Mom: "Are you listening?"

Dillypoo/Daddypoo: "Yeah. Did you say something?"

But most of his tidbits of stored information involve some error of judgement or confusion of fact on my part, usually those that make me look foolish. For instance, I once mistook a vintage Chevy driving down the road for an old Packard. To my chagrin and his delight, all cars built prior to 1955 are now referred to as Packards.

So it's a special occasion when I catch The Professor in a flub. While I may not remember the details to laud before him during some future debate, I can blog about it in the present.

Revenge is sweet.

Saturday, a little convertible GT raced passed us and The Professor gasped, "Did you see that?"

Dillypoo: "What? Where?"

The Professor: "There! A Ford Ferrari!"

Dillypoo: "A what???"

The Professor: "Uh....I mean..."

The sun shone brightly for a moment and I think I heard angels sing. The Professor, who has motor oil coursing through his veins, had grievously misidentified a classic car!

I mean, it would've been one thing had he called it a mini-Packard. But a Ford Ferrari? Giggles and glee filled me from inside. I had only to wait.

And remember.

Opportunity presented itself later that afternoon in the Costco parking lot. As we searched for a parking space, our paths crossed with another sporty convertible and I yelled, "Look out for that Ford Ferrari!"

I couldn't help myself.

The Professor looked at me and grinned sheepishly. Because he knows that from this day forward, all convertibles will now be known as Ford Ferraris.

Falling Into Bad Habits

I've stopped blogging.

I'm eating out too much.

I'm not running as often as I should.

I've gained three pounds.

Dillypoo is kicking her inner child back to the curb and taking control again. See you again very soon.

Post Halloween Sugar Crash

Yesterday was Dillypoo's favorite holiday, Halloween!

Want some candy, my pretty?

It's the day I get to dress up and be silly, more so than usual. I was a witch this year (surprise!). Raise your hand if you're shocked I had this ensemble already hanging in my closet:

Note to self: hip thrust poses result
in a pregnant looking Witchypoo.

Halloween is also the one day of the year I allow myself to eat candy. A lot of candy. For weeks I've been looking forward to sitting on my porch and sharing a cauldron of sweets with a few hundred trick-or-treaters:

One for you, one for me, one for you, one for me...

I ate five or six fun size candy bars before switching to Twizzlers and Tootsie Rolls. I stopped counting after awhile and simply enjoyed the decadence of eating sweets like a 10-year old.

Trick or treat! Gimme something good to eat!

These undead little lovelies were very sweet. And scary.
I'm not sure what the little monster was, but at least
Harry showed up with his wand to protect Dillypoo!

The goblin invasion lasted until about 9:00, when all of the porch lights on my block mysteriously went dark. I still had a few treats left, so I bagged them up and gave them to The Professor. He had strict instructions to take them to school and share with his students or toss in a campus trash bin. Just get it out of the house!

Today I am basking in a sugar coated haze re-fueled by three cups of coffee. I probably should've risen at 5:30 for a run. Instead, I let my inner child enjoy an extra hour of sleep after last night's indulgence.

Poor thing isn't used to such pampering! She better not get used to it again, either. Tomorrow, we're getting up early.

Boo!