Really. That is the song. Oz got me hooked on it and I have to say…I'm a fan. I started writing this last night, but my page screwed up and it was lost…so let's try again, shall we? Isn't that the old OCD cheer? This morning is wild.

So…I'm going to start with the 19th. That is when my life officially took a turn into the Twilight Zone. My parent broke her hip. Now…I'm supposed to be her caregiver. Only she doesn't listen to me in the slightest. I was upstairs and my neighbor bursts into the house to tell me they've called 911 and she's in the street. Apparently, she was trying to clear a storm drain down the road because the news said it was a great idea due to a slight thaw. I didn't even hear her go out. I bring her hat…she grouses at the paramedics because she's trained and she knows it's her hip…and they move her onto a back board and rush her by ambulance to the hospital. I have to say I had a bunch of different emotions going for me. I packed a bag and followed. I'm used to this. I get there…and wait. Then, finally I get to see her. She's apologetic and says she needs to listen more. I'm…not pleasant. I've got so much going on in my life as it is and it's like…hip now? Really? That's a long thing to take care of. It means more running around like a chicken with its head cut off to take care of her, the dog, the house, school, and work. We wait and wait for a doctor to announce what the x-rays say. Down the hall there's a guy screaming and laughing about a fishing trip. The police brought him in…and at this point I want to be in there partying with him. I don't know if he's a nutcase or on something, but he sounds fun. I spend time trying to find somebody who can tell me when a doctor will be in. I even get this dumb little volunteer who tells me that a radiologist actually reads the x-rays. They do? I thought Nostradamus did. I left before the x-rays were read because I'm…moody. And it's dark by the time I get home to my dog. Before midnight I get a call. Broken hip…she has been in the hospital a week, had another surgery, and been moved to the rehab floor. We have gotten better at communicating and I'm supportive. It still doesn't mean it's not going to be difficult when she's discharged because…people are unreliable. I will discuss this and perhaps you will get it.

Every time something in life happens, a million people who are your friends, acquaintances, neighbors, blood…whatever…say they will be there for you. In my experience…this does not happen. I loathe hearing those words because I know who will be here for me after so many episodes. I've got my husband, I've got my parent, I've got my best friend, I've got my little neighbor I helped raise, I've got my dog, and I've got my snail. The Tribe? I guess…maybe. Depends on who is around and interested in talking. More on neighbors later.

Now…I have had an ongoing issue since December with school/work. I finally get e-mailed a resolution to this the other day. It's cute. Seriously. I laughed when I read it. And while that might be a bit…unwise…to write back to one's "superior"…I can't help myself. The issue itself was stupid. The solution? Is so cute I'm half sarcastic and half genuine. I might even take this resolution. Things are looking up, I guess, but first, there was all this talking back and forth in e-mail. More stress for me.

My dog. My dog is my little love…and he has an ear infection. I have experience with those with another of my dogs. Only…his vet is on vacation or something. The emergency number is disconnected. I do not trust another vet with him. So I'm treating it the best I can. Max is not a happy camper. He was groomed earlier in the month and they pulled the hair from his ears as per his vet's instructions (it's a breed thing). I knew the ear was red. The other day I see him shaking his head and scratching the ear. I check it and clean it. Not pretty. Max is pitiful and he slept in bed with me one night. It was adorable. He's a ball sleeper…my other dogs stretched out. His routine is all screwed up and…hey…he isn't happy. He is used to having meal after meal cooked for him. If he doesn't like something…something else is made. I do not do that. So…for a while Maximilian Thanksamillion wouldn't eat. Now? He eats for me. We celebrated his second birthday. He loves his new toy. We are doing fine now.

I will say I have been stressed out. I'm caught between a love affair with two captains. Captain Morgan at night…Cap'n Crunch in the morning. Not every night. And let's say I have been pairing it with other items. It's not a suicide thing. It's a…relax and I'm much more fun when I'm tripping the light fantastic. I write some fantastically weird things that are almost illegible. Husband is worried because of some of the side effects…we discuss the other items and suicide. We decide I need to behave. So I'm behaving. At least more often. Do I have a problem? With Captain Morgan and other drinks? No. With other things? I decline to answer here. Is it a big problem? No. I'm always the life of the party. And I can say proudly that I have not opened the pack of cigarettes sitting next to the computer. So…awesome.

My period is still epic. I'm fairly certain I'm anemic. Oh…and I've noticed I've stopped eating. Mostly. Like I said…every now and again some Cap'n Crunch. I'm never hungry. When it occurs to me to eat…I eat. It isn't interesting. Not much to say.

Today, I am awoken at 8.30 am (an hour that if I see…it's because I'm going to bed) by somebody laying on the doorbell like crazy. And when I say crazy? I mean it doesn't cease. Beating on the windows…opening the gate…beating on the windows in the yard…beating on the door…more bell…phone ringing off the hook. Guess who it is? That's right! My crazy neighbor who has moved back home because his girlfriend (one of the bearers of his five kids) kicked him out. And he's asked me out a couple times and it's like…uh…married. Now…this is him being controlling because…he loves to be that way. This is my cheap version of Christian Grey. Forty minutes he does this. I get annoyed when he finally comes into my yard and catches me at the window. I'm on the phone…I wave…I shut the shade. Enough of a clue? No. Repeat the other stuff. He's had trouble with the law before. I refuse to give him the pleasure of answering the phone or the door. Instead…I call the police from my phone. My parent calls the police from the hospital phone. Now…it should be mentioned…my town has Mayberry cops running around. They guard the local corner store. With anything else? It's like a comedy. They finally come over and want to know why I won't just open the door for my neighbor. He sounds like a concerned neighbor. He does? Last time I got called like twenty times in less than an hour and had somebody ring my bell about fifty times and beat on my windows about thirty times…it was called stalking…and that is not something you do. I ask what he has to be concerned about…at 8.30 in the morning. Or what business he has breaking into my yard. They look at me. They ask what I think he wants. I tell them he has some control issues and he has been told to stay away before. He's sweet on me? Yeah, sure. He's asked me out a couple times. And he's persistent? I'm like…I don't think that's what this is about. I'm married. Does he know? Yes. Well, they will tell him to stay off the premises. Why didn't I let them in when they first knocked and rang the bell? Because I thought they were him. Now…I get to rest.

At any rate…let me get to the title of the blog. It doesn't have much to do with this morning. When I was originally writing the blog…I didn't have that little last gem. The point was…when I get stressed out…I shop. Only…because I have a husband…I make him shop with me. No…I don't drag him out. I'm a night person. I can just easily call a store and have something shipped (Dior does deliver…I have the plushie to show it)or shop from an online store. I make him look at stuff. Because I have decided to re-vamp his wardrobe. And to decorate. And to buy myself some things. And to buy Max something. And to buy future offspring stuff. You can guess I've spent a great deal of money and annoyed my husband a great deal because he does not like shopping at all. That said…I think I really made a dent in my list in the midst of all this. I have gotten…a certain NFL touque, a pair of NFL gloves, an NFL hoodie, a week's worth of pants, a pair of shorts, eight pairs of boxer briefs, um…I've lost count of how many shirts…a map of Middle Earth, a set of Tolkien books, a plushie carrot, four dvds, two outfits for future offspring, cancelled a pedal vehicle for future offspring from Poshtots because it won't be in until the end of March…so it makes more sense to order it in April…and I don't even know what else. I've been trying to find a certain plushie dinosaur. If I've ordered anything else…I don't know. The Captain shops with me, as well.

Also, I've spent quality time with Walter, my snail.

And that's everything that's been going on in life. Thanks for listening for a bit and ciao.