While we are getting ready for our long waited vacation, Callie, the dog, is unaware that she’ll be boarded at the kennel tomorrow where she can bark to her content.  We knew she barked or even shrieked there because she had no voice left by the time we picked her up.  That was just for a long weekend.  Imagine this time. Three weeks long.  I think she will sign with her paws in order to communicate with us when we return.

As I was packing and moving around, I was overwhelmed with guilt because we wouldn’t see her for 3 weeks.  At this moment, I can care less about her diet or she should look as skinny as Paris Hilton.  In order to make me feel better, I gave her a treat each time I passed her.  She probably wondered what she did today to deserve so many treats.

It’s called Honey Bucket here.  How did they come up with this name?  Is it because the color of you-know-what is similar to honey?  I am very certain that it is not the smell.

Today, we took down the plastic prelit artificial Christmas tree.  I know.  It is late, but it was nice to see the tree lit up during the cold nights in January and enjoyed its beauty and glory without the stress and headache.

While I was putting away the Christmas cards that were proudly displayed on the mantel, I discovered one that perfectly described the holiday season.  It was from Pat, our only celebrity friend, an author, whom I have begged constantly to put me in her next book and I don’t care if she kills me in the last paragraph on page two - Well, I don’t want to vanish too quickly in the book.

Isn’t that the truth?  Suddenly, it reminded me the sign on our bathroom door downstairs.  Matt put the sign up for the medieval fall feast last year.  Yes.  We still have the sign up.

I was comfortably wrapped in my blanket watching a free movie from NetFlix on my laptop.  Not that the movie was deadly boring, I must have been so tired and I fell asleep.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz…

For whatever the reason, I opened my eyes.  Out of the corner of my eyes, I saw Matt quietly standing right behind me like a ghost.  It scared the hell out of me.

“You were going to kill me, weren’t you?  Thank goodness.  I woke up just in time before you had a chance.”

“You didn’t see the pillow in my hands, did you?”

I have known this person from work for a long time.  Let’s call her, Fifi.  Fifi has very good upbringing and absolutely does not use any bad words, or any word that slightly has a negative meaning.  Therefore, when she doesn’t like your ideas, she always ever so gently says, “Interesting…”  And then she just lets it hang in the air.  The awkward silence makes you really uncomfortable.  You just keep shifting your balance from one leg to the other looking like you are severely constipated.  After you tell her a very juicy gossip which is so exclusive that only she and you know about it, her comment is, “Interesting…”

So, I began to do the same to my boss at work.

“Did you read my email?  I need your opinion.  How does that paragraph sound?”

“Interesting…”

“What do you mean?  Bad?  Should I tweak it?  I want your honest opinion before I send it.”

“Interesting…”

“You are fired!!!”

“Interesting…”