Remember me?

My name is Meg and I used to update you regularly on my life but it's been so "out there" recently that I didn't think it wise to memorialize the events that transpired and I'll leave it at that. Well, I will say that I'm good, it wasn't me this time.

:):):)

Anyway, I would love to tell you were I am at the moment but I recently learned that the absence of that particular piece of salacious info is driving my EX crazy. To add to the fun, his wife is wondering as well. They don't know if I'm in Juneau or in the house down the street. I would have never thought that it would matter and I had every intention of telling you when I got here. But this is unexpected fun for me and I have so little fun that I'd appreciate it if you just let it go for now. Thanks.

My dog is having someone adjustment problems since we left Georgia and it's finally occurred to me that all he needs is me. So, I've been sleeping in the east facing Florida room with Payton and I've been spending time with him. It's a pain in the ass but he deserves it. He has served me well over the years and like many of you, I think a novel AND a Penny Marshall movie about MY dog would be totally appropriate. I picture him as one of those dogs who would sit on my grave until he died. Anyway, I'm trying not to die and he just wants to be next to me...preferably positioned between me...and the entire universe.

I tried to be strict and I went all Alpha dog on him to no avail...but spending time with him has been much better. When I get back to my own place, it won't be a problem. Suddenly he has to share me with another dog, 3 children and an occasional adult. One way or another, my place in Georgia was his Tara and he wants it, or something equally as stable as it was. So, in the meantime, I'll spend my nights sleeping on a blow-up bed with my dog. He loves me, I love him and neither one of us wants to be without the other.

So for now, I'll just hang with my buddy. There's a big field at the end of the street and I can take Payton down there to play. But, I have heard (from a kid) that the land was private property. I'll keep going until I see a sign or a large flannel shirted, blue jean hanging, suspender pants pulling, tobaccy chewin' yahoo with a 12 gauge. I might stay long enough to assess his affect but for Payton's sake, I should probably rethink that. Cops and rednecks like to shoot so I shouldn't push it.

DISCLAIMER: I did NOT mean to imply that cops really like to shoot. That was just funny to me. Good job guys...you do the best you can...don't you? Anyway, I'll pick on cops just like I would tattoo artists...I'm an equal opportunity picker-on'er. That's all, folks.

I'd really, really like to be sitting in IHOP or some other such pancake/waffle/crepe filled wonderland. I'd try one of each...a cheese filled, blueberry covered blintz for the crepe, strawberry pancakes and a waffle that included, amongst a few other ingredients, sliced pecans. There would be berries on all three of my concoctions...real maple syrup...oh, and real butter...lots of it. Yum.

There's only one problem...I don't want to get dressed and primp just for a few plates chock full of carbs and immediate release sugars. I just want to eat it all. I suppose I could actually MAKE that stuff, but I doubt that there are any pecans here. Of course, I could be wrong.

On second thought...I'm probably right. I KNOW there's a waffle iron...and that was lucky. I seem to have everything I need to know to cook but there is one thing that impedes my cooking mode...a little girl who wants to help.

She's as sweet as she can be, gives me hugs and tells me she loves me...how can you resist such a sweet thing? So, I give her easy things to do and she's happy to do any task I assign her...and smiles broadly as she does it. Kids are cool.

Anyway, I've talked enough about food that I find myself in serious need of some Fruity Pebbles. I WILL be back soon.

:)