Something New

This evening I tagged along with my friend Cassidy as she had her bridal portraits done.
I took a few pictures myself--from a distance. I didn't want to get in the photographer's way. I don't want to spoil the surprise of her wedding day, but she posted a couple on Facebook, so I think it's ok to post them here!
Obviously, I edited the photos a little. And I don't have Photoshop, so I did what I could with iPhoto. The evening sun was so beautiful and I wanted to give them a little "ethereal" boost.
It was really fun. And Cassidy is like, the most gorgeous person alive. And she takes good pictures.
It's disgusting.

In other news, we are puppy-sitting for the weekend. A friend from work left town and needed a place for her little dog Chewy to stay. So here he is.
He's normally an only child, so it's taking him some time to adjust to my crazy, retarded, rambunctious Yorkies. They don't quite know what to make of him.
They're so retarded.

But I love them.

Oh, how I love them.
I think it's a disorder.

Fabulous.

Yes, of course that's me!

Having the funk...

...is not all it's cracked up to be.

I've been feeling funk-y lately. I can't quite put a finger on what's the matter, but something just isn't right. My vision feels very "tunnel-y" at times, I'm tired a good amount of the time, and I find myself wishing I was out in the heat...sweating. Why do I want to sweat? Well, if I knew the answer to that, I wouldn't be sitting here blogging about it.
Actually, I'd probably be sitting here blogging about wanting to sweat because I'm always at work. At least it feels that way some times.

But enough of that.

I should probably go to the doctor to make sure I don't have cancer or something, but instead I've convinced myself that I have a vitamin deficiency. So I'm taking some multi-vitamins, giving up sodas for water, and continuing to exercise--which I already do a lot.
I recommend exercising. Not only because you'll have a hot bod if you do it, but also because it will cure most of your ills, I think.
If you're getting sick all the time, you're not eating right and you're probably not exercising much. At least that's what Women's Health Magazine tells me. And I believe.
I think my problem is that I don't eat right. Because I really, really don't. I haven't had a decent grocery-shopping trip in weeks. And even when I buy groceries I'm almost never home to eat them. And they get rotten and make my kitchen smell funky.
And I wonder, how the heck does that happen?
How does a completely non-career, part-time worker never have time to eat at home? I sit and try to think were all the time goes...and I still can't find it. What's up with that?

What I need are some healthy, easy recipes. And someone to write out my grocery lists for me and go shopping and come home and prepare the food.
Is that so much to ask?

I went through this huge cooking phase and it's kind of died off, but even then I was cooking unhealthy pastries and cookies and fatty-fat-fattykins casseroles, and those awful good apple pies. Boy, they were good.

I'll let you know how the vitamin-taking turns out. And maybe I'll even go to the grocery store...

P.S. Kingsley woke up and apparently "did wonderfully!" ...said the cheerful veterinarian nurse on the other end of the line.
My mother-in-law tells me that Fletcher has been enjoying the quiet life as the only dog in a house full of cats. Something he could never do if Kingsley were around. Well, I hope he enjoyed his one day of living with people and mature cats.
Maybe now that Kingsley's fixed he'll calm down? Yeah. Right.

My Retards

Tonight I chased my dogs around with the camera yelling, "Stay! STAY!"
Kingsley loves to have his picture taken...I think. He sits still and makes cute faces, and every time I take a picture he asks if he can see how his hair looked in it.

This is his "I'm in trouble" pose.

This is his, "What is that strange sound you're making?" pose.

Fletcher, on the other hand, HATES the camera and runs away from me every time I whip it out. I don't know what originally caused this aversion. After I yelled "STAY!" at him about 26 times, finally he stopped and gave me this lovely pose.

Kingsley is my baby.