Our new bundle of joy...

Not a single post in February, Pollywog? Nope, been very busy. Quite busy indeed. Lots of school (which sucks by the way). Joined the gym hoping to lose the 10 pound that Boyfriend's fine cooking has added to the ol' bag of bones. And here is the biggest thing, a new addition to the family.

Announcing the adoption of our girl, Justinie Halloweenie!!!

Justine was raised by our friend and coworker, Monica, as a guide dog for the blind. The dogs are raised and socialized until they are about 16 months old and then they go off to guide dog school. There they have to make it through 10 phases before they graduate. Justinie made it to phase 8 and flunked out, much to our delight. (Sorry, blind people.) So, we had told Monica we would adopt her if she didn't make it. And her she is. By the way, she failed because of "food distraction". Hey, I'm food distracted too so she'll fit right in. And that's where she got the name Justine but we already have Monster and Ghost so she became Justinie Halloweenie!

Cats are not thrilled. Luckily, they are not scared but nor are they chomping at the bit to play with her. Justinie has had several swats to the nose. In fact, Monster was so distressed, he decided to give up his life as a cat and become a professional mousepad.

Anyway, we are thrilled and today is her 2 year birthday.

Happy Birthday, Halloweenie!

Why I live here.

Sorry the old Pollywog has been absent for a while. School started and then the stomach flu hit. I had one of those lovely moments where you feel you either have to start feeling better or die and honestly, you don't really care which way it goes. I would have been happy with either. Luckily, better was the way it went.

Reason for this post. I have recently been reflecting on why I live in my little mountain town. There has been a recent mass exodus to the big city by many young people seeking a better financial situation. It's true. My little town has a high cost of living, ridiculous real estate prices and low wages. I could make more money doing exactly what I do somewhere else. But there are many reasons I stay. Here a couple:

1. Right now, it is dumping snow. It's a fairly good storm and the second we've had. The first dumped about 2 feet of snow in 24 hours. Here's what I love. No one is complaining. At all. We love it. After the last storm, boyfriend and I decided not to dig the car out and walk to work. Being as the sidewalks were gone, we strolled down the middle of the street. Lots of neighbors were out shoveling. Was anyone complaining? No. Topics of discussion: How the snow was going to make the wildflowers amazing this spring. How the summer was going to be great. How the local ski resort will finally have a good season. No complaints. Snow is like a holiday around here.

2. I looked up from my desk on Wednesday and a good friend who lives in Ohio stood before me. Surprise. I've known him for probably about 10 years. I was introduced to him by my college roommate. How does this relate to my town? It turns out almost everyone I know knows him. It's fascinating to see the different connections. Boyfriend knows him from another friend of his. This other friend of his used to be my neighbor, which is how I knew him. Everyone in this town is one or two degrees of seperation. Another example, a coworker of mine won tickets to a concert on a local radio call-in thing. I know the deejay. When my coworker won, I was in the Caribbean. My coworker said where she worked and the deejay, on air, asked her if she was jealous of me being in the Caribbean. (I love that it was announced on the radio that I was on vacation.) Anyway, my coworker replied that she wasn't not jealous because she had just returned from Grand Cayman, where her two sons live, one of which we had dinner with while we were there. See? All connected.

I could go on and on. Point is I love it here and I will be devastated if it comes to the point I can't live here anymore which is a real threat. I have no idea where I will go. Do they need a librarian in Mayberry?

Molly spoke in class today

I just ran into a rare occurence. Didn't occur to me until five minutes ago. What are the odds of a musician staying around long enough to satisfy your headbanging needs at 19 but provide you with haunting melodies when you are 34? Don't see that much, do ya? But it's happened.

And who is this mystery fella? It's Mr. Eddie Vedder. I was just watching the video to Guaranteed from the Into the Wild soundtrack and thinking this:

The voices in Pollywog's head:
Voice 1: What a gorgeous melody.

Voice 2: What a gorgeous man.

Voice 1: What?

Voice 2: Eddie. Still gorgeous.

Voice 1: Oh my god, he is still gorgeous. I love him just as much but in a whole different way.

Voice 2: That's because at 19 you were attracted to his anger and his bad boy ways because you yourself were angry but now you are older and wiser and mellower and he has mellowed with you. Now you are attracted to him because you respect him and his music.

Voice 1: Yep, still wanna do him, though.

Voice 2: Me too. Pollywog. Me too.

But it's all true. I was sooooooooooo in love with him at 19. I even tried to look like him. I wore a lot of flannel and wore my hair hanging in my eyes. Even had the green army jacket. I'd crank my Pearl Jam cassette tape in my Ford Escort and bang head thus flinging aforementioned hair. If anyone can locate my good friend, Bob, of the time, he can confirm this.

I saw Eddie on something the other day with Sean Penn talking about the movie and I thought. "Wow, this guy really seems to have it together."

My god, I'm old. But it's okay. So is he.


Oh, and btw, news flash. I just saw Sinead O'Connor on the telly. She looks like shit. Just so you know.

C'est beau!

It's time for another list of what I learned on my vacation. This time, Little Cayman. British West Indies. (I love saying that.)




1. Sea cucumbers inspire one to invent the word "blobinous".

2. Boyfriend knows much about Avon's Skin So Soft. Perhaps too much.

3. I'm not sure how much I trust Dutch Peter, the maverick Dive Master.

4. Never defy Gladys. She'll hit you with a brochure.

5. Pink fish heralds the coming of the octopi.

6. Beware falling lizards.

7. Flip flops and lava rock don't mix.

8. Hermit crabs climb trees.

9. Two ladders tied together does not a lighthouse make.

10. When snorkeling above a shark, don't stop to think about how alone you are or how the boat is nowhere nearby.

11. Ubercrab owns the pier.

12. Driving on the left side of the road is fairly easy when the road circles the whole island and has no stop signs. Turning, however, is a bitch.

13. Oh boys, news flash. Drinking Baileys straight does not make it any more manly.

14. When the conch is booking it, make sure there are witnesses.

15. Burgess Meredith dwelt amongst the boobies and frigates.

Um, did I say scuba?

Update of the scuba diving class.

I hate scuba diving. Hate it, hate it, hate it. Could not possibly hate it more. Would rather have a root canal.

I was doing pretty well. We were in a training pool with a 4 foot ledge and the rest was 10 feet deep. Got through day one, but had some issues with one of the tests. That was taking the mask off underwater, putting it back on, and blowing through your nose to clear the water out of it. Had trouble with that.

Came home with a heavy feeling of dread. Couldn't eat dinner. Couldn 't sleep. Hated the idea of going into the water again. I'll say it. Scared. Very very scared of drowning.

Day two, Boyfriend went with me. We were being "buddies" and we were doing this exercise where he was suppposed to swim up to me, pretend to out of air, and I was supposed to give him my regulator (that's the part in your mouth that you breath through) and I was supposed to grab my secondary regulator and put it in my mouth.

What really happened was I took my regulator out of my mouth, gave it to him, couldn't find my second regulator, got a noseful of water, panicked, headed for the surface, Boyfriend be damned. Instructor tried to stop me. I hit him.

That was it for me. More than two hours later I still have water dripping from my sinuses. So, it looks like Little Cayman is going to be lot of beachcombing, reading and hammock time for me.

Hate it. Really really hate it. Snorkeling is cool though.

You were right, Braids.

Blog on Demand

My beautiful and dear friend, Braids, has tagged me to blog. Can't you see I'm busy, busy, busy. Finals are sneaking up. I'm going on vacation in a few weeks. The holidays. But just for you, my little redheaded bunny, I will blog but I won't play tag. Sorry, nothing personal, I just hate those chain letter sort of things.


She said she wanted 5 somethings "weird and random" about me.


When driving down an aisle in a parking lot, I have to park to the left. Just feels better.

Scottish men or any other man using a Scottish accent, especially Boyfriend, ranting about anything makes me laugh hysterically.

When I was young, I enjoyed banana and mayonnaise sandwiches. Now I'm allergic to bananas.

I'm scared of sloths.

I can't say "contiguous".



There. Now here's something not so random.


I snorkeled in the bathtub the other night. Here is why it is not so random. I'm going scuba diving in 15 days. Actually, that's a lie. I'm going scuba diving tomorrow but that's going to be in a swimming pool and that doesn't count.


Let me back up. About two months ago, Boyfriend walked into my office and said "We are going to the Cayman Islands to go diving for a week." I said, "Okay, sure, whatever." Why did I say this? Because Boyfriend is always telling me we are going somewhere and we rarely go. But then a few days later he walked into my office to tell me the tickets were purchased. Imagine Pollywog's look of surprise. Yep, looks like we are leaving on a jet plane. We are spending a week at a dive resort in Little Cayman, the smallest of the three Cayman Islands. 10 miles long, one mile wide, population 60.



















Anyway, I have to get certified to scuba dive. I just finished reading the manual and my theory and pool classes are tomorrow and Sunday. I will do my four open water dives for full certification at the island. But I did want to test my new mask and snorkel so I snorkeled in the bathtub. Turns out all these little intsy bintsy bubbles stick to the walls of the tub underwater and you can write your name in 'em.


So there it is. One random and one not so random thing. Now I must go to sleep and rest up for the big pool diving so I can get ready for this......

It's so true.

I know I haven't blogged in a while. Ever go through a period where everything you have to blog about is negative and whiny? I was waiting for something good.

My father used to say that the most important communication in any relationship always occurred in the kitchen. It's so true. Parties always end up with people packed in my kitchen which is the smallest room in my house.

Some nights, for no particular reason, Boyfriend and I will spend an entire evening in the kitchen. Last night, I got home from work and he was already in the kitchen making beef stroganoff. I made guacamole. Two great tastes that taste great together. So, we went into the dining room and ate dinner but after cleaning up, (and this has happened several other times) we end up staying in the kitchen with a bottle of wine and "70's Soft Pop" playing on the radio. We come up with a topic for conversation and laugh and laugh and laugh. Absurd statements are made such as "Wilcox? The question is when is he 'Won'tcox'?" and "Whereas I'm the mayor, I hereby declare this My Wife Dresses Up Like a Catholic School Girl and Blows Me Day" and my favorite quote of the evening, "The horns are still phat in Carpenterland. Andy GibbLand, not so much."
Occasionally, we run out of conversation which is good because it leaves time for stupid dancing. I've searched and cannot find but think of Joan Cusack dancing in the neck brace in Sixteen Candles. It's much like that. And it's usually to some fine piece of musical history like Another Saturday Night by Cat Stevens.
My point is I live for these evenings. Sometimes I get soooooooo focused on the crap I don't realize how much I need to let it go just for a night. There is never any warning that these evenings are coming, so it's such a gift when they appear.
Sometimes I think all I'll ever need is bad 70's tunes, a good bottle of wine and my favorite boy in the smallest room in my house.