This just in ... I am not a puppy

So my mommy lied, I know right?, and said Meja and I were puppies and we had to fly in the same crate to Colorado to see my Favorite brother Justin, don't tell Selby. We would have had to fly in separate crates if they knew how old we really are. Meja is 5 years old, she's a girl and doesn't like to tell her age. She's also my twin but I don't know what that means but anyways... I'm not telling you how old I am, let's just say I'm a puppy.

Colorado was cool. Justin lives up in the mountains and we could run and run and run. If we wanted to. Me, I just wanted to stay in the warm house. That running stuff is for, well, crazy dogs. No offense if any of my many readers are runners.

That's all for now. My mom doesn't let me on the puter much cause she says I drool too much. Well what do you expect mom? I've got a lot of face...

Bobo the Sharpei puppy (yeah right!)

Puppies are now actually puppies!

Thanks for playing 'what should Pam do'. I took your advice, and my own, and said the dogs were puppies. Totally flew, literally and figuratively. So now the dogs that everyone has always called 'the puppies' or 'the pups' can say they ARE pups, the airline said so.

Good Thanksgiving was had by all. I hope yours was good too. I left Colorado feeling good about the boys mental health. I guess as good as you can when you live 2000 miles away and can't tell over the phone. But I'm glad I went.

The pups were mildly pissed off about the whole thing. They loved the attention and Bobo with his graying flanks was all 'yeah I'm a puppy what of it??'. Meja was all 'yes I'm a baby girl', and she is.

So all is well in Sweetville.

have you ever

Have you ever said or thought something so horrible on the phone that you have to physically throw the phone after it's said? It's been happening to me a lot lately. I wonder if maybe the antidepressants aren't working?

So I'm back home having assured Justin is ok for now. Trying to find a solution to fly back with the dogs. With all my miles I can get me there, no problem. Dogs an entirely different story. I was talking quite candidly with a rep from Frontier airlines. She said the dogs could go in the same crate if they were <> 6 months old. To which I said 'ok, if I lie and say they are what are the consequences?', obviously I'm desperate here cause I'm willing to forget my morals so these dogs can fly together. She said 'well they probably don't look like puppies do they?', to which I said 'well kindof'. You see to me and those that know these dogs they've always been 'the puppies'. And they get away with it because they're cute and wrinkly and could really pass for big puppies.

So my question to you internets is 'should I lie and say they're < 6 months old because I know they'll pass and it won't traumatize them, or just bite it and let them fly separately? If you aren't a 'DOG PERSON' you won't even understand the question.

Thanks for playing... ly -- pam

Boy is ok

Mommy arrived just in time to feel like an idiot. All is well in the land of Justin. Seems as though some alcohol got through just in time to breach another couple brain cells. My speed dial to Frontier Airlines has now been removed.

Last night he said I'm going to kill myself

Mother Fucker said to me 'I'm gonna kill myself Mom'!!! What the fuckin fuck? How do those words come out of your mouth. No matter. I immediately went into Mommy mode and said 'How the Heck (the boys aren't allowed to swear around me nor I them) can you possibly say that to your mother' To which he said 'I really don't want to live anymore mom'. To which I said 'don't say that Justin!!!' 'Ok I mean it's ok to say it, but only if you mean it, and then 'you really don't mean it right' and then my head exploded.

And then I called his dad and said go get that boy immediately.

And then I finally got a hold of said boy and papi didn't call hime at all...

Mommy's getting on a plane tonight. Fuck papi.

She only has a small bubble

My sister says she only has a small bubble that she can allow friends/family into. These are her words. She actually verbalizes them!

She manages this bubble by intimidation. She's very passive/aggressive about it though. When you're 'in' she tells you the bubble is about to close. And you know you should be happy to be in it. You're one of the chosen ones for Gods sake. But when you're out of the bubble, God help you, no contact, no nothing. I just realized what it means to be 'out of the bubble'. I'd been 'in' so long I'd no idea the solitude that came with being 'out'. Happy Days Mother Fucker!!! I don't have to listen to shit!!!

Where have all the flowers gone

Long time passing... I'm in a melancholy mood. Trying to find my happy. Oh yeah I found it. It's in my brand spanking new breadmaker. How can you be sad when you have warm 18 grain bread??? Can't be. A warm piece of bread slathered with butter. Oh My Effing God I've gone straight to heaven.

In other news... I've decorated the whole house for Christmas already. Someone said to me yesterday 'aren't you supposed to wait until after Thanksgiving?' to which I replied 'Who says?'. I LOVE Christmas, I love the lights, the decorating, everything about it. After Jerry died, he sucks, I quit Christmas for a couple years but I'm back now! And the house is decorated folks, oh yes it is.

I remember years ago Jerry was next door at his momma's and he came back to our house, which I'd been very busy 'Christmasing-up' and he walked in in awe. He said 'this looks like a wonderland'. And I melted and died. He loved the picture I'd painted. And for years afterward he'd always complain that 'Pam REALLY decorates for Christmas' but in his heart he loved it!

As a matter of fact the last year when I was too sick to get the holiday stuff out, he got it out and decorated the ENTIRE house without me.

I love that mother-fucker!

Hello from Bobo the SharPei dog

I have taken over my momma's blog. Hello to all you people. I'm sure you already love me because my mom talks about me a lot and I'm pretty. I'm pretty gay. I don't know if you know that or not. My momma talks openly about it and accepts me.

I'm a very friendly SharPei dog. I guess most people think we, SharPei, are like Pit Bulls. I think it's very bad to paint a whole breed with a brush that isn't true if you don't know us. (I learned that fancy talk from momma) I have loved some Pit Bull's that were very nice to me and didn't try to eat me. I've also known some SharPei that Have tried to eat me (my sister Meja comes to mind). She has 'problems' as momma says and is in therapy. But if the bitch bites me again I'm gonna go all TuPac on her ass!!! I'M NOT KIDDING! I've had to go to the Dr. about eleventy times and get stitches because of her. But anyway, back to what I was saying:

SharPei dogs are very very good dogs, (just don't call them Meja!(

I passed out at the Eye Doc

Oh how much fun. So I was actually in the process of trying on the glasses, him adjusting the glasses, me saying not yet, him adjusting, me on the floor!!!

Just like that. Out.

I had an accident two weeks ago that I DO NOT remember at all. I thought it was because I hit my head, jaws of life, etc... But I, and the pups, walked (well not really walked - ambulanced away from it. They thought my neck was broken but I'd not a freaking scratch.

Truck totalled, dogs in jail for two nights, but not a scratch on any of us.

Now I think I may have passed out. Fuck me! Something else?

Anyway my glasses are cute!

He spoke me

I read a fantastical blog once and he said his son spoke him. I loved that phrase so much. I never knew what it was but I believe my husband spoke me. I certainly don't have the literary chops to have originally come up with it, but Jerry Sweet spoke me. I was Pam Kidwell when I met him. After a couple dates he said something along the lines of 'oh baby sweet'. I didn't become Pam Sweet for some 12 years after. But I was 'Baby Sweet' from that time on. He spoke me. How to recover from that?

Mad props to Black Hockey Jesus from The Wind In My Vagina for his originalness (of course that's a word!)

I've been thinking

I really haven't been thinking I've just been sad. So I've been drowning myself in boring make work for work (huh?) It's work I need to do eventually but I'm having at it like the deadline was yesterday. Just so I don't have to think. Damn I'm a sad case.

Ok on to more hopeful trifle. It snowed yesterday. The pups and my first snow since moving back to Michigan from Florida. And while I was filled with awe and wonder the dogs were all, WTF is THAT? And make it stop right now. I guess I'll have to break down and get coats and booties if they're going to walk with me. I can hear their dad again going 'For Gods sake no clothes'!!! But it's cold and they need the exercise.

Do you think dogs get depression? I do. When we lived in Florida I walked the dogs a couple times a day and when Bobo would see the leash he'd be all 'let'sgo let'sgo, youwanna go youwanna go'? I took about a three week break here and now he'll go but he really just wants to sleep. Maybe he needs a Zoloft. Nah he needs a walk. He's gained weight, but he looks bad ass with his studded Harley collar. Meja is wearing the Harley flame collar, she just looks dumb (don't tell). She really needs a diamond collar, she's a girly girl.

I'm digging my little bitty house. I moved from a 2500 sq ft house to a 650 sq ft one. I need to paint and make it cozy but I'm digging it.

Imagine a President with a genuine smile

Imagine if you will, a President that smiles and you know it's a genuine smile. Now that ladies and gentlemen is something we've not seen in a long long time. I'm looking forward to eight years of it.

Does thou protest too much

My husband was a cool dude. He just was. He emanated cool. He wasn't flashy, he wasn't trying too hard, he was just cool. I learned a lot from him. I learned that you didn't have to shout your greatness, your genius, your wealth, your cool, you just had to be. Those people that tell you 'I'm really tough, I can kick your ass. Or I'm so smart my IQ is 160, or I make X dollars so I'm better than you.' Those people are posers. Their self esteem is dictated by their 'that'.

How you are, how you carry yourself, that's the cool.

And as my big bad cool dude used to say 'if you don't start any shit there won't be any shit'!

Grace loves me

She smacked me upside the face yesterday and the bitch did today too. Thank God Barack Obama was on her side when she smacked me today. I couldn't vote today. I missed the cut-off in my new state to register. My heart was so heavy that I couldn't vote. For the first time ever in my life, I couldn't vote. I've voted in every single election I've ever been eligible to vote in. It didn't matter to me if it was for dog catcher (cliche I know) but I ALWAYS voted. And then in this one, this one! I can't vote???? YARGGGGGG Obama Obama Obama Obama. If I say it again and again does it count???

The Audacity of Hope

I can vividly, vividly remember Barack Obama's speech at the 2004 Democratic National Convention. THE AUDACITY OF HOPE!!! What profound words. The vivid pictures he painted in my mind. I remember thinking this young man is something, this young man is going somewhere, I hope this young man is not assassinated! Why would my mind stop in the rapture and think such a thing? Because in my lily white virginal world the good guys, the smart guys, the guys of color, do not get to power.

I also remember thinking he's attractive, he's tall, he's eloquent, he's real. You could tell, intuitively he had a great mind. And he was genuine. A genuine politician? Oxymoron? No, I don't think so. I believed this man. I believed this good, kind, smart, genuine man could lead us out of this shadow of death and destruction. And I believe it today.

What's troubling me is my first impression. Can someone so bold, so great, so new, so full of audacity as to espouse hope, live to make all of our dreams come true?

YES a resounding YES!!!

Grace bitch slaps me in the face

Ok so we live in a place that has about 50 acres out back. I rent a teeny little house but the pups and I have the run of the acreage. And we do. Well I don't run but you get the point. My neighbor has cut trails out and you can walk for what seems like ever. Maze like back and forth.

So the dogs and I were taking a walk yesterday afternoon and in my delusion decided to run a bit with them and try to hide in the maze. Yeah, long story short they're smarter than me. The bad thing is I'd put my iPhone in my bra so as to be ever ready to take that all important call, also to get a buzz from the vibrate if someone did indeed call ;)

Well no one called but I lost my phone!!! In the leaves somewhere in the maze of 50 acres!!! Tell me that doesn't deserve multiple exclamation points?

I searched and searched, called myself bad names, asked the dogs to find my phone, asked Jerry to find my phone, nuttin. I finally realized the futility of this search and came in and sent my beloved (not) AT&T an email asking how to get a new phone when the original purchaser (me!) was too cheap to buy the insurance.

Then in a burst of positive energy and life affirming good juju we went out to search again. And I found the mother fucking phone! Like a needle in a haystack of 50acres of piles of leaves I found the mother fucking phone!

I really do believe in Grace. That poem that I published before is something I say multiple times a day.

But... never in my wildest dreams did I think Grace would rise up and bitch slap me like this!!!

Grace

I believe in Grace

Please show me specific examples
of the abundant Grace
that's apparent in my life...

I believe in Grace

Hallowierd

I'd love to dress the pups in costume. But each time I think about it or look on-line for costumes I hear Jerry Sweet in my head going 'Oh Fuck no missy'. He sucks!

I did put one of my wigs on Bobo. He thought he was so cute. He's gay though so I'm not sure that's a valid compliment. When I figure out how to get my pictures from iPhone to here I'll post them. In the meantime imagine if you will a 65# black gorilla with too much face skin with ravishing curly red hair. He is cute, just don't tell him.