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grrgoylMore excitement this weekend than I ever could have wanted (or bargained for). Friday night I had Oscar, a shih tzu that seemed in pretty bad shape: morbidly obese, could barely walk, severe respiratory issues, C. difficile infection, bloody diarrhea. The works.
He wasn't terrible for me other than having very labored breathing, and I felt confident that he'd be gone Saturday night, as most hospitalized cases usually are. I was mistaken. He was there, but seemed pretty much the same. He reacted more violently when I tried to get him outside, seeming not willing to walk at all, and once outside did nothing (strange for being on IV fluids for hours). I asked Tery about him. Normally dogs this sick are owned by little old ladies who can't walk them regularly. This dog, however, was owned by some rich woman who didn't have time to walk him regularly, whose idea of exercise was to get Oscar a puppy that he couldn't stand. Tery said the head doctor knew she had money and would pay anything without question, which is why he was still there Saturday.
Around 3 a.m. I noticed a strange quiet in Recovery. I realized it was due to Oscar having a seizure and no longer breathing. Oh god.
I tried the holistic approach at first (worked with another seizure dog I had once), talking to him, soothing him, trying to calm him down/snap him out of it. No go. I desperately pawed through the box of controlled substances looking for phenobarbital. All I could find was diazepam (Valium). I gave him a shot, no idea what dosage, and waited. No go. I went back and found the pheno on the second pass, gave him a shot of that. No go. (Later going back and reading up on these drugs, the book said they weren't advisable in cases of extreme respiratory illness. But I figured Oscar probably had nothing to lose at this point.)
By this time his tongue was lolling out and he was turning blue. Oh god. This dog was going to die. This dog was going to die and I had to sit here and watch every agonizing second of it.
(I of course tried to call the head doctor (whose case it was) for some assistance. She didn't answer, deep in her untroubled sleep, dreaming of all the money she was making off this dog that was going to die.)
I couldn't just watch this dog die. I'd have nightmares for months. I knew I had to intubate him. I had intubated a dog exactly once, when I came in during the day for some training and had two techs holding the dog plus another behind my shoulder walking me through every step. This was going to be nothing like that, but I couldn't make it much worse. His twitching had stopped but he still wasn't breathing, and growing weaker by the second.
I grabbed an intubation tube (they're all different sizes depending on the size of the dog's airway (the distance between their nostrils). I didn't have the luxury of precision so grabbed what looked best). I hooked it to an AmbuBag (a bag that pumps air when you squeeze it, a preferable alternative to giving canine mouth-to-mouth) and hooked it to the tube. I shoved it in his mouth haphazardly (his jaw was locked in a half-open position), squeezed the bag and prayed. And to my astonishment he started coughing. I kept it up, and he started breathing -- it wasn't pretty, but he was breathing all the same.
I called Becca, a vet tech who absolutely isn't required to answer her phone at 3 a.m. (unlike the doctor, in my opinion). She said she had a feeling he might go downhill. She said all I could do was put him on oxygen and see how he did. She apologized to me profusely, as if it was her fault the dog had flatlined.
I had never set up the oxygen tank before, but it was really child's play after semi-intubating a dog.
Oscar made it to the end of my shift. I left with a feeling of accomplishment and pride, tempered with the certain knowledge that he would probably be euthanized come Monday anyway. But, as Tery pointed out proudly, he didn't die on my watch (turns out I was half right -- first he was brought to a specialist hospital Sunday, where x-rays revealed his lungs and abdomen full of fluid. Soon after he was euthanized).
Tery was proud of me, but just as angry as I was that the doctor didn't answer her phone. Tery figured she'd have some excuse like how it was her night off and I should've called the other doctor. When I'm trying to save an animal's life, I'd rather not have to scurry around figuring out which doctor to call. I think it should be a team effort in an emergency situation, not a childish game of "whose turn is it?"
Meanwhile, Tabby thinks she deserves a raise because she can stamp invoices better than anyone else.
I'm attending a seminar next week on emergency medicine. It's paid training, and hopefully I'll pick up one or two helpful tips. My bigger hope, however, is that critical cases like poor old Oscar are sent off for the appropriate care before I start my shift.
~*~
Enough of that unpleasantness. Now I give you
The homes were okay this year, not quite as distinctive and unique as in previous years (look at me, turning up my nose at million-dollar houses); not least of which because their names were so similar it gave me a headache trying to keep them straight for this post. The whole program read like an Italian language lesson. I also didn't include any exterior shots, since they pretty much all looked identical except for slightly different shapes.
Tery said if you had this room you'd be all set if pink and black ever made a comeback. Otherwise we don't see this working for, well, anyone.
But it did have a Café Jacques at the base of the stairs
This "wall art" created the illusion of opening onto something more visually interesting
Bookcase with inset: Tery said leather-bound Reader's Digest books (which is what these are) didn't equal a quality library
For that matter, neither do faux cardboard book spines
We were all equally appalled at this desecration of a book for the sake of decoration
I loved the jaded look on her face. She looks like she's already fully prepared for teenager-hood
Unlike her brother, who is totally STOKED about his lederhosen
Deb-sized loveseat (she has a hard time finding furniture that doesn't dangle her feet off the floor)
This is the area just inside the front door. Tery said it was so your guests had someplace to sit while waiting for their pagers to go off for dinner
Unlike this awful garage door from 2 years back, the Belle Maison has an ACTUAL wooden door
Tery welcomes you to the Sede Felice
Tery and I easily imagined Kitten Mitten creating a throne on these rocks and refusing to ever come down. Thereafter envisioning her in all of the homes became a running theme
Gah! I want to read a book, but how do I know which one?
Cool portal looking down into the wine cellar. I guess it was roped off so only the wealthy homeowner could have the honor of scuffing it up
Bad shot looking down. It was a popular photo op, so had to be taken quickly
This guy cracked me up. He was obviously a contractor of some kind, because in every room he just attacked everything -- wanted to know how it was made, how it worked, and how it could have been improved upon.
Forget the stupid backward-facing library. I'll just read these.
Deb was quite taken with this dining setup. I probably wouldn't have minded it had it been anywhere else except just inside the front door.
The "mom's center." I guess being a mom is all about giving gifts. Or at least it is when you can afford a nanny and a cook.
"Thank you for not touching the walls" I had no urge to do so before reading this
Same sign was in here. I thought the tiny glass jewels was overdoing it just a tad (I think this bathroom was actually in the hall leading to the garage, so used mostly when you've returned from a day trip and absolutely gotta go right NOW)
Chi-chi-frou-frou bed. I hated it.
This kid walked into my shot, and I promised as payback I would put him on the internet. Here you go, jerkface.
What I was trying to shoot. It amuses us to imagine having ferrets in these vast houses. Tery thought that they would spitefully use this inaccessible part of the stairway to poop. I think she's right.
We looked out a window and noticed all these birds gathered ominously on just this one house
Later in the day, these emergency vehicles were seen in the vicinity. We'll have more respect for flocks of birds
A pink mostrosity of a girl's bedroom. Pretty much can't be used for anything else
Yup (the smaller mirrors have the words "BFF" and "Whatev" in tiny plastic diamonds)
There was, in reality, no hot tub to be found. Tery and I just liked saying, "ah-hot-ub."
This is the "des vues" -- Red Rocks Amphitheater. Not too shabby.
Perhaps this is the "hot tub." I took this because of the hideously oversized "spill-over" catch lip.
I liked this house very much, mostly due to this gorgeous indoor-outdoor veranda area (2-level, there's a basement level beyond that railing)
Bunny egg holders! I would eat hard-boiled eggs every single night
This wallpaper was a bit of a bold choice. I didn't care for it.
An odd staging prop -- an empty iPhone box. The closest Deb (or I) will ever come to the real thing
Another wallpaper choice I disagreed with.
This room was horrible. Actually more of a hallway with a bed in it, as the only way to the other stairway is through here. But the guy in the white tanktop is our hypercritical contractor friend.
Sink faucet ON THE MIRROR. How is this done? Magic, I say.
Visually interesting sink
Visually interesting art. This was made up entirely of bolts.
Microbrewery in the basement. Tery wanted to make an offer on the spot.
The big screen TV had these flashy (but I suspect ultimately very distracting) gaslight sconces on either side. Also, this lady refused to move according to Tery. Unclear why Tery wanted her to.
Tery and Deb enjoying some plastic beer staging props
This sink was awful. If the water wasn't turned on full force, it dribbled all over the rim of the sink. If you look closely you can see how close your hand needs to get to the rim to have any actual interaction with the water. Shame, Kohler.
A word about the entertainment centers in this year's crop: The trend seems to be moving away from home theaters (or "media rooms," I guess you'd call them) and more to a large TV out in the rec room or basement area. In a lot of these homes these TVs were projection screen and looked terrible. The one home that DID have a proper theater was playing The Incredibles on a 70" screen, but obviously not Blu-Ray because the picture was noticeably blurry. Even our 32" HD makes Pixar movies look like Blu-Ray with standard definition DVD. I expect much more from my million-dollar homes.
This was also the halfway point, where we decided to head to the car to eat our packed lunch (we knew 8 homes was going to be a long day). That morning Tery had spilled her Starbucks on her white shirt -- just a tiny spot, but she freaked out about it. We went about our day and she had just managed to let it go when she asked the ticket taker if she'd be allowed back inside and the girl answered, "No problem. You have a very distinctive shirt." Throughout our entire meal Tery could be heard repeating this phrase in the back seat under her breath.
This house was Tery and my favorite. The name means something like "The House of Old and New." It took the Best Overall award, so we must have good taste.
Ferret-sized bathtub
Front door. LOVE.
New! Video! Most of the homes had these awesome anti-slam drawers, mysteriously practically everywhere except the kids' rooms
Chandelier. LOVE.
The judges show their appreciation. Oh, get a room.
Microwave drawer, the newest trend. Too bad we just bought a new microwave/range
Simple oak columns. LOVE.
Underside of drawer pulls, perfect finger size. LOVE.
This not so much love. Tery and I could easily see the ferrets playing on this thin beam and dancing sideways to their deaths
All the bathrooms had this iridescent tile scattered throughout. LOVE.
Teh Gays have arrived! (you thought I was going to say "LOVE," didn't you?)
Tery is puzzled why she can't get into the wine cellar
Great pictures like this are easy when your subject is stunningly beautiful
This was positioned outside the guest room. I'd like a bit less buffalo pizzle next time, please.
Seamus Finnegan. Tell me this isn't the same kid from last year's Parade:
Is he making a career out of it?
Preachy beams. HATE.
Tery loved this 5-screen setup. She blew through the house so she could sit and enjoy it while Deb and I caught up
Weight machine cozy
How many choices do you need when you go to bed? Or is this where your spouse sleeps when he's too tired to make the 2-mile trek to the couch?
Vertical chess. Pretty neat -- gives players something to do between pool turns (pool table off-camera)
Bella sink
Deb-sized storage area
That's what I'm talking about. Except mine would be full of DVDs, because Bloom County books don't look nearly so classy
I loved this angel print, until I saw the selling price of $1610 (it's enormous, look at the attendant in the lower left for scale)
The formal dining room had a lot going on. "No thank you, we're really all set on candles!"
Lest we forget the theme this year is Italian
Preachy bedroom. HATE.
We loved this sink. It looks like a new car!
GAH. This rec room wall had a lot going on. Too much, some might say.
We were all tickled by this playroom. It looked like an Italian street market
"Now kids, go play with your groceries and leave mommy and daddy alone"
"Or get a headstart on your wine-tasting career"
This kid's bathroom had a lot going on. I'm sensing a pattern.
I had to take this picture after another visitor asked this attendant if these wine cask bottoms served a functional purpose. Other houses boast a wine cellar. The Bella Vita gives you wine on tap!
Structural damage
Tery's copping a feel. NICE.
Look closely. Beside this gorgeous wall art is a $14 doorbell. It's like the budget ran out and they had to cut corners somewhere
This indoor courtyard was quite spectacular. It was obviously made for entertaining on a grand scale
More Gays!
The Priest and the Prostitute. Guess even house stagers gotta make their jobs fun sometimes
First step's a doozy
This was a quiet, out-of-the-way study-like room with this huge TV...
....an itty bitty DVD library...
...and a $130 pillow. I was lounging on it quite carelessly before noticing the price tag.
I couldn't care less about wine or cellars, but it was kind of neat how this one had holes in the wall for the bottles
View while lying....
....on this. My favorite part of the day, I miss lying on my back staring at the sky (until Tery reminded me we have a park right outside our window. She added that this was where all her drunk friends would pass out. NICE.).
Just as we were ready to leave, we saw this cloud moving in:
Twister! Auntie Em!!
It wasn't a tornado, just a really funky cloud. The rain did start falling as we walked back to the car. Perfect timing!
~*~
Last but not least: Tery told me about a bumper sticker she saw the other day. It read "Barack Hussein Obama...enough said!"
I'm not sure which terrifies me more, a.) the fact that people are this ignorant, b.) the fact that people aren't afraid of advertising how ignorant they are, or c.) the fact that such ignorant people have the right to vote.
He wasn't terrible for me other than having very labored breathing, and I felt confident that he'd be gone Saturday night, as most hospitalized cases usually are. I was mistaken. He was there, but seemed pretty much the same. He reacted more violently when I tried to get him outside, seeming not willing to walk at all, and once outside did nothing (strange for being on IV fluids for hours). I asked Tery about him. Normally dogs this sick are owned by little old ladies who can't walk them regularly. This dog, however, was owned by some rich woman who didn't have time to walk him regularly, whose idea of exercise was to get Oscar a puppy that he couldn't stand. Tery said the head doctor knew she had money and would pay anything without question, which is why he was still there Saturday.
Around 3 a.m. I noticed a strange quiet in Recovery. I realized it was due to Oscar having a seizure and no longer breathing. Oh god.
I tried the holistic approach at first (worked with another seizure dog I had once), talking to him, soothing him, trying to calm him down/snap him out of it. No go. I desperately pawed through the box of controlled substances looking for phenobarbital. All I could find was diazepam (Valium). I gave him a shot, no idea what dosage, and waited. No go. I went back and found the pheno on the second pass, gave him a shot of that. No go. (Later going back and reading up on these drugs, the book said they weren't advisable in cases of extreme respiratory illness. But I figured Oscar probably had nothing to lose at this point.)
By this time his tongue was lolling out and he was turning blue. Oh god. This dog was going to die. This dog was going to die and I had to sit here and watch every agonizing second of it.
(I of course tried to call the head doctor (whose case it was) for some assistance. She didn't answer, deep in her untroubled sleep, dreaming of all the money she was making off this dog that was going to die.)
I couldn't just watch this dog die. I'd have nightmares for months. I knew I had to intubate him. I had intubated a dog exactly once, when I came in during the day for some training and had two techs holding the dog plus another behind my shoulder walking me through every step. This was going to be nothing like that, but I couldn't make it much worse. His twitching had stopped but he still wasn't breathing, and growing weaker by the second.
I grabbed an intubation tube (they're all different sizes depending on the size of the dog's airway (the distance between their nostrils). I didn't have the luxury of precision so grabbed what looked best). I hooked it to an AmbuBag (a bag that pumps air when you squeeze it, a preferable alternative to giving canine mouth-to-mouth) and hooked it to the tube. I shoved it in his mouth haphazardly (his jaw was locked in a half-open position), squeezed the bag and prayed. And to my astonishment he started coughing. I kept it up, and he started breathing -- it wasn't pretty, but he was breathing all the same.
I called Becca, a vet tech who absolutely isn't required to answer her phone at 3 a.m. (unlike the doctor, in my opinion). She said she had a feeling he might go downhill. She said all I could do was put him on oxygen and see how he did. She apologized to me profusely, as if it was her fault the dog had flatlined.
I had never set up the oxygen tank before, but it was really child's play after semi-intubating a dog.
Oscar made it to the end of my shift. I left with a feeling of accomplishment and pride, tempered with the certain knowledge that he would probably be euthanized come Monday anyway. But, as Tery pointed out proudly, he didn't die on my watch (turns out I was half right -- first he was brought to a specialist hospital Sunday, where x-rays revealed his lungs and abdomen full of fluid. Soon after he was euthanized).
Tery was proud of me, but just as angry as I was that the doctor didn't answer her phone. Tery figured she'd have some excuse like how it was her night off and I should've called the other doctor. When I'm trying to save an animal's life, I'd rather not have to scurry around figuring out which doctor to call. I think it should be a team effort in an emergency situation, not a childish game of "whose turn is it?"
Meanwhile, Tabby thinks she deserves a raise because she can stamp invoices better than anyone else.
I'm attending a seminar next week on emergency medicine. It's paid training, and hopefully I'll pick up one or two helpful tips. My bigger hope, however, is that critical cases like poor old Oscar are sent off for the appropriate care before I start my shift.
~*~
Enough of that unpleasantness. Now I give you
Parade of Homes 2008: Solterra
The homes were okay this year, not quite as distinctive and unique as in previous years (look at me, turning up my nose at million-dollar houses); not least of which because their names were so similar it gave me a headache trying to keep them straight for this post. The whole program read like an Italian language lesson. I also didn't include any exterior shots, since they pretty much all looked identical except for slightly different shapes.
La Belle Maison
Tery said if you had this room you'd be all set if pink and black ever made a comeback. Otherwise we don't see this working for, well, anyone.
But it did have a Café Jacques at the base of the stairs
This "wall art" created the illusion of opening onto something more visually interesting
Bookcase with inset: Tery said leather-bound Reader's Digest books (which is what these are) didn't equal a quality library
For that matter, neither do faux cardboard book spines
We were all equally appalled at this desecration of a book for the sake of decoration
I loved the jaded look on her face. She looks like she's already fully prepared for teenager-hood
Unlike her brother, who is totally STOKED about his lederhosen
Deb-sized loveseat (she has a hard time finding furniture that doesn't dangle her feet off the floor)
This is the area just inside the front door. Tery said it was so your guests had someplace to sit while waiting for their pagers to go off for dinner
Unlike this awful garage door from 2 years back, the Belle Maison has an ACTUAL wooden door
Sede Felice
Tery welcomes you to the Sede Felice
Tery and I easily imagined Kitten Mitten creating a throne on these rocks and refusing to ever come down. Thereafter envisioning her in all of the homes became a running theme
Gah! I want to read a book, but how do I know which one?
Cool portal looking down into the wine cellar. I guess it was roped off so only the wealthy homeowner could have the honor of scuffing it up
Bad shot looking down. It was a popular photo op, so had to be taken quickly
This guy cracked me up. He was obviously a contractor of some kind, because in every room he just attacked everything -- wanted to know how it was made, how it worked, and how it could have been improved upon.
Forget the stupid backward-facing library. I'll just read these.
La Maison des Vues
Deb was quite taken with this dining setup. I probably wouldn't have minded it had it been anywhere else except just inside the front door.
The "mom's center." I guess being a mom is all about giving gifts. Or at least it is when you can afford a nanny and a cook.
"Thank you for not touching the walls" I had no urge to do so before reading this
Same sign was in here. I thought the tiny glass jewels was overdoing it just a tad (I think this bathroom was actually in the hall leading to the garage, so used mostly when you've returned from a day trip and absolutely gotta go right NOW)
Chi-chi-frou-frou bed. I hated it.
This kid walked into my shot, and I promised as payback I would put him on the internet. Here you go, jerkface.
What I was trying to shoot. It amuses us to imagine having ferrets in these vast houses. Tery thought that they would spitefully use this inaccessible part of the stairway to poop. I think she's right.
We looked out a window and noticed all these birds gathered ominously on just this one house
Later in the day, these emergency vehicles were seen in the vicinity. We'll have more respect for flocks of birds
A pink mostrosity of a girl's bedroom. Pretty much can't be used for anything else
Yup (the smaller mirrors have the words "BFF" and "Whatev" in tiny plastic diamonds)
There was, in reality, no hot tub to be found. Tery and I just liked saying, "ah-hot-ub."
This is the "des vues" -- Red Rocks Amphitheater. Not too shabby.
Perhaps this is the "hot tub." I took this because of the hideously oversized "spill-over" catch lip.
La Villa di Vita (Loca)
I liked this house very much, mostly due to this gorgeous indoor-outdoor veranda area (2-level, there's a basement level beyond that railing)
Bunny egg holders! I would eat hard-boiled eggs every single night
This wallpaper was a bit of a bold choice. I didn't care for it.
An odd staging prop -- an empty iPhone box. The closest Deb (or I) will ever come to the real thing
Another wallpaper choice I disagreed with.
This room was horrible. Actually more of a hallway with a bed in it, as the only way to the other stairway is through here. But the guy in the white tanktop is our hypercritical contractor friend.
Sink faucet ON THE MIRROR. How is this done? Magic, I say.
Visually interesting sink
Visually interesting art. This was made up entirely of bolts.
Microbrewery in the basement. Tery wanted to make an offer on the spot.
The big screen TV had these flashy (but I suspect ultimately very distracting) gaslight sconces on either side. Also, this lady refused to move according to Tery. Unclear why Tery wanted her to.
Tery and Deb enjoying some plastic beer staging props
This sink was awful. If the water wasn't turned on full force, it dribbled all over the rim of the sink. If you look closely you can see how close your hand needs to get to the rim to have any actual interaction with the water. Shame, Kohler.
A word about the entertainment centers in this year's crop: The trend seems to be moving away from home theaters (or "media rooms," I guess you'd call them) and more to a large TV out in the rec room or basement area. In a lot of these homes these TVs were projection screen and looked terrible. The one home that DID have a proper theater was playing The Incredibles on a 70" screen, but obviously not Blu-Ray because the picture was noticeably blurry. Even our 32" HD makes Pixar movies look like Blu-Ray with standard definition DVD. I expect much more from my million-dollar homes.
This was also the halfway point, where we decided to head to the car to eat our packed lunch (we knew 8 homes was going to be a long day). That morning Tery had spilled her Starbucks on her white shirt -- just a tiny spot, but she freaked out about it. We went about our day and she had just managed to let it go when she asked the ticket taker if she'd be allowed back inside and the girl answered, "No problem. You have a very distinctive shirt." Throughout our entire meal Tery could be heard repeating this phrase in the back seat under her breath.
Casa Vecchio Y Nuovo
This house was Tery and my favorite. The name means something like "The House of Old and New." It took the Best Overall award, so we must have good taste.
Ferret-sized bathtub
Front door. LOVE.
New! Video! Most of the homes had these awesome anti-slam drawers, mysteriously practically everywhere except the kids' rooms
Chandelier. LOVE.
The judges show their appreciation. Oh, get a room.
Microwave drawer, the newest trend. Too bad we just bought a new microwave/range
Simple oak columns. LOVE.
Underside of drawer pulls, perfect finger size. LOVE.
This not so much love. Tery and I could easily see the ferrets playing on this thin beam and dancing sideways to their deaths
All the bathrooms had this iridescent tile scattered throughout. LOVE.
Teh Gays have arrived! (you thought I was going to say "LOVE," didn't you?)
Tery is puzzled why she can't get into the wine cellar
Great pictures like this are easy when your subject is stunningly beautiful
This was positioned outside the guest room. I'd like a bit less buffalo pizzle next time, please.
Bella Vista
Seamus Finnegan. Tell me this isn't the same kid from last year's Parade:
Is he making a career out of it?
Preachy beams. HATE.
Tery loved this 5-screen setup. She blew through the house so she could sit and enjoy it while Deb and I caught up
Weight machine cozy
How many choices do you need when you go to bed? Or is this where your spouse sleeps when he's too tired to make the 2-mile trek to the couch?
Vertical chess. Pretty neat -- gives players something to do between pool turns (pool table off-camera)
Bella sink
Deb-sized storage area
La Bella Vita (Loca)
That's what I'm talking about. Except mine would be full of DVDs, because Bloom County books don't look nearly so classy
I loved this angel print, until I saw the selling price of $1610 (it's enormous, look at the attendant in the lower left for scale)
The formal dining room had a lot going on. "No thank you, we're really all set on candles!"
Lest we forget the theme this year is Italian
Preachy bedroom. HATE.
We loved this sink. It looks like a new car!
GAH. This rec room wall had a lot going on. Too much, some might say.
We were all tickled by this playroom. It looked like an Italian street market
"Now kids, go play with your groceries and leave mommy and daddy alone"
"Or get a headstart on your wine-tasting career"
This kid's bathroom had a lot going on. I'm sensing a pattern.
I had to take this picture after another visitor asked this attendant if these wine cask bottoms served a functional purpose. Other houses boast a wine cellar. The Bella Vita gives you wine on tap!
Structural damage
Il Campanile
Tery's copping a feel. NICE.
Look closely. Beside this gorgeous wall art is a $14 doorbell. It's like the budget ran out and they had to cut corners somewhere
This indoor courtyard was quite spectacular. It was obviously made for entertaining on a grand scale
More Gays!
The Priest and the Prostitute. Guess even house stagers gotta make their jobs fun sometimes
First step's a doozy
This was a quiet, out-of-the-way study-like room with this huge TV...
....an itty bitty DVD library...
...and a $130 pillow. I was lounging on it quite carelessly before noticing the price tag.
I couldn't care less about wine or cellars, but it was kind of neat how this one had holes in the wall for the bottles
View while lying....
....on this. My favorite part of the day, I miss lying on my back staring at the sky (until Tery reminded me we have a park right outside our window. She added that this was where all her drunk friends would pass out. NICE.).
Just as we were ready to leave, we saw this cloud moving in:
Twister! Auntie Em!!
It wasn't a tornado, just a really funky cloud. The rain did start falling as we walked back to the car. Perfect timing!
~*~
Last but not least: Tery told me about a bumper sticker she saw the other day. It read "Barack Hussein Obama...enough said!"
I'm not sure which terrifies me more, a.) the fact that people are this ignorant, b.) the fact that people aren't afraid of advertising how ignorant they are, or c.) the fact that such ignorant people have the right to vote.
