Virgil, Gertie and Wyatt

Originally uploaded by GoodSheila

I haven’t had a trick or treater in years. Seriously. Before we moved here, three years ago, we lived down a long long driveway that no one bothered to travel down. Before that, I lived in a studio apartment on my hometown’s main street. No one even knew there were studios there to live in – hence no trick or treaters. And, before that, I lived in an apartment complex where my roommates handed out the candy… So, I’d be willing to say I’ve not had any trick or treaters since I lived in my parents house, which was… 1997? I think?

Anyhow, imagine how I felt when someone knocked on my door tonight. I was a little excited, but mostly shocked.

And, of course I had to take pictures of my first trick or treaters! Policeman Virgil, Batman Wyatt and Yoda Gertie!!

Those two great danes are huge wimpy puppies!

But, Gertie, she’s the boss, by golly.

I’m increasing my anxiety medication again.  I wonder where the top level of this medication is… and what I would have to do if I made it to the ‘top’ and it still wasn’t enough.

Whenever I increase my meds, the first couple of days wipe me out with minor side effects, then the next couple days are great.  Then, by the end of the month, I start to think I may need to increase again.  Normally I wait another month, to make sure that everything has had a chance to even out.  Then I call the doctor and ask for the increase.

Its definitely getting better, though.  I don’t feel like I’m having a heart attack.  My muscles are not so tense that I feel like I may pass out.  But, I’m not anxiety free yet.  At first, I thought that maybe I should stop messing with my medication level.  You know, like this is the best that it’ll get, and I should be thankful.

Then, I started noticing that I’m wanting to sleep much more often than before.  And, that I’m sending the roommate out to the store to get the necessities, instead of going myself.  The final kicker this time is that I chose to stay home from work this past week instead of working my already limited hours due to dropped sales.  I just couldn’t motivate myself at all to get out of my house…

I called the doctor today.

I’ll start the new dosage after this month’s script runs out, which is in less than a week.

Let’s hope this is the magic dosage for me.  I’m ready to have complete control over this.

I suppose my only complaint about Fowler Fest 08 would be that our comcast remote control for the bedroom television has walked away.  I mean, really though, who steals a remote control?  So, I can’t quite figure out what has happened there.  We’re still looking around the house.  Maybe its in the freezer, or something.

I would go so far as to say that Fowler Fest 08 was a sucess.  Our intention this year was to throw a good ol’ fashion party with loud music and keg beer, and to recoup our cost of the whole shindig.  Which is exactly what happened.

The sheriff was promptly called at 11 PM with a noise complaint, but shook his head in disbelief when he got here.  He had said he rolled his windows down, and strained his ears to hear anything.  I told him that we had milked the time for every last second, but promptly unplugged at 11 PM.  He was appreciative, and left pretty quickly.

Both kegs were drained completely, I was told.  Interestingly enough, I didn’t have a drop of alcohol this year.  I was throwing back the Diet Cokes like no ones business, though!  And, honestly, I didn’t mind not drinking.  I think I’m on to something here with this paxil I’m taking for anxiety.

There were a couple near-altercations that were quickly resolved with a little help from a sober homeowner (that would be me, by the way).  Not between any of our friends, mind you.  It was between drunken neighbors.

And, one kid (I say ‘kid’, I sure hope he was 21) tried doing a keg stand on my keg, which I abruptly stopped also.  I strongly let him know that he was not at some college frat party and standing off of my keg was not okay, and to drink out of a glass like a human being.   He quickly apologized and stepped away.

Past that, there are some pictures on myspace and facebook.  If you have any pictures of Fowler Fest, please let me know.  I’d love to get copies!

We’ll be having Fowler Fest 09 next fall.  Start saving funds so you can come too!

I don’t even know if most of you know what I do for a living.

(Well, besides entertain y’all, that is.  But, I do that out of the kindness of my heart… not for the non-existent paycheck.)

I decorate cakes.

Not like these cakes, I hope.  And, not as fancy as these cakes.

Nope.  I’m some where in between the two.

Anyhow – at my job, we have several cakes for sale out front.  A customer can come in, pick one out, and have a message written on it in just a couple minutes while they wait.  I don’t know if this is common practice at other places, but its very standard for us.

So, today while I’m at work, this guy comes in with his two kids and spend several moments looking over each cake and discussing the pros and cons of them all.  Finally, a consensus was met, and they chose a fairly nondescript cake.

When they arrived at the register, the cashier politely asked the father if he’d like something written on the cake while they waited.  The father peered at the children and suggested, “You both decide what it should say, since its for my birthday.”

As I overheard this, I looked at the two children.  The older brother, about 10, and the little sister, about 7, looked a little nervous about being given such a responsibility.

This is where I stepped in.  I leaned down to the kids and started whispering to them, “What should we make it say?  What’s your dad’s favorite color?  What does he like?”

I could see their eyes light up.  They each had their own ideas.  The boy wanted blue writing and his dad’s favorite college team on the cake.  The girl wished for green writing, but definitely wanted some hearts around the cake also.

I nodded happily.  “I think I can manage that!  Hold on, okay?”

The kids smiled as I walked away.

The cake they had chosen wouldn’t allow me to add the college team design to it, so I rummaged through my supplies and grabbed up an identical yet undecorated cake.

Quickly I put the college team logo on it, wrote Happy Birthday Daddy, We Love You (in both blue and green, mind you), and of course put some red hearts intermingled with the words.

It was… uhm… a little ‘busy’ looking.  But, it was exactly what they wanted.

And, when I took the cake back up front, the kids ran to the counter to inspect my work.  Smiles grew from ear to ear on both kids.  As dad walked over to check it out, he smiled at the overdecorated cake.  Then, as the kids started gushing over what details they had recommended, he smiled larger than his kids.

The dad thanked me a good heartfelt ‘thank you’ that is rarely heard anymore, and left the store with his over estatic kids.

I had made their quick trip to the store to get a simple birthday cake one that made all of their days, and made the dad’s birthday hopefully a little more special than it started out being.

I have upset the propane gods…

They have decided to come and remove the gift from the heavens.

It has become a huge headache that I did not cause, but must somehow be accomidating to help solve.

They’re only solution, besides pumping the propane out again, is for me to pay now for the delivery.  Which, if I had the money, would be something to consider.

Instead, now we’re in a holding pattern until the ground dries so they can drive onto my land to pump the propane out.  (Get this, although they use a 120 foot hose to deliver propane, they only have a 20 foot hose to remove propane…)  I’m not letting them put huge ruts in my yard to fix their mistake!

And, to top it all off, I’ve pulled a muscle or something crazy in my calf.  It hurts to put weight on my flipping leg.

Really?

I mean, I thought I was being good.

Yet I get bit in the butt again.

I musta been a bad bad girl in a past life.

Ooooor, in my next life, I’m gunna not have a care in the world!

I mean, if that whole reincarnation thing is anything worth really considering…

We live off propane here in the sticks, the boonies, whatever.

We don’t have to fill it through the spring or summer… and depending on the temperature, we usually don’t have to fill it in the fall either.  But, come winter time, we may have to fill our propane tank 3 times or so.  At a hefty chunk of change at each filling, and with my lack of discipline for saving these hefty chunks of change, I always freak out a little bit come winter on how to fill’er’up.

Interestingly enough, today a propane truck showed up at my house and filled up my tank.

What makes this so interesting is the fact that I had not ordered propane yet, because I don’t have any money.

I thought the magic propane goddess had smiled upon us with her warmy-gassy-goodness and rewarded us with heat for the winter.

Which, in  my opinion, was a great story that I was more than happy to believe until I looked the receipt tucked into my door…

The name on the receipt?  Not mine.

The address on the receipt?  Not mine.

Ooooh, boy, someone is in some troooooooouble!  And it ain’t me!

Of course, being the good girl I am, I immediately pick up the phone and call the business.  So, now they’re going to figure out some payment program for me to pay off the propane that was mistakenly put into my tank.

The company kept thanking me and thanking me for telling them about their mistake.  I hadn’t even thought about not telling them.  But, I suppose I could of gotten away with free propane for a couple months…

Oh well, I’ll be the good Samaritan.

I’m a believer in Karma.

Hopefully someone up there is taking notes and I got a gold star today next to my name.