Year Twenty Nine

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Long weekends,shopping, and acting a fool

The long weekend, despite being on call (it was blissfully quiet - Praise Jesus), was just what I needed. Time to sleep in, shop, and lay on the couch with reckless abandon renting movies, watching the Vanderpump Rules reunion, and running. Last Vegas was cute, while I made it about 10 minutes into Blue Jasmine and it was either me or the tv. I chose me and promptly returned to Redbox. Every movie can't be my favorite, right?


Shopping for our trip to the South of France/necessities is in official swing. Snatched up an incredibly adorable pair of two tone leopard/black heels. I die. Grabbed my very first pair of Sperry's (hello traversing the French Riveria by foot), much to someone's (here's looking at you, J) dismay. 

Like an amateur I failed to operate under common sense and opted out of utilizing the fitting room - and now I have two bags of things that need to be exchanged/returned #shopperfail

Thankfully, Mother Nature has mercy on our poor souls (for the time being), and the snowpacalypse has melted. Can the church say - Amen?


Just finished this book (thanks again Gina!), and that, massive slice of cake. Both were fantastic. 

(via Instagram)


The hounds from hell had a vet appointment, which is pretty much super relaxing and extra enjoyable. Said no one, ever. We begin by giving them two Benadryl (consult your vet, we did) and Rescue Remedy to ease the anxiety. Then, M decided he'd walk them halfway so they'd be "tired" - hence not pulling an exorcist all over the Escape. WRONG. Pad my backseat down with a new seat cover and enough towels to deliver a baby, pick them up, and start the maybe 15 minute drive to the vet. It should be noted that I, in addition to the HFH, need anxiety meds for the ride - I really need to look into that...


Five moments in, Miles vomits, calmly. 

Six minutes in, Rubin unleashes the contents of her stomach, not to be outdone by Miles, down the side of my door. Naturally I lose my shit and spend the remainder of the drive dry heaving, wanting to push M out of the car while moving, and locating the nearest liquor store.


Arrive, they head in and I get the distinct pleasure of shoveling massive piles of vomit from my car, whilst dry heaving and swearing. In dress clothes. 


Upon entering the store I dump my purse and the obligatory bring-your-own-dog-poo-cuz-the-wand-in-the-pooper is just, disturbing, (and cost extra), and beeline straight to the ladies without passing go or collecting $200. 


Miles

 60.8 lbs 
the towels are for his "nervous piddle". Nothing but class over here.


Rubin

49.8 lbs


Make it through the exam with neither resembling the true demons they are can be, and headed to check out before either of them could show PetSmart how they behave at home (hint: like dang fools).

But not before the most embarrassing (to date) moment. I move aside with the dogs cuz the waiting room has a few other dogs and after the obligatory sniff, we give everyone their space. Or so I thought. Hear a noise behind me - turning to find Miles, drinking from the water cooler.

--gag--

Can't take us anywhere.

(via Instagram)

Leave PetSmart before we get escorted out by the cops, and I hit Trader Joe's for reinforcements (wine) and Glucosamine for the HFH  which is suppose to be great for their joints. Plus I take it, so we can all pop pills together. 

Tip: Trader Joes is $9.99 for 100, PetSmart is $30-$50 for 60. You do the math.

Now - Who wants a ride in my vomit-mobile?

Know of any other pet stores? I'm fairly certain they have a restraining order against us all. 


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