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Welcome to the BOMB.

The Blog Of the "Mother" of Bandit.
Bandit is my Hairless Chinese Crested--he's the "normal" one. I, on the other hand, am unrepentantly "pet-crazy." You know the type--the spinster who lives in the haunted house three blocks over with 72 cats...okay, so I don't have 72 cats, and my house isn't haunted--but my dogs wardrobe is better than mine! Need I say more? :~)
I've never been consistant at journaling, so the timing of my blogs will be sporadic at best. I just hope they are as entertaining to you as they are to me; however, be forewarned: Most of my blogs will be about The BaldOne. In spite of his Don King "do," I think he's just as cute as any of the Brothers B!
Now, if I can just remember not to get him wet--or feed him after midnight...

About Me

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My bags are packed and I'm always ready to seek out an adventure with Bandit and Moggy in tow. Bandit is my thirteen year old Chinese Crested, who I frequently call The Bald One or The BaldOne Boy (like he was one of the Baldwin Brothers). Moggy’s full name is Pip-Moggy. He’s my two year old gansta-resuce kitty. I couldn’t decide between Pip (which are the spots on die and domino tiles) and Moggy (or Moggie when I mistakenly thought he was a she), so I combined the two. Moggy refers to the British term for "cat of unknown parentage .” So in essence, I have an almost bald dog, and I’ve named my cat “Spot.”

Fun Stuff (I'm doing now or have done)

  • Artistic Attempts weekly (alternating between Painting With A Twist, That Art Place, and Peniot's Palette).
  • Bunko with the Belton Bunko Babes monthly.
  • Participating in the A to Z Blogging Challenge.
  • Spades and Liverpool Rummy with the Spadetts weekly.
  • The Mighty Texas Dog Walk, Austin (fund raiser for Service Dogs, Inc--they train shelter dogs to be Service Dogs, then give them free of charge to people with disabilities.)

Tuesday, August 24, 2010

Convoluted Stinkin' Thinkin'

Eddie turned 48 today.  Last night, while he was still 47, he told me I "don't act my age." Fifty year olds are often seen as stuffy and dowdy, so I understood this to be a compliment.  He fell even deeper into my good graces when he told me I "don't look my age" either--bless him. His declaration was music to my ears. He totally won me over when he said I look "significantly younger." 

I liked the ring of "significantly younger."  I thought he might be "the one." Floating on the clouds, I dared to hope he thinks I look like I'm  40--or if I'm honest, and really daring--35!  His next sentence burst my bubble, and brought me back to reality with a harsh crash. "You only look like you're 46." Forty-six!!! That's much closer to fifty than I care to admit. And it's an eternity from thirty-five. Guess he's not "The One" after all. (Breathe Eddie, you're off the hook!)

Sputtering "thank you" and "oh, how sweet," in a valiant effort to hide my disappointment, I compiled a  mental list of every thick, heavy duty wrinkle cream on the market.  Sadly, I realize I must be getting old--and mentally slow--because the real meaning of this conversation did not reveal itself to me until today.

Let's revisit High School Geometry, shall we? Where, once upon a time, we learned to prove complex theorems and mathematical equations. 

I'm fifty. I look "significantly younger" to my 47 year old friend--to him, I look like I'm  a mere 46 years old. We can therefore assume "significantly younger" than fifty is 46.  If forty-six is  "significantly younger" than fifty; it stands to reason the reverse side of that statement is also true--fifty is significantly older than 46. Are ya still with me? Forty-six is one less than 47, and as you will recall, Eddie is 47.  Therefore, using my astute critical thinking skills, I have deduced that while Eddie says I look significantly younger, he  actually  thinks of me as being "significantly older!"

Slathering on the thickest, heaviest-duty, wrinkle-reducing night cream in my medicine cabinet, I'm  wondering if "not acting my age" is a compliment after all... 

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