Random catch ups.

Remember my last post about having to rescue that damn baby Italian Jerseylicious lizard from my bathtub at two in the morning?



The next night it happened again. Three times. Not from the shower (thank Jeebus), but from different parts throughout the condo. Bela would stalk them and pin them down in one spot and then I would swoop in and - in a totally controlled and calm and not at all irrationally berserk manner - catch them in a tupperware (now completely designated for baby gecko-catch purposes) and release them back out into the wild (our front door). I hope no neighbors were watching our front entrance at this time because it was, again, about two in the morning and I could not be bothered to put pants on when releasing them outside.

Vito #2

Vito #3

Bela keeping careful watch on Vito #4 in the middle of our living room.

Vito #4 moments before being given his stay of execution. When I took a close look at him in the tupperware I noticed that Bela must have been a little aggressive with this one because he was missing his tail! Ha! Just be lucky he spared you your life, mister.

Anyway, I've only had one more baby lizard sighting in here since that two-night baby lizard frenzy. I'm just glad I have not had to deal with an adult gecko inside. I know they're harmless, but if I had to deal with catching one inside our condo, I might jump out of my skin altogether.

***

The other night I dreamt that this little black spider was racing around and I was terrified of it. It wasn't even like a black widow or anything, just a common little tiny house spider. But throughout the course of my dream, it kept getting bigger and bigger. But the bigger it got, the more cartoony it became until eventually it became one of those fuzzy kindergarten arts and crafts spiders that you make with puffy balls and pipe cleaners. You know what I'm talking about? It even had one of those googly eye smiley faces. But I was still scared poop-less in my dream. Also, I remember that I could not squish it because its true identity was some famous young college quarterback (???) that only exists in my unconscious and if I were to kill him, I would get in big trouble. And then in the end, my sister came in with a little tie-up baggie and caught him with no problem.



WTF.



***

Hey look, I made this! It was delicious. I plan on making it many more times. 

From top to bottom: lightly toasted (optional) corn tortillas, sauteed onions and spinach, refried beans, Monterey Jack poison, pretend beef, fried egg and scallions. Salsa on the side.

***

Do you know what happens when you are on the tail end of a three-week long Schmoobles-less sequester from nearly all other human contact? You devise a way to play "soccer" with your puppy:

And this was me yesterday morning being an idiot with my morning coffee.

 

Oooh!

 

GIMMEEEEE.

 

I can't get in from the sides! NYAM NYAM NYAM.

 

Attack from the top.

 

Glug glug glug. Success.

 

The
Eyebrow of Judgment makes an appearance. I think this was about the
time I was scrolling through my Facebook news feed and hating on an
assortment of stupid status updates. Also, note the Beethoven bobblehead on the countertop over my left shoulder as well as the portal to the surface of the sun over my right shoulder.

Schmoobs comes home tonight! I think we can all fairly say that it's not a moment too soon.