It should come as no surprise to you that I woke up iller than a hornets' nest this morning when you hear read this story gripe.
The people that live in the apartment above mine have dogs.
8 dogs.
Chihuahua dogs, which I'm not sure if you know this or not but it's been scientifically proven that the weight of a single Chihuahua increases threefold when said Chihuahua lives in an apartment above a girl who is trying to study for freakin' BOARDS!
ARGHHH!
I am not happy.
Those stupid dogs woke me up BEFORE FIVE O'CLOCK! this morning!
Howling, howling, howling.
I don't know about what because its not like they were wanting to be taken outside.
Those people don't walk their dogs outside.
I've never seen them take the dogs outside.
They let them poop and pee on their balcony and then they sweep it off onto MY porch!
Know what else they sweep off the porch?
Fluff.
Fluff that the dogs have torn out of the futon that's up there on the balcony because the mom and dad dog have to stay on the porch most of the day.
I don't know why but if you look, it's true.
I can't study at night when it sounds like there's a dog track going on over my head.
When the man comes home from work, the dogs get all excited and yip and yap and run laps all over the whole apartment.
Then the man gets tired of playing and shuts them in their room which, heh, just so happens to be the room directly above mine.
And I'm trying to study and they're begging for attention and I'm getting madder and madder by the day.
So I decided that I'd had enough of this nonsense and made plans to call up the landlady/property manager this morning.
Only I forgot my phone at the house this morning and now I'm eighty miles away at school.
I guess I'll call her tomorrow and unleash the beast on her.

Contest! But No Prize!

Its time to update the good ol' profile picture!
This new fabulous improved picture will be featured on my Twitter page (tragedyarrives) and here on my blog profile.
Its up to you guys to decide!
(I'm having a terribly hard time deciding between Bad, Worse, and Worst.
Ya'll pick!

Number 1!
(I really am fourteen years old, I think!)

Number 2!

Ack!

Number 3!

Terrible!

And just for kicks,

Number 4!

Pick whichever one you like the best, but I'm still going to pick the winner!

Check This Out!

So everyone knows I'm a recycling nut.
This nuttiness has been recently fueled by my blogfriend Zakary at http://www.raisingcolorado.com/, who posted a link to a website where you can......
Here, you look at it.
http://www.stjudesranch.org/help_card.php
And do it!
This is pretty cool, and it helps out cancer kids.
******
On another note, I'm about to kill the dog.
She won't quit jumping at me with her stupid tennis ball while I'm trying to type!
And James Earl Jones is scary no matter what role he plays!

Dognails

Nikki needs her toenails cut really bad.
They are getting disgustingly long.
And I gotta do it.
I do not have a case of the exciteds.

I Stand On My Head When I Poop!

I've been spending a lot of time with my dog here lately.
A lot of time.
So much time that I've started to notice funny little things about her.
Like how after a bath, after she's had her hair dried and brushed, and she knows its time to be freed from the bathroom, when I pick up her collar to put it back on her, she walks to me and sticks her neck out sorta like, "Hey!  Put my bling back where it belongs!" even though its just a rinky-dink pink reflective collar.
Boots brought this one to my attention: When she's outside using the potty, ahem! going #2, she picks her back legs up off the ground.
Off the ground!
How?
Why?
Is she afraid that she's going to step in it?
Hahahaha!
She's kinda OCD too.
She hates to get tangled up in her leash.
If for some reason the leash gets between her legs she'll stop walking and hold her leg up so the leash will fall out of the way.
Crazy I'm telling you.
She's a lot of fun though and I love her.
Boots is pretty attached to her too.
I just wished she got along with his baby, Cloe.

Hair Cut!

Boots and I cut her hair.
Doesn't she look nice?

Finale!

I have finished cutting the dog's hair!

She is a true work of art.

You definitely need an abstract view on things in order to appreciate her new hairdo.

Do you know how hard it is to take a picture of a moving dog that hates having her picture made?

Big, poofy head.

Little skinny body.

But, seriously, its not that bad.

She doesn't look that bad, does she?

Someone's been shearin' sheep.

Lots of sheep shearin'.

Lots of, lots of sheep hair.

Er......wool.

Or not.

Before.

After.

First time I've ever cut her hair myself.

I'm not finished though.

Her legs and face are still fuzzy but her back and neck is pretty much the same length.

She acted really good throughout the whole process.

I was surprised.

"Its Very Hard to Surprise Me"

Those will be my famous last words.
Don't ever tell a man that has "Determined" as his middle name that you can't be surprised.
Because you will get sent home early from work.
And you're not very observant.
And when you take your dog out to pee, he will stick his tongue out at you.
You will do a double take.
Then your face will erupt in a big smile because you haven't seen him in over a week.
That is exactly what happened.
I was surprised.

My Dog

1. Loves her SpongeBob golf ball.
2. Scratches her face all the time because she has heat rash.
3. Is currently without fleas.
4. Growls at you when she wants you to throw her ball.
5. Barks at every little cricket fart she hears.
6. Hates people she doesn't already know.
7. Doesn't like to be outside, she gets too hot.
8. Doesn't know it, but she's getting her haircut at home next time.

Thriller!

Doesn't she look like Michael Jackson when her hair is wet? lol

Nikki likes to blog too!

Now it's just Me

Elvis has passed.

I'm kind of upset but then again not.

I knew this day would come.
I'm burying him tonight in Taylor's backyard.

Right now he's in my freezer in a shoe box.
I don't think I'll get anymore pets for a while.

They all die.

I've still got Luna though.