It was miserable out today, and I was unbelievably bored. I couldn’t seem to get anything I needed done, and I was severely lacking in motivation. I was also a bit crampy so that probably had something to do with it. I spent half the day on MSN with Sandra trying to think of something fun to do. Options discussed were:

Roller skate on the wooden rink in Cambridge nixed because they were closed
Roller skate at Coachlite in Oshawa nixed because they were also closed
Go to a casino nixed because we have no money and can’t afford to lose what we do have
Go eat Mongolian BBQ nixed because I wasn’t hungry and it freaks me out
Drive to Cleveland to eat White Castle nixed because although I would have been hungry by the time we got there, spending $50 in gas to give ourselves gas was a bad idea (although I have done it before)
Go to the African Lion Safari nixed because it was too late in the day and they were closing soon

So…I watched the Anchorman DVD, which kept me amused for a short while. Then my roommate Jim and I took my dog Kagin for a walk, which passed some time and was lovely. She was well behaved and it was nice. UNTIL… when we got home we were standing in the front talking and didn’t notice that she had that ecstatic look on her face. You know that look, the one that only dogs reveling in the fact that they’re rolling in something else’s feces get. Yes, folks, it’s true. Someone (and when I find out who I’m going to place a flaming bag of poopie on their doorstep) had let their dog shit on my front lawn and Kagin, being the picture of femininity, rolled in it. By this time it was dark out, and kind of cold, and I had to bathe Kagin with the freezing cold water from the hose in the back yard. She was not happy, but I will guarantee she was happier than I was. Poor thing though, by the time I was done with her, she was one sorry looking dog. I let her suffer for a little bit, and then let her come get pets, cuddles and cookies. I just don’t understand people who let their dogs poop everywhere and don’t pick it up. I also don’t understand why dogs like to roll in each others feces, but that’s nature, I suppose.

I got crampy again and consoled myself by getting ripped on codeine and watching TV. Then I went on the internet and just to see if there was anything I wanted to check out in Ireland, I typed the name of the town my aunt lives in into Google. Now, it’s no secret that I want to retire on the west coast of Ireland. It’s also no secret that I have absolutely no money and am in no position to buy property, although I desperately want to. Well, what’s the first thing that pops up in the search engine? A beautiful, slightly dilapidated house right near my aunt’s place is for sale. Now when I dream about my ideal house, it’s a place where I can grow to be a crazy old lady puttering about on her land, maybe with a dog and some horses. It’s a white house, and it’s old. It’s a place that needs help, a place that I become attached to and want to rescue and restore. It’s big and lonely looking. OK, people, check this out…………………my dream home is for sale in my dream location.

If it hasn’t sold by the time I go over there (16 days and counting) I think I’ll go look at it just to torture myself. It’s true that I’m not ready to settle down in the country yet, not by a long shot, but if I had the money I would buy this place and vacation there and hold on to it until I was ready. Hey, maybe I’ll win the lottery in the next two weeks!