This austerity program is killing me! Piece by little piece I don't fill up my life with pieces of crap, or items that will make me happy for a moment, but ultimately clutter up my life and weigh me down emotionally at all the stuff I have.

I know the eventual outcome. Doesn't change the face that I want it (where "it" is the object du moment). I want it now.

Each time I think, oooooooo, I want, I want, I stop and think for a moment. Do I really want it? Can I live without it?

Pretty much the only thing I'm spending money on now is food.

I'm still receiving little surprises every now and then, as an order I placed months ago is sent to me (hello, Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows). For the most part, however, my credit card bills are smaller (and you say, "zero balance?"), my bank account is staying the same, and I'm slowly weaning myself from the obssesive consumerism that has been a constant in my life for the last decade.

If only I had bought an iPhone before I started this program.

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Yeah, so, writing and posting, two actions, not one. If you are one of the small number of people who come here on a regular basis, you'll probably want to skip to the end (or, the other end) to catch up. I'm posting in reverse cronological order, so yesterday's post comes first.

Nothing like playing blog catch up to figure out what's been goin' on.

Yay!

Heather is staying with us this weekend. Heather of the now short(ish) hair!

Unfortunately, I can't actually prove with pictures she's here. All I managed today was pictures of her backside.

Boo, my photo taking skills. Though, it's not like I'm not nearly famous for my backside pictures.

Danger, through his mom, had given Kris two VIP tickets to today's A's game against the Mariners. The Mariners who, by the way, have Ichiro playing (Ichiro being the only consistent hitter I have in the Beat the Streak contest. At Doyle's suggestion, I prefilled Ichiro as my hitter for the next two weeks, in case I forget to pick a player. What do you know? My best streak is at 13 now. Kris' is at only 9.).

Not being exactly the biggest baseball fan ever, I suggested Kris ask someone else to go with him. Yes, I'd go, but wouldn't he rather go with someone who will also enjoy the game with him, and not go and wonder why she was there, thinking of all the other tasks she'd rather be doing? I mean, come on, think of the babies!

So, he called up his new best friend yesterday, and made plans. I offered to watchin' the doggen, so plans were made to leave from here, with two dogs having a doggie fun day at Krikitt Downs.

I'm still not sure what drugs I took to make such an offer escape my lips.

So, this morning, Andy came over with Blue and Shadow. Thankfully, he didn't knock when he arrived. Instead, he followed standard Krikitt Downs' friends protocol and walked right in. I love when my friends know they can do that, and do.

A short while later, Kris and Andy were off, and I was in the house with four dogs. Four dogs that, combined, were double my weight. More doggen that I'm used to having.

Blue spent the first half hour of his visit with me staring at the front door where Andy had gone through. He stared almost as if, by sheer force of will, he could bring Andy back through the door.

When that failed, he sat down next to me and stared up at me.

Panting.

For two hours.

Might have been longer, I'm not sure. I tried to pet him, get him up on the couch next to me to snuggle me as Bella does. He wasn't having any of it, and sat there, staring and panting, panting and staring. At one point, he went back to the front door to stare at it, no panting. He returned a few moments later to stare at me.

And pant.

A strange way to spend the day, to be sure.

Eventually, the game ended, and the boys came back from the game. Blue heard the car door shut and either Andy's or Kris' voice first, and bum rushed the door. He was shortly followed by a Shadow, the Cone-head and the Howler.

That either Andy or Kris made it through the front door with the mounds of doggie flesh piled up behind it, amazes me still.

Today's meals were quite questionable. Entertainably so, actually.

Rather than going out to the store, I was determined to find something in the house I could eat for lunch. Preferably something with decent nutritional value. That requirement's the kicker.

Having cleaned out the refridgerator a few days ago of all the expired or spoiled foods, I knew this task wasn't going to be easy. In the scouring, however, I found a box of rice milk on the bottom shelf of the fridge. Okay, milk-ish drink, check.

After searching the cabinets for a bit, I realized I had just barely enough pasta for one serving, so made pasta, with sauce from the open jar in the fridge (handily boiled in case it had started to spoil).

I also found some unopened shaved parmesan cheese. Hot damn, I thought, this was going to be a good meal: spaghetti and sauce with cheese, lemon and herb tuna fish from a can in the cupboard and a big glass of (rice) milk. Not bad, not bad at all.

I sat down with my meal, Blue staring at me on one side, Bella staring at me from the other, and started to eat.

After a bite, I had to wonder if I had accidently put bluecheese into my bowl, instead of the shaved parmesan... Oh, wait, no, I had actually put parmesan into my bowl.

Oh, ick.

I managed to eat only half of my intended meal.