Tuesday was like any normal day…except that I ended up with staples in my head.
At lunch, I went to visit my doggie BFF. Our routine is a quick walk (In spite of being a greyhound, he’d have it no other way.), followed by some couch time, and then back in his crate with an afternoon treat.
At the end of my couch time I got up to get his treat, knelt to give him kisses on his head (which I always do) and was met with barking and two bites to the top of my head.
I cleaned up, tried to stop the bleeding, and called Emil to tell him I was ok. I asked him where the nearest urgent care facility was. He offered to come get me, but I was fine, I was sure. I just wanted a professional opinion of what I couldn’t really see among my hair.
Four staples. Yep. And, having had stitches several times, I’ll take staples any day! I’ll especially take them if I can request the same Novocain-without-epinephrin numbing agent that the kind Dr. Saeed gave me!
Every couple of days, the wound hurts and every other couple of days I have to go in for a checkup. I get the staples out on Tuesday, supposedly.
I nick-named myself The Borg. Emil has been much more creative: Metal Head, Frankenstein, Staple Head, Broken, Iron Head, etc.
squick alert for the picture of the staples
We’re wrapping up a fabulous burger supper and talking about what to do on Friday/Saturday nights of our football-filled weekend.
Lori (after stumbling onto some “today in Austin site”, scoffing at their generic look): “Argh! They use effin’ stock photography.”
Emil: “Livestock? Cows?”
We see a Blue Healer cow dog “walking himself” by carrying his own leash in his mouth. He’s ready to romp and play and is trying very hard to get his owner on board with this idea.
Lori: “That Healer needs some cows….or goats or sheep or something. What other animals get herded?”
Lori: ??? They do not. Whales don’t travel in herds.
Emil: Yes, they do.
Lori: Whales really travel in herds?
[You see, it’s Emil, and he’ll make shit up, so I have to ask again, so I’ll know if he’s really being truthful or just messing with me.]
Emil: Yes. What do you call a baby whale?
Lori: I dunno.
Emil: A calf.
Lori: Ok, I know whales are mammals, but it’s not like little Sea Cowboys are riding Sea Horses and using Sea Cow Dogs to herd whales.
Emil: No, because there are Sea Men riding the Sea Horses.
This weekend was Daddy’s golf tournament.  Emil couldn’t make the trip, so I trekked up to Paris on Friday. I was all the way there before I started to see (mostly on Twitter and some on facebook) all the jokes about the Rapture.
I called Emil to say hello and made some of my own wonderfully witty comments. I apologized for being in Paris for the Rapture, but assured him that I was hell-bound and would be home ASAP to meet him so we could endure the apocalypse together.
me: “I’m sorry I won’t be there for the Rapture, but as soon as the tournament is over, I will find a way to get to you, so we can be together.”
E: “Yeah–I mean, you can’t go anywhere until you come home. Your basket is here.”
me: “What basket?”
E: “Your hand basket. It’s right beside mine. We can’t go to hell without ‘em.”
And this is why we are married and get along so well. We can make jokes and laugh about anything. Emil taught me to laugh hard and deep, the way Daddy did naturally. Everyone should learn how to do this. Life is a lot more fun when you can give it a great big belly laugh…you know, the kind that makes you sore the next day!
 It was a little smaller than usual with a lot less sponsors than in recent years. It’s unfortunate that they can’t get their ducks in a row like a “real” event. It was only a few short weeks ago that they even finalized the date. :/
When we first starting looking at cars to replace BB and Little Blue Car, we went to the same family of dealerships where we bought BB. It’s a Honda/Toyota/Scion/etc. group. We were looking at and drove the Honda Fit. While we had a fabulous experience buying BB, in the wake of the quakes/tsunamis in Japan, and coupled with Honda’s slimy sales tactics, we weren’t happy. But, apparently, they don’t read their Yelp reviews before repeatedly calling formerly-potential customers.
Our sales person from that day had called right when we got back…and with the luxury of Google Voice, I blocked him from calling again. However, as technology would have it, he can call from a number of lines and, today, manged to get through . I was on my way out the door and off my game for just a moment….a moment of weakness. argh!
The convo went something like this:
Hello, Ms. Loosa, this is [Miguel] (not his real name) from Round Rock Honda. How are you today?
Fine. How are you?
Great! Listen, I just wanted to see if you and Aaahmeeel (also not Emil’s real name!) were back in town from your trip and if you were still looking for a Honda or Toyota or a Scion or any other [car we have in stock]”.
(Really…he said something not much different than that!)
[……drum roll, please….. (’cause this next part is that good!)]
“Actually, after we left your dealership, we drove up the road to Mazda. They were willing to work with us on the price,
so we bought TWO cars from them.”
[I couldn’t quite make out the sounds of the crickets chirping in the background…. </smug> <!nah, not me>]
Well, if you ever need anything from our family of dealerships, maybe with your next vehicle purchases, I’d be happy to help.
Thank you. [Thanks, but no. You gave us a hell of a time when you knew we were trying shop quickly and then get out of town for family business. What’s more: you are slimy!]
When I told Emil the story at dinner (’cause it’s just too juicy to tell in a 140-character Tweet!), he was all giggles!
#Booyah, Honda. Don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out!
zoom-zoom  
I will repeat this because I know they care: Round Rock (city of), you lost the tax revenue on not-one-but-two vehicles because of one slimy salesperson. We quite likely would have purchased two cars from that RR dealership. But, by driving just a little further north, we found some down-to-Earth and real people. And, we contributed to all that lovely tax revenue in Georgetown, instead. (You’re welcome Ali & Andy, and the Winklers, too!)
 Google Voice gives me an extra layer of call screening. He got through because he called from a different number. He still had to state his name to connect the call.
 Our experience with Roger Beasley Mazda was so good that Emil (yes, Emil!) wrote a letter to Mr. Beasley to thank and recognize our sales person and the rest of the staff at the dealership. You should have seen the faces of our salesperson (Mark, who was at the top of the board for the month with-or-without our purchases) and the other staff members when we gave them a printed letter. I guess no one does that anymore! Our full review on Yelp will come when we get our real license plates and my cargo net.
 Emil even signed our letter “Zoom-zoom, Emil & Lori Luza” Nice.
We’ve been too busy to keep up with blogging. I’m still only half way through my post-SXSW post, which was going to be quite funny…but it’s not so much, now.
However, I can’t pass up the chance to blog these images from Emil’s going away lunch from his now-former job. As a staff, they didn’t know anything he really liked other than boobies. So, this women-dominated group set out on a task to give him as many boobs as they could fit into one lunch. They excelled in every way possible that didn’t involve putting my own boobs on public display! The entire lunch was full of laughter and adoration for Emil. As it should be!
The gift bag wishing him Beast Wishes!
His decree of Divorcement from his work-wife, Terri. He has to pay her child support for leaving her while still acting like a child.
A boob/nipple made to fit a Dr. Pepper.
A boobies pop.
A “you can’t leave” card complete with the sounds of Hoops and Yo-yo’s voices.
Denise putting final touches on Emil’s dessert.
Another boob. This time just one. All chocolate.
*squee* at all the boobies!
Emil and the cats found a new game today. They named it Kitty Pong.
They were animated and vocal about something (probably all the chaos in the house, today).
Emil decided that after one meowed, he’d walk to the other one until she meowed. He did this back and forth with them a few times until Purrrrrl won the first round—because Emil made it back to Sosta before she meowed again.
He even held round two, which Purrrrrl won again.
Too bad for the chance at a two out of three, Sosta!
SCENE: meowing cats while we are cooking dinner
EMIL: What is it?
EMIL: Are you hungry?
EMIL: Do you smell chicken?
EMIL: Do you want chicken?
EMIL: Do you want to share chicken with Sosta?
(crickets chirping through the silence)
LORI: laughing vigorously because animals understand much more than we humans ever give them credit for
We use this personal blog to keep family/friends updated to our life and share stuff we find entertaining. We're living (and loving) life from one weekend to the next.