We had a teachable moment this morning.

I did not get Finnegan a crate because he was supposed to be potty trained. Why spend the money? But, as we now know, he is not potty trained. Other things the shelter missed — that he has all of his baby teeth and thus can not possibly be six months old, and that they really ought to move in to the 21st century and start micro-chipping animals instead of giving them ghetto ear tattoos.

Anyway, he’s not potty trained. I decided to put in the bathroom at night. I took out the rug, I laid down newspaper, I made it cozy, and I tucked him in.

You may not be aware, but my sister Megan has been crashing on my couch for the last two months, since she lost her job. Thanks, George Bush. I blame you for this. So, Megan decides she can’t sleep with Finnegan scratching at the bathroom door. She lets him out to sleep on the couch with her.

I wake up around 6AM to take Finn potty, to find he has escaped from his den. Megan explains why, through her sleepy mush-mouth. I take Finn out, I bring him back, and give him back to Megan, saying “This better not backfire.”

Cut to this morning, around 10:45. I have a lovely plan to shower and make myself a nice lunch before heading in to the office. I open my bedroom door, walk in to the hallway, and survey what can only be described as “damage.”

Megan is not a morning person. She needs at least two cups of coffee and a shower before she really wakes up and starts to grasp things going on around her. So I suspect she was quite startled when I very loudly woke her up this morning: “Megan!”

“Whatwhat!”

“It’s time to get up!”

“Why?”

“So that you can see why we don’t let puppies run around at night.”

He’d pooped; that was to be expected. He also had ransacked the bathroom trashcan and strewn its contents around the living room. He’d unfurled an entire roll of toilet paper. He chewed on the antenna of Megan’s cell phone. He’s gathered up all the cat toys he could find and used them to build a fort. Or something.

We cleaned up the mess, and I opted to shower instead of making lunch. My friend Erik has graciously offered me his puppy crate, but I can’t pick it up until Sunday or Monday. I’m pretty sure Finnegan will stay in the bathroom at night, though, without a possible jail-breaker.

And thank the baby Jesus for those Godless Chinese, or else I would starve to death on Christmas Day.

Look at that.

That is one ugly looking foot. Thankfully, my very fetching walking cast covers the purple. Walking casts: They’re what’s in for summer 2008! Just like my totally kickin’ socks sleeves were last year!

2008 has not been a good year for me, medically.

Ever caught your pinky toe on the corner of a wall? Yeah, I caught the three smallest toes on my left foot on the wall, trying to side-step the cat with an armload of laundry. I screamed a series of unintelligible guttural sounds, and spent the night with ice on my foot. But what are you gonna do? They can’t do anything for a broken toe…

Turns out they can do something when you sprain your foot and damage your ligaments, though! Which I found out when I couldn’t walk on it this morning and gimply limped to an ER. I got a really sexy walking cast boot out of it.

I am so ready for 2009.

So here is something you will rarely ever witness from me.

I….

I lack the words….

I lack the vocabulary to tell you how UTTERLY AMAZING The Dark Knight is.

It is not a perfect film. I have issues with the quick editing, for example. And we were sitting very close to the speakers, so the music would occasionally drown things out. But I will tell you the following, non-spoilerish things:

1) Heath Ledger DESERVES an Oscar and a place amongst the pantheon of Greatest Film Villains. I honestly forgot who I was watching during this movie. He simply IS the Joker.

2) The cinematography is mind blowing.

3) While I don’t follow the comics regularly, I have read the “major” ones of the last 25 years. This goes beyond them. This makes The Dark Knight even darker.

4) This sets a bar so high I am embarrassed for Watchmen and The Wolverine Movie.

5) I will, from now on, rate movies on The Heath Ledger Scale. 1 - 10 Heath Ledgers, The Dark Knight being 10 Heath Ledgers.

6) I spent the entire 2.5 hour movie tense. Muscularly tense. It took an hour for my back to relax.

7) Brian wondered if the air conditioning was too high. Why is the theater so cold?

8 ) And then he realized he was sweating.

9) $^&(@^*(!

10) Seriously, go see it. In theaters. As soon as possible.

I am going to take my unabridged right to own a gun and go stand over there in the Free Speech zone.

Tomorrow, I plan on answering every comment made to me with “At least I don’t plaster on the make-up like a trollop, you cunt.”

Personally, I think it rolls off the tongue better if you say “you fucking cunt,” but what do I know? I mean, I’m not a US Senator!

Here is a tip:

When selecting a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle, you would do well to avoid ones composing primarily of sky and ocean. I don’t care how pretty it is.

Now, I’m not one to torture metaphors, but…

The Kentucky Derby was today, and Hillary’s pick was a horse named Eight Belles, the only Filly in the race. No, seriously. Obama chose Colonel John.

Anyway, Eight Belles came in a far second to a horse named Big Brown. The Filly ran so hard to get second place when winning was clearly out of the picture that it shattered both ankles doing so and was euthanized immediately following the race.

I couldn’t have made this up if you paid me to.

Amusing, but not as good as the original.

I am, however, glad some one is getting fucked.

I suck at teh posting. But! Good reason! I decided to do the other wall, like I was talking about, and a couple weeks ago, I was painting and took a VERY GRACEFUL FALL from a chair. Why was I on a chair painting? Because I am too cheap to buy a ladder.

Anyway, sprained my wrist and thought I had pulled a muscle in my shoulder. The wrist pain, due to a wrap and ice, was shortly gone. The shoulder pain persisted, and I kept heat and ice and Icy Hot on it, even got a massage. It still hurt, but what are you gonna do?

What are you gonna do when your entire arm, from shoulder to finger tips turns numb?

If you are me, you ignore the pain until the numbness kicks in. And persists for 12 hours. Then you go to the ER, because shit ain’t right.

The ER gave me x-rays of my shoulder, two vicodin (cheap skates) and a sling. And a referral to an orthopedic surgeon, citing a rotator cuff injury. That was Friday. On Monday I saw the OS, who called the ER “retards” for not inspecting my neck, shouted “Sarah! X-ray her neck!” and then declared my neck “pissed off.” I start physical therapy tomorrow. Oh, and I have some muscle relaxants to help me sleep.

All of which is off topic. I finished the second wall! Pics tomorrow! And I’ve also decided to do a Grecian crackle in my bedroom. That’ll be fun.

Sunday I attended Election Worker training. I can now easily hack an iVotronic voting system.

Please give me ideas for my forthcoming 30th birthday. Megan had a neat idea: A wake, a funeral for my twenties.

Also, “Across the Universe” is an amazing film, that I demand all of you watch.