pride goeth before the fall

ok first. am i the only one concerned about this big bang experiment happening in switzerland tomorrow? don't make me crawl up on my soapbox and start in on why we need to leave certain things alone, and go back to the good ol days.

i love autumn. the fall. its my most favorite season, hands down. and so i find it a little irritating that my internal clock always seems to take the term so literally. what better time to fall, eh? when in rome...

so i've been doing this detox thing, for the past few weeks. hopping back on the vitamin train. laying off the lard. prying my cold dead fingers away from satans sacred nectar (i.e. soda).

you know.

breathing. moving. what the kids like to call *living* . i figure, i'm young. hip.

or rather, my hips aren't hurting yet.

at any rate, i've been feeling a little like this guy in the process:



completely out of my comfort zone.

( chihuahua credits go to chico, the 2lb bat.....err dog we're babysitting for friends )

you know that point you get to in life, where you start to realize you're not as young as you used to be?

yah well.

its a reaaaal party pooper that one. a real crusty durfwad, if ya dig me. when your *perky* bottoms out and your wobbly bits decide to jazzercize without you. when you find yourself muttering about noise and your creaking knees and getting your full 8 hours of sleep and your full 64 oz. of water and arguing the finer point of orthopedic shoes. when all of a sudden, you can't get enough fiber in your diet, and there's this magical thing the hipsters call bran.

so we're dog-sitting this chihuahua for the week, right. and all of a sudden, what i fondly refer to as my *exercise routine*, which consists largely of putting frank out on the lead while i juggle supper and homework at the same time, just didn't seem to quite have the pizzaz ......the shish-boom-bah!! factor i thought it should.

i find that i am, unfortunately, excellent at obscure excuses. my general reasoning behind my hesitance to walk frank daily is that he's better off, on the lead in the back yard, because he's not up to date on his shots and therefore at risk for any one of 10 million canine diseases. the reason he's not up to date on his shots is because i'm a wuss and can't talk the vet out of 59 different tests each time we go, hiking my $15 shot appointment up to $60 once he's had a finger stuck up his rear and been properly swabbed for bubonic plague, aids and premature balding.

also, i like to think i'm, i dunno, busy. with stuff.

so chico shows up for a visit and i'm all, "wait. i should try this new fangled thing the kids are calling *walking*". which has been a great thing, you should know. but not without its perils.

picture this. sicily. 1945.

sorry. i was channeling sophia, circa the golden girls.

so i'm standing outside earlier. bravely attempting to keep dog a's leash from getting tangled in dog b's leash. bella has "run in" to pee, which translates into "i'm gonna be at least 10 minutes while i look for lipgloss". i'm all super hyped up for this new nifty hobby of mine, not realizing that dog b has just cris-crossed with dog a and i'm about to bite the dust. just then, what could only be a ginormous pteradactyl poops on my boob and in one swift movement, i scream, which terrifies dog b, causing him to run between my legs and both dogs do a reverse clothesline on my ankle. as the earth shifts underneath me, i struggle to find my footing, in the process, slipping on a fresh pile of poo and fall flat on my back. while i lay sprawled out on the ground, struggling to remember my name, i feel God adding a little insult to injury in the form of large plopping drops from the sky.

welcome back, fall.

ahhhh, how we've missed ye.