There’s a missing dog in my neighborhood. He’s a Miniature Pincher named Spike with a, believe it or not, little spiked collar. There are colorful flyers for him on every lamp post, street sign, bulletin board, etc… I even got an email flyer for him here at work. And when it rained earlier in the week and destroyed all the flyers, they were replaced the next day. There’s a reward if he’s found, and the flyers say Spike is on – and needs his – medication. It breaks my heart every time I see one. When I take Murphy for a walk, I always keep my eyes peeled for some movement in the woods or listen for some rustling in bushes. He’s so tiny, he could be anywhere.

The reason I’m writing about this is because it breaks my heart. Of all the things that could potentially happen to Murphy, him going missing would be the absolute worst. I can’t imagine not knowing. Wondering where he was, what he’s doing, if he’s okay, being loved, being cared for. If someone took him, would they know he only likes soft treats, that his chest is his favorite spot to be rubbed and singing to him in a super high pitch makes him cock his head and wag his tail? I know millions of little details about Murphy and what makes him happy – details we’ve accumulated without him ever saying a single word – and it would be devastating to know SO MUCH about him except where he was.

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***Update! Spike was found safe and sound (and a little bit skinny) eight days after he went missing!***


Just got back from IHOP and shopping with the fiance. We went to Old Navy where I got flip flops – dozens of flip flops – for $1.

In case you’re wondering why I’d pick up LOTS of flip flops for $1, as if the price wasn’t reason enough to buy more than a dozen pairs, my plan is to have them at our reception. It’s outside, you see, and it’d be awesome if we could prevent stilettos from sinking in the grass. If you’re sinking, grab a pair. If your feet are sore from dancing, grab a pair. If you just think they’re cute, grab a pair. I’m a big believer in love being in the details. I want our wedding to have lots of love-filled details.

In less than a week, I’m getting braces. Something I’ve put off for one reason or another – fear, financial concerns, etc… – is finally happening. It’s because of the wedding. I don’t want to look back at those pictures and be embarrassed by my appearance. Because even if I’ve lost 30lbs and am having the most perfect of all perfect hair days, I will focus on my teeth and I will feel bad about myself. Of all the days in my life – and I hope there are thousands of them in my future – that’s the ONE day I want to feel good about how I look. It’s a tall order.


I’ve been drinking a ton of water today and I’ve had to pee every five minutes. It’s really annoying and I’m entirely too lazy to accommodate my bladder’s needs. And I’m cold. It’s freezing in this building. So I’m sitting in here, I have to pee, and I have my heavy – but warm! – laptop resting on my full bladder.

I have to hand it to The Fiance, he pulled off a very nice birthday party on Friday. I had my doubts because he was flying by the seat of his pants, no plan to be found, and I really would like to have seen a plan. But everything was great and I appreciate his efforts so much. There’s not a day that goes by that I am not thankful for or appreciative of him and his wonderful-ness. The man gets up early every morning with our puppy, empties the dishwasher, puts up with my stress-induced freak outs, fixes my computer, sits through DVRed Oprah, brings me flowers, lets me take countless pictures of him AND puts the Netflix movies back in their envelopes. Allan = keeper.

I have another dentist appointment tomorrow, Internet. That’ll be four trips to the dentist/orthodontist in one month. Holy crapoli. Tomorrow’s visit is to get my cavities filled and teeth polished. I’m nervous. My heart is beating a little more quickly than normal, but I’m going to be fine. Thanks to nitrous oxide, I’m going to be just fine… Deep breaths!


For the past two nights I’ve had nightmares about my wedding. Genuine, actual nightmares. I have absolutely no doubts about my choice of groom – in fact, I’ve never been so sure about anything – but the wedding? OMG, I’m in over my head. Because we’re having an ‘off-site’ wedding, there is so much to consider, collaborate and pay for, it’s making my head spin. I look like Linda Blair from the Exorcist, only not green and spewing vomit. But my head? It’s definitely spinning.

In addition to the spinning head, I’m a decade older. I’m 30. I don’t feel different, but it’s weird to say, hi, I’m Allie and I’m 30 years old. Not that I’ve said that. But this actually did happen: at the state fair on Friday, I ran into a friend and his family. He was pulling his daughters is a wagon, and one looked up at me and said, “I’m four!” And I said, “I’m 30!” And then she told me that her mother was 17 years old, which made her 40-something mother very pleased.

The fair was wonderful, per usual. I milked a cow, ate grilled corn on the cob on a huge stick and got great enjoyment from people-watching. There were mullets, there were muffin tops, there was spandex covering areas that should have been covered with tents. There were sweet families, mushy couples and adorable old people.

Our holiday plans are made. Thanksgiving with the K. family in PA, Christmas with the Sandoval (actually, Haynes) family in NC. Allan’s dad is going to watch Murphy while we’re in PA and I think Allan is going to be miserable sans the Murph Man. Allan and Murphy are BFFs, you see. It makes me beyond happy.

Ummm… I’m hungry. I’m eating some Peanut M&Ms, which is bad for me, I know. I shouldn’t eat them, but they’re so colorful and yummy, how can I resist? I need to go to bridal bootcamp, I swear.


I think this is one of the creepiest ads on the Internet.

Does it not look like the hot, young step-mom just killed that kid’s dad for the insurance money?? Step-mom is looking pretty sinister in her Jackie O. shades and big, black hat. I bet she’s hooking up with some unseen dude in the background.