Oh yeah... On Saturday, we accepted an offer on our house. Assuming all goes well (PLEASE let all go well), we'll close on July 29th. It's going to be a long 6 weeks, but it's fucking grand to finally be moving forward instead of stuck in place...

This morning we took Indy into the vet's so that they can monitor her glucose levels throughout the day and get her insulin requirements sorted out. She seemed perkier this morning, actually ate a whole can of dog food (not the prescription stuff, which she's not enthused about, but a can of wet Pedigree - the vets said just give her whatever she'd eat), and kept it down even when we drove her to the vet's - but she wouldn't get out of the car and had to be carried into the vet's. I don't know if that's because she was weak or just immensely opposed to going back into the Bad Place - probably both. She hasn't really kept down a lot of food the past couple of days, beyond the fact that her body has been in starvation mode for the past two weeks, but if we can just get her body chemistry sorted out, I'm sure she'll be better.

Seeing Bill carrying her in and listening to her groan and whine, I lost it a little in the vet's office and have been weepy off and on at work since then. I only got a couple hours' sleep, though, so that's part of it too, I'm sure. Bill's not in much better shape sleep-wise, and had to go into work although he was supposed to have today off, so we're both kind of strung out today.

Hopefully, though, Indy just needs to be monitored and have her dosage calibrated. She's a very sick dog right now, and we certainly aren't going to make her suffer any more than she has to, but we're going to do whatever we can to make her well if possible.

Think good thoughts for Indy today, please.

It turns out that the soap under the sheet thing at Mom's house had a perfectly reasonable explanation. Well, aside from the fact that the idea still sounds a little wack. Fark even had a thread about it a couple of weeks ago.

So Mom is vindicated. Hell, I might even try it, since I also get the jimmy leg from time to time.

In my June 10 entry about Reagan and Ray Charles passing away, I wondered who the third famous death would be... Well, wondering no longer...

RIP, Godfather. You poor, crazy bastard.

Oddly, a news station in Phoenix was the first to pick up the story, hours before any of the major news carriers posted it. Fark was right on top of it, too - go Farkers!

Huh. So apparently the site by the woman who claimed to have toured Chernobyl alone on her motorcycle was mostly bunk. Sorry to hear it...

Well, then... Score one for the people; today the White House has announced that - and Dubya and Cheney will speak with the Commission privately.

So, Condi and I are cool again, I guess...