Nicole challenged me to find seven red things in my house and photograph them.

This is a cake topper from Bake it Pretty.*  Sadly, it has never actually topped a cake.

Here is Matty saying, “Howdy, Pard’ner!  Care to join me for nap?”

This is best little garlic chopping knife ever, and it’s only ten bucks!

This is a throw I got from a thrift store years ago for $4.  I will never tire of it.

This calendar is from Linda and Harriett.

In my house, even the shoes have dog hair on.

This is a telephone.

*I would like to note that Bake it Pretty didn’t send me this topper with the handle bars so messily glued – I made that mess myself.

Robitussin and Tylenol.  Doctors orders.

Watching the sun rise and set behind the curtain.  This is my straight-ahead view from bed, and even though it’s lovely (and those shadows of bars make it so-very-Brooklyn), I’m tired of it.  There’s only so much of mid-day bed lounging I can take before I feel like a slob.

Watching TiVoed episodes of Peoples Court.  Here, she’s saying one of her famous lines: “You know what we say in Spanish? ‘Ni tu mismo te lo crees.’ You know what that means? Not even you believe your own lies!”

Snobby tissues.  There are a lot of these.

Tea.  I was drinking chamomile but switched to orange when I started to come around.

Leeloo, my constant companion.  She is wonderful.

These past few days have been long. Really long. Epic. I’ve had the flu (swine or plain, I’m not sure. “It doesn’t matter,” I was told, “the treatment is the same.” But way deep down I wanted it to be swine flu so I could be bad-ass and trendy. So since I’ll never know: I have swine flu. That’s my story and I’m sticking to it).

I haven’t really left the bedroom, and I haven’t left the house since New Years Eve. The end result is that the rest of the house looks like a tornado hit it. “When you stop functioning, I do, too.” Rob said. No shit.
To be fair, he’s been doing a wonderful job taking care of me, and he makes a mean cup of chamomile tea. But the house is close to being declared a disaster area.

I’ve had amazing, vivid fever-dreams about all sorts of things: there was one in which I owned a giant pumpkin farm, another where I kept a collection of exotic big cats in an old mansion, and one where I went halfsies on an eggplant parm sandwich with President Obama. I wouldn’t normally mention them, but they feel so real.

Leeloo has been my near-constant companion. I think she’s worried about me. They’ve all been in and out of bed with me for the past few days, but Leeloo especially keeps peeking at me with luminous eyes, wondering if I’m ok.

I have a friend who is an MD, and we called him pretty late Saturday night for advice. He gave me a regimen to follow, and I’m starting to come around. Horray for kind doctor friends! Joey, if you ever need to start a podcast, call me. I owe you.

This photo of Tino NOT cooperating with a group photo makes me smile every time.

Last night Matty was curled in a ball in the spot I like to sleep in. When I came to bed, he moved, leaving a warm spot for me to cozy into. I think he knew I’d be really cold without Rob and without the heat kicking on, and wanted to help. Tino stayed on my feet, Leeloo snuggled around my knees, and Matty took his new position, snoozing down the length of my back.

My dogs rule.

Every morning in Prospect Park there are off-leash hours until 9 am. The chances of me actually seeing the world before 9 am are generally slim to none, but yesterday morning at five am I was staring at the ceiling wide awake and completely miserable. So I got up. I made myself coffee and quietly snuck Matty and Leeloo, their leashes and some poop bags out of the apartment.

Tino was sleeping, and I really didn’t want to deal with him, either. He’s horribly leash aggressive, and we aren’t sure what to do at this point about it. When he sees another dog he starts growling and barking and choking himself at the end of his leash, and it sounds horrible and scary. I know all he wants to do is play, but it’s hard to explain that to someone who has a tiny puppy on the end of their leash that’s cowering and piddling itself in fear. It’s something we’ve been working on, but we haven’t seen a lot of improvement in. If you have ideas for me, let me know.

Anyway, Matty and Leeloo, the dream team, headed out on their walk, and they were pretty jazzed just getting out there, seeing the sights and smelling the smells. I got to the meadow area of the park and unsnapped their leashes, and it was a few seconds before they both realized they were unteathered. Leeloo kind of jumped up and down a few times, and then looked at me like, “Really?!” and then she was off, gone, sprinting down the field, running for the pure joy of running. I never see her so happy as when she’s barreling at full speed. We’ll definitely have to go again.

1. Watched the first eight episodes of Lost, which I’ve never seen before. (Yeah, only five years too late!) I’m intrigued, but I think I’d be more into it if there wasn’t a supernatural element. A deserted island with a unique mix of plane crash survivors should lend itself to dozens and dozens of compelling story lines without the added necessity of weird, ghostly goings on. It just seems like lazy story telling to me. We’ll see. One question, though: why are Evangeline Lilly’s armpits not hairy? Oh, is that part of the magic of the island, too? Brilliant.

2. Made Rob make me me soup and fetch me pancakes from the deli down the road. Also he: patted my back, brought me fresh tissues, and listened while I told him, “I’m dying, no really, I am.”

3. Checked my temperature several hundred times, just to see. I think the “lifetime” battery in my digital thermometer is starting to bite it.

4. Consumed half a dozen trays of Lemon-Lime Gatorade ice cubes. I hate them until I’m sick, and then I can’t get enough. Thus, they are a good indicator of my getting better-ness: when they start to repulse me, I’m coming around.

5. Did some browsing at DownEast Basics, which seems to be a store for those of us that spent high school dressed head-to-toe in Old Navy. I discovered them over at Design Mom. Good stuff.

6. Had several in-depth, fever-induced conversations with Matty, who is, by far, the best listener of the three. I talked, and he blinked back at me. It was just what I needed.