Do Not Be Alarmed

I have not disappeared.

I've just escaped to lovely Anderson, Ohio.

This bustling Cincinnati suburb is home for the week while I house sit for two boisterous dogs - Anakin (no, he does not have The Force) and Palmer (yes, he has natural Bengal stripes).

I brought my laptop with me so I could blog, tweet and otherwise stay connected with the WWW - unfortunately I did not snag the home owner's key to take advantage of their wi-fi.

So I am relegated to posting between work duties (shhh...) and visiting the local Panera (man, I love their shortbread cookies).

Some of my comings and goings as of late:

Right now I have a big, blue heating pad on my ass. It turns out the ol' body starts falling apart after 30. First, what metabolism I had finally gave out. Now I am battling a slipped disc and the painful after effect of sciatica. It's painful enough to banish my fabulous shoe collection to the closet. Twice in a row, I've worn to work the same pair of fake snakeskin Isaac Mizrahi for Target flats. I'll bet you dollars to donuts that tomorrow makes day three.

So much for the beautiful Michael Kors, Nine West, and BCBG Girl heels I've got on standby.

As for this sciatica thing - I have never experienced something as painful. Basically, it involves a shooting pain running from my bum, down my right leg, around the back side to the calf and on to the foot. Sometimes my leg feels numb and asleep, other times it feels like someone is gouging my flesh with a hot poker. The pain literally brought me to tears last night, something that surprised me, considering I typically only cry when emotional pain is involved.

The whole experience makes me believe in the concept of medicinal marijuana. Where is my friend, Woody Harrelson, when you need him?

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The twice-daily trek to/from Anderson (I have to let the dogs out at lunch time) is making a dent in what expendable cash I have after all my recent auto repairs. I would consider busing it to the Far East, but somehow I don't think it's as convenient to ride Metro from Beechmont Ave. as it is my fair Oakley.

Besides, why would I want to ride the bus after making such an investment in my sweet Saab?

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Obama. Wow.

I'll you from my political soapbox, but did want to reflect on the momentous occasion this nation is celebrating. When I was a little girl, I used to wonder if a woman would ever become president. I was girly version of Alex P. Keaton (my, how things have changed) but was still inspired by Geraldine Ferraro. Years later I wondered whether the White House would ever truly celebrate diversity.

Last night, I went to bed filled with emotion after watching Nightline (when was the last time you heard that?). I was so excited about the hope for opportunity inspired by Senators Obama and Clinton's campaigns.

I am equally enthused about how the months play out leading to November.

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Well, I just checked the Doppler and it appears the severe weather is returning to the Tri-State. Dorothy, we're not in Kansas anymore - and that means it's time for KtG to hit the door and head for higher ground.

Next time I'll try to save you from so many parentheses.