ahhh... but not such a contented ahh...

I told you guys I would become a blog monster. Seriously, it is addictive. I have an overwhelming desire for the two people who read the blog to know my every move. Sickening really.

Well, I'm watching my TIVOed episodes of the Newlywed Game (sorry Michael that I didn't wait for you so we could play along) while studying for my Spanish final. And as you learned from my first blog, I have an overwhelming urge to procrastinate and watching television just wasn't enough.

So I decided to check my credit report (something I've been dreading since learning that my name, social security number and date of birth are being passed around in the Connecticut "I don't wanna pay my power bill" circle). I found a few things that shouldn't be there and decided to call to put the fraud alert on my account. This means that anytime credit is requested with my information I will get a phone call, well at least for 90 days. A few more hoops, and I will be able to get this put on for seven years. But of course after I put the thing on the guy in Pakistan is trying to convince me to pay "only $14.95 a month" to have them monitor my credit every day. And when I said, "Thanks but no thanks," he made me feel guilty, like I was refusing to give my child medical care or something. Ick!

Speaking of children and medical care, poor Van Gogh has yet another ear infection. I think he may need tubes in his ears. Isn't that what they do for constant ear infections? Maybe it would help. My poor baby! He doesn't seem to be too bothered by it though, other than when he scratches his years. When he does that he cries!