30 March 2006
Today was spent in front of my computer working on a project that I hope to soon be able to unleash on the world:
29 March 2006
I wash dishes almost every day. Six months ago putting my hands anywhere near a sink full of water and food and soap would have made me gag, and when I first moved here I thought I'd die with no dishwasher. Well, I have a dishwasher...me.
Every time the dogs need to go out I either let them out or I clean up the carpet. There is no one else for me to poke and say "Your dog needs to go out." In the mornings when the dogs wake up at FIVE AM on a weekend wanting their breakfast, I either have to ignore them and try to go back to sleep or just bite the bullet and get up and take care of them.
Today I had a slight rug malfunction that is probably related to my current insomnia. Franny was under the coffee table trying to avoid the antibiotic I was trying to squirt in her mouth and I was on my hands and knees trying to get her out. She bolted, suddenly, so I decided to be smart and spring forward and grab her rather than standing all the way up and letting her get away.
Did I mention that I have hardwood floors and nothing holding my rug to the floor?
When I tried to go forward the rug went backward. I slammed into the floor on my elbows. Currently it feels like there is something in my forearms trying to dig its way out. Hard to get comfy with all that ruckus going on!
So anyway, hopefully tomorrow morning I will remember the post that I came up with while washing the dishes...but only if I sleep first...
27 March 2006
I again ventured into the murky depths of the basement of the Anderson house on Saturday to take things to the storage building on my Dad's property in Georgia. Some of the stuff in there was almost obliterated by the flooding we had 2 years ago...and because I was too lazy (and too afraid of the basement, let's be honest here) to survey all of the damage some of it was still sitting where it had been when "the rains came down and the floods came up."
Dad came up to help haul stuff in my aunt's truck, so that helped somewhat. Had I been forced to drive the Hound-a (my new name for my Element...okay, so I'm the only one that thinks it's funny?) packed to the ceiling with musty clothes and slightly moldy-in-places boxes I would have been on the short track to the ER. As it was, though, with the really nasty stuff riding in the back of my aunt's truck, I only suffered from an allergy attack that Benadryl made quick work of when I got home. By the way, if you're allergic to those kinds of things and you have them in your car don't turn the heat on full blast on your way home, I don't care HOW cold you are. By the time I got to Scott's to pick up the dogs I could barely see my eyes were so runny and itchy. In fact, my nose is STILL stopped up to some extent now, three days later.
I also got some work done on Kalyne's costume on Saturday. We got everything except the sleeves cut out and all that needed to be fused to interfacing was so fused. She's coming down this weekend so I can put it together and fit it on her rather than sewing and crossing my fingers that it works at the last minute.
Sunday was a blur...the dogs actually let me sleep a little late which was good...see, I took Claritin and Benadryl before I went to bed, so I was physically unable to get out of the bed before I'd slept the required 8 hours in a coma that Benadryl forces on me. At least it wasn't as bad as the night last week where they woke me up to go out at about 3am, I let them out, opened the curtain so I could see them, and crawled back in the bed "just for a second while they are outside." I woke up at 4:30 to Hunk frantically whining to come in. Bad bad bad Mommy.
Knuckleheads. I love them...they've kept my mind off the fact that I lost my best friend a week ago Saturday, my Zooey Boy. I guess now that it's Monday it's time to get off the soft thing I landed on yesterday and merge back into life at full speed, eh?
23 March 2006
-break down tent at CRF
-say temporary goodbyes to other cast members
-make plans for new garb to debut at GARF in the spring
-become overwhelmed with moving, put off new garb
-become overwhelmed with ice storm, put off new garb till you get back in your house and the power is on and it's warm enough to sew
-Christmas...need I say more?
-New Year's...friends don't let friends sew drunk. Put off garb until after Lost Boys show in Georgia.
-recover from New Year's Eve.
-purchase interfacing and thread for Kalyne's new garb. Put off your own till you have hers and Dave's done.
-This month is missing two days, so I can't possibly be held accountable, responsible, nor guilty for the fact that I didn't sew a single thing during the month of February.
-invite Kalyne down for a "sewing weekend," watch movies and play on the internet instead.
-have a major panic attack over the fact that the festival in GA is next month
-sit down at the computer to look for a costume to just buy and spend 8 hours looking through ebay
-wash old dress from last year and hope that it still fits
I'm flipping out today because I only have about three weeks to get Kalyne's dress done and I haven't even started!!! I'm heading down to Georgia on Saturday to take stuff to Mom and Dad's storage building and hopefully get Dad to help me with her costume. I've bid on a corset on ebay so I don't have to redo mine, and I'll just wear the McDonald dress again. It is one of my favorites after all...
Miranda's dress will just have to remain an idea (that you can see the beginnings of here) until after GARF...at which point all the procrastinating will resume again in earnest, I'm sure.
22 March 2006
Franny Hide and Go Sleep
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.
Happy Late Birthday, Franny-Girl. I know yesterday was the first one you've had to celebrate without your brother Zooey, but I don't think that warranted you trying to open a vein on my arm when I tried to help you dislodge that piece of food from the top of your mouth. I still love you, though...the way you scream when I pick you up or run across the room like a rabbit whose tail is on fire. Happy 12th, babygirl. Here's to 12 more.
20 March 2006
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.
Monday again. I'm still trying to figure out when I'm going to wake up from the dream that was this past weekend.
Friday night is an absolute blur. I was going back and forth between playing on the computer and holding Zooey and crying my eyes out. Saturday morning was crazy...I went to the McDonald family gathering (Mom's side, once every 3 months or so) at my parents' place in Cleveland, Georgia after dropping Zooey off with Scott to go to the vet for the last time. Cried a little on the way down but not too much. "Car Talk" and "Whaddaya Know" kept me entertained and distracted.
At about 1pm I started fooling with Daddy's computer to get set up to watch Daisy's first official maiden race. My cousins Margaret and Kristen were there to watch with me and I think Margaret really enjoyed it!! Daisy didn't do so well...you can read about it here.
After everyone left Daddy and I took a load of my stuff up to the storage building behind my grandmother's house, I grabbed dinner with them and then headed home. Somehow things are always worse in the dark, and as I was hurtling down the mountain from Cleveland to Toccoa I was overtaken by sobs. I was so afraid that Zooey was not going to forgive me for breaking my promise to him...that I would figure out what was wrong with him and make him better.
Somewhere around Westminster, SC, I had a revelation. I did make him better. He didn't hurt anymore. What I was feeling that was making me cry was just my own selfishness at wanting to have him around forever. I made it home by about 9:30 and played Everquest till I was falling out of my chair asleep.
Yesterday was another blur. Funny how only Saturday, the day he left, has any clarity. I know that I got some things done, I know that I slept a lot...but now it's Monday again, first Monday without Zooey yodeling to me while I'm in the shower.
I guess I could encourage Mills to sing...
17 March 2006
Hunk, two days after adoption.
In August of that same year we got a foster called Profile. Also 29 inches at the shoulder, but with a personality that was 10 feet tall and bulletproof. He was adopted out at the end of August but the following February bounced back to us and we never let him leave again. So on March 17th, 2001 we officially adopted Profile. I will never forget him coming back into our house that first day...I'd gone to get him from the GC director's house and he was so timid and withdrawn, not anything like the pup that had left us the August before. He came into the house, sniffed around, and then started wagging his tail.
Profile's Gotcha Day photo.
Don't get me wrong, I loves me some Jeany-Bean and she'll get her own gotcha day next month, but my boys are my heart. Especially right now, with losing Zooey, they are an amazing source of strength and love for me. Not to mention Profile's penchant for spinning in circles in the tiny front bedroom while tossing toys around willy nilly and grinning like an idiot...
Happy Gotcha Day, Boys!!! Thanks for picking me to be your Mommy. I love you very very much.
The Eyes Have It
Originally uploaded by NanLassiter.
He was not my first choice out of the litter of kittens. His sister Franny, a grey tabby with a penchant for screaming at the top of her lungs was my first choice. In fact, I wouldn't have ever had Zooey if it hadn't been for her. When I went to collect her to take her with me to West Virginia (my internship was with the West Virginia Commission for the Deaf and Hard of Hearing) she ran around behind Zooey and cowered. Zooey, being the gregarious sort, meowed at me and purred when I came over to retrieve Franny. They didn't even have names then...and we thought Franny was a boy...hard to tell on a three month old kitten that won't really let you pick it up and investigate.
So I took both of them with me, figuring that this way my little grey screamer would have some company. They were tiny tiny tiny, and sat in my lap as I drove my old Ford Escort over the winding roads leading to my new home and our new life.
That was twelve years ago, in the summer of 1994.
Zooey is going on a new kind of journey tomorrow, one that I can't share, at least not yet. He has been sick off and on for about three years now, and has been steadily losing weight. Two nights ago he looked me in the eye, straight in the eye, and I knew it was time...or rather, I knew my time had run out.
Zooey is my Tiny Man. He's my Zoe-Boe. He would sing to me in the shower and could jump almost up to my waist chasing after a feather on the end of a stick. He could sit on command and if I said "Gopher" he would sit up on his hind legs for a treat. Zooey's favorite foods were peanut butter, strawberry jam, strawberry pop tarts, strawberry nutri-grain bars (seeing a theme here?) and cheese. He never liked milk, and would rather chew on my hand than eat canned cat food.
I'm choosing to post this older picture of him because the cat sleeping in the chair behind me in the office now is not my Zooey. I'm not quite sure how I will get along without him. Twelve years is a long time to get used to having someone around.
I love you, Tiny Man. Rub your head on Lizzard's legs for me and watch out for BoBo, he'll probably feel like chasing you now. I won't say goodbye to him...everytime I leave the house to go anywhere I tell my animals I love them, and I'll see them soon.
See you soon, Zooey-Schmooey. See you soon.
14 March 2006
To walk out to the car this morning on my way to work and see those sofas...well loved, well used to the point of abused...upside down and sideways in the ditch by the curb waiting on the city workers to come haul them off to certain landfill-doom...almost reduced me to tears. I nearly abandoned my responsibilities just to drag at least the loveseat back in the house. But I didn't...I left them there, and God help me if the city doesn't pick them up today while I'm at work.
Hunky's pretty mad at me too I think. He doesn't approve of the new loveseat because the seat part is a lot more narrow than the old loveseat was. He tried to stretch out on it last night like he used to and slid off the edge. And as for the sofa being gone...he just stood in the spot where it used to be and cried. Again, I almost ran to the curb and retrieved it just so he would stop crying.
Anyway, through a strange series of events I ended up at my house last night alone with a loveseat and chair in the back of my car. The chair was easy. Light as a feather, easy to turn on its side and swing through my freakishly small front door.
The loveseat proved to be a bit more of a challenge. I walked it through the yard to the door and then turned it just as I had the chair to force it through the door. It can't be any wider than the chair was, I thought.
I thought wrong.
I'm not really sure what I did, but somehow I ended up with the loveseat up on one end wedged in the doorway. I had visions of never being able to either leave the house again nor let the cats out of the bathroom because surely they would scale the blue plaid mountain of doom and make their escape. I tried every way but Sunday to ease that small loveseat through the door and nothing worked.
Then I got mad.
I gave the loveseat a good yank, coupled with some very colorful language directed at the door, the paint job on the porch and front door, as well as anything else that had irritated me in the last 24 hours, and the loveseat and I came tumbling into the house.
I won't say that I hurt myself in the process, but if I lift my right arm and turn to the right simultaneously the shade of red that suddenly obscures my vision is quite possibly the embodiment of the flames that shoot up the right side of my back. I think it's just a coincidence.
Scott is coming to help me with the sofa on Thursday. Geezominey I hope the old sofas are gone when I get home or I'll have to blindfold the puppers for our afternoon walk to get them down the driveway...
I'm kidding! Sheesh... Go check out her blog, linked in the title for more race results, links to replays and lots of pictures.
Kid Running the Drive Thru Window: Ya got anything for me? (cue huge grin that would blind you if the sun hit his teeth JUST right)
Me: (hands him the money in stunned silence)
Kid Running the Drive Thru Window: Yep, that'll work! (cue grin number two)
Girl that was the Voice that took my order: Here you go. (hands me the bag of food and my soda)
Kid Running the Drive Thru Window: (leans out with my change and receipt) Be sweet. (said in his best "I'm 18 but I'm sultry" voice as he BRUSHES my fingers intentionally with his)
Me: (drive away laughing my fool head off)
13 March 2006
Our turn comes and I'm breaking bits of lamb lung into teeny pieces as we walk out center stage. "Profile knows his commands in American Sign Language," I say proudly. I then notice that he's got THAT LOOK in his eye.
Those of you that know him know what look I'm talking about. It generally preceeds something getting peed on or a mad dash about the den like it's the race track at Lowe's Motor Speedway.
"Sit" I sign to him. He backs up and scans the audience to make sure he's being watched. "Sit" I tell him again and he goes into a down. "That's not a sit," I say, reaching down for a better grip on his leash. At that moment he decided to do the trick he taught himself, so he stands up on his hind legs and snatches the treat from my fingers, grinning like a fool.
The audience roars with laughter.
He did manage to "leave it" (with me signing it I might add) when I put the lamb lung on the ground in front of him (after I finally got the ham to down!) and I swear he waited until I looked up to smile at the audience in relief before pouncing on it. "I'm done," I announce, giving a tug on his leash.
So next comes the voting for winner. "And tied for first is WomanWhoWentBeforeUs with her dog DoesAllTricksPerfectly and Nan with Profile for their COMEDY ROUTINE."
We had to do something else for the tie breaker so I picked something I know he loves to do when people will clap for him. He grinned like a fool, and we came away with first place.
Comedy Routine. Miss Jane would be so proud...
10 March 2006
I got the loveseat first when I moved to West Virginia. (My apartment was too small for the couch.) I sat on that loveseat, ate dinner on that loveseat, raised two precocious kittens on that loveseat...I even camped out on it, surrounded securely by a ring of Raid sprayed onto the carpet, when those little bundles of fluffy joy expelled their fleas into my apartment...
I then moved to Athens. The couch was reunited with the loveseat and the three of us lived, loved, slept, and ate together for three years in my wonderful little townhome on the East side. I miss that apartment, truth be told. My cats were bigger and less prone to scaling the ends of the furniture like tiny mountain climbers.
When I got married and moved to South Carolina, I parted ways with the sofa and loveseat. They were cleaned well and went to live with my sister in her new apartment. She kept them and used them and slept on them and all as I moved from my house in Spartanburg to an apartment in Anderson to a house in Anderson. She then married Dave and no longer needed the sofa and loveseat so they again came to live with me.
When we separated and I moved out last November, the sofa and loveseat came with me. Alas, they are but mere shells of their former selves, having had six years worth of greyhound toes digging into their cushions and now eleven years of heineys sitting on them. I was forced to buy slip covers for them just so they didn't look so ragged and inviting to even more digging from the hounds.
I fear I have kept them alive past their prime, and all I am doing now is prolonging their suffering. However, Amy and Charles have come to the rescue. They got new furniture with their tax refund and are giving me their sofa, loveseat, and matching chair! No more slip covers. Just happy, clean sofas.
Now I just need to do something with my old friends. Leaving them out on the curb doesn't seem right, and putting them on the front porch would make me look even more white trashy than I already do. Maybe Goodwill has a nuclear powered furniture-cleaner-upper somewhere back in their store...
09 March 2006
The photo is from Monday night at the track. After a wonderful day spent at the track kennel first and the farm second, we hit Orange Park for an FTH party! We had two races that were designated "picture races" that night in our honor so we trooped down in shifts to have our pictures taken with the winner. In the shot above, the winner is the one on the boxes but the dog in the number 6 blankie in front is Greys Big Chance, one of the dogs running for Cathie and Bill's kennel. He came in second and man oh man was he something to watch run.
My Daisy ran her first official schooling race Monday night and got 5th, not too shabby. I was a nervous wreck, especially after seeing Leah's boy Bernard go end over end and hit the wall in the first turn during the race right before Daisy's. That was a testament to the strength and determination of the breed though... Bernard hopped up and started following the pack but then turned around and made it back to the finish at the same time they did...just ran the wrong way. A link to the replays of the races is here, go to the Vault and pick March 6th, then click on 5scl for Bernard's cartwheel and 6scl for Daisy's race.
By the time Monday was over, I was exhausted and in some ways ready to come home, but in others incredibly sad. I think Mama Cathie put it best when she said she told her boss she had made some new sisters over the weekend. My house was so quiet when I got home, void of the sound of their laughter and squeals and especially the snorts. Daisy is again hundreds of miles away, and I miss her now more than I ever did before. She will be running her second schooling race tonight and you can bet I will be glued to my computer monitor.
Thanks guys, for the best vacation I've had in my life so far. I have not laughed that hard, cried that hard (at the memorial service), played that hard, or fallen in love with new friends that hard in a long time. I'm raising my coffee cup (full of Tim Horton's coffee, of course) to my new old friends. Until next year...if not sooner!!
We got to the La Quinta where we were staying till Tuesday morning only to be told that we could not check in until 1pm. It was about 12:55pm. But no, no check in, no keys given, no nada until 1pm sharp. We waited the five minutes that seemed an eternity to the growly tired hoarde in my car, and then headed off to our room.
The door wouldn't open. Finally my roommate Diane gave it a good shove and it relented, nearly sending her flying into the bathroom. We had a good laugh about that and then discovered that this teeny tiny room had no refrigerator. Wouldn't be a problem, but since I feed raw I wasn't relishing the idea of keeping raw beef and chicken backs in my room in just a cooler full of ice.
Apologies to those with sensitive tummies for not warning you before I described the meals I had for the puppers...
I got on the phone to the front and they said they would have a room for us with a working door and a refrigerator on the second floor "shortly." After determining that they did not know how long "shortly" would be we headed out with Janet and Leah to Walmart. Janet is from Canada, and says that all her trips to the states require a trip to Walmart because the selection at our Walmarts is better than that of the ones in her country. May I direct you to my post on Polka Dotted Undies and BBQ for a discussion on the inventory at your local US Walmart? Anyway...
We got back and there was still no room ready so Diane and I waited and waited and waited and hounded "Fingernails" at the desk and waited...and got our keys. We hurried off to get the dogs and head upstairs.
The door wouldn't work...at first, but I soon learned how to shove it to get it open.
Sunday night we went to a WONDERFUL BBQ at Mama Cathie and Daddy Bill's. The dogs got to run in their turn out pen which is long enough for them to get to full speed I think. Jeany was her usual tarty self and more than once gave some boy dogs the eye only to give them an ugly paragraph when they tried to get friendly with her. Hussy.
The highlight was sitting on the ground in the puppy run with Anne having our hair done by puppies. I even have the scars to prove it...precious little buggars.
More to come...
08 March 2006
"When you come home from a trip...remember this little tip..." -"Unpack Your Adjectives," Schoolhouse Rock
Thursday, 2 March 2006
I got up late as usual and made a mad dash to pack the car, clean myself up, shove the dogs in on top of the suitcases and hit the road. Luckily Kim and Leah got stuck in traffic around Charlotte so I wasn't that late meeting them. We got the Carolina Convoy in line at a rest stop on I-26 and headed south.
We arrived at the resort in the early afternoon and headed to our respective rooms. Leah called to see if we wanted to head to JAX with her to see the schooling races and then go to the kennel...well DUH, Daisy's there, hello? Fed my pups, left them passed out on the beds and headed for JAX, an hour's drive from Jekyll.
Now y'all, I am not good in person with people I don't know. While I kinda feel like I know the folks from Follow that Hound they are still people who only know me via the internet and I'm really NOT as charming, silly, witty, and intelligent as I appear online. Heck I'd be sunk here on the blog without spellcheck... Anyway, those two ladies charmed the pants off me during the ride down...by the time we got there I had barely any makeup left from the crying fits brought on by too much laughter. There was the infamous incident where Leah almost ran a red light and I bounced off the back of her headrest, the woman in the drive thru at the McDonalds that sounded like a teacher from Charlie Brown, and the joke we saw walking down a side street in JAX: a nun and a prostitute. I'm surprised that the kennel security let us in when Mama Caffie got there, we'd been guffawing in the parking lot for an hour prior.
Then all time and space stopped and I laid eyes on my girly for the first time. She looks like she was cut from marble, her muscles and bones and face and all are just so perfect. Her ears perked up and I thought I would die...but that was just seeing her in the turn out pen. Seeing her in her crate, getting to touch her head and kiss her soft fur...I'm getting teary now just thinking about it.
We met Trish and Chris as well as Mama Caffie, Daddy Bill, and Anne while we were there Thursday night and Kim got a surprise visit from Dodger, her pre-adopted pup! She thought he was at the farm but he'd been moved to the kennel...and I think dogs in 16 states paused and tried to bury their heads to block out the squeal she let out when Mama Caffie said, "See that brindle there? That's Dodger..."
Friday, 3 March 2006
Day one at Sandy Paws. We registered and then we shopped and shopped. Pictures will be forthcoming tonight of all the loot my puppers collected...mostly collars. They haven't had a chance to have lots of pretty collars until now so I might have gone a tad overboard...just a tad.
Kim and Leah went to St. Mary's with Ann to get their tattoos about lunchtime. I was supposed to go as well but I wimped out. There's always next year I suppose... I shopped some more, and then just hung out with my puppers. I am so very proud of them, they behaved better than a lot of the other hounds I saw there...yanking things off tables, running around snapping at other hounds that got too close, etc. It has taken six years and a lot of work but I feel that I can pretty much take my three anywhere and not have to worry too much.
Friday night was the Roo-Au but we decided to eat dinner in the lobby. One of the highlights was when Trish and Anne sent me to the bar to order them some "Girl Drinks." I just told that to the bartender who looked at me like I was nuts. I explained that I thought they probably had liquor in them and maybe an umbrella? She thought for a moment then started mixing things up.
Saturday, 4 March 2006
Day 2 at Sandy Paws. The reiki seminar was cancelled, much to my dismay, so I was forced to do more shopping. There was a plan to go to a local restaurant for lunch, but that turned into hot dogs and chili at the villa with the JAX crowd. Ace, a race dog that was visiting Sandy Paws and a possible pre-adopter was fascinated with the hot dogs and the kitchen...he even tried to stuff himself into the refrigerator.
Saturday afternoon was the talent show. I got there late, of course, and wouldn't have gotten in if Mama Caffie hadn't spoken to the guy in charge. Profile wouldn't do any of his commands other than SIT in ASL, but we somehow ended up tied for first place for our "comedy routine." Maybe we should take it on the road? He grinned on command in the run off and we won! Bless his little pointed head...
Saturday night was rough. There was a memorial service for all the dogs that had left us since last year's event, and I went with Liz's tags in my hand. People got up and talked about their pets that had died and I was really okay until Diane of Burpdog Biscuit fame talked about missing the white face in her pack. Lizzard looked like Minnie Mouse with her white face and dark brindle ears...and I bawled as quietly as I could, sitting on the astroturf floor and hugging the stuffing out of my three. Hunky and I went to the beach after that and wrote Lizzard's name in the sand. I stuck the glow-stick they'd provided in the dot over the I in her name, and then Hunky walked right through her name...scattering it to the four winds. I think it was symbolic though...it's time for me to put aside the loss of her physical presence and concentrate on the aspect of her that will always be with those of us that loved her.
After that I was up till 3am with Trish and Anne talking smack...well, holy smack to be technical. The dogs came away with collars from Sandy Paws...I came away with new friends.
Sunday, 5 March 2006
My roommate Kim got up early Sunday and left to head home, leaving me to pack for my Jacksonville adventure. We loaded up the car again and headed out to see puppies, racers, and most importantly, my Daisy girl's first official schooling race. To be continued...
06 March 2006
01 March 2006
The link in the title is to Daisy's blog. I'll be meeting my beautiful baby girl on Monday, and I can hardly wait!! I'm thinking that I'm going to give her a very special present while I'm there, from me and my Lizzard...if I don't change my mind. I have a collar ordered and paid for that is coming with the vendor to SP, so I'll get to give her that as well. Be sure to check out Daisy's blog for pictures of our first meeting, as well as my flickr album of her pictures.
Rest, relaxation, shopping, doggies, and the beach...plus meeting Daisy and getting to go to the track Monday night. What could be better??
And two, what kind of signal does it send throughout the world if it's okay for a British company to manage the ports, but not a company that has been secure -- been cleared for security purposes from the Arab world? So I look forward to a good, consistent review. You don't need to interpret. That's a U.S. question.Now then, kids, why do we need an interpreter? Because two people trying to communicate don't speak the same language. How often do I, as an interpreter hear that very same thing, "Don't interpret that" or "You don't have to interpret that?" Too often. What's wrong with that? It's arrogant, that's what. You are seen as taking advantage of the fact that the other person doesn't speak your language and using that fact to convey something you don't want them to know. You're telling the person that you don't value them enough to make sure they can understand what you're saying. In a press conference setting it isn't seen as much as a personal affront as it might have been had he said it during a normal conversation with Mr. Berlusconi, but it just proves to me that Mr. Bush doesn't really care as much about his fellow man as he says he does, something I kinda already knew.
For Dubya to tell the interpreter she didn't need to interpret and then continue to talk...well, as I've said before, I don't have to say anything to make our dear American President look bad...he does it so well on his own that he doesn't need my help.
Take this as a teachable moment, all of you who might use an interpreter in the future. Never ever ever utter those words to any interpreter worth their moral weight, and if you don't want the other person to know what you're saying either shut the (bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep) up or leave the room. Simple as that.