And now, a quick commerical break

So, I'm dog-sitting a fun-loving wolf-pack this week. It's a set of five dogs that Justin and I check on three times a day to let them out, give them love and make sure their bellies are full of yummy dry dog food goodness (remember, I'm never feeding a dog wet food ever again).

Notice the wrinkles on his tounge? It's funny. Trust me.

Problem is, they're -- with the exception of one -- various different breeds of terriers. We have Duncan, the alpha of the pack, who is a goregous Westie (and my personal fav). His tounge is also bigger than his mouth can support, so just the tip of it always hangs out. Then there is Jack, the Jack-Russell terrier; Kingsley, the Pomeranian; Elvis, the Yorkie; and, Bella, a dark-,coarse-haired terrier mix. Bella is the only female of the group, and also the one who randomly barks for no reason. Most of the time, the guys just ignore her after awhile because she won't shut up, and you could probably make some societal conclusions about the whole affair if you think about the interaction long enough.

As cute as they are, their breed type also means they shed horribly. And this morning, I decided to wear an all-black outfit to check in on them before heading to work. I looked like I had my own coat of hair by the time I got to work.

BURN!!

I could be this chick, I suppose. Her skin looks like she is a pug.

Last week, I went tubing for the first time. You may have read about it and my #WTSDS. But it's been a week and a day, and while the redness has subsided from the resulting sunburn, my skin is itching non-stop. Like, I would be at work and would have to run to the bathroom just so I could scratch my skin for 5-10 minutes in peace and without feeling embarrassed. Or wake up in the middle of the night and sit in a warm bath just to make it stop.

Weird thing is, I'm not peeling. It just feels like I have ten million bug bites that won't go away.

Anyways, it turns out that there is a list of things you should and shouldn't do when you have itchy sunburn and I pretty much did all of it wrong. So in the interest of helping you all out in the heat of the summer, here's some tips and tricks courtesy of WikiAnswers to making sure you recover quickly.

To Go or Not To Go... A Decision on Going to my 10-Year Reunion

As some of you know, I've been toying with the idea of skipping my 10-year high school reunion. Justin is indifferent (we were in the same school, graduating class) and given the last year and a half, I don't really want to be asked about how my life is going. Because, news flash, it sort of sucks right now.

You know how it will go down, right? Something to the effect of, "Justin and Jenni! Never thought you two would date, let alone marry. ("Yeah, I'm pretty shocked  sometimes too...") How's life treating you? You both were so bright in high school, I bet you have great jobs. So, how's it going? Started having a family yet?"

And then my answer will inevitably be something along the lines of, "I'm going to go cry in that corner now." In some ways, I want to pull a Romy and Michelle and say I invented the Post-Its. It's not that far fetched, really. I do work for the company that invented them. Hahaha. Unfortunately, I am not in R&D and I'm not an chemist specializing in adhesives, so that would be a short-lived discussion. Or it should be... I wonder how far I could take that discussion with people... :)

Why Power Suits Ruined Opportunities for Women in the Workplace

Climbing up the proverbial work ladder in the last couple of years has introduced me to a wealth of information, expectations and stereotypes about women in the workplace.

And now I’m in a bit of a culture shock situation. The shift from a female dominated profession/workplace (like many PR agencies) to a male dominated one is making my head hurt.

Thanks to the 1980s Power Suit, women have struggled to be taken seriously in the workplace. Yes, the very style meant to prove that women were equal to a man (at least in the shoulders) is the very thing that has screwed us over in today’s society.