Caution! Mechanic at Work!

So the 'engine coolant' light has been on in my car for about three weeks now. Since this is not the first time it has come on, I'm not as squirrelly about it as I should be. I'm due for an oil change too (or overdue, since I shoulda gone in September), so I just thought that I would get them done at the same time.

Flash forward 3 weeks and I still haven't gone and that little red light is like my conscience. Quiet, unassuming, but it's there all the time, weighing heavy on my soul

So I blow the dust off my owner's manual and read up on Engine Coolant, inconveniently located in four separate sections of my manual, all of which you have to read if you want to know what's going on.

I go to Wal-Mart and couldn't find exactly what the manual said I needed. So I called my mum and asked her to ask my dad (Dad's a little deaf and a lot Greek so asking him technical stuff on a cell phone is generally a bust. Your best bet is to ask mum, who will then shout it several times at Dad and when he mumbles an answer, she will tell you what it was). But Dad and Mum weren't 100% sure (at least you didn't sound 100%, Mum!), so I asked the guy who worked there. He was helpful, but unfortunately they didn't have what I wanted. And I hate asking questions like that because it makes me feel dumb. I'm not dumb, I'm just not an auto-mechanic.

So off to Cambodian (Canadian) Tire, where I purchase my Dex-Cool engine coolant and then it's back home. Jenge says, "You've done this before?"

"Nope!" I reply, "But I read the book." And here are my instructions if you want to do it too!!

1. After ensuring engine is cool (okay, I ensured it wasn't hot, I mean I drove home 2 hrs ago so it was warm but not hot), remove the lid of your coolant tank while being careful not to get sprayed in the eyes by liquid burning fire!! The burning the burning!! (this was according to the picture in the book of what could happen if you did it wrong - so not helpful)
2. My coolant (and I think everyone else's) has to go in a half and half mixture with water. Why they don't sell it diluted when everything else in the world is a rip-off, I have no idea, so step 2 - Fill pickle jar with water (I used a standard Vlasic pickle jar - Baby Dill with garlic)
3. Empty pickle jar into coolant tank
4. Fill pickle jar with coolant (thus ensuring my 50-50 mixture, plus my coolant tank was empty with a capital E so I knew I'd be adding lots!)
5. If still not full, fill pickle jar half way with water, the rest with coolant.
6. Add to tank.
7. Peer into cavernous dark hole and wonder if it's working. (This step optional)
8. Screw lid on tightly. Remind self not to wipe hands clean on cream sweater.
9. Close hood.
10. Check nails for breakage. No breaks, we're good!
11. Start car

And no coolant light!! I'll have to wait till tomorrow to make sure it doesn't pop on at some point since it was on 80% of the time, but off for 20%. Wish me luck!

So the running tally of things I can do for myself regarding my car is now:
1. Change windshield wipers
2. Change tire (Shut it Donna, I can so!)
3. Add washer fluid
4. Add Coolant
5. Check oil
6. Add oil (I haven' t changed it yet, but I have added it after the light came on!)
7. Jump start with cables
8. Check battery
9. Know when the alternator is about to blow and why the alternator is a VERY IMPORTANT part of your car!!

Yea me!

Lottery winner!

So I ordered some specialty soap from Bean'Stock and they called me on Monday to say that I may have gotten the wrong order. I called them back and let them know that I hadn't received it yet, but when I did, I would call them and let them know either way. So last night I opened the mailbox and got my delivery notice from Canada post and when I picked it up at the 7-11, it was the wrong order.

So I called this morning and to let them know and they said that they had re-shipped my order and that I should get it shortly. I asked if I should ship the mis-order back to them, or to someone else and they said I could keep it! I was like, "Are you kidding me?" and she said nope, I could keep it. I was so happy! Free stuff! I felt like I won the lottery! I feel like all my years of niceness have been rewarded! I always try really hard to be polite and pleasent to sales people and when I found out I got the wrong order and told them, she apologized and I said that it was okay, these things happen and not to worry and then she let me keep it! Whoo hoo! It's the best thing that's happened to me all month!

Crazy Cat Lady for the new Millennium?

Okay, so I post about my dogs. Alot. More than alot. Most of the time. This has me worried. Am I new and not-so-improved version of the Crazy Cat Lady? Will I find myself in 20 years with the Police and the Humane society at my door confiscating my dogs because there are over 20 of them? Will neighbors call in and complain about the smell forcing the cops to come and break down the door, where they will find 20 dogs all living in squalor and me, rocking in the chair next to a long dead fire, mumbling to myself about the good old days, which frankly, aren't that good? Will checkout girls give me a sad knowing look as I stock up with tins upon tins of dog food?

Is this where it's going? Is this what it's coming to? Thinking back over the last few weeks and about my life and wondering how often I go out and what I go out for, here are my findings:

I went to the post office because my online shopping purchase was in
I went to the gas station so I could get to work
I went to work
I went to my sister's to scrapbook
I was going to go to a party with Donna, but I didn't want to go so when Donna cancelled I was pleased as punch
I used the phrase 'pleased as punch' (so I didn't go out for that one, but it's scary none the less)
I went out for coffee cream (because life is not worth living if there's not a cup of coffee to look forward to)
I went to doggy day care

It's looking quite dire. Maybe I already am the crazy cat lady. I know my neighbors must think I'm loony since all they know of me is that I am quite frequently yelling out the patio door at Rocky: 'SHAME ON ROCKY, SHAME! NO BARKING, DO YOU HEAR ME?? NO BARKING!' and I'm usually in my pj's as I do this, hair all over the place. That and they've prolly seen me dancing in my kitchen. Little do they know, I'm dancing only to the music in my head. And I've recently taken up knitting. It's not looking to good. In fact, it's pretty ominous.

But I don't want to go back to my bar days for a number of reasons:
1. It's freakishly expensive to go out to bars. That being said, I am a pretty cheap drunk
2. At 30yrs old, I may be pushing Cougar Territory
3. It's no longer fun to have your ears ring for days due to the music
4. I don't bounce back from the drink like I used to. Time was, I could keep up with most of the people around me and still get up the next day and mow the lawn, but the last time I had the girls over for drinks, I'm pretty sure I took a nap in my bathroom for an hour. Or so Heidi tells me, quite frankly, it's a blur.

So what's a girl to do to get out? I've tried the sporty route, but my acrylic nails keep getting in the way (and I'm NOT getting rid of them!). I'm geeky, but not geeky enough to join a geek group. Book clubs don't interest me because they only want to read thinky-thinky books, which is fine, but really, I have to use my noodle alot at work and so it pretty much boycotts thinking on my down time.

So unless you've got some killer suggestions, it looks like I may be destined to become your neighboorhood 'cat' lady, only with dogs. Don't call the cops. If you're truly worried, drop off a pound of Starbucks coffee and a half litre of cream. I'll be fine!

What do you mean, it's not about me!!??!!

So, while I was at the vet last week, I brought up another thing about Portia-cakes that has been irking me. At bed time, she doesn't want to come into my room to sleep with me, she wants to go into mummy Jenge's room. She waits outside the door and cries, it's the saddest thing you've ever heard! But Jenge says it's impossible to sleep with both Rocky and Portia on her bed as they are both space hogs. So, no Portias allowed! But it's so SAD! I tell her, it's okay Portia, Mummy Margarita is having a party and they aren't invited! But no, she lays down outside Jenge's door and sighs....... Oh, the drama.

So I asked my vet, what is this all about? Why is mummy Jenge the star? What about me?? And my vet gave me the most SHOCKING news ever!!

It's not about me.





It's about the Sock! (Rocky)






Portia is a malamute, and they are pack oriented. They want to be where the party is!! Safety in numbers, who's got your six and all that jazz. Rocky, however, is a sheltie, and being bred for sheepherding in the lonely Scottish highlands, you didn't care about a pack. You only cared about your master(or in Rocky's case, his mistress). It was that or the sheep. And you DIDN'T make friends with the sheep. Sheep are dumb! Sheep can't even look out for themselves, they aren't going to look out for you!

Portia won't come into my room, because I am Alpha dog (Yeah, that's right, I'm top of the food chain, baby!) and Alpha dog sleeps alone (although sometimes she does sneak in for a few hours). Sniff, but it's lonely at the top! I feel like the girl at the party that no one wants to dance with!

So even though, technically, it's not about me, I still feel like I just lost the dumbest popularity contest EVER!!

Sniff.

Damn you, Cadbury, Damn you!!

Tis the season where I face my greatest challenge in the battle of the bulge. Cadbury mini eggs. OMG, they are soooooooo good. I actually had a discussion about them last night with Donna. While I thought it was just the crunchy goodness of them, Donna made me realize it's also their chewy texture and meltability. I've tried other chocolates, and nothing compares. I'm not even that much of a choco-holic. I could go days, weeks, without thinking about chocolate except those darn mini-eggs. Jenge bought a jumbo bag a couple of weeks back and I could not pass by without reaching in for a handful of chocolately goodness. So good! We finanlly decided that the mini bag of mini eggs is all we are allowed! The jumbo bag is too tempting! So now I limit myself to a mini bag a week. So yummy, so chewy, with just that extra but of crunch, mmmmmmmmmm. Cadbury, you are my nemisis! Mortal enemy! But like all great enemies, we have a complex bond of love and hate too intricate to unravel. I love you, I hate you. Damn you, Cadbury, Damn you!!

The Great Divide. . .

So, I was watching What Not To Wear last week (the America version, not the UK one, don't hate me Heidi!) and afterward they had another show on, What Not To Underwear. So, being the TV junkie I am, I stayed tuned. They took 3 women (regular sized women with regular issues - not size 2 women) and helped them change their underwear shopping habits. One woman was 34 and had never owned an honest-to-goodness bra. Now, I already knew that 85% of women were wearing the wrong size bra. I myself was one of them until this time last year when I took myself to a bona fide lingerie store and got fitted. Turns out that I've been wearing the wrong size since junior high (the last time I was fitted, lol). No wonder I could never find one I truly loved!

But I digress. . . One of these women had never owned a pair of thong underwear, to which I sympathized, myself being a thong virgin. But at the end of the show, she completely (!) turned around and swore off regular underwear forever. She had been stalwart in her refusal to try one, but then became a champion of thongs. This I could totally relate to, myself being quite stubborn in my refusal to try one. But after seeing her, I thought I would give it a go.

So I went to Sears, (where frankly, I get alot of stuff. Honestly the stuff at those Mall lingerie stores is soooooooo cheap it falls apart after 2 washes) and invested in a pair of thong underwear. I came home and informed my younger sister, Jenge, who, to my complete surprised, fessed up that she too had tried this before. But she said, apparently she had the wrong kind. Wrong kind! I repeated. There's a right and a wrong kind?? She nodded and told me that someone had told her that there was indeed good and bad thong underwear.
"Well, what's good underwear then?"
She shrugged, "I never asked. Didn't really feel like I had to know."
"Oh"

So I went to the most reliable source you will ever find on all things girly girly and female. My nail tech, Amanda. Seriously, if you ever need to take an unofficial poll or find out something or see if anyone else has the same problem as you, ask a nail tech. Their clients are all women, they talk to them for an hour at a time, and get to know them quite well. I've been seeing Amanda for at least 5 years I think. She probably knows more about me than you will ever, and knows just as much about her other clients. So I brought this up with her. And yes, she tells me, there are good thongs and bad thongs. She explained it all to me (I won't go into detail here as I don't want to get shut down by the blogger police, but suffice to say, simple underwear is better!).

But, I had already purchased a pair from Sears. So I'm stuck with what I got, and today was D-Day. So what's the verdict? Well, after trying to get them into a comfortable placement I finally gave up after 2 minutes and decided there really wasn't a comfortable placement. That being said, it's not all that bad, but it's not all that great either. I'm definately aware of them. Perhaps this will go away. Perhaps I need to try a few more. I guess I was wearing the wrong bra for years and was uncomfortable but that didn't stop me from wearing a bra. And now, I have the right bra and it's GREAT! So I guess I should give this the old college try. I'll let you know how it goes.

I'll give a big shout out to my mum who said she didn't mind if I blogged about my undies. Thanks, Mum!!

Knit Happens!

So in addition to scrapbooking, I have also recently taken up knitting. It occurs to me, that I can never just ease into a hobby. I must know everything I can! Buy books! Magazines! Supplies!! As you know, my paper fetish is well out of control (although recently I went to the scrapbooking store and only spent 6 bucks! Unheard of!)

The same is proving true for knitting. I started off my making a scarf for Portia (which she never wears, I mean really, she is a malamute and hardly in need of a scarf). Then I made a scarf for me, one for Donna, one for Amanda (my nail tech) and one for my older sister, Ann. Then I tackled my first big project, doggy sweater. I figured I needed more practice and since I was a beginner, chances were it wasn't going to be perfect, but Portia wouldn't care. Portia is now the not-so-proud owner of an ill-fitting but lovingly made turtleneck.

My other projects right now are a cape and what I call 'The Ugly Blanket.' The ugly blanket is going to be an amalgamation of different squares made with yarns of different colors and textures. The goal - make it as UGLY, yet incredibly fascinating and touchable as possible. Plus it's great when you only want to do a little knitting, you just whip up a square in whatever kind of yarn you like.

So now I have a yarn fetish too. Like some sort of strange yarn pervert, I slink into craft/hobby stores and stare at walls upon walls of yarn, reaching out and touching some, feeling the weight, wondering what I could make of it. I joined a yahoo group for knitters in my area too, and I'm glad to see, I'm not alone! Plus reading the posts gave me TONS of new websites to troll for my next yarn fix.

When I told Donna I really liked knitting she just gave me a sympathetic head tilt and said something along the lines of, 'But of course you do.' She knows she's even less likely to get me out of the house now! But I like it. It's very relaxing and strangely hypnotic. Like meditation. Only you don't have to chant (I mean, I guess you could chant if you wanted to, but then people would really stare!).

So I continue to happily knit away. Don't be surprised if you get a scarf for your birthday!

Graduation Day!!

Today was Portia's last puppy class and we graduated! She has made such improvements over the last 3 months! Those of you who knew us when I first got her know the troubles we had. The shoes we lost to chewing, the remote controls lost to chewing, the books lost to . . you guessed it, chewing! It used to be you couldn't ever leave her alone for fear of what would happen, but now I sit here happily typing away on the computer while she is downstairs, unsupervised and I don't have to run to the landing every two seconds yelling 'What's going on down there?? You stop it, you stop it right now! Don't act like you can't hear me! DON'T MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE!!'

I wish I could say I'll miss those days, but I won't.

She's still a spirited doggy, apt to find something if you leave it out, but we can now leave coffee mugs on the breakfast bar and not hear a dog jump up, start to lick it and then knock it over!!

Now, while on a walk, she will sit when you stop, she always stays to the left side and she will heel when told. She can also 'lie down' and 'come here.' I'm so proud of her!

For those of you interested in her nose, no new developments lately, still waiting to see if the antibiotics will do the trick. We'll keep you 'posted!'

The view from your high horse must be sooooooooooooooooooooo great. . . .

I am a TV junkie. I love TV. I'll watch crappy shows just because I don't feel like doing anything else. Don't get me wrong, I also watch a number of good shows, too. What I can't stand is when you ask someone if they watch a certain show and they say (somewhat disdainfully). . .

"I don't watch television."

Or even better . . .

"Must be nice. I'm too busy to watch television. "

All said in a droopy, my-personality-was-sucked-out-of-me-at-birth tone.

Well, it must be fabulous to be you. You must be sooooooooooooooo terribly important! You probably have more culture and refinement than the rest of us knuckle-draggers. You prolly only read non-fiction too. I bet you're just itchng for the next Encyclopedia installment to comeout. You prolly edit your own dictionary as well since those apes at Mirriam-Webster can't define worth a damn!

I feel sorry for you if you are so inefficient at your life you can't squeeze in a half hour of mindless television. I feel even worse for you because you have the personality of an old ball of lint.

Seriously!

So what if it's sucking my brain out? So what if you burn more calories while sleeping than when watching TV. I need a little fiction to take the edge off all the reality in my life. And there are good shows out there. The problem is, when a really good one comes along it's too smart for the majority of the public and so they cancel it after one season (or threaten to cancel it - Cross your fingers for Veronica Mars!)

So what am I watching? Take a look, but judge not, lest ye be judged*
1. Battlestar Galactica
2. Stargate
3. Grey's Anatomy
4. Reruns of Dead Like Me (on showcase)
5. Gilmore Girls
6. Supernatural
7. My soaps, All My Children and One Life to Live (Shut it, okay! I know they are totally unrealistic, but as I said, I get enough reality in real life!)
8. The Dead Zone (on space)
9. Numbers (if I can stay awake, but at 11pm on a Friday after a full week of work, it's a crapshoot)
10. Veronica Mars (when it comes to Canada, I don't have satellite)
11. Video on Trial (on Much Music. OMG it's the funniest thing I've seen in a long time!)
12. Holmes on Homes (on HGTV - honestly, I used to not like him, but he grows on you, the big lug!)
13. Mythbusters (on Discovery - those guys are crazy!! I love it!!)

I don't always catch all of them on a regular basis but if they're on, I'll plunk my butt down and watch. And I refuse to feel guilty.
So I hope the view from your high horse is pretty good, because I guess that's the only thing you're watching!


*See, knuckle dragger that I am, I do know some smart-ass quotes!

The Nose Knows, part Deux. . . . (or IT'S NOT A TUMOR!!)

This is a before picture of her nose - when it was all black!

So I just got back from the vet and she said that it may just be a bacterial infection but we can't know for sure without doing a biopsy on Portia's nose. (!!) So, we treat it as if it were a bacterial infection and then wait to see what happens. Dose of antibiotics in the morning, dose of antibiotics at night, wash food bowls in dishwasher daily.

If it's not a bacterial infection, then in is an auto-immune system disorder and this is how it starts before their 'faces start to fall off' (and that's a direct quote!!) I guess the skin starts to peel quite dramatically because the body is attacking it!!

Who knew a pink nose could be the sign of something so terribly nefarious!! At first I thought it was so cute. Oh, look, her nose is turning pink! Little pink nose!! How darling!

And now it's like a ticking time bomb sitting on her face. We just have to wait and see. . .

WHO KNEW!! Cross your paws for Portia!!

The nose knows (or Karma is a crazy bitch!)

Now I know that I was going on and on yesterday about how I luv pink, can't get enough of it, fave colour etc etc. But there is one thing I don't want to turn pink!

Portia's nose!!

Yes, in a weird twise of events, Portia's nose has been changing from black to pink (although you can't really tell in the photo. She didn't want to pose. Maybe she is sensitive about it??). At first I didn't give it much thought, but then Jenge said, 'I wonder why it does that?'

Well, heck! Now I'm wondering why it does that. So I went to the one place I go whenever I have a burning question that must be answered immediately!!
Google!
Turns out other people have had this problem as well. It could be a number of things:
1. Ceramic or plastic food bowls will sometimes cause this. Portia has stainless steel (nothing but the best for my baby!)
2. Lack of sunlight during winter can cause loss of pigmentation - It has been rather cloudy for Calgary.
3. An Auto-immune system disorder. (SOB!!)

So, of course, I am fixated on cause number 3. Portia is no stranger to being sick. When she was rescued by Arf she had the Parvo! Then once we had her, we found out she had worms, and then a parasite, and then. . . . wait for it. . . . puppy herpes (now there's puppy herpes and human herpes and NEVER THE TWAIN SHALL MEET!! - My first question to my vet after 'Is she going to be okay?' was 'whoa, can I get it?' to which she emphatically responded NO). And she's had several eye infections and some bladder trouble too. My vet says it's part and parcel when you rescue a puppy, they're prolly going to be sick for the first couple of years. And since she had the parvo, she has a weaker immune system than other dogs her age.

But we passed the two year mark (much like premie babies, the two year mark is very important for a puppy's immune system) and I thought we were in the clear!!

But then, her nose turned pink! And Jenge noticed one of her teeth was bleeding. My baby!!
So we're off to the vet in T-minus 1.5 hrs. Portia luuuuuuuuuuuuvvvvvvvs the vet. And why wouldn't she, we're there often enough and they always tell you that you are a good dog, and then they feed you cookies. I however, generally get chewed out for something (You're not strict enough, she's too fat etc etc). Although I have to say, when the vet said that Portia was too fat (so fat that even her tail was fat) and that I had to put her on a diet, I was like, 'Doc, don't you think that's a little kettle-ish of me?' To which the vet gave me a blank look. I added, 'You know, pot, kettle. . . ' and then I pointed to my slightly chumby belly. The vet kept staring at me blankly and then said, 'Cuppa kibble in the morning, cuppa kibble at night. Two or three treats. THAT'S IT!!'

I asked Jengie once if she would put me on the Portia diet (Portia lost 12lbs!!) but Jenge said it wouldn't work because I know how to open the fridge. Go figure.

But I digress!! I will keep you updated on my Portiacakes!!

Pink-a-holic

Amazingly enough, nothing too kooky happened to me today to blog about. And then I started to panic! Blogger's Block! But I'm still a newbie! How can I have blogger's block?

So then I just decided to yammer on about some stuff. And if you know me, you know if there is one thing I can do VERY WELL, it's yammer on.

So, what's it like in Margaritaville? Well, it's pink. Very pink. In fact, pink is my favourite colour. People roll their eyes at me (yes, Donna, I'm talking about you!!) but I don't care. I like pink. I look good in pink. Pink makes me happy.

I even went so far as only packing pink tops when I went on vacation last year and it was great!!
I have pink keds (which I had to buy in size 9 and a half since they didn't have the ten, but they stretched out), a pink watch, pink purses, pink shirts, pink eyeshadow, pink lipstick, pink underwear, I woulda bought my cell phone in pink if those communists had let me! (See previous post). Of course, I don't wear all this pink at once. That would be obscene! I sparingly pepper my day with pink.

Donna is what I call a pink-a-phobe. She fears the power of pink! 'It's so girly!' She says. Well, this just in, I'm a girly girl. You know, alot of women fear pink. I think they think it makes them seem frivolous and silly, not as tough-as-nails as they want to appear. But I know who I am and what I can do so I have no fear of the pink. I EMBRACE THE PINK! I don't care if when you see me in pink you (falsely) assume I don't have two brain cells to rub together. I know I could kick your ass at mensa mind games! I don't care if you think I'm a prissy valley girl, I know that I could rip a strip off you a mile wide and you wouldn't even know some of the words I used.

So, don't fear the pink. Embrace the pink. It's okay. You'll do fine.

They've got my Number. . .

I got this thingy in the mail from my cell phone provider saying I could upgrade my phone. Now, I hardly use my cell phone, so upgrading it is not something I really think about. But since my cell phone is over 6 years old, I decided to treat myself to something shiny and new. Something that I could actually download a ringtone to.

So I hauled myself to the mall yesterday, but their computers were down and they couldn't help me. I graciously accepted this and agreed to come back the next day. So I went there today and a nice young woman helped me. Now I know it's prolly silly, but whenever men help me, I feel like they are implying that the technology is over my head. I get very squirrelly about going in when I see it's all men. They talk in this really low, slow voice with a sympathetic head tilt. I don't know alot about cell phone technology but I do have a mathematics degree and a computer programming degree, so I'm pretty sure I can keep up. But I digress. . . So I choose the phone I want and since I'll be signing a three year term agreement it's FREE! Or so they tell me. But then she (the nice young sales woman) asks if I want the warranty. My 'suspicious' vibe always goes off here. Must be too many years shopping at Future shop. I politely decline, because we all buy these warrenties but then when something actually goes wrong, the warranty has either a) run out or b) doesn't cover the problem. But then she tells me that I really do need it, in fact, 67% of cell phones fail in their first year! And two thoughts go through my head:

You are lying to me and trying to push me into something I don't want!! Which makes me VERY UNCOMFORTABLE!

Thought number 2:

You are not lying to me and that is the most incredible statistic I've heard all year!! 67%!! How can they run a business like that! Knowlingly manufacturing and providing a product that has a higher failure rate than success rate!!??!!

Can you imagine if you ran your business or worked like this? I can just see how it would go. A client would call me asking about the details of their database upon project completion and I would inform them that either:

A) the database will fail within a year

B) you won't be able to locate 67% of your documents. In fact, when you go to produce them in court, the database will flip you the bird and then shut down. Or -

C) We've imaged all the documents but they are only 67% correctly linked. You click on a document, you'll most likely get the wrong image.

But, I will continue to tell my client, if you prepay me a certain amount now, I will guarantee that I will at least look at the problem before telling you that you are up S^%T creek without a paddle. Any other questions??

How can this be possible?? How is this legal?? Doesn't anybody at the cell phone companies care about their job? Don't they take any pride in their work? I take a lot of pride in mine, I practically beam with motherly pride when Char tells me she really thinks the database is good and is very searachable. And when I produce a good database, I let the client know how searchable it is, that they WILL be able to locate any document they want. My job may be boring to alot of people, but I like it and I do it well. And that gives me a warm fuzzy.

Am I a dying breed? Am I a nerd because I want to work hard and get it done right?

Sniff. Sigh. So I caved and bought the warranty. And then there was a fee for renewing my contract (which expired next month). So my 'free' phone cost me 135.00 smackolas. I just KNOW that somehow, somewhere, this has GOT TO BE ILLEGAL. It makes me so mad that they can get away with this and we all just keep lining up like sheep. We don't like it, but we just shrug and say, 'well, what can you do?' And it's not like you can take your business somewhere else, because they are ALL like that!

Honestly, I want to start my own cell phone company! The phones WILL work!! The sales people will NOT treat you like an idiot! There WILL BE NO SMALL PRINT!! And the phones will come in any color you want!! I say this because they only had ONE PINK PHONE and I didn't even see it in the store, only online. Communist BASTARDS!!

You would think I would feel better now getting this all off my chest. But I don't! It just makes me sad, mad, and defeated.

Sniff.

The Best Show on TV You're Not Watching!

So I just finished my fave Saturday night activity - Battlestar Galactica!! (BSG)And if you're not watching this show, you are missing out!! Now I know what you are saying to the computer screen right now. You're saying, 'Squirrelly Girly, I am NOT A Sci Fi geek!! I don' t watch shows about robots and space ships!!' But I am telling you, this show is not about robots and space ships! This show is about people! Robots and space ships optional!

Honestly, the writing and storylines are SO GOOD you could take out the Cylons (the Bad Guys for you non-BSG watchers) and sub in any other bad guys. You like Nazis? You could sub them in. You like secret government Malvolios? Sub 'em in! You could take out the space ships and just sub in any old army stuff (although you would lose TONS of cool Viper Fight scenes!!)

Plus, it's got Edward James Olmos as Cmdr Adama! C'mon!! You gotta love Edward James Olmos!!

Normally, I can't reccomend any shows I watch on space to other people because there is too much jargon, or spacey things going on, (flashback to Wednesday night when I had Donna over to watch Stargate SG-1 because her cousin had a part and she didn't even know what a cloaking device was!! Can you believe it!!) but this show is chock full of political intrigue! Complex human relationships!! Moral dilemmas!

If you are not lucky enough to have the SCI-FI channel, you can catch BSG Saturday nights at 6pm (MST) and then again at Midnight. We're behind the US airings, but if you simply can't wait you can read the episode synopsis at scifi (link above). Even Jenge sat down at watched it! And I can't even get her past the opening sequense of SG-1.

Bellyachers and Bee-atchers!!

So my office is being slightly renovated right now and let me tell you! The bellyaching coming from these constructions workers is UNBELIEVABLE!!

There was bellyaching for 40 minutes about the fact that the alarm guy put the wire into the little gap between the old wall and the new wall. So what? You still have to apply the same amount of plaster no matter what is stuck in there. Why do you care? It's not your wall. You won't have to worry if we ever need to get it out. You don't work here. In fact you are not currently trying to do your job with people you don't know talking to one another and bringing in ladders and playing bad music on their radio!!

I totally think if anyone should be bee-ataching it's me!!

OMG and then his friend called him on the phone and he bee-atched to him! And then another guy came in and the story started all over from the beginning. The entire time he was taping and plastering the wall it was long-pronounced-drawnout-woe-is-me sigh after sigh.

Everyone but me seemed to think that they were working pretty fast, but I disagreed wholeheartedly. I don't think it should take an entire two days to put up a wall 7 ft wide and then put on one coat of plaster. My dad drywalled and plastered a bigger area in my basement in one day! By himself!! And he's 65!! And if you've seen him work, you know he shuffles! And he's got the shakes! (And before you call the Senior Police on me, I DID NOT make him work the whole day, ask my mother, it's impossible to stop that man.)

I can't believe this garbage! You shoulda heard it. And then it was time for a coffee break, and then it was lunch, and they just come in and out of the office without even looking at me. They have yet to introduce themselves. Rude!

And I had a headache (which is unusual for me, quite frankly. I'm very lucky, I only get headaches due to neck muscle tension). But they were nailing into concrete! Ever tried to work while that's going on??

And the wall was supposed to go up past the ceiling for security purposes. Well! You shoulda heard the bellyaching about that. Mr. 'I can't believe this wire is in the wall' was going on and on about how hard it was for his buddy to put that wall there.

Excuse me, is this your job or not?? And if it is your job, shut it. Because my job right now is to get another 100 files into the database and then try to write my very first report about it. And then the contractors stood in the hallway and had a half hour conversation about how they didn't feel like working anymore because it was Friday.

It was 2:30pm! And I did feel like working, in fact, that was my whole purpose when I got up this morning, got dressed and came to W-O-R-K. Crazy me! But you know, I'm squirrelly like that!

Memory troubles

I've got a weird memory. And if you look at the stuff I remember vs. the stuff I forget it's a crazy combo. Some things, it's pretty easy to guess why I remember what I don't vs. what I don't. Exhibit A - I will ALWAYS remember exactly how much I paid Mastercard and in my head I've got my balance all figured out. Then WHAM!! The bill arrives and all the s*&% I've charged up? Completely outta my head. I'm like, WHAT??!! Why are you not at ZERO yet? You fascist bastards! This is total BS. I say FRAUD. I didn't go to Jack Astor's! Oh wait, was that when Donna came back from Montreal? Okay, I'll give you that one. What the hell is this? Virus Subscription?? Oh, right. McAffee emailed me that I was auto renewed. Bull and Finch? Wait, wait I'm having a nacho flash back. But where the hell was on on March 3rd that I used my credit card? Hang on. . . . MALL I was at the mall buying gifs.

Okay, so you're not fascist bastarts. This time. Ooooooooooohhhhhhhh but just you wait Mastercard, just you wait, one of these months you're going to zero out, bad boy!!

So, weird memory combo - The database I'm working on at work has 522 entries in it right now. If you quizzed me right now, I could prolly list off almost 400 of them (freaky no?). Another database at work has over 7000 entries in it and if you tell me the details of a document you want to find, I will tell you the number range it's in. I can also name all the employees of several government departments from the 1880's onward till about 1920.

Now quick, what did I wear to work today? ummmmmmmmm, I'd have to check the floor of my bedroom.

I'm AWESOME at Name that Tune. Just ask Donna. Name a movie star I will tell you the movies they have been in. Read a good book lately? If I've read it, I can sum it up for you in two minutes or less. If I watch a tv show, I can give you a detailed synopsis complete with dialogue snippets and wardrobe commentary two weeks from the air date.

Quick question - where are my keys?? huh, coulda sworn I left them on the counter. . . .

Not only do I double book myself because my memory fails me, I've actually triple booked myself before. Had no clue!! Jengie actually told me that I had already made other plans. Twice!

But if you want to know the complete mathematical proof for proving that if a series has a limit, then that limit is unique, I'm your gal!!

I don't have a daytimer, I kept forgetting it at home. So I keep all my appointments in my head, or written down on cards in my wallet. At work, I am queen of the post-it note. I write down obscure notes and stick it on my monitor. I generally have about 7 of them up there at a time, ranging from 'Sit up!' (posture reminder) to 'Ctrl+pageUp' (to flip between tabs in Excel) to 'Thurday is Plant Day!' (to water plants).

But I can remember that the current play count for 'The Ghost of You' on my iPod is 91. And I know my airmiles number and my bank card number. Plus I can recite nearly the entire coffee manual from Starbucks (Verona is 20% Italian Roast for added sweetness, Kenya is a medium bodied fruity coffee, and Ethiopia Sidamo has a crisp, lemony finish).

Bizarre!

And another thing!!
While I'm on the subject of that damn Pussycat doll song, let me just state emphatically that I do give a hoot if you're staring at my beep! I give a big, fat, ugly, hissyfit worthy hoot!! And if you're playing with your beep while you're staring ay my beep AND you're in a public place, I'm pretty sure the Calgary police give a big hoot too! You can explain it all in the paddy wagon on your way to central booking!

I'm Tired!

So I have a long commute in the mornings and since I haven't yet bought the adapter thingy that will allow me to listen to my ipod on the way to work, I forced to flip through radio station after radio station trying to find something decent to listen to on my commute. And frankly, I'm royally pissed off! I get so irrationally angry while trying to find something I can listen to and not be annoyed at! I don't want to hear 'funny' phone calls to people who are just waking up out of bed (I know funny, I am funny and frankly, you are NOT!) I don't want to hear little kids reciting questionable lyrics to songs so that the unwashed masses can take a stab at it. I don't want to hear people call in and offer their inane opinions. I have my own inane opinions quite honestly and if you're one of the people who don't have any opinions of their own and have to borrow some from other people, you don't deserve to open your mouth to speak.

I don't want to hear surveys, contests, questionaires.

What do I want to hear?

Traffic report and music. THAT'S IT!!

And while I'm on the topic of music, this brings me to another peeve I have right now. I'm so sick and tired of hearing songs that I can't even listen to without getting infuriated at the lyrics. How is it that you can't show someone's ass on TV, but you can play a radio song that refers to me and all my other fellow women as b*%ches and H#'s and other unsavoury things? Kanye ain't saying I'm a Golddigger but I'm trying to pass off someone else's kid as his and soaking him for everything he's worth!! And Eminem (who normally I don't have a problem with, most of his stuff has got a good beat and you can dance to it) is telling me to Shake my A$$ and other stuff I can't even write here because the blogger police will flag it and shut me down! It used to be I only had to worry about being objectified by men but now I have to worry about being objectified by women too. The Pussycat dolls are saying that they don't give a hoot if you're looking at my beep, I'm gonna do my thing while you're playing with your beep (and yes, the song really does beep. In fact it's called Beep). And Fergie is telling everyone about her lovely lady humps and lumps (that sounds sooooooooooo unattractive!! What are we? Hunchbacks with a nasty skin lesion disease??EW!!)

I just want something you can cruise along to as I drive my 45min+ commute. I just want to ease into my morning without feeling my heart start to pound against my chest with rage. Honestly, I'm gonna have an aneurysm. I'll prolly get so upset one of these days that I'll accidentally crash my car because I was blinded by RAGE!! I'll go non compos mentis (check your latin dictionary) and have a FREAK OUT and start screaming and yelling at not-so-innocent passer byers!!

Can I count on y'all to be on my jury?? I figure I have a pretty good stab at a 'Not Guilty by reason of insanity' plea if people who've read my blog are on the jury.

The Sock

While I love my Portia-cakes, I feel remiss in not putting a post about Rocky, aka 'The Sock.' Rocky belongs to Jengie, and Jengie being who she is HAD TO HAVE a pure bread Blue Merle Shetland Sheepdog, just like our dearly beloved Brandi (may she rest in peace with much kibble). Rocky is the anti-thesis of Jengie. She is laid back, he is high strung. She is pretty casual, he must have things just so. Every morning (at least every morning I wake up with the dogs) Rocky and I have our special little ritual. I think it bonds us and brings us closer. Let me share this special time with you. . .

After being barked awake by Portia I stumble across the hallway and open Jengie's door to let the Sock out. He races by me without so much as a 'by your leave.' Then we go downstairs, me being careful not to trip over 8 paws on my way. I generally have to go to the bathroom but my mum always told me a good cowboy (cowgirl, I guess) looks after the animals first! So I put Portia out to pee. Rocky will not go out before he eats. He just won't so he stares at me as I fill up the water jug and go to put a centimeter of water in his bowl (he likes his kibble watered down a little) and then fill up his bowl. I let Portia back in, Rocky barks at me. Then I scoop kibble into the bowls. Rocky barks at me. Now Portia will eat Rocky's food if he's not protected, so I plunk my tired but down on a chair right in front of him and 'guard' him. Portia wolfs her food down in 2 minutes flat and then starts trolling for lost kibble. At this point, Rocky will start to growl as he eats (slurp slurp crunch Arghhhhhhh arghhhhh, slurp crunch arghhhhhh). I tell him it's okay, I've got your six, slurp crunch arghhhhhh. Then I put Portia out again. At this time, it's now safe to leave Rocky so I can go to the bathroom (they will both bark at me and thump against the door if I try to go before this). By the time I come out of the bathroom, Portia is ready to come back inside, Rocky is barking at me. I open the door, she comes in. Rocky barks at me. I say, 'Go potty!' He barks at me. I stamp my foot and point outside, 'Potty!' He growls at me and barks a few more times. 'Go Potty!' I yell this time. At this point I'm pretty sure the entire neighborhood is now ready to go. He goes outside a few steps, turns around and barks at me. 'Go!' The finger point is more pronounced this time. It is then, finally that he lets out a huff of indignation and trots down the steps. When he comes back inside, Portia is drinking out of his bowl and he barks at me. Then Jenge comes down the stairs and sits on them. Rocky bounds over to her and sits two steps above her and nuzzles her ear, sniffs her hair and makes squeaky 'Mummy! You're here!!' sounds. Jenge says 'What's all the barking about?' (Like this doesn't happen 5 days outta 7). Then he jumps off the stairs, looks at me and huffs.

And there you have it! Our special time together. Just the Sock and me!

One of the GREATEST movie moments we've never seen!!

So, as the title of my blog states, I'm squirrelly. Translation - alot of kooky thoughts bouncing around in there. Several people have told me they would like to spend a day in my head, but as Jack Nicholson said in 'As Good As It Gets': Go sell crazy somewhere else, we're all stocked up here!!

So, what exactly does go on inside my noodle on a daily basis? Well, here's one of the things I've been thinking about. Ever wonder what the characters who aren't the main characters are thinking when something BIG happens in a movie?? Their reactions could potentially be the best part of the movie. I have a particular scene in mind. . . .

Luke Skywalker has just surrendered himself over to Imperial troops on the planet of Endor. They escort him to Lord Vader and turn him over. To the avid Star Wars fan, you know what happens next, Luke and Vadar start to chit chat, you know, your typical father-son reunion, Hi I'm the evil Sith Lord who does the Emperor's bidding and your my young rebellious son trying to overthrow the Empire, yadda yadda. But imagine you're the stormtrooper trailing along behind them. You've just brought Vader the ulitimate prisoner!! The elusive Skywalker! And you didn't even have to muck up your nifty stormtrooper pants to do it. So, you're walking behind them all proud of yourself and then you hear Luke say it:

'I know. . . . . .father!!!'

And Darth Vader CONFIRMS IT!!

'So you've accepted the truth that I am your father.'

Your mouth drops! Of course no one can tell because you're in that dorky stormtrooper hood. Dumbfounded, you watch as they two of them saunter off, continuing their little father-son chat. You hustle your plastic covered a$$ to the coffee break room and bust in yelling, 'Oh My GAWD!!' All the other storm troopers look up (with their blank expressionless helmets - honestly, they need bibs it's such a mess to drink a mocha through the air slots). You can hardly speak, 'I just heard Luke Sywalker call Lord Vader DAD!! And Lord Vader AGREED!'
No WAY - they protest, a rumbling rush of gossips starts to spread.
TRUE STORY!! You proclaim. 'Can you freaking believe it??!!' They are all looking at you, looking at each other, the coffee break room is stunned! Even the stormtrooper in the little green Starbucks apron has put down his milk steaming pitcher, slave Ewoks are still pushing minature brooms to clean up the coffee room, because as we all know, Ewoks don't speak English.
'Who's the mother?' someone asks
'Does Darth Vader have a girlfriend?' says the guy in the corner.
Stormrtrooper to the right says, 'How on earth . . I mean, it must have been before the whole evil black suit and cape thing!'
'Darth Vader didn't always wear the suit?'
'Oh yeah, back in the heyday, when I was just a clone trooper, he just wore tights.'
Sage old stormtrooper in the back adds on, 'I remember that now! He was a good looking chap too, you know, before the whole lava pit thing.'
A short silence falls over the crowd as they process this news. 'Holy Death Star,' someone finally says softly. 'Darth Vader is someones dad! Kinda makes me wish I hadn't given my old man such a hard time.'

A second silence falls over the crowd as they mull this over and then grudgingly agree. Life is pretty good as long as Darth Vader is not your dad.

Of course, the gossip wouldn't have long to spread before the Endor shield station gets blown up and then the entire Death Star gets vapourized, but STILL!! What a conversation to overhear!!

So there you have it. One of the greatest movie scenes we've never seen.

Scary Fridge Day

Ah! Scary Fridge Day! Scary Fridge Day is the day I decide to clean out the fridge, pitch what I can't identify, clean out the tupperware, and decide if I ever will use all those half full salad dressing containers. I would say it was the worst day of the week, but let's be honest, I don't clean my fridge out once a week, and I would say it's the worst day of the month, but I don't even do it that often (Sorry, Mum!!). Scary Fridge day is decided by how long it takes me to become fed up with pushing stuff around to make room for more diet pop, or until the smell becomes really noticeable. Whichever comes first. Why do I wait so long? Is it because I'm a procrastinator with a bad memory? Am I secretly hoping in vain someone else will do it? (Like who? Jenge?? She's as bad as me.) So, I just did a clean up of the fridge. Those of you who read Heidi's Blog know that recently she was ruminating about growing her own penicllin, in light of that fact here's a few tidbits for you Heidi!!
1. Mold does not grow on pineapple in tupperware, despite the fact that it has been in there for longer than I can remember. High acidity, I'm guessing??
2. Apparently, if you put enough garlic in garlic chicken and potatoes, it will not mold either, but it will come out of the container in one, perfect container shaped lump.
3. Ditto for stuff with cayenne pepper and red pepper flakes. That was my five alarm veggie chilli and it was so HOT even Portia wouldn't eat it. Guess the mold couldn't survive either, I know the roof of my mouth has never been the same. . .

And for the rest of you, some advice. . .
- If you don't know what it is/used to be, don't even open the tupperware. Leave in the fridge till garbage day and bid it a fond farewell
- If the dog won't even eat it, you definately can't!!
- However, keep the dog away, just in case. Portia once ate a straw, and that wasn't good for her. She'd prolly eat rotten veggies in a heartbeat. Except mushrooms, she just likes to roll on those. Go figure. . .
- How much salad dressing does one really need? Anything over three bottles and you're just showing off.
- Make sure you have a fresh lemon on hand. I garborated (sp??) lots of stuff and then found out I didn't have a lemon to fire down the garborator after it all. Jenge just got off the treadmill, came upstairs and was like, 'GAWD! What is that smell??!!??' I told her, 'Scary Fridge Day - nuff said.'

So, if you haven't taken a peek into the depths of your fridge in a while, go grab some gloves and go forth and be brave. And if you're sitting there thinking, "Yuck! I clean out my fridge weekly because I'm an adult!" Well, bully for you. Go drink some Ensure and leave the rest of us alone!!

Weighty matters. . . .

So I'm on the JC (Jenny Craig) and it's been going pretty well. I just had weigh in today and I'm doing well (down 9lbs so far). I've tried WW (Weight Watchers) before too and while it was a great program, I hate to cook and will avoid it at any cost. So, while on WW I generally had about 4 things I would be willing to make and then I would live off of that for months. But on JC I get lots of different stuff and I never have to worry about what I'm going to have for supper or lunch, someone already planned that for me. Which is fabulous, because generally I would skip lunch because it was too much of a hassle to think of something to bring.

I also need the weigh-ins to stay on track. Before, if I didn't have to weigh in I wouldn't think about what I was eating, no one was going to check up on me, after all, and the next thing you know, you're starting to wonder if the washing machine is doing something funky to your clothes, and making them all smaller! Oh the lies we tell ourselves! I must have put these jeans in the dryer, that's why they are so tight, this shirt must have shrunk which is why it doesn't cover my belly anymore. Keebler Elves have been secretly sneaking into my room at night and tailoring my clothes!!

So it's going pretty well. If you've ever struggled with your weight, you know how it seems to color every facet of your life. I sometimes still get worried going to the mall to buy runners because I worry that the people in the shoe store will think, "Why is that fat girl here buying running shoes, clearly, she doesn't work out!" Or you try on one pair of pants that doesn't fit and your entire day is RUINED!! So it's a work in progress.

Technically, now that I've lost the 9 lbs, I'm not even overweight anymore. I'm just in the range for a healthy BMI. But as I've always maintained, fat is a state of mind. And figuring out how to get your insides to match your outsides is WAY HARDER than figuring out what to eat and how much of it you need. The best advice I have is to ask a trusted friend or family member what they think about your weight. They will be honest and even though, sometimes, the truth hurts, they will be WAY more sensitive and kind about it than you WILL EVER BE to yourself. Because, let's face it, you say things to yourself that you WOULD NEVER say to someone you cared about.

So if you're feeling chumby (as my Aunt Doxa would say), cut yourself a little slack and then find a program that works for you. And I always remind myself that I didn't gain the weight fast (it sorta snuck up on me - Surprise!! There's five more pounds attached to my A##!) so it'll take some time to come off.

But meanwhile, I am changing my locks just in case the Keebler elves were tightening my clothes!! Damn Cookie Hobbits!!

Got Quirks??

Well, if you do, fess up! You're not alone! It's time to own up to the freakish things we do that we tell ourselves are normal. I, myself, have many. But I am WELL AWARE that they are oddities, that they are irrational, that they make no sense whatsoever to anyone but me. But what really gets my manicured nails a-typing is when someone else who, CLEARLY, has bizarre quirks of their own, calls my quirks dumb or stupid but COMPLETELY REFUSES to acknowledge that they have them too!! I know that I have kooky habits, but they are my habits and they make my little world happy so shut it! Don't sit there and tell me it's completely irrational that I don't let my toothbrush touch the counter and then turn around and check your cell phone six times in an hour 'just in case it rang and I didn't hear it.'

So what are some of my quirks and the rationalizations behind them? Here are some random ones. Take a look and then think about some of your own. . . . if. . . you. . . DARE!!!
1. The pillow I sleep on must not touch the floor. Rationale - floors are dirty and I have to put my face on that pillow.
2. A sponge must not be left touching the taps. Rationale - Sponges are microcosms of GERMS and I have to touch that tap!
3. No one but me may drink out of my coffee cup, water glass, soda can etc. Rationale - Hey, you get mononucleosis 4 times in one summer because this rule wasn't obeyed, and then we can talk rationalities.
4. Wash my hands when I get home from work. Rationale - the world is a dirty place, and I've been touching keyboards, mice, phones, and somebody else's documents all day long. God only knows what was on that stuff.
5. Coffee cures all your woes. Rationale - Coffee is warm, coffee is good. Coffee makes me happy, ergo, coffee is the solution to the universe's problems.
6. Don't put your finger in my pancake batter. Rationale - Do you mind? I don't even touch my own food with my hands until I've washed my hands thouroughly. Keep your mits off, D!
7. I don't eat chicken that looks like chicken. Rationale - I saw a chicken killed once in rural Greece. We had chicken that night. I'm scarred for life!!
8. I don't actually prepare chicken either. Rationale - I thought that if it didn't look like chicken I would be okay, but after 10 minutes of trying to Shake-n-Bake some chicken breasts I broke out in the shakes and a cold sweat. No joke.
9.My CD's and Books must be alphabetized. Rationale - How the hell do you expect to find something if it's not alphabetized??!!??
10.Before I go to bed, I must follow this specific routine - Turn on lamp, turn off light, sit on edge of bed, put on chapstick (we've already established I'm an addict), put on hand cream (left over from my Starbucks Barista days when my hands were so dry they would crack and bleed), take off glasses, turn off lamp, get into bed, fluff pillows on right, fluff pillows on left, lie on back for a couple of minutes, then left side, then right side, left side again, fall asleep. Including falling asleep time this all takes about an hour. Rationale - okay, I totally need the chapstick, who can think about sleeping when their lips are dry? Hand cream too, otherwise they get chapped as well. As for pillow fluffing and tossing and turning, it takes soooooooooooooooo looooooooooooong for the brain to shut off at night, that really, those are just the things I do to pass the time while my brain is spinning out a million thoughts a minute, like - how much money should I put on Visa this month? Is that the fan downstairs I hear? Did so-and-so get back to me at work about that report yet? Maybe I should just send another email . . . Did I wash my jeans for tomorrow or do I have to wear something else, you know it's a been a while since I wore a skirt, maybe I should wear a skirt, but I think it's calling for snow. I suppose it is possible that every snowflake is unique but really, since it can't be empirically proven, isn't it just a theory and not a fact? You're never going to be able to check ALL the snowflakes that fall. Unless there is a mathmatical formula for it that I don't know about. Like the one we had in PMAT for proving there is an infinite number of primes, I mean, that's why we use letters in place of numbers in proofs, because you want to prove that something is true for ALL NUMBERS, not just some, so you use a letter in place of a number. How did Fermat know that A to the Nth power plus B to the Nth power equals C to the Nth power is never true for any N bigger than 2? Or was he bluffing? Is that the fan I hear, oh wait, I already thought about that. Don't look at the clock, don't look at the clock, you don't want to know if you should be asleep by now. . . . .

And so on and so on.

So go ahead, admit your quirks, or are you, ahem, CHICKEN??!!??

Mouse-trap Mummy!

Ahhhhh, my dog Portia. She's super cute, always soft and warm, and sleeps curled up in a cute little ball. . .

She also is a counter-surfer. Our kitchen counter at home has an imaginary line I call the Portia-Line. Behind this line, your items are safe, on the wrong side of this line (The Portia Zone), kiss your stuff goodbye!!

After it became impossible to leave anything on the counter I had a serious discussion with my local vet (you can go to your local vet and get a behavioural consultation if you like). She told me to put a mouse trap on the counter.

I nodded politely and agreed that would most likely do the trick but in my head I thought "My Baby!! Snapped by a mouse trap!! I can't do it! She could get hurt!!"

So the counter surfing continued. And then I went to visit Larry at the The Pet Stop and he also told me to put mouse traps on the counter. He said that in 25 years of dog training he's never heard of a dog that actually got caught. They just get the fur scared right off them.

So I was ready to listen. The trick is to set it up when Portia is not around. That way when it goes off it has NOTHING to do with mummy, it's a horrendous consequence of counter surfing. So I bought some mousetraps at my local Home Depot and set one up on the counter (this was right after the incident where she ate an entire tub of margarine and sour cream!). I started making myself my peanut butter on english muffin and waited. Sure enough, Portia saddled up to the counter and tried to get the peanut butter knife I left in the Portia Zone. I heard a snap! A yip! and she skedaddled outta there like wildfire! And promptly hid behind the piano!

She hasn't been much of a counter surfer since.

But yesterday I came home and found my Scarlett Pimpernel VHS tapes DESTROYED (Yes Mark and Heidi, it's sad but TRUE). Little fiend has found a new hobby. This is right on the heels of her destroying several VHS tape cases. And this morning I came downstairs and found another tape ruined (completly. You can barely tell it used to be a VHS tape) So I got out my trusty mouse trap and set it up while she was outside frolicking in blissful ingnorance. I put it right on top of my copy of The Matrix Reloaded. I let the puppies in, grabbed a magazine and waitied.

10 minutes later . . . SNAP!! YIP!! She is currently hiding out under the covers in my bed. But I think my VHS tapes are safe!!

And before you go all PETA on me, I might remind you that I contacted my vet and a competent dog trainer for this advice and they both told me it is SAFE, that she WOULDN'T GET HURT, and was a HUMANE training option. It's the sound and the surprise that are the deterrent. If you think this could be an option for you, discuss it with your local vet. I also add that Portia is a large (50lb) dog, and her nose and paws are too big to get caught in the mouse trap. If you have a smaller dog I HIGHLY RECOMMEND you contact your vet first.

Ladies, we have a winner!

So those of you who know me, know I love my makeup! Donna can attest to my tackle box full of cosmetics kept close to me at all times. Although, those who see me on a regular basis may question my use of it (okay - so I don't look like a movie star despite my obscene amount of makeup. What can I say? I have alot, I just don't wear it all at the same time!)

But I digress . . .

For as long as I can remember, I have been searching for that perfect mascara. The one that lived up to all the advertising. I've tried TONS! I've spent anywhere from $30.00 a tube to bargain discounts. And yes, I've tried Maybelline Great Lash. I don' t care who else loves it, it wasn't for me.

But yesterday I found the one!! Almay Triple Effect mascara! I put it on today and right from the get go, I was happy. There was no gloopy 'plock' sound when I pulled the wand out of the tube and I didn't have to scrape off 90% of what was on the brush just so I could see the bristles. It has a cute little brush with one short side and one long side. It went on like a dream and only had very minimal smudging as the day went on, which for me, was a miracle! Usually, no matter how much the product says it won't smudge, I look like a psychotic racoon by the end of the day. I've tried waterproof, smudgeproof, really expensive department store makeup, and they all smudged more than this. When you feel my lashes you can tell I'm wearing mascara, but it didn't pull off. And I didn't get big hunks of glop on my lashes that I then had to fix with a Q-tip.

This one's a keeper!!

My Desert Island List:
1. Almay Triple Effect Mascara
2. Lise Watier Foundation (another drugstore find!!)
3. LipSmackers - I'm an addict! and I'm turning everyone I know into one too (That's for you, Donna!) Available in tons of flaves. Currently in my pocket: Berries and Cream
4. Mac Eyeshadow
5. Burberry London Perfume
6. Bean Stock Soap

Snorefest 2006

So I generally stay away from award shows as a rule. BORING. But I decided to give the Oscars a try again last night.

That's an entire evening of my life I'm never getting back.

Other than the fashion, who cares? It's pretty much a given if you made a "raw" or "gritty" movie based on a real life character that you will take home an Oscar. Similarly, if you made a "racially charged", "complex", or "gut wrenching" movie. Here is your no fail Oscar formula:

You're a stunningly beautiful woman who hags it up in a 'gripping' social drama
You're a stunning beautiful woman who dolls it up in a biography
You're a clearly heterosexual man who plays a gay man
You're an unattractive man playing a haunted man with deep demons
You affect a killer accent
You play a quirky character with many ticks
You make the most boring thinky thinky movie alive with an all star cast.

So Phillip Seymour Hoffman played a guy with a weird voice and a bad haircut. Elijah Wood made me BELIEVE he was a three foot hobbit named Frodo!!
So Southern Belle Reese Witherspoone played Southern Belle June Carter Cash. Have you seen Parker Posey in 'House of Yes'?

It's all about whether or not 'The Academy' (insert deep radio annoucer voice here) thinks you're movie 'has a message'. Not about whether or not it's entertaining. Or a rocking good time.

So for now, I will stick to that other movie award show, The MTV Movie Awarads. You know, the one that's actually fun to watch? It has WAY better categories! Like Best Kiss, Best Action Scene, Best Fight, Best On Screen Duo! Stuff that the public obviously cares about (as you can tell from box office receipts). And not stuff that NO ONE has seen other than some old guys in the back of the Kodak Theater.

It's a rich man's world!

Do you lie awake at night thinking about money? Do you wait for your next paycheque only to get it, cash it and then start thinking about the next one? Don't get me wrong, I'm not hard up for cash, my credit cards aren't maxed out and I do actually contribute regularly to my RRSP. But when it's late at night and dark outside, I've got money on the brain.

Like I said, I'm not broke. But I'm always thinky-thinky about the $$ factor. Mostly because I want to buy buy buy! But I don't let let let myself. So what's on the Wish list, you ask? Totally non-essential items that I don't need but none the less dream about!!

1. A 12*12 linen album for my scrapbooking (actually - I'll need a few now)
2. Griffin iTrip Auto FM Transmitter and Auto Charger for iPod
3. New lipgloss (I'm SUCH an addict!) - but in my defense I recently finished three of my faves.
4. New perfume - I've already got it picked out too.
5. Shoes - sigh, shoes. I dream of pretty shoes with bows and sparkles on them.
6. Socks - where do they go? Why is it you put an even number of socks in the washer but get an odd number out. They tell you about the boogey man when you are a child, but NO ONE tells you about the Sock Eating monster. And it's a lot scarier than the boogeyman!
7. A new winter jacket - The zipper is trashed on both of my coats, and I took the buttons of my long coat years (!) ago to replace them. I'm getting around to it, really. I'm wearing Jengie's coat right now.
8. A new purse. Yes, I know, I have many, but I am bored with them and want a new one. Plus I spilled something on my current one. I'm not sure what it was. Looks like it was prolly coffee.
9. Music - I'm always trolling iTunes or HMV for something to catch my fancy.


So that's the short version. But I've already committed my next paycheque to paying down Mastercard (why do those evil minions keep raising my limit? Bad Mastercard, Bad!). Sniff. So no shopping sprees for Gita in the near future.


Okay - maybe just one new lipgloss. C'mon, they are totally cheap!!

Celebrity or High Profile Whack-job??

I just found out that Matthew McConaughey doesn't wear deodorant. WTF? I already knew that Tom Cruise was certifiably nutty (honestly - he was SOOOOOO much better when he kept his mouth shut). Mariah Carey has a bi-annual breakdown, Lindsy Lohan has one weekly, and Paris Hilton is famous for. . . what a minute, what exaclty is Paris Hilton famous for?

In light of all this I'm forced to ask myself, what comes first? Are you an A-1 class nutcase who dreams of acting and having alot of money, or do you start of relatively normal with borderline psychotic problems (like the rest of us) and then you get drunk with the power!! The fame!! The money!! The fact that no one tells you no!!

Seriously, don't these people have family or a best friend to pull them aside and slap them across the face and tell them to snap out of it? If I ever started acting kooky (okay - more kooky, I'm pretty squirelly as it is, hence the name of my blog) my best friend would sit me down, tilt her head sympathetically, look me straight in the eyes and tell me "Margarita, you're fraking crazy! Wake up and smell the medication cart!!"

And if I didn't listen to her, she would lock me in my house until I agreed to get serious help. But these celebrites!! I don't get it! If this were the REAL WORLD you would be fired, you would find it impossible to get a good job with your tendanceis to throw Diva Hissy fits and scream at the top of your lungs that you are just suffering from exhaustion. Normal people don't get hospitalized for exhaustion. We wake up the next day and go to work no matter how exhausted we are because the alternative is stay in bed, piss and moan about it and then default on our mortgages. Not pleasant. And what are celebrites exhausted from?? Sounds like a cake walk to me. Do a little schmoozing, show up at some parties, someone does your hair for you, shops for you cooks for you, dresses you, it's like being 5 yrs old all over again only you have GADS of money!! The rest of us are working our *&&@# off trying to stay ahead of the tax man and Visa and make sure there is enough kibble in the pantry to feed the dog. Exhaustion!! I scoff at thee!! I have no time to be tired, no time to be sick! I say we fire all our current celebrities (keeping a select few because frankly they are too good looking to sack) and get new celebrities. I'll hold auditions for new celebrities and the only requirement is you have to pass a psych exam. The following will not be accepted:

• Narcissism
• Pessimism
• Martyrdom
• Egocentrics
• Religious Cult Leaders
• Delusions of Grandeur
• Paranoia
• Crack addicts
• Mean people

Good idea, no?

It's just a number!

So I keep telling myself. I turned the big 3-oh this year and felt the need to panic. I tried to do a reflection on my entire life to see where it's been, where it's going but then I had to finish my laundry and run the dishwasher. Do you ever feel like your life is getting in the way of life? And while we're on the subject of numbers, let's do a little math . . . .

Hours of sleep required a night by me - 8 (I know there are people who can get by on less but I'm not one of them - so shut it)
Hours spent commuting per day - 1.75
Hours spent a work - 7.5
Hours spent actually working - 0 (Kidding!! I work my #$% off!)
Hours spent in the shower, dressing and doing my hair and makeup - 0.5 (True story!!)
Hours spent making/drinking coffee - 0.5
Hours spent in bed cursing the alarm and pretending I don't hear dog whining - 0.75
Hours spent eating - 0.5 (Seriously, I eat as fast as I can so I can either get to work, get back to work or drink more coffee)

So that leaves 4.5 hrs a day (theoretically) to do everything else. Which seems like it should be enough but lately. . . sigh.

So back to turning 30, why do I compare myself to everyone else my age and feel like the imaginary stick is coming up short? I have a job, I pay my taxes, shovel my driveway. So why do I feel behind? Unlike the communists, I do not have a 5 year plan. I'm lucky if I can find two matching socks in the morning. What's with all the uber-young people achieving their entire life by 20 these days?? Everytime I turn around some young upstart has turned him/herself into a millionaire or invented the next huge dotcom or saved the world. Where's it gonna end? Are you washed up if you haven't split the atom with your bare hands by the time your 24? Who knows? All I know is I gotta do laundry right now if I want two socks that match tomorrow.

Think you know what crazy looks like?

Crazy is a 50lb dog that wants to love you to death!

A dog that only gets 5 minutes with her favourite toy because she rips it to shreds and leaves stuffed carnage everywhere. A puppy whose favourite thing to do is spread herself across your bed and fall asleep, and then has the nerve to growl at you when you try to move her. She'll take a grilled cheese sandwhich right out of your hands, eat your socks, dvd remote, maybe even a book or two. But when she's a sleepy puppy and drowsily rests her head on your lap, you wouldn't have it any other way!

Scrapbooking is my new obsession!
If you know me you know I can't just start a new hobby, I must become obsessed by it! So about a year ago I started scrapping. What's just as interesting as the number of people who share my obesssion is the number of people who are lining up waiting to trash it! They poke fun, they make jokes and give me rolled eyes and long sighs. But why do they care enough to even diss it? I'm all for 'Hey - if it makes you happy, go forth young grasshopper!' So if you're not a scrapper - fine by me. But don't ask me how much I spent on supplies just so you can snort in disgust.