Squirrelly Girly

Um, No. I just like to eat

2009-04-25T21:11:00.001-07:00

You know, I've battled my weight for as long as I can remember. My first memory knowing I was chumby, hmmm....I think I was about 8 years old and I realized I was 20 lbs heavier than my classmates. Today, this is not a lot, as A LOT of kids are overweight [and that's a WHOLE other post] but back then I was the only girl in my class who was overweight. I remember what it felt like and I didn't like it.

Flash forward 25 years and I'm still struggling with that extra 20-40 lbs. I go up, I go down. I've tried a lot of different things. Never diet pills. Always something like Weight watchers or Jenny Craig. Working out more, watching what I eat. that sort of thing.

I read a lot of people's stories on the internet and in print about their issues with food. I'm FASCINATED by anyone's struggle with the bulge, and I voraciously read blog posts, articles, and the like. In these articles, someone is always coming to the realization that they have used food as a filler. Something to stuff down their emotions, or fill an emotional void. Often you hear them say "Food was my best friend." "Food comforted me." "I used food to salve the pain."

I've thought long and hard about this and my 'realization' is: I just like to eat.

Plain and simple. If something tastes good, I want more. If something tastes like crap, I don't want it at all. and High calorie, fat laden food tends to taste really really good and ergo, I like it. I like it a lot. I like the way yummy food tastes. and I'm like a 6 year old when it comes to decisions about my food. Ice cream for breakfast? You bet! Birthday cake when it's no one's birthday? why not? peanut butter as a food group? sure thing.

Trust me, I've been in therapy. I KNOW what my issues are, but using food as a filler for some void deep in my psyche is not one of them. I don't eat to numb pain. I don't eat less when I'm stressed. I don't ever lose my appetite from my feelings. I do reward myself with food [do well on an exam, do a good job at work = CRAVE CUPCAKES!] but I don't see this as any sort of emotional eating, but rather a cheap, inexpensive reward. People always say, don't use food as a reward. Why the hell not? It's cheap, it's readily available. and like I said, it tastes good.
I don't think of food as my best friend, I don't think of food as "there for me." And I don't think that people who feel that way are wrong. I'm just saying that personally, I don't have those issues. I like food. I like yummy food. I like sweet and salty and sour and crunchy and smooth and tasty.

Maybe someday I will wake and realize that I'm just deluding myself and I really do have deep-seeded issues about food. But then I'd prolly just roll over and get a cinnamon bun.

Yeah, I know

2009-04-23T19:50:00.000-07:00

So I know I’ve been gone for a while. Why is it when you work out for three days in a row, it feels really long, but when you fall off the wagon for a while on something, it seems really short? I coulda SWORN I just blogged yesterday. And now it’s been almost a three weeks and I’ve got nothing to say.

Like most peeps, I’m crazy busy right now. I have my Real Job, and then in my spare time [snort!] I decided I wanted to learn how to do artificial nails. So I signed up for a course and that’s where I was all last weekend. I do have pics of my very first nail [done on mum's pinky finger] but it’s on my crackberry which is allthewayacrosstheroomandI’mtoolazytogetit.

Today I did Jessi’s nails at work, no tips, just a color overlay. I was exhausted at the end! It’s a new task for me so I’ve got to concentrate super hard. Not that I’m not concentrating at my Real Job, it’s just that at Real Job, my hands and brain know what to do in tandem to get the work done, and with the nail thing, hands and brain have not yet worked out an agreement on who is in charge. Brain says do x y and z. Hands say “um, I don’t bend that way.”

Jessi has graciously agreed to be my guinea pig, so whenever I get some new stuff in, she’s getting it slapped on her nails. Today we did Midnight Velvet, a darkly veiled plum. The color is nice but it was a bee-yotch to apply as it took FIVE COATS to get a consistent color.

I’ve not done any writing on The Book, but I have been thinking about it. Which I guess is like when I was 7 and I wouldn’t practice the piano, I would just think about it and then lesson night would roll around and I would be so nervous on the way to class that my hands would get all splotchy and would almost break out in hives.

And I’m still going to bootcamp 3 times a week and Michelle is kicking our butts. HARD. She’s busted out all the good ones: Hills, Stairs, Gauntlet. oh, my legs hurt just thinking about it.

And I’ve started seeing a nutritionist. I’ve really never eaten this well in my whole life. On Sunday, I had Wendy’s and I actually didn’t feel good afterward. That has NEVER happend to me before. Ever. In the history of my fast-food lovin life. And I’ve lost 7 pounds and 2 inches off my hips, one of my waist. So snaps to me.

And I think that’s about it!

So funny, I snorted!

2009-04-06T20:31:00.000-07:00

Seriously, you have GOT to read this article:
6 Writers Who Accidentally Crapped Out Masterpieces
By Shaun Grey

The best was, of course, number one - SHAKESPEAR:
Here's some snippets:

Figuratively speaking, his works define the English language. And by "figuratively," we of course mean "literally." The motherfucker made up half of the dictionary off the top of his damn head. If you've ever said that something was a "sorry sight," or that "what's done is done," not only are you an unimaginative hack, but you owe Shakespeare $10.

And as far as inventing half the English language goes, you've got to bear in mind that although Shakespeare was able to solicit some pretty sweet patronages from the nobility (once again, phat cash), the majority of his audience consisted of the filthy, unwashed peasants that packed the pit in front of the stage (theater-goers in Elizabethan England were in the unique position of being able to both see a Shakespeare performance and stand next to a donkey for three hours).

Go read it all, I guarantee, you'll like it.

Bootcamp update

2009-04-05T19:21:00.001-07:00

I’m trying my hardest to try my hardest at bootcamp. That means is that I’m generally thisclose to coughing up a lung. Wednesday, Michelle busted out the Gauntlet. This involves sprinting back and forth from pylons strategically placed and doing strength exercises in between. Did I mention the sprint exercises are also called “suicides?” Yeah. You get the idea.

Friday was circuit training, which was definately do-able, but it’s up to you how hard you work.

The thing with bootcamp is you’re ALWAYS uncomfortable. You’re not quite at the “I’m gonna puke” stage, but you’re real close.Which makes people wonder, why do I recommend bootcamp so strongly?

You see results. Results like you’ve never seen before. I mean, when was the last time you pushed yourself so hard you thought you would toss cookies? [mmm cookies FOCUS].

So even though there are times when I find myself gasping for breath, looking up a set of stairs and wondering how I’m gonna do it, I still recommend it.

Will the PVR Change my Life?

2009-04-02T13:53:00.001-07:00

It's been promised by everyone that owns a PVR that, yes, the PVR WILL CHANGE YOUR LIFE!! Even Donna, who hardly watched any tv, got a pvr and said it revolutioned her evenings! I've long been a champion of one, telling people to get one even though I myself did not have one. And I've wanted one for AGES.

So. Now. Here we are. I've got the PVR, I'm simply waiting for Shaw to call me back to activate it. [I even hooked it up self!]. Thursday is a show heavy day in our household. Jenge has Ugly Betty and Grey's Anatomy. I have Bones and Supernatural. So it's high demand time and we'll be putting the PVR through it's paces!

y'know, as soon as the cable company calls me back. Any time now. Like now.... or maybe now. I'm sure they will call me back any second. They assured me my call was VERY IMPORTANT to them.

Buckets of Crazy

2009-04-01T06:57:00.001-07:00

Oh. My. God. It’s buckets of crazy here. Portia has decided she cannot stand downstairs. Downstairs is EVIL and BAD THINGS happen. and she MUST be upstairs. Even if she has no where to go but the hallway. The problem is, we put a baby gate up for Lola, so that she can’t go upstairs unattended [as she is still working on her housebreaking]. Portia finds this unacceptable and will paw at the baby gate. And eye the slats in the staircase, as if pondering if she will fit [she won't. She's a 60 pound malamute and the slats are 4 inches wide]. And then Portia starts to press her paw against the baby gate, testing how tightly we’ve put it in. This makes Rocky crazy and he’s taken to jumping up on my lap and trying to press himself into me. The worst was this morning when Portia was going through her routine when Rocky jumped up, TURNED HIS BACK TO HER and pressed against me. As if to say I CAN’T EVEN LOOK AT HER WHILE SHE DOES THAT. All the while, Lola is rolling around on the ground, chewing a running shoe. Until she decides that she wants to be in my lap as well.Buckets of crazy. We’re all stocked up here.

Oh, Portia!

2009-03-25T20:12:00.002-07:00

Portia. She just can't help herself. I always tell her she's lucky she's so good looking because she's bad. Super bad. Bad squared.
Yesterday she counter surfed and got grapes and whole wheat wraps. Jenge and I thought nothing of it, but then this morning, here's what happened.

[scene- Gita's bedroom. It's dark. Early morning. Before 6. Lola is already harumphing and sighing in her crate. Gita rolls over]
Gita: Quiet. It's bedtime.
[this does not deter the puppy who harumphs and baby-growls]
Gita: Lola! Quiet!
[down the hall, there is a thump. A bump. Mummy Jennifer has awoken. Gita listens. Perhaps she will come get Lola and Gita can pretend to still be asleep. Then, a door flies open! The hall light flares to life!]
Jenge: That's it! Portia! No more sleeping in my room! EVER!
[Dogs come flying out of Jenge's room. Jenge comes and gets Lola, Gita sits up]
Gita: what happened?
Jenge: She puked. and not just a little, a lot. Right on my bedskirt.
Gita [thinking that she should get up]: Oh.......
[Jenge storms downstairs, tosses the girls out to potty, dispenses food. Gita comes downstairs. Portia is not eating! Jenge and Gita stare at her]
J: I don't feel bad for her. I don't. She did it to herself. Yeah, I bet you feel sick Portia.
[Portia picks at her food and forces it down. She drinks two bowls of water until Gita steps in]
G: Too much water, Portia.
[Portia looks up, guiltily]

[Flash forward to early morning, Gita and Jenge on phone]
J: so it turns out, grapes are toxic to dogs.
G: oh, great.
J: I called the vet, and I'm gonna go home at lunch and check in on her.
G: Call me if she is sick, I can come home from work.
J: Kay.

[afterschool, on the phone]
J: so the vet said she'd probably be fine, but the house smells funny. I can take her in. They have an opening at 6.
G: Oh, Portia.
J: I guess that grapes can cause renal failure in dogs. how much would you say we had?
G: I dunno. 1, maybe 2 pounds?
J: 2 pounds is the toxic amount for portia's weight class.
G: Maybe I should come home.
J: Go to bootcamp, I'll take her to the vet and let you know.

[after bootcamp, on the phone]
J: So she's dehydrated, and they wanted to admit her but I said no. We're waiting for blood work.
G: How's she look?
J: I mean, she looks okay, but she's depressed.
G: She's been depressed for a while.
J: Yeah, I'll call you back.

[later, Jenge comes home with Portia]
J: so they watned to keep her over night, but that's 500 bux a night. I said, listen, you don't know how much this dog has eaten. You don't know what we've pulled out of poop and 99 times out of 100, she's fine. We've had moles checked for cancer on her face, we've had an entire work up done on her bladder. We've gone for tests, etc. And she's always fine. I'll take her home.
G: I agree, I'm pretty sure she'll be okay.
J: Her kidneys looked good, although her liver had some high numbers. [shrug] we'll see.
[they both eye Portia who clearly does not want to talk about her trip to the vet
J: I mean, she was so nervous at the vet, I couldn't leave her there.
G: No, you did the right thing.
[Portia jumps up on counter. Jenge and Gita stare at each other incredulously]
J and G: She's fine!

Dog Update

2009-03-21T15:32:00.003-07:00

The big dogs got their groomies on today. Rocky looks particularly dashing. I swear, it looks like they flat ironed his hair. He looks sharp.

Portia is mad and has been standoff-ish since her return. The groomer said Portia had so much hair that the groomer had to put a mask on. On the groomer herself, not on Portiacakes.

Lola has discovered there is a WHOLE WORLD beyond the patio. She took her first journey down the patio steps today and into the yard. she was VERY upset when the big dogs left for their hair appointments and actually screamed and cried. And then she realized that she still had a lap to sit in and she was okay. She is currently going puppy crazy with Jennifer.

Tonight Jenge and I go out to see Deborah DiGiovani at the Laugh Shop. I'm really looking forward to it!

So what?

2009-03-15T21:04:00.003-07:00

I love to shop. So what? So sue me! [Actually, that would cut into my shopping money, so forget I said anything].

I would have no problem spending money if I won the lottery. Here's what's currently on the lottery list.

1. The new ipod shuffle SO CUTE
2. Sony e-Reader
3. iPod alarm clock for my room.
4. New running shoes. I love new shoe smell!
5. Thermal vest - for bootcamp
6. Puma shoes for every day of the week. No seriously, I saw a whole wall today and I liked at least 7 of them.
7. PVR
8. Hello Kitty Diamond watch. Sigh. So cute.

Remembering Carmie

2009-03-08T19:24:00.002-07:00

Uncle Carmie died the same year as my dad. Carmie died in June, after Mary in May, but before Dad, in August. And sometimes I feel like Carmie's death was eclipsed by Dad's. Carmie lived in Cape Breton, and the photo above is a picture of his bungalow. I remember trips there as a kid, and we would go swimming in the lake. I was terrified of Jelly Fish. There are train tracks close by and we would put pennies on them and then hunt them down after the train had squished them.

The last time I went there, before I went for the funeral in 2006, I was 13. And surly. And in a bad mood. All summer. I was away from my friends for the summer, and not happy about it. I would glower at people when they tried to be nice to me. And Carmie would try hard not to laugh and say "Ah, the look." And I was mad, so mad that he wasn't affected by my obviously surly gaze! In fact, he seemed to find it really funny!

Looking back now, I laugh at my younger self. And I think that I'm pretty lucky my Uncle was amused by it instead of being hurt, or annoyed.

Mum and I had been planning a trip to Cape Breton for the fall of 2006. I was finally going to see the fall colors of east. And then Carmie died, so we went in June. And I was really, really mad at myself for not having gone back sooner. A classic case of waiting too long, thinking you have more time, etc etc. You know? I was really sad I didn't get to see Carmie. Sit on his enclosed porch and just hang out.

The Book and Writing

2009-02-28T18:34:00.002-07:00

For years, I have been working on The Book. The Book has no title - at least, not one I want to share. And that's the problem with my writing. I don't like to share it. I like to hoard it. It takes me a LONG LONG time to be comfortable enough to share my writing. Donna had to wait YEARS before I showed her anything and Ashleigh only got to read stuff because she was coughing up her own writing. And every time I would exchange stuff with Ash, I would nervously check my inbox for feedback.

I've been writing short stories, novels, extended plots, soap operas etc since I was 17. I used to write what I wanted when I wanted how I wanted. And somewhere, sometime I got caught up in GETTING PUBLISHED. and suddenly writing wasn't fun anymore. It was stressful, and a chore, and it was painful, and I watched the clock while I did it and every word that got typed got scrutinized painfully. And counted. Would a publisher like this? what would a reader say/think? who would my readers be? Was it childish? Cliched? Was I following the 'rules' I'd learned in Grade 7 - Introduction, Rising Action, Climax, Denouement. Was there enough character growth? Too much? would people care about my characters? Too much dialogue?

Ashleigh and I set deadlines for ourselves, for each other, made promises to deliver pages, paragraphs - on time [and under budget!].

And it was HORRIBLE. I had never disliked writing before. I had never dreaded it. I used to sit in my bedroom on the floor with a pitcher of koolaid and a fine selection of CDs/cassette tapes and just have at 'er with my Special Pens and my Special Notebooks.

I had to think long and hard about what I was doing and why. and I decided to Frak it. Did I care about getting published? Sure I did, but not as much as i wanted to get the 'happy' that had been SUCKED out of my writing hobby.

So, I've dropped The Book. At least Book 1. There was too much emotional baggage wrapped up in it. And now I write what I want when I want and how I want. and the Happy is still there! It was waiting for me to get my head out of my ass!

I still consider myself a writer. Even if I never get published, even if I never even try to get published. I like my stuff. I never think, Jeez, I wish that hadn't have happened, or why did so and so go do THAT, - the way I do when I read books. Because when I write, I am god. Stuff only happens because I want it to happen and people only do stuff because of reasons I've given them. It's narcissistic and self-centered and MINE ALL MINE.

And you'll probably never get to read it. And I'm okay with that.

BFF

2009-02-24T10:46:00.004-07:00

Portia and Lola are Besties [that's Best Friends or BFF for all the lingo-less]. Lola sticks her ENTIRE head inside Portia's mouth when they are playing. Portia lets Lola nibble on her ears. Portia shows remarkable patience when the puppy is pawing her. And Lola loves her some Portiacakes. Now if only Rocky wouldn't LOSE HIS MIND and bark non-stop when they played.

Bootcamp Lowdown

2009-02-21T13:24:00.003-07:00

So, as mentioned in the previous post, I am back at Bootcamp. Tuesday was my first day back and we did our usually fitness test.
1. How fast can you run a 1km?
2 How many pushups on your toes and/or your knees can you do in 1 minute?
3. How many crunches can you do in one minute?
4. How long can you hold "The Plank" [plank of death!]
5. How long can you hold "The Squat"

While my results were not as good as my last round of bootcamp, they weren't as bad as my very first fitness test, indicating that while I've lot a lot of what I gained, I'm not back at square 1. Whoot whoot.

Although..... after the fitness test we started working out and by Wednesday morning, my legs were so sore I was afraid I wouldn't be able to sit down on a toilet and get back up. Seems my legs had forgotten all about bootcamp. one of my fellow bootcampers [who is also back after a slight sojourn] noted that she thought she would need help getting her bra off after our pushup work out.

I was telling Michelle that her getting me fit has produced some kind of weird Trickle Down Regan-omics effect. Donna and I now go roller skating and for walks. And I've recently introduced the Thursday Nooner at work, where we go for a walk/jog/stumble around the neighboorhood. And while I still believe the over physically fit are peppering the world with LIES ["I just can't function if I don't get my 32 km run in!"] I have become a tentative believer in some of the propoganda. I find my body really doesn't hurt as much when I'm working out regularly.

Back at Bootcamp and training for my next 5km!

Back to Bootcamp

2009-02-16T19:44:00.002-07:00

Well, in December, I had to end my last bootcamp a week early, due to a business trip to San Francisco. and then my bootcamp instructor, the Awesome Michelle, went to go climb a mountain. No really. She's that fit. And so I was going to STAY FIT on my own. and sign up for bootcamp the first chance I had in January.

Only then I didn't. And I've been on a non stop feeding frenzy since Christmas. Like a "It's the end of the world as we know it" frenzy. It's been croissants for breakfast and cookies for lunch and cupcakes for dessert.

And I'm not one of those people who get physically sick from eating bad. Just emotionally sick. as in, WTF am I DOING?? WHY am I doing this? Don't I have any self control? Oh, is that a left over croissant there, hang on.....

So, I signed up for Bootcamp again and tomorrow is day one. I'm only going twice a week this time, because it's FRAKING FEBRUARY and cold, but I AM going.

Jessi and I have already signed up for a 5k in March, and I'm going to run it. So, it's back to Bootcamp for me!

A Post by Lola

2009-02-11T19:07:00.003-07:00

Hi! I'm still new to this all and trying to figure some stuff out, but here's how I think it goes.
1. Portia will play with you until Portia is done. And then she will growl. If you don't back off immediately and show her your belly, she will lay on the smack down.
2. There is no telling when Portia will be done playing. Sometimes it's five minutes, sometimes it's 10 seconds.
3. If you walk away from your food bowl more than 5 times during breakfast or dinner, it gets taken away.
4. The best place to potty is the piano room. Paws down. although you get yelled at for it.
5. It is possible to jump off the bed when you get left there, but you have to really really really want it.
6. Mummy does not want to talk to you while she is in the shower.
7. The best water is in Rocky's bowl, and no one drinks water from anywhere else.
8. I love Rocky. I'm sure he's just playing hard to get.
9. Going down stairs is WAY HARDER than going up stairs, so it's best to cry until Mummy feels sorry for you and carries you down.
10. You always get a treat when you go into the crate.

Grocery Store Chit Chat

2009-01-30T17:42:00.003-07:00

Don't you find grocery shopping weird? you put the goods in the cart, to take them out of the cart, have them scanned and then put them in bags and BACK in the cart to take them OUT of the cart again and into your trunk. Can't there be some way of scanning the groceries as they go INTO the cart and you bag them at the same time? then you could keep a running total of your purchase and put stuff back [by Minus Scanning it] if you were over. Alternatively, you could stock up if you were under.

And why do people need help getting to the car? you managed to shlepp those same groceries all through the store, and to the till but suddenly now you can't push the cart [parents with small children are excluded from this rant]

But parents with small children you are not excluded from the next rant - control your kids. They do not need miniature shopping carts. They do not need to 'help' so they won't act out. I neither helped my mother with the groceries nor did I have a small cart of my own to push, and I don't recall ever EVER screaming like a banshee or crying hysterically in the grocery store or GOD HELP ME when we got home. [except for that time mum says I tried to filch a candy bar, but I was like 4 years old] [also mum, if I WAS a bad-ass in the supermarket, now is NOT the time to post it on my blog] [also, I'm not sure what would have happened if I had been bad. I was too afraid to find out. The not knowing was a terrific motivator].

Every deli needs a number system. or else we're all standing around trying to figure out who is next.

I don't need that many mustards to choose from. Thanks.

I don't want to sample anything at the grocery store. Having worked at a grocery store as a cashier many moons ago, they are dirty and most stuff is getting touched by people. Except for the deli were stuff is behind glass. Plus, I did'nt go to the store to eat, I came to shop. Eating comes later when I get home.

Just because you see chips and cookies and pop and pastries in my cart, don't you judge me! Sniff.

This, That, and the Other

2009-01-25T19:26:00.003-07:00

Random things on my mind.....
1. My commute is killing me. Sometimes I'm not even sure how I got to work.
2. Why is the new puppy, Lola, stinky? My other dogs don't smell.
3. What if my other dogs do smell but I am immune to it now?
4. What if I smell like dogs?
5. Where does the money go?
6. I really should put away my laundry instead of living out of the laundry basket.
7. I don't know why it took me so long to move that shelf in the fridge. TONS more space now!
8. I really like it when my toes are professionally polished and should have it done more often.
9. 7.30 on Sunday night feels a lot later than 7.30 on a weeknight.
10. Need to prep coffee pot for tomorrow morning.

I have a degree, you know

2009-01-15T21:27:00.003-07:00

And my degree is not in basket weaving or acrylic paints. It's in something smarty mcsmarty pants - Math. So I'm not a slouch in the brains department. So WHY is it so hard to change my headlights?

I went out into the garage at 5 o'clock. I had 2 burned out headlights and one burned out signal light. [oh shut up, like you're so perfect. So the left headlight has been dodgy for WEEKS but I thought it was part of my overall electrical problem. and when the left turn signal went, I thought, well hell, the lights on the left side of the car have always been dodgy and did I really need that turn signal? I would get around to it. But then my right headlight went. And I live in Calgary and it gets dark at, like, 4:30, so unless I wanted to leave for work at 9 and then leave for home at 3, I had to change them.]

I had to come back inside to get my socket wrench set. yes, I have one and it's beautiful. I inherited it from Dad. Actually, I inherited all my tools except for my new screwdriver, which is also beautiful. My socket set has all the socket sizes you will ever need. Two wrenches and adapters. but it's not organized because I got it from Dad. And he was not the most organized with his tools. I also got two tool boxes from him and I keep meaning to get around to organizing them, but I guess I inherited more from him than just his nose.

So, long story longer, AN HOUR LATER I've finally changed the headlights. I had to remove 4 bolts from each side, and then turn the light "one sixth of a turn counter clockwise." No Joke. one sixth. and then I had to shimmy it and jiggle it until the light sprung free and then PRY it off the clip and then jam the new one on and my hands aren't strong enough to snap it into place so I had to put gloves on so I could brace the lamp against the car and push down really hard.

I also need to replace the windsheild wipers but I've saving that until I get all the car grease out from underneath my gel nails.

And my story doesn't even compare to the time my bro in law came over to help Jenge change her headlamp. I told Jenge she could do it, but little did I know that her cars design requires you to REMOVE PART OF THE ENGINE to get to the headlight. Luckily my bro in law has the tools and the knowledge to do this, but the simple act of changing a headlight took him 3 hours and left a scar on his hand.

My million dollar idea is to put the headlights in an assembly that doesn't bolt shut. It locks. And it takes the SAME key that starts your engine. So when you need to change any of your lights, you simply pop your hood, or trunk, turn your car key in the assembly and it pops open and then you pull the burned out bulb out [which has turned black so you know it's for sure burned out and not just loose] and you snap the new one back in and then hit the handy "Test" button that the manufacturers have also installed so you don't have to jam the light in, hope it's attached, jog to the driver door get in and start the car to see if your new lights work.

Next car repair, the aforementioned windsheild wipers. I can't see out the passenger side, which really doesn't bother me all that much. but now, I can barely see out the drivers side. I'll keep you posted.

Scraptasticka!

2009-01-12T17:59:00.004-07:00

Hey all!
Just thought I'd let you know about an even that my sister Ann is putting on and that I am attending.

It's the MARCH MADNESS CROP taking place in Calgary. Click on the link for full deets. Here's the shorthand:

March 7th 2009 10am - 10pm

Canyon Meadows
Community Center
848 Cantabrian Drive SW, Calgary, AB

EMAIL March Madness Crop

And, as is so important to let most scrappers know, there will be FOOD. And FREE STUFF.

I'll leave a link on the side in case you are interested but can't commit just yet.

2009-01-10T16:24:00.003-07:00

Hi!

Hi there! I'm new! I'm pretty sure my name is either Lola, or Lola-Leave-It! It's hard to tell cuz I hear both of them a lot. My name might also be GO POTTY as I hear that A LOT too but I only hear that when I get turfed outside. and it doesn't matter how much you cry or how much you shiver, you have to potty outside. I'm pretty good at it so far and have only had a few accidents. I'm not sure what that means but that's what my new mums, Mummy Jennifer and Mummy Margarita, have said.

I like Portia. I love Rocky. But both of them get up and leave when I get close. I dont' know why. I just want to be friends. Everyone is super friendly at dinner time though. Both mummies stand around me while I eat and Portia and Rocky get super close to me then. I don't know why, but the Mummies always chase them away! I would share my food if they asked! Sometimes when I see Portia, I just roll onto my back and show her my belly. It's a pretty nice belly!

i like to sleep. but I do'nt like to be alone. I'm always looking for a lap to crawl into. Today, Mummy Jennifer put me in my crate when she went out and Mummy Margarita had gone upstairs for a nap. I CRIED AND CRIED AND CRIED. Why would I want to be alone when I KNOW there is a human around? and Rocky and Portia don't even care when I cry! they just keep sleeping. I do'nt know how they can sleep through all the noise. Mummy Margarita said it's enough to "wake the dead." Well, I had to make sure she heard me! I'm so little! and lonely! and I really, really, really needed a lap to sleep in.

So it's pretty good here so far! I've gone on some walks but it gets really cold outside and my belly drags on the snow. Mummy says I'm Low To the Ground. I have some sweaters but I really need a belly cosy. My mum said she'd make one for me.

Gotta go! I see a lap I can nap on!

2009-01-09T08:09:00.002-07:00

Mathematical Proof to shop

Let E>0.

Shopping = Makes me happy.

Being out of Debt = Makes me happy.

Therefore: Shopping = Being out of Debt.

Discuss.

2009-01-04T09:09:00.000-07:00

New Puppy Lola!

2008-12-24T22:58:00.002-07:00

FINISHED!

Well, it took me a year, but I finally finished the Harry Potter scarves. My nephews were quite patient, waiting silently - only asking once or twice. But this xmas, they got their scarves. Each scarf has 19 stripes. Each stripe has 22 rows. and each row has 70 stitches. All knit on size 5 needles. and then there are 11 tassels on each end. And their initials sewn in so that each boy knows which scarf belongs to which boy.

2008-12-17T10:36:00.002-07:00

I miss you San Francisco!

I had a great time in San Francisco last week. It was sunny. I wore a sweater and no jacket. I wore high heels.

And the shopping. Sigh. The Shopping.

You know, when it comes to retail, sometimes being Canadian is like being a younger sibling locked out of your big siblings birthday party. You have your face pressed against the window and inside you see lots of grown up things going on. Cake. Ice cream. Shiny wrapping paper. and none of it is for you.
Shopping in the US is like being invited into that party and smashing yourself nose first into the cake and mashing it all into your face and loving it! I saw Macy's! Saks Fifth Ave! Nordstroms! Bloomingdales! Victoria's Secret! Juicy Couture! Betsey Johnson! Bath and Body Works! DSW! [and now I've exceeded my maximum number of exclamation points for this blog].

Of course I was there for training so the days were spent in an office building behind a computer. But at night, Kristen [my partner in Crime] and I shopped! and Shopped. And shopped.
on our last day there, we went to Alcatraz and then the Aquarium of the Bay - which were both awesome. We had crepes for breakfast and soup and a sandwich for lunch. It was a fabulous trip!

2008-12-01T20:13:00.002-07:00

A Conversation with Portia

Me: Portia! I can't believe you ate a bag of M&M's and 30 icy squares!
Portia: Whatev's. You left it on the counter.
Me: Don't you learn? You were sick as a... well... dog!
Portia: I see no correlation between eating my weight in chocolate at noon and barfing chunks at 3 am. Two totally separate events.
Me: That's another thing. You threw up in your brother's bed!
Portia: Whatev's. It's not like he was in it at the time.
Me: So not the point, missy.
Portia: Is this going to take long? I have to go out. I ate an entire loaf of bread this afternoon.
Me: Gasp! Sputter! What?
Portia: It was in the Portia zone. I assumed you wanted me to have it.
Me: Bad dog! Very bad dog!
Portia [looking around]: are you talking to me?

2008-11-26T18:31:00.003-07:00

This one time, at band camp.......
My sister teaches Grade 2. She has likened her job to crowd control at a large, public event. Although her job and my job rarely have anything in common, after last month's [painfully long, drawn out, not relevant, I-think-I'm-bleeding-from-the-ears-] meeting, I have decided to take a few notes from my sister and hopefully apply them to the next meeting. Before anyone speaks up, they should try to go through the following checklist, which my sister uses for her 8 year olds:

1. Does what you have to say have to do with what we are talking about? If yes, go to the next question. If no, put your hand down and put your listening face back on.

2. Is it a tattle? If no, go to the next question. If yes, I do not listen to tattles.

3. Is a question or a comment? Remember! Questions are: Who, What, Why, When, Where and How? and I know the difference between a question and a comment. So no fooling! If it's a question, proceed to the next item on the list. If not, I'm sure it's very interesting but if we all shared a personal story, we wouldn't get anything done!

4. Has someone else already asked it? Has it already been answered? Several times? Were you paying attention? Had your listening face on? Are you sure?

I think if we follow the above 4 questions, we can cut next meeting time down from 1.5 hrs to 15 minutes. True Story.

2008-11-09T18:24:00.002-07:00

The Naked Man in the Room

I really don't understand most art. If I look at something and I think it's pretty, then I like it. If I look at something and I think it's ugly, then I don't. Honestly, I think all Monet paintings look like they got rained on. And don't even get me started on sculptures made from trash.

A few months ago, Chantal offered me a free ticket to One Yellow Rabbit's anniversary at the Jubilee. I figured, hey, why not?

Five minutes after the show started, I was watching a naked man wearing only a pair of red rubber gloves dunk his head into a bucket of water and then yell I AM THE WHALER!!

My eyes darted right and left as I tried to figure this out by surveying the reactions of the people around me: was this supposed to be serious? funny? avant garde?

Everyone started joining in, yelling with him I AM THE WHALER.

I really wasn't sure what to do. I kind of wished I brought my knitting.

Last night, I was pinch hitting for Chantal's band as a back up singer at an artsy person's birthday and suddenly, there he was! NAKED WHALER Guy. I'm sure he has a name. in fact, I'm pretty sure he's well respected and revered in the art community, as he is one of the founding members of One Yellow Rabbit. but to me, he will always be Naked Whaler Guy.

Somehow I doubt that was the impression he was going for.

2008-10-31T18:16:00.001-07:00

Brand New Fave
Seriously. I had no idea. The other day, I had some time to kill so I went into Marks Work Wearhouse just to take a peak. And now, i'm addicted! I got four shirts for under 90 bux. I got TWO pairs of pj pants for under 25. I got a skirt, in a SIZE TEN.

I thought they only sold jeans and work boots. I really did. But they had turtlenecks, scoop neck tees, long sleeve tees, skirts, pants. Did I mention the pants all have booty shapers built in and tummy control? and everything is save for the dryer? True story. and it's all REASONALBY priced.

I'm not going to shop anywhere else. I'm really not.

2008-10-19T18:27:00.002-07:00

Ready to Kick some A$$ again!
I took Friday off of bootcamp. In light of my whole Hitting a Wall mental state, I just didn't wanna go. In an act of true friendship, Donna mathematically calculated what percentage of total bootcamps I was missing if I cut out on Friday. Sniff. I was so proud of her! She knows I can't turn my back on a mathematical argument! [FYI, I've only missed 4% of bootcamps = 2 classes].

So instead, I came home, walked the puppies, went to the home depot, picked up some paint for my nook, stopped off at the Bucks for some coffee beans and had an early night. I woke up yesterday morning and started painting my nook. I didn't think about going for a run. I didn't think about doing an exercise video. The treadmil never crossed my mind. I thought about painting and how much I liked the new color. And then I went to wall Mart. And then I painted some more. And then I had a 4 hour nap. And then I had a really lazy, long shower. And then I met Jenn M at Nectar, where I deliriously enjoyed a lemon tart with raspberries on top with a black currant tea.

This morning, after feeding the puppies, I went back to bed and slept in till noon. I did some more painting, and picked up some groceries. I cleaned my bathroom. I made up the guest room. I had another indulgent, drawn out hot shower. I put nice smelling cream on my feet. and now I'm chillin out [yes I said it, I'm chillin out!] waiting for True Blood to start at 9pm.

And i feel ready to go back to Bootcamp tomorrow and kick some A$$!

2008-10-15T20:19:00.003-07:00

Hitting the Wall

Yup. I've hit the wall. Maybe not THE wall, but A wall. Definitely some kind of wall-ish object. I'm tired before I even get to bootcamp, and when I get there, I'm even more so. I push myself, but my heart just isn't in it. At least not these past couple of weeks. and when you're heart's not in it, it's tough to get up those stairs/hills/park benches. Last Friday was the first time I really felt it. We were doing hills. We go up, we go down. The idea is you "rest" while you are running downhill. but you are still running. and on my fourth time up the hill, Michelle, my trainer, was chasing me, telling me to keep going, go harder, faster, more! and suddenly, I just stopped.

Thunk.

Plain old stopped. She said I could catch my breath and as I stood there gasping I said, "What I really want is to cry. I'm TIRED."

She nodded sympathetically. Said maybe that's what I needed. But I still had to run up that hill. And I did. three more times.

Yesterday, it was full body workout. Up and over the park benches, tricep dips, pushups, run, sprint, jump, burpees. And all I could think was, "Stop. Just stop." But I kept going.
Today, was stairs. and as I run, I'm getting out of breath faster and it takes longer to get it back. Four times up and down the stairs, then twice running out to the ridge and back. And then up and down again. I go up, I go down.

Three months of bootcamp has caught up to my psyche. I never thought of myself as an athlete. I started feeling like an athlete, but now I'm having second thoughts. Intellectually, I know I'm in a lot better shape. Prolly more so than I have ever been. Yet the scale has not budged. And that weighs on me. No pun intended.

I tell myself, that if I can just push through 4 more bootcamps, I get a whole week off until the next session. Four more bootcamps. Four more hours. It doesn't sound so bad when you say it like that, but when you're on the third of four sets of stairs, and you're gasping for air, or sucking wind as we call it..... sigh.

4 more!

2008-10-05T19:23:00.002-07:00

We Did It!
Jenge and I promised ourselves a few years ago that we would run the CIBC run for the Cure. But every year when it came around, we were still walking. Last year, I didn't even go, I was too dissapointed in myself for not being able to run it.

But this year was the year! Going to bootcamp 3 times a week since June put us in good cardiovascular shape. Jenge was even sick today, all stuffed up, sinus-y and headache-y and she still ran the whole thing!

We met up with fellow Bootcampers Natalie, Rhonda and Trina, and we all ran the entire 5km. We had great weather for it, cool, but sunny.

As always, the run for the cure is a great event. It's so heartwarming to see all the survivors in their pink shirts, and all the family and friends of people touched by cancer out to support their loved ones. People who live in the neighboorhood come out on their steps to watch us run by, some even decorate their lawn. And there are tons of volunteers handing out water or cheering you on during the race, and handing out apples and bagels at the end.

We didn't bring the puppies as we really wanted to focus on running, but because of all the bootcamps I've done, I still had enough energy when I came home to take the puppies for a 4k walk AND go out and get groceries!

2008-09-30T19:11:00.002-07:00

A Sign!

After Dad passed away, one of Jenge's friends got us a Hope for Humanity bush. I planted it smack dab in the middle of my garden in the back yard. It had beautiful, bright red roses. The next year, I was worried it wouldn't come back, but it did. It got so big that I thought it might take over my whole garden. But this year.... well, I nervously watched it all spring. Nothing. I went out and started clipping branches. Dead. Dead and dry. No hope. But unlike the other rose bushes that didn't make it, I didn't have the heart to pull it out. I yanked the other rose bush, but I couldn't bring myself to pull out the Dad Plant. Everytime I would go out and weed my garden, I would trim a few more branches and hope that one of them wouldn't be dry and dead. but there was nothing.....

And then a few weeks ago, I saw it. Growing out from underneath the dead branches was green! I tried not to be hopeful. Surely, after all spring, all summer of nothing, it wasn't going to start up again in late August for crying out loud. It was probably just weeds. So I watched it. Secretly from the window. Out of the corner of my eye when I went to the garden. I didn't even touch the new green.

Finally I took a close look. It was back! All the dead branches were still dead, but this was brand new growth, from the roots, I guess. I actually touched the leaves. And I told Jenge, "The Dad plant is back!"

And she said, "Hey! Remember what the psychic told me?" I said, No, cuz frankly, I didn't. She saw the psychic almost two years ago - right after Dad died. Jenge continued....

"The psychic told me there was gonna be a plant or flower that represents your dad and you'll think it will have died, but in the fall, it will bloom again, and that will be a message from your dad that he's okay."

True story.

2008-09-28T12:39:00.002-07:00

Who will save you?

Here's the situation.... Something freakishly paranormal happens to you. Who do you chose to investigate and solve the case?

Mulder and Scully - Work well together, are licensed to carry guns, Want to find the truth. Plus they generally get the job done unless it involves Cigarette Smoking Man in which case you are screwed.
Sam and Dean Winchester - Oh so pretty to look at, but they are not so much in it for the "truth/curing the ails of the world" as they are in it for the "My dad used to do this/my girlfriend was killed by the paranormal so I have huge emotional baggage and must continue this line of work" motive. But as I said, oh so pretty to look at.
Peter Bishop, Walter Bishop and Olivia what's her name from Fringe - hmm. Too new to tell if I want them on the job. I mean, they are getting the job done, but Peter is also carrying a whack of personal baggage and so may not be that into helping me.
The Scooby Doo gang - Generally get the job done while looking good. Plus added bonus of Scooby Snacks. and it's fun to say "Jinkies!" like Velma. Daphne could give you hair and clothing tips. You could just ask Fred if he's gay.
Torchwood - Well, they get the job done, and Jack's pretty cute, but you'd have to watch Tosh pine over Owen. And Jack would be okay with killing you if that's what it took to stop the paranomal event from happening and save all of Cardiff.

IMHO, I'm going for Mulder and Scully.

2008-09-22T19:11:00.003-07:00

Message from the President

I know I don't post very often. As president of Secret Doggie Council, it is hard to find the time to post, but I do try. I'm posting today for a very special reason. I know many of you get very excited when you see me out on my jog, either with my Mummy Jennifer, or my surrogate, Mummy Margarita. While I've always tried to make myself an available president, I must ask that you respect my walkies and don't address me at this time. You see...

I LOVE MY RUNS. I GO CRAZY FOR THEM. I CAN'T HELP MYSELF. AND I DON'T WANT TO BE INTERRUPTED BY OTHER DOGS OR GOD FORBID CHILDREN WHO WANT TO TOUCH ME AND THEN EXCLAIM "HE SO SOFT!"

Please. Restrain yourself. Yes, I am that soft. Yes, my billy-goat's-gruff is like buttah. Yes, my ears are that perky and tender. But I am BUSY. I CANNOT STOP TO CHAT.

I look forward to seeing you all at the next Secret Doggie Council Meeting.

The President.

2008-09-21T21:08:00.001-07:00

Cuz it makes me laugh....

2008-09-08T19:40:00.003-07:00

Another list
It's week 6 of my second round of bootcamp. Last Friday, I ran for 35 minutes without stopping. Today I ran to the stairs, went up and down them twice, and still was able to run back to the beginning.

We start our third round of bootcamp on Monday. Here's what I have learned over the last two sessions:

1. You can go farther than you think you can.
2. You might not want to go farther. Sometimes you just want to stop. But you can shut up and do it anyway.
3. to get better, you always have to push yourself. And that's uncomfortable most of the time.
4. It is worth it to get better. But man, somedays, it's really hard to remember that.
5. The last five minutes is when it counts the most.
6. Some days, it's just gonna suck. But that's okay, because.....
7. Some days, you really feel great about yourself! And the world! and the person next to you! and... okay, you get the idea.
8. Sometimes, ice cream really is worth it.
9. Good running shoes really do make a difference.
10. no one at bootcamp cares what you look like while you are working out.

2008-09-04T21:10:00.002-07:00

10 Things I love

In an effort to be [slightly] less negative, I thought I would counter the last post of 10 random things I hated with 10 random things I love. Once again, not a comprehensive list, nor the best of the best. Just a random list
10. A really good stretch after bootcamp. Feels so good!
9. Heinz Ketchup
8. Waking up and realizing I still have tons of time left to sleep. Or that it's saturday!
7. Running my hands under hot water when my fingers are cold.
6. new lipsmackers. Preferably purchased in a party pack of 10.
5. Crave Cupcakes.
4. The smell of fresh laundry
3. being smack dab in the middle of a really good book - I'm invested in the characters and there's still a whole lot of book left for me to enjoy.
2. new socks
1. how I feel after I've filled up on gasoline. I hate actually going to the gas station, but I feel so good about myself when I have a full tank of gas!

2008-08-25T15:55:00.002-07:00

10 Things I Hate
Let's be frank. I could make a list of gazillion things that I hate. I'd never be done. There would always be something new annoying me to add to the list. These are by no means the ten things I hate the most. These are just what are currently on my mind. In no particular order:

10. The women in my office building who use a paper towel to open the bathroom door and then toss that paper towel on the floor. Honestly. were you raised in a barn? it's SO RUDE.
9. The Jonas Brothers. WTF? Where did you come from and why are you so popular?
8. Flaky Mascara - Sigh. I've tried so many and I never get the definition and curliness that I want without the flaky. If I get flake free, then it's not as define-y.
7. Unexpected, early season re-runs of my favourite tv shows - you know what happens. You sit down 4 episodes into one of your fave shows and they show you a re-run! and it's OCTOBER. But they do this to save episodes which leads me to my next point...
6. Television season are 22 episodes long. Again, WTF? That's not even HALF THE YEAR. Get to work, you slobs.
5. Personal Bubble Space Invaders - these are the people that invade my personal bubble. Granted, I have a large bubble, but c'mon, there's no need to be that close.
4. when radio stations play the same artits more than twice in a day - I listen to the radio at work for 8 hrs a day. Are you saying you can't find enough differnet people in that time to fill the void?
3. When I make a pot of coffee and then discover there is no cream. Tragic.
2. The back door to my office building - this lock is so picky and tempermental, every morning, I'm CONVINCED they have changed the locks on me.
1. Kid sized shopping carts at the grocery store and the parents that let their kids drive them, - okay, technically that's two things, but they go hand in hand. There is no reason your child has to be 'entertained' at the store. If you have raised them well, they will be good. If you haven't, it's your fault, not theirs, and why am I paying for it?

2008-08-19T19:59:00.003-07:00

X-Phile

I was, and am, a HUGE X-File fan, an X-Phile, as we are sometimes known. Just the other day, I saw that I could buy entire seasons for 19.99. Considering that some tv shows are 85 bux a season [Hello Torchwood, you're devilishly good, but alas, also a BBC import] seeing X-Files for 19.99 BLEW MY MIND. I had to carefully do a little research first to decide which seasons were absolute MUSTS and would be the first on my list. I finally settled on seasons 5 and 7, with seasons 4 and 6 the next in line to be purchased [prolly next week. - it may seem weird to space my purchases a week apart but it makes me feel less like I'm hemmorhaging money and more like I'm being responsible and weighing my purchases. So sue me].

I settled down in my bed tonight to watch an epi.

I knew it was a good show, but honestly, I had forgotten just how good the writing could be!

I haven't seen the new movie yet. I used to have a friend who was as much of a fan as me and every Sunday night, we would gather at her place and get hamburgers from out and excitedly hunker down on her floor [she didn't have alot of furniture] and watch new eps, but sadly we lost touch. I've tried to find her on facebook, but no luck. And no one else I know is as into it as I am. So I haven't gotten around to going to the movie yet. I'll either take myself some saturday afternoon, or wait until it comes out on DVD and curl up with some munchies and watch it late at night, in the dark [as it is always best to do with the X-Files].

When I see the current crap that is on tv [yes, I address you, reality tv shows] it makes me sad. Sigh.

2008-08-04T12:56:00.002-07:00

I love McDonalds. For as long as I can remember, I've loved McDonalds. I won't accept any trash talk about it.
What people most say is after they eat it, they feel sick. This has never happened to me. Everyone said that once I started eating healthy and swore of the McDonalds, when I went back, I'd notice how crappy I felt. Everyone talked about the movie Super Size Me, and I gotta say, I really didn't give a crap. It's not like I was going to have it three times a day for an entire month anyway.

Well, as it happened, I was off the Mickey D's for SIX WEEKS. Going to bootcamp, I wanted to see results, so I didn't indulge in the golden arches once. Not ONCE. I once mentioned to my bootcamp trainer that I loved McDonalds and that it never made me feel sick, and she said I should have it once and then come to bootcamp the next day and I would notice how crappy I felt and how hard it was to work out.

So there I was on Saturday, six weeks off the Mickey D's. So I went. and I got a big mac and fries with a large coke.

And you know what?

Everyone was WRONG! I felt fine. Better than fine since I'd had my Big Mac Fix. I didn't have a sick tummy, I didn't feel sluggish. Didn't feel all yucky, and the next morning I went for a run with Jenge, Natalie, Rocky and Portia and had one of the best runs of my training.

Fracking liars. All of you! You'll never get me to turn on my Chez Ron!

2008-07-24T16:29:00.003-07:00

Outrage!

So, since Jenge is on vaycay [she's a teacher] she offered to get up with Portia if Portia had to go out in the middle of the night. Tuesday night at 11.30, I stumble to jenge's room and open the door, and then unceremoniously announce, "She's crying."

Jenge rolls out of bed and takes Portia downstairs to put her out. At 1 am [I think I might have dozed for a bit, but the details are fuzzy] Jenge comes back into my room with Portia and declares:

"She didn't even have to P-O-T-T-Y [as we spell important words around the dogs]. She just wanted to sit on the patio"

I give a grunt of outrage as jenge puts portia in her kennel. Jenge curses the latch, which she struggles with. Jenge leaves.

And the crying ensues. No amount of correction with the leash is working. Portia has decided that being kenneled in a roomy crate with snuggle blankets that is right next to the aircon is SAVAGE. AND SHE MUST GET OUT. I switch to verbal reprimands. The tone of my voice would make Nazis quiver. Portia is unfazed. By 2 am, I'm SO ANGRY that I know I won't be able to sleep even if she shuts up. So I leave my room, and close the door behind me, leaving portiacakes ALONE [which I know she dislikes]. I surf the net for a few minutes. Update my twitter. After 15 minutes, I hear nothing but silence. I ponder going back into my room. i wonder if she has finally gone to sleep and this will wake her up, thus breaking the cardinal rule "Let sleeping dogs lie."

After hemming and hawing, I decide to crash in the guest room. I set the alarm clock and go to sleep, on a twin bed, with my feet hanging over the end [did I mention I'm 5'10''?]

Next morning, I over sleep, not used to the other alarm clock. My alarm clock will turn off the radio after an hour, so if I wake up and hear silence, I know I've slept in and I'm screwed. but this one keeps on gleefully playing the radio so I kept drifting in and out of sleep thinking, "Oh, radio's still on - plenty of time."

I rip myself out of bed at 7.45 and open the door to my room.

I stare in disbelief at an empty kennel.

Gasp!

My eyes dart to my QUEEN SIZE BED WITH SIX PILLOWS WHERE A MALAMUTE IS STRETCHED OUT IN ALL HER GLORY SLEEPING!

GASP!

She looks up as if to say "Oh, hey."

Little DEVIL had SOMEHOW gotten OUT of her kennel and SPENT THE NIGHT SLEEPING IN MY BED WHILE I WAS TOUGHING IT OUT IN THE GUEST ROOM.

True Story.

[NB, this picture is not from the actual event, as I was too busy frothing at the mouth to grab the camera. Trust me, she looked even more comfortable when I busted her than she does above.]

2008-07-15T20:33:00.003-07:00

The M*A*C Makeover

Today, Char, Jessi and I went to the MAC counter where Char and I got our makeup done! [Here's hoping Char will post a pic of her on facebook - because she looks rockin'!]

Here's my "look" - I was aiming for the smokiest, darkest eyes I had ever dared! And I even got false eyelashes!!

I don't even want to wash it off and go to bed! I want to pretend to be a movie star longer!!

2008-07-13T19:24:00.002-07:00

Bootcamp
If I've talked to you lately in person, I've talked to you about bootcamp.

Jenge and I signed up for Survivor Bootcamp. We were looking for a way to get in shape. Do a little activity. etc etc. Three times a week.

Wow. It's intense. But do-able. Which seems to be a good combination. We go three times a week, as opposed to one of our bootcamp friends who does five. And lord bless her heart, she's a trooper.

Honestly, I would never push myself as hard when I'm alone on the treadmill as I do at Bootcamp. There are several factors involved, but most circle around public humiliation. But not in a bad way. For those who are interested, here is an average week at bootcamp:

Monday
Warm up with a 10-15 minute jog. [normally, this would be my entire workout]
Circuit training - 1 minute at each station with 30 seconds break in between. Stations include: Jump rope, push ups, sprints, squats, power lunges, military presses, hoop running, ab work. Do two circuits.

Wednesday
Warm up with a 10-15 minute jog.
Stairs - Go down the stairs at North Glenmore park, and up again, 3 times as fast as you can. Think about passing out. Sprint to the ridge [a way to get to the valley without using the stairs] jog down the ridge, sprint up, jog back to the stairs. Think about passing out again. Go down stairs, come back up 2 times with a side to side skier motion. Go down stairs, go back up using one legged hops. At the top, do tricep dips and incline push ups. Jog back to car.

Friday
Warm up with a 10-15 minute jog
Gauntlet - STart off with a partner holding you back with a bungee cord as you try to run forward. Do same thing with side to side squats. Then it's your turn to hold your partner back. And trust me, it will always seem like they are being mean, and holding you back more than you are holding them back.

Do assigned strength training excercise [one of -push ups, burpies, bicycle situps, military presses etc.] run to first pylon. Run back. Do same exercise, run to second pylon [farther than first] run back. Do same exercise. Run to third pylon [way out yonder] run back. Collapse on ground and think about throwing up, knowing if you do, you'll set off a chain reaction of 15 women tossing chunks. Do over about 3-4 times [depending on how fast everyone is]. Run around entire area twice. Collapse to ground.

And there you have it! A week at boot camp!

2008-07-01T21:01:00.001-07:00

I only put up with you because I have to

2008-06-23T06:30:00.002-07:00

Portiacakes update

So, at first, I was really hesitant to crate Portia as my vet had suggested. I thought if I made some other changes, crating her would not be necessary. And then, one night, as I lay in bed just about to fall asleep, I heard the UNMISTAKABLE sound of the portiacakes PEEING IN MY ROOM. I actually lay there for about 45 seconds having this internal monologue:
I DID NOT just hear that! Oh no she didn't. She couldn't have. She was outside on the patio for TWO HOURS before bed. she had PLENTY of time to potty. She couldn't have. Garrgh! but she did! I KNOW SHE DID.

And so I woke up and sure enough, there was a ginormous pee puddle right in front of my door. She didn't try to wake me up to have me put her out. she gave no indication that she still had a FULL bladder before going to bed. She just got out of her bed [her fluffy pillow], went to the door, peed, and went back to bed.

So Jenge helped me get her crate out, and I started crating her. Now, her crate is about 3 feet wide by 4 feet deep. It stays right by my bed. She can see me at all times. She has TWO fuzzy blankets in there for comfort and snuggles. The first night, she cried for 1 hour. By the end of the week, she was up to 6 hours of crying a night. It got to the point that Jenge came into my room one night [when portia was crated] and asked if I was going to bed or if I was going to read for a while. I said, [indicating portia and the wailing coming from the crate] that I had to finish lining her bed with steel spikes and jabbing her with a hot poker before I went to bed.

honestly! She makes it sound like I'm killing her! I've tried putting a blanket over the kennel, not putting a blanket, putting a clock next to hear, playing the radio, running a fan, giving her a smokey bone, no bone, giving her a snuggle toy, no snuggle toy. NOTHING WORKS. Currently, the vet has prescribed valium. The vet says now, portia is in a habit of making a scene and we need to break the habit so that she learns her crate is a happy place, where she gets to snooze uninterrupted.

Let me tell you, you wish you were as committed and stubborn as portia. loaded up on valium, she still manages to put in 45 minutes of protestations before finally curling up and going to sleep.

2008-06-17T19:18:00.002-07:00

Shout out to Heidi
Heidi is my tech guru. Heidi always knows what's up and coming. She got me blogging. She got me signed up on twitter. Heidi has her finger on the pulse of the world. She also got me hooked on Torchwood, insisting that I must watch it even when I pishawed her the first time. She was right. I love it. She's the only person that I can discuss old movies with and also lives close enough to Vulcan that I can email her a week before the Star Trek convention and ask if she'll go with me. She helped me decide between a mug that would change when hot liquid was added [to showcase the original Star Trek three - Bones, Kirk and Spock - transporting out] and a com badge. And Ashleigh totally loved the com badge. So Heidi was right.

So shout out to Heidi!

2008-06-13T20:39:00.002-07:00

Switcheroo

I talked about it for years. Hemmed. Hawed. And finally, I made the Big Switch.

I got a mac computer.

I'd been interested in getting one for a while and almost got one a couple of years back but due to the price difference I ended up getting another pc. But lately at work, all of our computers had gone beserk-o. Chant's computer crashed, then Char's, then mine. Again. Third computer in 4 years. It's not like I beat them with a bat on a regular basis, they just got fried. This last time we had a computer guy in the office trying to salvage my hard drive at work. And so I started bombarding him with questions. And then he said that he fixes pc's all day and then he goes home to his mac. And he never gets service calls for mac. This was so interesting to me. But there was one thing holding me back. I have to log on to the government servers for my job using Nortel VPN and Citrix. I also need to use Summation [a litigation database]. And none of them work on macs.....

But, then computer guy told me an amazing fact. Macs come with a program called bootcamp. You get a valid copy of windows and bootcamp will partition your hard drive and you can run one part on mac, and the other on windows! I could have both! Plus I LOVE the commercials. I'm so easily swayed!

So I got my new macbook. His name is Percival. And he is very small [less than 5 lbs] and he is very cute. And I love his keyboard [which normally are a deal breaker for me as I have nails like eagle talons]. But my long nails aren't a problem on Percy's mac keyboard. I got my new copy of Windows Xp with SP2 [as that is what bootcamp requires] and partitioned by 250 GB harddrive with 32 GB for windows and the rest for mac.

Now, when I turn on my computer, I can chose if I want to boot up in Mac O/S or Windows. If I need to work, I boot up in windows and logon to vpn and then citrix. When I want to fiddle with my personal email or write or listen to my music, I fire up the mac O/S.

I'm still getting used to the mac O/S, but so far, it's been a pretty easy switch and I'm very happy with Percy. I'm still transferring over my files as I need them, but that's been a piece of cake too. My ipod, Mr. Big, is 80GB, which is the entire size of my old PC. I could have transfered all my files over at once, but once I moved my music and my writing, I figured the rest could wait. I didn't want to junk Percy up with all my old crap. Only shiny new crap!

And there you have it. I'm a mac convert!

2008-06-04T06:00:00.002-07:00

The Order of Things
Portiacakes has been OOC [Out of Control] lately. It's crazy. We can hardly leave her alone, even when we are in the house. Counters, carpet... nothing is safe. So I made an appointment for a behavioural consult with my vet to see what's going on. I explained what's been happening:

Me: She jumps up on the counters all the time!
Vet: When you aren't at home?
Me: No! Right in front of me! She counter surfs!
Vet: what happens when she sees you?
Me: Well, the time she ate the cookie dough, she just hastily ate four more cookie blobs as I hustled over to her and then jumped off as soon as I got there.
Vet[shocked]: RIGHT in FRONT of YOU?
Me: Yes.

Then we chatted about where Portia slept [my bed], Portia's schedule, Portia's habits, Portia's likes and dislikes. And it all boiled down to this.

Vet: Here is what's going on. Portia's a bitch. You're a Pushover.
Me: [wide eyed innocent stare]: Oh.
Vet: She knows no matter what she does, mummy will still love her and give her snuggles.
Me: Well......

So, I'm trying to make some changes. No more Portia's jumping on the bed. Portiacakes has to sleep in her own bed. Portiacakes not allowed to have free reign of the house while we're gone. Right now, because of the construction in my basement, she gets the hallway upstairs. No office, no spare room, no Mummy Jennifer room, no Mummy Margarita room.

This weekend, I have to dig her crate out and start crating her at night again. Sniff.

But I've got to be strong! I've got to be tough! I'm alpha dog, dammit! and Alpha dog doesn't whine!

2008-05-29T18:43:00.002-07:00

Diary of a Plant

I should have seen this one coming. She hardly ever remembers to water me. She has 2 four legged furry creatures that she only remembers to feed and water because they stamp their paws next to their food bowls.

This was the fourth winter that I failed to provide the coveted red Christmas flower.
I spent my early life in a windowless office. Even though it was windowless, it was homey, and I kept my lone red blossom. Then when she moved offices, she took me home. She repotted me. She gave me new soil. She was faithful and watered me. But I couldn't hang onto that one red flower.

But I could tell she thought that was okay. It was summer, and I don't bloom in summer.

Then came the first Christmas, and I didn't blossom.

She was sad. But she didn't say anything. I could tell, though, by the way she checked each of my stems that she was dissapointed. She trimmed me up, dusted me, cleaned up my dead leaves.

Then came the second Christmas.

The waterings became few and far between. I was in a home office, her home office, next to her computer where she could always see me.

Then I started getting drier and drier.

Then she moved me to the table behind her, and I was no longer in her line of sight.

Then came Christmas number three. She almost gave up on me. She thought about putting me into hibernation, to see if that would work.

This was Christmas number four. I haven't been watered since then, I do'nt think. She stops and looks at me now and again, like she's debating about it. Maybe this is hibernation. Maybe she's forgotton. Maybe she is mad.

2008-05-21T20:23:00.003-07:00

Kickin it Old School

Last month, I got the feeling... The feeling that I should go to Greece to see my dad's family. I hemmed and hawed, but when you get that feeling, it's hard to ignore, and if there's one thing that Uncle Carmie's death taught me, it's that you can't wait. You have to go now. I waited to long to go to Nova Scotia, so when Carmie died before I got a chance to get back out there, I thought to myself "That's it. You waited to long." So I didn't want to have that feeling again.

I got a last minute deal and off a went for two and half weeks in Greece. Seeing the peeps, spending time with the Silverbacks [as I affectionately call the people I see over there - I only saw three people in my family under the age of 40 - One of them is my new cousin, baby Maria, in the photo].

And I guess I went just in time. This blog was supposed to start out about what I did and how I brushed up on my Greek, but sadly, Uncle George passed away last week, and his wife, Marika, just the other day. What a shock. I know they were older, but I was still surprised. I mean, I just saw them. But it seems like that's what you say whenever someone dies, as if you somehow just laying eyes on them recently should offer them some sort of supernatural protection.

So I'm definately glad I acted on my feeling and went to see them. Somehow I feel strangely better knowing that I saw them and they saw me and we spoke briefly [okay, really briefly since my greek is not so hot]. But it makes a difference.

Going to see my family in Greece is definately different from what most tourists experience. They aren' t on the islands. We are from a small town in the north, in the mountains. I stay with my Thea [Aunt] Freida. She has a tv with antennas, and only gets 3 channels. She has a rotary phone. She doesn't know who Harry Potter is, and had no idea if Veria [the town] even had an internet cafe. She makes everything from scratch, including her own pita and she somehow thinks I can learn it all by watching her once. I took notes, but they are sketchy at best. She doesn't use measuring cups. She uses 1 teacup and a saucer to measure everything. when I asked her how hot her oven had to be, she said that the numbers were broken and it's only On or Off. When I asked her how long it took to cook, she said, "Until it is finished."

My days there are spent visiting friends of my Thea, or of my late father, or other relatives. We have greek coffee and some cake, or maybe a chocolate or two. We napped in the afternoons, and had dinner late. I ate only fresh food [no preservatives! me!] and walked everywhere. If push came to shove, Thea could kick my ass. She's 72 and in better shape than I have ever been. Every morning she hikes it up the hill to the town to buy her groceries. On Tuesdays, she goes to the bazarre. She hates it when I carry her bags. She likes to show me off to her friends which I find amusing and embarrassing at the same time. She tells them all I speak Greek wonderfully, a GROSS exaggeration. She was VERY impressed that I knit. In fact, all my relatives were.

Thea prays every day for me to find a good husband who will take care of me so I don't have to work [true story]. I think she hopes that since she taught me how to make cake, pita and cookies, this will somehow magically happen. Although she did tell me several times that if I found a man, and he turned out to be 'bad' I had to ditch him to the road. Her exact words were "If he is bad.... ROAD!" and then she would swipe her hand out like she was smacking someone. All her lady friends agreed wholeheartedly.

I had my teacup read several times, although my greek was not so great, so I didn't get all the details, but I was assured that my future looks very good. Shamefully, I hardly paid for anything. All of my relatives bought me something. I had barely to glance at something in the window, and someone was at the till purchasing it for me, despite my protestations and my flashing of a Mastercard. Shoes, dresses, rings.... I felt really bad until I talked to Doxa about it [my greek aunt who lives in Canada] and she reminded me that they just want to show me how happy they are I came. That gave me a nice warm fuzzy.

I'm still sad that George and Marika are gone, but when I think of them in my head, I can see how happy they were, and how they just lit up when I arrived to see them last month. Which is just another reminder, if you get the feeling, you have to go.

2008-04-09T19:26:00.002-07:00

Understanding Wile E. Coyote

Number of mousetraps set off by Portia: 0

Number of mousetraps set off by me or Jenge: 2

I finally feel sorry for that damn coyote!

2008-04-07T20:06:00.003-07:00

Entrapment

The Bait...

The Mark...

And now, we wait....

2008-03-29T11:20:00.002-07:00

The Urge to Purge
I've never been much of a cleaner, let alone a spring cleaner. But this year, something has shifted and I have the sudden urge to spring clean my entire house. Maybe it's the fact that Char decided to reno the office and purge all our old stuff for new. Maybe it's just time. I'm not sure.

I've started with my office/scrapbooking area. I've already taken out two bags of garbage and ordered some shelves and storage for my stuff. I've cleaned out the closet and neatly stacked the things I want/need to keep.

I went through my clothes and have about a bag and a half for charity. I'm foregoing my usual method of packing it up for a year, taking it out again, deciding if I missed it and then taking it to charity. This time, the bag is ready to go, and it's just going to go.

I find myself wandering around the house wondering what else I can purge. I open drawers, cupboards, checking to see if there's anything in them that I can clean, junk, pack away or file. I'm sure there's tons more I could do, but I really don't know where to begin. Jenge and I already had the Junk guys here in June and we purged a bunch then [in preparation for our basement renos] but I still feel like there's more to go and I'm not sure if the feeling is coming from a physical need to purge or an emotional need.

I do know that Portia gets very nervous when I start tossing stuff. She follows me around, watching everything go in the bag. And then she sighs loudly before padding off softly, her head low.

2008-03-04T21:51:00.002-07:00

Feel the burn!
So, I had my first chemical facial peel on Friday. I'm new to this whole thing, having only had two facials in my entire life. I kinda expected it to be like them. About an hour, a lot of stuff going on that I don't see since my eyes are closed, some facial massage, some cream, dorky hair from a hairband and there you have it. In the interest of those who want to know, here is the skinny:

It took about 10 minutes, burned like a mofo and left me yellow for the rest of the day [which I worked, thank you very much!]. Apparently, I was yellow from the retinol A which is to be expected. From Friday at 2pm onward, I looked like I had a moderate sunburn. By Saturday night, I had started to peel. I foolishly thought that the one layer that peeled off by Sunday would be it.

On Monday, I returned to work somewhat self conciously, wishing I could wear a sign that said "I had a chemical peel." However, by today, I was doing much better and someone actually commented on how nice my skin looked! [NB - they did not know I had done anything, so this was a genuine compliment]. By tonight, I think [hope!] I am done peeling. I must say, my skin tone is almost totally even, except for a few red patches, but it is much better than my pre-peel face which was kinda dull looking and blotchy. I feel like I have a really nice glow now. In three weeks, I have another one scheduled, and then a microdermabrasion after that.

Am feeling very diva-ish this week, since I had my peel on friday, I have a pedicure tomorrow and my nails are getting done on Thursday. Hey, when it's just you and the Portiacakes, you can spend your money how you want!

2008-02-29T20:23:00.002-07:00

An Open Letter to Management - a post by Portia

Condishuns r unakseptable. Bed to small. Today, therr was almost no kibbble. Mummy sed she was stuk in traffik. Don't no what that meens. Therr must bee kibbble. Getting yelled at 4 jumping on counter. Want door left open at all tymes, don't care how cold it iz outside. Want more snow. Want more sqweekee toyz. Mine broke.
But thankz for the choclut on the counter. It wuz gud. P

2007-12-18T07:46:00.000-07:00

Chachi?

'Scott Baio is 45.... and Single' is a reality show staring, you guessed it, Scott Baio as he meets up with former girlfriends and asks why they broke up. He is joined in his journey by a life coach.

Seriously. I'm a writer, and even I can't make this stuff up. I got the pic above from his official website.

I know.

I must say, Scott Baio is part of an elite group in my brain. The 'I wouldn't touch you decked out in a full CDC Hazmat suit with radiation gloves and a dedicated oxygen suppy' group. This group is populated by: Colin Farrel, Richard Greico and Scott Baio. Group memebership is open, so I can add new/old celebreties as they become available/popular.

When I heard about this show, I thought, nah, can't be! When will I learn that in Hollywood, there is no bottom of the barrel, there is just another barrel beneath the one they are working on and when they get to it and start to scrape the bottom, they find a secret hatch with a whole other barrel underneath.

2007-12-13T20:19:00.000-07:00

An Open Letter to Telus

Dear Telus,
You suck. No one likes you.

People have cell phone contracts with you because it's too hard to switch to someone else, and everyone else is just as crooked. But you... I hold a special place in the hatred corner of my heart for you. You charge $3.50 for a downloaded ringtone that is a PORTION of a song. I can get the WHOLE song from iTunes for $0.99. why are you ripping me off? You told me I needed a warrenty for my new cell phone because 70% of cell phones fail in the first year. You should be ASHAMED of yourself? WHO SELLS CRAP THAT FAILS ALL THE TIME? [Other than informercial people]. and if your phones DON'T fail 70% of the time in the first year [for which I have seen no proof as no one I have ever known has had a cell phone that failed] then you LIED to me to SCARE me into buying the warrenty. You try to entice people into savagely long 3 year contracts, saying that the phone they want will cost $300.00 on a one year contract but only $49.99 on a three year contract, yet you forget to point out that in a three year contract you are GOUGING them for OODLES more. When I have problems with my v-mail at work, I call the number. I speak to the disembodied voice. I spend 5 minutes telling her I am a business account and that I can't access my v-mail. I tell her this THREE Times. Then I finally get a REAL PERSON and the first thing they want to know is: WHY AM I CALLING? I just spent the last FIVE MINUTES pushing buttons and telling the computer why I am calling.

And apparently, the issue is NEVER your fault. It's always the people who put the phone lines in my building [newsflash - it was YOU] the people who installed my jacks [newsflash - also you] or the people who originally set up the v-mail [you guessed it - you].

You SUCK. No one likes you.

Squirrelly Girly.

2007-12-09T17:34:00.000-07:00

Dear Santa,

I have been a very good dog this year. Except for when I ate my mum's laundry. And the times that I stuffed my face into the kibble bag when she opened the pantry. And the times I beat up my pack mate Rocky. And that time I jumped up on the counter and took the whole bag of bread. And that time I tried to take a sandwhich right out of my mummy's hands.

Other than that, I have been an exceptionally good dog. Except for that time I growled at my mum. And when I had explosive diarrhea on the carpet, the wall, and the baseboards. And when I peed in her bedroom because I was mad at her. And I ate that book she was reading. And... well, never mind all that now. The point is, I am really good looking and look like I should be a good dog, and so I am a good dog, and if you don't give me what I want, I will pee on your sleigh. Here is my list:

Bones
Kids
Meat
Yarn
Another dog
More Kibble
My own queen sized bed with pillows and a blanket
Did I already say meat? In case I didn't, meat.

As I said, I have been a very good dog. I snuggle with my mum on a daily basis and even though I squirm and whine when she cuts my nails, I don't bite her. I only make her put me outside 4 times an hour, and I only take up two thirds of her bed. I eat all the crumbs off the floor.

Most importantly, I make my mummy smile.

Love, Portiacakes.

PS. I was going to leave you cookies, but I ate them. I know you'll understand.

PPS. I drank the milk too. It was very good.

2007-12-01T21:34:00.000-07:00

On the missing list
It's not like I'm the kind of person who takes her clothes off wherever she goes and then finds herself waking up naked not knowing what transpired the night before. So I can't really figure out where some of my clothing has gone. There are a few things I'm troubled by on a regular basis:

The white hooded knit sweater from the Gap - if you know me at all, I've bemoaned the loss of this sweater to you. It was fabulous. It was a spring/summer sweater. Loose fitting and slightly hole-y. It went over tank tops. I looked great in it. I felt great in it.

The burgandy striped top and matching cardigan that I wore when I went to Paris - how annoying that everytime I look at my pics of my first trip to Paris, my first thought is always "Where IS that sweater set?" followed by "I look really good in that sweater set" followed by "Oh look. Notre Dame."

My pink keds - technically, I am only missing one. But how did THAT happen?

My dance shorts - I used to be in dance in highschool and I had a pair of shorts that I bought for our big routine. I used to wear them all the time as they were super comfy. One day, they were gone. never saw them again.

Socks - Don't even get me started on socks. I should just learn to buy all the same socks so that when I lose one from a pair, I do'nt really notice. But no, I like to buy socks with patterns, with kitchy stuff on them. I used to keep the Lonely Sock Box - a place to put all lonely socks until I found the other. It got too full and I had to throw it out.

If there is someone out there that is stealing my stuff as a weird way of stalking me, and you are taking things and building some super creepy shrine with candles, pictures and my stuff, come talk to me. I'm sure we can work out a swap. I really want that white hooded sweater back.

2007-11-15T21:49:00.001-07:00

Out of the Closet?

My mum and I chat a bit. About this, about that. It's always sorta been understood that my family are not "Glass half full" kinda people. Or if the glass was half-full, it would be of seafoam green soy wheat grass carrot juice that you didn't want anyway. My family makes sarcastic remarks about pretty much anything. In fact, sometimes, I think we've pushed the morbid envelope far past it limits (I reference Brandi's last days when her final vet visit was scheduled and the clock was ticking on her permanent vacation to the doggie farm. It is said at this time, my mum and my sister were known to call out "dead dog walking" as Brandi passed them by in her blissful - albeit very very sick - ignorance). Or at work, when Chantal mentioned that she had restless leg syndrome and I said, "My dad had that." Pause. "And then he DIED." I laughed darkly to myself while Chantal shook her head.

As mum and I chatted about some recent events in our lives, mum came to a sudden, stark revelation. We had been saying for the last couple of minutes, "well, it will all work out," or "you never know what tomorrow will bring" and "It could be worse." Mum paused at one point and said, "Are we closet optimists?"

Are we? Have we cloaked ourselves in pessimism all these years only to be unmasked as sunny, cheery, optimistic people? Those Silver Lining, Don't Lose Hope, Let a Smile be your Umbrella People?

Shudder.

2007-11-06T17:09:00.000-07:00

Beauty Hurts

Whenever I complain that I've broken a nail, most people thing I'm being really wimpy. I'm here to tell you it's serious business. The photo here is of my right hand (and yes, I am right handed) with my two broken nails. I was getting an oil change at the minit lube and had to pop my hood. When I pulled on the handle, it was a little sticky and tough, so I really yanked. The hood popped and so did two of my nails, ripping off to the quick. I can't even get them fixed until they heal.

Waaaaaa!

And I was SO happy with the new color too! Blue Oyster. That's what I get for being so vain...

I should also mention that this has just happened as my middle finger has finally healed from a cut I had to get a teatnus shot for. This totally sux!

2007-11-02T06:03:00.001-07:00

Busy Squirrell

Dudes. I'm, exhausted. I don't like to be too busy. I prefer to have my weekends be sloth filled hours of sitting on the couch watching telly, and then maybe a nap. During the week, I don't go out, other than to go to work. But I've been a busy squirrell lately. Since coming back from the writer's conference in Vancouver, I've been dutifully working on my book, trying to get 500 words a day. I have been pretty successful. Then I had a few nights over at my mum's. This weekend I'm off to the Bloomin inn to go scrapbooking so I spent last night pulling paper and packing. Next weekend I'm off to Lethbridge to visit Heidi, pick up my dress, and hopefully have a girls lunch with Heidi and Jenny. The weekend after that, Heidi is up here.

I know it doesn't seem like much, but to me, this is a jam packed schedule! If I didn't have to meet with the lawyers today for work, I would stay at home and nap!

2007-10-28T20:56:00.000-07:00

The Evolution of Hand Gestures

And for all of you hoping this blog is about dirty, obscene hand gestures, keep surfing my friends. No, what I'm talking about is our outdated handsignals for stuff we never do anymore. Like phone.

I like the phone hand gesture. I'll see if I can describe it, but I'm sure you know what I'm talking about. One hand, up by your face. Your thumb is the ear piece, your pinky the talky part, and the rest of your hand is presumably, the phone. You can do this hand gesture across a great distance while mouthing "Call me." Although the mouthing part is optional since everyone knows what the gesture means.

But what's the getsure for "Text me?" "Email me?" "Check out my Blog?"

I got nothing that doesn't involve holding both hands in front of yourself typing away on an imaginary keyboard. Not nearly as cool and sleek as the Call Me gesture.

2007-10-18T14:08:00.000-07:00

And We're Off!
It has finally arrived! Ashleigh and I are off to our first writer's conference. I'm flying out to Vancouver to stay with Ashleigh and then it's 3 fun filled days of conference stuff (how to write effective dialogue! How to create suspense! How to get published!) and 1 fun filled day of hanging out with Ash.

Even though Ashleigh and I were separated at birth, we've not actually met in person, so this should be super fun! We work together and email and msn nearly every day, but have never had face time.

And I haven't been back to Vancouver since I was there in 2002 (I think - don't you hate how when you get older you lose track of what year you did what?). I'm looking forward to seeing some stompin grounds! and the IHOP - sorry jenge, if I could bring it back for you, I would!

2007-10-13T20:32:00.000-07:00

A Guy Named Jack

I was talking with Jenge the other day, and I asked her, what is it with the name Jack? It seems to be Hollywood's de riguer response to a character that needs a solid name. A man of action, yet one who may be slightly emotionally tortured and probably carries some emotional baggage. A guys guy. Someone the men in your life wanna be him and wanna hang out with him - have a couple of beers with the guy. The women want to date him - possibly rescue him, depending on the situation. I'm so over JACK! I've decided I'm NEVER using the name in any of my books.

Think I'm nuts? Check out my list:

Jack Ryan - The Hunt for Red October
Jack Sparrow - Pirates of the Carribean
Jack Traven - Keanu Reeves in Speed
Jack Twist - Brokeback Mountain
Jack Bauer - 24
Jack Bristow - Sydney's dad on Alias
Jack O'neill - Richard Dean Anderson on Stargate
Jack Shephard - Matthew Fox on Lost
Jack Tripper - Three's Company
Jack Malone - Without a trace
Jack Dawson - Titanic

It only took me 5 minutes to make that list. imagine if I had really tried....

2007-10-02T17:31:00.000-07:00

Who's makin' all the money?
The Canadian dollar is currently slightly above the US dollar. For weeks, months, it has been slowly on the rise, until finally, it surpassed it.

But I've yet to see any difference in my online shopping sites. Which is why I've jettisoned my .ca sites and am now shopping .com.

Who's making all the money?

If my dollar is currently as good, nay better (!) than it's US counterpart, why on earth would I pay 21.95 for a book at Amazon.ca that will cost me 14.95 at Amazon.com?

Jenge and I have wanted a Dyson vaccuum for a while, and while LnT is offering it for 500.00, online browsing has shown it to me for 350.00. Slap on 50 bux shipping and handling, I'm still coming out with 100 bux extra in my wallet if I buy from the US.

2007-09-29T08:47:00.000-07:00

Holy Crap!

Over the last month, I have been a woman obsessed! My current obsession? The BBC series Jekyll.

Only 6 episodes long, I missed the first one, but caught the second one by accident. After 10 minutes, I was hooked. I started telling everyone to watch Jekyll. On Wednesday, I saw episode 5, and yesterday, the DVD of the show I ordered from Amazon showed up, so last night I watched episode 6.

WOW! wow. It's all I can say. After episode six ended, I actually muttered the words, "Holy crap."

I don't think I've ever seen anything that intelligent, well acted, well scripted, well lit (for crying out loud!) on tv!

I'm off to meet Chant for breakfast today, and as I got her hooked on Jekyll, I'm bringing the DVD and she simply MUST watch it before Monday so I have someone to talk to it about!!

2007-09-20T20:54:00.000-07:00

Coffee!
I love coffee. I really do. I love it as much as I love Portia, and that's alot (she's so darn cute). Jenge and I brew a pot every morning. Chances are at least 1 (if not 3) pot gets brewed at the office, and most evenings I make a pot when I get home from work too. It's how I relax, it's how I get going, it's how I escape. I use coffee as my shield - I cannot possibly roll out of bed and get dressed and go to work immediately, I must drink that cup of coffee first. And it cannot be rushed, or I might burn my tongue.

There are two kinds of coffee drinkers out there. The ones like me, who turn to coffee as a beverage just about any time of day. Thankfuly, I work with these kind of coffee drinkers. No one bats an eyelash if you start crying because the only coffee that's left in the office is the Emergency-only-if-your-life-depends-on-it can of Maxwell House. The second kind of coffee drinkers are those who think they love coffee as much as the rest of us, but have been known to go days, nay weeks without a sip of the lovely brew. I'm not saying they don't love it, I'm just saying they aren't as... dedicated as the rest of us.

My all time record for coffees per day was back when I worked for the Mother Ship, Starbucks. On an average working day, I would have at least 3 cups of coffee and 8 shots of espresso. And sleep like a baby at night. Working your ass off all day will do that to you. Right now, it's 10pm and I'm wishing I could have a cup of coffee. I'm not worried about caffeine keeping my up. My only concerns are
a) I don't have time before bed to drink more than 1 cup from the pot (although my cup is 20oz) and that just seems like a waste of good coffee
b) I'll be getting up all night to go to the bathroom.

I miss my carafe coffee pot. That machine brewed the coffee right into a stainless steel carafe that would keep the coffee warm all day. If I still had it, I could be drinking this morning's coffee right now - and it would taste just as good. Instead I'm staring at our current glass coffee pot wondering how bad it would taste to microwave some life into that bad boy.

2007-09-16T20:00:00.001-07:00

It's Love!

Last Sunday I was sitting at my computer updating my ipod Mini. I must have blacked out for a few minutes and Evil Margarita took over, because the next thing I knew, I was printing out the invoice for a new iPod classic in black (I would have taken his picture, but my camera batteries are kaput). He arrived on Friday and it's been love ever since. I named him Mr. Big, since he will hold 20000 songs! I don't even know 20000 songs. In fact, my computer currently only has 1411 songs, but whatever. Since I got Mr. Big, I have spent about 8 hrs this weekend trying to find album artwork for all the stuff in my iTunes library. The only snag seems to be some sort of an iTunes glitch in which some songs will not let me modify the artwork, but I think I'm about 90% there. I've also downloaded two books to listen to on my morning commute. And I put my Mexico pictures on him so that I have somethign to cheer me up when I am sad about the monotony of work. And you know what? Mr. Big is not even 10% full. AMAZING! He's so handsome and shiny. I will have to knit him a cozy so he doesn't get my grimy fingerprints all over his shiny black and silver casing. I think he's man enough to handle pink and chocolate brown.

2007-09-12T21:33:00.000-07:00

Mathology

I have a math degree. I am horrible with numbers.

These two statements, despite your first thought, are not mutually exclusive. When in the math faculty, I rarely had to use numbers. If I did, they were not bigger than 10. Or they were irrational numbers or numbers as words: pi, e, the sqauare root of 2, cos of 0, epsilon.

When people find out I have a math degree, they automatically assume I am good with numbers and some even bark out a question like, "What's the square root of 5692?" - Got me. But if you have a calculator, I'm wicked awesome with a number pad due to my time as a safeway cashier.

Like any good grade school student, I memorized my multiplication tables up to 12*12, and because I like numbers, I know 13*13, 14*14, 15*15 - just cuz I think it's fun. I factor in my head when I can't sleep at night, bringing all numbers down to their prime factors. It's very relaxing and distracting. You try getting upset about deadlines at work when you are trying to break down 120 in your head (120=2*3*4*5 - which actually fascinates me because other than it's prime factorization, I see nothing else extraordinary about 120 but there you have it). But splitting the cheque, knowing how much to tip, or figuring out 3% of my paycheck for my health benefits, and I'm reaching for my trusty keyboard calculator.

I'm more interested in how math forumlas work, why they work, why they are true all the time, and how it is that anyone ever possibly figured out imaginary numbers (no joke! they exist!) than trying to figure out how much is left in my bank account.

I leave you with this thought:
It is not the job of mathematicians... to do correct arithmetical operations. It is the job of bank accountants. ~Samuil Shchatunovski

2007-09-10T19:20:00.000-07:00

What a way to start a week...
Raise your hand if you suffer from Sunday night insomnia.

Are we so used to passing out exhausted after working all day that two days of doing nothing (aka: grocery shopping, laundry, vaccuuming, lawn work, socializing, hobbies, reading and watching telly) screws us over so much so that we can't fall asleep? I was up until at least 2am last night (which was when I stopped checking the clock). Even Portia, tired of my tossing and turning, was like, 'Do you mind? I'm trying to get some shut eye here!' Is it because we don't want the weekend to end? Some studies have even suggested that Catholics suffer the most from this Sunday night insomnia as they ponder with copious amounts of guilt all the things they didn't get completed on the weekend.

All I know is, it's a crummy way to start my week.

2007-09-02T19:13:00.000-07:00

Affairs, Exile, Poison...Another day at Meerkat Manor!

I've seen the ads for this show over the past couple of months, and I have to say, I was dying to watch it. I tuned in tonight for 2 episodes on Access - and boy was it fun! The show follows a family of Meerkats, The Whiskers, as they try to survive. Narrated by Bill Nighy, tonight's two episodes were jam packed!
Flower, the Whisker matriarch, exiled her daughter, Mozart for having pups. As the matriarch of the pack, only Flower is allowed to have kids. Mozart got beaten up and then exiled for having a litter. Alone, with no one to groom her, and no one to watch over her while she forages, can she survive??
Mitch, big bully pup of Flower, got greedy and stole food from another pup. But after eating too much scorpion, he go sick. Will he make it through the night?
Tosca, another of Flower's daughters, also made the terrible mistake of having her own pups. She was beaten up and exiled as well. Luckily, she had Mozart to keep her company.
But then! Flower has a new litter of pups, and Mozart uses that small weakness to get back in the pack! Mitch survives the night! Tosca is still exiled. And in a terribly naughty move, Mozart hooks up with Carlos from a rival pack. Flower, too busy foraging after giving birth doesn't appear to know - but the rest of the pack does. Will Mozart repeat her terrible mistake and give birth again?
Tune in to Meerkat Manor to find out!

2007-08-29T18:19:00.000-07:00

Points to Ponder

Why DO the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles need to wear eye masks? Are there really THAT many Ninja turtles that by wearing masks, we won't know who they are? Or is it so we can tell them apart? Or they can tell each other apart? Because if that's the case, they could put their names on their shells, kinda like the FBI puts 'FBI' on all their jackets. So it must be some sort of a disguise, but can you really disguise a teenage mutant ninja turtle? They're gonna stick out no matter what kind of mask they wear. And I'm pretty sure this conversation isn't going to happen:

Cop: Can you describe who it was that stopped the Evil Overlord Ninja from taking power?

Bystander: Omg, it was like a mutant ninja turtle, a teenage mutant ninja turtle! But I couldn't see his face because he wore a mask!

Cop: (sigh) Chalk another one up to anonymous good samaritan. Nuts.

2007-08-26T17:00:00.000-07:00

Maybe I don't have a black thumb after all!
Those are roses from my front yard. They bloom first in yellow, then deepen to orange and finally to red. This year, the sun was so hot, it bleached the red to white. IT's like 4 rose bushes in one!

2007-08-08T07:43:00.000-07:00

Big Dog, Little Dog

I don't think Portia knows she's a big dog. She tries to cram herself into Rocky's doggy bed (having destroyed her own). Paws, tail and head all hang off the side, but to look at her, that's her bed now. And she's afraid of cats. Cries and whines when she sees one (although this may have to do with the fact that our neighbors gave their cat a poodle haircut - you know, with the fluffy tail and feet, but shaved everywhere else). And we have a tough time sharing a queen sized bed. She tries to curl herself into the back of my knees, but you can see, paws are hanging off the side. She also tries to make friends with all the little dogs at puppy daycare, but as soon as she comes in, they all lie down and roll over on their backs to show submissiveness because she's big! But she just looks at them like, "What are you doing? I'm a little dog like you!" She also tries to crawl under the fence to see the neighbors, but gets stuck. and she seems really surprised that she got stuck.
Maybe Portia knows what we all wish we could learn - It's not your size on the outside, it's how you see yourself mentally and in her mind, she's a little dog.

2007-08-02T20:22:00.000-07:00

What I've learned. . .

I was thinking really hard all week on how to end the Week of Dad. What was the best story I knew? What was the best advice I ever got from him? Everyone has had their favourite Dad-ism (I'll try to list most of them!) but as for advice, I think that the most important things I learned from him, I didn't learn from him telling me, but I learned by example:

Family is important, and when family needs something, you do it/get it/say it. No whining, no complaining, no bartering. You shut up and deliver, because they are your family.
Treat your closest friends like they are family.
Have fun with your family and friends.
What someone does for a living or how much they make does not factor into whether or not they are a good person.
If you only raise your voice once in a while, people will stop and listen when you do.
Make sure you save some money in the bank for rainy days
Play when you can (especially with kids! - Dad played with us alot, and he played with my nephews too)
Be nice to people
You can frame, drywall and paint yourself, but always get a professional to plaster and tape (okay, so that one is not sappy and sentimental, but it's true! Taping well is a hard job!)
Work hard and take pride in your work.

I'm sure there's more that I don't even realize I learned, but those are the things that stick out the most.

For my friends and family, if you have a dad-ism you don't see here, put it in the comments!

More Dad-isms:
When you tell me things like this, it's like a bullet in my head [Said to Jenge when she was 16 after she told him she had a crush on the courtesy clerk at Safeway, who was very cute, but really dumb]

Listen . . . [said in a deep serious tone, and with a finger point, and then followed by the World according to Dad]

How you fixin'? [for money - it was his way of asking if we needed any]

Merry Christmas, Brandi [Said to the dog as he dropped large hunks of meat on a piece of tinfoil that he carefully folded up as a plate and set on the ground]

Something between here [my dashboard] and here [my engine] is no connected. [Which is how he explained to me why my check engine light was always on]

I know what he is thinking, he is thinking 'That Goddamn Greek is still there.' [part of his toast at my sister's wedding]

Split-bannanas, Berry-Knots Farm, Torture 86

We go for schvimming [Dad learned english from german and sometimes you still heard a little bit of the german]

Nice to know you still alive! [said when we finally called home after not calling for a few days]

Slow, eh, slow [repeated MANY times whenever one of the kids was using the video camera]

Look at all the cars you hit!! [said when we drove over the yellow lines in the parking lot while he was teaching us to drive]

2007-08-01T21:18:00.000-07:00

If you build it. . .

It has been 365 days since I last saw my dad in person. There have been moments over the past year where I think every member of my family has thought that they were finally feeling better and moving on, and just as many moments where they found themselves back at the same place they were at the moment he died. The most bittersweet aspect of the greiving process has been the stories of my dad. Generally very funny and touching, they are at the same time a great comfort - reminding us who he was - and a crushing reminder of what we lost.
Dad was a builder and over the years, built us many things. Our house, our bikes, a table for parties downstairs, a plastic rocking horse (whose springs used to pinch our chubby legs when we got too big), a tree stand for our Christmas tree (although that was after many years of jerry rigging it with string and nails), shelves for all our rooms, walls for new rooms when we got older and needed our own space, a desk for my mum, a bathroom in the basement, a dog area for my dogs (although he postured that he didn't like them), a deck for my house, a deck for Ann, and his greenhouse (oh, lord, the greenhouse. What an eyesore!) I liked to watch him work. He was a man of few words, and if you wanted to learn, you learned by watching. You could ask him questions, but I found it worked best when I found a quiet place to sit out of the way and just watched. Watched him snap a chalk line, or put up drywall, or re-wire a socket. It never in a million years occured to me that not everyone's dad could do those things. Those were Dad things - done with Dad tools. And I was surprised when I found out that not everyone's Dad had been able to build a bathroom without any plans. Over this past year, we've slowly been learning how much we depended on him, for even the simplest task - hang a picture, hang a gate, fix a shelf - all things that we saw him do a million times.

Dad-ism of the day: My mum once said it would be nice when they got older to move into a bungalow. Then they wouldn't have to go up and down so many stairs. My dad looked at her and asked a very familar dad question: "Who are you? The Queen of England?"

2007-07-31T20:48:00.000-07:00

The importance of higher education

Growing up poor, Dad didn't have the opportunity to go to school past a certain age. His father had died when he was only 3, and pretty much everyone in the family had to work. We used to hear stories about how when he was in school as a young boy, the American soldiers would hand out chocolate milk at lunch to the kids. Then later, we heard how he would take the animals up into the mountains and he would sleep in trees. Our education was very important to him, which leads me right into my next dad-ism.

Dad-ism of the day: God help you if you EVER EVER complained about having to go to school, or whined about how you didn't want to go. This would spark Dad off and his lecture always started with the same words:

What! You wanna be a dummy for the rest of your life!??!!

At the end of the lecture, you were sufficiently chastised, realizing that your education was super important and you were ungrateful for not using the opportunity. I can't remember what he used to say for the rest of the lecture, but my sisters and I ALWAYS remembered the opening line.

2007-07-30T20:08:00.000-07:00

Do as I say, not as I do!

When we used to go to Greece as kids, we loved going down to the river. Just a short walk from Grandma's house, it was great. No matter how hot it was, the river was nice and cold. Freida used to go down there every day and get drinking water from the small spout (that's me standing next to it in the background). But no matter how often we played down there, we were NEVER, EVER allowed to walk across the river on the big log. NEVER. And SHAME on you for even CONSIDERING IT! But dad would sashay back and forth across it all the time! We were so jealous! Sometimes, I remember he would stand on it, as we watched him from the balcony at Grandma's and he would thumb his nose at us!

Dad-ism of the Day: Dad was told by his doctor not to have spicy, salty or fatty foods. I caught him once making a german salami sandwhich (with Peppercorns!) with thick slabs of velveeta cheese and a heavy helping of Dijonaise. When I confronted him his response was: "Don't eat this, don't eat that. . . May as well lay down and die."

And he took his sandwhich and left the kitchen.

2007-07-30T07:16:00.001-07:00

A Week of Dad!

In order to commemorate the 1 year anniversary of my dad's death, and to celebrate his life, I bring you A Week of Dad!

Born in Greece, Dad moved to Canada in 1965. He only knew one word "Eggs" and he ate them for breakfast all the time, since he couldn't order anything else. He had his first meal at the Homestead restaurant, which he ended up buying.

It's pretty funny that a man who NEVER surfed the internet, never had an email address, didn't even know what Google was, is now posted on a blog for anyone to see. In fact, when I lived in Vancouver, my mum used to chat with me on MSN, and she tried to show it to my dad once, and he was pretty unimpressed, from what I hear, asking how she knew it was really me.

'Dad'ism of the Day: If you don't have at least $5.00 on you, the police can and will arrest you for vagrancy. Hence you must always have some "Walking around Money" in your wallet.

2007-07-16T20:11:00.000-07:00

MONDAYS

If I had a look that expressed how I felt about Mondays it would be like Portia's face in the above photo.

My coolant light came on again
I overslept by THREE HOURS
I had to park 3 blocks from work
I couldn't find the missing docs
I forgot my massage therapy appointment
I didn't bring a lunch

Sigh.

2007-07-13T21:23:00.000-07:00

Did it Self!
When my nephew was younger, if he wanted to do something on his own, instead of having help, he would proclaim "do it self!!" very loudly.

Well I'm proud to say that about my garden gate! Did it self!

Dad made me a fence for my garden, as Portia likes to eat plants, flowers, grass, weeds, plant food. . . you know. But he never put the gate up. Dad was really good at starting projects, but sometimes lacked the follow thru needed to fully complete a project. Especially the tiny finishing details.

And a year passed. And another.

And then Dad got sick. And then he passed away. . . .

So, I told myself it was time to do it self! I could install a garden gate! I found a half open bag of hardware in the garage! I have a math degree for crying out loud!

But I couldn't make the pieces fit. And neither could mum. So I took a picture of my gate, and my bag of hardware and went to the home depot! Turns out, I was missing pieces, and the gentleman there showed me what the finished product should look like!

So I went home and put it up! I was so proud of myself, I could have burst! I called my mum all giddy, "I did it! I put the gate up!"

Heck, it's been two weeks, and I'm still proud! I pull the curtain up on the window everyday and look at!

2007-07-03T20:52:00.000-07:00

Portia, No!

She did it again. She went ape-shit and attacked Rocky over the broken crumbs of some dog cookie. It's like she's back in the wild and if she doesn't get that crumb, she will starve to death, on the spot, and keel over.
Jenge tried to grab her and failed. I am generally the muscle in this situation as a) I have no fear of getting in the midst of a fight (sorry, mum, don't want to worry you, but it's true) and b) I will grab whatever part of a dog I can and pull it to break the fight up, while walking away with said part of a dog clutched in my grasp. Jenge always tries to go for the collar or the waist. I do not waste time trying to get such a grip. I've learned you can pull a 50lb malamute off a 22lb sheltie as long as you have part of an ear and a tail. And a tail is usually all you can grab. And then she gets put in her kennel for an hour and ignored (as instructed by my vet who said "Be decisive!! Be in control! And don't fall for crying!!" My lip quivered and I sniffed and said, "okay.")

Mum says I should find some nice place in the country for her, and that she's too big. But she's my baby and I love her!! She only goes ape-shit once every six months or so and just when you have forgotten the last time, she does it again.

Poor Rocky. He's been hiding in Jenge's room most of the night.

It's time to go back to the Dog Whisperer, Larry, and see what he has to say.

2007-07-01T22:58:00.000-07:00

A Tale No One Would Believe. . .

So I was up late watching national geographic and they were doing this special on this aquarium in California. Beautiful, huge glass walls showcase marine life.
One of the things they talked about were the sea otters. And they showed them playfully cavorting in the bay. They also showed them rolling themselves in kelp so they can have their morning nap without drifting out to sea. . .
And then they started talking about how the sea otter, having previously bounced back from extinction, was now declining again. So they wanted to track them. They wanted to know how often they dove for food, how long were they staying under, and how deep did they have to go.
The only way to do this, apparently, was to implant them with a data mining device!
So, as the sea otter is happily rolling him self in preparation of his morning nap, divers are far beneath him, with special breath apparatus that recycles the air so they don't release bubbles. And then with jumbo sized nets, they scoop the otters up! Stuff them in a kennel! Drive them on a truck to the vets! Knock them out! Implant the device! And put them back in the ocean!

This got me thinking. Is this the sea otter equivalent of getting kidnapped by aliens? Imagine this conversation. . .
Sea Otter 1: I'm telling you! I was minding my own business and then outta no where, I was taken! stuffed in a box and put on some large machine! It moved over land as fast as we move in water! and there were bright lights! And strange sounds! and they put me on a steel table and I'm telling you, they put something in me!
Sea Otter 2: Sounds like someone had too much kelp last night.
Sea Otter 1: I have a scar! A scar to prove it!
Sea Otter 2: Bob, c'mon, you probably ran into a rock again like you did back in '95.
Sea Otter 1 (aka Bob): I can't eat! I can't sleep! I know they are coming back. . . .

Sadly, Bob is right as after a while, they must capture the same sea otter again and take the data mining device out so they can download the data. Poor Bob! Kidnapped by humans and no one believes him.

2007-06-21T07:01:00.000-07:00

Death, Decay and Madness - Yes please!
I came home the other day and was looking for something to watch on the telly to kill some time. I finally found, "The Tomb of Ligeia" (which I've seen before) staring Vincent Price, based on an Edgar Allan Poe story. Let me tell you, as soon as I see the name Vincent Price combined with "Based on Edgar Allan Poe" I'm flipping in immediately. I loved "The House of Usher." It occured to me that I loved this sort of Gothic horror the best, so I wikipedia-ed it:
(from wiki):
Prominent features of gothic fiction include terror (both psychological and physical), mystery, the supernatural, ghosts, haunted houses and Gothic architecture, castles, darkness, death, decay, doubles, madness, secrets and hereditary curses.
The stock characters of gothic fiction include tyrants, villains, bandits, maniacs, Byronic heroes, persecuted maidens, femmes fatales, madwomen, magicians, vampires, werewolves, monsters, demons, revenants, ghosts, perambulating skeletons, the Wandering Jew and the Devil himself.
Important ideas concerning and regarding the Gothic include: Anti-Catholicism, especially criticism of Roman Catholic excesses such as the Inquisition (in southern European countries such as Italy and Spain); romanticism of an ancient Medieval past; melodrama; and parody (including self-parody).

Seriously, does it get any better??

2007-06-16T09:17:00.000-07:00

In the Wee Small Hours of the Morning

Okay, I'm a night owl, so anything before 10am technically classifies as the wee small hours of the morning. Since January, I've had a heck of time waking up. My alarm goes off at 6.15 - if I'm lucky, I'll hear it and get out of bed before my alphabetically organized CD hits songs that start with S.If I'm not lucky, I wake up to silence meaning I have slept through the entire thing. And if I'm really not lucky, I wake up to Jenge standing at my door saying, "Hey, it's 7.45. Are you going into work today??"

So Jenge has been my last resort backup. But she's a teacher and about start holidays in July. Who's gonna get Evil Margarita out of bed (because, dear reader, it's evil Margarita who's in charge that early in the morning and she DOESN'T CARE).

Maybe I can rely on the puppies to wake me up!

I'm so screwed.

2007-06-11T18:40:00.000-07:00

I wouldn't have to look at you this way if you just did what you were told

2007-06-10T14:56:00.000-07:00

Jealous, I say!
Now, I have a strict "No lying to the doctor" policy, but Dr. Usual was on vacation so I was seeing Dr. Other Guy and I wasn't quite sure that my no lie policy had extended coverage to him. So when he asked me, "How much coffee do you drink?" I said, "I have a cup in the morning."

Which wasn't a lie, per se. I mean, I do have a cup in the morning. Followed by a second cup. Followed by a cup at work, and then maybe some in the evening. . . . Not that he asked ANY follow up questions to my 'cup in the morning' answer.

See, I KNEW what he would say as soon as I told him how much coffee I drink. He'd immediately jump to the conclusion that it was the source of all my troubles. But I've ALWAYS had that much coffee. In fact, I've actually cut back over the last couple of years from my all time high of 7-8 cups a day, chased by 3-4 shots of espresso. So I KNOW that's not my problem. But doctor's don't care how much you know you're body. They will immediately JUMP to the conclusion that coffee is to blame.

And it's not!! They, along with my chiropractor and a select few holistic peeps I know, are jealous of the amount of coffee I can drink in a day and not suffer from jitters, shakiness, nor insomnia. I do suffer from the occasional bout of insomnia, but it CANNOT be traced back to my coffee habit. If anything, it's the nights that I dont' get to relax with a cuppa joe in front of the telly that I toss and turn.

Green with jealousy.

2007-06-06T20:04:00.000-07:00

You can lead a horse to water. . . .

It was getting out of hand. I was starting to change my daily plans to make allowances. I was changing what I drank, when I drank it and how much. Because I never knew when it would strike! Oh sure, I could have gone to the doctor weeks ago, I mean, I should have gone right back after I had my allergic reaction to antibiotics before finishing the full course. But I HATE going to the doctor. I'm one of those people that hopes it will all go away. Generally, by the time I tell my doctor I have a problem, it's been going on for years! But now my coffee habits were getting shifted. I was starting to cut back. shudder.

All because I was afraid!! Afraid I would be trapped somewhere and have to pee!!

It was happening all the time!! It was ruining my days, my nights. My coworkers prolly thought I had developed a savage cocaine habit as I was off to the loo every hour on the hour. I could barely make my commute, even in good weather. I had to plan everything around whether there would be a bathroom close by and how much water/coffee I had had to drink.

But I finally made it to my doctor's office today. And then!! Oh the irony!! The twisted cruelty of it all!!

Shy bladder!!

I waited, and waited. Surely, I would have to pee sometime. I specifically drank extra for just such an occasion. La La la, should I get up and turn the tap on. Ack! No can do! someone else just came in. La La La. . . It was a no go. Foiled by my own body.

I had to go back into the doctors' office, my head hung in shame. I had cracked (or rather, I hadn't cracked) under the pressure. There was a five year old getting the same test done. She had no problems. Cruel world.

So they plied me with two extra large glasses of water and I plunked myself down in the waiting room. And waited. And waited. and waited. I was determined!! I was NOT LEAVING UNTIL I SUCEEDED!!

Half an hour later, I had enough 'success' for a test to be run. It was inconclusive. Fascists. Now I have to go for more tests. . . .

2007-05-29T22:06:00.000-07:00

This time last year. . .

. . . it was just starting to all go to shit. Seriously. Mum's sister had just passed away and Mum was just about to return from Nova Scotia where she had been with the rest of her family during the last days. We were planning our trip to Cape Breton in October since it had been a LONG time since I had been down east. I was finally gonna see the fall colors of Cabot Trail. Then in June we got a call that mum's brother, Carmie, was in the hospital. So we moved our trip up. Jenge and I each juggled to see if both of us could go. In the end, Jenge couldn't leave work, but it was actually a good time for me. Ann, Mum and I were off to Cape Breton. Then we got the call that Carmie had died. Then Darren, my bro-in-law, got in a car accident and Ann had to cancel. Mum and I went to the funeral down east. Then Jenge called, Dad was sick and in the hospital again. We came home, Dad got out of the hospital. Then Dad went back in the hospital. Then Dad died. And that was that.

You hear alot of platitudes during a time like that. Everything happens for a reason, time heals all, it was his/her/their time. Everyone means well. Everyone wants to be able to say something to you that will make you feel better. And you lie and tell them that they are right, and that their words help, that what they say is true. But really, it's all kinda bullshit, isn't it? I mean we've all been through muck and was there ever anything that anyone said to you that made you feel better about it? Prolly not. But we all keep on keepin on.

2007-05-28T18:19:00.000-07:00

Another Day in Doggyland

The emails went like this:

*************************************

From: "Jennifer"

To: "Margarita"

Subject: portia

Date: Mon, 28 May 2007 13:05:51

Just wondering what the doggie movie of the day was at Portia's puppy daycare. - Jenn

P.S I hope that cupcake biscuit was a dog biscuit because I gave it to the Sock at lunch.
**************************************

From: "Margarita"

To: "Jennifer"

Subject: Re:Portia

Sent: Mon 5/28/2007 14:50:17

OMG, are you joking!! or are you serious!! that cupcake thing was a bathbomb! Are you joking!! I can't tell! Gita

********************************************************************************

From: "Jennifer"
To: "Margarita"
Subject: Re:Re:portia
Date: Mon, 28 May 2007 15:05:01

No, i'm not joking. Why would they make a bath bomb look like a cupcake? I've gotta go
***************************************************************************
Rest assured, dear readers, the sock is fine

2007-05-28T06:58:00.000-07:00

CSI:Mummy

I can't remember if I've blogged about this already or not and since I only got about 3 hrs sleep last night I'm just gonna assume that I haven't.

There's a pic of my favourite counter surfer, Portiacakes. She regularly saddles up to the counter and checks to see if we've left anything in the Portia-zone. We usually now scare her off by placing some un-set mousetraps on the edge (she's terrified of them) but recently, I forgot to put them back. Fast forward to 4am Saturday morning when someone started horking up something strange. Although squicked out by puke (I mean, who isn't!) as a mum, I need to know what made my baby throw up! Was it the new food? Did she accidentally eat some weeds that I sprayed in the backyard? Has she found something that could really hurt her?

The answer is usually she got something she wasn't supposed to get, and while it made her sick, it's not harmful. But I can't help feeling a little like a CSI as I try to figure out what was in her tummy. On Saturday, I could regularly identify the remains of a milkshake cup from the Marble Slab but there was something else in her tummy that I couldn' t figure out and it's been bugging me since.

Until I sat down at the computer this morning and Portiacakes came to join me in the office. She immediately went to the corner and started pulling apart something. I snatched it away from the Jaws of Death and have my 4am mystery solved. What was it that Portia had eaten in addition to a plastic milkshake cup, you ask?

A White crayon.

Another mystery solved by your local CSI Mummy.

2007-05-25T09:45:00.000-07:00

Time for a new to-do list!

Gang, I gotta pile of stuff to work on and I'm not gettin' any of it done. It's time for a list!!

1. Go to home depot and get that waterproofy tape stuff as my shower head sprays water all over while I'm in there. Place is soaked by the time I get out, and I only take about 8 minutes in there!
2. Paint downstairs bathroom. This one has been on the burner since before Dad died. Naturally, I got sidetracked at that point and kinda forgot about it but now it's back on the menu!
3. Call 1-800 Got Junk and clean out the house. Seriously, how is it I own half this stuff??
4. Work on my book! Ashleigh has been sending me her installments and I've been lax in sending her my stuff as I decided to change my plot (why I waited till page 204 to do this is a mystery but there you have it!)
5. Put laundry away. This one should be a no-brainer and yet there it sits. All clean and in the basket.
6. Get some work done - I'm at home today and the work is in my car. Must get it out and get to it. I have responded to some emails but must get serious!!
7. Clean kitchen. Sigh. Kitchen. Things are desperate down there.
8. Call Sears about cleaning vents.
9. Figure out what parts I need to do maitenance on house humidifier
10. Call Shaw and order greek channel! Wait, I have the bill right here, I can call right now!!

I'll let you know how it all turns out!

2007-05-22T17:57:00.000-07:00

Life with Rocky
People who haven't met Rocky don't understand Rocky. What makes him bark? He can't possibly bark as much as you say. He can't be that high strung. You're making it up!!

Press Play, if you dare.

2007-05-15T15:22:00.000-07:00

It's official. . .I'm a bee-yatch . . .

So the other day, I was driving down Macleod Trail. I was way up by Avenida, you know - where the speedlimit is 80km/h. And this joker in front of me was doing 50 (FIFTY!! OMG!! - so annoying!) . So I was FINALLY able to find a gap in the fast moving traffic and pass them. As I did, I noticed a sign on their back passenger window that said "Jesus Saved Me" and I kid you not my immediate first thought was, "Oh yeah, well too bad he didn't teach you to DRIVE!! Moron!"

True story.

2007-05-10T06:47:00.000-07:00

Simple Life

One of Portia's favourite things to do is lie down on my bed and look out the window. I keep my curtians closed most of the time when I'm at home for the simple fact that I don't want the neighbors to see me in my house clothes (read: ratty old shorts and a tank top) but in the morning, before I go to work, I crank the curtains open for Portia. She loves it so much, that even if she is downstairs, once she hears the curtains she comes barrelling upstairs immediately. Then she carefully lies down with her front paws on my pillows, and rests her chin down, usually sticking her face through one of the openings in my iron headboard. And she starts watching. Her eyes flicker here and there, their attention being caught by a tree blowing in the wind, or a car on the way to work. I think she spends most of her day up there (judging by the amount of dog fur I find on my bed). And sometimes, when I come home, as I enter the laundry room, I hear a frantic scrambling and thumping as she launches herself off my bed and comes crashing downstairs to say hi to me. But once the hellos are over, it's back upstairs to the bed and the scenic view it offers.

2007-05-09T06:36:00.000-07:00

I've got a bee in my bonnet!
So, Jenge has been given the task by our Greek teacher of emailing students who are missing and telling them the homework. However, Jenge is extremely busy this month with swimming lessons at the school, the drama production and her own greek homework and last week, she missed a student. When said student showed up at Greek class and didn't have her homework done, she said it was because she didn't get an email from Jenge. And the teacher said that Jenge had to make extra sure she emailed everyone.

What?

Are you frakking kidding me? Those who are in the class KNOW that on an average week, we cover 4 pages in class. So if you miss, do the next 4 pages! If I miss, I dont' even ask Jenge or Ann what I missed, I just work ahead. So far, no troubles. Why? because I am a (semi) intelligent adult and realize that if I miss class, I'm responsible for ME!

And if YOU are missing class isn't it YOUR responsibility to find out what the homework was? Or work ahead? Are you telling me that you are 30-something years old and if someone doesn't email you to tell you EXACTLY what to do, you can't figure it out?? To me this is symptomatic of people not taking responsibility for themselves. Give me a break!!

2007-05-08T06:52:00.000-07:00

On the mend!

So, as some of you may know, I was felled by an extreme allergic reaction to some antibiotics starting about this time last week. I'm happy to report that I'm on the mend! Instead of looking like some mutant extra in a bad horror film on communicable diseases, I can now be looked at without small children screaming in horror. Oh, it was bad, mes amis! So bad! Even Jenge didn't want to look at me! I felt like my body had betrayed me! How could it mistake antibiotics that were helping us with some foreign invader sent to destroy us? And why did it wait until the second last dose to freak out? Who knows.

And if you see me out and about - try not to look at my feet or legs - they are still recovering.

2007-04-30T06:36:00.000-07:00

Like, no way!

There's a shortage of workers right now in Calgary. We're so booming that it's tough for retail businesses to get peeps to work for them. Consequently, we're tapping a younger and younger workforce. I had the longest checkout experience of my life last night at Safeway. My cashier was 15 at best, as was the courtesy clerk.

Being really thirsty, I had picked up a Snapple and when I got to the till, I asked her to scan it first so I could crack it open and start drinking it. The clerk said to me, "I like never wait to get it scanned. My boyfriend and I like open them like up, and then we like, drink half of it and then when we like get to the till, we're like, oh, do we have to like, pay for this? and they are always like, ya and we're like, well whatever. This one time we got, like, kicked out of the store and told, like, not to come back but we went back and she was, like, didn't I kick you out and we were like, uh I dunno, whatever!"

I kid you not. Then the cashier started talking about someone batting a light bulb and being afraid that it was going to fall and break on the bed and I swear to god, I didn't know if she was talking about her boyfriend or her cat until she summed up the entire story with:

"Sigh - Boys are, like, soooooooo stupid."

And they wouldn't stop talking to me. Even as I was trying to grab my receipt and walk away. I swear she was holding it hostage.

Don't get me wrong, I've been known to still talk like a valley girl at my ripe old age of 31, but these girls. . . It was a whole different language with different social cues. As soon as one started talking about her boyfriend, the other one had to top that story. And then that story had to get topped and then they would look at each other with partially blank stares. And I wanted to reach over and start scanning my own groceries.

Longest checkout experience of my life!

2007-04-23T06:06:00.000-07:00

Spring has Sprung

Forget the Farmer's almanac. Pay no attention to the ground hog. Don't listen to the meteorologist. The best indication that spring is finally here has officially happened!

Portia has started 'blowing' her coat.

That's what it's called when a dog starts losing thier winter undercoat due to warmer weather. Last night, Portia and I sat down for her groomies (which she LOVES!!) and instead of the usual ten minutes, it took me almost thirty! I kept getting more and more hair - the thick, dense white fluffy hair underneath her multicolored fur. I came away with enough to build a whole other Portia!

Rocky has no coat to blow since Jenge got him trimmed short for summer when we came back from Mexico. That's his new haircut to the left. Doesn't he look sharp?