Oh C'Mon Now

Was 2009 really as bad as everyone is writing? I have seen endless blog posts bitching and moaning about how horrible 2009 was and I just gotta say, really? Am I the only one on the planet who thought 2009 was pretty darn ok?

I'm not doing a long recap, a best and worst list, or a resolution run-down. But I will say this; in 2009 our home was built, I met a woman who became one of my closest friends, I knew about her pregnancy before her parents, I watched another close friend fall in love, I agreed to run a half marathon with my sister, I saw my brother become a dad, I got a promotion of sorts, I watched my little girl become a big girl and start grade one, I bit off more than I could chew but bit anyway, I took mck canoeing and she loved it, and I may very well have found the cure for my thin and oft-breaking hair.

Yeah, there were crappy things that happened, of course. But why worry about them? Onwards and upwards. Happy new year. Here's to an even wickeder (today, its a word) year ahead.

Gaining Strength

So I'm sitting here watching the Star Trek movie and, um, well, can't exactly get into it. Its like the Dark Knight, lots of hype, not a lot of substance. So here I am, writing instead, confident that each time I look up, I'll be right caught up in a jif.

I ran yesterday. Did nearly 5k. It took a bit but its a start, and a good start considering my end point. I'm a touch sore today but its a good sore.

I got a haircut the other day. Had a guy I liked enough to actually take his card and his advice. We chatted a bit about my thin fine hair and what I could do to stop it from being so brittle and breaking/falling out with such frequency. He mentioned keratin, omega 3's, and agreed with my flax seed assessment. He also suggested a treatment with an advanced repair serum. It made alot more sense than the previous advice I had been given which both contradicted itself and consequently never worked. So today I listened to Anthony and bought Flax Oil Pills with Omega 3's in there for strength and shine and got a conditioner specifically for breakage repair. Should this fall into the same category of "epic hair fail" I will go back and get the keratin spray-in thingy that was uber expensive but quite possibly worth its weight in gold.

I'm in the process of organizing the basement, a feat which involves poring through our boxes of camping gear that have been either picked apart or completely ignored for the last year. It will be so nice to have all of the sleeping bags out and fluffing, all of the packs out and breathing, all of the gadgets and gizmos and mini cheese graters and toasters and down booties all right at my fingertips, all ready to be packed at a moments notice. Ahhhh. Can't wait.

Well. Some things blew up. Some people died. Spock and Kirk are still around. Suprise.

How Cliche

Tonight we went out for supper and then decided to drive around and find some spectacular christmas lights for mck to look at. As we drove she started singing christmas carols and insisted that we sing with her. Yes. That was us. Driving around looking at lights and singing carols. It would almost be Lifetime Movie/Hallmark Special worthy if we didn't substitute the word "halls" for "farts", "reindeer" for "poo-smear" and drag out the ass in christmASS.

Things She Says That I'm Pretty Sure Are My Fault

So one day in the car, for one reason or another, McK and I made up a little ditty. Each time we sang it we added a little something to the end in the form of a Wooooooo and then a fake burp. The fake burp evolved into a funny little noise that sounds like someone with a very highpitched voice saying the word "MEEP".

Now sometime days later when we suddenly remember the words or the tune or we heard just the right burp, we would begin anew, singing our respective parts. And for some reason we both seem to love the word meep. So I started using the word in random sentences, giving the word "meep" a variety of meanings. Tonight, out of the deepest darkest blue, she threw out my favorite one, the one that made us laugh and laugh and laugh when I said it and laugh and laugh and laugh that silent-can;t-hardly-breathe laugh when SHE said it.

Imagine if you will, a six year old, taking on the voice and personality of a construction worker...and then she spits this one out:

"Hey lady, nice meeps!"

I should stop teaching her this shit.

No Thanks, I'm In Training

So my sister just agreed to train for a half marathon. In telling me about it, her excitement was apparently contagious because the next thing I know I have asked her to send me her training regiment for perusal. I read it, it seemed do-able and voila, I too, am about to embark on training for a half marathon. In May. Oh man.

She put together a plan that begins Feb 7 (so I have till then to either live it up or start to get myself on track) and goes until May 30, the BIG DAY. She is about to work on a nutrition plan for the same time period. I have never stuck with a plan but I think its because I have never had a tangible GOAL before. Sure, theres "get fit", "lose weight", "fit into those jeans", but no real EVENT wherein the result is based solely on how much I commit to the next 5 months. Like Joey said on Blossom, "WHOA!".

I'm pretty pumped. Not so much that I'm having a protien shake for breakfast and a power bar for lunch, lets not go crazy just yet, but pumped nonetheless.

Is This What Its Like?

Tonight I am waiting for Pat to get home from a night out with work folk. I believe it was set to be a somewhat rowdy evening but know his intentions were to sneak away at some point and not be home too late.

Normally I would just hit the sack and not worry about seeing him till morning. However. I do not think he has his house keys. In fact, I'm fairly certain he does not. Which means only one thing. He will knock at the door when he gets home. And I'll need to hear it. Because I know there is NO WAY he'd ring the bell knowing mck was sleeping. So I will half sleep, waiting to hear a knock a storey below.

And before you even ask the question, no, he does not have a cell phone. There will be no call or desperate text alerting me to the fact that he's freezing on the front doorstep. Only the hope that through my wine-fueled slumber, I will hear him. Knock knock. Who's there?

Sometimes You Know JUST How To Piss Me Off

So we had an issue with one of the panels on our tri-panel shower door. Not a big deal, figured out who to call, made the appointment. Yesterday just before noon I called the company to try and get a better idea of when "the guy" might be coming. He said anywhere from within the next hour to within the next three hours. Hm. Ok. So I asked if I could get a half hour pre-call, just a heads up so I could scoot out of work and be there to let the guy in. Sure thing, he says, will do.

So I wait a bit. And I wait a bit more. And I decide to head towards home because surely I'll be getting that call soon. I decided to stop in at the paint store to pick up a can of paint and lo, I get the call. From the guy. In my driveway. I told him I was just grabbing a can of paint and would be there in ten minutes. Well. Mr.Guy could not wait. No siree. As much as he'd love to just sit in my driveway for ten minutes (his quote), he just couldn't spare the ten minutes. Apparently he had NO IDEA that he was supposed to call me when he was about half hour away and rather was told that I'd be there between noon and three to let him in whenever he decided to show up. I hung up on him.

I finished up at the paint store (which was a controlled debaucle in and of itself) and headed home to call the guy who arranged the repair. "Sometimes our repair guys have so much paperwork in their truck they miss these kind of instructions". Oh. Hey. Pal. I have SO MUCH paperwork on my desk but you know what happens when I miss something? Let's just say it doesn't always get rescheduled.

Anywho. He said the guy could come back tomorrow (today). I asked WHEN. Between noon and three? Cuz that's fine, I just need to know so I can actually, you know, BE HOME. Yes, he said, between noon and three. Should I get my hopes up for a pre-call? I asked. No, he said. Don't.

So today I came home at noon. And I waited. I waited and waited and thought "this guy is doing this on purpose, he's going to make me wait till its almost past three and I'm JUST about to call and complain". Sure enough. Not only was it passed two thirty but all of a sudden my phone rings. I got a half hour pre-call. Which means nothing considering I've been sitting at home SINCE NOON.

He showed up at five to three, was perfectly pleasant, fixed the door in about three minutes flat and was gone, not necessarily oblivious to the irritation he caused but certainly not caring.

Frick.

A Rose by Any Other Name

Yes, you're still in the right place. Just suddenly had the urge to make a change and realized I missed the old blog name. It was me. Right from the beginning. So why muck about with a good thing. I'll be changing the address soon. It'll be back to good old mothernaturesdaughter. Just gotta figure out how to do it without deleting the OLD one. Like it?

A Very Very Merry Un Birthday To You!

Its Pat's 40th this coming February. He doesn't want a big party. Hes never been one for fuss on a birthday. He's not the type to care that this is considered a "milestone" year. He doesn't want any presents. He's not into big social gatherings. And thats just who he is. Unfortunately for him, thats just not who I am. Haha. Just kidding dear. Maybe. Just kidding. Theres no party. Just kidding there is. Just kidding there isn't. Just kidding I rented out a huge hall for you. Just kidding its a small dinner at home. Just kidding we're taking everyone to the Whiteshell with us. Just kidding I didn't invite a soul. Just kidding everyone at your work knows. Just kidding only 30 of them do. Just kidding none of them cared. Just kidding they all cared and they all want to party. Just kidding I didn't talk to anyone. Just kidding even my uncle from England is coming. Just kidding he hates you. Just kidding he adores you and can't wait to meet you on your birthday. Just kidding we're going there. Just kidding I don't have enough airmiles. Just kidding I do. Just kidding I don't. Just kidding theres no party at all. Just kidding there is but its just you, me, and mck. Just kidding the second she heard the word party she's been non-stop telling people. Just kidding I never told her. Just kidding I did and shes saving her pennies and picking out a dress. Just kidding shes not saving anything. Just kidding she wants to cook you dinner herself. Just kidding she loves eating out as much as I do. Just kidding I hired a chef to cook for us. Just kidding I hired a whole company to cater the party. Just kidding its a potluck. Just kidding I'd never do that to you. Just kidding I would but not for your birthday. Just kidding theres no food at the party. Just kidding there is but its all in the form of jello shooters. Just kidding thats what all your work buddies wanted. Just kidding they could care less if there was jello. Just kidding they'd love jello if it involved wrestling. Just kidding I didn't tell your work buddies. Just kidding I did. Just kidding I only told family. Just kidding I told everyone I know. Just kidding I would never do that to you. Just kidding I would. Just kidding I didn't so don't panic. Just kidding you may as well start panicking. Just kidding I will honor your wishes of no party, no gifts. Just kidding I won't. Just kidding its not a party its an EVENT. Just kidding its not.

Worried yet dear??

Things That Crossed My Mind Today

What am I going to do when McK is old enough not just to read this but to understand it?

How much more do I need to get Mck for Christmas? Does she care?

What kind of a discount would they give a parttimer working at the new North Face store?

Is it weird to REALLY want to go for ice cream when, with the windchill, its minus 37 celcius?

Why are there not very many really good breakfast joints in the city? And by really good I mean really cheap.

I curled McK's hair today for the Christmas Party. Luckily she didn't REALLY have the patience for it so I think I may get away with not having to do it often.

Why have we not used our Fort Whyte membership more often?

I HATE Best Buy and Future Shop. I know they are useful and possibly necessary but it doesn't make me hate them any less.

Old Navy has some good sales but why can't they just take the time to mark the tags with the sale prices. Hanging the paper above the rack is all good and fine until you find that one perfect thing and think its 50% off only to realize someone put it back in the wrong spot. That sucks.

If you're going to put a nice cozy fireplace in a McDonalds, don't you think a minus 40 degree morning warrants turning the damn thing on? We drove all the way to Charleswood for that bloody thing.

McKinley is going to be a good driver.

You see people differently when they're with their kids. Especially work people.

I work for a really good company.

Is 600 bucks too much for a two way car starter when its as cold as it has been? I don't think so.

I am going back to work tomorrow after being off sick for 4 days. I feel as sick as I did last week but feel bad taking anymore time off.

My kid is so beautiful. But that thought is not exclusive to today.

Sick N Stuff

I'm sick with a cold that involves a sore throat that comes and goes, some random coughing outbursts and continuous nose blowing. Its not a pretty sight. Every night at ten thirty my body shuts down like it just drank a caseload of neo citran and I wake up feeling like I have a breakfast date with death. By about ten a.m. I usually feel a little better and have a roughly 4 hour window to get a crapload of work done before I slowly witness my own crash and begin my evening downward spiral.

On a lighter note, the Disney Princess girls are coming to town and I snagged tickets with the advance purchase password. Sometimes, even when I'm sick, I'm so awesome its shocking. McK? Will PASS OUT.

The Ways in Which Dollarama Surprises, Nay, Pleases Me....

So D-rama has given me a little shockeroonie as of late. Basically I am FLOORED at the amount of decent shit they can sell for a buck or two. Some examples, you ask? Why, certainly.

- ENDLESS Disney Princess paraphernalia. I mean ENDLESS. And ever changing. Birthdays and Christmases have never been so pink.

- Winter accessories. Surplus supply of fleece gloves and scarves and toques for the kid. The ONE PLACE where I buy toques for Pat. My best discovery was just today when I found loose knit cable toques in an array of colors that look wicked on me. Sweet. And if McK loses a glove (which she already has) its no big deal. Cuz it was A BUCK.

- They sell Dove products. Actual Dove skin and haircare products. My shampoo and mousse for 2 beans a pop. Well holy crappers. That beats 5 bones at S-Store. And todays latest find? A Dove spray for dry and staticy hair. Hello???? I bought it, tried it, love it, am buying one for mck to keep in her backpack (downside to her fleece toque, static head). 2 bucks people. 2.

- Crafts, crafts, crafts. When you have a kid who can use an entire bottle of glue on a toilet roll creation and paints on average 862 pictures a day, cheap craft supplies is where its at. And where its at? Is Dollarama.

- Greeting cards. Gone are the tacky, cheap looking, clearly-from-a-dollar-store cards. They now have some decent cards that may have even made me chuckle a time or two.

- Party supplies. Loot bags have never been so easy.

- Ziplocs, storage containers, hangers, shower curtains, table cloths, gift bags, and on and on and on....

The only really shitty thing about D-rama? Buying something somewhere else and then seeing it and Dollarama the next time you're there and realizing how much you clearly overpaid for it. Stings.

Rock It Out

Mck has requested Kevin Rudolf's Let It Rock again and again and again in the car this weekend. On our way home tonight I sat in the back with her only to learn that she also created a dance routine for the full song, done in complete seriousness. I learned the choreography with rapid speed and got to do the second half of the song with her. We rocked it out in the backseat of the Suzuki. Hardcore.

Oh I Am Certain it Will Come

My throat is a little sore. And by a little sore I mean it feels like a hairless spiky phlegm-covered animal has taken up residence in there.

I worried that I would have a crappy sleep tonight and all I could think about was how much I wanted a good sleep. And then I found it. The Neo Citran. I think the sleep will come. In fact, after choking that nasty shit down I am certain it will come.

Goodnight kids.

You Dirty Rat

Yesterday I laughed so hard I cried. Tears were taking away my mascara with the speed of a rushing river and my stomach ached and I couldn't breathe. It was one of those laughs where its so intense and gone on for so long that its silent, you can't even hear yourself laughing anymore.

And it was at someone elses expense. Go figure.

A friend of mine at work had been in a 4 hour conference call. Now, as most of us who have participated in conference calls know, you generally have one or two people who you message with throughout the call just to make them a tiny bit more bearable. My pal was messaging with a male colleague of hers from another province who was also on the call. Fast forward a few hours in and the gal presenting over the call had issues with her spreadsheet. She commented that it often occurs when someone else is in the same sheet or program. My pals friend messages her and says, "Haha, thats me, don't tell her!!"

Now let me preface this with saying that my pal is a very lovely, sweet, kind and normal gal. Shes very very funny and very very likeable. She is also 7 and a half months pregnant.

So in response to his fear that she would tell on him for meddling in the program and screwing it all up for the presenter, she decided to message him back.

This is what she thought she wrote: "Ha ha, I'm totally going to rat you out". She hit send and off it went.

Her blackberry has auto-spell which will see what you are about to type and finish off the word for you with the most logical word based on letters already typed or will flip your word into something else that it THINKS you MEANT to type.

It changed "rat" to "eat". Now just take a second to go back up and read her reply with the new word in it. Tell me you don't need tissue.

Pages Full of Words

Tomorrow I am buying a book. Its been awhile since I bought myself a new one. I've tried to get back in to the one or two that couldn't catch my attention before and I've come to realize that its not me, its them.

So tomorrow I am buying a book. I don't know which one, I never do until I see it and hold it and inspect the cover and the binding and flip the pages. I'm sure it'll be adventurous. And from some far off land. And I will bring it home, introduce it to my comfy reading chair, and lose myself in its pages full of words.

Confused and Speechless

Last night I went to see a movie with one of the hottest chicks in Winnipeg, everyones favorite Miss Quicksilver. We wandered in and as we paid for our tickets we spotted a rather gangly, rather awkward looking fellow up on the Dance Dance Revolution type arcade machine. We giggled and wondered why a fellow such as that might think that a movie theatre was the place to rock it out but thought not much more of it beyond that. However, as we passed him, making our way to the concession stand, something shiny caught my eye. Something gold and stripey made me look twice. They were running shoes. Fancy running shoes that not one, but TWO young men were wearing.

Now let me paint a picture for you. Once the shiny gold running shoes caught our eyes, we were naturally drawn upward to where not one, but TWO young men were sporting shorts and cut off tshirts. In November. In minus 3 degree celcius weather. In a movie theatre. On a thursday night. At 9:30. Adding to the curiosity of it all were the duffle bags they had. It was mesmerizing. What was going to come out of the duffle bags? Why were they in shorts? Why the fuck did their SHOES match?? I was staring so intently, trying to figure out how to take a picture discreetly and without a flash so as not to draw attention to myself, that didn't even notice when it was my turn to pay way too much for popcorn. I was hooked.

Suddenly, whislt getting straws and such, I smacked MissQ in the arm and said, ''Oh my good god they brought their own towels! They are wiping down the dance floor area with their own towels! Someone please explain this to me!"

It was disturbing and confusing and drawing a crowd of confused and disturbed looking people. No one knew quite what to do or say or think. Do you mock them? Heckle them? Cheer for them? What would they do, these shoe-matching, towel-toting young men? And then the music started.

It was like the rest of the world was suddenly blocked out. They were focused. They were intense. They were ready to Dance Dance like nobodies effing business. They stood there, reached their hands behind their bodies, grasped the bar (which I had assumed was their so that no one would fall off but apparenly its for balance??), and their gold lamme sneaks went crazy.

Their feet were on fire. Their brows glistened. They were in perfect unison. And it looked completely retarded. They danced like it was a perfectly normal thing to do at 9:30 on a thursday night. They danced like there was not a group of 10 eighteen year old boys staring at them, unable to process the scene, unable to even say anything rude or nasty because really? What was there to say. They danced like nobody was watching and like their lives depended on it. They danced like the really really bad dancers on the So You Think You Can Dance auditions who actually BELIEVE that they can indeed dance. And we could not think of a single thing to say. (ok, thats not entirely true. There were a few "What the fuck is that?" and "Holy crap thats messed up" 's thrown out there but thats it).

We stared and giggled and wandered off to our theatre and thought of nothing but roller derby for the next two hours. As we walked out of the theatre on a derby high, there they were. Still dancing. Only this time, much much sweatier. Well that explains the towels. Arms shiny, hair dripping, high scores flashing, still dancing. Thinking of it now, I still don't know exactly what to think of those two strange boys, in a movie theatre, on a thursday night, fully geared-up, for over 2 hours, dancing on a machine. Like I said to Miss Q after our first glimpse of the boys in action, it was like an episode of Degrassi gone bad.

Seeing Another Side

Today I saw another side to some people who often times seem pretty one dimensional. It was interesting. And refreshing.

Sometimes stodgy people are just really, really funny. Sometimes they make a whole room laugh. Sometimes they surprise you with their willingness to be silly and act goofy and look stupid in front of their peers. And sometimes they actually kind of know how to sing.

I laughed a lot this afternoon. I saw another side to someone who seemed like they just didn't have it in them. Refreshing.

Hey, I Know You

Do you ever have that moment of brief recognition? That snap second where you're pretty sure you know that person from somewhere and you actually remember where that somewhere is. Perhaps the name is familiar. Perhaps the face is familiar. Even the voice sometimes. But in that moment, you realize, ahhhhh THAT'S where I know you from.

And then there are the times you recognize a person but want to keep that recognition to yourself. That's the nice thing about a married name. They won't know who I am unless I tell them.

I met someone recently at a committee meeting. Her face was not familiar and it wasn't until our contact list circulated that I recognized the name. It was someone from elementary school, in my brothers grade, someone he never really hung out with. At all. And so I am stuck. Do I ask if she is THAT person? Do I risk the unecessary small talk? Will she grill me about family members? Is it worth the hassle? Or do I just carry on, not totally sure and not totally caring either way.

She's not seemingly someone I plan to get to know better, or add to Facebook, or put in touch with my brother. It would just give us that connection, that THING that makes the meetings a little less awkward and a little more cohesive. Or do I let the fact that we both love the thing we volunteer for so much be our common bond? I dunno.

Pick Me! Pick Me!

I'm so bad at picking favorites. I've had people ask me to pick my favorite this or my favorite that and inevitably, after much thought, I can sometimes narrow it down to top three. I hear other people throwing around their favorite band of all time or their one favorite meal they could eat forever and I just don't know how they do it. I can't even pick a favorite color!

Today a friend asked me what my all time fave band was. I couldn't even begin to compile a list, never mind pick ONE! Sensing that I was about to rattle off a list he opted to narrow it down for me. What was my fave band ten years ago. I did a little math in my head and was able to come up with an answer I was fairly confident in. Greenday. But only ten years ago and most certainly not my all time fave.

So I guess going forward if you want to know my fave something you'll need to be more specific. Fave movie STARRING ROBERT DeNIRO - The Score. Fave meal MADE ALMOST ENTIRELY OF CHEESE - my moms quiche. Fave song TO SING REALLY REALLY LOUD WITH IN THE CAR - I'm Your Man. Fave vehicle THAT I'VE OWNED - the sticker-mobile.

I guess I like too many things in a somewhat fickle, non-comittal kind of way. I attach things to my faves, like my fave boots for wearing with a skirt are not the same as my fave boots for wearing with leggings which are not the same as my fave boots for being in the snow which are not the same as my fave boots for puddle jumping...if I have that much trouble picking a favorite pair of boots, imagine forcing me to pick a favorite TV show? Reality or comedy? Documentary or drama? Who does that? Who can pick? Freaks of nature, that's who. And don't even get me STARTED trying to pick a favorite book. That would be like...well...like asking McK to pick a favorite princess!

Things I Must Admit

Lady GaGa can sing, her songs are all catchy and I like her.

I let McK sleep in my bed the last two nights. I shouldn't but she looks so cute and cozy.

I wish I had a pick up truck.

Adam Lambert's performance didn't bother me much at all. I knew he'd be the male GaGa and he was.

I can't wait for my father in law to move in to his new apartment strictly for the pool.

I'm not as patient as people think I am.

I love having cash in my wallet but never want to use it.

I told mck I'd put her in her bed once she fell asleep but I love looking at her too much to want to move her.

Rihanna really bothers me. Like, she bothers me the way Lady GaGa should.

I'm probably scoring a free and tasty lunch tomorrow when our new guy starts and all I can think is wow, there's so many other things I could do with that hour.

The Day The Cable Went Out

Tonight, rather randomly, at approximately 9:30 pm, our cable shut down. Normally not a bad thing to most people but we? Have a bundle. We have our phone, internet and tv through our cable company. So where one would naturally turn to the internet at a time like this, we couldn't. There was no one to call, nothing to watch, no site to surf. So what did we do prey tell? Why, we TALKED. Novel idea, no?

Dear Annoying Person (That Means You)

Dear Squeaky Voice Crazy Lady,
Just because I planned something and the person who asked for it to be done doesn't remember asking, doesn't mean I went ahead and did it without their authorization. I'm not a moron. That would be you. And when I hold my fingers to my head like a gun and pretend to blow my head off, well, I don't REALLY want to die, it just feels like I AM when you talk to me. Secretly, I give you the finger all day long.

Dear Target Lady Haircut,
Its so obvious that you have zero self confidence. The volume of your voice does not necessarily reflect that but you're too transparent not to see right through you. You're not cute. You're not funny. You're obnoxious and clearly raised by wolves who never told you that chewing on food loudly while you talk is disgusting.

Dear Twenty-Something Emo,
I get that it must suck that no other retail establishment would hire you. But accepting a cashier position at Walmart does not mean you let go of all your sensibilities. Why would you pack a bag of chips in with 2 jugs of milk? I realize that your mind is wandering over to that brooding, quirky-yet-pretty cashier at till 1 but come on now. Don't leave your common sense in the lunch room.

Dear Really Really Old Waitress,
He's really really fat. I see it. You see it. Everyone sees it. So why would you park him at a booth when the rest of the joint is empty? Give the dude a chair. Seeing him wedged between the booth seat and the table edge makes me feel bad for the guy. And makes me think your skinny little ass enjoys it.

Dear Lazy Doesn't Work A Lot,
When will you start to realize that the people who work around you work WITH you, not FOR you? When I email you a question, please refrain from turning it into something that I am now keeping track of for you. Because I? Am not a sucker. Sorry to disappoint.

Dear Creepy Finance Dude,
The way you hover around makes everyone feel like they need a shower once you're gone. Peering at people over the rim of your glasses perched on your nose also does nothing to further your cause. You've mastered the creep. Also, talking to me like you're flabbergasted that I might actually a) make sense or b) not have an effing clue what you're talking about makes me want to punch you right in the face. You're on the list pal.

Still In Love

I got a netbook yesterday. I had it all confirgured today to work with our wireless account at home. It all worked tickety-boo. And yet, here I am, writing my post on the blackberry. I don't know what it is that made me pick up the old girl and start typing. Is it force of habit? The fact that I can be completely horizontal while writing? The speed at which I have grown able to type? The fact that my bb will put periods at the end of my sentences for me with one click? Or maybe, even with a flashy new shiny red toy, I still love my sweet, unassuming little blackberry?

Or maybe the battery died on the netbook. Whichever.

Sometimes....

...I say yes when I should have said no

...I don't realize this till its too late and I'm knee deep in someone elses paperwork

...my boss surprises me

...I expect too much from people and then end up disappointed

...one email is all it would take

...I wish I had more time in my day

...I wish I knew how to fix it

...there's just nothing you can do

...you just have to figure out who to ask

...its hard to feel important when you don't feel like you are

...I am slack at seeing people that deserve my time and still need to work on that

...I am spoiled by wonderful women who bring lunch to ME

...I just sit and wonder

...thinking is a bad idea

...all I need is a good book

...I really have nothing to write a blog post about and instead I write this

Do Blondes Really Have More Fun?

The leading role. Brooding, conflicted, a little angry, a little rebellious, and always blonde. I suppose in the eyes of a casting director it was what the part called for. But more often than not, the brown-haired-in-the-shadows-everyones-best-friend ends up fast becoming the star of the show. Call it rooting for the underdog, I don't know, but the brainy/geeky/not as athletic/second stringer is usually the guy who ends up with the girl/the scholarship/the accolades.

Case in point. Dawson vs Pacey. No contest. Pacey. Ryan vs Seth. Hands down. Seth. Lucas vs Nathan. Please. Perhaps a more level playing field but still, Nathan.

I think there is perhaps only one show where the blondie beats the pants off the brunette. But in thinking about it now I see that maybe its NOT the hair color after all. Maybe its the level of percieved importance attached to that particular role? In this case, the brunette is intended to have the more prominent role which lends itself to one naturally and automatically favoring the blonde. Noel vs Ben. Doesn't even need a nanosecond of thought. Ben.

Side Note: when I watch Felicity and Julie is on, all I think of when I see her is that she used to be a Power Ranger and I can't take her seriously. Just me?

Chickens on a Plane

I tell you this story not to deter you from flying, but rather to remind you to count your blessings about the kind of passengers you may have ended up sitting beside in your travels. Because this one? Will surely take the cake.

My friend just got back from Vegas. It was a trip that, being over seven months pregnant, didn't really live up to its expectations. But sometimes when a trip starts off on a bad foot, there's just no turning back. Rewind to getting on the plane, leaving Winnipeg. Sitting comfortably beside her hubby. And then he wanders in. A 52 year old man who's odor arrived just seconds later. How did she know he was 52 you ask? Why, he TOLD her of course. So the 52 year old man who had not showered in about a week sat down next to the olfactory-gland-challenged pregnant lady. Nice.

Now. What a treat she had in store. Because not only did his BODY come with odor, but so did his breath! And how boring would bad breath be if the owner of the bad breath wasn't a close-talker?? Cue the close-talker! Imagine if you will, airplane seats. The proximity of person-to-person. The availability of "personal space". Its limited, no? No. Not to the 52 year old, stinky breath, body odor man. He leaned his stinky self right on over into her personal space. But wait. Its gets better.

So Preggo is one of those women who has a hard time being nasty, has difficulty saying no, can't really be mean without some coaching (where I usually step in to assist). So Stinky 52 is all leaning up into her biznizz and chatting her up about this and that and then she sees it. The spit. The spit that comes flying out of his mouth when he talks. It comes flying out and lands on her arm. ON HER ARM. Where it glistens in the sun and he just keeps talking. Casually, she wipes it away and tries to turn her attention to her TV. She pops in her ear phones and realizes that HE IS WATCHING HER TV TOO. Even though he has his own. Creep-eee. She hears him nattering away and in her politeness pulls out an earbud to hear what Stinky 52 is saying and that's all it takes.

Enter worst-conversation-ever. Stinky 52 starts to tell Preggo all about his dislike for airplane food. Its no good. Its too expensive. Its like cardboard. But he has a fix. He brings his own. Oh good, preggo thinks, maybe he'll shove his yap full of a self-concocted trail mix and be quiet for a bit.

"You know what I do?" Stinky 52 asks Preggo. "I fry up two chickens and bring them with me."

Oh please no, she thinks, for the love of all things airborne, no. He bends down to his carry on stowed neatly in the underseat compartment in front of him and proudly pulls out a tupperware container. Full of chicken. Yes. Chicken. Fried, greasy, homemade chicken. At ten in the morning. Because heaven forbid you just shut up and take the pretzels.

So now Stinky 52 is eating his greasy, white-ish chicken and waving his greasy, disgusting fingers around, talking with his greasy, chicken-flavoured breath and Preggo is just about to die. She lays back and pretends to sleep for an hour, one eye open to try and catch some of her in-flight movie without getting busted by Greasy Stinky 52. Her hubby, to his credit, offered to switch seats with her. But being the sweet gal she is, she declined, saying it "wasn't that bad". ON WHAT PLANET??

And so ended the longest two hours of Preggo's life. So please, when you're next to a crying baby, or a snorer, or an incessant talker, please remember, it could always be worse. You could find yourself sitting next to your OWN Greasy Stinky 52 wondering how the hell you can get two chickens past security.

How Do Anorexics Do It?

So I pretty much half-died this weekend. I'm only just getting over being out of commission. I have not been in such utter discomfort since....I don't know when. My umbilical hernia was different cuz that was just straight PAIN. And giving birth to Mck was a mix of pain and discomfort quickly soothed with a long needle to the spine. But this weekend? I writhed within myself. I needed out of my own skin. I did not know how to be comfortable. This was very very new to me.

I guess it was a bug, or a stomach flu, or some food poisoning. I don't know. I just know it snuck in on Friday night and only just left a few minutes ago. I managed to still get things done during the day yesterday though I'm not sure how because every fiber of my being, every ounce of my concentration was spent making sure I did not throw up on the cashier at Dollarama or on the side of the road or anywhere else for that matter.

I bought Gravol. Paid a little extra for the fast acting/long lasting ones. I'm not sure what their version of fast acting is. I don't think its quite the same as mine. See, MY version of fast acting would be me feeling decent by the time we got to the Santa Clause Parade. Didn't happen. I actually was pretty certain I was going to toss right there on Portage Avenue. I kept having to go sit down along the side road just to focus myself and get the nausea under control. I DID, however, make sure I was standing with McK when Santa went by. Couldn't miss THAT.

The drive back home was debilitating. I wouldn't even let them stop to get themselves food. I needed out of the moving vehicle, pronto. Home, James. I weebled and I wobbled (and I very nearly fell down) and eventually I passed out on the couch and woke up to die. Then I passed out in my room and woke up to die. Then I passed out in my bed and woke up to Saturday Night Live (who WAS that hosting??) And then I died.

It was a slow, agonizing night in which there was but one position that didn't leave me feeling like tiny little people were tearing out my stomach lining and trying to shove it up my throat. So I stayed in that position, naturally, all night long. Which resulted in neck pain, shoulder pain, and head pain. A small price for a few hours of nausea-free slumber.

Today? Today was so-so. I have never been more hungry yet more afraid to eat. Like an anorexic at a candy store. I have never been more desperate for a flavored beveraged, or stared so longingly at a bottle of pepsi. And milk. Oh sweet sweet milk. I'm sorry for ignoring you all weekend. It wasn't my intention. I wanted you, I swear, so badly. I wanted you on cereal, with chocolate, for my cookies, with cheese on toast. But I couldn't. I just couldn't face the idea of how you would end up. I want to remember you the way I love you, not the curdled mess I knew you would become.

So I had toast. With water. And a popsicle. With water. And a peanut butter sandwich. With water. And I? Am one crazy hungry chick. Tomorrow, dear belly, tomorrow.

Ghost Shmost - or The Night I Watched Paranormal Activity

Tonight Pat insisted on watching a scary movie. I have not been a fan of scary movies since approximately the day I brought mck home from the hospital. But I'd heard this one was more of a psychological thriller, a mind tease that never showed a demon, not a drop of blood or a second of gore. So I agreed. Reluctantly.

I lasted about half an hour. I didn't mind the daytime scenes where they chatted it up but the night time filming? Creeped. Me. Out.

So I went and played on the computer and watched tv upstairs. I know my limits. I know at what point I am JUST about fully freaked out and I know when to stop watching. Pat? Does not.

Suffice it to say that in the last half hour the remote controls have managed to slide off of the little side table beside the chair he's sitting in (not a completely flat surface, to be fair). And I guarantee that each time those remotes crash to the ground, a grown man jumps out of his skin. And me? I just laugh. A lot. Loudly. And then I tell him I'm going to whisper at him in the night, turn on all the faucets and slam the door. Hahahaha.

Know your limits. Boo.

Shopping and Watching

I threw my company credit card around today like it was the last day that the planet would be accepting MasterCard. I bought gourmet gift baskets of my own creation from a very fancy pants store. I assume they make good money off of their high end products because I don't personally know anyone who would go there and pay $2.95 for a tin of Green Giant niblets that cost .97 elsewhere. But they sure do have fancy crackers!

Then I went to Chapters and bought greeting cards and a chicken. Don't ask.

Then I got to go buy the most expensive knife in the cabinet for someones "wow you actually stuck around here for 30 years" present.

I was in the knife-buying store and had to ask someone where the washroom was. I used to work in the knife-buying store about 11 years ago and wouldn't you know it, this incredibly old gentleman, the one who I of course stopped to ask, remembered me. Ugh. Hello small talk, nice to see you again. We chitty-chatted for a bit and I realized that while I normally don't mind small talk, I really hate it when I have to go pee.

I bought gift cards and movies and books. It was a fun morning. Spending other peoples money usually is.

Second item of business. The Mentalist. It has come to my attention that a good number of folks do not watch my Mentalist and I am saddened to hear of this. While Robin Tunney has the standard female in a male role and associated acting skills to match, the other cast members are amazing. Patrick Jane? My word. Please. Cho? So straightforward, no unecessary words, no BS. Rigsby? Something about that underbite, that teenaged crush on the girl, that tough guy innocence. Van Pelt? I was not your biggest fan at first but I have warmed to you. I dig your restraint with Rigsby because you want to suceed at work. But lady, have you SEEN him? Wow. Willpower central. Anywho.

So for those of you who haven't watched an episode, please do. Snapshot: Patrick Jane's wife and child were killed by a serial killer, Red John. Everything else is just details.

Answer Me This...

Where does one put an antique upright piano when you really have no available wall space but 4 different people locally are giving one away free on Kijiji?

Why haven't I checked out Kijiji sooner?

Does that Enzo kid on the Hills creep anyone else out or is it just me?

Is the Hills actually wayyyy better than the City this season?

If today is Wednesday but it feels like Saturday, will Friday feel like Tuesday and will I keep getting pleasant little surprises everytime I realize that it is, in fact, Friday?

Why haven't I been watching commercial-free Coronation Street online up until now? Brilliant.

If the Mentalist was a nightly show would it lose some of its magic?

Do people who eat organic food realize that their precious, non-GMO ingredient items are only still around because they are owned by some of the largest corporations in the world who use and thus support GMO ingredients? Prime example. Kashi, uber organic granola products owned by Kellogs who, I'm just guessing, rock the high fructose corn syrop pretty good in their frosted cereals. No?

How can miserable people put on such a fake happy face around other people? Isn't that exhausting?

If you have come across a really fabulous chair but can't think of a single place to put it but its just being given to you at no charge, do you take it and hope for a brainwave to hit with the perfect spot?

Is it wrong to buy a new book when you know you have at least three that you have not yet gotten to the back page of?

If you have enough airmiles to get to England but you'd have to go alone with no kid and no husband, would you? Take into account you have enough to get all three to Vancouver Island to see a parent.

These are the soul-searching questions I am mulling over right now.

The Light! I See The Light!!

So by the lack of incessant emails requesting this inventory data and that inventory data infiltrating my inbox at mach speed, I am tempted to think that it just might be over. I hesitate to say that out loud for fear of totally jinxing myself but all signs point to finito. I had one email yesterday with a simple request, one today with the last company data included and only one desperate note from the guy heading it all up asking if I was in yet. In the heart of this mess I would get the "Are you in the office?" email just about every time I got up to go to the bathroom. Yes, I would assure him, yes I am in the freakin office. Can a girl not go pee in this our time of crisis? Geez.

And now? I find myself planning a whopper of a trip to New Orleans. I find myself booking meetings with big wigs from the states and simply adoring all of the assistants I am dealing with for this. I find myself shopping for thank you gifts and creative promotional items and can feel those juices start to flow again. I find myself, quite simply, catching up. But most importantly, I find myself loving what I'm doing again.

Its about time.

If You Love It So Much Why Don't You Marry It?

Lately I have felt like a bit of a new-house-whore. I've written nearly solely about the house. Thought about very little else. Shopped for nothing but knick knacks and doo-dads. And while yes, I do absolutely love the new house, I think we need a night apart. So this fine and balmy fall evening, I will attempt to write about other things (even though my mind automatically wanders to my balcony where, had I found the adirondack chair I've been searching for, I might have spent a portion of today IN said chair under a blankie with a good book and a cup of joe, but I digress).

Other noteworthy items in the life of me, completely unrelated to my casa:

* I think mck is getting sick. For reals this time. And I think it may be a doozie.

* I was tricked into seeing a light at the end of the inventory/spreadsheet blech-iness that I have been embroiled in at work.

* There is much more to do on that front. I quote, "You know everything you did for western Canada? You have to do that for the east". Oh, you mean the east that you told me I didn't have to worry about three weeks ago? THAT east? Oh.

* A friend of mine is falling in love. How crazy is that to witness, you ask? Wicked crazy.

* My old boss tried to get me back. He got shut down the minute the request came out of his mouth but the fact that he actually asked the president of canadian operations to make it happen made me feel pretty darn good.

* I flew my trainer kite in such winds that, had I had rollerblades on, I'd have been dragged across the field in some capacity. While the potential for injury is great, the sheer idea of it made me put my blades in the car for next time, just in case.

* I had pancakes today. Its been awhile.

* Mck's texture issues seem to be reaching an all time high. If something is in her mouth for any length of time, she spits it out and nearly pukes. Her menu just shrank dramatically. Again.

* I organized the trunk of my car AND my closet this weekend. I found a bottle of wine, a missing jacket, 7 pens but no blackberry case.

* We took mck to a movie. It was so good that I was able to organize my entire purse during it. That was sarcasm. It wasn't good. Though I DID organize my purse.

* I brought home a stack of work papers approximately 4.5 inches thick. Its still 4.5 inches thick. Oh wait. That's a lie. I threw out about half an inch.

* I did a big grocery shop on saturday morning. And I didn't have to walk through a parkade, get two heavy metal doors open, stand and wait for an elevator, ride 15 floors and then get mck to unlock the door, times FIVE, to get them all inside.

And yes, that was a big fat reference to being in my new home. Bags to door to kitchen. Magical and often taken for granted. Not in THIS house.

2 Weeks Later

Its been two weeks since we moved into the new house. Two weeks and all that's left is the need for three rather large pieces of art and a few plants. All knick knacks are out. All boxes are gone. All items are in their rightful spot. Each and every window requiring curtains, has them as of 11:45 tonight.

I think its almost time to sit back and enjoy it.

They Might Be Soulful

A long long time ago, in a galaxy far far away, I was a young gal dating the cool guy in the grade older than me. He had some, ummmm, interesting friends but more importantly, he had friends with cars and in said cars we listened to tunes. It was in that year that I was formally introduced to the musical stylings of bands such as De La Soul and They Might Be Giants. I miss them and need to do some serious downloading, pronto.

I remember one song in particular, though not sung by either of the above mentioned greats. I don't know how many times I'd have heard it but somehow a good portion of the song is firmly embedded in my brain. Perhaps if I sing a little, someone out there might know it...

La di da di
We like to party
We don't cause trouble
We don't bother nobody
We're just some men that's on the mike
And when we rockin on the mike, we rock the mike right
Cuz all in all
Keeping y'all in check
Just to see you smilin, enjoy yourself
Cuz its cool when we cause a cozy condition
Yeah, that we create
Cuz that's our mission

Or something like that. *ahem* Ring a bell anyone? No? Didn't think so.

On another note, I heard a song by Erasure the other day. I think my 17 year old self still loves them.

So....Very..........Tired..............

Long week. Endless meetings. Two formal dinners. But I finally got to meet my new team and I think everythings gonna be alright. Its funny. I have replaced each and every member of my old team. I have them all again. Just with different faces. The guy who swears a lot and has a dry, eye rolling sense of humor? Check. The guy who's always late but somehow you're never really mad at him? He's there. The guy who knows the business inside and out but is never pretentious about his brilliance? Yup, got one. The girl who kicks ass and hangs with the big dogs? Right over there. The goofball who can make you laugh in one swift dance move? Pretty sure I got me another one. The one who's all business all the time but sneaks in a zinger one-liner here and there? Indeed.

So while initially I was sad to lose my first crew, I have come to realize I didn't lose them at all. They're all still there, making each other laugh, breaking into serious conversations, telling stories of "remember when". I didn't lose a thing. I gained. Times two.

Neither a Sty, Nor Pink Eye

I have something in my eye. Its driving me mental. The end.

Now Is NOT The Time

So I read a little note on Twitter today, written by a local Twtter-er about the line-ups at Superstore and the duration he spent standing in said line-ups at Superstore. My thoughts? Surely he wasn't at the one I was headed to.

Fast forward thirty minutes and we were elbow to elbow with a good one third of the Winnipeg population with a promise to and from Mck that we were going to practice our patience and get to the back of the line. While in the line, people shoved, people cut, people complained about people shoving and cutting. And we were patient, just like we promised. But everyone has their breaking point.

Approximately four people ahead of me, getting their groceries put through, was an older couple, possibly late fifties, early sixties. All but one item was checked through and then suddenly, we were at a stand still. What's thehold up? Surely you can see the 800 people behind you patiently losing their patience. Surely you're aware of the line ups because up until two minutes ago you were PART of that line up.

The cashier explained the price discrepancy. We all got it. Its that price if you buy in groups of 2. Anything less and it was full price. Classic Superstore. No she says. Its the lower price regardless. Oh dear. Really? Really, you think NOW is the time to bicker over three bucks? Apparently yes. She would not accept his obviously cockamaimy theory on price and demanded a price check. Oh, you heard me. A price check. In the middle of the mayhem. The cashier got on his phone to place the price check. Or so we all thought. But in reality? He just called the fat sloth he was hoping would come see him to DO the price check. So we waited. The two people behind me had snide running commentary the whole time. And finally, the fat sloth sauntered over to see what needed price checking. Oh. Tin foil. A roll of tin foil. A single fucking roll of tin foil. Like the lady behind me said, it better be a pretty life or death situation, this need for tin foil at a reduced price.

So off our friendly neighbourhood price checker goes, as fast as his fat little legs will carry him. And we wait some more. The couple dares not make eye contact with anyone in line. Because if looks could kill? Well. We'd need two hearses and no price checkers.

Finally the cashier's phone rings. He relays the message to the couple. The same message he told them ten minutes ago. The same message that means their precious tin foil will be 4 dollars instead of one. They hem. They haw. And finally I can't take it anymore and I yell out, "I will pay for your tinfoil!". The man in front of me laughs. The people behind me go quiet. The couple quickly tell the cashier they don't want it and pay for their crap and get lost. They didn't take the tin foil. After ALL that, they don't even want their stupid tin foil. I almost bought it when it was my turn to pay. I almost coughed up the four freaking bucks for it. And you know what I would have done with it? I would have found those people in the parking lot, walked right up to where I am sure they were meticulously packing their groceries away in their car and I would have opened that container of tin foil and unraveled every last inch of it while she stared in horror. I might have even torn it into unusable sized pieces, just for fun. Spending four bucks on something I don't need and won't use would probably never have felt better.

Sneaky Bastard

I have always found that in high stress, very important situations, my body/energy level/abilities always seemed to stay right where I needed them to be, right to the very last minute. Take, for example, the Bike Tours. TONS of prep work, TONS of lead up, TONS of physical exertion in the days prior and all weekend of the tour, TONS of clean up, TONS of brain power required to make snap decisions and change course on a dime. And right up until that very last pallet was piled back into the warehouse, I had what it took in me to get it all done.

Now the days FOLLOWING the bike tours? Whole other story. The energy level shuts down. The enthusiasm shuts down. The go-go-go attitude shuts down. And eventually, the immune system that stayed so rock solid when your body was screaming to sleep and rest and be left the hell alone? Well, it shuts down too.

There was so much going on just before the big move. Final prep with the builder. Nightmare situations with the bank. Miscommunications with the lawyer. Little things on top of other little things. Work duties piling up with no light at the end of the tunnel. Packing box after box. Planning trucks and prepping loads and getting it all to the house and oh wait we forgot to eat again. Shuttling boxes upstairs and downstairs and upstairs only to realize it really needed to be downstairs. Sore backs and sore calves. Tired bodies with no sign of stopping. Work was still there, waiting anxiously for my return. And finally, we're in, and life is as it shall be going forward. And now, slowly but surely, its sneaking in.

Slowly but surely, the runny nose sneaks in. The sore throat sneaks in. The nagging cough sneaks in. The exhaustion sneaks in. The headache? Well, she barged in but she was never one to be sneaky. Slowly but surely, the sickness sneaks in and takes over. It rubs your back and tells you its ok, just let yourself shut down. I'm gonna be here for awhile, it says, its ok. I'm sneaking in, slowly but surely, and we're gonna get to know each other REAL well. I'm gonna be here for awhile, you may as well make yourself comfy. Well, as comfy as you can get with sickness invading. Slowly but surely, I'm sneaking in, and you'll let it happen, you'll get used to me, you'll give in.

Sneaky bastard.

Would You Be Mine, Could You Be Mine...

Having lived over in St.James area for close to a year, we managed to get used to our general surroundings. We had a "new" Dollarama, a "new" McD's, a "new" Superstore complete with underground parking, a "new" Walmart. You know, the necessities. But sometimes,even though you are slowly getting used to these NEW places, there are things you just miss and never find again, there are those things in the old neighbourhood that are just irreplaceable.

The video store. I still have no idea what its called but every single staff person in there has seen every single movie on those shelves and will give you the low-down every time you ask for it. We never found another one quite like it.

The car wash. Warm water. Long cycles. Always a bay available. Never a wait. Room to manouver. We never found another one quite like it.

The gas station. Run by two dudes who know us enough to not make us pre-pay after 6pm the way the rest of the general population does. Always gives cash back when they don't actually offer it. Nice enough to let us taste test the new flavor of Doritos without having to commit to buying the whole bag. We never found another one quite like it.

The Extra Foods. The nicest one in the city that had fresh everything including a near full deli counter and a mini Joe section. I don't even know where the St.James Extra Foods WAS. So clearly, we never found another one quite like it.

Big Guys. Cheap, hearty food. Best chicken burger in town (though it now has some tough competition from the Burger and Fry Comopany, though admittedly, not in St.James). Try as we might to discover the next great greasy spoon, we never found another one quite like it.

The Fyxx. Le Roast Beef on a panini. What's Gotten India with a ceasar salad. Mm mm good. Best hot choc and emperial cookies this side of Bishop Grandin. The Daily Grind pulled in as a respectable replacement coffee shop but couldn't truly deliver that same vibe. We never found another one quite like it.

So needless to say, its nice to be home. To get to know my Safeway ladies again. To see if the waitresses remember how I like my baked potato. To have the cashier marvel at how big mck is getting. To have the M&M gals automatically grab something when I walk in. To have the video store guy say "eh, don't worry about it" when we bring the movie back late. Yes. Its a beautiful day in my neighbourhood.

Things I Found in the Move

I have never seen the movie "Things We Lost in the Fire" but everytime I say the phrase "Things I found in the move" I feel like its a movie title. Though, I'm guessing, probably not as sad/depressing as the fire one sounds.

I found my favorite, actually-purchased-not-from-itunes-not-burned CD's. I found my Backpacker magazines where my trip pictures are strewn throughout 4 issues. I found my prayer flags and my tiny little prayer wheel. I found a box overflowing with notebooks that I didn't know I had. I found little statues from mck's room that were long forgotten by BOTH of us. I found knick knacks that made me smile, books that made my heart warm and pictures that took me away to far off and nearby places I'd very nearly forgotten I'd been to.

So no. There's no fire. There was nothing lost. There's no movie. Just a settled in feeling with the occassional treasure appearing out of nowhere and a quiet little, "Ohhhhh, I forgot about this" from deep inside whatever box I'm in the midst of unpacking.

Oh, Its Time

So the packing is done. The banking is done. The building is done. The lawyering is done. The hauling and carrying and shuttling is done. The unpacking is done. The sorting is done. The setting crap up is done. The deciding on places for everything is done.
And now? Its time. Body? You now have my permission to shut down. Off you go.

Now Available in Canada

So did you know that Aleve is now available in Canada? Not a fact that would normally stick with me but the way I feel right now? I could down the whole bottle and still feel fairly confident that SOMETHING would be sore tomorrow.

My back, my hips, my shoulders, my calves. Ow.

And now, other news in triplicates...I have my books in three beautifully stacked places. I found three books that I started and never finished that I may now have a second-go-round at. I saw three hours of uninterrupted Coronation Street this morning while unpacking. I had a grand total of three meals all weekend. I busted three nails moving heavy crap. It took three loads each day this weekend to get moved in here.

And in conclusion....mck is asleep in her own bed in her own room which she loves. She just about DIED when she saw the princess hangers I bought her and immediately rearranged her closet to ensure that the appropriate princess dress hangs on the matching hanger. I think she was almost as excited to organize her dresses as I was to organize my books. Almost.

(Sidenote: the above post was written in a sleep-deprived manner. The author is not responsible for content. Unless you think it actually makes sense. Then it was ALL me.)

The View From Here

I am sitting in the den of my new house just looking out the window. Having the porch railing right in front of me makes me feel like I could be sitting in the den of the house we had in the country, only without having four hours worth of grass to cut.

I have spent much of this morning just staring out the windows. After having lived on the 15th floor in an apartment that faces other apartments, I realized two things. 1) We kept the curtains closed virtually all the time and 2) there wasn't much to look at. Maybe that's why I catch myself losing focus and staring out whatever window I happen to be near. I am filling up on window withdrawl. I literally can't walk past a window without looking outside. Maybe its because we don't have curtains yet. I don't know. But what I DO know? Is that we have a KILLER view.

Mandatory

I think that, anytime anyone reacts in a shithead kind of way to a challenging or unfortunate situation, a light should go off over their head, much like the "stewardess needed" light on an airplane, only this light would signal two huge men to come and pick up the walking pile of douchebaggery and drag it off to anger management classes where they will be taught appropriate and socially acceptable responses to a variety of lousy situations. Just sayin'.

Boxed

I'm obsessed. I'm obsessed with cardboard. I'm obsessed with shoving every item possible IN to cardboard. I have become a packing fiend. I feel lost when I run out of boxes. I feel frazzled when it seems like there's nothing to pack. And don't even get me STARTED on how it feels to realize that something is too big for the size of boxes I have. Downright depressing.

I have organized us down to socks per day for the number of days to the move. Today mck put her Thursday outfit socks on and there was a hole in one. I very near hyperventilated. Surely I wasn't going to put her Friday socks on! Instead I grabbed a pair from the laundry. This was NO time to be messing with my system!

As soon as we are done with something, into the box it goes. I planned our dinners this week with the least amount of pots and pans required as possible. Once a dinner was done and the remaining weeks menu didn't require it, into the box it went. Pat even offered to get chinese yesterday and I practically shouted at him. "No!" I said, "I have our food planned perfectly and I'm not messing it up!". I turned down an opportunity to NOT COOK. What is going on here?? What have I become?

I am a woman on a mission when it comes to getting things in boxes. I want it all in boxes. Lovely, uniform, easy to transport boxes. I am putting everything in boxes. I put couch cushions in a box. I put a TV in a box. I bought a new comforter that came with its own perfectly good zippered carrying case and it is KILLING me to not put it in a box. It would take up the whole box. It would weigh all of a pound. But its not uniform. Its not lovely. Its not easy to transport (ok maybe that ones a stretch but COME ON!). I keep looking at it. Part of me wants to use up all the boxes so its not even an option to pack it. And part of me wants to keep a box off to the side and suddenly stumble upon it like its a spare and theres nothing left to pack but, oh wait, what's this, a perfectly already packed comforter? Why, that would fit just perrrrrfectly in this one last totally unexpected empty box. Or maybe I'm just crazy.

And Your Name Was? Subtlety? Oh, Nice to Meet You

Once upon a time there was this thing called subtlety. We did not generally get along too well as I did not see the point in it. I was always of the impression that if you wanted/meant/needed/disliked/etc something, just bloody well say so. I have always understood subtlety and have realized its place in the world but often viewed it as being somewhat manipulative, a suggestive way of just saying what you really mean.

But I get its charm. Its almost like subliminal messaging. Like you just kinda sorta put the thought in someones head, just gently enough for it to stay there but not so gentle that they forget you ever said anything. Take today for example.

Me: Hey, where you going?
Jan: Just popping to the store.
Me: What kind of store?
Jan: Somewhere like Moores. Emergency tie requirement.
Me: Oh. I thought maybe you were getting something to eat.
Jan: Nope.
Me: Oh. Well if you happen to go to a store that sells milkshakes, I'll take one!

Cut to 20 minutes later. Large chocolate shake appears on my desk. Score. So I ask the question. Was that subtlety? Or outright asking? I didn't ask him to get me one, to go out of his way. I merely suggested that if he should HAPPEN to pass by a milkshake making facility, I would not be opposed if he purchased one for me.

I dunno. Maybe that's a brutally honest persons version of subtlety. Maybe that's as subtle as I am capable of getting. Maybe its just not in me to be subtle. But whatever it was, it got me a milkshake.

Top Ten Reasons Why Today Was Better Than Yesterday

10) I got a lot of work done as opposed to crunching numbers that had nothing to do with work.

9) I packed myself out of boxes. Waiting on the next batch.

8) Found out we can get the keys a day early.

7) Confirmed the appliance delivery. Was in limbo for five days of phone tag.

6) Its as cheap as it was last time. How often does THAT hapen?

5) McK behaved all day and sat through an hour and a half conference call quietly because I chose not to tell her the phone was muted.

4) I am rested enough to not feel like if my head even caught a whiff of a pillow I'd be asleep for days. Which was my yesterday.

3) We are one day closer to Friday.

2) Our obligation to the bank and the lawyer is done.

And the number one reason why today was better than yesterday?

1) Two words. The Hills.

Another Kind of Tired

Today wore me out. Beat me up a bit. Brought me to, as I've recently read, next level exhaustion. I spent a lot of today irritated, confused and pissed off. And that there combo meal will make anyone feel next to death.

I started out being really mad at our banker. It turns out his piece of the dysfunctional pie was fairly minor and easily repaired. Then I was really mad at our lawyer. It turns out their piece of pie? Was strictly a copy-paste from the builder. Then I was really mad at the builder. It turns out that, once we had the right info, their piece of the pie was not as incorrect as we thought initially.

The REAL culprit? The one who keeps trying to steal the pie from the windowsill? Our sales agent. I swear those people will tell you whatever you want to hear sometimes. And this tidbit was told to us early on, way back when she didn't quite know yet who she was messing with. I bet she's shitting right now, dreading every time her blackberry vibrates, worrying that we have discovered where she screwed it up.

Well we figured it out, made some sense of things. Its not all crystal clear but knowing what we know now, we realize that a) the city of winnipeg likes our money and b) our sales agent is a douche bag. Lesson learned.

They're All Murderers

I've never picked up a hitchhiker. I've often thought about it, as I drive past them on the side of the road, looking desperate, running after cars that slow only to realize they are slowing to turn the corner, thumbs out, a look of pleading and discouragement competing for prominence in their eyes. I zoom right past them because I was told they are all murderers and rapists. Even that cute little couple with their full backpacks and him trying to hang just a little bit behind and the sign for Banff hanging casually from her fingertips. Zoom. Because you never know. That cute backpacking couple might have knives in their packs. Or a gun. Or a chainsaw.


So here's the irony. I've BEEN a hitchhiker twice. I've relied on the kindness of strangers who's mother perhaps never told them that I was probably a murdering hiker and I'm THIS filthy and stink THIS much not from 8 solid days in the woods but because I have the blood of a girl scout troop on my hands.

I came to realize that both of the times that I was in need of a lift was a direct result of spending a good number of days in the wilderness and emerging from said wilderness no where near where I needed to be to get home. And both times, sticking the universal symbol for "hey brother can I have a lift" out seemed like the most normal thing in the world to do.

Hitchhike #1 - a four day canoe trip cut short by a day by mutual decision. We hauled the canoe up to shore. Trusted that all items would be safe due to outdoorsmans code of do not steal anothers gear lest you find yourself caught without one day. We had never been in this area of the park before but knew roughly where a phone might be so started walking. And walking. And walking. And finally, the two drenched women (oh did I mention it was POURING??) with nothing but a quarter and an innocent smile threw out the thumb in an empty provincial park and managed to snag a lovely green Ford Taurus bursting with overweight, middle-aged couple doing a good deed for two stranded girls. We shot each other a quick look when the doors automatically locked once we got in, a sure sign they wanted to cut us into numerous pieces and dine on us with a nice bottle of red. We giggled a nervous giggle because TRULY that was just ridiculous. Right? They took us to a resort area where we called for a ride and then we walked back towards where we started from. We did not get as lucky on the way back to our gear but at least the rain had stopped. It brought out the mosquitoes but hey, we had just survived a hitchhiking, we can't have EVERYTHING.

Hitchhike #2 - After seven days in the Alaskan wilderness, somewhere along the unending Alaska highway, 6 weary backpackers stumbled out of the forest, a stinky, hungry bunch. We were, for all intents and purposes, 6 days away from where we left the van. There was much rock-paper-scissoring to see who would be stuck doing the hitch to go get it and I won the honor alongside the big cheese who came with us. So there we were. Standing on the side of a highway somewhere between Anchorage and Fairbanks, two thumbs out, watching motorhome after motorhome go by in a blaze of "Where the Hell is Walldrug" technicolor. How sweet would it be to get a lift from a motorhome and be all showered and clean when we picked everyone up?? But alas. None were prepared to pick up the two dirty hikers on the gravel shoulder. "Show some leg" the editor said. Now heres the thing. I probably had more muscle-y legs than he did and I was all "dude, YOU'RE the one wearing a skirt!!!" (There's a really cool mens hiking skirt, trust me, its wicked). So I just told him to stand back a bit pulled the ol' polyester shorts a little higher up the mud-caked thigh and voila, a sweet young pockmarked pothead in a rusty little red jalopy pulled over for the chick with the killer calves. Oh. And Dennis too. Yeah, he's with me, sorry. We listened to bad 80's music and carried on some clearly forced and uncomfortably awkward conversation for what would amount to 6 days of hiking a ridgeline trail and suddenly we were thanking the kid profusely and joking about "wouldn't it be funny if we forgot the van keys??".

Two safe hitchhiking tales. No murderers to be found. Maybe that's what we are allotted in a lifetime. Maybe we each get 2 free rides. So, you ask, will I be sharing these stories or my "2 free rides" theory with McK? Oh HELL no. 1-800-CALL-MOM in FULL effect.

3 Weird Things

I said "peace out" to my old boss today.

I bowed out of a meeting today. Literally. I bowed, rolled my hand in a royal fashion, and walked out.

I actually wanted to pack today. I didn't. But I wanted to.

Hm. Odd.

Everything is Awesome

Yesterday I went to Dairy Queen for lunch with a friend of mine. It was a spur of the moment decision as we both just needed to get out of the office and away from the tedious tasks that ate up our morning.

There was an older couple in line in front of us. A couple who were not entirely familiar with the menu. Now typically at Dairy Queen, the staff is less than excited to be there and the fact that you want to give them your money in exchange for their food seems to piss them off. So I worried a little for the transaction about to go down.

The server was a tiny, early-middle-aged phillipino woman with enough of an accent that you could hear it but not enough of one that you couldn't understand it. And she? Was bubbly. Like, spinny-happy-the-world-is-awesome-because-we-are-all-alive bubbly. And she treated those two elderly people like they were the only people in her world AT THAT MOMENT. She was patient, she was funny, she was helpful, she was BUBBLY. My pal and I looked at each other and after the initial eye-roll for the ridiculousness that was her perkiness, we began to laugh. And not a mean laugh either!

The woman virtually skipped around the kitchen, grabbing the drinks, thanking the person who had waited so patiently in the drive thru line with such gusto that they probably forgot where they were and figured they were in Disneyland or some other place where everyone who works there is perpetually happy. Gone was our irritation, our thoughts of "who the fuck is really that happy? I mean, come ON! She's humming!". Our sour puss attitude was fast replaced with an emergency get-happy-quick plan that involved immediate contact with one another if we were getting work doldrums and a trip to that specific DQ on the asap to rememedy them. Either that or we were going to see if she would just walk around our office once or twice a week to cheer everyone up and remind them to be happy.

She bopped as she took orders. She was happy to serve you. She made her day fun. And it seemed real. It wasn't an act. But the best part, the part that induced the most giggles? When I went up to get my blizzard. She made it herself and looked so pleased with herself after removing the silver cup collar thingy that even I could see her beaming. She walked over to me and said, "Wow! I even got the crown on there!" Because all of the ice cream swept upwards at the rim of the cup and because the name of the joint involves royalty. She thought this feat, this accomplishment was pretty darn spectacular. But that's not the best part. The best part? Was when she handed it to me. The moment she let go of her work of art and entrusted it to me she said, "Crispy Crunch Blizzard! AWE-SOME!!".

I couldn't help but laugh. "Awesome!" I replied. Sometimes people are just plain happy. And why the hell not. Let them be happy. Its actually quite contagious.

Things That Are Good as of Right This Moment

* Mck is wearing her new Ariel PJ's and she loves them more than anything.

* Mck did not complain of a mysterious yet painful tummy ache tonight as she did last night and so there was no mom-worrying done.

* I painted my nails bright red and while they look fantastic, they are remarkably distracting when I type.

* New York called and invited me over for a playdate. I don't know when or how but I am going to go there again.

* I have till Nov 2 to get my piece submitted for the contest. Phew.

* My old work team was in the office today and after miles and miles of spreadsheets it was a lovely distraction to see them.

* Someone who usually drives me bonkers, especially with this data entry crap instruction coming from him, made me laugh today. Pretty hard. I even said I'd get a shirt made with what he said on it. Classic.

* Same guy brought me a gift from his trip to Jamaica. Niceness or bribery, I don't care. Its a pretty necklace so its all good.

* My old boss asked me, ME, to update and format his wife's resume. He always said he liked my writing abilities but this was a new one for me. I was scared to change much but was flattered that he asked.

* I am supposed to take pregnancy photos of a close friend of mine. I'm nervous. I spent some time researching some creative shot ideas so she doesn't end up with the same old, same old. I think they'll be good.

* I have a new work bag and I love it. Its Mountain Hardwear and it rocks something wicked.
* My head/jaw ache is just about gone. That hurt more than the actual dental work. But its gone. And that's a good thing.

* I am nearly one week away from being surrounded by oodles and boodles of my own things again. My books, my photos, my art and wonderful treasures. I can't wait to have my maps with me, the atlas, my gorgeous fluffy towels, cozy throw blankets, extra pillows, all of my camping gear....ahhhhhhh.....eight glorious days away from now.....gooooooood!!!!!

An Odd Kind of Thankful

I realized this weekend that there are things I'm thankful for that don't typically seem like things you'd be thankful for.

1) The warranty on my Suzuki is up. Done. Finito. Normally a crummy thing. But I? Am thankful. Because now I can get the kind of car starter I want without voiding the warranty that's left or being forced to get the factory one.
2) We found a leak from one of the toilets in the basement of the new house. Anyone who knows Pat knows that no one within a five mile radius of him when this was discovered would be thankful. But I? Am thankful that we found it now, before we have moved all our stuff in with a basement full of boxes and a restriction on which toilet you can flush.

3) I only packed 12 boxes when there are probably 50 still to go. A daunting task with less than two weeks to the big day. But I? Am thankful that I got those 12 boxes done considering I had a bored 6 year old vying for my attention the whole time.

4) My sister lives two provinces away and it seems like just when we are getting closest, life gets its busiest and two provinces seem like two continents with an ocean in the middle. But I? Am thankful because she was here this weekend and I saw her three of the four days she was here and my girl and my nephew play together like they've been neighbours their whole lives.

5) Winter is coming. Its getting colder. People are hunkering down and staying inside and acting depressed and as moody as the weather. But I? Am thankful for warm fleeces, cozy mittens, soft falling snow, snowball fights with my baby and letting the idea that "yes, we can go play outside" sink in to that spot, you know the one, that spot that's been itching to go outside and play since last fall.

Yeah. Lots of odd things go on in this crazy world. But I? Am thankful. Are you?

I Should Have Known Better

So randomly in our laundry room someone had left behind one section of the previous days newspaper. Two pages in and there it was. The annual NonFiction writing contest. Two years ago (at least) I had written something for it but then decided against submitting it. Last year I simply let the deadline slip by. But this year I intend to pen a little something for it.

This particular contest runs with a theme suggestion that you do not necessarily need to state word for word but can be implied, even subtly, within your piece. This year it is "I should have known better". I have a doozie stored up in the old noggin for this one but, seeing as it is in the vein of the previous non-submitted piece, will I have the guts to send it in? I think I will ponder the theme tomorrow. Perhaps I'll come up with something amazing that I should have known better about.

It Snowed! It Snowed!

I'm likely the only person in Winnipeg that is excited about this but people, we played OUTSIDE! In the SNOW! With NO BUGS! And it wasn't FREEEZING! COME ON!!

Reasons Why My Kid Is Cool

Sometimes, just when I think my kid must have come from someone else cuz there's no way I could produce something that rotten/whiny/crabby/stubborn, she does stuff that reminds me why she is the COOLEST KID ON THE PLANET.

Take, for example, her three favorite tunes. While I have always been able to convince her to listen to my music by figuring out ways that each song is about a princess, she has only just lately taken to REALLY liking the songs she hears. So much so that she wants to know all the words. Which means playing them repeatedly. Which, I guess, could happen with worse songs. Like anything from Dora. Her three faves currently? Early on Tuesday by Jesse Cook, I'm Your Man by Michael Buble, and Tell Me Baby by the Red Hot Chilli Peppers. Baby Its Cold Outside with Ella Fitzgerald is a close runner up for third.

I like to forget that she also loves the Pussycat Dolls and Beyonce. I guess I can't have everything.

Falling Into Autumn

Its crisp out these days. Its that time of year where most people get a little mellower, sink a little deeper into themselves, ache to be just a little bit warmer. I hear grumbling wherever I am. Moaning about the chill, groaning about the damp. We have more grey sky than blue right now and the brilliant sun, when out, is already setting by the time I head home from work. But I think, in my animal life, I am a polar bear because none of this seems to bother me.

I won't deny that I enjoy warm weather. I like sitting in the sun sipping a cool beverage. I am not opposed to moderately warm temperatures. But I don't like hot. I like cool. I like layers. I like scarves and mitts and fabulous knit toques. I like that both McK and I are hat people and can rock a fabulous knit toque. I like fleeces in jacket or blanket form. I like down anything but most especially booties. I like 4 season tents and sleeping bags rated to minus 30 degrees celcius. I like comfortable boots that don't dig in where strappy sandals used to.

I like a hot cup of coffee on a cool morning where both my breath and my mug are steamy. I like hearing the crunch underfoot as I wander. I like watching the leaves fall down like rain. I like seeing what's around the bend in the trail just by looking through the bare branches. I like a fire to warm chilled hands and bring color and life to a darkened morning. I like watching puddles freeze over and lakes follow suit.

I like the mist that falls before the snow. I like the wind that makes the leaves dance as they drop. I like the feeling of the weather on my skin once I've come inside from a long walk. I like that the trails are free of bugs and other people. I like that it feels like the woods are my playground and Mother Nature is my babysitter and the rest of the world went out for the evening and left us to fend for ourselves.

And while most people begin to consider their hibernation plans at this time of year, I, like my polar bear kin, am just getting ready to wake up. Yes, its crisp out these days.

Dear You.....Yes, You

To the squealing one:
The high pitch thing only works when you're 2. And even then its not entirely adorable. Today you brought it to a new level and I have no idea who was suffering on the other end of your phone but rest assured, I suffered enough for both of us.

To the gabby one:
When I see you everywhere but at your desk, ALL day long, and you call me to tell me someone made a point about your absenteeism and you tell me how absurd it is, please know I am agreeing with you strictly out of politeness and because I do not want the akwardness of admitting that I agree with them hanging over us. What DO you do all day?

To the helpful one:
Please don't think I'm an idiot for asking you tons of questions. I trust you to know the answer and you have never let me down. Sometimes, when the answer is right in front of my face, I'm not asking you cuz I'm too lazy to see it, I'm asking you cuz I had no idea to look there.

To the pregnant one:
I know you had a scary weekend but I trust that everything will be ok for you. You are SUCH a good person and deserve the happiness that little Blinky will bring you and you will both come through it all with flying colors.

To the candle burning one:
There is only so much you can do whilst burning the candle at both ends before the breeze kicks in and your energy is snuffed out. Slow down. You're doing amazing. Pace yourself.

To the bad email writing one:
Putting "word on the street" in an email and then typing something you know to be fact makes you look like an idiot. Following it up by telling the person conspiring upon the email with you that you believe in recognizing an issue and dealing with it is actually opposite to what you're doing. You think you've mastered passive aggressive but you have no idea. You're just pissing people off.

This isn't really a "things left unsaid" post based on the fact that I have and will tell people most of these things. Even the three doozies. Because yes, sometimes I'm a jerk in disguise.

You Can Deal With This, or You Can Deal With That

So I used to think I was a good prioritizer. But after today I realized I never really had to worry about competing priorities. I just plowed through my to-do list at work and got shit done. It was a list of my creation, a list that often carried itself over into the next day because other things popped up. None of which seemed to compete for space at the top of the priority hierarchy.

Today I began a big job for my direct boss. Its rather daunting, rather dreary, and I can think of many things I'd rather be doing. However, its important and time sensitive so it sits firmly atop the leader board.

Mid-morning my services were half volunteered to another department with another daunting task hanging over them. A quick little training sesh and I knew exactly what I was to do. Mind numbing to be sure, but easy and quick. So I stuck with the easy and quick one. I powered through a good chunk (though in le grande scheme it was more of a tiny nibble) before realizing I needed to think a little harder about my priorities and where I should be focusing my attention.

I had been given instruction on the required spreadsheet for the "big job". I knew what the desired result was and how it was to look once populated. I knew its time-sensitive nature. Yet, I stuck with easy and quick. Because it was easy and quick and thus satisfying in its sense of accomplishment. But I only stuck with it for a moment more. I realized that I needed to bring some truth to that part on my resume where I claim to be "proficient at recognizing priorities and effectively basing my workload on said priorities" or something to that blahblahblah affect. I knew what my priority was and should be. I knew what clearly needed to come in second.

It was just me and my spreadsheet, acting all grown up, working on the boring job cuz it was, like, IMPORTANT or whatever.

Oh, By The Way...

So yeah, remember that spreadsheet issue I was having a few posts ago? Yeah. Turns out I am the one making said spreadsheet. Oh. I am? Yeah. Yeah I am. Crap.

Every Once In Awhile

Tonight, watching Brothers & Sisters, I cried. I didn't cry when Kitty found out about her cancer. I didn't cry when she realized how it would affect her baby. I didn't cry when she told her mother or her husband. I cried when the mom cried at the very end, in the very last minute of the show, when she finally let herself fall apart. I cried when she realized that she was tired of being strong for everyone else and that even being as strong as she had been up to that point, bad things happen and you won't always be strong for them. I cried, a mothers tears for a daughter. I know, I know. Its just a TV show.

I need a vacation.

After Hours

I know a lot of people say they love to get to work early and get stuff done before other people get there. They even go so far as to say that 45 minutes or hour before the rest of the world shows up for work is their most productive time of day. And up until today, I agreed with them.

I would have agreed that yes, the quiet of an empty office is condusive to mass quantities of work getting done. But then I started thinking about it and thinking about when I get my best work done.

You see, if you're there in the early a.m., people are often times connected to work by their phones and you still get interrupted. They slowly start to trickle in and you are inundated with calls of Good Morning and the distraction of people milling about and settling in. Your phone starts ringing before you're ready for it to and suddenly you have a new to-do list of things that just "popped up". Good idea in theory. Buuuuut....

I have grown to be a fan of the "last hour". That sweet spot from 5 to 6 where most people are stuck in traffic or picking up little bobby from hockey or already home making supper. Its that time where slowly but surely, lights are clicked off, doors are closed and feet shuffle on downstairs to head out into the dusky evening. It is then, in the dimness of a darkened office void of people and activity or the buzz of the start of a new day, that the work gets done.

No one bugs me. No one calls me. No one needs something RIGHT NOW. Its just me, my half done to-do list and an hour to power through it. I put my music on, turn on my little desk light and hunker down. And sometimes, as I cross things off my list of tasks, when I know everyone is gone, I might even sing along.

City Girl

So the season premiere of the City was on tonight and much like the Hills, I'm not yet entirely sure who I like.

Of course I love Whitney, even if she IS way too nice for her own good. Sometimes you gotta just learn to say no to people. I hope she figures that out this season, for her own sanity.

I was very glad that I caught the opening sequence that sort of explained where everyone went. If you missed that you might have wondered what the F was going on.

So Olivia. Good old Olivia. Finally. Someone who is not afraid to shut you down. I am not sure if I like Erin yet because she seems to have a bit of a negative attitude but maybe it just comes out because she can sense the idiocy in Olivia. And I love her solely based on the fact that she will basically tell Olivia to go screw herself. An admirable quality to be sure.

Roxy. Hmmm. Thus far, me no likey. I don't like two faced people. Pretty simple. She has no respect for other people, especially Whitney who has helped her tremendously. Regardless of the fact that she did admit to tying a rhinestone belt around a planter, the attitude and poorly covered nastiness needs to go. Her mom is Holly from Brother and Sisters. I wonder if she's proud.

No men have really surfaced yet. Jay and Adam have gone. They were both kind of doorknobs. Though attractive doorknobs to be sure. But the season ahead looks to be full of 'em.

I just can't WAIT till Roxy pisses off Kelly Cutrone. Now THAT?? THAT will be a throw down of epic proportions.

Disclaimer: I am a Reality Show Junkie, Deal With It

So the new season of the Hills started tonight. I'm not sure who I like anymore! I'm a die hard Justin Bobby fan but sweetheart, that HAIR! I didn't mind it all shaggy but under that hat and on that date?!? Chop it. Brody is fast becoming a non-issue and needs to step it up a bit or get more screen time. I think the admiration for him used to stem from his friendship with LC. Now that element is gone so I wonder if he'll fade? I used to hate Lo. Now she's the most sane person on the show. Not sure if that means I like her or if that means she'll become boring quickly. Audrina? Ummm. Hmm. A mind of your own needs to start surfacing. Heidi and Spencer are just ridiculous. While certainly not the bible thumpers they were on I'm a Celebrity Get Me Outta Here, they're still obnoxious and annoying. Although Spencer still has a few zingers that make me chuckle. Heidi still lives on her own planet. Stephanie. Oh my. MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS! That's all I need to say about that dumb tit. Quit freakin meddling. And Kristin. Dear Kristin. Oddly enough I think I like you. Based on the seasons preview I do not think I like your player status or what I think you do to JB, but you take no shit. And I can relate.