Didn't see this one coming either...

As I finished getting ready to leave the house after 2 days of cold recovery, I noticed a hair that seemed a little wild. And then I got close to the mirror.

I plucked it because I had a moment of "oh, my god, I have a grey hair" but it was too shiny and white blond looking to really be a grey hair, right? Right? RIGHT?!?!?

I'm just going to tell myself it was platinum blonde. Yeah, platinum. Not grey, platinum.

Losing a member of the sisterhood

I would like to say I'm speechless, and I guess I am if you consider that repeating "holy f*$#" over and over again kinda does render you a bit speechless if you can't come up with anything better to say, right?

So while I was lying on the couch watching the last episode of season II of Sex in the City, I got a phone call from a friend (S) asking if I'd spoken to our mutual friend M. These two have been part of the rocks that have gotten me used to being in the sisterhood of the single women again - always encouraging of going out and doing things, learning to do stuff for ourselves, being our fabulous single ladies always up for laughter and good times, etc.

Well, on Christmas Eve at 3:30, M got married at city hall to her ex boyfriend.

The news left me speechless well other than saying "holy F*$&" over and over again. I thought that maybe they'd get back together but married?!? Yowsah.

And with one less sister in the sisterhood.

I know I shouldn't be, but strangely I am

So, last night my highschool grad date sent me a friend request on FB. It's been for-ev-er since we last spoke and when I added him, I noticed my number was gettin' pretty high...no, not that number, my number of friends. J was 197 in fact.

So today I logged in after leaving the germ factory and successfully getting the new BBQ out of my car on the very first attempt (you go, girl!) and I noticed that I was now down to 196 friends from the last time I logged in.

Thing is, I went through my friends list. Think I can figure out who it is? Ahhh, the gloriousness that is fakebook - I have no idea. Even worse, I feel bad. Bad that I can't figure out who it is and even worse because someone *gasp* removed me from their friends list. It's kinda offensive but even worse I don't know who to feel offended by!

I think Fakebook will be the bane of the 21st century.

Update: Today I'm back to 197 friends. I didn't accept a friend request so who knows. I think *think* that someone killed the FB account and then reopened it because I know that FB saves ALL of your settings and friends and you don't have to reopen a brand new account (and yes, now you should be scared of FB) so perhaps that's what happened? Dunno - but it's odd...and I still can't figure out who it was...

And to all a good night

I would be remiss if I didn't say....

Merry Christmas to all!

The irony

So good friends M&J invited me over to their place to celebrate Christmas Eve with their family. I had a great time and had many a laugh and good memory. I also found an incredibly ironic item in their house.

I'm a tacky souvenir kinda gal. MS at work saved me from myself in Washington and only let me buy a Starbucks city mug when I was going for some really bad magnets (another classic of mine) and key chains of the Hope Diamond. Anyways, whenever I buy something from a place I've been, it's usually a magnet or a mug. Keep this in mind.

So, I'm going for another glass of champagne and raspberries (M&J know how to do me right) when I go to open their fridge and see...

An albertasauras magnet...

BAH HA HA HA HA...oh, the irony

Grill, Baby, Grill!

Santa brought me a new BBQ for Xmas. It was one of the few things (along with the blender that he'd never used) that le ex took with him when he left. There were a few other miscellaneous items but that was a biggie. But I got the garden hose so I guess there was some compromise...oh, and the house it attachs to ;o)

Anyways, Santa brought me a new BBQ and she's a beaute! If a BBQ could look more feminine and "girly" I don't know how - and she's royal blue. Santa's elves also brought me new utensils for it and Santa's brother gave me a(n empty) propane tank.

Now if only I wasn't terrified of BBQs :o( But knowing that my finest cooking hours will be in front of it this summer, I'm looking for volunteers to show me how to make it my bitch master it use it turn it on.

I'll get Santa's helpers to take a pic of her tomorrow so I can post it.

Merry (e)Xmas! (Hardy HAR HAR HAR!)

Someone's leaving on a jet plane

But it's probably not you - if you're flying Air Canada that is. Yet again, AC is striking across the country and leaving friends and loved ones alone with their unattended baggage that's about to be confiscated and blown up in the airports. I feel their pain.

So I saw this on EB's blog today and I had to steal it and put it on mine because the über geek in me thought it was cool:



The yellow dots are planes. Took me a second to get the weird lighting but that's just the sun "rising and setting" across the land.

(Yes, it's a slow, slow day at work on Xmas eve.)
(Yes, there is now a new category for all things geekarific in this blog - I realized I needed one)

Look out heaven, here I come!

I saw these and I just couldn't resist.

I won't tell you what I was actually looking for when I came across these...

Holy Walker insoles

Genuine Leather and Sand
Made in the Holy Land

HolyWalker is a pair of heel cushions filled with genuine grains of sand collected from the Holy Land.
It's the perfect religious gift for the true believer because with HolyWalker, every step is actually walked on the Holy Land, closer to Walking in the Spirit.
HolyWalker (Patent Pending) is the world's first and only insole filled with genuine grains of sand from the Holy Land.
The perfect religious gift for the true believer. HolyWalker

PRICE:

$34.95

You think I'm kidding, right? I'm creative, but not that good....

Buy online today!

Christmas traditions

Okay, I normally don't do this but thought after reading it on L's blog that I'd participate. After all, being a Christmas lover, how could I not?

1. Christmas Eve or Christmas morning?

Tough one - to me they are a package deal. In the eve, movies around a fireplace with goodies is divine. In the morning, toasty HC or coffee and present unwrapping is bliss. How do you choose between divinity and bliss? I guess, realistically, Christmas Eve as there's still some romantic anticipation of the big day to come.

2. Donner or Donder?

Donner.

3. Turkey or ham?

Turkey. Anything else is sacrilegious.

4. Gifts opened all at once, or one at a time?

All at once. I hate being the spotlight of attention and if there's a particular gift I wanna see being opened either from me or someone else, I will stop what I'm doing to watch. I find the one at a time takes too long and I'd rather have the "ohh, what did you get?" conversation after the fact. Besides, making kids wait for one at a time is just cruel. Confession: I'm sooo not good at lying or hiding my true feelings and hate the idea of having to fake excitement over another set of champagne glasses or whatnot.

5. Christmas tree: live or artificial?

When we were kids, my dad would start us on the Christmas tree hunt months in advance. We'd drive around looking at tree tops of trees that were up to 3 or 4 stories tall and he'd tromp in, sometimes 1/2 a km in the snow, to get the perfect tree. He'd cut down the full tree and the top 10-14 feet would be used for our Christmas tree (we had cathedral ceilings in our living room). He'd also drill holes in the trunk of the tree to take branches from the rest of the unused tree to make the perfectly filled out tree. For this reason, live, all the way. I do feel bad though about the Xmas tree industry and think it can't possibly be good for the environment.

However, having lived in apartment buildings for the last 10 years I do have 2 artificial Xmas trees to go with the live one I put up. Yes, I put up 3 trees.

6. Cards: boxed cards, family photo cards, or e-cards?

Boxed. Regardless of what it says, I like putting them on the mantle, seeing what cards people pick out based on their personality type, etc. Realistically though, they end up shredded and in the blue bin so I feel bad for the family photo ones of what to do with them but I understand the appeal of them for some people.

7. Christmas lights: incandescent or LED?

Incandescent - LED's don't "sparkle" enough for me.

8. Re-gift or not?

Re-gift all the way. HOWEVER, that means you have to hang on to it for a period of time until someone's birthday or another occasion. The "unwanteds" are more likely to end up at the Sally Ann or Value Village drop boxes before then. I can't stand having clutter in my house.

9. Gift wrap or gift bags?

I wrap everything. I love tearing open presents and most people do too regardless of if their environmental conscious will let them admit to it openly. I even wrap and THEN gift bag at Xmas time.

10. Best Christmas song?

Baby It's Cold Outside - any artist but I especially like Diana Reeves and Lou Rawls (off of Jazz to the World)

Close runner ups (in no particular order):

Elf's Lament - Barenaked Ladies

Rockin' Around the Christmas Tree - Brenda Lee

The Christmas Song - Hootie and the Blowfish (off of A very special Christmas 3)

Jingle Bell Rock - Randy Travis (off of A very special Christmas 2)

11. Best Christmas movie?

The Family Stone.

12. Favourite family tradition?

Our family would also cut down a miniature tree about 2-3' tall that my mom would then wrap Pot of Gold chocolates and other candies and chocolates in tinfoil and hang it from the tree with red, white and green yarn and it was a "Candy Tree". We'd get to pick one or two things off of it and I remember always trying to get the square looking tinfoil ball because that was a caramel chocolate.

When you add the candy tree with two days worth of decorating our huge trees plus Swedish Angel Chimes, ceramic Christmas trees, stockings with miniature cereal boxes with sugary goodness for breakfast on Christmas day, oranges in the toes and a can of alfagettin for lunch on Xmas day, how can you choose just one?

Blinkin' red, white and green

I was headed down to Elgin the other night for a little soiree after badminton when I got going past a house that had a nativity scene set up in the living room window.

I really don't like nativity scenes. In fact, I like them less than the Marys in a Tub. Something about them just creeps me out - almost worse than angels in fact, but not quite. And truth be told, if you've got one in your house, the prankster in me will find a way to replace baby Jesus (pronounced Hey-Zeus) with some other object. (I can hear the lightbulb going off in my SIL's head as she reads and now realizes who was to blame for the sheep being worshiped instead of baby Jesus).

So, this nativity scene lacked the barn backdrop and all the animals but all the other usual suspects were there: Mary with a cherry, Joe the handyman, the 3 smart guys, and baby Jesus. However, they were all about a foot tall. I know, you're probably thinking "as if she just called her Mary with a cherry" and THEN you're thinking "yeah, and?"

Well these statues were in fact made out of glass and had a full size light bulb in each so they all glowed.

CRRR-EEEEE-PY

Even better, they were on some f'ed up timer so that they randomly blinked on and off. And here I thought that magic light show was reserved solely for irritating houses on Taffy Lane.

Karma's a B!tch

Okay, so I complained about the plows to the city. But did that REALLY necessitate the plow following so close to my back end today that all I could see was the giant blade and swirl of snow in my rearview mirror? Seriously - if I have to pray to the car in front of me to "hurry the *bleep* up" because I think if I slow down any he'll hit me, that's not cool.

My plate is now mud with operators, I know it.

DAMN YOU KARMA!

" " (read: speechless)

Oh. My. God.

I don't even know what to say. And to think this is the most powerful man in America, nay the world, and his spawns!

Tell me, how long did you last? I think I got to 40 seconds because it was like a terrible car accident where you're repulsed but at the same time captivated in silent horror.



This gets a "brillance and glory" tag - but let me be clear, it certainly wasn't MY brilliance and glory at work on this one.

It also gets a Waste of Payroll (WoP). I think the American people deserve 8 years of Presidential salary back in addition to the public servant "advisors" this guy employed.

Okay, enough, I'll get down off my soapbox now.

I was being facetious

Okay, I normally don't complain about snow removal because I think this is a bloody big city and I get that it can take a while to do all the streets. That and I know how hard A's K works to keep the streets clean.

BUT FOR THE LOVE OF GOD where the hell are all the plows? Is K the only one out there?

While I know that bad weather and a transit strike will slow me down, the fact that it took me 1 hr and 25 minutes to get the 8.5 km to work and not ONE of the streets I drive on (major routes might I add - like Bronson and Hunt Club) were plowed. In fact, I saw 3 sidewalk plows. 3! But not one plow.

In fact, the roads were in such bad shape that you know how people follow the tracks that have been made by the cars before them? Well, on Bronson, they went all over the place. I drove on the gravel shoulder at one point because that's where the tracks went. And I drove OVER THE YELLOW LINE because that's where the tracks went. Granted the other side of the road was way over in the ditch so you could have easily fit, oh, I dunno, a PLOW in between us so I wasn't in any danger. But for the most part, I came up Bronson with the white line that separates your lane from the shoulder running down the middle of my car.

W. T. F.

So I did what I have dreaded doing - I called the city. I got a nice guy on the phone, Patrick, who I was very nice too and joking with to say that I know it's not him and I'm sorry to start his day off with a complaint but I had to call. I asked if the plows were on strike with OC transpo. He said no, they weren't. Thanks Patrick, I think I was being facetious. Anyways, we mutually complained and agreed that he, nor I nor the 3 other people who came from Orleans, Barrhaven and Stittsville that I shared an elevator with this am (no Santa sightings today) had seen a plow on their drives in this am. Apparently there's 400 pieces of equipment on the road. 3 of which were plowing sidewalks on Hunt Club. Awesome.

So complaint ticket 44149 has been sent to the roads department the cosmic void.

(there's a "one way ticket to hell" label on this for all the cussin')

Dude, I'm not even prepared

So last Christmas I had these grandiose plans of making an emergency survival kit and gettin' ready for the next apocalypse (read: ice storm) to be outlasted with proper supplies like water, can openers, flashlights and batteries, a hand-cranked radio and canned goods. Buuuutttt, I didn't. But I've got until 2012 anyways so you know, no biggie. And besides, if it really is an apocalypse, according to dictionary.com, I won't be saved anyways because I'm not within the righteous class of folk - self-righteous, maybe, not righteous.

With the onset of the holidays, I'm yet again considering the emergency kit. And as much as I love my animals and feel that they are very much family, I hadn't considered really what to do with them. Leave the container of food out for them, open with mixing bowls of water all over the place? Think that'll cover it?

Apparently I'm a bad pet owner for even considering this when you can get your animals properly "prepared". Or maybe it's just that I'm not as easily guilted into this like our ugly step-cousins to the south are because they see how their federal agencies do not act in emergency situations.

I dance like he waves his arms

Soooo funny - especially for the Albertasauras blog.

Let's just remember one thing, fat boy

I just took the elevator with Santa. I figured this was prime opportunity to ask him for presents without having to pay some ridiculous sitting fee at the mall.

I asked him for two more dodge ball players for my Wednesday night team.

He looked at me like I was crazy.

Yeah, let's just remember who's dressed up like some mythical being and riding around in elevators, fat boy.

Apparently starting conversations with...

"so if I were to be pulled over by the cops and they asked for my license and registration, what would I give them? Those little pink sheets?"

...makes people think you've been pulled over and they start to laugh.

In fact, I was NOT pulled over but was just preparing for it. I've had it in my bones that my time is due for a ticket or an accident (just like I know one day I will break my femur and probably the right one, not the left one). Statistically, I can't go much longer without one or the other, it's just the odds. So like the diligent car owner, I'm prepping so I don't look like (more of) an ass when it does happen.

And if truth be told, the anonymous person I called who started to laugh at me didn't know themselves exactly what the registration was. So that person learned something too. So there. Shake your head in speechlessness at the both of us, not just me.

BTW, thanks for having the correct answer, spouse of anonymous person. ;o)

Dodge ball skills + babysitting = scarred for life

So, you know, I had grandiose plans for the weekend: cleaning, Christmas shopping, watching TV and catching up on everything I've missed on RoD lately. You know, all good stuff.

And then my brother and sister-in-law called around noon on Saturday and bribed me into babysitting with promises of my own personal diaper changer, good dinner, movies of my choice and early Christmas presents. How's a gal to say no to that?

Easy.

NO!

If I had just said no....but then you wouldn't be so entertained by that story now would you.

Fast forward 6 hours later and I'm at their house babysitting the boys (4 year old twins and their 4 month old baby brother) and trying to do my own bribing of trade offs for eating chicken pot pie. While I have been slowly exposed to the idea of compromise as my nephews are getting older, little did I realize that there was THAT much compromise in just getting them to do the simplest of things. Egads.

Also, I had decided I was going to play it cool and change my OWN diapers this time. I survived the first mess which didn't constitute a #1 or a #2 and was rank beyond description. I even managed to get through getting puked on. It was when I decided little baby C needed to get into pjs and have a diaper change that things went to hell in a handbasket.

So, apparently if you take your sweet ass time getting a diaper ready for a little boy they pee on you? WTF. I didn't get full on pee in face or anything because I'm a master dodger. But there was still a temper tantrum "EW EW EW EW EW" shrieking while furiously stripping to the background music of a 4 month old's giggles. Yeah, I know you're picturing it and either disgusted with me (from the non-breeders) or laughing your asses off (from the breeders). And yeah, he was laughing. LAUGH-ING.

*inside voice: someone's inheritance just shrunk a little*

Let's just say next time, I'm making full use of grandma next door and her master diaper changing skills.

I pulled a fast one and I didn't even know it

Okay, I know that owning a car has some necessary evils in costs that you have to pay. I can accept that. However, I can't accept get upset over LOATHE the fact that I have to make after-market upgrades to things that should just work better or should be adjusted to suit the market the car is sold in.

I need new wipers. Mine freeze up and suck arse. I was going to wait until Xmas to do them with my brother but figured if le ex could change them, it can't be that hard to do. So last night I got out my measuring tape and measured all 3 and then called my brother to make sure I had done it right. We had a 10 minute conversation re. buying them, what to get, what not to get, etc.

While I was stuck in traffic this am I was mentally getting prepped for my day. "Okay, gotta do this, this and this and then go to Canadian Tire to get fancy no freeze washer fluid - which I'm sure will be another blog when I try and put it into the car - and new wipers. Okay. I'm ready to start my day."

Then I got to thinking. While on the phone last night, D mentioned that I could get the wipers like what I had on "the Jeep-o" (his term, not mine - you see why we're siblings). Hmmm...wait a minute, I thought they were the regular wipers because when I was cleaning out the garage a few months ago, I came across the crazy winter wipers that weren't even out of the package and returned them. What's D talking about?

Oh. My. God.

(Insert hamster spinning over time in my little brain.)

Le ex put the OLD wipers that came with the Jeep-o back into the crazy winter wiper package and resealed it. I thought he just hadn't installed them.

I returned used, stock Jeep wipers to Canadian Tire for a full refund last month.

BAH HA HA HA HA! Ohhhhh, that's classic!

Who knew mail would be my demise

Yes, mail, not male. Sorry to disappoint - this won't be some scandalous blog posting.

I had a rather shitty day, for a multitude of reasons, today. I don't have many days like this so when they happen, they hit especially hard.

While I seemed to be able to keep it all together and only smashed the birdie at a few people during badminton tonight (no, MH, I did not injure your brother ;o) ), I was feeling pretty good, all things considered, by the time I got to my mailbox.

I get two magazine subscriptions. One to Nat Geo that I love and one to Wish magazine. Wish is a fashion/lifestyle magazine that's put out by St. Joseph print group and purely Canadian. It's great. I love it. I've given subscriptions as gifts. And it's cheap! And let me reiterate - I LOVE it.

And it's being discontinued. That's what I got this evening when I opened my mailbox and saw the note glued to the front cover. I managed to make it into the garage before letting loose the water works. Over a magazine. That was the cherry on my sundae today. A freaking magazine.

For the lemonade moment? If that's the thing that ends up bringing tears to my eyes, then really, just how bad is my life, right?

I can hear you from here, SIL, "suck it up, buttercup!" And while I will never again admit it, you're right....

Life is still pretty grand, ain't it?

AXSD 813

Should you see this A$$HOLE on the road near you, proceed with caution.

I took my sweet time today and left the house later in hopes of missing traffic. For the second day in a row, it took me 50 minutes to get the 8.5 km from my driveway to my parking spot. 'Suppose it could be worse, right? Admittedly, I'm missing my Jeep these last few days as even with snow tires, the depth of the snow and slush on the streets is playing havoc with my driving - kinda feels like the 80's commercial for Slip and Slide - Sliiii-ipe, slipe and slide. Sliiii-ipe, slipe and slide. Slipe and slide, slipe and slide.

Well other than holding on tight and hoping to hell that the big trucks that came barreling past me on Bronson wouldn't hit ice and I'd become their bumper toy, it was a pretty safe drive. No retards...until I got in the turning lane to turn into campus.

When I looked back and saw the speed with which the aforementioned a$$hole was approaching me, I braced for impact. Surprisingly, his snow tires gripped. He got so close to me though that I couldn't actually see the make of his car because I couldn't see his grill. Nice. Retard. If the ass behind him slides, he's careening right into my back end. Nice.

Anyways, the whole km into campus and my lot, he stayed so close to my bumper that I couldn't tell you the make of the car he was driving until I had parked and walked past his. Seriously, are you retarded? I think everyone needs to do a 180 or a 360 in icy conditions before they get just how non-operative your car can become in winter conditions. Now, I'm not a violent person but it took ALL of my will power to not get my brush out of my car and walk over to his car and smash his taillights. That's how angry I was.

So, if you see a nice bright, royal blue Ford Focus with that license plate coming up on you, get outta the way and let the a$$hole find someone else to rear end. And on his way past you, feel free to flip him off - you know, as a present from me.

Thanks for letting me rant - I needed that. It was either blog about it or be sitting at the campus bar when it opened. Or taking out his taillights...

You don't know what you've got until it's gone

The roommate is in Montreal tonight. The house is mine to myself. I forgot how much I loved living alone, even if she is an anti-social hermit.

*sigh*

Almost makes me want to sell the house and live on my own in an apartment just for my own space. Almost. Not quite though...

SO totally something I would do

Okay, we all have our vices. We also have our vices when it comes to dating as well. I have a HUGE weakness for men that speak Spanish. I quite honestly think it's one of the most beautiful languages and while 1/3 of the world's population speaks it, few of my friends do so whenever I hear someone speaking it, it just feels so magical because I know not everyone around me can understand.

This also means that going to Mexico in a few weeks I will be in complete heaven. And I will have to be careful not to be the blue-eyed, blonde-haired gringa that easily gets swept away with romantic notions of the native speakers of the language.

So last night, the gal pals and I were sitting around having a few drinks and catching up after our dodge ball game. Two friends just recently returned from a trip overseas, one is off to Jamaica in a few days and I'm off to Mexico in a few weeks. All being single, we were also joking around about the merits of vacation romances. And this is where I admitted to my vice much to their merriment.

I woke up this morning to find a few messages on my cell phone as it had been turned off last night when we went to the movie. One of the messages I at first thought was my friend P, who tries to trip me up by calling me and speaking French or on occasion Spanish to me. But then the Spanish was too good for P so I really started to pay attention.

Lovely M had called her friend Diego late last night after our outing and got him to call me and leave me a message in Spanish. It was a very PG message re. having a mutual friend who told him that I liked to hear Spanish, blah blah blah, but oh, did it make me laugh.

Have you thought about it?

So, these metal water bottles are all the latest fashion because apparently in my 29 years my body hasn't been toxified enough that now my Nalgene that I've been using for 5 years is suddenly poison in a solidified form.

Okay, I'll bite. Maybe it is - but I'm still on occassion microwaving things in plastic containers so really, can it be THAT bad?

Anyways, today I got home late from dodge ball because I went out with the ladies, sweaty and all, to a pub for drinks and then, on a whim, we decided to go to a movie (helps when you know the manager of the theatre who will let you in for free at the bat of an eyelash). This means my water bottle was in the freezing car for about 3 hours without any heat.

When I got home, I decided I wanted a nice cold drink and picked up the bottle. You know when metal is so cold that the moisture that's in your hand sticks to it and it kinda hurts to touch it? Yeah, that's how cold it was. Got me to thinking though, wonder what my wet mouth would've been like on it.

It's like reliving the slide and cold winter just to see if it's really true what happens when you stick your tongue to metal. HAAHHHH HA! Fool me once, shame on you, fool me twice, shame on ME! I won't be drinking out of it for a few more minutes until it warms up. I learned my lesson at age 7....question is, did you?

The biggest faux-pas I can make

I'm about to make.

If you live in Ottawa, the last thing you should ever admit to is not giving two hoots about politics.

I don't give two hoots about politics.

I don't stay up-to-date on who's doing what in parliament, I'm probably a lifer when it comes to voting for one party because that's what I've always done, and well, I just don't care enough to make it a priority in my everyday life to care.

But don't get me wrong, I'm like the Senators fans who jump on the bandwagon when it looks like they're near to winning the Stanley Cup (I know, I'm pretty impressed that I remembered the name of that trophy too). It's like all of a sudden the last thing you should ever utter is "I don't care about the Senators" because that's like saying you hate skating on the canal in the winter.

Yup, I just made that Ottawa faux-pas too!

Anyways, I digress. I will all of a sudden read up on the political parties websites (on election day, of course) of their platforms and their soon-to-be broken promises and will diligently exercise my democratic right as a Canadian and show up to vote. If anything, I do it to pay homage to those that fought so diligently to earn me my right to have that vote and I value it too much to not at least put SOME effort into making an informed decision.

The is all a precursor to what I was exposed to today that I wasn't prepared for. I have now seen signs in windows of houses and in cars driving around saying "I support a coalition"

And the pessimistic, disenchanted voter in me said "UGGGHHHHH, didn't we just go through an election where my visual senses were assaulted every time I left the house? ENOUGH! UNCLE!"

That's my rant of the day. That and I'm pretty sure that all of the money I sunk into my cat getting radioactive treatment has gone down the drain because it hasn't worked. I'll find out for sure on Monday.

Happy wasted time and money day to me - on many fronts. ;o)

For Uncle Kevin

SIL, there was a reason we couldn't remember anything past the 7 packs of smokes.

I'm bringing the 80's back

I was on the phone with M the other day when she made reference to her "ghetto screen" and I heard "ghettoblaster" to which I said, "WHAT DID YOU SAY?!?!" After she clarified my misinterpretation, I told her what I thought I heard and she said, "oh yeah, I remember that".

And with that, I've decided to bring some words from the 80's (and probably early 90's) back à la JT - and oh, it's going to be sexy.

Here are my favs:

-AWESOME (yup, seen it in a few blog posts and FB status updates from me lately, haven't you?!?!)

-Ghettoblaster (this was one of my mom's favourite words when I was growing up - "turn that ghettoblaster off!")

-Barf! (you know, to describe something awful)

-Bogus

-Butt Ugly

-Chill (also chill pill - 10 bucks to the person who last used this in their status updates, C!)

-Dweeb

-For sure/Fer shur

-gnarly

-hoser (that one is for Uncle Kevin, SIL)

-(anything)-o-rama especially if used for names: Sean-o-rama!

-poser - that's for you JB!

-rad

-skank

-spaz, spazzing

-psyched/stoked

-wicked


Wanna know what's even scarier - I still use some of these! BAH HA HA HA HA! Ohhh, that's awe-some! ;o)

Add some of your own in a comment...

And for a real flash back, check this out. I forgot the binders with the flap that velcroed over. You know, this is why it's just not cool for me to wear anything that's at all made a come back the last few years. If you can remember it the first time around, it's not targeted at you this time around, sorry....

I am a bad, bad influence...

All my life I've been plagued with being a visual person. I remember things visually, I have a very descriptive nature, I am very observant of the world around me and I can easily connect the dots to associate things.

Learning to use this to my advantage has made some improvements in my life - for example, if I highlight the crap outta my text books, I'll absorb the information and will recall it based on the layout of the page, the colour of the highlighter used and even the page number sometimes. I'm a visual rememberer. I am also the type of person who never loses something, well almost never, because I can recall where it is. This also means that I can, on any given day, give you an accurate to about 95% description of the entire contents of my house because I can remember exactly what every room of my house looks like as of the last time I saw it. This includes drawers, closets and cupboards as of the last time they were opened.

Yes, I know. It's freaky which is why I rarely will show this side of my psyche unless you ask for directions and then you see it in true form. Actually, I should use it as a parlor trick at parties - think it'll get me a date? And really, I think this is why I have such an aversion to photos and taking them - what's the point if I can remember everything with such clarity without them. And when I lose my marbles, a photo's not going to help me anyways - you'll all still be strangers!

That being said, you've all recently been exposed to it in one way, shape or form through my "how to be a stalker" rant on the use of profile pics in Facebook and on online dating sites and in my GIS/jizz mixups comedic blunder.

Where I've now discovered it has come in handy is in recruiting of new dodge ball players. I won't get too detailed on how I recently came across a potential player but suffice to say, it kinda freaked out a few friends that I could make the associations I did.

However, I've noticed that this ease with which I show my craziness has led others to get on the crazy stalking bandwagon with me - and you all know who you are!. And for that, I apologize for being such a bad influence on you.

Well, maybe not if it gets me more dodge ball players.... ;o)

Holy crap - time flies, Batman!

Well, according to Telehealth Ontario, my nose isn't broken. It's just nicely bruised. And if that wasn't enough let's add insult to injury - literally. The telehealth nurse chastised me for not icing it the night it happened and taking pain medication. Okay, 1) it didn't hurt that night - it hurt last night and the night before and 2) if I dull the pain before being able to describe the symptoms to you then I'm not adequately relaying those symptoms now am I? Hmmmm? Yeah that's right.

Anyways, you must also take note, as I did, that this is the first time in the history of Telehealth Ontario where I have NOT been instructed to seek medical help in my area. Amazing.

So this am, after a dull ache of a night, cat's yowling for some reason I can't figure out and a bizarre dry cough coming out of nowhere, I decided that I needed some extra sleep and stayed in bed fitfully until almost 11 am. I know...nice!!!!

When I got into work, I grabbed a sticky to put on my monitor that I took this am off and when I checked the date on my phone to add to the sticky I realized...today would have been my wedding anniversary! Holy crap time flies as I think back to what I was doing a year ago - which seems like AGES ago now. Also, I am a little surprised at how I completely forgot about my anniversary. And it's not like I've even once thought about it in the days leading up to it. Add this to the fact that I forgot a certain person's birthday a few months ago as well (until Telus called to remind me which is another story), man, I really do well with the old adage of "out of sight, out of mind".

Note to self: do not date long distance!

Stay away from my trees!

Being the science geek I am, it wasn't much for M to convince me to go to Science Cafe tonight. If you don't know what SC is, once every two weeks the Faculty of Science at CU puts on a mini lecture in easily digestible terminology for the community at the Wild Oat in the Glebe.

Tonight's lecture was on bugs and how they can hear and communicate with one another how we can use ESP to stop different bark beetles from killing our forests. Professor Yack, especially because of her enthusiasm, put on a fascinating lecture and I'll definitely be attending any lecture of hers in the future.

But the real reason I'm mentioning this, other than to be a shameless plug for all the great work that M has done to put these together, is I'm REALLY looking forward to the January 14th lecture entitled:

Cacti in Mexico, New Mexico and (wait for it).....

KALADAR!

HA HA HA! I have GOT to go if only for the SIL. And who knew there were cacti in Kaladar!

Classic.

My "group"

I love my married friends. Especially my married friends who have historically hung out with me and other married people in married couple settings. No matter how much I try and put them at ease over being around "the single person", it is still a challenge almost a year later. It makes me laugh and wanna say "it's not leprosy people!"

So the latest awkward but freakin' hilarious married vs. single moment came today. We're arranging our annual friends Xmas get together and gift exchange with the two couples and me. While discussing details with D we were talking about having an Xmas movie marathon. I really want to watch Elf because it cracks me up. D said "well, we're thinking we'd watch 3 movies so each 'group' can pick a movie".

While on any other given day this may have brought a moment of "oh, woe is me", after my blunders today I can only say...

BAH HA HA HA HA! My "group"?!?!?!?

I replied that this was the best ever single moment because I don't have to compromise on whatever movie my "group" wants to put forward. That and D's the eternal PC person with using the word "group" instead of "couple". And as he put it, he's "an executive in training."

It's a good thing I'm not easily mortified...

Okay, nothing like a dodge ball face injury status update gets you more comments and sympathy on Facebook - or so I've discovered.

People you forget you're friends with ask how your face is doing. I like to think it's all because you think I'm so beautiful that you worry you won't be able to look at me again and see my glorious smiling face.

Right.

In reality, more people are amused that I took a dodge ball to the face and wanna see the damage it did.

Howsoever, I think the ball knocked some common sense out of me. Yeah, yeah, peanut gallery, there wasn't much there to begin with, I know.

Anyways, JJ's poor husband J gets my "I'm a stupid girl and I don't know anything about cars - please educate me" emails and is the victim of my FB stalking because he routinely comes up in my feed for status updates, photos, whatever.

I commented on one such status yesterday where he was bemoaning the fact he would be missing his hockey games this week with the fact that he should play dodge ball and then he wouldn't be sad. His mom's comment to that was to ask what dodge ball was. He replied that it was a game he would not be playing. To which I commented something along the lines that I would convert him yet and who wouldn't wanna play with a mean girl like me who takes balls to the face and keeps playing for an hour and a half.

I can imagine the chuckles as you read that - all of you dirty pervs. Of course, this pure, innocent lassie didn't even THINK about how that could be interpreted.

Until J quoted back the best part of my comment to me and said he couldn't believe I would put that on the internet. And then the guy from his work who I'm actually trying to recruit to play dodge ball also commented "Don't worry. Nobody noticed. I mean, not many people noticed."

(insert hyper-sarcastic tone) AWESOME!

I go between red-faced mortification and laughing out loud at yet another stellar moment of brilliance and glory.

Ask not what Tyler Durden would do...

Ask what Jesus would do (on a post-it):

If you can't read it it says:
Would Jesus do it?
Yes No Maybe Hell No






Would I do it?
Yes No God Knows


And the full pack with WWJD in another post it plus the flags for your convenience.
















And the full set within the decorative gift pouch.

Don't forget to Note Unto Others!



















All your's for only $6.99 (USD) + shipping and handling by visiting www.stupid.com

*Inside voice* One way ticket to hell? CHECK! Disowned by family? CHECK!

It was bound to happen at some point

I have been playing dodge ball for 3 full months now and I have yet to take a real money shot somewhere that hurts or stings.

Until tonight.

The rules state that if you deflect an incoming ball with the ball you're holding and the incoming ball doesn't touch you on the deflection, it's all good - it becomes a dead ball. Did you follow that?

So, I was holding a ball already. Their hardest thrower took aim and it would've taken me smack dead in the chest but I deflected it....

INTO MY FACE!

Yup - 100%, smack dead in the face. It stings like a you know what and my nose and teeth feel a little sore, but I stayed on my feet and threw the ball I was holding - even though technically I should have been out.

But I'm a trooper! Even if it is only dodge ball...


UPDATE: It's the next day and my nose, left cheekbone and teeth are still kinda sore. Think bruises will show up outta no where tomorrow? Those would make for wicked stories.

Is this why people tailgate me?

ABC News: Colour of Love

Hmmm...maybe I should wear more red. Although, the other day when I got out of my red car with my red jacket and my red bag in my red shoes, I think I may have gone a little overboard.

Still, I have noticed red creeping into my wardrobe more and more lately...

If not a physicist, then maybe a meteorologist?

There are now a new group of science geeks who have won my heart over. Besides the physicists and their quirky nuclear humour, I have now had a little chuckle over this recent posting on the Environment Canada weather website:

Eastern Ontario is a little more uncertain as the Texas-Louisiana low intensifies along the eastern seaboard. As usual the Ottawa and St Lawrence valleys could see a mixed bag of wet snow ice pellets and some freezing rain. Accumulations may be reduced somewhat over eastern Ontario due to the mixed precipitation.

"A mixed bag"? Really, they let them write that and publish it online? Apparently the weekend meteorologists are a little less uppity than the weekday ones. That and there's less people in the office (likely) to hand slap them when they put out advisories like this.

BTW, have I ever mentioned that my stand-in boyfriend who whispers sweet forecasts in my ear at all hours of the day and night can be reached at 613-998-3439? If you've never called it, try it and see just how much of a geek I am that I have it on speed dial and it's one of the few numbers I have had memorized for longer than a year.

For M's reading pleasure...

Tim Horton's has come out with candy cane hot chocolate again....mmmmmm - mint and chocolate, my favourite combination. Love, love, LOVE the mint and chocolate.

As I finished the last drop of the one I had bought on the drive in this am, I called around to my work peeps to see who would need a "coffee break" and come down with me to get another one. M seemed a little disappointed when she agreed to go and I suggested we go to Tim Horton's - she's more of a Starbucks, Bridgehead, classy coffee shop kinda gal - and I say that with the utmost love and adoration for her :o)

Anyways, after we got our bevvies (and she was conned into a CCHC as well!) we sat for a few minutes discussing things.

And that's when I had another B&G moment of opening my mouth and saying stupid inside voice thoughts when I shouldn't.

As a student (who obviously was offending my visual senses) walked by I proceeded to say "I hate toe walkers. I could never date a toe walker. I'd just want to walk behind him and push him down on his shoulders so his heels made contact every step."

As M howled with laughter at the randomness and bizareness of this comment and we got some funny looks, I let my true feelings be known - "no seriously. I just want to tell them 'heel to toe, heel to toe'"

Because M begged me to, I decided to share this moment of brilliance and glory with you all. I didn't think it was very funny but apparently this inner rant that came tumbling out of my mouth was to her. Happy Friday, M!

Epilogue #1: M found me so funny she added me to her fav quotes on Facebook but thankfully didn't attribute my little diatribe to me. PFEW. Still, maybe I should be embarrassed but surprisingly, I'm not.

Epilogue #2: I went to proof my edit/addition of Epilogue #1 and saw that I made a typo in my original title of "For M's ready pleasure" - sounds kinda raunchy. GRRRR.....

Apparently I amuse strangers without even trying

If you've spent any time with me, you know I can be quite....expressive. I usually have extreme feelings on things being that I don't just like or dislike but that I LOVE or HATE something. And I'm usually not shy to say what I think or feel - I think the phrase that Mexican Princess uses often is "What do you really think, L?" with snickers after it.

This all plays into my experience at the grocery store last night. I remembered that I needed more fabric softener so I scooted down the aisle with my crappy shopping cart that couldn't steer to the array of options. Normally, because I can't be bothered, I just get what I got last time (based on remembering the colour of the bottle, not the product name) instead of looking at what's "new" and "improved" with ylang-ylang, of course. But for some reason, I decided to see if there was a scent I would prefer more over original Downy.

I got so wrapped up in literally smelling each kind (and there were dozens!) that I didn't pay attention to what was going on around me. Until I got to one that was so wretchedly perfumed that it immediately evoked a "one-eye-shut-puckered-lips-wtf-is-that-smell" face and "OYE! YIKES!" from me.

It's at that point that I heard soft chuckling behind me. I turned around to see a middle-aged woman watching and laughing at me. I blushingly stated that that one was "not nice" to which she said "I could tell" and proceeded to pick up original Downy and move on - a sign from the fabric softener gods that I should do the same.

Meh, suppose it could be worse. I could have texted profanities to her, or sent her dating websites, or just pretended to forget something and beat it outta there in a state of embarrasment. Silver lining, people, silver lining. ;o)

Sometimes other people crack me up just as much...

Oh, this was PRICE-LESS when it came up in my Facebook feed as a status update yesterday:

“what is the etiquette when someone drops into your office for a visit, and after they leave you discover a hair extension on the floor?”

ROTFLMAO. Oh, that's good...

I could fly, I swear

Today at lunch I was looking for some ideas of what to do for new year's (in order to secure my midnight kiss, of course ;o) ) when I came across a party being offered by the Ottawa chapter of the Meet Market. (I know, I love the name too but it totally makes me snicker in an RJ's Boom-boom Saloon kinda way.)

So I went to see what other "singles" activities the Meet Market was offering and I was TOTALLY disappointed when I saw that the learn to fly classes were sold out. Then, in a total moment of irony, the news brief that popped up on my Rogers inbox was this:
http://news.yahoo.com/s/ap/20081119/ap_on_bi_ge/eu_ireland_pilot_breakdown_22

See, this would be why I need to take a learn to fly class. So I could be the heroine (did I spell that right or did I make myself out to sound like crack?) of this story who helped pilot the plane after the Air Canada co-pilot lost his marbles. But really, can you blame him? After all, who doesn't lose their marbles just a bit when dealing with AC?

"Bring on the holiday traditions!" says this single gal

So I was thinking about Christmas and New Year's festivities while watching Sex in the City (the movie) this weekend and I realized, holiday traditions are all about gettin' some lovin'.

Seriously - you get mistletoe with random strangers* for Christmas and then you get the guaranteed midnight kiss for New Year's. Awesome. And I thought I would be sad and feeling a little self pity over the singleness this year. Hell no! Bring it on.

*Disclaimer: should I show up at your house for your holiday party with my own mistletoe, you know it's only because I want to ensure you get your holiday traditions right, right? ;o)

When two religions collide

I was on my way to meet a friend for coffee today when I got stopped at a light. I was behind a pretty non-descript car - well, that is until I noticed the cracked windshield. Now, why people drive around with cracked windshields is beyond me. To me, that's just a no brainer re. things that need to get fixed because you don't want the integrity of the safety of the car being compromised. But what do I know? I need my manual to buy tires.

So then I started to look at the rest of the car and noticed a dent in the trunk and two items that clearly stated his and her religious affiliations affixed to the back of the car.

The Jesus fish magnet and a Chicago cubs bumper sticker with just the C in it.

Is this what my job has come to?

http://view.break.com/542649 - Watch more free videos


Thanks, A, that was one frickin' hilarious video.

Oh, that kills me

I'm trying to get some work done. But it's after hours, it's dark outside and I have to leave for badminton ('nuff snickers outta you jocks who call it a non-sport) in about an hour.

So I decided to clean up my computer a bit in preparation for migration to my new laptop. Yup, days later I'm still gettin' around to it. Today's task? Clean up the "personal" bookmarks.

Well, you know what that entails, right? Visiting those pages.

Okay - roofing company that never called me back - assholes - delete.

Ohhh, only 34 days until Christmas. Must get on shopping. Must keep.

Hmmm, human genetics project - with a fancy video from IBM. Cool. Keep.

And How to get rid of things - the site that told me how to get rid of that bad cat pee smell when my cat was sick. What else do they have.

Oh. My. god. (*snicker* notice the little g? That's for you, SIL ;o) )

HOW TO GET RID OF GIRLFRIENDS?!?!? FREAKIN' HILARIOUS!!!

Speaking of freaks...HOW TO GET RID OF GOTH KIDS?!?!?! GENIUS!

Genius it is when there's also HOW TO GET RID OF TRICK OR TREATERS!?!?! Where was this a few weeks ago?

Speaking of a few weeks ago, there's also HOW TO GET RID OF LEAVES?!?! What was I thinking raking them up??

In other words, I got rid of ONE bookmark and killed about an hour. I am sooo pro-crastination.

100 and other momentus numbers

Blare the trumpets, roll out the red carpet and throw the confetti because...

it's post 100 of my blog!

100 posts in 107 days. That's not bad. Keeps you reading, doesn't it? We had some rough patches where I didn't post for a couple of days but I tried to make up for those with multi-post days on other occasions.

As I was thinking about how to celebrate this post in the shower this morning, I grabbed my passion fruit cleansing gel to wash my face. It hit me then, that there are a lot of milestone numbers in my life this year. And perhaps it's that with entering another decade those years seem that much longer. So here's your "did you know" and "useless timelines" of my life:

1) This Christmas will mark the 17 years that I've been using the same face wash.
2) I have been single for almost a year.
3) I went to visit a friend who just had a baby and realized the first time we sat together in math class (and talked about sex of all things) was over 16 years ago.
4) I have one cat that I've spent half my life with and another that hasn't even reached her midway point with me yet.
5) I have lived on my own and been financial independent for 12 years.
6) It has been 7 years this month since I finished university.
7) I've been in my career for 7 years as well.
8) I have known my university friend I for 10 years.
9) I moved to Ottawa 11 years ago - the first morning I woke up in Ottawa, I heard that Princess Diana had died - and 27 years ago I watched her get married (one of my earliest memories).
10) My nephews are 4 today - and I feel old.

Brillance and glory is not new for me

So M just dragged me down to the Geographic Information Systems day exhibition with the promise of an aerial print out of my house. The printer was broken so I wasn't able to get one - bummer.

But it reminds me of a funny and longstanding history I have with geographic information systems (GIS).

It was my first day as a co-op student at Health Canada. I had been placed in the Centre for Surveillance Coordination in which there were epidemiologists, GIS techs, etc. While my new boss was walking me through the 11 units within the centre, she said GIS (obviously thinking I knew what she was talking about).

Now, you know how some acronyms you spell out and others make new words? Let's take CSIS for example - we say "see suss" versus "see ess i ess". So when she said GIS, my visual brain saw the letters flash in front of my eyes. A few minutes later we were mid-conversation when I went to ask a question about GIS and (oh, you see where this is going, don't you?!?) instead of saying G-I-S (gee i ess), I said "jizz" to which she said "ahem, no L, it's not jizz it's G-I-S."

For those that don't know what jizz is or may not know their English sex slang, here's your definition of jizz. (Thanks, Urban Dictionary)

30 is the new 20...

My ass.

Look, I expected there to be physiological changes with 30 (along with the mental anguish of leaving my 20s) but I wasn't fully prepared for what they were.

Sure, for years I haven't bounced back well from a night of drinking more than one glass of wine. But I've found that Gatorade really helps that out so with age comes wisdom. Awesome. My hangover that isn't quite as bad as it could be loves that wisdom.

And let's not forget that I haven't had a caffeinated beverage past 7:00 pm for about a year now. Decaf only defeats the purpose but hey, I can deal with it.

And as that crazy character in in Notting Hill states it so eloquently "and my boosies have started to sag" - yup, don't see that one quite yet but I'm mentally prepared for it.

But the one I can't get over - and it's so shallow but has caused me anguish every morning for the last 2 months - is my uncontrollable mane.

Yup, that's right, this is a blog post about the fact that my hair is changing colour, texture and manageability. I know, in the grand scheme of the worlds problems, this is pretty much up there with forgetting to let your nails dry fully and ruining your paint job and reading celeb gossip websites and getting up in arms over what Brangelina said about your beloved Jenny A again. But I tell ya, for about 25 minutes a day, this does become one of my number one concerns. That and trying not to sneeze right after putting on mascara so it doesn't get all over my face.

I know, I know...you've missed my shallow blog posts to counter my heavier "the cat snores and it makes me laugh" ones. ;o) Again, someone pays me good money to use my brain every day - amazing.

SHHH, don't wake the sleeping kitty

Okay, this is just funny. My cat, in her poor old age, is sleeping more soundly than ever before. And she's also snoring. I know, I've heard dogs snore before but never a cat. And it's frickin' funny. Useless info I had to share...

Word to the online dating "wise"

Yeah, so I still have an online dating profile but it's been hidden for about, oh, 6 months and I don't think it's anything I'm interested in reviving. I don't feel the need to even go there at this point as the blind dates start rolling in (keep 'em comin' - they'll make great blog fodder if they aren't great dates!) and I'm just not into maintaining a profile and any mail that may result in it.

This isn't to say that I don't still creep around on the site and look at other profiles when bored. I also find it a very interesting social project to go on at sporadic times and see who's online checking their email. There are the night owls who get on after 11, the "man I so don't want to spend another Friday/Saturday night alone" peeps who get on on Saturday or Sunday mornings and it's always interesting to see who's on on long weekends when friends are out of town or when it's crappy weather out. And it's interesting to see who the usual suspects are that fit into one or several of the categories. If I could write a thesis on this...I may even consider grad school.

Anyways, there are some "word to the wise" tips I think these people should know - specifically when thinking to profile pictures. While it's all fine and dandy to put up the best one ya got (because really, online dating is like online shopping), remember that maybe you shouldn't also have it as your FB profile pic. Why you ask? Well because then you may join a public group (say, Ottawa Sport and Social Club) on Facebook where you can then be seen by anyone who happens to also be on both. And then you may also not be tech savvy enough to realize that an open profile is asking for trouble. By that point, I've got your name, your wall posts, photos of you, etc. And if I've got a visual memory, I can even tell you what street you live on based on the photos you're in because I looked at houses on that street on MLS once and remembered then. And on and on and on...it's like a stalker's holy grail.

Puts a new perspective on what you put online, doesn't it? And makes me sound like a psycho stalker, too! HA! Seriously though, it's all from having a visual memory that says "hmmm, I've seen that somewhere before." And yes, I have creeped out one "friend" on Facebook with the whole knowing what street she lived on based on what the pic of her daughter in her backyard looked like - all because of pics from MLS.

Now you know why I remove tags of myself in photographs...because there could be some psycho stalker just like me out there.

I don't normally toot my own horn but....

I'm good at dodge ball.

Look, grant me my moment of glory, it's not like I was a varsity athlete in high school or university or anything. Sure I can hold my own playing softball but I have found a talent in dodge ball.

For the second week in a row, it came down to me versus almost a full team on the other side. And for the second week in a row, I pegged them off, one by one, to be the last person standing on the court. Now seriously, that takes some kinda skill, non?

Humour me, tell me I'm a dodge ball rock star. Come on, you know you want to... ;o)

Monday dry humour

Yeah, yeah, I know - funny pics aren't NEARLY as funny as my inner rantings ( ;o) ) but I was cleaning out my personal folder in my inbox in preparation to migrate to my new laptop and just couldn't help but include this one.

For my Croc-hating fan club

I thought you'd get a kick out of this...

Reading my blog?

I'm curious. I know my blog is out there and there are people reading it (I can think of about 10 that do based on the random comments I get now and then) but who is really reading my blog? Will you take 2 seconds and leave me a comment to let me know? That is, if you weren't offended by the FB profile pic post of late...

After dark

So I went to St. Laurent today to get a few watch batteries replaced. I now have 3 "new" watches and have still just as many without working batteries. In a moment of self reflection I ended up shaking my head at myself and my consumerist ways - and then I tried to match one of the three to the outfit I was wearing tonight.

While at St. Laurent, I stopped in to see my favourite jewellery friend (who let me pick out a pair of earrings for my birthday - because she's so sweet) before heading back to Sears to get my watches. After we caught up, I proceeded back through the mall.

Now, I probably head into the mall, oh, 2 times a year maybe? I HATE shopping unless it's at the grocery store, Canadian Tire or the bookstore. Show me a mall and I retch on the inside - too many people and too much mindless wandering. I'm a get in with a list and get the hell out kinda gal so malls are torture and I have to be in a pretty rare mood to want to go in one to shop.

ANYWAYS, I was walking past a store that was really darkly lit (ie. it didn't look like it had any lights on) and there were those beaded curtains hanging in the window so you couldn't really see in. I looked up and saw that the name of the store was "After dark".

Now maybe it's because I and I had just been discussing the, ahem, "ladies home shopping party" I had attended back in September but all I could think was "holy crap, St. Laurent opened up a sex shop for Xmas (oh the double entendre -X mas as in X-rated-mas!) , right in the middle of the mall. WOW! Progressive." But as I walked by I looked in to see that in fact, it's a store full of glow in the dark crap - hence the name After Dark.

WTF? Who in their right mind, thought that this was a good business venture. I'm no Dragon's Den expert but even I can see the uselessness of a store like this. Screw novelty - it's just plain stupid.

Did I ever tell you about the time...

Like I do on most Friday nights, I did my favourite weekly wind down and got take out and watched a movie. And like most Friday nights, I fell asleep on the couch until the wee hours of the morning when I awoke to the same 30 second song playing over and over and over again on the DVD menu. I dragged myself up to bed and mistakenly checked my email. And now I can't sleep - more on why tomorrow. Oh, the anticipation!!!

So, dear readers, for your entertainment pleasure, I will blog.

I was updating my Facebook profile yesterday and came across my info part and saw that I had a quote in it. I had completely forgotten about this quote and then remembered the rather bizarre story behind it.

Just a few months after my split from le ex, I had the most bizarre email in my work inbox. It looked like spam, and I guess technically it was. I didn't recognize the sender and the subject line was really odd. I have a preview feature running in Outlook so when I scrolled over the email to delete it, it opened it so I could read it. The only thing in the email was this quote:

History has demonstrated that the most notable winners usually encountered heartbreaking obstacles before they triumphed. They won because they refused to become discouraged by their defeats. - Bertie C. Forbes

It was like the universe was giving me a sign that "this too shall pass". Like, how 'effed up is that? Seriously. No name to it, no nothing, just this quote from that famous american publisher, B.C. Forbes. And it wasn't until I just googled it that I realized who he was.

It's at times like these that I truely believe in karma and the whole what goes around comes around jazz.

What profile pic comes next?

Okay, dear readers, this one may be offensive to some of you. You may not want to read it because it's a "I just don't get it because I'm not a breeder" kinda blog and you breeders may get up in arms about it. I've already ranted about this to my SIL who chuckled so at least I know the fam won't disown me but you friends might. But remember - months ago I warned you to read this at your own risk.

I won't get into the 'round about circumstances for today's non-breeder rant. Suffice to say, I've noticed a trend in Facebook (FB) photos. (And Blogger soooo needs to get with it because Facebook is not a spelling error.)

In my age demographic (let's say a span of 2-3 years on either side of the good ole 20-10), there seems to be a trend in the profile pics people put up. About 2 years ago, when I first got on FB (can you believe it's been that long ALREADY!) I noticed that everyone was putting up wedding photos of themselves as their profile pics. Fair 'nuff.

Now though, I notice that it's all photos of their babies that they're all putting up. While I get that being a parent changes your life in a way no other milestone in your life will, when did people stop being themselves and strictly exist for their Kinder (there's a little random German thrown in for ya today - you're welcome)? I mean, I get the ones that put up photos of them with their offspring, but the ones that are just solely of their offspring? HUNH? (This is where those of you with those types of photos have probably been offended enough and have unbookmarked my blog).

I dunno, maybe it's because I like to see profile pics of people from a sick voyeuristic perspective. Maybe it's because when I look at my friends list I am now "friends" with more newborns and toddlers than I am people my age and that freaks me out. And maybe it's because that's something I'll never partake in and I don't really get the whole parenting thing. I mean really, if we're talking milestones, what's next? Should I post a scan of my divorce decree when it finally gets sent to me? *chuckle* Could you imagine? *more chuckling* Oh that would be funny in a SO 'EFFING TACKY AND IN POOR TASTE kinda way! It'd be an urban Facebook legend of what NOT to do on your profile.

I think I'm going to find a different route to work

Okay, something's going on on Bronson.

In the last 3 weeks (remember how little I've actually been in town and using that road), I have come upon 3 accidents in the same 200 metre stretch of that road.

Accident #1 - Minivan took out a deer first thing in the am - there is now an electronic road construction sign that says to slow down because of deer danger.
Accident #2 - Airport cab hit something that took off it's driver's side rearview mirror and scratched the side of the car. The business man who had been in the taxi and was now on the side of the road screaming on his cell phone at someone didn't look impressed.
Accident #3 (tonight) - rear end collision requiring 3 tow trucks and an ambulance. And lots of backed up traffic.

So I think I'm going to find a different route to work.

I've decided that dating is better than...

You dirty people, minds outta the gutter!

It's better than extreme sports. Seriously. I've now had the gumption (or cojones if you prefer) to ask two people out on dates since becoming single. And even though the first one said "no" (although he still stays in touch--bizarre) and the jury's still out on second date prospect, it's quite the rush. I mean, really, the adrenaline high from it, well, yowsah! I can totally see why people do extreme sports or ride rollercoasters, etc. to get that same rush. It's kind of addictive. I highly recommend it - that is if your ego's up for rejection which mine seems to take rather well. Their loss I say! ;o)

MACK trucks = bad for your car's health

Relax, it wasn't my car that got taken out by a MACK truck, it was someone else's. I just happened upon the scene of the accident moments after it had happened. My take is that the MACK truck was changing lanes, didn't see the black Honda Civic in the lane (it's been raining and the new asphalt on campus roads is really dark - almost black) beside it and snaffooed it and dragged it to the intersection. Ouch. Everyone looks fine, except the Civic, that is.

I can hear you from here MP - yes, I too am glad I drive a bright red car.

And yes, M, "snaffooed" was put in there for your "wonky" reading pleasure.

I am so smart, S-M-R-T

I checked the weather station today and saw that there's a 70% chance of freezing rain tomorrow and freaked because I don't have winter tires yet. With my travel schedule, it's amazing the cats have been fed let alone get caught up on all that needs doing before the snow flies. Anyways, I remembered that the sale on winter tires was also ending soon and then panicked when I saw that the sale would be ending on Friday.

So, I convinced JJ to meet me at Canadian Tire at lunch so I could drop off my car and then pick it up on the way home. I got to CT and realized that beyond 14" tires, I knew nothing else about them but knew from my bike tire inexperience (yes, inexperience as P was the one to teach me that the pressure, etc. is all written on the side of the tire), that there were more numbers and stuff that I needed to get a good match.

I figured it had to be in the manual and sure enough, page 213, there it was.

Into CT I go with manual in hand and get in line behind 3 men. All 3 were there for snow tires too. All 3 got sent BACK to the parking lot to look for those numbers. As the last guy was heading out to the parking lot, I got to the counter and explained that I was there for tires, rims and installation but that I have my owner's manual so this is the size I need. That last guy had a chuckle. Yeah, that's right, the little blondie showed all you big boys up.

Why? Because I am so smart, S-M-R-T.

Had someone warned me...

That my life would be the comedy of errors that it is, I probably would have just ducked back inside my mummy's tummy and never come out.

Other than taking out my own baby finger at dodge ball last night (so I'm now left trying to figure out how to be productive at typing without ; ' / Shift or Enter), here's my latest "oh, L, you make me laugh moment".

Another single friend and I have been discussing dating in Ottawa and how it's difficult to meet people with our busy work, sport and social schedules. I jokingly suggested (okay, not really jokingly) that we do speed dating. If nothing comes of it, I'm sure it'd be a riot for an evening and a story to be told over many a mimosas during single-gal-Sunday-night potlucks à la Sex in the City.

So I found a speed dating site and sent it to myself this am through my gmail account. I expected it to come through at any point and it wasn't, no matter how many times I hit refresh on my inbox page. So I went to my sent mail only to discover that my no subject line, nothing but a link email had in fact gone to...

My divorce lawyer's assistant.

BAH HA HA HA HA! Ohhhh, that'll be water cooler fodder at their offices today.

Oh I crack myself up.

Oh those physicists crack me up...

I so need to date a science geek - or at least a science geek with a sense of humour. I had a laugh out loud moment at this quote that was in the news report this morning from one of our physics faculty members:

A hydrogen bomb is a very effective method for extracting nuclear energy. But it will only heat your house for a very short time.

Shoe princesses, I concede, you've won

Never did I think the day would come when I pull out a pair of heels and opt for them rather than a pair of flats and upon sliding my feet into them think "ah, that feels better."

So shoe princesses, I concede - you've been victorious in converting me to one of the shoe-crazed masses.

You know this is directed at you, Mexican Princess and you JJ, right? However, the day I have a shoe closet in my kitchen is the day that the masses have overthrown the queen. ;o)

West Coast Story - Epilogue

I forgot a few things that were funny along the trip.

In the hotel that AC put me up in, I had a room with a connecting door to the room beside me. I don't think I, nor the guy next door really realized how much noise could travel between the two doors. Now, I didn't really do anything that I was embarrassed about but I think if he knew that I could hear him talking to the TV and himself and his amazing rendition of "I kissed a girl" in a very high falsetto, he might not think the same.

Also, I still cannot get over the number of trucks that there are in Alberta. I know, "you're in oil country, honey" as one of the other recruiters told me but still, I can't see how any of the big 3 car manufacturers can complain about sales in those lines in their fleets when you get out there. Needless to say, it was nice being back in littlecarville last night.

West Coast Story - Act IV

So, at the ticket counter I finally get through the line and I notice this not half bad looking guy in front of me who is also trying to get somewhere. Anyways, the best they can do is to try the midnight flight to TO which arrived at 6 am and then an Airbus from 8-9 and I would be showered and in the office around 10:15. Okay, let's giver.

In the mean time, they give me a hotel room, some meal vouchers and tell me to go wait it out at the hotel. I get a shuttle out and check in where I begin making frantic phone calls to work colleagues to try and cover off my presentation and to the roommate to let her know to take out the garbage and feed the cats. I decide to sleep for an hour and a half and then pack up and head back to the airport. Through security and I get to the gate and it's PACKED! It's a flight of about 150 people (at least) and again, they're asking for volunteers to stay behind. It's at this point I know I'm screwed. But hey, not half bad looking guy is there too. Oh, and it looks like he's been in the airport all this time while I've been napping. That sucks.

Funny side story: no word of a lie, there were 4 brides getting on the plane with wedding dresses and no, it wasn't some on masse oil cult taking their women away so someone wouldn't swoop in to steal the bride, it was just WEIRD. A Thursday night, midnight flight to TO with 4 brides? WTF?

Sure enough, there are 9 of us who don't get on the flight. On my previous flight there were 5 who didn't get on. So, as a back up plan, when I tried to get on the TO flight, the AC counter gal booked me on a direct to Ottawa flight for Friday in case I didn't get on. I felt like it was my own personal Amazing Race. And sure enough, the not half bad looking guy got screwed as well.

So, back to the shuttle to the airport but the shuttle is waiting for a flight crew to come on board. They are with Horizon Air out of the states and they slowly trickly into the shuttle. We have a gay old time chatting about flying and my adventures and the one flight attendant actually comments that she thinks I'm hilarious and wishes I had been on her flight because I'm so easy going.

This is where I mention that I have not ONCE yelled, gotten irate, raised my voice, been nasty or huffy, and have said please and thank you with a smile on my face through the whole ordeal.

Why you ask?

Because it's not their fault. It's a company policy. And no matter what I do, I'm not getting on the flight and if anything, they'll do like they did with the one guy and call the airport police to give him a talking to for getting nasty with the gate staff. More flies with honey. But believe me, it will be a wrath to AC customer service when I feel up to it. Right now, just too glad to be home to be angry.

So, the hotel calls the shuttle to ask if he's still there and can he wait. I've now been waiting in the shuttle for an HOUR and it's around 1:15 am. And I'm still chipper and nice. Because really, where am I going to go. And I'm running on pure adrenaline now so what does it matter - I won't be sleeping at the hotel because I'll be too worried about work. The shuttle is just about to leave with the delayed flight crew (apparently they broke the plane and the pilot and co-pilot were trying to fix it but to no avail so there was going to be a whole flight of people going nowhere today!) when I see not half bad looking guy coming towards us. I say to the shuttle driver that if that's the guy we're looking for, we should wait for him because he's had a really crappy day. Sure enough it's him.

What's his story? He was at the airport for 10 hours, got bumped off of 4 flights and was trying to get to the ACDC concert in TO. 4 flights in 10 hours. That's 4 times through airport security - btw, I have getting my laptop, gels, jackets and carry on bags into the scanner down to a science. It's all good until my shoes set off the beeper thing.

So, back to the hotel for 2.5 hours of sleep (totally 12 now since Tuesday morning when I left Ottawa) and then hours of work to get everyone up to speed. I shower and head back to the airport where, hallelujah, I get on the plane. Oh, and did I mention that in my carry on I had my laptop, some brochures, an extra pair of shoes and a bunch of work supplies - not even a toothbrush or hair brush? It's all good. Apparently shampoo works just fine as stand in laundry soap.

I checked into the airport in Calgary at 3:45 yesterday and got home at 6:15 today. The presentation went off without a hitch and I've got a weekend to recover.

And life is pretty grand.

-end of Act IV

West Coast Story - Act III

So, I get to the web baggage drop off and the guy looks at my ticket and says "ohhh, well, there's something I need to tell you". Apparently, as a regular policy, Air Canada oversells their flights and given when I checked in, regardless of the fact that these flights cost me $1300 in AUGUST when I booked, I apparently just had a ticket and not a seat (yeah, I can hear you from here, Mexican Princess in an exasperated tone saying "have you learned nothing from my mistakes?"). Silly me, I thought they were one in the same.

So the guy tells me that I can check my baggage but once it's checked, it's going with or without me. But he's pretty sure that I'll be on the flight - like 99% sure. So I say, whatever, do it. Because I really can't see that I won't get on this flight. I'm told to check in at the counter when I arrive at the gate.

So off we go to the gate where I go right up to the counter and give her my boarding pass. I get some dinner and we're waiting when they announce that our gate has changed because there was a loose screw in the fuel lines of our aircraft so they need to switch aircraft and it's at another gate. Unlike a cab that comes to the customer, apparently we have to walk to our air cab.

Anyways, off to the other terminal we go. I get to the counter to ask what the dealio is and I'm told to just wait. Turns out that the new plane is actually smaller than the first one. So now there's even LESS space. They make an annoucement asking for volunteers to stay behind and no one budges. My colleague offers up her space on the plane for me so I can get back in time for my presentation on Friday but they won't let her do that.

As everyone is boarding, myself and two other passangers get called up to the counter where we're told we're not getting on the plane unless someone else who has checked in doesn't show. So I mention I have to get back for the am for a presentation where people from out of the city are coming for it and that I have to get back and what are my options if I fly through another city, whatever. Gate guy says there's a midnight flight to TO where I could then try and get a morning Airbus to Ottawa. Other guy at the counter says "wow, you're going to be tired" to which I say "I have no choice, I have to get back" Two minutes pass and low and behold, someone doesn't show. But it's the OTHER guy who gets dibs before me and the FUCKER takes the flight even though I'm standing there and he knows my have to get back for work situation. SO rude because he says he'd "prefer" to go back, not HAS to get back but prefers.

So then I get sent back out past security to the web check in counter to try and reschedule my flights.

-end of act III

West Coast Story - Act II

So again the flight from Edmonton to Calgary was on one of those little prop planes. And this time, I decided to COUNT how many women were on the plane. On the plane of 40, 5 of them were women including me and the stewardess (is that the PC term for them or should I say flight attendant?). Wrong city, wrong city.

I get into Calgary and it's...what? SNOWING? And everything is white? Right, great. Not to mention that my flight was a half hour late (although UMan guy kept me entertained in the airport) but I was supposed to meet high school friend D for dinner. BOO! I did get to the hotel and met up with him for a nice dinner and catching up. However, D's quite the drinker and well, I should have known better. I went back to the hotel a little more than tipsy. I still had work to do the next morning so I got 2.5 hours of sleep.

I managed to get through the first hour or so and then the hangover set in...OYE. I also at one point took count of all the people I could see in the hotel lobby and breakfast area and of the 22 people, 7 were women and 2 of those were myself and the work colleague I was travelling with. Hence, the "visible minority" status update that garnered more attention than expected.

Anyways, my (paranoid) colleague did web check in for her ticket that night but I was busy getting stuff done for the new initiative we had taking place today at work and wasn't worried about it. Why should I be, I have a confirmation number (oh yes, you see where this is going, don't you?!?). So off to U of C and again, a former colleague tracked me down for lunch so that was good to catch up. After fighting for a cab we got to the airport where I decided to stay in my work clothes rather than change and where I printed out my boarding pass at the self serve kiosk. I noticed I didn't get to pick my seat but unlike paranoid colleague, I really don't care where I sit, I'm still getting home....

or so I thought

-end of act II

West Coast Story - Act I

It has been the longest 4 days of my life. I'm exhausted, feel like a kid in a candy store to be back to my life and am thinking that takeout and the couch are the bill of the night.

So, I headed out to Edmonton and Calgary for the last of my recruitment trips this fall. I was at 11 schools over the course of 7 weeks and I'm spent. Living out of suitcases makes life painful and doing it with someone who you aren't compatible with makes it that much more painful.

But this trip was the funnest (yeah, I know it's not a word but cut me some 'effin' slack - I've been trying to get home for more than 24 hours) and most stressful of all.

Tuesday afternoon I left work to head to Edmonton. I had a flight to Calgary and then to Edmonton for the first leg of the trip. I noticed that while in Calgary at the airport waiting for my connection (read the noiseiest little prop plane in the WORLD) that there were a lot of men in the little section of the airport I was in. I figured, meh, whatever, maybe I just have men on the brain - hey, it happens sometimes, I'm single.

So I get on this itty bitty plane and end up sitting beside an oil grunt in the very first row of economy. I am not making assumptions based on dress or scruffy beard or dirty fingernails (although all those supported it) but because he actually pulled out his Shell ID badge at one point to put it in another pocket. ANYWAYS, the "first class" section was actually two seats that faced backwards so I was sitting with them in a foursome with le grunt. The only seat of first class was taken up by a man in his 60's-70's (based on dress and hair colour) and he had a really friendly face. I'm not entirely sure what the story was but he kept catching my eye and giving me the twinkle "I am so amused by you" look. You know, the type that people give little kids who get excited to see santa or whatnot? Couldn't quite figure out what it was about but it started to get to the point that I wanted to say "ok Bob Barker, what's so funny?"

So, I get to Edmonton safe and sound (amazingly) and I get to the hotel where K from public school is waiting to go out to dinner with me. We make it a yearly thing when I'm there to get together and catch up. Over the course of dinner, I told her about my observation in the airport and she was like "Ugh yeah. It's like 6 single men for every woman out here" to which my speak-without-thinking comment was "what the hell am I doing in Ottawa?"

On Wednesday, I also had the pleasant surprise of a former work colleague surprising me for lunch. It was good to see her and I'm sure she appreciated having a piece of home visiting.

Funny side story: You get all kinds at these recruitment events and certain schools you see trends in how they act, what they look like, etc. The BEST guy I've had (over the guy who high fived me for having good enough marks to get into grad school with "that's awesome, give me 5") so far was in Edmonton. He was saying that he was surprised at the fact that we all come together to promote our wares. He thought we would all be really cut throat. The rest of the conversation went like this:

L:No, we're all pretty cordial with each other
English MA student: Okay, so like if this was Survivor who would you align yourself with
L: Well, Ozztrek, Guelph, U Manitoba and Ryerson but Ryerson sends out different recruiters to each event so while we like them all it's never the same person. So they would be like the poor person who keeps getting sent to exile island that you welcome back but they're just not a full memeber of the aliance
EMAS: Okay...and who's the enemy?
L: Well now I'm not going to tell you that but let's just say it's all about geographic proximity. HEY, you have Waterloo pens - think you could go steal us a couple?
EMAS: sure, how many do you want?

For all the headaches, I really do like this part of my job if for only those kinda one off blue moon conversations.

In the cab from U of A to the airport, the Aliance was together and swapping plane horror stories. Little did I know I was about to have the best one yet.

-end of Act 1