There are a lot of things in life that you probably think to yourself "hmmm...I should do that more often". This morning I did one.
Last night I dragged JJ to Canadian Tire because she was hitting me up for a dinner date with her. I needed a bunch of stuff for the house to prep it for winter but knew that I would probably need some help with some of these things.
I'm the type of shopper who doesn't try and find things on my own - especially at any hardware store. It's just easier to ask someone where the ceiling vents are then to actually wander around looking like the home owner idiot that I am. So, I found Don.
Over the course of about 15 minutes, we had great discussions and weighed options for different "challenges" I experience with my house. He took me to other sections of the store from his, didn't rush me, and was just patient with my I'm-an-idiot questions.
So this am, in the Tim Horton's drive through where I was on private property and sure not to get a ticket for being on the phone, I dug out my CT receipt and called the store to talk to the GM.
He didn't sound none too pleased when I started off my "I was in your store last night and speaking to a man named Don in seasonal" but was pleasantly surprised when I said that Don was of great help and went above and beyond and I was thankful for his help. Not that it surprises me, but he was quite honest in pointing out that he rarely receives calls like mine and would be very happy to pass on the message and make sure that Don was recognized within the store.
It makes me think that I should do that more often. You know, appreciate the people who are helpful and nice and genuinely do a good job - especially if they are in a lower wage position where they very easily could be surly with you but they aren't.
That's my random Friday thought. That and I hate it when people wish me a happy Halloween. Like seriously? You want to wish me a happy Halloween? Wish me a happy harvest or like the vet today, a happy leaf raking. But happy Halloween? "Boo!" I say. ;o)
Friday, October 31, 2008
Thursday, October 30, 2008
How could I forget?!?
I had another "celebrity" sighting in Halifax. I was on the same plane as Peter Mackay coming back to Ottawa last night. Oddly enough, he was stuck at the back of the plane and not riding in first class. Poor Petey also didn't have anyone waiting for him at the airport. :o(
Also, if you get a chance to see him up close and personal, wait until he turns around. He has the funniest two little grey patches on the back of his head kinda in a top of the crown spot. Hey, I'm not getting on the man for having grey hairs - in fact I kinda think the whole salt n' peppa thing is kinda hot on men but the inside voice again couldn't help but bubble to the surface with
"oh, so that's where the devil horns were removed from"
Also, if you get a chance to see him up close and personal, wait until he turns around. He has the funniest two little grey patches on the back of his head kinda in a top of the crown spot. Hey, I'm not getting on the man for having grey hairs - in fact I kinda think the whole salt n' peppa thing is kinda hot on men but the inside voice again couldn't help but bubble to the surface with
"oh, so that's where the devil horns were removed from"
Sometimes I shouldn't open my mouth
Because inevitably, stupid things fly out.
Take my first 20 minutes in Halifax on Monday night. Super duper windy. Like "blow your suitcase with all your worldly possessions into the puddle you parked it beside" windy. What's my observation that should have remained an inside voice thought:
This is SOOOO not a sticky lip gloss kinda city.
That's right. My hair was getting stuck to my lips and then gooey. Sure it happens sometimes but all of my freshly applied lip gloss went right into my hair. So this is what I was thinking. That and "I'm gonna look like some 80's freak with super crazy sparkly hair when we get to the hotel."
I also had some other observations while in the maritimes.
For some reason, when you drive on the wrong side of the divided highway or the wrong way down a one way street, the ministry of transportation feels the need to remind you that you are in fact going the "WRONG WAY" every few kilometres. And should you be in the right lane while on the wrong side of the road, they wouldn't want you to be confused with the fact that it's only the LEFT lane that's the wrong way so they put up big red signs on BOTH sides of that side of the road. Right. Ooo-kaaaayyyy.
Also, everyone is your NBF and everyone talks to each other. I had a 10 minute conversation with a lady to help her determine which jacket she should bring to Toronto for the weekend because her husband was celebrating 40 years with his company ("isn't that a long time to work for one company?" she mused) and they were flying him and her in for a banquet dinner and she wanted to do tourist things like go shopping or go to the CN tower but didn't want to be too cold because her brother just flew back from Edmonton on Tuesday and they had to stop the plane in Ottawa to de-ice it on the way home. (Totally off topic - is deice one word or hyphenated?) We established, after much debate and many minutes after I was finished paying for my Fruit To Go from her little university centre store, that she should go with the lighter jacket, check the weather network and bring layers. You can all only imagine how emotionally draining this was for me given that I try and avoid my neighbours and prefer to live a relatively anonymous lifestyle. I also should have known that it would be like this given the excitement of the car rental girl when I gave her my name for my reservation "oh, so you're Ms. Alberta. I've been waiting to meet you. You see, I looked at all our reservations for this evening and saw your name and thought "wow that's an interesting name" so I wanted to see who it belonged to and wouldn't it be cool if you were also from Alberta" to which my response after a terrible flight was a stoney "whaaaaa???" and she said, "oh, so about your reservation" I know, I just lived up to their expectations of Ontarians.
Finally, I couldn't do it. I couldn't have the lobster. I was thinking about it but the lobster tank at the restaurant was on the other side of the wall from my chair and then the little guys started splashing around and havin' fun and then a cook came out of the kitchen and picked one up and put him in a big tupperware container and took him back to the kitchen to meet his Maker. (Let's put a big M on that but we'll keep with the little g god. ;o) ). The thought of him being boiled made me retch (literally) and we almost had see-food of a different kind.
Anyways, Halifax and Wolfville were...ah...interesting. They're cute but not in October when I'm tired, cranky and wishing I was home.
Take my first 20 minutes in Halifax on Monday night. Super duper windy. Like "blow your suitcase with all your worldly possessions into the puddle you parked it beside" windy. What's my observation that should have remained an inside voice thought:
This is SOOOO not a sticky lip gloss kinda city.
That's right. My hair was getting stuck to my lips and then gooey. Sure it happens sometimes but all of my freshly applied lip gloss went right into my hair. So this is what I was thinking. That and "I'm gonna look like some 80's freak with super crazy sparkly hair when we get to the hotel."
I also had some other observations while in the maritimes.
For some reason, when you drive on the wrong side of the divided highway or the wrong way down a one way street, the ministry of transportation feels the need to remind you that you are in fact going the "WRONG WAY" every few kilometres. And should you be in the right lane while on the wrong side of the road, they wouldn't want you to be confused with the fact that it's only the LEFT lane that's the wrong way so they put up big red signs on BOTH sides of that side of the road. Right. Ooo-kaaaayyyy.
Also, everyone is your NBF and everyone talks to each other. I had a 10 minute conversation with a lady to help her determine which jacket she should bring to Toronto for the weekend because her husband was celebrating 40 years with his company ("isn't that a long time to work for one company?" she mused) and they were flying him and her in for a banquet dinner and she wanted to do tourist things like go shopping or go to the CN tower but didn't want to be too cold because her brother just flew back from Edmonton on Tuesday and they had to stop the plane in Ottawa to de-ice it on the way home. (Totally off topic - is deice one word or hyphenated?) We established, after much debate and many minutes after I was finished paying for my Fruit To Go from her little university centre store, that she should go with the lighter jacket, check the weather network and bring layers. You can all only imagine how emotionally draining this was for me given that I try and avoid my neighbours and prefer to live a relatively anonymous lifestyle. I also should have known that it would be like this given the excitement of the car rental girl when I gave her my name for my reservation "oh, so you're Ms. Alberta. I've been waiting to meet you. You see, I looked at all our reservations for this evening and saw your name and thought "wow that's an interesting name" so I wanted to see who it belonged to and wouldn't it be cool if you were also from Alberta" to which my response after a terrible flight was a stoney "whaaaaa???" and she said, "oh, so about your reservation" I know, I just lived up to their expectations of Ontarians.
Finally, I couldn't do it. I couldn't have the lobster. I was thinking about it but the lobster tank at the restaurant was on the other side of the wall from my chair and then the little guys started splashing around and havin' fun and then a cook came out of the kitchen and picked one up and put him in a big tupperware container and took him back to the kitchen to meet his Maker. (Let's put a big M on that but we'll keep with the little g god. ;o) ). The thought of him being boiled made me retch (literally) and we almost had see-food of a different kind.
Anyways, Halifax and Wolfville were...ah...interesting. They're cute but not in October when I'm tired, cranky and wishing I was home.
Sunday, October 26, 2008
In your best telephone voice
So, sometimes I feel the need to share my self-frustration on an "at the moment" basis.
JJ was my intended victim this past weekend. I decided to send her a text message on Saturday afternoon after talking to her loverly husband J who said she was at a baby shower and wouldn't mind a text. So off the text went.
To her house number.
Whoops. Well, that won't matter, it's a house number. So let's just resend it to her cell.
Whoops. That went to her house number again. Shit. One more time - ahhhh, there we go, it got to her cell number.
Incoming text message moments later from J asking if those are my profanities being texted to his house (oh, you see where this is going don't you!).
Hunh? How does he know.
Apparently, you can text someone's house. The phone rings and when they pick up, an automated voice reads out your text to them. I know! Pretty cool, hunh? Until you see what I texted....
So, in your best automated inside voice, imagine the following when you pick up the phone on a nice Saturday afternoon - TWICE!
"The coffee gods are taunting me. Those fuckers."
Apparently, no other word is quite as funny in automated voice speak than the word "fuckers".
Oh, the mortification.
JJ was my intended victim this past weekend. I decided to send her a text message on Saturday afternoon after talking to her loverly husband J who said she was at a baby shower and wouldn't mind a text. So off the text went.
To her house number.
Whoops. Well, that won't matter, it's a house number. So let's just resend it to her cell.
Whoops. That went to her house number again. Shit. One more time - ahhhh, there we go, it got to her cell number.
Incoming text message moments later from J asking if those are my profanities being texted to his house (oh, you see where this is going don't you!).
Hunh? How does he know.
Apparently, you can text someone's house. The phone rings and when they pick up, an automated voice reads out your text to them. I know! Pretty cool, hunh? Until you see what I texted....
So, in your best automated inside voice, imagine the following when you pick up the phone on a nice Saturday afternoon - TWICE!
"The coffee gods are taunting me. Those fuckers."
Apparently, no other word is quite as funny in automated voice speak than the word "fuckers".
Oh, the mortification.
Friday, October 24, 2008
Oye - I'm tired
Alright fan club, I know you've missed me so even though I'm feeling TOTALLY uninspired to write something, I'm succumbing to your pressure to write something, ANYTHING for your reading pleasure.
I've been on the road for work for a few weeks now. This week was really bad - I was super homesick for some reason and just wanted to be home. Plus, when you travel with someone and are basically living on top of them for 3 days, tensions begin to run high. I have never been moodier in my life...and that's putting it mildly.
So here are some random thoughts of this past week
Celebrity sighting of the week: We're on the 403 and A won't let me drive (I drive too slow for her so it annoys her but hey, we're open about our driving styles so it's all good - and I'm okay being a passenger too so it works - kinda...except when she's going 140 and I secretly am waiting to say I told you so when she gets a ticket) so I'm watching the world go by as we travel from Hamilton to Toronto. BTW, Hamilton is UG-LY! But I digress...and so I'm watching this convertible car that is speeding, then we're passing it, then it passes us, then it's in and out of traffic and the kicker is that it has a bad personalized license plate and is this weird eggplant colour. The plate reads "1 4myboo", whatever that means. So then I get a look at the guy as we pass him (he's making a call so slowing down - thanks for thinking of safety Boo!) and I think, "hmmm, I think I've seen him somewhere." So, over the course of the next 3-4 minutes I realize, hey, that looks like that football coach guy that's on that commercial. Now, I know NOTHING about sports but I'm in the car with Sporty Spice (aka A) so I say to her, "hey, doesn't that look like that pinball guy" and she's all like "what the 'eff are you talking about? *insert exasperated tone*" and I'm like "you know, that guy pinball clemens or something and he used to play football for those blue guys - I think they're Toronto - and now he's like a coach or something" to which she slows down to pull up beside us as he flashes us a long huge grin and she's like "oh my god, that's him! Oh my god!" and I'm all like "ohhhhh yeaaaaah, the exercise, sport-challenged one is the one that picks out the celeb on the 403". And then she so didn't give me the props I deserved for it.
Random thought: York University is in a scary part of town. This vanilla, small town gal would have never made it past Keele and Wilson trying to get there if she had done a school visit prior to applying. It was a good event though so that's an bonus.
Random food aversion: I'm so NOT into eating these days. I think my bod is way outta whack with all the travelling and my aversion to bread products and pastries is getting worse. If I never see a muffin, croissant, danish, bagel, sandwich, pasta or any other grain dish in my life it'll be too soon.
Brillance and glory moment: I saw, and didn't speak to, someone Ihave a little crush on know on the weekend. Twice. Why? Because I'm an idiot with no backbone. I'm trying to live by the mantra of "gather ye rosebuds while ye may" but it seems to be failing me when tires hit the pavement.
Pisser moment of the week: Speaking of tires, I need winter tires and apparently they're warning of a tire shortage this winter (WTF?). Speaking of my car, it got keyed last weekend. Nice. And now it has a rattle in the dash. I'm hoping it's a cold weather rattle that will go away. It's received a few fist poundings in the last 12 hours but I can't get it to go away yet. *sigh*
Sigh of contentment of the week: I treated myself to my favourite perfume at Aveda in Yorkdale mall this week - late bday gift. And it was $10 off because it was the month of my birthday. I swear, that perfume is like a narcotic for me. I spent the night smelling myself - fit right in with the other crazies in the neighbourhood near York.
I'll come up with some other funny thoughts later once I have a weekend of "normalcy".
I've been on the road for work for a few weeks now. This week was really bad - I was super homesick for some reason and just wanted to be home. Plus, when you travel with someone and are basically living on top of them for 3 days, tensions begin to run high. I have never been moodier in my life...and that's putting it mildly.
So here are some random thoughts of this past week
Celebrity sighting of the week: We're on the 403 and A won't let me drive (I drive too slow for her so it annoys her but hey, we're open about our driving styles so it's all good - and I'm okay being a passenger too so it works - kinda...except when she's going 140 and I secretly am waiting to say I told you so when she gets a ticket) so I'm watching the world go by as we travel from Hamilton to Toronto. BTW, Hamilton is UG-LY! But I digress...and so I'm watching this convertible car that is speeding, then we're passing it, then it passes us, then it's in and out of traffic and the kicker is that it has a bad personalized license plate and is this weird eggplant colour. The plate reads "1 4myboo", whatever that means. So then I get a look at the guy as we pass him (he's making a call so slowing down - thanks for thinking of safety Boo!) and I think, "hmmm, I think I've seen him somewhere." So, over the course of the next 3-4 minutes I realize, hey, that looks like that football coach guy that's on that commercial. Now, I know NOTHING about sports but I'm in the car with Sporty Spice (aka A) so I say to her, "hey, doesn't that look like that pinball guy" and she's all like "what the 'eff are you talking about? *insert exasperated tone*" and I'm like "you know, that guy pinball clemens or something and he used to play football for those blue guys - I think they're Toronto - and now he's like a coach or something" to which she slows down to pull up beside us as he flashes us a long huge grin and she's like "oh my god, that's him! Oh my god!" and I'm all like "ohhhhh yeaaaaah, the exercise, sport-challenged one is the one that picks out the celeb on the 403". And then she so didn't give me the props I deserved for it.
Random thought: York University is in a scary part of town. This vanilla, small town gal would have never made it past Keele and Wilson trying to get there if she had done a school visit prior to applying. It was a good event though so that's an bonus.
Random food aversion: I'm so NOT into eating these days. I think my bod is way outta whack with all the travelling and my aversion to bread products and pastries is getting worse. If I never see a muffin, croissant, danish, bagel, sandwich, pasta or any other grain dish in my life it'll be too soon.
Brillance and glory moment: I saw, and didn't speak to, someone I
Pisser moment of the week: Speaking of tires, I need winter tires and apparently they're warning of a tire shortage this winter (WTF?). Speaking of my car, it got keyed last weekend. Nice. And now it has a rattle in the dash. I'm hoping it's a cold weather rattle that will go away. It's received a few fist poundings in the last 12 hours but I can't get it to go away yet. *sigh*
Sigh of contentment of the week: I treated myself to my favourite perfume at Aveda in Yorkdale mall this week - late bday gift. And it was $10 off because it was the month of my birthday. I swear, that perfume is like a narcotic for me. I spent the night smelling myself - fit right in with the other crazies in the neighbourhood near York.
I'll come up with some other funny thoughts later once I have a weekend of "normalcy".
Saturday, October 18, 2008
Since when does Hallowe'en=Pornowe'en?
Epilogue: I hate HATE Hallowe'en. I don't like dressing up. I don't like all the hoopla that goes into trick or treating. I don't like being pressured into participating in a time of year/holiday that really just stands between me and Christmas. I did it as a kid and every year felt stress over getting a good costume. I was never the kind that had to have the perfect costume but also didn't want the crappiest one either. But I hated every minute of it - even when I went as Santa Claus or a Christmas present ($10 to the person who can correctly guess how many times I dressed as both of those collectively ;o) ).
So, today after lunch, I went with poor MH and R to the costume store to pick out costumes for a stag they're going to on Hallowe'en. I say "poor" because I pity them, not because they are financially poor - good thing too because Hallowe'en costumes are COSTLY! Anyways, we go to this huge Hallowe'en store that's on Carling to look for something for them to wear and I'll say, there were some pretty neat things in there. However, shopping in the adult costume area was quite the treat.
Either the owner of the store used to direct in the porn industry or somehow, Hallowe'en has turned into one big prostitution/every male sex fantasy holiday. Every female costume (except those that came in plus sizes because we like to keep our shapely women covered apparently) was super busty and super revealing - low tops, short skirts and fishnet stalkings galore. And you name it, it was there: slutty nurse, slutty fairy, slutty french maid, slutty maid, slutty super hero, slutty toga girl, slutty farmer, slutty wench, slutty go-go dancer, slutty escaped convict, slutty tooth fairy, slutty vampire, slutty firefighter, slutty cop, slutty parking ticket maid, slutty witch...
SLUTTY SLUTTY SLUTTY.
Seriously, nothing was PG. So I ask again, when did Hallowe'en become Pornowe'en?
Makes me like it even less, that's for sure.
And have I reminded you yet today that we are only 67 days away from the big day?? ;o) Yeah, I knew you'd appreciate that....
So, today after lunch, I went with poor MH and R to the costume store to pick out costumes for a stag they're going to on Hallowe'en. I say "poor" because I pity them, not because they are financially poor - good thing too because Hallowe'en costumes are COSTLY! Anyways, we go to this huge Hallowe'en store that's on Carling to look for something for them to wear and I'll say, there were some pretty neat things in there. However, shopping in the adult costume area was quite the treat.
Either the owner of the store used to direct in the porn industry or somehow, Hallowe'en has turned into one big prostitution/every male sex fantasy holiday. Every female costume (except those that came in plus sizes because we like to keep our shapely women covered apparently) was super busty and super revealing - low tops, short skirts and fishnet stalkings galore. And you name it, it was there: slutty nurse, slutty fairy, slutty french maid, slutty maid, slutty super hero, slutty toga girl, slutty farmer, slutty wench, slutty go-go dancer, slutty escaped convict, slutty tooth fairy, slutty vampire, slutty firefighter, slutty cop, slutty parking ticket maid, slutty witch...
SLUTTY SLUTTY SLUTTY.
Seriously, nothing was PG. So I ask again, when did Hallowe'en become Pornowe'en?
Makes me like it even less, that's for sure.
And have I reminded you yet today that we are only 67 days away from the big day?? ;o) Yeah, I knew you'd appreciate that....
Tuesday, October 14, 2008
Voting in the Federal Election today...
Is kinda like voting in this month's book club choices.
Background: Ihate HATE the book Outlander (and all subsequent books in the series by definition of being spawns of the crap first novel). I am vocal enough about it to the point that it's an inside running joke with two friends: one who swears by it and has a loaner copy and a personal copy, and one who snuck it into a bag of books she was giving me as a joke because she knows I hate it. A month ago, I joined a new book club where we have 3 books to vote on each month and wouldn't you know it, Outlander is in there this month with The Many Lives and Secret Sorrows of Josephine B and The Other Boleyn Girl (which was in the free bag o' books with Outlander). I wouldn't mind reading either of the other two books.
So, today I get a reminder email from the book club host saying "make your voice count and vote today" - cheeky J that she is. I got to the bookclub blog to vote and see that Outlander has 4 votes *gasp*, Josey B has 2 and that Boley Gal's got none! Crap.
As I place my vote, I can't help but think how my voting decision will mirror that of my federal election voting of today as well.
The players:
Outlander = the Conservatives and Diana Gabaldon = Stephen Harper
The Secret Lives... = the Liberals and Sandra Gulland = Stéphane Dion
The OBG = the NDP and Philippa Gregory = Jack Layton
I really don't want Outlander to win and I can't stand Diana Grab-my-don (easier to say than Gabaldon) - exactly as I don't want the Conservatives and Crappy Harper to win.
I'd like to explore OBG and Philippa Gregory more - just as I'd like to look at the NDP a little more closely and don't have an opinion of JL - but they already have a soft spot in my heart as they have been the least offensive in my riding - know how many trees have died in the last few months to litter my front steps with Conservative and Liberal useless advertising?
I'm going to vote Secret Lives and hope for the best with Sandra Gulland because as the count stands, this is the only one that stands the best chance of defeating Outlander. Hmmm....kinda exactly as I feel about the Liberals and Stéphane Dion.
Really though, it probably won't matter. Outlander and the Conservatives will probably "win" today no matter who/which book I vote for. And did I mention I live in Dalton's & his brother's riding? Yeah, two guesses who's gonna win in my riding...but you'll only need one.
Oh, the cynicism of youth. And they wonder why our age demographic isn't engaged...
Background: I
So, today I get a reminder email from the book club host saying "make your voice count and vote today" - cheeky J that she is. I got to the bookclub blog to vote and see that Outlander has 4 votes *gasp*, Josey B has 2 and that Boley Gal's got none! Crap.
As I place my vote, I can't help but think how my voting decision will mirror that of my federal election voting of today as well.
The players:
Outlander = the Conservatives and Diana Gabaldon = Stephen Harper
The Secret Lives... = the Liberals and Sandra Gulland = Stéphane Dion
The OBG = the NDP and Philippa Gregory = Jack Layton
I really don't want Outlander to win and I can't stand Diana Grab-my-don (easier to say than Gabaldon) - exactly as I don't want the Conservatives and Crappy Harper to win.
I'd like to explore OBG and Philippa Gregory more - just as I'd like to look at the NDP a little more closely and don't have an opinion of JL - but they already have a soft spot in my heart as they have been the least offensive in my riding - know how many trees have died in the last few months to litter my front steps with Conservative and Liberal useless advertising?
I'm going to vote Secret Lives and hope for the best with Sandra Gulland because as the count stands, this is the only one that stands the best chance of defeating Outlander. Hmmm....kinda exactly as I feel about the Liberals and Stéphane Dion.
Really though, it probably won't matter. Outlander and the Conservatives will probably "win" today no matter who/which book I vote for. And did I mention I live in Dalton's & his brother's riding? Yeah, two guesses who's gonna win in my riding...but you'll only need one.
Oh, the cynicism of youth. And they wonder why our age demographic isn't engaged...
Saturday, October 11, 2008
It's my (pity) party and
I'll cry if I want to...(be forewarned, this is a doom and gloom kinda post)
So, tomorrow's my birthday. The big 20-10. I've been looking forward to this day with GREAT anticipation until yesterday when I started to feel dread.
I'm going to be 30tomorrow in 3 hours and while I should be celebrating all of the things I've accomplished, I can't help but feel incredibly lonely. For the first time since he died, I'm really missing the idea of my dad wishing me happy birthday with his cheesy dollar store cards (hey, that's all there was in his small little town) filled with some bills and a few scratch tickets (ahhh, love redneck versions of the "perfect gift"). To add insult to injury, I'm single for my 30th - a thing you would never have had me guess 364 days ago as I approached my 29th birthday.
So feeling royally over the hill, I did what I normally do on my birthday. I haven't worked in about 6-7 years on my birthday - it's a rule of thumb. As I'll be spending my technical birthday with my family tomorrow for Thanksgiving, I decided today would be my "birth"day of whatever I wanted. I started it off perfect hair that will be super easy to replicate (oh yea!) followed by super early coffee with P who was in town for the weekend. I then went to Merrickville for some shopping (mostly because I just felt like going on a short road trip to see the fall colours) and found the perfect gift for my brother for Xmas. Yes, I did Xmas shopping. Sure I got a few small things for myself but mostly shopped for the fam.
I stopped at Starbucks (again) for another coffee and reading and then came home to promptly fall asleep for 4 hours. And that's my day. Sounds nice and relaxing, right?
It was. And super depressing too. So, I'm having my own pity party tonight and when I finally post this, I'm sure I'll smack myself around to start making calls and get outta the house for the night.
In the mean time, for the first time in months, I'm not looking forward to being a year older in 2 hours and 52 minutes.
Like I said, it's my party and I'll cry if I want to.
So, tomorrow's my birthday. The big 20-10. I've been looking forward to this day with GREAT anticipation until yesterday when I started to feel dread.
I'm going to be 30
So feeling royally over the hill, I did what I normally do on my birthday. I haven't worked in about 6-7 years on my birthday - it's a rule of thumb. As I'll be spending my technical birthday with my family tomorrow for Thanksgiving, I decided today would be my "birth"day of whatever I wanted. I started it off perfect hair that will be super easy to replicate (oh yea!) followed by super early coffee with P who was in town for the weekend. I then went to Merrickville for some shopping (mostly because I just felt like going on a short road trip to see the fall colours) and found the perfect gift for my brother for Xmas. Yes, I did Xmas shopping. Sure I got a few small things for myself but mostly shopped for the fam.
I stopped at Starbucks (again) for another coffee and reading and then came home to promptly fall asleep for 4 hours. And that's my day. Sounds nice and relaxing, right?
It was. And super depressing too. So, I'm having my own pity party tonight and when I finally post this, I'm sure I'll smack myself around to start making calls and get outta the house for the night.
In the mean time, for the first time in months, I'm not looking forward to being a year older in 2 hours and 52 minutes.
Like I said, it's my party and I'll cry if I want to.
Friday, October 10, 2008
does that make sense to you?
Okay, I just need to get on my soap box and rant about the City of Ottawa waste pick-up services for a second.
After all my hard work taming my back yard last weekend, I was super pumped to put out my 3 bags of yard waste beside the curb this am in a proverbial middle finger to my neighbours who must think I'm the world's worst homeowner when I let my other neighbour mow my lawn all summer and shovel my driveway if I don't race him out to do it.
So, I look on the collection schedule last night to see if it's a blue or black box kinda day and see no little leaf on the calendar. WTF? Can't be. I must be crazy.
This morning, I take out my garbage bin (have I mentioned that my roommate seems to create a lot of waste and I went from about 1/2 a garbage bag including cat litter to a BIN a week?) and saw that in fact, no one else had any yard waste bags out.
Okay, does the city NOT know it's fall? Do they themselves NOT have to rake leaves? WTF? What are they thinking?
Okay, thanks for that. Now I'm done ranting forthe day the morning the next 10 minutes.
After all my hard work taming my back yard last weekend, I was super pumped to put out my 3 bags of yard waste beside the curb this am in a proverbial middle finger to my neighbours who must think I'm the world's worst homeowner when I let my other neighbour mow my lawn all summer and shovel my driveway if I don't race him out to do it.
So, I look on the collection schedule last night to see if it's a blue or black box kinda day and see no little leaf on the calendar. WTF? Can't be. I must be crazy.
This morning, I take out my garbage bin (have I mentioned that my roommate seems to create a lot of waste and I went from about 1/2 a garbage bag including cat litter to a BIN a week?) and saw that in fact, no one else had any yard waste bags out.
Okay, does the city NOT know it's fall? Do they themselves NOT have to rake leaves? WTF? What are they thinking?
Okay, thanks for that. Now I'm done ranting for
Wednesday, October 8, 2008
I know what I'm doing...
in 6 days...do you?
This may be an American ad but I think it's effective nonetheless.
This may be an American ad but I think it's effective nonetheless.
Monday, October 6, 2008
I have an irrational fear of...
balloons.
Yup. Balloons.
It's one of those rarely known facts about me. Balloons scare the bejesus outta me but with good reason.
On my 6th birthday, I had a McDonald's birthday party in true 80's classy style. The game of the day was who can sit on their balloon and pop it the fastest. I got so hysterically scared from the noise that my mother had to take me out of McDonald's and calm me down in the parking lot. The poor pimple-faced teenager running my party never saw it coming. It scarred me to the point that I refused to go into any birthday party that had a balloon in sight. I remember sitting on a friend's steps just after my mom had dropped me off at one party until they had hid every balloon in the living room. I can now tolerate being in a room with them but I'm certainly on edge.
This irrational fear of them has also lead to a fear of loud noises and sudden movement. Toads also scare the crap outta me as they can sit there lookin' all half dead and whatnot and then take a huge leap. This sudden movement scares me. And until probably 3-4 years ago, I couldn't flush a toilet in a public washroom without pushing one ear into my shoulder, sticking my finger in the opposite ear and then flushing to avoid the loud noise. Needless to say, I don't like getting scared at all. It's actually a physically painful experience for me. I get pins and needles all over my body and my lips are tingling just thinking about balloons. *shudder*
So N, thanks OH so much for all the balloon pics from Mexico. Sooooo makes me wanna come visit. As you point out though, I may be rational if I get into therapy now. I do have 100 sleeps to get over it...
Yup. Balloons.
It's one of those rarely known facts about me. Balloons scare the bejesus outta me but with good reason.
On my 6th birthday, I had a McDonald's birthday party in true 80's classy style. The game of the day was who can sit on their balloon and pop it the fastest. I got so hysterically scared from the noise that my mother had to take me out of McDonald's and calm me down in the parking lot. The poor pimple-faced teenager running my party never saw it coming. It scarred me to the point that I refused to go into any birthday party that had a balloon in sight. I remember sitting on a friend's steps just after my mom had dropped me off at one party until they had hid every balloon in the living room. I can now tolerate being in a room with them but I'm certainly on edge.
This irrational fear of them has also lead to a fear of loud noises and sudden movement. Toads also scare the crap outta me as they can sit there lookin' all half dead and whatnot and then take a huge leap. This sudden movement scares me. And until probably 3-4 years ago, I couldn't flush a toilet in a public washroom without pushing one ear into my shoulder, sticking my finger in the opposite ear and then flushing to avoid the loud noise. Needless to say, I don't like getting scared at all. It's actually a physically painful experience for me. I get pins and needles all over my body and my lips are tingling just thinking about balloons. *shudder*
So N, thanks OH so much for all the balloon pics from Mexico. Sooooo makes me wanna come visit. As you point out though, I may be rational if I get into therapy now. I do have 100 sleeps to get over it...
Beautiful? Are you B-LIND?
Look at this and tell me if you'd want your child's (real or hypothetical) face in this. Anti-children like me? Would you want to see ANY face in this?
And what's with the alien octopus' sticking a soother in it's mouth and the creepy purple sperm thing?
FB, you have GOT to monitor your ads a bit more closely. Protection of the brand, my friends, protection of the brand.
And what's with the alien octopus' sticking a soother in it's mouth and the creepy purple sperm thing?
FB, you have GOT to monitor your ads a bit more closely. Protection of the brand, my friends, protection of the brand.
Lawn Care Tips
*cue music
Announcer: Lawn Care Tips brought to you by the makers of Brilliance and Glory, L's attempt at keeping it a secret that she's really a dummy in disguise.
Have you ever thought to yourself "meh, I'll mow the lawn later. Meh, I'll mow the lawn later. Nah, still don't feel like it...oh, paint is drying, isn't that interesting."?
Well, later finally came round to bite me in the ass this weekend. After my bro's much appreciated comments about the fact that I "need to do something about (my) backyard" the other weekend, I knew I'd need to venture out there to cover the AC for the year and the rose bushes, etc. So, I sectioned off a bunch of time on Saturday to tackle this job. However, it's been a month and a half since the backyard was touched (and did I mention that last time B mowed it as a thanks for letting her stay at my place so it wasn't even me). I have LOOKED at my backyard since and felt the glowing pride at the ginormous weed that was triple the height of my rose bushes - I know, pathetic that I'm feeling all warm and tingly over something that is INVADING my garden and not that I've planted there but if you knew my black thumb track record you'd be amazed anything grows.
Anyways, I realized this was going to be a multi-phase project because there were also now leaves from my tree that needed to be dealt with. In the course of the 3 hours I was in my 20' x 15' lawn trying to tame it, here are the B&G lawn care tips I learned:
1. Lawns were meant to be mowed at least once every 2 weeks at minimum - a key indicator that you've waited too long is that the grass stem can no longer stand up on its own and has fallen over on itself.
2. 7" high mushrooms dispersed amongst the "wilting but surprisingly healthy green coloured" grass does not you a mycologist make.
3. Once neighbourhood cat cannot make it to your rose bushes to shit due to large number of weeds and quicksand nature of excessively long grass, it will inevitably find a nice patch of grass to lie in for a nap and then shit in to remind you that the grass is too long and they would have preferred to smell your roses while shitting and not the 'shrooms.
4. Being "nice" and pawning off stale nuts from Christmas to the squirrels in the backyard (with the side intention of driving the cats on the other side of the patio doors nuts at their inability to get the squirrels who are inches away) can backfire when you discover shells 10 months later with bizarre slugs and earwigs hanging out in them. Be especially aware of creepy crawlies tendencies to get in things when putting said shells within inches of face to inspect that "funny shape".
5. Should lawn become too difficult to mow, fan rakes can have especially good abilities with "feathering" the grass to make it more push mower friendly (if done right). Think Saturday night hair teasing and you'll quickly find the groove for doing this.
6. When raking leaves, it is always best to start upwind from the tree as raking, raking and REraking the same spot 3 times will likely lead to urge to just see if the mushrooms are magical and can help make the whole lawn maintenance problem more bearable.
7. While all other attempts to grow plants will fail, remember that hostas are the ugliest and toughest plants around and will survive even the most horrific of abuses from owners - in fact, they will flourish under these conditions.
8. There is a reason that lawn bags have a "do not fill above this line" indicator. Failure to comply will ensure riping and a repeat of #6.
Hmmm...I think there's a reason I don't like maintaining a lawn. Too bad I can't get the neurotic med student interested in it. Hmmm...maybe if I parked her car in the back yard...
Announcer: Lawn Care Tips brought to you by the makers of Brilliance and Glory, L's attempt at keeping it a secret that she's really a dummy in disguise.
Have you ever thought to yourself "meh, I'll mow the lawn later. Meh, I'll mow the lawn later. Nah, still don't feel like it...oh, paint is drying, isn't that interesting."?
Well, later finally came round to bite me in the ass this weekend. After my bro's much appreciated comments about the fact that I "need to do something about (my) backyard" the other weekend, I knew I'd need to venture out there to cover the AC for the year and the rose bushes, etc. So, I sectioned off a bunch of time on Saturday to tackle this job. However, it's been a month and a half since the backyard was touched (and did I mention that last time B mowed it as a thanks for letting her stay at my place so it wasn't even me). I have LOOKED at my backyard since and felt the glowing pride at the ginormous weed that was triple the height of my rose bushes - I know, pathetic that I'm feeling all warm and tingly over something that is INVADING my garden and not that I've planted there but if you knew my black thumb track record you'd be amazed anything grows.
Anyways, I realized this was going to be a multi-phase project because there were also now leaves from my tree that needed to be dealt with. In the course of the 3 hours I was in my 20' x 15' lawn trying to tame it, here are the B&G lawn care tips I learned:
1. Lawns were meant to be mowed at least once every 2 weeks at minimum - a key indicator that you've waited too long is that the grass stem can no longer stand up on its own and has fallen over on itself.
2. 7" high mushrooms dispersed amongst the "wilting but surprisingly healthy green coloured" grass does not you a mycologist make.
3. Once neighbourhood cat cannot make it to your rose bushes to shit due to large number of weeds and quicksand nature of excessively long grass, it will inevitably find a nice patch of grass to lie in for a nap and then shit in to remind you that the grass is too long and they would have preferred to smell your roses while shitting and not the 'shrooms.
4. Being "nice" and pawning off stale nuts from Christmas to the squirrels in the backyard (with the side intention of driving the cats on the other side of the patio doors nuts at their inability to get the squirrels who are inches away) can backfire when you discover shells 10 months later with bizarre slugs and earwigs hanging out in them. Be especially aware of creepy crawlies tendencies to get in things when putting said shells within inches of face to inspect that "funny shape".
5. Should lawn become too difficult to mow, fan rakes can have especially good abilities with "feathering" the grass to make it more push mower friendly (if done right). Think Saturday night hair teasing and you'll quickly find the groove for doing this.
6. When raking leaves, it is always best to start upwind from the tree as raking, raking and REraking the same spot 3 times will likely lead to urge to just see if the mushrooms are magical and can help make the whole lawn maintenance problem more bearable.
7. While all other attempts to grow plants will fail, remember that hostas are the ugliest and toughest plants around and will survive even the most horrific of abuses from owners - in fact, they will flourish under these conditions.
8. There is a reason that lawn bags have a "do not fill above this line" indicator. Failure to comply will ensure riping and a repeat of #6.
Hmmm...I think there's a reason I don't like maintaining a lawn. Too bad I can't get the neurotic med student interested in it. Hmmm...maybe if I parked her car in the back yard...
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