Merry Christmas To ME, may I get a TV!

As a kid, when I would walk home from school, I would fantasize about finding a litter of kittens abandoned by Momma-cat in the bush. I imagined I would gather them up, bottle feed and raise them until they were strong enough to be adopted. Sometimes when I walk though a parking lot or a snowy street, I look for signs of squeaking kittens still. The only thing that might deter me from gathering them up like Easter eggs, would be that Stuart is allergic. Allergy-shmalergy! I will find a way to get my Kitties.

I personally believe that 70% of Christmas stress comes from having to buy your significant other a gift. It needs to be considerably expensive (so it doesn’t look like you cheaped out), hopefully meaningful in some way, and of course you hope it is something they need AND will like. I mean, I need a dust buster, but would I want it as a gift? No.So to spare ourselves some of the holiday stress, we have decided NOT to exchange gifts this year. Instead, we are going to split the cost of a SICK tv. We went to Futureshop to peruse their selection and I can tell you that TV’s are not as simple as you might think. No more ‘plug and play’. There are LCD’s and LED’s and Plasma’s and Hertz and refresh rates and levels of light and dark in the area where the TV will go and PIXELS! And 1080P and….I don’t even remember what else. So after an hour or so of listening to the man explain the difference and the pro’s and con’s between the models- we are no further along than when we started…now, instead of arguing about size (47” vs 50”) we are now arguing the logistics of having a plasma (better for watching sports) vs a side lit, LED monitor that has crisp picture quality, and can handle how bright our living room is. Anyway, thankfully the decision will likely come down to price on Boxing Day. The better deal wins the dough.

I had a GREAT experience yesterday in an Apple store. Last year, my parents got me an ipod touch for Christmas. From the day I got it, the power button hasn’t worked. I didn’t want to go through all the hassle of finding the warranty and asking my parents for the receipt and having to get Futureshop to fix or replace it. So I basically just accepted the fact that while my ipod was sitting in my gym bag, the battery would drain because it couldn’t be shut off. So while Stu was Christmas shopping I dropped by the apple store to see if they could fix it or had a solution (without any paperwork). To my great surprise, they took one look at my ipod and said “ok, we will just get you another one”. BAM! DONE! New ipod! Just like that! The only downside is that I had to click ‘erase ipod’ when instructed. I lost a lot of music that was from other people’s computers. Oh well, it is worth not having an ipod that will shut off in the middle of my workout.

I am done my Christmas shopping early this year. No Christmas Eve shopping for me! The problem is that when you remove the stress of having to buy that ONE big gift for your sig. other…you feel like you have more money to play with. So yes, I went over. Waaaayyy over. Now I just have to come up with the $1000.00 for the tv…damn!

I am happy to report that in the many months since Halloween, the constant veggies and fish and chicken and lack of all things tasting good, have resulted in a (somewhat significant) weight loss. I even got to the point where the trainers nod at me in the gym now. You know those nerd-bombers that are there so often, they start to get to know the staff? I am that guy now! Anyway, my apartment is decorated to the NINES, even though no one will be there to see it Christmas Eve or Day. Instead, I am driving home to Bridgenorth to spend the night with my parents and then Christmas day, we are coming back to Markham to have a big family Christmas Dinner.

Anyway, enjoy the ice-free roads and the warm Christmas cheer. If you are on a diet, let yourself off easy for the holidays because nothing says Christmas like Shortbread cookies, candy canes and turkey. Be safe and enjoy the time off!

DON'T STEAL DEER- STEAL BEER!

I drive home while the sky is pink in November. Most people think November is depressing because it gets dark so early. I find it comforting to look at the horizon speckled with skyscrapers floating on a pink and purple canvas. There, that is my artist’s vision for the week.

So I am on a diet. Like every day of my life- I am trying to slim down before the shortbreads and turkeys and candy canes of Christmas get the better of me. On that note, can someone please remind the malls and the banks that they are in the wrong month? It is sacrilegious to put up Christmas trees on November 1st. On a similar note, can someone please tell the back-road hicks that Halloween is over and that it is no longer appropriate to have rotting pumpkins on your stoop and corpses hanging in your yard?

Anyway, as I was saying- THIS diet isn’t really a diet because I am trying to permanently alter my eating habits. I have officially cut out ‘whites’ as per the advice of my mother. No white rice, no bread, no potatoes, no white sugar treats. And of course the obvious- no pop, no cheese and no…..well ok, I CAN have most fruits and veggies (lots of raw foods) and any protein (in moderation) I desire. The result is that I am finally losing weight. Along with my vigorous workout regime I have lost 6-7 pounds in two weeks. I have brought soy patties and tofu into my diet. You would be surprised what you are willing to eat when you are hungry enough. I still eat carbs. This isn’t a fad diet. Most fruits and veggis have carbs and I am eating lots of those (at the expense of my bank account). I hate that eating healthy breaks the bank. Not to mention that you have to go shopping twice as often because perishables don’t last. They perish…lol.

And the best thing about my new ‘healthy eating’ venture is that I am not doing it alone. My partner recently picked up the annoying habit of snoring. I believe it was because he had put on more weight than his body could realistically support. He has a small frame and is 6’0 but weighed nearly 215. His most comfortable weight is around 185. So together we are working on resisting temptation and I am happy to announce he has lost about 10 pounds and has almost stopped snoring. And no cheating. Yet.

I figure it is healthy to have a ‘cheat day’ where we get to have a treat we have been craving, but not until our progress outweighs the risk of reneging. I am dying for a slice of pizza, but I will keep that as the light at the end of my tunnel.

I need a good multi-vitamin that is high quality with lots of B-vitamins….anyone know of a good brand?

Frustrating Story of the Month:

So my dad is an avid hunter. Nothing he shoots goes to waste. If you know anything about deer hunting, you would know that it takes A LOT of work to find, shoot and clean and cook a deer. There is lots of walking through the bush, lots of path making and climbing and waiting and then when you DO shoot one, you have a short period of time to gut and drain a deer to make sure the meat stays fresh and doesn’t get ‘gamey’. You also have to find a way to get the 200-250 pound deer back to the Hunt camp and then hang the deer to drain the blood for several days, so the meat gets tender.

So recently my Dad was hunting at his Hunt camp up near Bobcaygen the son of another hunter came hunting and shot his FIRST deer. It was a prize buck, probably a 10 pointer (antlers) and he was so proud, he was going to get the head stuffed and mounted. Anyway- they went to all the work to get it back to camp and hang it and then in the middle of the night a group of gutless poachers came and STOLE this poor kid’s buck. Just cut it down and dragged it off to whatever fate. One of the idiots even lost his knife that he had used to cut it down. So now all the guys at the camp have no deer to show for all their effort. And the cost of a tag for a buck can cost over $100.00 and you normally only get ONE. So if you hear any stories about jerks that steal deer from hardworking hunters- REPORT THEM!

Ode to October...

Thought of the Day:

The most random and unexpected (consequentially the most interesting) thing that could happen to a person would be for you to be sitting in a restaurant (any old pub and grill) and have every person in the restaurant over the age of 70 (and there are lots) break into song. Some very fashionable 50’s swing music would be best. And you would eat your generic wrap and French fries and enjoy some complex harmonies in the rich baritone of elderly male voices. And then when they finish…you realize you are the only couple in the restaurant not in the old man choir….and so you clap, awkwardly. By no means is this intended to inspire an encore. But it does. So you sit through a few more songs and clap along with the wait staff at the end of each one. Yes, that would be so random and interesting. I wish,…no, WAIT. That DID happen to me…well shucks.

        Book Review of the Month:

I Recently finished a trilogy called ‘Chaos Walking’ by Patrick Ness and it has left me feeling emotionally drained and shaken and wanting more (which is something that any good trilogy should make you want). It is the story of settlers on a new planet (and no it is not sci-fi, not really) where every living creature has ‘noise’- a germ that causes every spoken and visual thought to be openly and loudly communicated. It’s a place where women (the only ones without noise) are often murdered or segregated. The story follows the struggles of two teens, searching for safety by moving from town to town, outrunning an army, lead by a crazy and charismatic villain. My favorite part about the books is that the animals have their own noise. And yet, their noise isn’t the thoughts of people, but of actual animals. For instance, a real dog thinks of food and bowel movements and a fish thinks about how hungry it is and a horse thinks about leading and following. The writing is from a 3 pronged, first person perspective.

I think the thing I like best about Patrick Ness is (and I will compare him to the power-house writer Stephen King, in this sense) that he isn’t afraid to hurt his reader. To mortally wound them, even. He doesn’t stand by the rules that there is a core group of characters that you don’t touch and that survive at all odds. He breaks your heart and his plot twists are dangerous and unpredictable. There is no such thing as a perfect happy ending with Patrick Ness (and the same applies to Mr. King).

If you have read Stephen King’s ‘Under the Dome’ you know what I mean when I say you come away feeling like you have been riding an intense emotional roller coaster. You feel a little nauseous, a lot exhilarated and a little sad to be done the ride. It is the same feeling I got from Patrick Ness’s three books: The Knife of Never Letting go, The Ask and the Answer and Monsters of Men. These books are classified as Young Adult Fiction, but the writing isn’t fluffy. It is raw and real and I think these books would apply to any and all readers.

Under the Dome, similarly follows the story of a few core characters fighting the same sort of political mastermind/mayor after the town has been taken hostage by an impenetrable dome of unknown origin, covering the entire town. People die, animals die and Stephen King describes all the horror in an uncaring voice. As a reader, I was shocked and appalled and addicted.

Now, on to real life-

I recently used the rest of my 2010 vacation days to go on a road trip with my lovely sister to Kentucky (and I was teased for accidentally spelling it Kuntucky on a Facebook post, but covered it up by saying I was spelling it phonetically with an accent) to visit her friend and brides maid, Misty. In Summary, Kentucky means (for me) Chicken and waffles, ten hour drives, horse races with teens in prom dresses, Khols, cheap gas and sprawling hills. I think the most remarkable thing about Kentucky is the landscape. The high natural rock bridges and the huge old horse ranches. Old money, so old in fact you can tell they still have slave quarters (even though slavery hasn't been practiced there for nearly 100 some odd years). I have so many pictures of horses on acres and acres of land.

There was even a real castle on the way to Keenland (where they hold the Kentucky Derby). I guess the story goes that a man loved his wife so much that he started building her a castle (and this is in the 21st century and these people are still alive) and when the castle wasn't even complete, she left him for someone else. So the castle sat there rotting for several years and many people wanted to buy it and turn it into a bed and breakfast or a theme park, or anything of the like. I would have probably turned it into a stage for the real life acting of dungeons and dragons. There ARE enough nerds in the world that would pay me a fortune to come and play dressup for the weekend at a REAL castle. Eventually it sold and was turned into a hotel (a VERY exclusive hotel) and several years ago, it burnt down and the public outcry was so huge (people leaving flowers at the gate and crying and being all dramatic)that it finally convinced the owner to rebuild. And so now it stands, proud and refurbished on the top of a hill- a real centerpiece of Kentucky pride.

Keenland itself is another Kentucky symbol. These people are mad about their horse racing. Surprisingly I knew how it worked. Sadly, the only reason I new how to bet on the horse races is because of the Facebook game 'Horse Racing' where you make and race your own cartoon horsies. Lame. I know. Misty warned us beforehand that there would be all walks of life at these Horse Races (and there were). You get the filthy rich, that own and race the horses. You can pick them out because they are wearing the ugly jackets you buy AT Keenland, with all the lucky horseshoes on them. Tacky as hell, but cost like $800.00. Then there are their kids. They are the zit faced ones wearing 3 inch heals and prom dresses and full suits. You can see them hanging out the back of their cars and trucks listening to music and grilling meat on travel grills. Misty tells us they're called 'tailgate paties'. I am sure we have them in Canada too, but Kentucky people LOVE to tailgate.

Then you have the alcoholics and gambling addicts (you can REALLY pick em out, even if it is just by smell) and you have the tourists and visitors. All walks. Speaking of Alcohol, during an attempt to buy a margarita at the track, they looked at Jordana's and my Ontario ID's and just gave us a dumb look like we were illegal aliens from mars. It took 15 minutes for someone who knew anything about Canadian Identification to come and look at them and even then, I heard her say "where are the ages on these things" and after pointing it out, while trying to maintain some form of Canadian Nicety, we got our drinks and claimed a table outside in the sun.

The weather is considerably warmer there. It was shorts and T-shirt weather in Mid October. Except in the morning. We did a cancer walk with our hosts. We had our bright t-shirts and our coats and running shoes and joined most of the town to do a two...mile...walk around the town square.  I swear, every woman I saw had big blonde hair and big blue eyes and was athletic . I just didn't measure up-lol. In Canada, especially in Toronto, I am a minority with my pale features. Out there, I was just one of the masses.

Misty's husband, who is well versed in Kentucky history and culture (when I asked why I hadn't seen many ethnic people and if it was because the 'South' still harboured racist tendencies) said that actually there are lots of groups of ethnic people, but they tend to keep to themselves instead of intermixing, like those in Toronto. He showed me signs of the old culture, where roads were named by the price of slaves and we saw a little town that was separated by train tracks that went right through the middle of main street because, he said, that one side of stores were meant for 'blacks' and the other side was for 'whites'. It was so strange to get a taste of the old world. Even the architecture was different on each side. But now all the stores are 'equal opportunity' (ha) and are mostly cute little boutiques selling toys and books and homemade jewelry.

On a final Kentucky note. The food is delicious. Mmm Grits and fried...everything. I bought a leather jacket because the prices were so good (and the Canadian Dollar was strong, which was awesome). I love Khols. It is like a high-class Winners with more selection. Also- the Wendy's in the USA Sucks! Their menu is totally different. They don't even have a fish sandwich.

And now, a word for MY sponsors:

Dear OSAP,

I owe you lots of money. I really don't think it is in my best interests to pay you back. Ever. The money you fronted me, paid for an education that has gotten me nowhere. I think you should have a clause that says if the education we have gone into debt for, is useless, and never gets us a job earning more than minimum wage- we just call it even. This is because, I wasted 4 years of my life reading about Karl Marx and you wasted 12 grand. Even. Just a suggestion. Mainly because I have to work for a full solid day for free, just to cover the interest you scrape off the top of my bank account each month. Please stop. I am sick of eating chick peas for dinner.
Thank you.

 Dear Canadian ...IBC...Bank,

I owe you lots of money. I really don't think it is in my best interests to pay you back. Ever.The money you gave me in a student line of credit, in the amount of $25,000.00 was a lot to give a 21 year old. Most parents barely trust their 21 year olds with a house key- nevermind a down payment on a house. I squandered the money you gave me on a trip to Cuba, a gym membership I didn't use, a new laptop and booze. I did use some of it for school and for rent, but your assumption that I would be able to start paying you back after graduation, with my high-paying, corporate position, was unfounded. I barely make minimum wage and have to work more than a full day, just to pay off the interest you are skimming off my bank account each month. Please stop. I am sick of living in overdraft. The climate there sucks.
Thank you.

Dear Toyota Canada,

Thanks for giving me a car. However, when you did the credit check and found I had a 95% INCOME TO DEBT RATIO, on what basis did you decide I would be a good candidate to drive one of your vehicles? I will gladly drive your car free of charge. I will even put a logo of your choosing on the side, but I cannot pay $200.00 a month on a continual basis. I can realistically afford a few more months of payments and then I will gladly take the car off your hands.
Thank you for your continued support of getting me to work.

Dear Mastercard...s,

I really appreciate all the HBC reward points and Air Miles. However, because of all your great incentives, I cannot be held responsible for the outlandish amount owing on these cards. The temptation really isn't fair. I feel I am being manipulated into buying new curtains and bed sheets, new lamps and baking dishes, books and boots and braziers. I think it is completely reasonable to assume that we are both equally accountable for my debt to you, so let’s say we split it 50/50.
Just in case you’re curious, these items cannot be returned because someone has removed all the tags and lost all the receipts.Thank you for your continued support of keeping me trendy and fashionable.

With Thanks To Give...

I have never been much of an ambitious cook. I eat and cook like a Torontonian- raw foods, quick and easy. George Forman chicken and 5 minute rice. But recently my sister has been hosting Sunday Night Dinners and it was long overdue that I reciprocate.

They say you should never introduce new recipes to company. But what if you don’t cook? Then everything is a new recipe. I have no doubt I would be good at cooking because it is in my genes. My mom is an EXCELLENT cook because she has spent years and years perfecting recipes and she is not afraid to take risks. She is so good, in fact, that my dad will ONLY eat her food. If we have potluck, he will gorge himself on her entrée…forget my sister’s yummy potatoes or my fantastic devilled eggs. If my mom didn’t make it, he won’t eat it. He will starve with a table full of food in front of him if it doesn’t have my mom’s signature touches.

So I decided (along with a few helpful hints from my boyfriend and sister) to host a Sunday Dinner. To spare you the suspense, it went well- but MAN was it a lot of work! I ended up making stuffed mushrooms (my mom’s recipe) with cream cheese, mushroom stems, onion, garlic and bacon and Bruchetta on rings of French baguette, with chopped garlic, onion, tomatoes and oil, topped with shredded parmesan cheese and broiled in the oven, to start. For the main course, I made cabbage rolls (courtesy of the internet) and I added a few of my own touches to these. The meat mix of beef AND pork had garlic, fresh parsley, rice, bread crumbs, parmesan cheese, and my secret ingredient SHAKE AND BAKE!!!

They actually turned out pretty good. I soaked them for two hours in chicken broth, stewed tomatoes and 4 cheese pasta sauce (another secret ingredient). Prepping the cabbage is the hardest part and trimming the hard veins in the leaves. I had a Lebanese rice dish to accompany and it was basmati rice with 1 pound of ground beef and a soirée of spices including nutmeg, cloves, cardamom and cinnamon. Lastly, I made a simple Greek salad to clean the pallet. (Whoa, I sound like a chef).

For dessert I made an easy….cake thing. It is made with homemade vanilla pudding and whipped cream (together) and layered between a pastry-like salt-less crackers and topped with raspberry pie filling and fresh berries. It was delicious. All of my recipes were good, and will be perfected with time. I could get into this cooking thing. HOWEVER, I was cooking from 12:00 in the afternoon until 5:30 at night. Gah, and it this one dinner racked up a $109.00 grocery bill. And I had to buy a new roasting dish to accommodate the cabbage rolls and THAT was $40.00 buckeroos.

Speaking of delicious foods- Yay for Thanksgiving! Last year I missed my Thanksgiving, which has always been a source of tradition in my family, to go to Stuart’s family dinner. That’s what happens when you are in a serious relationship, sometimes you have to sacrifice time with your own family to have face time with the family of your significant other. This year, I get to commandeer him and bring him to MY Thanksgiving. However, as I have gotten older and our family has expanded, our traditions are changing to accommodate that. This year we will be having Thanksgiving at my family cottage in our little one room cabin with our new stove and new cabinets! Last year, I think they had Thanksgiving at my Parent’s house, while I spent it at Stuarts family home with lots of his relatives. Going from a big family-packed thanksgiving to a small intimate and nature-filled Thanksgiving. It is nice to have both alternatives.

The weather sounds like it will be nice up north and hopefully we will see my aunt and uncle and cousin (yes, only one of each) as well. It’s always nice to curl up with a book by the fireplace at a cottage. I hope you all have a peaceful and safe Thanksgiving and enjoy as much rich food as we will. ~Cheers~

One Step Closer...

On street level, underneath the tower where I work, there is a store called Pomegranate Juice. Every day when I finish work there are big groups of people sitting outside of this store- all NOT drinking pomegranate juice. Sitting in lawn chairs and hooting and hollering at woman walking buy and giving out the intimidation vibe. They are the very definition of Guidos and Guidettes (Jersey Shore style, but without the money). I can’t be the only person that suspects the product that they offer in that store has nothing to do with the red fruit. My theory is that the store is a cover for mafia or gang related activity. I have no basis for my theory other than the reasoning of ‘why would young people hang around a pomegranate store?’

Anyway, that’s my deep thought for the day. I have a Doctor’s appointment tonight after work. Unfortunately I got booked for an 11 hour day (I hope by accident), during which time I need to be fasting. YOU try to run a clinic on zero calories and less sleep. I am looking into a diagnosis for the ugly hump between my shoulder blades. Ironically, they call it a buffalo hump. That’s like, a medical term…or at least medical slang (reminiscent of Rhinoplasty, for nose surgery). Why can’t they call it something nice, like …ok, well there is no nice way to describe a hunchback. So I had a couple of the Chiropractors I work with, take a look and they told me to go see my GP and ask to be tested for ‘Cushing’s Disease’ or any of the like syndromes. Essentially, the cut and dry of it is that it makes you produce too much cortisol (a stress hormone that makes you gain weight). It is a difficult disease to treat, with a laundry list of ugly symptoms…many of which I can check yes beside. To be honest, being someone who has been fighting a weight problem for 3-4 years now, I feel like this diagnosis might offer me a bit of solace for my lack of success. That if the reason for my consistent weight gain isn’t that I am lazy or ineffectual in the gym, I might be less hard on myself about it.

So I saw my GP and he agreed that I am displaying several symptoms that would indicate a growth on my pituitary gland. So today is blood tests and cortisol tests. Tomorrow morning is another cortisol test. And then, if all of my tests indicate a problem- then I move up to specialists and cat scans. So we’ll see. I don’t want to give the impression that I am hoping for this diagnosis, because I am not. It can have dire consequences, like infertility and death. But like that TLC show ‘Mystery Diagnosis’ where people battle symptoms of obscure diagnosis and see tons of doctors (like I have) and they are just relieved when they finally get an answer.

GREYS ANATOMY starts tonight! Unfortunately, I will probably be sitting in a doctor’s office when it airs, twiddling my thumbs…or touching medical instruments. Licking all the tongue sticks and tossing cotton balls around the room. They have big signs posted everywhere ‘NO CELLPHONE USE IN CLINIC’ – Fine! I will just fondle all your things! Last time I was waiting in that stuffy little room with recycled air for an hour and a half. I even read a booklet on the 10 benefits of breast feeding. I turned the examination table light on and then couldn’t turn it off…and had that moment of panic, thinking the doctor would come in and see me wrestling with the lamp and kick me out before listening to what I have to say. Luckily I managed to unplug it before he came in.

Stuart and I will be celebrating the end of six years together this Friday. Our 6 year Anniversary! Which means we will be into our 7th year together. Lucky number 7. Or the 7 year itch. I guess we will have to wait and see which one it is. It seems like an awful long time to be with one person. But I will say that when you get the opportunity to get to know a person that well, you can't become complacent because even when you think you know everything there is to know about a person, they can surprise you. Stuart surprises me a LEAST once a month, which is good because it keeps me on my toes and reminds me that we are ever growing, ever evolving.

Human being are remarkably adaptable creatures. We went from living 40 years to 100 years and we are learning to live with each other for longer periods of time. I was watching the TV show 'I SURVIVED' which is about people that overcome deadly situations that should have killed them. People can be vicious and really evil to each other. which sometimes makes me wonder if we are truly social animals. Are we meant to live in packs? But then I come home and realize that when you find another person you want to share your life with (nevermind how long and torturous it might be), you couldn't imagine it any other way.

Happy Birthday to ME!

So I finally found the new member of my family. Her name is Sashimi and she is a red Beta. I got her at Pacific Mall (which is chaos by the way- take every bad driver in the world and put them into a single parking lot). It was sort of impromptu fish buying because I was really there to get new glasses.

After getting my eyes checked I am told that my eyes have changed significantly in ONE YEAR and that my one year old prescription is now no good. So goodbye brand new glasses (from last year) I am onto my next pair of overpriced plastic and glass. My last pair were ‘Dior’ but my new pair is ‘Prada’. I am not a name brand whore for anything but glasses. I figure they are something I wear everyday 12-14 hours a day and they had better be nice and good quality or they won’t last me a year (not that it mattered this time around because my eyes keep friggen changing). These are the glasses tho--->

Some of you are probably thinking- “why doesn’t she just get new lenses put in her old glasses?” well, because it isn’t cost efficient. Yup, that’s right- lenses by themselves cost more than frames and lenses together. I took my old Dior frames to lenscrafters and asked if they could put new lenses in them and they quoted me $340 BUCKS! But they said the lenses would be half price if I got a set of frames….and the frames are between $150-$250….so…same price with lenses! It’s a total rip off. So to PAC MALL I go to get cheap- Chinese made- goods. Same name brand, same quality…just cheap cheap cheaper! And maybe the lenses aren’t as good of quality, but I figure, as long as I can see, it doesn’t matter how scratch resistant, or anti glare they are.

So the big birthday is coming this week. It’s just so shocking to think that by this age- almost all the women in my mother’s generation had babies and were married. I am going to be 25. I am officially allowed into those ‘mature’ bars that are 25+. I haven’t been to a club in years. I am officially too old for brands like Bebe and Juicy. No more stitches or Garage. Too old. I don’t like this birthday. People couple this age with things like mortgages and car insurance and maternity clothing. I don’t want any of those. Yet.

It’s always funny when Facebook announces you have a birthday and you get birthday wishes from the most random people. People you haven’t spoken to in YEARS. However, if you DON’T get those wishes…you somehow feel emptier. It is sad to think that people saw that little reminder on Facebook Home Page and ignored it. So I hope I get lots lol. Having a birthday on a Wednesday is pretty lame. It’s hump day, which means you can pick either weekend (the one before or the one after) to celebrate. You can’t really celebrate on the Wednesday. It is still too early in the week to go ‘balls to the wall’ crazy, because the rest of the week will suffer, but it is late enough in the week, that you think you could gamble a few glasses of (whatever). I think my parents and my sister’s family is going to take me to dinner at Frankie Tomatos…some Italian joint. I am told I will be spinning ‘the birthday tomato’. Whatever that means. It will likely be a humiliating ‘attention getting’ sing song thing. I hate that. I will be as red as the tomato.

Anyway, to all those Virgo’s out there- enjoy being passionate perfectionists with a tendency towards jealousy and loyalty. Enjoy being artistic and eccentric and sexy! And HAPPY BIRTHDAYS!!!!

BIKINI CONTEST

PAINTED IN MICROSOFT PAINT. THAT IS ALL...

When YOU have cramps, blame HIM!

Menstrual Synchronization has been in debate since the 1970’s. For those of you who have no idea what the hell I am talking about, it is the phenomena of woman’s menstrual cycles becoming synchronized (happening at the same time) if they spend too much time together. I spent some time researching it when my period was 4-5 days late for no good reason (Don’t worry, I am not Prego- it has come since then). I recently started working in an office that is 98% female. Most young and in the their prime stage for fertility. The debate actually isn’t so much ‘how’ it happens, but more so ‘if’ it happens. As a woman, I KNOW it does. But many scientific panels of over 100-200 woman show conflicting results as to whether or not woman’s periods align themselves together after prolonged exposure to each other. They would put 180 women in a dorm together for five months and see if their period schedules changed. In some studies it did, in others, there was almost no support of the theory. Actually, in many of the articles I read, they called it ‘the myth of menstrual synchronization’.

The basis of the doubt comes from other studies of pheromones and their roles in human sexuality. It is unsure whether pheromones even exist and if they do, whether or not humans can sense them. You see, most animals that can sense pheromones, have an oscillatory nose sensor (in their nose), specifically designed to pick up pheromones. Human anatomy shows nothing like that. But that doesn’t mean we don’t have one. Evolution may have made it smaller or almost undetectable as its role in our sexuality because less prominent.

What scientists have theorized is that a woman who emits strong pheromones will become a dominant force in the menstrual cycles of other women. So obviously, someone who works in my office is wrecking havoc on my schedule. I am not alone, in passing I mentioned same to one of the girls I work with (and am relatively close with) and she mentioned she has had a second period in two weeks and completely agrees with the theory. She also mentioned that 3-4 of the other woman in the office have already become aligned recently when their schedules were quite different before.

They say that there might be two strains of pheromones. There is one to lengthen your cycle and one to shorten it and that by emitting both at different points in your cycle; you can affect other women who are around you at the time of emitting. An interesting note to go along with this is that in olden times, woman who cycled together used to be accused of being witches because it was thought that their menstruation changed to follow lunar cycles.

It has even been suggested that men might emit a pheromone that causes women to cycle more often and have heavier flows (ie. a healthier womb). This makes you more fertile/child friendly. So when you are cramping and uncomfortable too often, point those glares toward your man!

Interesting isn’t it?

Now, onto the next thing. My car. I got it, I drove it and it leaves me wanting. Wanting electric seats and windows, cruise control, my deck, sub and amp, my 15 speed windshield wipers, my big door handles and two extra cylinders of power and my gas cap that I can just open without pushing a button. All these things I had in my Grand Am, but it was falling apart and even I can admit it was time to say goodbye before the next $600.00 repair. But to be fair, it is much smoother and peppy of the line. It has a temperature gage on the dash and a specialty clock below the radio and PANIC HANDLES, which are the ultimate because I love to hold onto them as a passenger. It has lots of storage space. Not as many cup holders and certainly isn’t my pretty electric blue, but a boring, everyday silver. It is amazing on gas, has new tires, a big trunk and is much smaller and easier to park. IT HAS ROLL UP WINDOWS, which is definitely a let down when you want to create a wind tunnel by having both front windows down- because you CAN’T reach the passenger rolly thing to get it down…and you don’t feel as cool in a drive through.

I swear though that I will treat this car better than the last one. No old coffee cups and garbage, no makeup stains or dusty dash. But it is hard to look after a car when your parking spot is beside a moron who doesn’t know how to drive. I swear, his car is over my line 90% of the time. And he obviously doesn’t give a crap about his car because the windows are broken and stay down all the time. One of his taillights hangs uselessly at the side and there is enough dents and scrapes that it looks like a gang of preschoolers went at it with sticks. So, it’s no real surprise that the VERY first day I got my car I got a parking ticket (despite calling in my plate to guest parking) and a door ding- from the retard. But can you really prove they dinged you? No. And besides, even if I went after them for it, if they can’t even afford to get their windows fixed, my door ding will NOT be a priority for them.

Before I finish, I have one last juicy bit of info to give to the world (or just those people that don’t know already). Megan Fox- the very one and the same that is considered to be the hottest woman in the world- has TOE THUMBS. That’s right. A flaw. A huge gross flaw. Ha ha. Yes, that is my bitter rivalry and secret amusement that someone as perfect as Megan, might not be so perfect. It is a genetic condition she was born with that makes her have clubbed thumbs. So good! Enjoy some of the images. I know I sure did!

I have lots more to say because I have been neglecting my BLOGGER duties. But I think a single entry can only be so long. I just won’t wait as long next time. Until then, loyal blog readers!

Your Own Estimation...

I am probably a bit of a ditz and maybe a bit of a clutz, but I have never considered myself stupid. You know those people that just make you feel like a dummy? Or an underachiever? I’ve known a few. On my facebook page it says “think highly of yourself. The world takes you at your own estimation.” That is really true. A confident woman is a beautiful woman. But where is the line for cockiness- which makes you ugly, even if you ARE attractive? And when is discussing your achievements in bad taste? Maybe when it is apparent that you, YOURSELF, think your achievements go beyond that of other people. I’ve known a few of those too.

All my bragging rights have limitations. Do you include those when you discuss them? Here goes: In high school I had the second highest GPA for 3 years running. The girl with the highest was a reeeaal keener. I couldn’t compete, but I enjoy a healthy dose of competition.

In University I made the Deens list two years running- but just by the skin of my teeth. In Elementary School I created the school mascot (Chemong Dragons) which is still on their wall today. Unfortunately I sold out, for $300.00 and they bought the right to it and mass produced it in every way imaginable. I would be famous at that school if I had received some good advice about copyrighting my work. I consider myself to be a good employee. I have been hired after every (real) interview I have had. I work hard to get my work done, but I need a dose of colour in my day that comes in the form of Solitaire (it used to be facebook, but the site is banned by my current employer). I have been fired once and been laid off once and resigned twice (to relocate).

If you have ever been fired, it is the worst feeling in the world. It took me two years to get over it and leave my bitterness on the doorstep on my way to work each morning. I can gladly and honestly say that my being fired was for false reasons (if you have ever had a crooked employer, you know what I mean when I say I was bitter) but I was too exhausted by the drama to fight it and take it to the next step- whatever that might have been-human rights or something. One of my best qualities is my sense of justice. I hate when things aren’t Just. Like when people are set up, or mistreated without cause. I have a feminist streak, but that is only because of some of the injustice that is attached to issues of feminism. I hate that woman still make less than men for doing the same job. Luckily I have a job that stops crooked doctors in their tracks. So I get my dose of Justice from that. Before this, it was from doing police dispatching. No bragging rights there. It was hard work. Lots to learn and even more to tolerate. You get a real sense about people when you work in a place like that. You might learn to hate them or maybe even pitty them. I saw a counselor while I worked there. One of the best decisions I could have made. Pride on the backburner and while keeping up with police confidentiality, it helped me get through the day. Long days. 12 hour shifts and then I would go home and sleep in house with strangers that had no regard for me. Loud music while I slept.

What I am NOT proud of was how I scammed my way through university. Granted, I went to Guelph, but I found school too easy. So easy, in fact, that I found a way to get out of most assignment and exams and…work, while still maintaining a mid 80 average. I have trouble fully applying myself to things that don’t challenge me. I wish I was driven enough to work full steam through those four years, imagine what I could have accomplished. But as it stands I have a BA sitting in my desk drawer at home, that isn’t really a real representation of what I am capable of. And let’s be honest, if I decided to say I have a 4 year honours degree in microbiology with a minor in economics on my resume- would anyone really question it? They might ask ME questions, but I know enough about those fields to bullshit my way through the lie. No, I have never done that, but I have been tempted.

I would say I am generally ‘slightly above average’ in every way. You name it….I got it….slightly above average ha ha. Smarts? Yup! Looks? Yup! Size? Yup! Skilz? Damn straight! At least I am not putting on any airs. I have no allusions about who I am or what my limitations (& Strengths) are. I have a temper and tend to lash out. I hold grudges. At times, my self esteem sucks. I have a jealous streak. I shut down when I have to do math. I am easy distracted by bright or sparkly things. I become obsessively loyal with friends and it always backfires. I deny emotional responses to things. BUT--- and the big but in all this is- love who you are! The grass is always greener on the other side, but that goes for everyone. If you traded places with someone else, you might gain a good attribute or two, but there is no telling what you might lose. Don’t risk it.

All for now loyal blog readers. Tell yourself something nice everyday- if you can’t do it- don’t expect someone else to.

Bye Bye Sushi!

My fish died. Now, don’t take this lightly because Sushi (that was his name-note the pun) was almost 5 years old. He was my first real pet and the first living thing that Stuart and I looked after together. He was so pretty-Aqua coloured. I did some reading and I guess 5 years is about as long as they live….the absolute MAX. Then it said that they prefer bigger tanks to little ones…Oops. I had him in such a tiny little bowl. Maybe I will upgrade his bowl when I get to wall mart and buy another fish tonight. That’s right- a replacement! I will call him- SASHIMI!

Did you know that Wal-Mart no longer carries fish? Ya! Damn, now where am I gonna get a fish? Some pet food places carry them but they are always in little cups and look faded and sick.

On another animal note- did you hear the one about the Husky eating the baby? No joke. In Montreal a month old baby was asleep in a car seat and the 17 year old mother stepped out for a smoke (I know, a real winner right?) and at the time there were two huskies wandering the house that belonged to a house guest. While she was outside the male husky mauled the baby to death. They are charging the mother with Man slaughter. I would think it would be more along the lines of criminal negligence causing death but no- they wanted to hit her where it hurts. Never mind the fact that she just lost her baby. Some are saying that the 17 year old isn’t that upset. The baby was too new and she didn’t want it anyway. Talk about divine intervention eh?

So my new car is finally here. I am officially going to be driving a 2010 Toyota Corolla….with roll up windows. It was almost a deal breaker. I didn’t even know they HAD roll up windows anymore. I would have even traded my power locks for power windows. I have a Sub Woofer, but it sucks all the cool out of it when you have to roll down your windows so people can hear your ‘sick bass’.

So my mom had skin cancer removed off her nose. It is a fairly straight forward procedure, but the aftermath can be slightly disturbing. They cut out all the cancerous cells and replace them with skin from your neck or face and cartilage from your ear. They stuff your hole with gauze for a week or so and then you have a small circle of Frankenstein skin for two months until your body accepts or rejects it. If you are lucky there is no scarring. Needless to say, my mom has quarantined herself away from the public eye, but I am hoping that won’t extend to our cottage weekends. I need summer sun! And no one cooks better summer meals than my Mamma!
On a random note- the worst thing about being ‘après wedding’ is having to take off your fake nails. Your real nails underneath are always thin and scratchy and they peel and fold and it is like that for WEEKS until they replenish themselves. Every time I take them off I swear to myself I will never get them again, but here I am.

That’s all for now, loyal blog readers- GO SPAIN!

Looking Better=Feeling Worse

So it’s finally over. Talk about an anti-climax. You spend a whole year planning and worrying over every detail of a wedding and it is over in a flash. If there was ever a wedding to be proud of though, it would be my sister’s. Even the smallest details added to the overall feel and flair of the wedding. From specially colour coordinated place cards and menus, to a candy theme consistently running though the reception. My sister thought of everything and nothing was missed.

Jordana wanted nothing but an outdoor ceremony and when it started to rain the day of the wedding, we all started to get the jitters. It poured ALL DAY and we started getting ready for plan B….which would have been to have the ceremony in the reception hall and move all the tables out of the way and then back for dinner. It would have been messy and disorganized, but thankfully it stopped raining 25 minutes before the ceremony was due to start. Dad was filled with Pride as he walked my sister down the aisle and I held back tears while my sister and (now brother-in-law) said their vows. The ONLY issue was the officiant. Humanist officiants (who are willing to perform marriage ceremonies without religion) are rare and are especially hard to find in the Kawartha region.

To say the least, my sister settled for an old retired couple from the area that had given her attitude from the very beginning. So on the day of, it was no surprise to me that he gave me attitude as well. The only issue was that it was IN FRONT of 100 guests!!! Here we all were standing up at the front of the alter, waiting for my sister to walk down the aisle and I can see her, linked arms with my father, waiting for everyone to rise so she can start the march. I look at the officiant and he is lazily looking at the crowd saying NOTHING. People start to get ancy and look around and to each other to see what they should do. I look at the wedding party and everyone is starting to look panicked and unsure. I see my sister and my dad shuffling back and fourth, unsure if they should start to walk. I look to the bridesmaids and I ask quietly if I should give the cue and I get a curt nod telling me that SOMEONE SHOULD. So I say “Could everyone please rise for the Bride”. Immediately relieved, everyone stands and turns to receive her as she begins the walk with my Dad. The DICK HOLE of an officiant turns to me and announces loudly- “Hey! That was my line- do you wanna do my job as well?” I swear it echoed over everyone’s head. I am shocked, but angry enough to reply with “someone should!”

Luckily, my sister escaped the drama and her grand entrance took everyone’s eyes from my heated face. She was absolutely glowing! And thanks to her lovely makeup and hair person who made us perdy! (I tried to do my own hair, but that absolutely backfired and she saved the day- with hardly a minute to spare).

So the ceremony was beautiful- never mind the fact that the DICK HOLE had a slight lisp and never took his eyes off the paper in his hand and barked orders to the bridesmaids about taking Jordana’s flowers and straightening her train and signing the documents. I had every intention of kicking him out after the ceremony. NO WAY were we going to invite him to dinner or cocktails. But the man essentially ran from us the moment he was done. With barely a murmured thanks, he was gone and GOOD RIDDANCE. The worst situation after a wedding is to lose the marriage documents. Well the DICKHOLE, before leaving, had handed them off to who he THOUGHT was the mother of the bride, but turned out to be our cousin, who later handed me the documents, unsure why she got them. Thank god he didn’t hand them to a quirkier guest who might have kept them as a memento. Ha ha.

I originally had reservations about being maid of honour. Since my recent weight gain, I have avoided photos fervently. I knew that being in the wedding party would mean a formal wedding shoot and that is my biggest fear. I told myself I would avoid as many informal snapshots as possible, while smiling as true as possible in front of the professional photographer. Any photos I smiled for I asked- “please don’t put it on the internet- I don’t like being in photos.” Most people smiled and nodded, but every day I check facebook with apprehension waiting to see myself. I haven’t been disappointed.

When you see yourself in photos, it is a true slap in the face. Most people can’t TRULY see themselves when they look in the mirror. We see ourselves every day and weight gain can seem subtle. But in photos (which are mostly unforgiving anyway) you cannot escape the image by shifting or smiling….What you really look like to others is plastered there. If you ever lose weight and look back at the photos, you will feel humiliated because you let yourself be that way. If you don’t lose weight, you will still just hate seeing the photos because it will be a constant reminder of the way you wish you didn’t look on your sister’s wedding day. It can ruin a PERFECTLY GOOD DAY! So I chose NOT TO LOOK. So stop forcing me by tagging me in an awful shot or posting a particularly humiliating view of my dancing in shiny orange taffeta. My boyfriend can attest to the fact that I watch the screen and my face will drop and I won’t want to do much of anything for the rest of the day. There is no other mood killer, like seeing yourself look like a gorilla in what you thought was a pretty dress and hairstyle.

ALSO- Just a note to all those people who have NEVER had a weight problem- NEVER COMPLIMENT people on ‘looking better’ or ‘looking so good and healthy compared to before” after losing pounds. It is a backwards compliment. You are saying ‘you look better than you did when you were fat’ and it is just like bashing the boyfriend after the breakup- it’s dangerous because they can always come back!

Telling people they are making great progress is perfectly acceptable…but don’t place a judgment on it. Even at our heaviest, we still want to feel attractive and don’t want to be told we were living a lie after the fact. I have even been told “wow Jamie, you have lost so many sizes. You were big before, but now you are tiny!” …don’t say that. It makes us hate you….ha ha
There should be NO better or worse attached to weight….it is just a ‘different look’….no better…no worse. Health should be the only place where ‘better’ can be applied, but I will say that even at my heaviest, I was still strong, could still run and considered myself in better shape than most of my thin friends. My health is not the issue.

So just a heads up for those who think they are doing us a favour….you’re not. Anyway- I sound entirely too bitter for a post wedding blog. It is summer time and Canada Day! Let’s be patriotic and wear our red and whites. See you at the cottage!

Journal-Me-Author

I have been working on making some short stories. I think diving into a full novel is too ambitious for me right now. I might try them out by posting them to my blog. I am nervous because I already let Stu read one and in his words 'I don't get it' and he didn't seem to get my 'flow'. I like choppy. I write, I speak and I think choppy. I think my biggest problem is 'tense' - whether or not to write in the present, or the past and from what perspective. I figured I would acclimatize myself to writing in an 'authory' way- by turning events in my day into little journal/short story type entries. So here is my first one (note this is fiction, lightly based on personal experience):

I think I knew almost immediately that the child in the clinic was being molested by her father. Children have a way of telling you things without ever opening their mouths. I saw it in the way she slumped in the chair. The way she shied away from his touch. The way her hands lay limply at her sides and the way she chose to sit in the waiting room with strangers, rather than sit in the assessment room with her father and the dentist. Her eyes were brown and too big for her face and lacking in animation. She stared at a spot on the floor and did not move.

The final deciding factor was when I started to see desperation on her face and she began to squirm and l realized she needed to use the bathroom, but didn’t want to have to go into the office to ask her father to take her to the public restroom. I watched all of this from behind my desk where I am a receptionist for a dental office and thanked god that I am not a teacher. Teachers are obligated to ask questions and take action. I was merely an observer of human behavior.

Finally the girl caved and tapped on the door to the room where her father was meeting with the dentist and whispered something inaudible. It was followed by the man leading the child past my desk into the single woman’s washroom and closing the door behind them. Of course the bathroom visit took an excruciatingly long time, but that could have just been my imagination. Once the child returned to her seat and her father to the dental chair, I gathered my courage and asked her girl how old she was. She told me she was five and then asked me what that ‘thing’ was on my nose. I told her it was a nose ring, like an earring, but in your nose. Her eyes lit up a little bit when I asked her if her ears were pierced and she said she was waiting until she was six and could handle the pain.

I remembered thinking she could most definitely handle the pain. Little kids are resilient creatures, especially ones that go through trauma. They always seem older than their true ages. This kids’ eyes could have been the eyes of a 40 year old woman, and not just because they were too big for her face. She was a pretty little thing with a long ponytail. Dark olive skin and long lashes. Her father was speaking Arabic, but her English was reasonable. She was small for her age. Could have passed for a four year old, except for those eyes.

How do you ask a child if they are being abused? Maybe teachers don’t ask as often as they should. They are probably afraid if they ask and the answer is no- that it will get back to the parents and they will get an angry phone call. If I was a teacher, I would just tell myself little kids are moody and I would keep my gaze high and away from their eyes. That’s safest. Or you do one of those class lectures about sexual abuse, to not centre anyone out and invite them to come and speak to you privately if they have questions. That’s funny, you know they always tell children to reach out to people when they are bullied, hurt or abused. They have to tell kids that because they don’t do it. They are naturally secretive little people who value secrets above all else. So maybe they should be telling adults to reach out to kids more often.

So I talked to the kid for a little while. She has a brother who has diabetes. He is fifteen. She asked me a hundred questions about my job and my computer and how old I was. I told her I was 25 and let her play on my computer in Microsoft Paint while her dad was in with the dentist. She had never touched a computer before and it was shocking how fast she learned it. As an adult you don’t get things as fast. Your brain isn’t as ‘spongy’ as it is when you are five. I didn’t pry and I didn’t try to council information from her, but I was her friend for an hour while she was sitting beside me. I hope it was enough.

That's it. Not too exciting. Practice for taking a point of view and picking a tense. I am retelling a story from my past and need to consistently tell it like that. Man. I need to take a writing class. I had this teacher once tell me to stick to art when I told her I wanted to write books. I still remember it clearly. I was in grade 10 and waited until after class was over to show her a short story I had written for my boyfriend at the time. She tore it to pieces. I never gave it to him, but I still have never forgotten the characters or the story line. Oh well, I guess if you want to be good at something you need to practice. I just feel sorry for you poor people that need to read the build up. Ha. All for now...

Wave at the Heat Wave!

‘Record breaking heat wave’ was the headline for this morning’s newscast. I refuse to let myself complain because for as long as I can remember, May 2-4 was always rainy, cold, buggy and miserable.

This weekend was beautiful. Saturday and Sunday had overcast moments, but Monday was unreal. I am completely sunburned all over my body and loving it! As a surprise, my parents bought a brand new Yamaha Wave Runner for our family. It was an absolute blast. It runs fairly quiet and has enough power to tow us around the lake on tubes and anything else we can find. We attempted using a foam block and a blow up raft (but they both failed miserably).
On top of that, everyone bought fireworks and together we created a professional-grade display. It went on for a couple of minutes and was outstanding in a perfectly black sky, with no light pollution to stunt the show. Unfortunately there was no one on the lake to show it off to, except a couple of canoeists camping on an island, but I somehow think they weren’t overly appreciative of our late night antics.

We stayed up to the early morning, just the six of us around the bonfire, roasting giant marshmallows and listening to the radio while draining the car battery. These are the things you resort to when you only have propane power at the cottage. There was lots of food, a fully stocked bar and even some specialty tequila to spice up the evening…and the morning.
I finally started writing my book.

I only have four or five pages, but it’s a start. It is amazing when you finally start doing something you have been dreaming about doing, it sort of sucks the fun right out of it.

For my sisters wedding I am required to get a spray tan,....and in my experience: So for the nex four weeks it is tanning, eating right, teeth whitening and crunches....maybe. Until next time loyal blog readers....if there are any.

What a Beautiful Fever you Have...

The problem when you have a fever is that you look unusually healthy. There is a slight flush to your cheeks, your eyes go extra bright, and you skin has an uncommon luminescence (which is actually just a sheer coating of sweat all over your body). So try telling your new job that you are so ill, you have to leave for the second half of the afternoon, when they have already complimented your appearance. Yup, just my luck! Three days into the new job I am struck with the flue. Like a freight train running clear through my day. Fever, achy eyes and head, sore throat, chills, cough, nasal congestion. And I didn’t even read those off of a bottle of flu meds. So Monday through Wednesday, I fought through my delirium. Feverishly I greeted patients and answered phones, while having an out of body experience ha ha.

By the third day, when the cough turned ugly and doctors and patients were giving me the wary eye and using extra hand sanitizer, I realized I wasn’t doing anyone any favours by sticking around. So off to bed I went. And of course when you get up in the morning and you would give anything to be able to sleep for a couple more hours- when you get a half day to be sick FOR THE PURPOSE of sleeping, you can’t make yourself fall asleep. It took me until almost 9pm before finally drifting off to a fitful slumber. Last night instead of counting on my own internal clock to take me to dreamland, I relied on my good ole friend ‘Nyquil cold and flu’ and Tylenol Cold-Nighttime. I had no trouble falling asleep. The trouble was trying to stay awake to catch the end of Grey’s Anatomy.

This weekend I am picking up my bridesmaid dress. It needs to be altered to fall above the knee and needs to be taken in around the chest (yes, I know, of all the places to need a dress taken in, it should NEVER be there). I don’t really want to try it on. My fear is that I will step into it, hate the way it looks on me and then dread the day of the wedding. So my plan was to alter it based on my measurements and slip into that puppy day of, and never look in the mirror. Let me hold onto my illusions. Meanwhile, the stupid seamstress will probably want me in the dress to pin it. I will just squeeze my eyes shut. This is not my day. It is my sisters. Whether I love or despise the dress (which I won’t know until it is on me), is irrelevant, because NO person in the wedding party can go up to the bride and groom and say “ya, so about this dress? It’s not workin for me…so I am just gonna pull something from my trustee closet”.

Weddings are a LOT of work. Dress & decoration shopping, making the party favours & invitations, the money box, planning the shower/bachelorette, picking the menu, planning transportation & accommodation, making a speech… and that’s just ME! Imagine being a bride? I have decided that any wedding I have will be a backyard BBQ. I just don’t want all the hustle and bustle. And the EXPENSES! It makes me sweat just trying to total up all the costs. Flowers, DJ, food, open bar, attire, venue, gifts, accommodation…it is like a thermometer with ‘Bankruptcy’ being the big ball at the top. God I hope I never have a daughter. And if I do, I hope she is post modern and doesn’t believe in the concept of marriage. I will bleed it into her at an early age. “1 in 3 marriages in today’s society end in divorce, hunny. It is just a money making scheme institutionalized by the government to feed the economy..”

So May 24 is here soon. That means a long weekend saturated with sun, beer and entertainment. You can bet that I will be at the cottage soaking up the rays. Maybe do some fishing , hiking, obviously some spring cleaning, but I will NOT be swimming. Since it is only May, the water will be cold and this body Is NOT bathing suit ready. I think that the surface of the pontoon boat is as close as I’ll be getting to the water. Anyway, enjoy your long weekend and be safe!

Kicked down- Back Up for Now......

I got a new job.

I don't want to risk a description though and 'out' my job. It is sort of like being pregnant. You don't tell anyone until you have been there for at least 3 months. I am nervous. Nothing like being laid off and losing a job to shake your confidence in your abilities. I may have gotten this job too soon. I don't necessarily feel ready to put on a happy face and dive back in. My brain needs a rest and I guess a couple weeks just doesn't cut it. To be honest, I thought my interview skills were a little rusty. I had a couple awkward silences, but apparently they went unnoticed.

I may be able to get my car after all. As for all that self betterment I said I was going to do, nothing like a little bit of borderline depression to squash those ambitions. I have spent most of my time being unemployed inhaling empty calories and lying in bed, catching up on my reading.

So I have been attempting to come up with ideas for my sisters bachelorette/shower. So far I have margarita mix and a penis cake tin. I was going to go all out and go strippers, but I have been informed that women don't always like staring at other naked women. So....transvestite showgirls? Here is my long labour of love- my invitation graphic. I had to cut out each stripper individually...hat and cactus too. Took friggen forever.

My sister and her future husband are in Mexico right now....pre- honeymoon. A trip won from work for outstanding...something or other. So what does that mean for me? Puppysitting....ok, well not me, but Stuart. Right now he is sitting in their house, eating their food, using their vehicles and showers and god knows what else, all under the premise of 'dogsitting'. While I am sitting at home, mentally preparing myself for my first day of work tomorrow. Anyway, since being unemployed I don't have many amusing anecdotes to drop into my blog....aside from my last job deducting my office chair from my vacation pay for wear and tear. Yes, I know....ask me about it, amusing story(thus my facebook name- 'kicked when I am down' for the past two weeks).

So until I have something new to add about my life, I will keep this one short and sweet. Until next time, loyal blog readers...

Ask a Busy Person- But Don't Ask ME!

Happy Easter! What does Easter mean to the average new age family? Mainly gorging on ham, pork and turkey, getting chocolaty and sugary treats, and trying to convince your toddlers that, yes, a bunny can hop from house to house carrying a Sac full of eggs, even without a poseable thumb.

I got to experience a big family over Easter. My own family is so small and somewhat fragmented. Stuarts family is literally enormous. They get together for birthdays, anniversaries, baptisms, weddings- you name it and they will all come together. Easter dinner was made up of 18 grandparents, aunts, uncles, grandchildren and great grandchildren. I won't say it wasn't fun, but when you grow up with a single Aunt and Uncle and a single cousin, the family events are hardly chaotic. Not to mention it is entirely up to Jordana and I to carry on the family name. At nearly 25, I am the youngest existing member of the Matthews family, or the Humphreys line (Mom's) for that matter. It is amazing how much more magical holidays become when you have little kids to lie to. With Santa, the Easter Bunny, the tooth fairy, and leprechauns only whispers in my memory, I can't be blamed if I feel some jealousy towards the young mothers that make up some of my friends. I am not talking 16 & Pregnant here, but early to mid 20's.

So the absolute worst case scenario has come to fruition. Stu and I are both unemployed, with a shitbox for a car, rent looming in the near future, unpaid phone and cable bills and no prospects to speak of. Ok maybe it isn't all that bleak, we have both had interviews recently, but I am not optimistic about the job market at the moment. I just don't want to be added to the pool of well education twenty somethings being forced to work in retail stores and liquor stores and grocery stores. I will be the first to spout my opinion about education inflation and how jobs that didn't used to require a university education, now ask for it, AND THEN SOME.

But I am not willing to go back to school. I am done. Worn out. bled dry of brain power. Maybe not that much. I found university stupid-simple. Overrated. But I simply won't front the cash for another useless, pointless 2 year diploma or certificate. I already have enough debt to speak for. And what did it buy me? Unemployment, with credentials to buy me a sweet secretarial position. The LIQUOR STORE would offer better benefits. I know guys with excellent degrees that are being wasted. Why? BECAUSE EVERYONE HAS ONE! University degrees are a dime a dozen. Why hire someone with a U. Degree when you can hire a person with an MBA or a Doctorate. They are in the same boat. My sister, who works in a big corporation says they are hiring MBA's for $30,000 per year salaried positions. BECAUSE THEY CAN! These guys have my sympathy. Instead of my thirty thousand of debt, they have sixty and seventy thousand dollars hanging over their heads.

What is the solution? Sure, they can make entrance into Universities and Colleges more difficult (leaving the poor kids with mid seventy grades to work in the department stores and Mac Milks). But that wouldn't be all that fair either. University just shouldn't be made the logical path for EVERYONE after High School. There is a real demand for Trade workers in the economy. Learn a trade and you an make some sweet cash. Right now though, education isn't about the smartest and brightest students getting the highest level of education. It is really about how wealthy you are. If you can afford that MBA then you are ahead of the game. Sure we the government spouts equality and equal opportunity, but this is still a world where the Rich get Richer and the poor get poorer and the middle class are still treading water. So Richie Rich gets the education, even though he is a puddle, and ends up making tons of cash. Is he the best for the job? Absolutely not. But since when was the world fair? The best guy for the job almost never gets it.

So as it stands, I will keep putting out my resume for positions I am under qualified for and Stu will keep doing the same. As my dream of a new car fades, I will use this new free time for self betterment! BAH! Ok, I will tell myself I will work out more, paint and maybe send more letters, but I have learned that the less you have to do, the less you accomplish. They say if you want something done, ask a busy person. SO....don't ask me :)

March Sadness, not Madness

March has been a sad month.

March in and of itself is a sad month because it is inherently cold and rainy. But it gives hope of Spring. I am holding on to that hope with every fibre of my being. I can't allow myself to be sad or it will swallow me. The dark dreary mornings and the sound of rain on my skylights at work will start to wear me down.

One of my dear friends lost her baby this month. The details are hers, but I feel an overwhelming sense of loss along with her. I can't help but imagine myself in her shoes and I know that it is a scar that will never heal and I just hope that my friendship (and some flowers and ice cream) will be enough solace.

Finances are thin. I am stressed about that. I live in overdraft at the end of every month and savings are scarce. I can't justify buying myself clothes or makeup or anything else that makes me happy and that is probably adding to the overall effect of this month.

I did indulge in one small thing though. I have always been a collector of small pretty things and I bought some miniature velvety horses from Bella Sara. A stupid expense, but it gives me something to be excited about. I check the mail every day when I get home from work to see if they have come. People collect all sorts of odds and ends. That is how I rationalize being 25 years old and buying toys off the intertron.

My Grandmother might be sick. She is getting up there in age...closer to 90 than to 80. She is really looking forward to my sisters wedding this summer but we have to face the reality that she may not live to see it. She is showing signs of kidney failure and pneumonia. She is my heart.

It is hard to even think of her passing, but I guess that is part of growing up. You never think, as a child, that when you grow up and get married that your grandparents won't be there. But I am lucky to even have grandparents NOW.

I was recently fitted for my bridesmaid dress. You can't imagine my distress over knowing I have a deadline to meet for weight loss and appearance...especially on a budget. Who can afford nails, toes, hair, tan and gym fees.....I like being maid of honour but you certainly need deep pockets. The dress itself will be $260.00 WITHOUT alterations- which will absolutely be necessary because even as I am right now- I am between sizes.

My partner is still unemployed and that is wearing on my living situation. It's the 5th month. It is hard to be supportive and uplifting when you really feel resentful. I want to push, but not too hard. I want to help, but I don't want to coddle. I want to plan for the future, but I can't see past the present. Words of encouragement get thinner the more you use them.

Cheers to St. Patty's day.

I shared a pitcher of green beer and had a nice walk in the 18 degree weather. It was a nice pause in an otherwise hectic schedule.

Ok loyal blog readers. I am downer and I know it. Let's hope that March showers bring May flowers early.