Some Random Junk

1. Last week was a complete bust in the work department. I couldn't concentrate, not for longer than 15 second intervals anyways. This might be a better way to put it in perspective for you...a magazine worth of editorial which should have taken me, at the most, 5 hours to copy edit, took me three days. One hour of which was spent tonight sitting on my couch forcing myself to read.

2. I bought myself a new camera. It is so kick-ass that I was literally squealing and jumping up and down when I started playing with it. Many thanks to the husband for picking it up and bringing it to me at work (no wonder I couldn't concentrate on Friday), and to Zig, for alerting me it was on sale for such a great price, and for being so awesome about answering my questions thus far. And yeah...it was on sale...but it still cost me more than a month's rent...

3. You may have read that the husband is having some back issues again. I could cry just thinking about it because it was so hard to see him in so much pain last time, and I thought it would be much longer until I had to witness it again. The good thing is that he got squeezed in for an MRI this Wednesday, so we'll have a better idea of what's going on after those results.

4. I went on a date with Princess today. We've gotten into the habit of taking Sundays to go for lunch and then spending the afternoon shopping - I love it. However, while we were shopping today, I wandered away from where she was lost in a rack of little jackets. No sooner had I begun flicking through some sweaters when I heard a low "un-ladylike" sound. I looked up to see a woman a few feet away with her back to me, flicking through some other sweaters, and continuing to let out one of the most hideous farts I have ever heard. It was 20 seconds long, I kid you not.
I stood there and stared with my mouth hanging open while she continued looking at clothes as if nothing was amiss. I quickly bit my lip, turned around and sprinted to Princess, and stopped in front of her red-faced and trying to control myself. She asked me what was wrong and all of a sudden I couldn't hold it in, I started howling with laughter, while telling her the story.
People were looking at we while I stood there appalled but unable to control my laughter until finally I said, half to Princess, half to them, "well at least I didn't shit my pants in public today."

5. I have a doctor's appointment tomorrow. It involves some not so fun "tools" and some not so fun "areas". Sigh.

6. Yesterday I had a craving for chocolate cake and milk, neither of which we had in the house. So to the grocery store I went, also picking up sour cream and raspberries. When I got home I decided that I would actually rather have raspberries than chocolate cake, so I opened the container to have a few.

I'm calling them 'Roid berries. They were freaking huge!

The Momma

Since I've posted about nearly everyone else that I love, I figured it might be time to post about one of the reasons I'm alive - my mom.

I have attempted to write this post many times before, but struggle with it continuously because my mom and I have a very "passionate" relationship.

For much of my life, my mom and I have existed in a perpetual state of stubbornness and haughtiness towards each other. Now, don't get me wrong, we love each other very much and are happy a lot too (especially since I moved out at 18), but we argue...a lot. And neither of us back down...ever. It can be quite frustrating - especially for the men in our lives.

My mom is an Aries - the bull - for those of you that don't know your astrology. I, obviously, am a Gemini - the twins - or split personality.
My mom brings out the asshole twin in me, and I bring out the bull in her. The thing with our relationship is, when it's good - it's very good. And when it's bad - it's fireworks kind of bad.

When we are getting along we laugh and carry on, once in a I can get her to goof off, and she occasionally still chases me up the stairs pinching my butt while I scream and laugh. Those times are great, when we're both relaxed and happy and can actually enjoy each other.
But when one, or both (which is a very scary situation) of us is feeling bitchy, we are vicious. I think part of the reason is that my dad and brother don't call my mom on anything. When she is cranky, or miserable, or wrong about something, they just let her be and let her pretend that she was right, even though she was wrong. I don't. I will confront her if I feel she is out of line, usually it starts off calm, with me trying to explain what I think, but quickly escalates into yelling, on both our parts. This always pisses her off, and usually ends up with her stomping out of the room and pouting for a couple days. Yes, days.

She is the pout queen - for those of you that think I'm good at pouting, I learned it from her, and she's better at it. The only thing is, my pouts are usually a cute attempt, or an "I really want my way" attempt - but when she does it it's scary. It's a grudging kind of pout.

Lately things have been great - when we go home or they come into the city she's usually excited to see me. We've been fighting a lot less this year. Hmm, now that I think about it, we've been fighting a lot less since my baby mess at the end of last year. Maybe that scary situation has forced us to appreciate each other more.

Regardless, as dramatic and loud as we get, she loves me and I love her. Moms and daughters are supposed to be this way, right?

Three Things

As I was driving to work this morning I had my radio tuned to one of the local stations. The hosts were having kids call in to say what they would do differently if they could rule the world. Most kids were saying they would cancel bedtime, and eat candy for supper and that kind of stuff...but then this little boy called in...

Radio Guy: Hey man, what would you do differently if you were in charge?
Little Boy: I'd lower gas prices.
Radio Guy: (after a pause and a stifled laugh) I know hey? Aren't gas prices ridiculous these days?
Little Boy: Yeah, it's a lot of money.
Radio Guy: So what is it costing you to fill up these days?
Little Boy: I don't know...about 10 dollars?
Radio Guy: (after another stifled laugh) Yeah, that sounds about right. Do you know how much I think gas should cost?
Little Boy: Uh......
Radio Guy: Here's a clue, it rhymes with "Bee"
Little Boy: Uh......
Radio Guy: And it starts with an "F"
Little Boy: (after 20 seconds of silence) Um, popsicle?
Radio Guy: (without skipping a beat) Yes, exactly! Gas should cost a popsicle!

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

Yesterday when I was sitting at my desk getting ready to start packing up for home, my cell phone rang. I didn't recognize the number so I had no idea who was calling. It was my dad - convo went as follows:

Dad: Hi my girl, how are ya?
Ali: Daddy! Hi! I'm good, how are you? And where are you?
Dad: I just woke up, got called for the train home so I'm heading to work in a few minutes.
Ali: Awww, so no time for supper then?
Dad: Nope, sorry babe, I thought I would have time but I'm going to work earlier than I thought.
Ali: Oh...
Dad: Actually, I was just calling to tell you that I love you.
Ali: (excitedly, and tickled pink) Really? Awwww.
Dad: Yep. I love you lots.
Ali: Awwww (giggle) awwww, I love you too Dad.
Dad: Okay, I've gotta run babe, I'll talk to you soon.
Ali: Kay Dad, have a good trip home, I love you.
Dad: Bye babe.

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

Yesterday while Krista and Zig and I were in the underground at lunch, I decided I'd like to walk around Hallmark to kill some time. So in we went, walking around looking at everything, reading cards and passing them to each other when they were really funny. Then we came to this display of magnets...we were all standing there reading them and laughing when all of a sudden Zig rips one off the display and says "This is perfect for Ali - we should get it for her."

Then Krista started to laugh, but they wouldn't let me read it. So I pouted a little.
Later on in the afternoon I walked back to my office to find this on the white board on my office door.

The magnet is stuck to the board as my "sign".

I think these people may know me a little too well...

When Words Can't Express...

Okey dokey blogger buddies - I'm putting a call out to all of you for suggestions. But not just for your everyday, run of the mill operation, but for something that each of us could use any day...

The discussion has been had through comment boxes, some emails, even some face to face conversations about fantastic posts that people make, and then potential commenters being unable to come up with something they feel does the author justice.

As in, sometimes you just don't know what to say.

If you agree with something they've posted about, you can't just write "I agree", because that sounds lame.
If something they write makes your heart break for them, and you want to say that you're there for them if they should need you, you can't just write "I'm here", because that doesn't express your concern or your feelings very well.

And so most of us write nothing in those situations - not because we don't want to, but simply because we don't have the words.

So, my request is this, suggest what you think would be an acceptable word or phrase that we can all write in someone's comments should the proper words fail us. Something that we will all know means "Wow, I get it" or "I'm here for you" or damn "That's kind of gross, but I hear what you're saying."

So that when I leave a comment on Logziella's post that just says "Boom boom wacka wacka", Terri isn't calling Zig going, "Uh, why does Ali seem like she just escaped from the loonie bin?"

You know?

The Latch-Hook Kid

Before you can appreciate the post below, you must understand my relationship with my cousin Krista, whom I'm written about before. John thinks she looks like Hannah Montana - most people tell us that we look like each other. But...I don't look like Hannah Montana -so, um, I'm not sure what that says about who we look like...

Anyways, Krista is four years younger than me and one of my most favourite people in the world. When my aunt was pregnant with her, she was diagnosed with Lupus - making for a very difficult pregnancy (they actually wanted my aunt to have an abortion) and years and years of sickness after. Essentially Krista was with my family a lot - she became almost like a little sister to me. Of course, she was also an incredible pain in my ass - always getting me and her older brother Kevin into trouble when we wouldn't let her play with us.

But as we've both gotten older we've taken a real liking to each other. Of course, we're cousins so obviously we love each other and get together at family events, but she's a blast to hang out with and has turned out to be...a lot like me. That may seem scary to some, but what it really means is that we are very loud, very obnoxious, and very happy when we're together.

Now one other thing you must know is that we constantly call each other "my favourite cousin" and sign emails and stuff "Love, your most beautiful, bootylicious, sexy, intelligent, God's gift cousin, Alison" and junk like that.
Several years ago when we were both "home" in Ontario, our moms were going to a Tea and Bake Sale at my old elementary school. Krista and I met them there to check it out, but she had to leave early to get somewhere. She gave her younger cousin Katelyn some money, told her to buy some Penny Table tickets, and put tickets on anything she thought Krista would like. Please know that Katelyn was about 7 at the time - so what was nice to her wasn't necessarily nice to anyone else over the age of 10...he,he.

Long story short (well, shorter) Katelyn put tickets in on this hideous latch-hook rug, still in the packaging, and straight out of the 70's. When we presented it to her that night she was quite annoyed to have won it, I of course, thought it was hilarious and laughed all night about it.

Fast forward to that Christmas when I opened at gift from her and found the damned rug, still in the box, while she laughed and laughed at how smart she was.
Since then we've passed it back and forth several times for numerous occasions. She gave it back to me last Christmas and it's been sitting in my room at my parent's house since then.
This past weekend when I was home I dragged out the box and asked my mom to teach me how to do it. And so, I've begun working on the stupid rug, and am going to bust my ass to have it done for her before Christmas, so that I can have the last laugh.

The only thing is...I've done about 7 rows of the latch-hooking in about 3.5 hours - my guess at the moment is that there are about 120 rows or so - that means for a lot of work for a rug that started out as a joke that I'm going to just give away.

But oh well, she's worth it - and the look on her face when she sees that I've actually made the stupid thing will bring me such happiness (and lots and lots of laughter) that it's totally worth it. Plus...nerdy as this may make me sound...I kind of like doing it. It's oddly therapeutic.

Oh, just as an aside here - when she graduated from college earlier this year, she had an 11x13 picture of herself made into a puzzle for me. That's the kind of crap we do to each other.

*sigh*

It's almost 2 am...yet here I sit at my computer...awake.

The husband is snoring like a chainsaw on idle, and although I keep hissing "quit snoring", it doesn't seem to be doing much to help my cause. I've pushed him, thinking that he's lying on his back, because usually he lets up a bit if he's on his side - but he's actually already on his side. That means I'm really in trouble.

So why not just roll over, bite my lip, and try to tune him out you ask? Well first off, I'm not so hot in the patience department, and second, that's what I've been trying to do for about 2 hours.

Then why not go crawl into the spare bedroom bed or kick him out like I would usually do? Well tonight his friend Mike is staying with us; alas, there is no "spare bed".

In the middle of my huffy exit from the bedroom I whispered "enjoy the next hour or so Chris, because after that it's my turn to sleep" as a sort of threat, which was answered with a loud snort. Rotter.

To add to the annoyance of my chainsaw husband, there is a pathetic attempt at a storm going on outside. The lightning is flashing about every 3 seconds, and there is the occasional low rumble of thunder and weak smattering of rain on the window, but really it's a pretty lame storm.

I actually sleep fantastic in a really wild storm, so I'm hoping it gets over itself pretty soon and really lets it rip. At least maybe the bang of thunder and steady pulse of hard rain on the window might drown out the husband.

Wish me luck...or maybe, wish my co-workers luck for the work day if I don't get any more sleep tonight.


P.S. The term "rotter" is used with thanks to my dear friend John. However, in this instance it is not used like a "term of endearment" but rather muttered under my breath in a low, menacing tone.

A Recap of My Week

1. I've been having fun with pouting this week. I realized that it had been awhile after John pointed it out to me earlier in the week. Reggie, I did try casting my eyes to the left when I was doing it, and I can do it - but the effect isn't nearly as powerful. Too bad about you not being able to pee while you swim though.

2. In our office building there is a Breast Cancer Awareness office - today they are having a bake sale. I had a tummy ache about 15 minutes after getting in this morning from eating too many rice krispie squares and squares of sinfully delectable caramel goodness, but at least it's for a good cause.

3. The husband and I are heading to Ontario tonight, which has me almost giddy. It's been about 5 weeks since I've been home so I am in desperate need of some genuine relaxation. I already called my dad last night to ask him when he's going to be home - besides the relaxation I really need some Daddy-O/Ali time.

4. Work has been so busy this week that I keep randomly stop working mid-activity because I can't remember what I'm doing. I have a list with about 25 To Do's on it at the moment. Yesterday I got one thing done - but it was a BIG thing. It actually took me 4 whole entire days to do. There were a lot of expletives used this week - I may have hit an all-time high of saying the "F" word.

5. I have been one miserable piece of work for the past 3 weeks or so. But, it seems that I'm only that way to the husband. I know that that isn't right, and I feel badly for it every day, and I apologize for it every day, but for some reason lately everything he does drives me mental. But in my defense he seems to feel the same way about me lately. Hopefully this will blow over soon.

6. It has been so cold here this week, I think poor Reggie would freeze his...fingers off in our neck of the woods lately, and it's not even really cold yet! But Krista and I - who are always freezing cold and shivering - are still wearing our flip flops every day. Neither one of us it quite ready to pack them in yet, which seems kind of silly, when even the boys who are always complaining how hot they are, are wearing sweaters and shoes and leather jackets now.

7. I have to pee pretty desperately right now, so I'm going to try to move this along.

8. With this time of year comes the city window cleanings. It is not unusual to see men hanging at random all over the sides of buildings. I feel sick to my stomach every time I see one of them throw themselves over the side of a building attached to a teeny piece of rope, then run across the building to reach all the windows.

9. I am in need of some new music. I was having such a good flow with music choices and new bands over the past few months, but now I'm sick of everything and needing something fresh. I either need a new band to listen to, or the Fratelli's really need to put out a new cd already.

10. Okay, I really have to pee now - have a wonderful weekend everyone!

For James & Aaron...

...who felt yesterday's pout wasn't quite up to the proper calibre.

Is there enough lip protrusion now?

For John...

...who called me a "rotter" today, and then told me that I haven't been pouting enough lately.

So, um...What Constitutes a Stalker?

This past weekend when I was out on my date with Princess, we started talking about our blogs. More specifically though, we were talking about all the people that read our blogs, and who we communicate with outside of the comments box, and how we both feel about that.

Here's the thing that I've discovered...at least about myself.

There are some of you that I would love, love, love to know outside the blogosphere. I would love to be able to call you up and say "Hey, what's shakin'? Do you want to go grab a coffee?" However, since in most cases that's not really feasible, I have to make do with a comment on your blog or a quick email if I have your address.

There are some of you that I communicate with on a daily basis, we even hang out with spouses and stuff - those of you that I know personally. There are others of you that I email with once a week or so, some that I do phone calls with, a few more of you are Facebook buddies, and I know a couple of people's actual residential addresses or where they work.

Now here is where my title comes into question - just what constitutes a stalker? Or even, what is going too far in the way of too much information?

Because there are days when I read one of your blogs and want nothing more than to call you up and tell you I'm thinking about you (in a completely non-pervert way) and that you are not alone. Sometimes an email is enough, though I don't have everyone's email address, but when it comes down to it, I'd rather send you a card. I'm somewhat of a card-o-holic...it seems I have an addiction to sending people $6 pieces of paper.

There are other times when I see something in a store (I'm talking little, silly things here) that I think would make your day if you were to get it in the mail all the way from Winnipeg. Some things remind me of a certain person, or maybe someone else has been looking everywhere for something and I happen to know a place that has 5 of them for sale - that sort of thing.

But for the most part, I don't want to ask anyone for their address because I'm worried that I will turn out to be the person that people think is a stalker. The thing is - I am soooo not stalker material.

First of all, my life is busy enough - who has time to follow someone else's life so closely?

Second of all, do you know how much work it would be to be a good stalker? Always having to know someone's every move - where they're going, who they're meeting, when they'll be back...

Third of all, I lose interest in things too quickly to ever make a career out of being a stalker - I'm already losing interest in this post!

Fourth of all, I'm just too lazy. Seriously. The last thing I want to do is sit in your bushes and watch every little thing you do. I'd probably just lay down for a nap in your peonies.

Here's how I look at it - you have to use your best judgement. If someone is sending you nudie pictures and you've started receiving phone calls of heavy breathing, maybe don't give out your home address and what time you're going to be alone that night.
For the most part, I think the majority of us are pretty smart, and are on top of things enough to realize when someone is getting a bit psycho.

So, um...if I happen to ask any of you for your phone number or home address - I can assure you that I am not coming to find you - we'll be lucky if I even take the time to write it in my address book.

Ca-ray-zeeeee

Oh man, it's been a busy week or so. Lots of stuff going on - big bosses in the office, social engagements, apartment modifications, girly meltdowns, long distance phone calls - all the usual events in my life, he he.
So, since I skipped blogging the last 4 or 5 days, I thought I would do one post to kind of sum up my recent activities...

Last Friday (as in the 7th, not the 14th) the husband and I went over to Zig and Alyssa's to watch movies and eat junk food. We ended up bringing chips and beverages...and eight chocolate bars. Yes, eight.
I was in the mood for chocolate, and after calling, found out Alyssa was too, so who can really narrow down what they want with something so general as chocolate? Turns out I was in the mood for chips and Pepsi too - so apparently any junk food would have done the trick.
Before we watched the movie though, the boys had to play Guitar Hero. Sigh, boys will be boys.

On Tuesday I was sitting at my desk, on a business call with one of my new clients and working very diligently like the devoted employee I am, when my phone began ringing in the middle of my call. Of course I ignored it, being that I was talking to the CEO of one of my new magazines, and a few moments later the light came on to tell me I had a voice mail.
After hanging up with my client I listened to my voice mail to hear that wonderful accent I've grown to love so much - it was Reggie! I don't know how you do it Reggie, but you always seem to know when I am in a meeting or in the middle of an important call.
I hollered at Zig for the address to the St. Croix web cam and told him to come to my office because Reggie had just called. He came down there and we shut the door, since we always put the phone on speaker so we can all talk.
Sure enough, Reggie was still standing in front of the harbour cam, and Zig and I giggled the whole time we talked about the weather, the snorkeling, Gigi, how hard we were working, how cheap the rum was there...
It was great, I love talking to Reggie - and Gigi too - too bad you weren't there for that phone call!

Wednesday I was in a meeting in my office when the phone rang again. I looked down to see the number and realized that it was the husband's cell phone. I quickly picked up the phone and said "Hi, I'm just in a meeting, can I call you back?" He said "Um, sure" so I hung up and continued on with my meeting.
About 3 minutes later, he's standing at my office door with flowers and a card for me! Awww, sometimes boys just get it. Thanks husband, you made my day.

Yesterday. Ugh. Yesterday was spent doing excruciating work. The husband conveniently had to "work" all weekend, so I spent the day dragging furniture into the middle of the bedroom, taking things off the walls, and taping out the carpet.
As you can see, our bedroom was a horrid colour of baby poo, which has actually been causing me quite a bit of grief lately.
For one, I liked this colour when we originally painted - sorry, when I originally painted - but it quickly began to grate on my nerves and I've been finding it hard to relax in there.
For two, before we move out we - sorry again, I - will have to paint it back to the original white anyways, or risk losing our $750 damage deposit.
For three, it's still warm enough now that I can have the windows open while I paint. Plus, I seriously couldn't stand the colour anymore, so it had to go.

It took 2 coats of primer (this is just the first one) to cover most of the hideous baby poo. I should have done one more, but by the end of the first 2 I was ready to snap - so that was all it got.

The finished product is Kitten White - awwww. Now to just put everything back in its place.
Actually, that will be another post because I'm re-arranging the whole thing too - I'm such a glutton for punishment.

And, a happy note to my hard-working weekend. Today I had a date with the Princess! It's been ages since we've seen each other, as the last 2 times we both had to cancel.
We went to my most favourite restaurant for lunch, and both decided to splurge and have dessert.
She ordered an ice cream sundae...and was presented with this tray of ice cream, whipped cream, a bowl of chopped nuts, her own personal sprinkle jar, a bowl of caramel, and a bowl of chocolate sauce. Good lord.
I had a chocolate molten lava cake which wasn't nearly as impressive, but delicious nonetheless.
Then we spent the afternoon with Krista and our friend Ashley at a baby shower for some great friends of ours.

So, it's been busy around here, but great too.

Requests to the Masses About Proper Use of Public Washrooms

Or, to be more specific, about the public washroom that I have to use each day.
The women's bathroom on my floor in our building is used by about 5 other offices. My guess is approximately 18-20 women use this bathroom each day, about 3 times a day. That's a lot of bathroom excursions. Surprisingly enough, most of the time when I go in there I'm the only one - except for the occasional time when Krista and I will go together - which is another story entirely.
Anyways, I've noticed some things about this washroom - and most probably apply to other public washrooms as well - and I have a few requests, so here goes.

1.If you must be a beauty queen and re-apply all of your makeup after lunch, please be kind enough to move over so that those of us needing to wash our hands have access to the sinks.

2. If it's "that time of the month" please put the entire contents of your discarded sanitary instruments into the provided trash box - do not leave the lid open or anything hanging out.

3. If you come in and happen to know who is using another stall do NOT begin talking to them mid-stream. If you enter the bathroom in conversation with someone, the conversation may continue, but don't randomly start gabbing to someone using the facilities.

4. If you have to do anything other than pee, please make sure to flush. Twice if necessary.

5. If you are not "groomed" down there, do us all a favour and make sure you don't leave any curly visitors on the seat. It's pretty gross to have to blow or wipe off someone else's pubes.

6. Put your used paper towels in the garbage. None of us are here to clean up after you.

7. Wash your hands. I swear, the next person I see over the age of 2 that doesn't wash their hands before leaving the bathroom is going to get a lecture on what fecal matter and urine can do once you rub your eye or pop a candy in your mouth.

Such a Freaking Girl!

Today was not a fantastic day on the emotional front. I won't go into details, let's just say that I ended up with tears slipping down my cheeks at work today. Twice.

I cried that same quiet, slow rolling tear cry the entire drive home, then when I walked in the door I really let loose with the heart breaking, gut wrenching sobs that feel so good to let out.

Among feeling sick and and having a particularly bad case of mood swings lately, I have been seriously lacking in some good girl time. That, and I miss home. As in - Ontario.

I want to be at my mom and dad's in my pj's with Monica and a handful of other girls, watching shitty movies and eating shitty food, and laughing myself silly. Either that or I want to be sitting in the sun room with the daddy-o, sipping fresh coffee and chatting about whatever strikes our fancy.

As a result of the tear-fest my eyes are puffy and I'm nursing a headache, I'm snarly at the husband, and I want to go to bed. The sooner I go to bed, the sooner I can wake up to a new day and all the wonderful people I love so much.

McDisgusting for Ali

So, as most of you know, I'm not much of a big eater.
I also generally have a problem with fast food. Not that I don't like it or anything, because for the most part I do. It's just that usually, several bites into a burger or sandwich of some sort I start thinking about the meat, and how it's sort of grey, instead of brown, and how the cheese is all congealed, and the lettuce is slimy, and, well you get the picture, I gross myself out.
Most of the time at lunch if our group heads out, I try to eat something fairly healthy (not always, but most of the time), as I'm a sucker for veggie plates and fruit plates from the underground deli.
However, lately I've been feeling pretty lousy, and most things have been making my stomach churn just at the thought of them, let alone eating them.
It must be known that I loathe deciding where to eat. I'm quite picky, and I hate suggesting places because I'm the sort of person to always eat the same thing, from the same restaurants. I usually say to my co-workers "If you'll just decide where you want to go, I'll go anywhere," which they all know isn't true, though I try to put on a brave face.
It's a long running joke that Zig will suggest Mac.Donalds because he knows how the food there grosses me out. Usually I'll mock-gag and say "Fine, let's go then," though we never end up eating there.
Today the four of us were walking around in the underground trying to decide what to do, and I told them I actually felt like Mac.Donalds. I think there was a little disbelief, but I told them I was serious, and actually got in line there. As I was standing in line I started thinking...and was on the verge of being grossed out...but kept trying to distract myself. I was hungry and for some reason this was what I wanted today.
So I got a Big Mac and a fresca, walked back over to our office, and sat myself down at my desk for what I figured would amount to about 3 or 4 bites before I was feeling sick enough to just pitch my burger into the garbage.
After unpacking it, I opened the box to see....a hole in my burger bun. As if I can't gross myself out enough, now it seems that rats have actually nibbled away at my bun. Ewwww. I decided, eh, who cares - if I'm going to eat this junk anyways, may as well throw in some rat saliva for good measure. So, just as I'm about to take my first bite, my phone rang - it was my boss, needing me to come see her. So I jumped up and went to her office to see what the problem was. I came back a few minutes later, took my first bite, and my phone rang. My boss again, needing to know about a media kit I was working on. So I started using one hand to find what I needed on the computer and apparently shoveled in the burger with my other.
About two minutes later I took a drink, called my boss to let her know what I found out - looked down at my burger...and *gasp* it was gone! The only thing left was some bun and a couple pieces of lettuce.
Apparently all I need to be able to eat this stuff is the power of distraction - though, don't distract me too much, I rather like my veggies and fruit.

Dear Bedroom,

You may have heard from that loud mouth Laundry Room, that I spent some time in Spare Bedroom today. Rest assured that I was only visiting to change the sheets as we were getting company, who needed fresh linens to rest their weary bones in. You may have also heard that it was several hours before I emerged from Spare Bedroom. I must confess that this is true. Once I finished making the bed I laid down on top of it...and woke up several hours later after a glorious nap.
Please try to understand, it's not that I enjoy Spare Bedroom more than you - it's simply that Spare Bedroom has something you do not, and try I as I might to give it to you, it just never lasts...you see, Spare Bedroom is clean.
I know I know, you could be clean too if I would give you a fighting chance. It's just, well, there are clothes all over you, your bedside tables are littered with water bottles, your dressers are covered in papers, and, my side of the bedroom is quite cramped, what with mine and the husband's bikes over there.
You have overflowing laundry baskets, a busting at the seams closet, and your blind broke last week. I would have loved to nap in you today, however, your chaos does nothing to relax me, but rather makes me feel guilty. Guilty for lying down rather than trying to organize you in some way.
To tell you quite honestly Bedroom, even Living Room is becoming more appealing to me when I am in need of a nap. I must confess to having napped on both Couch and Recliner in recent weeks.
But, rest assured that there is nothing quite like curling up in your bed on a cool day, or lying in a ray of sunshine, soaking up warmth and marveling how comfy I am within your walls.
We must solve this problem Bedroom, or I fear that when I have no company I will seek comfort in Spare Bedroom on a nightly basis; which is not something I would like to do.
I think over the next week I will tend to you day by day, slowly packing up our summer clothes, moving our bikes out to get ready to put them in their winter home, and cleaning up the mountain of plastic water bottles that are nearly overtaking you. Then, next weekend, I think I will paint you. Perhaps a new look will help us re-kindle our affection for each other.
Be brave this next week Bedroom, and pay no attention to Laundry Room when she starts whispering gossip about me and Spare Bedroom, for next weekend it will be all about me and you.

Soon to be all yours again, Ali

Hurry Up and Wait

This seems to be the story of my life.

As an editor I have intense deadlines, every day is packed with "critical" jobs and "number one priority" projects. This set of proofs needed to go to the printer yesterday, and that company is leaving for China tomorrow and needs their magazine today.

It's a never ending cycle of pressure - but I thrive on it.
Here's the thing - the designers and myself bust our humps to get stuff done. Stuff that a company will turn in a month late, we will turn around and have the first proof of their magazine to them in 5 days - it's insane.
It never fails though, that a company will bitch and complain when their magazine is two days late at proof stage, conveniently forgetting that they turned in everything to us 3 weeks late, and that there is still outstanding editorial.
And, after all that running around on our part, they will sit on their proofs for a week or two because Stan is away on holidays, or Bob is too busy picking his ass to glance over them at the moment.
Hurry up and wait.

In my current health situation it's more of the same. Put me on fertility drugs to try and get me pregnant, decide they aren't working and tell me I need surgery instead. Fine, I'll do the surgery because in the end it may help me have a baby - it's still a scary thing. So I've agreed to do it, but I have to wait until mid-November to have it done. This doesn't do much for my thought process. It just gives me time to sit and think about all the things that could go wrong, and considering my past surgical history, that's not such a stretch.
Hurry up and wait.

It seems that everything in my life is confined to the title of this blog - well guess what?

I am an impatient person!
Waiting is not one of my strong points!
I will not win any awards for my ability to relax and let things happen!

Sheesh! Give a girl a break.

*In my defense, I have become much more patient in the last year - though it was no fault of my own and I fought it tooth and nail ;)

B-O-R-E-D...and sleepy

So, I'm bored. Like really, really bored. The husband isn't at home today or tomorrow so I've been left to entertain myself. I was supposed to have a guitar lesson after work - however, I woke up today thinking it was Monday, so I left Ramona at home. Zig told me I could come over later tonight but I confessed that lately when I get home, it's all I can do to stay awake for a couple hours before going to bed at around 9 o'clock. I just can't seem to shake this virus I've got tailing me.
Since I got home from work I've called the Bahama Mama, had a nap, watched a movie, and sent a couple text messages. Wow. Maybe I should slow down - at this rate I'm liable to hurt myself.
So while I've been sitting here bored I've thought about a few things - nothing particularly interesting - just some thoughts...

1. I really like orange juice. I've always known this, but I often forget how much I do. But it has to be a certain kind - Tropicana Original no pulp - which costs about $6 per 2 litre jug. I've had 3 glasses since I got home today.

2. I think I want to paint our bedroom. About 2 years ago we painted it this dark, brownish/orangey colour - sounds gross but it really went with our furniture and stuff at the time. Now I hate it. And really, if we're going to be buying a house we'll have to paint it back to white eventually anyways, so why not now? Surprisingly the husband doesn't seem particularly thrilled about painting...

3. I have to go for more surgery in November. That's part of what my crappy doctor visit was about last week. When our specialist mentioned it to me the decision was made before he finished talking; I knew I would get it done. Of course, I asked the husband what he thought and he told me that whatever I decided was fine with him - but he knew what I would decide anyways. So November 15th I go in, unless they call me with a cancellation before that. Let's hope this one goes smoother than the last one!

4. I need to have a decent supper. We went and had our big grocery experience last week, and since then I have been surviving on cottage cheese mixed with sunflower seeds, orange juice, water and granola bars. Kind of defeats the purpose of stocking your kitchen with groceries, doesn't it? My body is crying for meat and potatoes and veggies - is anyone interested in cooking?

5. Fall is coming. I'm not very prepared for it this year, despite loving the season so much. It seemed like cute skirts and flip flops were only wearable for a month or so this year - and I'm not quite ready for sweaters and jeans yet.

6. My kitchen floor needs to be swept. I can feel grains of rice and little crumbs under my bare feet when I walk - ewwww. Guess I getter get on that.

7. I bought a new plant this weekend. It is a teeny tiny little 2" tropical that the husband has named Dixie. Originally he named her that because she was small enough to fit in a Dixie cup. But then I started calling her Dixie Normous, and now she is sort of a porn star tropical plant.

8. Um, and my last thought is that I'm tired. Very tired. So even though it's only 8:30, I think I'll go take a shower and curl up in bed - you can never have too much rest when you're sick - at least that's how I'll justify it to myself.