Idiosyncrasies of a Gemini Mind

Man UP, Girl

2010-06-16T19:57:00.004-05:00

Haven't posted in ages, and I come back with a bitchy post. Ah, true Ali fashion :)

You know what I don't like?

Girls that can't do anything for themselves.

The ones that can't open a jar, hang a picture on the wall, check their oil, pump their own gas... It's not like I think you should be able to rebuild an engine, bench press 200, or knock a guy out with one punch, but geez!

I'm no idiot - I know that sometimes the damsel in distress card can be played to our advantage. Sometimes it's nice to feel taken care of, or to make a man feel like they're coming to the rescue. I could meet my husband at the door in a dress and pearls and have dinner ready on the table too, but it would primarily be for roll-playing, and it would most likely end in sex.

But I can't stand when women play their girl card all the time.

You're tough! You're smart! And unless you are a complete idiot, you should be able to figure most things out. Don't be so damn lazy. Don't resort to the 1950s version of a woman. Wikipedia or Google that shit if you don't know how to do it!

I think my husband appreciates the fact that I can do things for myself. That I'm not a pushover. And I thank god that my dad pushed me how to learn to do things that maybe a typical "girl" wouldn't know how to do.

I love the fact that I can depend on myself for things. Strong women are amazing.

What Constitutes a Shitty Friend?

2010-05-10T20:50:00.002-05:00

In a word, I think, it's me.

I am god-awful at keeping up my friendships these days. And keeping up my blogging. And my facebooking. And my laundry...

Oh yeah, that friend thing.

I'm a shitty one.

It's not that I don't want to keep up with my friends, because I do. I miss them. Desperately. And sometimes I sit around and am sad because I really miss a particular person. But do I call them or email them right then and there? No, because I'm an idiot. Or because I think too much time has passed and it will be awkward. Or because I go through a bitchy moment of "Well they haven't called me..."

Most of the time my excuse is that I'm tired. All the time. I've even been to the doctor to try to find out what's wrong. But then, I was too tired to go get the blood work done. And now I'm sick. So the blood work will be off anyways, because of my whacked out white blood cell count. Stupid.

Oh right, I was talking about being a shitty friend.

So I am one. I feel awful all the time, I miss people all the time, but still I do nothing to change it. I don't know why that is.

I really hope I smarten up though, or soon no one will want me.

Heavy

2010-04-06T10:18:00.003-05:00

Much like my split personality star sign of a Gemini, I often feel like two different people. Sure, sometimes it's in my mood, changing from happy to sad, or from content to forlorn in a split second - I'm a pro at that - but sometimes it's like I literally am more than one person.

It's sort of about that country girl/city girl mentality I suppose.

When I'm in the city, I long for the country. I miss the silence that surrounds me there, I miss being totally at ease, knowing that I don't have to be in a hurry to do anything. I miss the comfort of knowing that my parents are close by, that my best friend's parents are across the street, that the majority of my family are near should I need them. I miss that simplicity. I truly feel like myself there. I can think, relax and just be.

But then there is that other part of me, the part that longs for the hustle and bustle of the city. That clings to the idea that if I just keep working my ass off, I can actually be somebody, maybe actually make a difference some way or somehow. I always told myself that I was destined for enormous, unbelievable things. Maybe not famous and in the public eye, but well known somehow, and eventually with money, so that I could use what I had to make a difference in other people's lives. My problem is that I don't know how to DO that.

And so I go back and forth.

Loving the simplicity of being what I am - a wife, a mother, a daughter, a friend. Working hard at a job that I like, writing when I can, and being a country girl at heart.

But then craving something more. Wanting to push myself, force myself not to be afraid, to go after what I really want - to just DO it already.

Then, just as I decide one way or the other, to be happy with what I have, or to push myself for more, my other self will rear its head. Make me doubt what an hour before I was so sure of. And so I'm stuck in this limbo. Both knowing exactly who I am, yet having no idea who the real me is.

I feel like a crazy person half the time, and I wonder if anyone else ever feels this way.

Lawdy, lawdy, lawdy - Where DOES time go?

2010-03-08T15:15:00.004-06:00

Remember when I used to post every single day, and sometimes I would even post twice a day? Way back when I was 26 or 27?
Ugh.
I'm so not capable of that anymore.

So what's been going on in my life? Both nothing at all, and more stuff than I could possibly tell you.

1. I've got freelance coming out the wazoo. Good thing I'm getting decent money for it though, or I might not be so okay with the wazoo abuse.

2. I went and bought myself a MacBook Pro. I'm in love. It's delicious and wonderful and it's really the first thing I've bought myself in all my years of freelance writing.

3. My uncle got hit by a pulp truck - or he hit it - on his snowmachine. The details are really sketchy as he can't talk right now. All I really know for sure is that he's got a trach tube, had deflated lungs, a bleed in his brain, and ended up with surgery consisting of 9 steel plates and 45 screws in his face. For now my dad is pretty much living at a hospital in Thunder Bay with his sister (my uncle's wife), until my uncle gets more stable and can be moved closer to home.

4. Ellery is mind boggling. Her vocabulary is amazing and she's as smart as a whip. It makes me tear up to think that she's going to be two in as many months.

5. My little brother is in grade 12 and is going to be 18 soon. I can't tell you what a weird feeling it was when that hit me a month or so ago. Sure, I've always known how old he was, but it just sort of HIT me one day...wow.

6. For my 30th birthday in June I'm going sky-diving. Can't remember if I already told you guys that, but it's my plan. I've wanted to do it forever, and I decided what better time than when I turn 30? Don't worry, I'll update my life insurance beforehand.

7. Um, erm, that may be it for now...or at least that's all I can remember at the moment. Oh! My hair is getting super long now. It's almost halfway down my back, which for me is crazy!

I think that's it. Love and kisses to all.

My Current Why List

2010-02-01T22:46:00.004-06:00

Why is it in cartoons that the animals all walk on their back legs and don't wear pants (or at the most, wear a short, ill-fitting tshirt), but then all go to bed in flannel pajamas?

Why does the postal service (in every country that I've ever mailed something to or received something from anyway) always lie about when a package will be delivered? Filthy liars, they're always late.

Why is it that when I paint my nails the polish never seems to fully harden, and I wake up with sheet creases in it no matter how many hours before bed I paint my nails?

Why do Ice Ice Baby and Bust a Move put me in a super happy, dancey-dance mood no matter what is going on or where I am?

Why, when I've always hated running, do I love it so much now? The burn in my legs and my lungs are things I look forward to now.

Why do I always decide the house needs to be clean at 10 o'clock at night?

When I get groceries, why do I almost always forget the one thing I really needed in the first place?

Say Cheese!

2010-01-20T22:31:00.005-06:00

Miss E is growing like a weed.
There is still the ongoing issue of no one taking pictures of her and I, so without those random times that I grab her and snap some of the two of us, there would be no photographic evidence that I exist.
In saying that, the other night she and I were home alone together and we were both in silly moods, so I decided to snap a few pictures.
Clearly she's scared of the flash now, and she's also entered into that weird age where when you tell her to smile or say "cheese" she offers this bizarre, squinty, tad bit crazy grin, which makes her eyes look like sliver moons and shows off her chipped front tooth.
*sigh*
That little ham kills me :)

Happy New Year, Dudes and Dudettes

2010-01-04T13:44:00.002-06:00

Wow, it's hard to believe 2009 is really over. It was by far the fastest year of my life so far. In some ways the most difficult, and in others, the easiest. I thought a lot this year, about all kinds of stuff. I feel like I know myself a little better because of it.

True, I ignored my blog and pretty much everyone else's (especially over the last 6 months or so), and I'm sorry for that, but I think it may have been necessary for me. Just one last thing for me to stress about (though I actually did stress about it), while I was figuring some things out.

I haven't made any resolutions for 2010 per se, but I have made some decisions about what I'd like to change/do this year. I think I'll keep them to myself for now, just because all but one was pretty emotional to come by. The only one that wasn't difficult was the whole "eat three meals a day" thing, which you'd think that by 29 years of age, I'd have covered. Sadly, I do not. I still often end up only eating once, and paying for it when my body rebels.

Ellery is growing like crazy. And I'm sure everyone thinks their kid is amazing, but damn, she really is. She can speak in complete sentences, has a vocabulary like a three year old, knows the alphabet, can count to 13, knows her first and last names, how old she is, where she lives, and started potty training the day she turned 18 months. And she sings! Even does harmonies with me...and the dance moves, good grief! Never mind the typical baby that dances by bobbing their knees, this kid twirls and sways and shakes her little bum with amazing rhythm. For being 20 months old now, I'm stunned most days.

I really need to post some pictures on here soon, geez Louise...

Anyway, hope you all had a wonderful and healthy dose of holidays, and I wish you love and happiness for this year!

I Need a New Creative Outlet

2009-12-15T23:43:00.002-06:00

I used to be a fairly creative person. I was always either writing (for myself), drawing, attempting some form of music, refinishing some piece of furniture - always with a project on the go. Now it seems as though I don't have time for anything.

Now this isn't meant to be some sort of whiny post, because as you can all attest, people get busy. I know you are all busy, everyone has their own things to do, life kind of takes over, so it's not about that.

It's about me letting myself get stifled.

I let myself get this way - into this routine of being a mommy, laundry service, wife, editor, and freelance writer - and now that's all I do.

I need to be creative! I need to take a class! I need to get back into photography! I need to do something to get my creative mind flowing again! Yi!

It's making me mental...or rather, it's making me extremely un-mental. At least as far as the right side of my brain goes.

And That's How You Know...

2009-12-06T14:13:00.002-06:00

...that your little brother is just as awesome as you thought he was.

Because even though he both makes you want to scream in frustration and laugh till you pee your pants, at 17 years old and super cute, he'll send you an essay to help him out with, but will sign it like this:

NEWSFLASH!!!

2009-11-26T11:46:00.003-06:00

My computer has temporarily (I hope!) been taken over by porn stars and men with permanent erections!

Now that I have your attention...I'm serious. Over the last 48 hours my home computer has been infected with some kind of crazy virus which randomly opens porn sites and commercials for viagra. Repeatedly. Without end. A brand new window every time.

This morning I woke up to 51 windows of porn. And though that might sound hot to some of you, I really didn't need to rub the sleep from my eyes to see screen after screen of muffless girls giving each other spankings. Ahem.

The really weird part about this, is that I *just* installed McAfee on my computer two weeks ago. It has been scanning and said that everything is nice and clean, but otherwise, my computer has been unprotected for years. And virus free. Go figure.

And the other part is that it keeps opening these things in Internet Explorer, which nobody uses. I'm a Firefox girl, so what the hell?

I dunno what's going on, but I know that it needs to be fixed. My computer is home all alone, turned off, most likely being infected by wave after wave of STD's by all the dirty porn stars and the men with the permanent erections that are screwing them...

For Shit's Sake

2009-11-24T07:01:00.003-06:00

Okay, so now I've got people emailing me, AND Reggie just posted a blog about how our little circle of bloggers is dying out.

And he's right. It sucks. I suck.

I realize I've asked for people not to give up on me about 15 times, but I have to ask one more time...please? I'm starting to realize that life just simply isn't going to slow down. This is just how it goes for the next...50 odd years (Freedom 79 baby, yeah!), so I had better just figure it out.

How about this - if I don't post a proper post tomorrow...um, I owe you...uh...10 bucks. Sound good? Yeah, not so much you say? Well, that's all I got, and to be honest, it would be Monopoly Money (which I really do have, and have even put into birthday cards), so how about I just say I'm going to post, and I do? Deal? Okay good, deal.

The Princess and the Pottery...oh, and ME!!!

2009-11-19T21:23:00.002-06:00

Sometime last month - or maybe it started in September, I honestly can't remember now - Princess and I went on a girl date. We went for lunch, then instead of our usual shopping excursion, we went to a pottery studio.
Not the kind where we would play out that sexy scene from Ghost, but the kind where everything is already made for you and you get to pick the piece you like and paint it, then leave it there for the little pottery fairies to fire and glaze and make it shiny for you.
In trying to decide what we would each pick, there was much excitement...which in reality was me running back and forth between shelves going "Oooh, I want this one! No wait, oooh I like this bowl, no no, I like this platter, no..." and Princess calmly picking two things and then deciding on one. She was grownup and lovely about it while I was all over the place, so excited to be doing something creative, since it's been about 2 freaking years!
She decided on a pitcher, while I picked a bowl. A beautiful curved bowl, low on one side with the sides getting higher as it went around, something wonky, like myself. As we set about deciding on designs, we chatted away, catching up on each others lives and being catty about the teeny-boppers that were running the place.

Princess stenciling a butterfly.

Ultimately Princess went with a gardeny sort of theme and I decided to paint koi fish on my bowl...you know...so it would be a "fishbowl." Believe me, I thought that was incredibly clever of me, and laughed about it for much of that first day.

Day 1

Princess posing mid-butterfly.

The koi "fishbowl" - note the atrocity in the bottom right...where one little fish stencil went to die.

Day 2

Painting...and more painting...

Doing three coats of paint for every little thing was tedious...particularly around every little fin. I swore a lot.

We spent something like four hours there that first day...then two or three the next, and finally met up there on the last day to pick up our finished pieces and pose for pictures.

Day 3

Princess' beautiful finished pitcher!

Me posing at floor level, for some ridiculous reason, with my finished fishbowl.

Blame the Bullets on the Cranky

2009-11-12T15:23:00.003-06:00

- I had a doctor’s appointment today for 9:30. I got in at 11:15. The walk-in people were getting in ahead of me. Talk about bullshit. I’m not wasting my time making an appointment anymore, what’s the point? The results of the appointment? She thinks I may have a sinus infection, which she says would explain the headache I’ve had for two months. I now have a prescription for something lovely to mess up my system even more. She also says my white blood cells and platelets are still out of whack, and is sending me for more blood work. Story of my life, blood work.

- I promised Princess about two weeks ago that I’d write the post we were each supposed to write about our artsy fartsy date, but I have yet to do that. I suck, I know.

- This is really lame, but one of the reasons I wasn’t posting before now besides being crazy busy? Was because I couldn’t post pictures. I literally had so much shit on my computer that I couldn’t download even one more photo from my camera because there was no disk space. Photoshop wouldn’t even open. So I toddled myself over to best buy and bought an external hard drive that’s 1 terrabyte. People tell me that I should be good with that. (And now here I am posting without a picture. That excuse isn’t holding up so well, is it?)

- My stomach has been aching for days. Kind of burning. I’m wondering if that ulcer I always joke about giving myself has finally come to fruition.

- I’m currently working on the biggest story of my writing career. It’s actually the cover story for a local magazine I write for. It involves me getting to interview the female Manitoban athletes who will be representing Canada at the 2010 Winter Olympics. I did a happy dance when I got this assignment – I may have even screamed. For me – and my resume – this is a BIG deal.

- Does it ever happen to anyone else where you kind of fall out of touch with someone, keep telling yourself you’ll email them, call them, facebook them, twitter them, smoke signal them, etc. but you just never do? Then more and more time goes by with neither of you communicating and suddenly you think it’s been too long and now it would just be awkward and that you should just accept that you’re done knowing that person? Well it happens to me, and in fact is currently happening with about three people. I really need to quit being such a suck.

- I’ve got three care packages open and more or less done for people, sitting on my dining room table right now. One for Reggie and Gigi, one for Sitting in Silence and one for James. I’m wondering if there will be some sort of miracle and perhaps I’ll get them done and sent for Christmas?

- Oh! And I bought my Christmas cards!!! Again, there will need to be some sort of miracle if I’m to get the damn things written and mailed. And you can’t even say “It’s the thought that counts,” because really? That’s baloney. It only counts if someone opens their mail and sees my name wishing them a Merry Christmas, Hanukkah, Kwanzaa, Atheist Day, etc.

Let's Try This Again, Shall We?

2009-10-26T22:42:00.002-05:00

Because I tend to do laundry at night, I nearly always go to bed with one load washing and another drying. Then when I get up in the morning I'm usually trying to be quiet, so I don't go in the laundry room unless I absolutely have to.

Then evening rolls around, I think something along the lines of "Hmm, I wonder where my new jeans are?" and I get smacked in the face with the realization that I've had a load of laundry sitting wet in the washing machine for somewhere around 20 hours. Eeew.

Usually I dump in more detergent, crank it on again, and rewash everything. Generally this works.

However, there are times that I've forgotten a load of laundry for longer. OR, that I leave a load of towels, which, for some reason, seem to hold smell more than regular clothes. OR, it's that time of summer when the water has that faint smell of algae, and the clothes never smell as fresh. That's bizarre I know, since I live in a city, but I notice it every year....trust me.

I have done all of those - forgotten towels, for a lengthy period of time, while the water was infested with algae stink...and in fact, have combined the three. And try as I might, I cannot get that mild stink out of those towels. I've slowly been tossing them out here and there, when I notice one smells particularly awful, or when the mood strikes me to pitch stuff, but still there were some hanging around.

Until yesterday.

Over the weekend I tried to do the same load of laundry three times. As in, forgot a big load of towels THREE times over the course of 48 hours. There's just no going back from that.

I informed the household that I wasn't even wasting the hydro to dry them and proceeded to put them all into a bag, carry the 47 pound mess of dripping wet cotton to the dumpster, and heave it in.

Then today I went and bought six enormous, fluffy, beautiful towels. Tonight I came home and threw them in the wash. So, we'll see how this goes...though, judging by the fact that I only remembered they were in the washer at all is because I decided to write this post, doesn't bode well for their life expectancy...

I Need My Teeth

2009-10-19T00:17:00.003-05:00

I love people that try to make others feel better. I try to be one of those people. I joke and listen and buy little gifts and do what I can to cheer them up.

But you know when you have those days? Those times when you're just cranky? Or irritated? Or maybe somebody did something to you that is a big deal to you, but then you tell someone else what happened and they just kind of go "Yeah, well they weren't trying to hurt you, right?" or "Oh, it's fine. Why are you so upset?"

And you just want to yell "WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LET ME BE *WHINY?"

*Insert word of your choice here - pouty, cranky, douchey, irritated, upset, etc.

Yeah, well I get that. It's friggin' irritating to have people try to smooth over my feelings. It kind of makes me want to kick them in the teeth. So from now on I'm going to give people a 10 minute grace period, where they can rant and rave and cry and pout, THEN I'll try to make it all better.

I think that's a good plan. I need my teeth.

So...Hi!

2009-10-13T22:08:00.008-05:00

Did you miss me? Yeah, I didn't think so. You must all be used to me updating at the speed of a narcoleptic turtle by now, right? Right.

So what's been going on? Well I'll tell you - it's been a whole lot of nothing. Except that it seems like I'm always busy. Weird right? Does that ever happen to anyone else? Seems like all you do is run like crazy, yet when you sit down to think about what you've been doing, you can't really think of anything?

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

Yesterday was Thanksgiving here in Canada. In a nutshell, here is what I'm thankful for: Ellery, my family, my friends, my health, love and second chances.

Ellery is growing like a weed! She's suddenly repeating every word, trying to recite the alphabet, trying to count to 10 (weird part is, she knows where to put the number 8 every time I count to her), using yes or no perfectly, showing signs that she may be ready to potty train sooner rather than later, and just generally being amazing. I cried today watching her, simply because I couldn't believe that she was mine. Love her.

I got a new tattoo just over two weeks ago now. It's bigger than the rest of the ones I have. It's two hibiscus flowers with a little E hidden in the vines on one side and her birth date written into the other side. I love it. And even though I'm 29, I still almost had a heart attack telling my mom. Her reaction was better than I expected - especially when I threw in that it was for Ellery - that won her over.

Tattoo about 2 minutes after it was finished. Three hours of needles. Not my favourite thing in the world.

In other news, check out that second pic! My hair is getting long!!

Otherwise...hmm, just working, painting pottery with Princess (which is for another post), playing with my camera, and um...that's about it.

This time I'm going to try really hard not to be such a slack ass with my blog. Remember those days when I used to post every single day?!?! That probably won't happen again, but about four times a week would be nice! Here's hoping!

You Should Be Doing That at Home

2009-10-02T07:45:00.004-05:00

You know what I don't get?

People that do things in the car that are really meant to be done at home.

Wellllll, okay, so maybe there have been one or two times that I've done "something" in a car that was more appropriate for home...but um...yeah, we're not talking about me...ahem...

ANYway, I'm more referring to the people that are writing emails on their blackberry, smoking, talking on their phone and reaching to turn the music up, reading a book while they're at the wheel and that sort of thing.

But what irks me most is the broads that are applying their makeup in the car.

I mean, seriously, you couldn't have squeezed in an extra five minutes at home throwing on some foundation, dousing yourself in blush and putting on your mascara?

Are you really saving yourself a lot of time by trying not to poke yourself in the eye while you're putting on eyeliner in a 4 inch mirror at a red light?

Is that weak little interior light really the best lighting to be putting on eyeshadow evenly?

Are you certain you're not going to hit a pothole during your drive and cram half a tube of lipstick into your teeth?

When it comes down to it, I don't care if your vehicle makeup application ends with you looking like Tammy Faye Baker, but I do care if you rear-end me while curling your eyelashes.

So do us all a favour, and get up five minutes earlier tomorrow morning so you can do that at home.

*rant over

I Need to Work on My Reactions

2009-09-24T08:08:00.001-05:00

Yesterday morning I went in to work early. I stopped for coffee on the way, which I don't normally do anymore. As anyone who drinks their coffee with sugar knows, having someone else make it for you is a bit of a risk- you either get too much sugar or not enough.

Now this may be hard to believe, but I tend to always need more :)

Anyways, as I'm walking out of the kitchen with my extra large coffee with no lid, I come dangerously close to running into James, a co-worker. Or more realistically, I come dangerously close to running into his belly button, since he's 6'3".

Me: (stop dead in my tracks and my eyes open wide)
James: (throws his hands up in mock shock at seeing me)
Me: uh
James: hehehe
Me: Aaaaaaaaaagh!!! (what can I say - it was a delayed reaction)
James: Ohhhhh, that's nice...
Me: What? (laughing)
James: That's always the reaction I like to get from the ladies.
Me: Oh, come on!
James: No, really, I love that scream of horror they do when they see me...
Me: Awww, James (laughing)
James: "Aaagh! It's James!"...Not really what I was going for.
Me: But maybe I was really screaming in awe at your obvious raw sexuality?
James: Well when you say it as a question, I tend not to believe you.
Me: Ah, touche.

Sex Isn't Always So Romantic

2009-09-22T19:32:00.004-05:00

Don't you just love in movies or in adult content tv shows when they "make love?"

Or wait, excuse me perverts, don't you just love when they portray making love?

Everything is super sexy and lovey, every whispered word is more meaningful and heartfelt than either one of them has ever uttered. Even when it's just a good old-fashioned boink fest it's still the sexiest thing you've ever seen.

Every hair is in place, her lipstick is freshly applied, his face is smooth, every move causes wave upon wave of ecstasy, no one says something they shouldn't have said, nothing ever slips, no one ever yells "Owwww!"

The moment of climax always seems so spectacular and perfectly timed that you'd swear they had been training for it with a coach. And then, when everything is done, neither one is sweaty or tired and they lay in each other's arms and drift off to sleep whispering their I love you's.

Give me a break.

Now let's be honest here...in real life? There's sweat. There's swearing. There sure as hell isn't perfectly coiffed hair. And I know for a fact that it's not really that sexy.

Ladies, have you ever tried to keep your legs pointed at a super sexy angle? You're just thinking "I know this looks hot, I know he loves my legs like this." Then all of a sudden...LEG CRAMP!!! And it's not just a quick little muscle spasm either, it's a hardcore, need to stand up and stomp your foot, biting your lip and muttering curse words kind of cramp.

Leaving your hair down in reality? It's in his face, your face, it's stuck to his chest, it's in your mouth, and all it's doing is making you even more sweaty. And half the time in real life he's sporting a 5 o'clock shadow and the girl is getting whisker burn all over the place.

Most of the time by the end of the show long hair is in one seriously large knot on the side of your head, mascara is smeared from your eyes, he's weak at the knees, both of you are whispering that you need water, and on the way to the bathroom you trip over the sweats that were just ripped off your body.

And what about the mess? On tv there's never a cleanup. You never see a dude walking to the bathroom with a used condom, or see a chick reaching for kleenex or a towel.

I dunno, is it just me? Or are everyone else's sex lives uber romantic all the time?

Slob City

2009-09-15T22:24:00.003-05:00

You guys know my deal - I work downtown, in the heart of Winnipeg, am an editor at a publishing house - and I'm 29. Most people would agree, that's pretty much "grown up."

During my commute, amidst my dancing and singing, I look around at the other people in the vehicles. My guess is that about 90% of those people are business people, heading to their downtown offices. These people are in business attire.

When I park my car and begin the five minute trek to my office, I often end up walking with a bunch of other worker ants. These people are also in business attire.

Thursday I wore a pair of jeans, a cute little shirt, flip flops and straightened my hair.

Friday it was chilly out, so I wore flip flops, new jeans - but they were made to look lived in, so they have a few "worn" patches and tiny rips in them, an AC/DC sweatshirt, silver hoop earrings and my hair in a ponytail.

Yesterday I wore jeans, flip flops, an old shirt that was once cute and my hair in a big mess of curls.

Anyone noticing a pattern here?

Like maybe I dress like a slob? Maybe I should be putting a little more effort into what I wear?

The fact is, even when I say I look like I just crawled out of a ditch, I generally don't look that bad - it's more that I look casual...extremely, extremely casual. But man, walking to work with all those "businessy" people, or going out for lunch with someone in a suit makes you notice how slobby you really are.

I used to get offended when people asked me what I did for a living and then when I'd respond they'd look at me and say "Really?! An editor?!?" I'm beginning to realize that maybe it's because I look more like someone who runs the till at 7/11.

Perhaps I should work on my "work look."

Not For the Easily Disgusted

2009-09-09T20:42:00.002-05:00

So, last week, the husband says to me "What is that smell? In the kitchen?" I had no idea, figured it was a poopy diaper, and we took the garbage out.

Still the kitchen smelled.

We thought it might be the garbage disposal, so he put one of the cleaning pellet thingies down there.

Still the stink.

Around Friday I was wondering if maybe something was rotting in the fridge, but when I opened it, there was no smell in there.

Saturday morning E and I packed up to head to Ontario for the weekend. When we got there safely I called husband to let him know. I asked how the morning had been.

He figured out where the smell was coming from...oh god...I'm gagging again just thinking about it. See, after we left, he walked into the kitchen, and saw a maggot on our stove. Yes, you read right, a maggot.

Turns out? A bird had gotten into the exhaust fan above our stove. And it was rotting. And it had bred maggots.

And it had been there...all week at least...while we cooked dinners and went about our daily lives. I gagged so hard on the phone that I puked.

And even though it's been cleaned, thoroughly, I still avoid the stove at all costs. Even more fodder for my dislike of cooking.

Reality Check

2009-09-04T06:43:00.002-05:00

I've been pretty absent for quite a while now. Something like 4 posts in 2 months or some garbage like that.

I've been engrossed in my own life. In Ellery, work, freelance, family, music, etc. But I've been ignoring some pretty major parts of my life.

That was all brought into check yesterday when I found out that a friend of mine (and ex boss) had passed away from cancer...in July.

I used to work for her right before I came to my current job. She was this amazing, hilarious red-headed goofball. She was married and had a beautiful baby girl who's only three years old. The last time I saw her was when I was eight months pregnant - then I got put on bedrest and had to cancel any more appointments with her.

In January we got a letter from her practice (she was a chiropractor) saying that she had to shut her office down for a while due to illness. I kept thinking it must have been her husband, or one of her parents that was sick. Though I intended to, I never called or emailed or stopped in at her house to check in on her.

I've been thinking about her lately, telling myself I should check in with her, maybe introduce her to Ellery. Then yesterday a co-worker asked me about an obituary she had seen a while back, asked if that was the woman I had worked with before. I checked. It was her. I read her obituary and sobbed at my desk. I'll never forgive myself for being such a goddamned lazy friend. She was 36 years old.

I never said anything about this earlier, but a co-worker (from my current job) passed away from cancer a few weeks ago. He was 35 years old.

Isn't it sad that it took the death of a friend to make me sit back and take stock of my life? To realize that lately anyways, I've missed things in my friend's lives, I'm sure in my family's lives, in all my blogger buddies' lives?

I'm heading home with Ellery tomorrow for the long weekend. I'm hoping to get in some good reflecting time and come back a little less self-involved.

Though I may not have said it lately, I love you all, very much.

A Bullety, Updatey, Paragraph Thingy

2009-08-20T19:55:00.006-05:00

Ellery has started repeating everything she hears - and I must say, for 15 months, she's pretty freaking good at it. Good enough that I need to start watching how many times I drop the f-bomb right now.

There are two things she's currently doing that melt my heart. The first is that she has finally started calling me mommy - but the really cute part? She says Me Mommy. Kind of like MY mommy. Adorable.
The second is when you ask her what her name is and she roars like a lion. I love it. But then when you say "Can you say Ellery?", she now says "Ellwy!" I may die from the cuteness of it all.

I've got freelance assignments up the wazoo. Both writing and photography. The writing has some tight deadlines, so it's hard to have time for anything else. But it's cash baby, sweet sweet cash.

Even without the freelance, we seem to be doing amazingly with money. I have no idea how this is possible - it just seems that lately even after paying all our bills and spending it here and there, we've still got a bunch left. I think this is the first time in my adult life that I haven't stressed over money - it's a nice feeling.

The other day we ran out of q-tips. I don't know if any of you remember a particularly riveting post where I explained my inability to find and purchase them on my own - but essentially it said that q-tips reside in some parallel universe that I cannot locate.
However...the other day we needed them, I went to Shoppers Drugmart, and I found them. Just like that. Boom!

It's been raining here for what seems like months. I don't ever remember a summer that was so shitty and rainy. My kid has been in her kiddie pool twice this summer - that is so not cool.
So hey, Mother Nature? Could you smarten the heck up? This is Canada, not England.

This Is Getting Old, Isn't It?

2009-08-18T10:33:00.002-05:00

I am shocked and appalled at my lack of blogging.

Even Rock Chef, who was in the bush with no computer access, managed to post while he was away.

I didn't even read blogs during this past few weeks.

I have no excuses. I have no reasons.

All I can say is that life got in the way.

And sometimes that's just the way it goes.

So today was my apology day, and tomorrow is back to our regularly scheduled programming. No, not silence - posts!!!

Sidenote: Over these past few weeks, I've come to better appreciate the people in my life. The ones that are always there, the new ones, the ones I love and adore, the blog buddies, the email buddies - all of you. I wouldn't be me without you.

Excuse Me While I Kick My Own Ass

2009-07-28T07:07:00.006-05:00

As if.

One week since I've posted.

I'm completely disgusted.

I imagine Rock Chef may quit talking to me soon.

Anyways, I was going to list a bunch of crap about why I was so busy - stuff like office drama, watching E, running, neglecting Ramona, doing laundry, cleaning and all that other stuff - but I realized that my life is always like that. And so is everyone elses. So no point whining about it because we're all in the same boat.

Instead I decided to give you a little photo montage, because I know you all really want to see that...okay, I know you probably don't...especially because the pictures aren't anywhere near cool, but this is the mood I was in today, so ha!

Last night I bought some new mascara. It promised not only amazingly long-looking lashes, but a sparkle to boot! I couldn't resist the idea of having sparkly lashes, so I bought it and decided to try it out this morning.

So here we go:

I always have a good time blow-drying my hair.
I'm weird, what can I say.

Straighten, straighten, straighten - story of my life.

So check this out - do you see any super sparkly, glimmery, fantastical magic-ness coming from my eyelashes?
Yeah, me neither.

And then I was like, "Ali did you really think your eyelashes were going to be sparkly and gorgeous if you bought this mascara?"

The answer was no, I didn't. But I thought for that kind of packaging I would at least see maybe a hint of a glimmer.

Ah, no matter. They did their job and got me to buy the stupid stuff.

Happy Tuesday!

Middle of the Night Conversation

2009-07-21T13:44:00.003-05:00

*Just as a pre-cursor, the husband finally went to the doctor about his snoring, and has been diagnosed with severe sleep apnea. So now you guys all know I wasn't exaggerating when I was always complaining about his snoring.
Anyways, he now has a machine that helps him breathe at night, which has a water reservoir that needs to be filled, and comes complete with a Darth Vader-esque face mask he has to wear.

About 2am, I roll over and notice that he's sitting up on the side of the bed.

Ali: Chris? Are you okay?
Husband: Yeah…
What are you doing?
I’m just…nothing.
Do you feel okay?
Yeah.
Okaaaaay.
I lay back down but keep staring at his back curiously.
I just need to get some water for my machine.
What? Didn’t you just fill it up tonight?
Nope.
Oh, okay then.
I know I saw him filling it up earlier in the evening – I’m beginning to realize that something is up, or else he’s still sleeping.
So are you going to go fill it?
Nope.
He reaches over and picks up the Darth Vader part of the mask, and puts it on the very edge of his pillow, then lays down beside me.
I keep watching him because I know there’s something going on.
Okay, I’m going back to sleep then, kay?
Okay.
A few moments pass and I start to drift off again.
I thought there was a spider on it.
What?!!?
All I heard was spider so I immediately started to panic.
On my mask. I dreamed there was a spider on it.
I start laughing softly.
So that’s why you took it off? You didn’t need water, did you?
Nope. But I was embarrassed to tell you…
Laughing.
Oh Chris, it’s fine, you were dreaming. I think you’re still asleep.
Yeah, okay.

About an hour later I turned over again and he was finally putting it back on. Guess he decided the spider was gone.

Sexy Hair? I Wish...

2009-07-19T22:43:00.005-05:00

I don't know about any other women, but I'm always wishing I had sexier hair.

You know the kind I'm talking about - that tousled, soft, touch me, voluminous head of locks that has men and women alike stopping in their tracks going "Oooooooh!"

The kind where I should be walking in slow motion with a sultry grin on my face, my hair gleaming and bouncing in the sunshine.

The kind where photographers are following me around, shooting frame after frame of me as I twist and turn, always with this knowing smile on my face that says "I've got great hair, you know you want it..."

Yeah, that's the kind of hair I want.

Yesterday the husband and I talked about this. I was telling him how after I shower every morning I twist my hair up into a towel while I put on some makeup and brush my teeth. Then just before I leave the bathroom, I untwist the towel and shake my hair down my back. And you know what? It looks hot. Every freaking time.

I'm always thinking "Damn my hair looks hot! I'm just going to leave it like this today!"

Sadly, that never goes according to plan. In fact, within 20 minutes of exiting the bathroom feeling like a true sexpot, you can be sure I look anything but sexy. It seems that the moment my hair is kissed by outside air (and that's just outside the bathroom, not even outside the house) it turns into a frizzy, fluffy, deflated, ridiculous mess.

Suddenly there are these horns of hair sticking out at odd angles. Suddenly the natural curl seems to fall from my tendrils. Suddenly it looks like someone backcombed just the top of my head. Suddenly? Sexy hair does not inhabit my home.

I've tried products, tried leaving it alone, tried curling it, straightening it, perming it (when perms were cool), and sadly I've just come to the realization that I'll never have that perfect, sexy hair.

And the funny thing about it? The really ridiculous part? The days I get the most compliments on my hair are the days when I don't even brush it. Go figure.

Quickly, Quickly

2009-07-15T08:48:00.002-05:00

Hi lovies!

Life is a bit hectic at the moment, hence the no-post-since-Friday issue.

Husband is out of town for the week, gone on a fishing trip with my dad. My daycare chick is on holidays too, so my mom is staying with me for the week to watch Ellery.

Work is busy, which I love, so no complaints there.

It's weird, most of the time it's like I'm a single parent anyways, due to the husband's crazy work schedule. Days that he works he leaves just as I'm getting home from a run, then gets back after Ellery is in bed for the night. Nights that he works he leaves an hour after I get home at night, then gets home just after I leave in the mornings.

Him being out of town though? Seems infinitely worse! I don't really know how, because it's not that I see him any less than usual, but perhaps it's the mental realization that he's not here? I dunno, but it's odd.

So yeah, life is busy and I'm literally running like a mad-woman from 5:30am till I finally crash somewhere around 11pm.

Hope you all are doing wonderful, and I hope to sit down for a decent post soon!

Vehicle Related Irks

2009-07-10T08:24:00.002-05:00

There are a few things in the world that really bother me – and today I'd like to share the ones of a vehicular variety - yay fun!

When people drive with their dog on their lap.
Never, ever, in any situation is this an acceptable thing to do. They’re in your line of sight, they’re standing in front of the wheel, they’re hanging out the window, they’re moving around. Honestly, what kind of douche actually thinks this is okay?
Taking your pet for a little ride in your vehicle is one thing, if they’re on the other side of the car, or even in a carrier, fine. But crawling over you while you’re in control of a ton of metal moving at high speeds? Hells no.
First off, your pet could get hurt. Second, you could get hurt. Third, if you’ve got someone else in your car, do you really want Fluffy to be the reason your passenger is decapitated after a car accident? Loose objects in a vehicle become dangerous in an accident.

People that don’t buckle their kids in.
If you can’t take the time to buckle your kid in properly whether you’re going a block away or across the country, you don’t deserve children. I pray you never have to live through losing a child because of something so ridiculous.

People that insist on showing off the power or speed of their vehicle by driving like a moron.
We get it, you have a nice car. It’s shiny, fast, powerful – and you probably paid half a year’s wages too much for it. Oh, and psst! Everyone knows when you’ve gotten a particular car to compensate for something else, it’s not a secret.
So why, when it’s raining, do you have to speed and fishtail down the busiest street in the city? Why do you have to roar past everyone when there is black ice on the road? In the summer, why do you have to pull up next to people at a red light and rev your engine like you want to race? Newsflash: No one cares about your car but you. And in fact, if people have an opinion at all, it’s probably “Holy mama, that’s a hot truck/car/suv/scooter, but what a jackass behind the wheel!”

Cranky post, but honestly, I'm in a great mood! Happy weekend!

I Miss the Bestie

2009-07-06T21:31:00.002-05:00

I'm pretty sure by now, anyone that comes around here with any sort of regularity will know who the Bahama Mama is. For anyone that actually doesn't, she's my best friend of 29 years who moved to Nassau, Bahamas in 2001, and who I love more than I could ever say - though I would never tell her that because she's totally not a "share your feelings" kind of person.

I'm actually on the phone with her right now. And I'm cry/laughing, because she just told me about how she dropped off a friend at the airport the other day super early in the morning, then when she went to leave she found out the parking lot attendant wasn't in yet. So instead of just sitting in her car at the gate, she decided to reverse and drive back to the airport to grab a coffee and wait - but when she backed up, she forgot about the row of spikes behind her that was made to stop people driving into the lot the wrong way, thus avoiding having to pay. She also forgot about the sign warning her about those spikes, that said reversing into them would cause damage to her car. So she backed up. Then heard a bang. Then realized what she had done, didn't know what else to do, and sat there and laughed. When she finally got out to check the damage, she realized she had ripped a chunk off the side of her car, and that it was hanging by a thin strip of metal. So once the lot opened, she drove home, dragging the chunk of car as she went.

This is the kind of stupid ass, hilarious crap of a situation that we used to get into on a regular basis. Had she done that while I was with her, I would have screamed at the bang, sat there in disbelief with her, got out of the car with her, laughed so hard at the car that I had to squat to keep myself from peeing my pants, then been her lookout on the drive home, ensuring we never lost the dragging piece of car.
I've figured out that in the past 8 years, I've seen her 20 times, which is so not enough.

I miss her and our shenanigans.

Dear Body,

2009-07-02T05:38:00.001-05:00

I think it's about time that you stop being a jackass.

I know you're trying your best to make me give up this new healthy attitude I've decided to take on, but I'm telling you right now, you may as well just throw in the towel.

Going for a run nearly every morning is now a part of our existence. Flossing our teeth every night is just something that's going to happen. Eating three meals a day - and sometimes snacks - is a good thing. These things make us better! We look better, we feel better, we actually eat...I'm having a hard time understanding why you're fighting this so much.

If it's because in the past, we've been lazy, and sometimes gone entire days without eating, I can almost understand it. Having no sustenance would make even the most energetic person feel like a lump.

I do have to give lungs some kudos though. You guys don't scream at me anymore while we're running. You seem almost happy to be out there, working hard and passing out the extra oxygen like it's got an expiry date.

I think in general, it's stomach and legs that are giving me the most grief. Stomach, you seem to balk at the amount of food I've been putting into you, but I'm trying to convince you that I won't starve you any more. This surplus of food will stop you from panicking and trying to eat yourself - a faster metabolism will make us both happier!

And legs...*sigh*...oh legs, what am I going to do with you? I understand that all this exercise might be foreign to you, as in past years we've been lazy, but you really must come around. I've dealt with the pain in knees, and now they don't ache anymore after a run. Calves actually seem to be quite thrilled with all of the movement, and are taut and happy. But now, shins are giving me a great deal of grief - to the tune of feeling like I got line-drived by a fastball in each leg.

The fact that I'm almost limping when I get home every morning now is NOT okay.

I don't know how much longer I will tolerate your insubordination. I'm almost to the point now where if I could trade you in for a new set, I would.

Don't you want to be hot? Don't you want to hear people say "Wow! She's got a great set of gams!" I for one, do. So pain or not, we're going to workout. Eventually you'll learn to love it.

Either that, or I'll hack you off.

I Love Not Wearing Pants, But Whoa...

2009-06-28T22:26:00.002-05:00

On Friday I almost walked out of the house with no pants on.

And I wasn't wearing a skirt, either. Or shorts. Just underwear.

Now if someone else told me that they had almost walked out of the house with no pants, I would have laughed, but wondered to myself how in the world anyone could almost do that. I mean, come on! It's pants! A bottom to go with your top! Something to protect you from the wind, rain, snow, sun, perverts, hot leather seats, etc. How could you possibly forget you weren't wearing them?!

I'm here to tell you that you can forget that you're not wearing pants.

When you're getting a one-year-old ready for the day, eating breakfast, doing laundry, making coffee, checking your email, updating your twitter, looking at pictures and packing a diaper bag - it can happen.

When you've already got the diaper bag and your purse on your shoulder, your flip flops on, your travel mug in your hand, and a baby on your hip, it's always a good idea to look down. Just once, to make sure that you are indeed fully dressed.

And when you realize that you're not, put everything down, swear in disbelief, have a really good laugh, and put your damn pants on.

Am I Getting Too Old For This?

2009-06-24T22:46:00.004-05:00

I'm 29.

I know, I know - 29 isn't old. Believe me, no matter how much I bitch and moan about it, I realize that I'm still on the young side.

I've said before that I don't plan on being old till I'm dead, and I firmly believe that.

But I've started to wonder, am I getting too old for certain things?

Things like sleepovers, and pigtails, and drinking pretend wine (sparkling apple juice) from a real wine glass...those sorts of things.

Am I now one of those people that people will look at now and say "She's too old to be wearing a skirt that short!" or "I can see her bra strap peeking out from under her shirt, I thought it was only 16 year-olds that did that..."

I've been talking this over with a couple people, and I honestly don't know.

But the one thing that I'm wondering about - the one thing that will break my heart to have to give up because I'm "too old" - is the flowers I wear tucked behind my ears in the summer.
I don't do it every day, but I adore wearing them. It makes me feel summery, and flirty, and youthful and happy. The idea of being too old to do it genuinely makes me sad, but I wonder if it makes me look ridiculous.

But really, being the person that I am, and never really caring much for what other people might think is ridiculous about me, I guess I don't really care.

Yeah, you know what? As I've sat here reading this over, I really don't care! Flowers are me and they make me happy, so I'm wearing them. And that is that.

Random Parking Lot Idiots

2009-06-22T20:35:00.005-05:00

I work smack dab in the middle of downtown Winnipeg. If I was one block over I'd be in the actual center.

As you can imagine, the cost of parking is hideous. I would expect dinner, a movie and sex for the amount you have to pay in most lots.

Luckily for me, right behind my building - and after walking underneath an overpass which houses some train tracks - there is a ginormous parking lot. Or, more specifically, there is a huge expanse of gravel which the City of Winnipeg charges you 5 bucks a day to park in. I consider this a steal, so I park there throughout the spring, summer and fall. Once winter rolls around though, I upgrade to the more costly lots so I can plug my car in. If you don't get -50 temps in the winters, you probably don't get that, but don't you worry.

Anyways, it's basically just a free-for-all of where you're going to park in this beautiful dirt lot.
Most people are smart, and will park in rows, two vehicles deep. This ensures that everyone can get out when their day is done.

But of course, as in any situation, there are always idiots.
Take Idiot #1. He came into the lot late, but decided that he didn't want to walk an extra 20 feet, so he parked directly behind one of the first cars in. In his laziness, he failed to notice that there was already someone on the other side of the car he parked up against.

Now when poor Jim comes out of the government office and needs to get home, he'll be stuck in between the guy that parked properly behind him, and Idiot #1.

Then we have Idiot #2. As with Idiot #1, he was being a lazy ass. He decided to park at the end of a row of cars, ensuring himself a straight shot out of the lot when he was done his day. Little does he care, or realize, that the people parked to the left of him will be unable to get out of their spots until he comes and moves his 1995 Ford Taurus shitbox out of the way.

So far, neither of these types of idiots has boxed me into my spot. That being said, I have absolutely no issue with slashing all 4 of the tires of anyone that is stupid enough to actually do it.

*Please don't be jealous of my mad graphics skills. For a small fee, I can whip you up some top of the line art for your blog, as well.

Um, Whoops?

2009-06-22T08:31:00.001-05:00

Just got in trouble for not posting in so long.
I honestly didn't realize I'd been such a slacker.
I'll post tonight, promise.
Have a great day!

You Got a Burger to go With That Shake?!?!

2009-06-16T22:44:00.002-05:00

Outside my office building there is currently a construction crew ripping up the avenue and back lanes. The whole process is supposed to take about 4 weeks, with only 1 down so far, and apparently it will result in smoother driving surfaces and a nicer parking lot. Not that I drive on that particular surface, or park in that lot, but no matter.

Every morning (and lunch hour, and evening) there are a whack of guys outside - some working, some smoking, some standing - but all looking. At everyone. Or more precisely, at every woman. So far I haven't actually heard any whistles, or comments, but they don't even try to hide the fact that they're checking you out. They very blatantly stare, craning their necks as you pass, and pretty much watch till you're at your destination.

I've decided that the guys sitting in the trucks, waiting for the holds to be filled up have the best job. They literally just get to hang out in the cab, listening to music and watching the passers-by, then every few hours they drive somewhere and drop all the old asphalt off.

If I ever become a construction worker I'm going to try my damnedest to get the truck job. And I'm going to ogle and whistle in appreciation aaaaallllllll day.

Enough is Enough - Lesbian Doctor, May I Have an Appointment?

2009-06-11T19:50:00.002-05:00

Remember a while ago when I was whining about being sick? And about how it lasted for just shy of a month?

Well the healthy spell after it lasted about 6 days.

Last Friday I was making crazy animal sounds in the car to keep Ellery entertained, and all of a sudden I felt a burn in my throat. I coughed for a few minutes, then decided to just tone down the monkey shrieks and tiger roars and all would be right with the world again.

Then later that night I started to cough. This really tight, wracking cough that makes me wish for the sweet release of a lung from my body, just so I can stop hacking.

But no dice.

When my mom called me on my birthday she listened to me for about 7 seconds before yelling "Are you sick again?! Is this the same thing as before? Is it something new?!?"

I told her it felt different than last time. I said that Chris had bent down to kiss me the night before, cupping my face in his hands, and I had almost cried when he touched the glands in my neck because they were so swollen.

"Alison Anne! You call and make a doctor appointment! Tomorrow! This is ridiculous! You've been sick for months!!!"

I tried telling her this was something new and that it would go away on its own, but she wouldn't hear anything about it. She knew anyways - smart woman that she is - that my dad would be talking to me next, and that he could probably convince me to go.

Sure enough, he wished me a happy birthday, then he lowered his voice, and talked very slow and soothingly, as if to a five year old..."Okay babe, you sound pretty awful." I told him I knew that, but that I was sure I was fine. "Yeah okay, you think that honey, but you're not a doctor. This is no good and you should go get checked out, mkay?" Then before I realized it I was talking in a little voice myself "Okay, daddy."

I don't think I'll ever grow out of being a little girl with him.

As of this morning I had yet to call, but when I sat down at my desk at work and realized that every single part of my body was aching, on top of the aching chest and throat and oh-so-sexy bark, I called the husband and he booked me an appointment. For Monday morning. With our old, lesbian doctor. The one who strips me naked for an earache or a stubbed toe. The one I am in the process of transferring away from, but have forgotten to take care of some paperwork, thus am still her patient.

I'm praying that I get better over the weekend, or Monday morning is going to have me in for a sexual assault in the form of a check-up.

Note to self: Next week, finish the transfer paperwork and get yourself officially signed up with the movie-star look-a-like doctor who agreed to take you as a patient last year.

Spectacles and Cornea Damage

2009-06-10T10:41:00.003-05:00

I'm going to get my eyes checked today. I have no doubt that I'll need new glasses because my eye sight seems to have totally gone down the crapper. I noticed it before I was pregnant, then noticed that it seemed to be worse while I was pregnant, but decided to wait.
I read somewhere once that your eyes can change while you're pregnant, but that sometimes it can go back to the way it was, so holding out for a bit seemed like the best option.
I hate getting my eyes checked though. Not the actual exam, but that one test they do that tests your eye pressure. Where you look into that machine, focus on an image and it blows a puff of air at your corneas so hard that you'd swear your eyes were now up against the back of your skull? I loathe that test.
I used to nearly hyperventilate when I knew that test was coming. I would panic, and close my eyes, and swear - at one office I had two ladies trying to distract me with random dirty jokes, just because I was freaking so bad.
The last time though, I found that they had refined it a bit so that now it just feels like my eyes are getting a tiny puff of air. Much more manageable.
Plus, I love picking out new glasses! Is that nerdy of me? I only wear them when I'm driving or in a movie theatre or something, but I do love them. I actually find glasses quite sexy on most people. Maybe not the coke bottle thick, taped up, so-big-they-cover-your-entire-cheek kind, but for the most part, glasses are hot. And they make people look smart. I love smart people.

Okay, enough random babbling about my eyeballs...

My Last Birthday...Ever?

2009-06-08T08:19:00.003-05:00

Today I turn 29.

More precisely, I turn 29 at 6:36pm tonight.

I'm not super excited about it, but not really upset about it either.

On the one hand I'm like: Duuuuuuude. It's my last year in my 20's. My last year being "young." My last year before I have to be a "real" grown-up.

But on the other hand I'm like: So? I've been married forever, I've already got a kid, a sedan, a career, and a pretty sweet life, so what's the big whup?

Basically, I don't care about being 29, I just didn't like looking in the mirror on Friday and noticing some fine lines around my eyes.

That sucked.

Ah well, happy Monday!!!!

Daily Commute Obervations

2009-06-04T12:39:00.005-05:00

Every morning I leave my house by about 7:30 to begin the drive downtown. As I'm driving I'm usually listening to music, sipping my coffee and dancing wildly - much to the chagrin and disdain of my fellow commuters. The frowns and disapproving looks they get on their faces when they glance over and see me being all peppy and happy in the morning is a dead giveaway of their annoyance.

I find that about 88% of the vehicles are full of women, and that most of them tend to look about 47. They also seem to all look very haggard, and a little disheveled. You know the type - the ones in your office who are sporting the business suits from about 13 years ago, with the shoulder pads and large yellow gold jewellery? That never wear anything over a one inch heel, consistently have runs in their pantyhose, and that always look like they haven't had a decent haircut since 1985? (Not that there are anything wrong with those women - they are just the ones that seem to be commuting every morning.)

Anyway, so every morning I drive downtown in a sea of these women. The other 12% of the vehicles are made up of delivery trucks, construction trucks, City of Winnipeg vehicles, and transit buses.

But the commute home is what always boggles my mind.

It seems that sometime between when I start work at 8 and leave for home at 4, all of those women become men. During the drive home when I look around (still dancing wildly) I always notice that there are barely any women.

Suddenly there are Mazda Miatas with 63 year old men behind the wheel, SUVs full of 30 and 40 year old guys with a buddy in the front seat, dudes on motorcycles and street bikes, and good old boys in pickup trucks that don't look like they belong in the city.

Now here are my questions: When I drive to work in the morning, are the men still at home or already at work? Do the women just stay later than their required 8 hours?

Or is what I really think is happening, actually true...

...is the reason the men all look so disheveled and odd in the morning because they are actually all in drag, and by the end of the day are sick of being "all dolled up" and decide to just be dudes?

Mornings and a Ruined Flow

2009-06-02T09:26:00.001-05:00

Mornings are one of those times when I like to be organized. I find that being a Gemini seems to keep most of my life pretty hectic, so I've found that I've always enjoyed having a little time every morning all to myself, to get ready for the day.

When it was just the husband and I, that was easy. On days when he worked he would be out of the house by 6:40am, then I would get up and go about my morning routine. When he didn't have a shift that day, he would stay in bed and completely out of my way.

Once Ellery came along things changed, but since I didn't have to work it wasn't too tough. My routine just got shifted to a later time slot, usually when she was having a morning nap.

Now one thing about this morning routine is that if it gets interrupted, or time shifted at all, I'm thrown off. I hate that feeling. I'm not entirely obsessive compulsive, and it's not like I have a breakdown or anything, but I feel disheveled when it happens.

My mornings have been thought out and strategically organized: I get up at 5:30 every morning and go for a run. I'm usually home just after 6, then I hop in the shower and throw on some makeup. Next I make my way to the kitchen and turn on the coffee pot, then blow dry my hair, plug in my straightener, grab some cereal and go sit in the living room and eat in blissful silence. Then I head back to the kitchen, pour a cup of coffee, get dressed, straighten my hair, brush my teeth, grab my lunch and a coffee to go, and head out to my car.

The other thing is, I always have my lunch ready and in a bag in the fridge, the coffee is set to go and just needs to be turned on, I try to have my clothes more or less laid out, and I have everything otherwise - ipod, phone, flashdrive, keys, sunglasses etc. - all ready in my purse. For me anyways, I find it best to be organized since it's so easy for me to lose my train of thought.

On days when I have to take Ellery to daycare, the way we do things changes a little to make time for waking her up, feeding her a bottle, getting her dressed, feeding her breakfast, getting her outside clothes on, and having a few minutes of play time, but still it's pretty organized.

So when something happens like my husband strolling into the washroom just when I'm about to take a shower, or Ellery waking up early, or having a poopy diaper when I'm supposed to be straightening my hair, it throws me off.

For years now I've been telling Chris that he throws off my flow. And that's exactly what he does, he disrupts my routine and throws everything into upheaval. Okay, so it's not that bad, but it does throw me off, and actually makes me a bit cranky. I'm forever yelling "You're ruining my flow!"

You'd think by now he would know just to stay the hell out of my way in the mornings, wouldn't you? Hehe.

*Hmm, reading this over, I sound a little neurotic - but quite honestly, it's the only part of my life where I'm a little organized.

That Stink!

2009-06-01T05:38:00.004-05:00

I have a peeve about public restrooms that goes well beyond my issues with people leaving enough pubes on the toilet seat to knit a sweater.

My issue is the stink.

You know the one I'm talking about - where you walk in and are assailed with a stench so foul that your eyes tear and you start to gag?

Yeah, you guys know. I hate walking in on that.

First off, it's just gross. I mean, everybody poops, but what exactly are you eating that it smells like rotting cauliflower and battery acid mixed with roadkill on a hot summer day?

Second, it's awkward if you happen to be walking in just as the culprit is walking out of their stall. What are you supposed to do? Fake a smile while you're wiping the tears off your cheeks and pretend it wasn't them?

Thirdly, once the person leaves and you're left in the bathroom, you're just a sitting duck for the next person that walks in. You know damn well that once they come in, see you standing at the sink washing your hands, then take a whiff, they're going to immediately think you're the one who stunk up the joint.

You just can't win.

And you think guys are DUMB!!!!!?

2009-05-28T07:01:00.004-05:00

HI!!

Rock Chef here!

After reading Wreggie's post here, I begged and begged Ali to allow me to do a guest post, and she eventually agreed. I know she comes across as a tough cookie, but she can't bear to see a grown man cry!

Anyway, here it is. Watch and learn!

Something Is Wrong

2009-05-26T05:59:00.002-05:00

I walked in this morning as usual to feed my blog desire. I sat down…turned on the light and suddenly it was all surreal. Everywhere there were splashes of pink and the smell of baby lotion permeated my nose.

I don’t know how to explain this except I felt all girly. I smelled like a woman. I felt like a woman. But I not a woman…I am a man trapped in a woman’s blog. I broke into spontaneous tears.

No really.

You see this is actually Wreggie guest blogging in Ali’s most private world.

She keeps a neat blog here. As I look around everything seems to be in order unlike her real life.

Thank goodness she invited me in the spring because I could never would have blog from here in the winter.

I swear this is strange. I’ve always been on the outside looking in. Now I am inside the blog looking out.

But instead of taking advantage of my new found trust I have come to respect this place.

This is the place where Ali has shared her joys and sorrows.

I remember two posts early on that stand out. One was about her on a weekend camping trip with friends.

The second post was when Aki blogged with a buzz. That was so funny.

Over the years I have become friends with Ali. Oh she is a Gemini alright. On again and off again.

Well I’m going to quietly back out of here and go back to my place.

Thanks Ali!

Just FYI

2009-05-20T11:20:00.004-05:00

For anyone that might be wondering...I've been sick for a week now - achey, congested, going through a box of kleenex a day, and headachey - it sucks.

Ellery has also been sick for a week - congested, coughing, puking and feverish - and that sucks even more.

She's also pretty much quit sleeping at night. She'll lay down for a few hours, then be up for hours, then sleep another hour, then be up till it's almost time to get up, then I'm having to wake her to take her to daycare for the day.

I'm not sure what's up, but I'm thinking the fact that we were away this past weekend, she had a big birthday party, she's sick, adjusting to daycare, teething, and on the verge of walking might be a little much for her to take at one time.

Hopefully she feels better soon - for all of our sakes. We need sleep.

Hope everyone else is great - be back soon!

'Tis the Season...

2009-05-15T11:06:00.001-05:00

...for hella-big, killer spiders to invade my bathroom.

Seriously, could we just have one "spring" where spiders don't come up the drains? Please?

*I put spring in quotations because we have a snowfall warning in effect - for today.

Anyhoo, on to my monster arachnid story...

It's 6am, and I have just stumbled to the bathroom. I strip down, pee, wash my hands in the sink, then turn to start the shower. As I'm reaching for the faucet, I catch a glimpse of wild movement directly below me, about 4 inches from my toes.
I jump back and scream, then remember that I've got a sleeping husband, and sick, sleeping baby mere feet away, and I clamp my hands over my mouth and lower the octave on my scream.

Sidenote - It seems I haven't matured at all from this whole spider debacle.

My huge, burly, 8 legged foe tries to fake me out with a "maybe I'll go left, maybe I'll go right, maybe I'll come right at you, no, I'm going left manoeuvre" while I just keep backing up towards the door, screaming into my hand, and panicking.

In about 12 seconds, these thoughts fly through my brain: I've got to get the f*ck out of here! Maybe I can go get Chris? Nope, that will just wake Ellery and she's sick, so she definitely needs her sleep. I'll go get a shoe and stomp him! No, that will still wake Ellery - let's face it, you're not exactly quiet when you're trying to murder something. Maybe I should just get in the shower and pretend he's not here? Then when I get out he might be gone...No stupid, because then while you're brushing your teeth or something he's going to be crawling up your legs! What can I kill him with that's long enough so that my hand is at least 2 feet from him, but that I can really squish him good?

So I wildly rip open the cupboards under the sink, silently praying (since aloud, I'm still screaming) that mysteriously there is a combat boot, a bottle of insecticide, a gun, or a bottle of hairspray and a lighter.

What I found was nail polish remover, toilet paper, tums, and such other items that definitely weren't going to help unless the spider either needed a manicure, had pooped himself, or had a tummy ache - all of which I wasn't planning on finding out.

But then suddenly, in the back, I caught sight of a bottle. A wonderful, nearly 2 foot tall bottle of drain cleaner!

I quickly yanked it out, poised myself above him, and SLAM, SLAM, SLAM!!! I repeatedly smashed the bottle down onto where the spider should have been. But every time I lifted my weapon, he would come scurrying out, having narrowly avoided death. He managed to get himself into the small groove between the tub and the floor, and pulled himself in to wait me out. He knew that the rounded corners of my bottle wouldn't fit into the space he'd gotten himself into.

But the more frustrated I got, the angrier I got, and the more I would slam the bottle down near him. I must have scared him a little, because he started making his way along the side of the tub, towards the wall behind the toilet. I watched him with the stealth of a lioness, and eventually his cockiness got the better of him, when instead of staying close to the perimeter, he decided to round off the curve between the wall and the tub, thus putting himself about 1.5 inches outside of his safety zone.

I grit my teeth, raised the bottle above my head, and said "Big mistake. Now you die, f*cker!"

And he did.

In a black, gooey, mess.

I left the remains and the bottle for the husband to dispose of, and went about my morning.

Happy Birthday Baby Girl!!!!

2009-05-13T07:25:00.001-05:00

Dear Ellery,

I can't believe a year has passed since you officially came into my life. It literally feels like yesterday that I was sitting at home on bed rest, praying, hoping, and doing a lot of crying, doing everything within my power to will you into the world so that I could finally hold you in my arms.

This past year has been by far the most amazing in my life, and I have you to thank for that.
Let's see - where to begin? It seems in the past month or two you've been growing and learning at warp speed. You now eat "big people" food, you can say a few words, you wave hello and good-bye, you crawl at least 10/mph, and will be walking on your own within two weeks, I have no doubt.

You've recently discovered temper tantrums, which I must say, are a bit amusing. You've definitely inherited that flair for the dramatics from me, so how can I fault you? And I know that right now, most of the shrieks are out of frustration of not being able to just tell us what you want, not because you're actually mad about anything.

A few days ago you started using this hilarious fake laugh when daddy or I are laughing. I think it's probably your way of trying to be included in the conversation, so now when you do it, we join you. It usually ends up with all three of us laughing huge belly laughs, because even you realize how funny it actually is.

Your love of books warms my heart. While most babies see their nighttime bottle and make a beeline for it, you are almost completely uninterested until I say "Ellery, is it time for books?" and then you make a mad dash for my legs, and wait impatiently for me to scoop you up. I'm glad that that's another thing you've picked up from me :)

Finally, FINALLY, you have also decided that maybe a snuggle once in a while isn't so bad. It's only been in the past month or so you've decided to let us hug you, but it was worth the wait. Now you love to come up on my lap, while we wrestle and I blow on your neck and tummy, and you giggle, and "hug" me by saying "Awwww" and pushing your forehead up against mine.

The way you grin with your two little teeth, the way you have to find the light in every room and point it out to me, listening to you "talk" to random objects, or to yourself in the mirror, are always the best parts of my day.

I love you more than anything in the world, and you have truly made my life complete.

Happy, Happy 1st Birthday to you, my babycakes!

Pervert Towel

2009-05-12T08:59:00.001-05:00

As I was stepping out of the shower this morning, I reached for my big, fluffy lavender towel and I had a thought (and prepare yourself, because it wasn’t a thought any normal sort of person would have).

The thought was this: If I was a pervert and I died, I’d like to be re-incarnated as a towel.

Yeah, allow that to sink in.

Now, get over the horror of such a disgusting thought, and bear with this crazy thought process of mine…

I mean, can you think of a better life to come back to? As a pervert, naked people are kind of the point, so a towel’s life would be idyllic.

I’d hope not to come back as some threadbare hand towel, where little kids wipe their snotty noses, or that people just end up using as a rag when something gets spilled on the floor.

Being a towel in an all male dormitory would be nice to look at, but the reality of getting myself washed on any sort of regular basis would be iffy. And I can only imagine the amount of puke/urine/kraft dinner that would end up all over me.

I’d want to come back as a cozy, luxury, fluffy bath sheet ideally, because then I’d probably be in some great home where people shower on a regular basis, and where I wouldn’t get thrown on the floor, or used on the dog.

I’d hang on a beautiful hook all day, warm and cozy in a gorgeous bathroom, enjoying the view while people showered (somehow I’d avoid looking, hearing or smelling when they went to the washroom), then live out my fantasy of being pulled along someone’s body, toweling off their moist skin.

When it was time for a cleaning of my own, I’d get thrown in a warm washing machine with all of my buddies, where we could swap stories, “Did you see the way Jack’s legs looked this morning? Damn, he must have started doing lunges again at the gym…” and “I know! He looks great, and that Erin – she has got the smoothest skin…”

Then I’d be fluffed in the dryer, before being folded and put on a shelf (where the pervy stories would continue), waiting for my next turn as someone’s towel.

Yep, if I was a pervert, I’d definitely want to come back as a towel.

10 Things I Say on a Daily Basis

2009-05-07T22:33:00.003-05:00

*Most of them aren't nice.

1. Ellery, come see mommy...

2. That is the (insert words of choice here, ie: grossest dinner, funniest joke, biggest booger) in the history of the universe.

3. What are we going to have for supper?

4. F*ck.

5. I'm sorry? (and yeah, I say it as a question)

6. Oh, mommy loves you!

7. Chris, I swear to God...

8. Yeaaaaah.

9. Are you f*cking kidding me?!

10. Ellery did you poop?!

Tidbits #14.5

2009-05-05T21:38:00.004-05:00

Yesterday was my first day back at work - I'd been away for 13 months. Things are different around there, and not for the better. I'll leave it at that for the moment.

Tonight I went to Walmart in a desperate attempt to find a pair of shoes I've been looking for, for Ellery. There is a reason I need this particular pair, but it's a long story. Anyways, big surprise, they didn't have her size...and this was the 4th store I've checked.
While I was there leaned over my cart, resting my arms on the hand rest as I slowly meandered down an aisle, I noticed this guy staring at me. We were walking towards each other, and at first I was flattered since he was kind of cute. Then I remembered I was wearing an old sweatshirt, some saggy, ripped jeans, flip flops, and my hair in a sloppy, half fallen out ponytail and began to wonder why he was staring. I waited for him to look away as we got closer, but no dice.
As we were about to pass each other I realized that he was looking at my cart....no, wait...not at my cart exactly, but at where I was resting my arms. No, wait...he was looking at my chest! What?!?! I'm wearing a sweatshirt! As we passed each other, he finally looked up and winked.
I hurried past him, muttering to myself, then just happened to look down, thinking maybe I had spilled something on myself. However, once I glanced down I gasped, bolted upright, and turned back around, to where I could still see him.
Seems that my zip up sweatshirt had come a *bit unzipped...to reveal my um...assets...in a red lace bra.

Note to self: just stop going to Walmart - you always do something embarrassing in there!

My dad's retirement party was this past weekend - thanks for all the suggestions about what to get him! In the end I just gave him a card, in which I wrote how much I loved him, respected him, and appreciated him working so hard over the past 36 years to give my mom and brother and I everything we ever wanted or needed. I put it on his pillow before we left to come back to the city, and I'm sure we'll never speak of it. We're very close, but talking about that would have us both bawling.
On the party side of things, it seems not drinking for two years can turn you into quite the cheap drunk. By the end of my second drink I was toast. So I had about 7 more. It was a fun night, complete with the weaving walk home in the spring air at about one in the morning with the husband.

*I use this term loosely.

On Organ Donation and Quitting Smoking

2009-04-30T22:03:00.003-05:00

When I die I plan on being an organ donor. I decided this when I was about 10, and since I've had a license I've always been quick to sign my donor card every year. It's not like I can take this physical body with me when I go, so why not give someone else the chance at life, or at least at a longer life?

Weird though, I always wrote on my card that they could harvest anything except my eyes. I have no idea why that is, but for some reason the idea of someone cutting my eyeballs out really freaked me out. However, once my mom explained to me that they actually transplant the cornea (they leave your eyes in your head), and that they can help blind people to see?!?!? I changed my mind - quickly. Can you imagine?

Besides, I plan on being cremated, so why not take out the good stuff before I go up in flames?

One of the local radio stations is holding their annual Sick Kids pledge drive, raising money for equipment for the hospital and that kind of stuff. Of course, the stories they're telling over the air are the most heartbreaking, tear-jerking stories you've ever heard, and it's hard for me not to pull over, call, and donate our rent money on the spot.

So as I'm driving, listening and crying (of course) I decide that I need to donate. I mean you never know when something horrific like that is going to strike, or who it's going to strike.

Then this mom comes on, talking about her 6 year old son having to get a bone marrow transplant, after fighting off cancer, and having tumors removed from his head. She tells about her gallant little boy, and how after him fighting for 5 years, he died. But that it was all the nurses and doctors on the paediatric ward that made every day with him in the hospital bearable.

And then, my thoughts bounced over to smokers. Don't ask me how I got there, my brain works in crazy ways. I think it all tied in to the transplant part, but I'm not entirely sure...

ANYways, so I started thinking about how of course, anything Ellery might ever need from me, I would give her. And about how I was so glad I had quit smoking, so that if she should ever need part of my lung for a transplant, mine would be healthy. And then I started thinking, wouldn't that be a great ad campaign for parents to quit smoking? I mean really! What kind of crap would you feel like, knowing you were a match for your sick child, but that you couldn't donate a lobe of your lung because you had been sucking back nicotine for 15 years? You'd feel like total shit, and probably never forgive yourself.

So yeah, I need to scrounge up some cash and donate. Or better yet, I need to save up over the year, and make a considerable donation next year. Thoughts? Are you going to be an organ donor?

*Sorry for this being such a spastic post - I just feel very strongly about these things, and get a bit wild with my thought process...or lack thereof.

I Would If I Could, But I Can't, So I Won't

2009-04-29T09:40:00.003-05:00

Sometimes there are things I want to say on here, but I can't (or am scared to), so I don't.

There are various reasons for that. Sometimes it's because I'm worried about how it might change people's views of me. Stupid right? I mean, this is my blog, and I should be able to write whatever I damn well please! But I don't know, I guess it's because I've developed relationships with some of you, and I'm worried about how it might change if I suddenly write about how I've decided to quit my job and become a traveling dominatrix...

...which I haven't, by the way, that was just an example...probably...

Anyways, there are other times I don't write what I want to because of...I guess, legal reasons? You know, things that might get me into trouble with my employer, or about how I poured sugar into some CEO's gas tank, because his company jacked up my insurance rates...

...which I also haven't done...yet.

And at the moment, there are so many things that I want to share, but can't!!! Which is why I've been so quiet lately. Oh well, maybe I'll just share one tiny little thing with you...I've developed a serum that, when applied to the left elbow of the male species, drives them to pick up their own underwear, never leave their socks inside out, and ensure every moment of the time spent with their significant other is like the cover of a Harlequin romance novel!

And if that were really true, I'd be a kajillionaire right now. Happy Wednesday lovies!

What Do You Get Your Hero When He Retires?

2009-04-27T09:04:00.004-05:00

This coming weekend we'll be heading to the homeland for a party. Not just any party, but my dad's retirement party from CN Railway. He made his final trip on Friday, and now never has to sit by the phone and wait for them to call ever again. He's ecstatic, as am I, since now when I go home, he'll always be there. No more hoping to see him a couple hours one day because he's getting called, or because he has to go to bed because he's been up for 42 hours.

Freedom 54. Can you imagine? I'm looking more along the lines of Freedom 70 for myself.

So, now what to get him? He doesn't want me to get him anything (don't parents always say that?), and I have no idea what I'd even buy! I mean, he's got every power tool known to man, he's not into music (beyond Cat Stevens and the occasional oldies mix I make for him), he doesn't golf, hunts only on occasion, fishes about the same amount as hunting...the guy just doesn't have a lot of hobbies, since he's never had time for them before.

But I feel that for such a monumental occasion, I should give him something. Ideas? Anyone?

Just Let Me Be Cranky About This!!!

2009-04-22T23:01:00.004-05:00

*Ahem, Rock Chef and Ookami, you two are making it difficult for me to have a couple of emo kid, rant filled days here...no cocky comments today, kay? Just nice, supportive, "Oh! Poor Ali!" kinds of comments ;)

I live in Manitoba. Not necessarily the technology mecca of the universe, but not the boondocks either.

I have a Blackberry Pearl. Like about 462 thousand other people in Canada.

I hate it. It's a piece of crap.

Or it might be my cell phone company - Telus. I dunno.

The thing is, I've always been with Telus. Since I got my first cell phone when I was...20? Yeah, I'm not cool like all the 8 year-olds that are strutting through the malls in their short shorts, chatting with their bff's - I got mine when I was all old and stuff.

Anyways, with every other phone I've had with them, I was happy.

Now, however, my blackberry randomly doesn't work, quits sending me texts, shuts down its receiving capabilities entirely, etc.

And tonight, as I was padding around the house, trying to send texts, and having to keep moving an arm-length here, a toe-length there, just to get enough stupid signal strength to send them, I realized that I really and truly hate this blackberry.

Too bad I've got two years left on my contract. Boo.

You Know What I Hate?

2009-04-21T18:33:00.001-05:00

Arrogant people.

So to those of you out there that are arrogant? Listen up...

We are all awesome in our own ways.

Self-confidence is fantastic, and I wish more people had some, but no one is good at everything.

Accept the fact that you aren't always kick-ass and quit tooting your own horn.

When people notice on their own all the wonderful qualities you have, it's an amazing thing.

If you have to continually tell people how great you are? You're not really that great.

I Really Need a Spare Bedroom

2009-04-20T10:47:00.004-05:00

Last night, 12:47am, I turn off the tv, log off the computer, finish cleaning the kitchen, and hear the all too familiar sounds of a chainsaw running in my bedroom. The husband is snoring. Loudly.
I sigh, and head to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.
As I walk into the darkened bedroom, I kick the bed on the off chance this will wake him up enough to get him to roll onto his side without me having to result to yelling and/or violence. It doesn't, and I sigh again as I slip into bed beside him.
I tell myself that maybe I can fall asleep anyways. I begin thinking about other things, trying to block him out, and let my body relax. This lasts for about 30 seconds. Finally I whip my head in his direction and whisper:

Chris! Can you roll over?
snore
Baby? Roll over, kay?
snore
Can you roll over baby? I can't sleep.
snore snore
*I reach over and shake his shoulder gently.
Christopher...seriously, roll over...
grunt...snore
*I sigh loudly and kick the mattress hard with one foot.
Chris! For f*cks sake! Roll over!
incoherent mumble from him...snore
Chris!
Yeah?
Roll over! You're snoring really friggin' loud!
Okay.
He moves his head and lifts one arm above his head.
*I watch him in exasperation.
That's not rolling over, you just moved a little! You can't trick me, you know, I'm right here!
(I'm sort of laughing a little now)
snore
Christopher...I swear...if you don't roll over...
I heard you!
So roll over!
I will...
snore
*I kick the mattress harder.
What?! You only told me once!
I did not! I told you 10 times! And who cares? You still need to roll over.
snore
Don't make me stoop to kicking you, because that's where we're headed...

Then do you know what he did?

He giggled. Like a little kid.

Then reached over, slapped my ass, and said: Alright! I'm rolling over, love you baby!

My mouth fell open, and I laughed, and was out two minutes later.

Will Some Intelligent, Cute, Single Woman in Winnipeg Please Date This Guy?

2009-04-16T11:11:00.005-05:00

I absolutely have to set this post up with a precursor, otherwise people are going to get the total wrong view of me.

So...I've been doing extra freelance lately, and a lot of what I've been finding is coming from Craigslist. Now I've read other bloggers who have talked about it in the past, but until about 2 months ago, I was a virgin. Craigslist wise that is. Turns out? You can find pretty much anything you want on there!
A couple weeks ago I decided to check out the rest of the site, and I came upon the personals. Initially I was looking for stay at home moms in my area, the kind that want to set up play dates and stuff - but a little farther down the column was the rest of the ads, and one caught my eye - it said "I'm Not a Rocket Surgeon..."
So me, being the grammar geek that I am, was immediately rolling my eyes thinking "It's rocket scientist, idiot!" I figured the rest of his ad must be just as brutal, so I decided to read it for my own torture and amusement.
What I read amazed me. Not only was this dude hilarious, but he actually explained why he said rocket surgeon!!! I wish I had a single girlfriend I could set up with this guy, because even if they didn't hit it off, he is sure to be fun to hang out with!
I saved his ad to share it with you guys. And I swear, I wasn't searching the personals for myself...

Want to know about me? I wear contacts. More? Yes? Tough. You'll have to message me.

**Gonna start this off with a warning, please do not stalk me. It's happened to me before, it's not fun, and I will call the police. Thanks.**

I know what I want in life, and I'm looking for someone who knows the same. I'm sick to the teeth of dating girls, what I'm really searching for is an attractive woman, either a young professional or student, someone who's going somewhere, and with whom I can discuss such diverse topics as politics, religion, philosophy, psychology, social issues, and coffee/tea. No, that was not a typo, I truly enjoy hot beverages. Or hot beverages which have been cooled, mixed with milk or fruit juice and blended with ice. Perhaps we could discuss the above over said drinks. The ideal applicant is between the ages of 18 and 30. No older than 30 please, I'm seeking someone I could realistically build a life with should the fancy strike us. Intelligence is mandatory. I don't do drugs, and I would prefer if you don't either.

I will be attending the U of M in September. My long-term goals, at the moment, are attaining a degree in law, finding a woman whose company I enjoy, and with whom I would like to invest a substantial portion of my life in, owning a massive beach-house, and sky-diving Everest. Maybe flying a modified MiG fighter to the edge of space and seeing the curvature of the earth. I don't know, I'm not a rocket surgeon.

You know, a lot of people think that a rocket surgeon is someone who performs surgery on a rocket. This is not the case, such a person is no more than a glorified mechanic. No, the job of a rocket surgeon is far more complicated than that. A rocket surgeon is someone who performs surgery whilst aboard a rocket. The turbulence makes it that much more difficult.

I would describe myself as fashionable, adventurous, compassionate, thought not a bleeding heart, confident in myself, my choices, and my course, self-reliant, and someone who really likes East Indian food. Seriously, if you haven't tried it already, email me and that'll be date number 2. Number one is is something where we'll invest a little less in each other, so if you're a total freak I can feign remembering that I had to floss my cat or some other such nonsense and cut it short.

I suppose I should throw you some stats. I'm white, and I'm clean. That is, sexually, hygienically, and narcotically. Which I don't think is a word, but what the hell.

If you've read all this, congratulations, I'm not actually looking. Just kidding. Email me a tidbit about yourself, and a picture. You know, so that I can confirm that you're not an eighty year old homosexual named Timmy. Because that would make relations with my neighbor really awkward. I'll reciprocate. Deal? Deal. Oh, and don't even think about asking me to sign up for any dating websites.

P.S. Brownie points if you can tell me what defenestrate means without looking it up. Double brownie points if you send me money ;) just kidding.

Is that not the best personal ad ever?

Mish Mash #47.5

2009-04-15T10:25:00.003-05:00

Easter was great. Ellery looked adorable. Only had to go to church once. Family was good. Dinner was good. Both sets of grandparent spoiled Miss E - which is good, because I got her this tiny set of Little Tikes people that cost $2.50 - not exactly a fortune, is it?

Our fridge died last week, which resulted in the loss of about $250 worth of groceries. So yesterday when we got back to the city, I made a dash to the grocery store because we literally had nothing to eat. While I was standing in line to pay, Gigi called me. I told her what I was doing and explained that our fridge had died, and that we had been out of town over the weekend, and that now I was having to buy groceries galore.
Then I heard Gigi say "I'm so sorry Ali. Sorry to hear about your friend..." I was confused for a sec, before I started to laugh. "No, our fridge died!!! Not our friend!" The teenage checkout boy started to laugh while I was explaining to Gigi that we had been out of town for Easter, not for a funeral.
Poor Gigi. I'm sorry for being Slurry McMumblepants!!!

In under a month my baby girl will turn one. I'm both excited and on the verge of tears just thinking about it. Her latest thing? Talking. She says go, good, duck, and hi, and she tries very hard to say "light", though right now it's just coming out as "ight".

It's supposed to get up to 18 degrees today. In honour of that, I'm wearing my new green sundress and a pair of flip flops around the house. The fact that it's freezing in here isn't deterring me at all. Dammit, I see the sun outside, and there is barely any snow!!! I'm wearing this dress if I catch pneumonia!

Went to visit my friend Rachel and her four kiddies on Monday - haven't seen them in months! The kids were in and out of the house all day, except for the youngest, Alia, so I didn't get to take many pictures. E really took to the dog though, following him around the house and squealing at him. It was only too close for comfort when he licked her.

Happy Birthday, Someone Save Me, and Easter?

2009-04-10T15:28:00.003-05:00

First things first - I have to wish my husband a Happy 31st Birthday. He's spending the day at work today, while E and I are hanging out at home, making him dinner and wrapping presents. I even let her have at some of the wrapping paper with her own marker - and I think we may have a little artist on our hands.
But husband, even though you're away from us, we hope you're having a great day anyways. Love you like crazy.

Someone save me...from my to-do list. It's extensive. Like 35 items kind of extensive. And Ellery is a cling-monster. And I have freelance with pretty much the tightest deadline in the history of the universe. And we're leaving for the land of dial-up first thing in the morning. I don't even know if my parents have Word on their computer...yeah, please, save me.

Easter?!?!? How the hell did it already get to be Easter? I am so not mentally prepared for the 14 thousand church services I will have to attend over the weekend, being that I am Catholic. Ah well, it gives me a chance to show off the babycakes :)

Hope you all have a great weekend - Happy Easter to all!

Happy Birthday...To Me? Maybe? Possibly? Husband? Are You Reading This?

2009-04-08T22:36:00.000-05:00

I love my family. I really do. And by family I'm referring to my husband and daughter. I love the rest too - but this really isn't about them, since we don't live together.

Some of you may remember me mentioning a time or two - okay, who am I kidding...I mention it every second day - that my husband snores. But he does. Incessantly.

And my daughter, who is generally a pretty good sleeper, does wake up a few times a night. She usually just requires someone to locate her soother, and goes right back to sleep, but still - as anyone who is a crappy sleeper knows, waking up for any reason is still disruptive.

But every month or so, she seems to be having some sort of night terrors. Waking up scared out of her wits, and screaming bloody murder like the devil himself is after her. And then she doesn't want to be left alone in her room - and if she does fall asleep, she wakes up every 20 minutes, and we do the whole dance all over again. Once she's woken up like that one night, it takes about 3 more to get her back on track.

Essentially what I'm trying to get at here, is that I need sleep. Between the husband snoring, and the baby waking up, I am seriously lacking in the slumber department. While thinking about it the other day, I realized that I haven't had a full night's sleep since before I was pregnant, which is going on two years now. That is one long ass time not to sleep through the night.

A while ago I started joking with the husband that maybe I should get a hotel room one night, just so that I can sleep - he didn't seem as excited about the idea as I was.

But I have to admit, the more I think about it, the more appealing it sounds. I just want a nice big bed, perhaps a jacuzzi tub (which I would totally be willing to forgo), and a night all to myself, where I don't have to worry about anyone but me. Just to be able to snuggle down in those comfy blankets, with just my face peeking out, and to go to bed at about 8pm after a nice long, hot bath, and sleep till 8 the next morning. Ooooooooh, heaven.

Please, no one be jealous of my mad Photoshop skills. You too, can learn how to create the illusion of a luxurious pillow behind your head. After years and years of practice.
Also - I don't know what's up with my hair-do in this picture. It seems that the luxurious pillow has decided to give me a pixie cut. Perhaps the pillow is on to something...

Gimme Gimme Always Gets

2009-04-07T11:01:00.002-05:00

At least, when it comes to me standing at a till it does.

*sigh*

The season has started (not that I think it ever truly goes away) when every store I go into has some cause they are raising money for. You know the scenario....you go up to pay, are there minding your business, debit card in hand, cell phone buzzing in your pocket, applying lip balm while you listen to the cashier ask you if you found everything you were looking for, and then they drop the bomb: Would you care to make a donation to the Canadian Cancer Society/ Easter Seals/ Arthritis Society/ Alzheimer's Fund/ Connie's Bachelorette Party/ Help Kevin Pay For the Dermatologist Fund?

Or, my favourite, any kind of Literacy Fund, which I can never, ever say no to.

The truth is, I want to help everyone, and I do. I always say sure, donate 2 bucks, 3 bucks, 5 bucks, whatever - because I think all of those causes deserve the cash. Except maybe Connie - I don't really give a shit about her bachelorette extravaganza.

I always feel compelled to donate. Always. Once, last summer, I said "Um, not today," and I felt so guilty about it that I think I gave 10 bucks the next time I went. And I felt like everyone from the cashier to the 5 people in line behind me were thinking about what a horrid person I was for saying no.

But you know what? Other people say no all the time!!!! I don't know how they do it - it boggles my mind. Does anyone else have this dilemma? I find that if I say no to some and yes to others, I'm playing favourites, when really, the cancer cause is just as important as the Alzheimer's one.

Ah well, unless you're Connie, you can be sure I'll be ponying up at the till for your cause.

I'm Surprised Anyone Comes Around Here Anymore

2009-03-31T20:44:00.003-05:00

I admit it - my blogging has been the complete shits lately. And I have absolutely no excuse, except for the fact that...I'm lazy?

Well not totally lazy. I seem to be tired a lot these days. And to have a headache a lot. And over the past couple weeks I've had this burning in my stomach, and a lump in it that never seems to go away. I asked the husband the other day if he thought I could have an ulcer, and he kind of dismissed it. Then tonight when I was complaining about it, he said "Hmm, I wonder if you have an ulcer?"

Sheesh. Do you think?

I don't really think I do, maybe I'm just becoming a hypochondriac?

Anyways, there are many people in the world with far worse problems than my burning stomach.

So what's new? Not a whole hell of a lot. I think I forgot to ever mention that Ellery is crawling, and pulling herself up, and walking along the furniture, and walking while holding our hands, and pointing at everything and saying "Da?" and then waiting for an answer as to what it is. She has two teeth, claps, waves bye (when she feels like it), dances, knows husband and I by name, loves to be sung to, is a climber, and has the best grin ever.

My return to work is coming up fast. I've got some issues with it. Let's not discuss it.

Husband is good - seems like he's always working lately - but that could be because he's been working some steady nights, so it seems like he's always either gone, or in bed. At least he's back on days for awhile.

Friend wise - I've been a bit of a slacker girl. You know how sometimes when you don't talk to someone for a long time, but you've got intentions to, then it never happens, and then it seems like too much time has passed? Yeah, I'm there with a few of my friends. But last week I got in touch with them all. And they all got back to me and said "Let's get together!" and then I dropped the ball. Because I've been feeling so tired. Stupid.

*Note to self - must stop being lazy with friends and blogging.

Mkay, since I'm sitting here whining about being tired, I should do something about it and go to bed...even though it's only 9pm...sigh...well I'm almost 29!!! I'm getting up there!

Hehe. Love you guys.

I'm Still Around

2009-03-27T10:33:00.003-05:00

Have just been working like mad on a few things this week, and barely able to string coherent sentences together for that, let alone on here!

Today is an anxious day for me - in a good way - I hope. Will tell all as soon as possible.

For today though? Can you just send me some love and luck?

Thanks, lovies!

Ali
xo

Changing the Rules

2009-03-23T00:10:00.004-05:00

I don't know about anyone else, but I think there are just some things that are meant to be sacred. Things that you've grown up with your whole life, things that have been the same since you were a child, things that maybe your parents did, that always remain the same.

For me there are quite a few of those things, for instance: ketchup has to be Heinz brand, on Christmas Eve you get to open one gift, birthday cards that arrive before your birthday are saved to be opened on the actual day, there's only one fluorescent cheese in a jar that should be consumed, and that's Cheez Whiz - and other things like that.

Another one of those things is that Crest toothpaste is the only one used for the brushing of one's teeth. And it's not all the wild, crazy, new-fangled flavours, either - it's the regular old light blue paste, that has been around since Jesus was a boy.

When the husband and I moved in together, this was an issue. You see...he was raised a Colgate kid. With me being a Crest child, this became somewhat of a problem the first few times we had to buy toothpaste. There was a lot of me foot-stomping, and huffing, and hissing "I don't really care what you buy, but I will be brushing my teeth with Crest!"

Husband, smart man that he is, finally relented, rather than fight a losing battle, and has been brushing his teeth with Crest ever since. In the nine or so years since then, I may have wavered and bought the sparkly winter mint, or even gone so wild as to buy the whitening version, but it's always been Crest.

Until a couple months ago.

We really needed toothpaste, we were in a hurry, Colgate was on sale, and husband smooth talked me by showing me the shiny package that boasted about the breath-freshening strips inside the toothpaste, and then clinched the deal by letting me know the toothpaste was pink.

I rolled my eyes, and said that just this once, I would bend on my Crest rule. And I have to admit...I liked the Colgate. It really was pink, the breath strips looked all sparkly, and my breath smelled oh-so-fresh - so what was not to like? I was hit with a few pangs of guilt while using the Colgate, but I soldiered through them.

Last week though, we ran out of toothpaste again. Since husband's dentist had recently told him he should switch to Sensodyne, I was free to get what I wanted. So what did I do? I went back to Crest of course! I bought a huge tube of the Crest Pro-Health Clean Mint, and felt at peace.

However...now how do I put this delicately...well...it tasted like ass.

Like ass dipped in fluoride, to be more precise.

And the next day I threw that Crest in the garbage and went out and bought myself two new tubes of sparkly, pink Colgate.

I guess sometimes it is okay to change the rules - but nobody tell my husband that...

And That's a Wrap on Another St. Patrick's Day

2009-03-18T00:51:00.006-05:00

The husband and I went to bed two hours ago because I was exhausted. Apparently he felt this little "activity" we could do would help me fall asleep. So much for me falling asleep - he's in there snoring, and I'm wide awake! Figures.

Ah well, this just gives me a chance to share how we spent our St. Patty's Day - at the zoo! I don't think we've been since Ellery was born, and she was hilarious, babbling away to all the animals.

While I was yelling lines from Napoleon Dynamite, trying to get the snotty llama to come over, this little donkey wandered over to me instead. He even put his head against the fence and let me pet him.

One of the scary, staring birds in the birdie hothouse.

Our zoo has one of those rooms where you can go in and see the birds above water, then watch them dive. This little mallard was really quick, but I finally caught him diving.

Ellery and the husband looking way up - watching the monkeys swinging around.

There were two that wrestled the whole time we were there - Ellery just screamed at them in delight, occasionally letting out a belly laugh.

The husband and I, enjoying the beautiful day.

Ellery and I decided to be true to our roots, and show off our Irish style.

Then is was bath time for her - where she spent a few minutes chatting up "our baby" in the bathroom mirror.

It was a beautiful day!

More Titillating Talks

2009-03-16T21:15:00.003-05:00

*After sitting in front of the computer for 45 minutes, racking my brain for a blog idea (and being a total loser and checking out the Perez Hilton website, which I have never done before, and never will again, yuck!), I finally turn to the husband for help.

What can I blog about?
Blog abouuuuuuuut....

*I start eye rolling right away.

Blog about...how great I am.
Hahahahahahaha! Yeah. No.
Blog about...blog about this conversation.
I can't. I just did one of those.
Blog abouuuuuuuut...
Quit saying "blog about!"
Blog abouuuuuuuut...
I will come over there and kick you right in the shin!
I have no ideas, you're asking the wrong person!

*I keep staring at him, my eyebrows raised expectantly. He finally looks away from his playstation game long enough to notice.

Blog abouuuuuut...

*I huff exasperatedly.

Blog as if it's 10 years in the future.
Nooooooo! That's gay!
F*ck it. I give up...I swear to God Alison...
Fine! Geez...

*A few moments go by while I type all that.

I'd kick you, you know.
You'd kick me?
Yeah, I would.
But?
Well I can't reach you from here.
But if I was over there you'd kick me good and hard?
Yep. Are you coming?
Uh huh, in just a sec.

*In case anyone is worried - this is often how we talk to each other. There are plenty of threats of violence (usually from me), but it's all love - I promise.

An Inexplicable Dislike

2009-03-15T21:46:00.001-05:00

I don't know why, but I have a crazy aversion to short, dark-haired, balding actors. Every time I see one of them on tv or in a movie, I am suddenly cranky and almost angry towards them. I wish I knew why, because it's certainly not a rational disdain, but for some reason I can't determine the reasoning behind it.

If I were to run into an average, non-famous man that looked like one of these guys, I'd be fine. For some reason it's just actors that fit this description that bother me so much...weird, I know.

Married Conversation

2009-03-11T17:55:00.000-05:00

Conversation between the husband and I as we were watching Man vs. Wild last night:

Me: I have to tell you...
Husband: Yeah?
Me: I have a little bit of a crush on Bear Grylls.
Husband: Yeah.
Me: Just a little one though.
Husband: Yeah, me too.
Me: Really? You have a crush on him?
Husband: Well he's a cool guy - I'd like to be friends with him.
Me: Uh, yeah, me too. Just friends.

Then 20 minutes later just as Bear finishes eating a live spider the size of his hand, and commenting about how when he bit into it, he thinks he bit the ass end, since there was a lot of wetness.

Me: I think I just lost a bit of my crush.
Husband: Me too.

I Haven't Posted Pics of E In A Long Time!!

2009-03-10T22:58:00.002-05:00

This was at our house, in the afternoon sunlight. People often comment on her hair, saying it's so awesome, as if I style it to stand straight up...but I'm telling you, it does that all on its own.

Last time we went to visit back in Ontario, Ellery took a liking to my dad's coffee cup. He brought her a matching one to play with...you may recognize it from this post. I was actually all teary when he gave it to her...I'm such a wimp.

This was at my parent's house - right after she pulled herself up for only the second time.

She was so proud of herself for getting up there all on her own.

One of her favourite things is when I sit down on the floor with a stack of fliers, or the newspaper, and let her "help" me find deals. She never puts anything in her mouth, and rolls around making a mess, separating all the pages and dragging them around the room. And the best part? If I stack them all up again, she'll start all over, like it's a new toy.

This was taken on her 9 month birthday - the day we put her in a "big-girl" carseat. She was just getting too heavy to lug all over in an infant seat.

And one of my favourite pictures. Ellery and my dad, right after he went and got her up from a nap. They stayed like this, with their heads together for about 20 minutes - my dad singing softly to her, and her just watching his face. Priceless.

Somebody Pour Me a Drink!

2009-03-06T08:04:00.000-06:00

A celebratory one that is!

Ladies and Gentlemen, I have slain my dragon. Abolished the bane of my existence. Exercised the demons, so to speak. Oh yes, I have cleaned off my kitchen table.

I know, I can barely believe it myself. But I have proof!
Please pay no attention to the fact that I have hideously chipped nail polish, haven't brushed my hair, am flashing a terribly nerdy thumbs up, and the fact that it took me somewhere around 8 months to do it, and allow me to revel in the fact that it's done! Yay me!

Now for Reggie, who promised to clean out a part of his garage, equivalent to that of the size of my table, once I actually did it - it's 72" long, 31" wide, and 30" tall. Have fun!

Stay or Go?

2009-03-05T08:37:00.005-06:00

Since I moved out of my parents' house when I was 18, I've moved around quite a bit. Three different provinces, 3 different cities, 1 town, and 6 different actual residences. What can I say? I bore easily.

Anyways, one thing I have maintained since I was about 14 years old, was that I did not want to end up living in Winnipeg, Manitoba. So guess where I live? Yep, you guessed it. Winnipeg.

When we first decided to move here from Calgary it was for Chris to go to school. We decided we'd move here, he would go to school, graduate, and we'd either move back to Calgary, or somewhere else completely. Eight years later, we're still here.

It's not that there is anything wrong with Winnipeg, it's just that...I don't know, it's so close to home? This was the city where people from my hometown would all come for a weekend - to shop, go out, have an adventure - you know, everyone came here. So I decided that I wanted to live somewhere completely different, where not everyone I knew ended up.

Husband and I went through a phase where we wanted to live in Hawaii. One where we wanted to live back in North Bay, where I went to college. One where we wanted to live in Nassau, Bahamas, where Monica lives. And currently we're on an England kick. Which has even gone so far as both of us looking for jobs online - and holy smokes! Are there ever a lot of sweet jobs for editors and writers over there!

But us moving always comes down to family. We're both extremely close to our families, which is one of the few things that makes living in Winnipeg really great. And now that Ellery is here, I'm sure our parents would be pretty upset if we packed up and moved her away from them.

But therein lies my dilemma. If we stay here to be close to them, so they can watch her grow up, then we're not entirely happy. And then, once she's grown up, our parents are older, and are we going to want to be moving away then? When they might need us around, to help them out?

I realize this sounds extremely selfish, but if we stay it's almost as though we're living our lives for other people. I'm not sure what the right decision is...

Sugarwha?

2009-03-02T10:15:00.000-06:00

I like coffee and tea. I also like sugar. A lot. So much so, that some people question if I'm going to have coffee or tea in my sugar. I'm a sugar whore, what can I say?

As a result of this whorishness (and just fyi, husband has a sugar fixation too), we go through a lot of sugar at our house.

So last week I was out, and made a pit stop at one of my least favourite shopping places (I've wrote about this place before...I'll just call it The-Hell-Which-Shall-Not-Be-Named) and after I stocked up on the essentials - diapers, wipes, baby food, tp - my brain sent me a jolt that said "Suuuuuuuuuuuugaaaaarrrrrrrrrrrrr!" so I cranked the cart around for the baking aisle.

Imagine my surprise when I got home and went to fill my sugar canister, when I discovered that instead of sugar, I had some sort of *cocaine reminiscent, artificial sweetener! It may have been white, and it make have been slightly sweet, but the look and texture of this stuff was pure cocaine.
On the left is the "sugar" I got from The-Hell-Which-Shall-Not-Be-Named, and on the right is proper sugar, which I went out to buy the next morning.

I swear, if I would have used the cocaine sugar, I would have surely turned into this kind of mommy within a week.

*Obviously this wasn't really cocaine sugar, keep your pants on Hell store.

Friday AGAIN?!?! Where is time going?

2009-02-27T10:31:00.004-06:00

I don't know what's going on, but it seems like every time I wake up, it's Friday! Hmm, could I be living in my very own Groundhog Day?

Ah, well, no matter - at least every Friday seems different.

I don't have much to report, just a lot of things on my mind...

Ellery has started crawling at full tilt, which resulted in the purchase of a baby gate to keep her out of the kitchen. Today she crawled to me for the first time so that I could pick her up - I was giddy with happiness.

I really need to get some pictures developed - it's been about 5 months since the last time. Anyone got about 200 bucks they can spot me?

I'm really starting to wonder where my life is going professionally. I've always got all these ideas for things I could do, either on the side, or instead of my current job, but then I never know how to go about starting any of them.

For someone that's supposed to be "up" on news, I sometimes feel bad for the things I don't know about. For example, the recession that's hitting everyone so hard, and the bailouts that people are either so for, or against? The entire situation pisses me off so much, that I can't stand to hear about it any more. I have very strong opinions about it, so I tend to block the news about it out, just to keep myself calm.

I need about $600 right now to send people things. So many people I know are going through terrible things right now, and I want to send them all care packages just to let them know I'm thinking about them, and that I love them.

My dining room table is still a disaster area. I know, it's not surprising, but I really need some ideas on how to motivate myself to clean it. Any other room in my house, and any other chore that needs to be done, I do. It's almost as though the table is my personal kryptonite, and try as I might, I can't build up any sort of immunity against it.

I guess when I add up how much money I said I needed from the points above, it totals $800. If anyone wants to stroke me a cheque for that, I'll send you a care package as thanks ;)

Happy Friday!

If I Could Say What I Really Wanted To...

2009-02-25T10:33:00.000-06:00

Stealing this from several blogs - talk about therapeutic! And maybe a little bitchy.

1. Get over yourself. For someone who claims to have no self confidence, you're pretty into bragging about how great you are.

2. Leave him alone. He loves you, he'd do anything for you - why do you continually have to bitch and nag at him? When he's gone you'll finally realize what you have, but it will be too late.

3. You have to be one of the dumbest and most annoying people on the face of the earth. I don't know how anyone puts up with you. My eyes nearly roll out of my head when I hear about some of the dumb things you do.

4. You want the two of us to be close - at least, you used to tell me that. But your constant nagging, and the way you make me feel like everything I do is wrong, makes me seriously wonder if that will ever happen.

5. You are great at your job, and honestly one of the best cashiers I've ever had. I always hope to get you when I'm in line at Safeway. But I'm sorry for the way people act towards you when they realize you're deaf.

6. You have hideous hair, your eyes scare me to no end, and I can't believe you're not dead yet from how many cigarettes you smoke in a day. Yellow nails and teeth are not sexy.

7. What is wrong with you? She is the best thing in your life and she's slipping away! Get your shit together, put down your drink, get on a plane, and go and tell her you can't live without her!

8. Put on a bra. Your boobs are not supposed to look like they grow out of your elbows.

9. I still can't believe that you believe in the "pull out" method - you're 30 years old. I also can't believe you've never worried about catching an STD. I explained it all to like you were a 14 year old in health class and you still didn't get it. I meant it when I said don't come crying to me when something bad happens.

10. You really need to get a new headshot. In the one you use for everything, you look like an aging vampire with purple lips! You're much more attractive than that in real life.

11. I believe in God too, and it's wonderful to be so thankful. However, I don't think it's necessary to point up and close your eyes, saying "It's all because of Him. We need to thank Him," every time you find a penny in the street, or you remember to switch the laundry.

Holy Sh*t! It's Friday?

2009-02-19T23:51:00.004-06:00

Or at least - by the time you read this it will be - it's 11:50pm on Thursday night right now.

Anyways, I don't know where this week went - all I know is that it was a good week.

Spent time with Ellery, the husband, friends. Got funny emails from Reggie, Rock Chef, and James. Found out what happened to Sitting in Silence (which wasn't good, but at least now I know she's okay - love you Dan!!!). Ate every meal I was supposed to except breakfast this morning. Realized that I have, in fact, gotten my hair past that growing out stage where I want to hack it all off, and have decided to embrace the 4 inches that hang below my shoulders. Got my ass out of bed at 6am to run, despite the -21 (plus windchill) weather. Made a whackload of playlists for my ipod touch, and got some "super cool" artwork for cover art.

Tomorrow (or today - whatever - Friday) we're heading home to Ontario to spend the weekend. We'll spend the day with husband's family tomorrow (or today - whatever - Friday), then Saturday we're going to have a big brunch/lunch/dinner (we haven't decided what yet) with my mom's family, since apparently they're all whining about not seeing Ellery since Christmas.

I'm not sure yet, but my dad had decided that Ellery and I should stay there all next week, while Chris comes back to work, and that he'll bring us back to the city on the 27th. He was quite insistent - but as much as I love my family, I might go a bit crazy being out of the city for a week. There's no wifi, my cell only works if I pay the crazy rates for the American towers, and I can't even check my voicemail when I'm there!

*gasp* Wait. Have I finally gone city? Say it isn't so!!!

Hmm, perhaps I should stay there for the week....I could go shooting, drag out the dirtbikes, go sliding at the creek, ride in the back of a pickup...gotta get back to my country girl ways!

Anyways, have a great weekend, and if I don't catch you next week, hope it's great too!

Dear Manager of the Place Where I Live,

2009-02-16T21:26:00.001-06:00

My husband and I have been living here for going on five years now. We are never late with the rent, we're quiet, we keep to ourselves, and we rarely complain. Only to pay our rent, or to report something needing repair, do we ever show our face in the office.

I appreciate the fact that when our dishwasher broke, you had a new one in the next day. It's also great how when something needs to be fixed, there is usually a guy here within 24 hours. But I have to tell you, sometimes your managerial skills (and the sober face on that bitch who runs the front office) are almost more than I can take.

For instance, when we started asking you when I was pregnant if we could get new carpet in our apartment, it wasn't just for fun. There was a baby on the way, who would surely be rolling around on this 30 year old carpet, and it would have been nice to have something that wasn't nasty, trampled down, vanilla shag.

When you informed us that it simply wasn't going to happen because "There are people that have lived here for 18 years that still don't have new carpet," we decided to suck it up, because we like it here.

We decided that if we could have it professionally cleaned, all would be well. However, that baby is now 9 months old, and you have yet to clean the carpets. When my husband called the other day to mention it yet again, it wasn't very encouraging to hear "That didn't get done? Huh...I'll have to check into that..."

It's been a year and a half asshole, either hire someone else to clean them, or send that bitchy secretary over and I'll put her to work.

When our washing machine started leaking water it took two days for someone to come check into it. By then the water had been cleaned up, and I obviously hadn't done any more laundry, for fear of more water leaking. So when the repair guy said "I don't see any water anywhere," he's lucky I didn't take a wrench to his head.

He was really great about flipping open the lid of the washer and looking inside, then getting down on the ground and looking underneath it (which by the way, I also did, with no training), but when he looked at me and said "Well, it doesn't seem to be leaking now," it was all I could do not to clobber him.

I didn't appreciate the fact that it took two more visits and me hissing at the repair guy "Look, I don't really care if you believe me or not, this thing is leaking water when it runs, so you better figure out how to fix it!" and then my husband finally talking to him for you to take it seriously. I'm a not a dumb girl, and I certainly didn't hallucinate the water.

And now our oven is on the fritz. In about half the time it's supposed to take for something to cook, food is now scorching on the outside, and staying raw in the middle. We've called about this, and two weeks ago you did send someone over. But did you have to send over a 6'5" behemoth, mute, caveman that had my daughter and I cowering?

He messed around in the kitchen for 15 minutes, banging things around and grunting, then walked over to the door and said "There" before slamming it behind him.

Well guess what? It's still not working.

Now it's been over a week since we told you once again that it wasn't working properly, and when we called to remind you about it on Friday you said "He might have been there again, I don't know. Or he might come today, but don't count on it."

Well sir, it's Monday night. Today was a holiday, so I understand Goliath not showing up, but so help me - if he doesn't show up and fix this oven tomorrow...well, let's just say I'll be holding him ransom.

Yours in rental, Ali

My Convo With "Connie"

2009-02-13T07:49:00.000-06:00

I'm gonna do the sum up for this in as few words as possible - which will be difficult for me - perhaps point form would be best.

-Husband likes zombies
-He picked out a new zombie book he wants
-What's more romantic than a zombie book on Valentine's Day?
-Last night I decided to go track it down for him

My conversation with an employee at Chapter's follows.
And from here on in, I will refer to said employee as: Desperate-for-something-other-to-do-than-line-up-the-dictionaries-Needs-to-find-a-more-challenging-job-Desperately-needs-someone-to-help-her-apply-eyeliner-without-a-Crayola-marker - Or Connie, for short.

Me: Excuse me, but can you tell me where I might find a book about zombies?
Connie: Oh, I can help you look for one!
Me: Well I actually know which one I'm looking for, I just don't know what section I should be looking in...
Connie: Well come over here! We can look them up for you!
Me: Well it's just the one book - I know the title and authors name already.
Connie: Well let's just see what we get when we type in "zombies" here!
Me: But I have the authors name...can't we just search for him?
Connie: Oh, it's more fun to see what comes up with a big search!
Me: Uh...

Connie begins scrolling through the 1126 results that have come up under "zombies".

Connie: Oooh, there's a lot of books about zombies!
Me: Yes, but I really just need this particular one.
Connie: Alriiiight (she sounds almost defeated), we'll try that.

I hand her the paper with the title and author on it, because there is no way in hell I can pronounce this guys last name.

Connie: Wow! That looks German! Don't you think that looks German? Wow!
Me: I suppose...
Connie: I wonder if many German people write zombie books?
Me: I have no idea.
Connie: Nope! We don't have that book! Isn't that weird?
Me: Weird? Um, I guess - but maybe it's just a new book or something?
Connie: Come with me, we'll check our other system.
Me: (starting to get a little wary of Connie and her eyeliner by this point) Okay...

She sprints over to a desk nearby and starts typing madly into a system that I'm sure was around when Jesus was a boy.

Connie: Okay, let's see...

I slowly walk over to the desk and lean on one elbow.

Connie: Okay, I'm just gonna punch this info in here again...
Me: Kay.
Connie: Uh huh, okay...
Connie: Yep.
Connie: Okay, not there.
Connie: Hmm, alright, let's try this.
Connie: Nope, not there.
Connie: Okay, how about? Hmm, okay, hmm.
Connie: Nope! What the heck?
Connie: Oh, we should try this too.

I put my other elbow up on the desk and lower my face down into my hands, squishing my cheeks.

Connie: Oh! I should try this!
Me: Really, it's okay. If you don't have it it's no problem...
Connie: Well I'm just going to check a few more things.

At this point I'm wondering if Chapter's has some sort of parallel universe where they keep other books, because Connie is searching a hell of a lot of places by the sounds of things.

Connie: I just want to try this quick, then I'll show you what comes up on the screen.

I'm wondering if maybe she found it at another location? That would be okay - I'd have no problem going to get it.

Connie: Okay, nope, not there either. Here, look at this!

She turns her ancient screen towards me to show me that she has Googled the authors name and the title of the book. I am not shitting you. Why she figured she was helping me out by googling it was beyond me. I know what I'm looking for - all I want to know is if you have this particular book in this particular location!

Me: See, uh, I already know what I'm looking for right? So googling it isn't really going to help - I just need to know if...
Connie: Oh!!!! I know! Let me try this!
Me: Really, I should just go...
Connie: No! Wait right there! This will be great!

At this point I can feel my cheeks getting red, as I'm nearing that point where I'm going to have a little freak out on Connie - if the husband would have been there, this is about the time he would have started to back away and pretend we weren't together.

Me: Listen. I have had...
Connie: Here it is!!! Look at all these!

She whips the screen around again to show me that she had typed "list of zombie books" into Wikipedia. And up has come - get this - an entire list of authors who have written zombie books! (Please note my sarcasm here)

Connie: Isn't that great?!?!

At this point I realize how proud she is of being able to "help me" by giving me an entire list of zombie book authors, since she wasn't able to locate the actual book I wanted. She was actually beaming at me in excitement.

Me: (smiling in spite of myself) Wow, would you look at that? So many books to choose from!
Connie: And now you can go home, pull up this list for your husband, and have him pick out a new book!
Me: That is just...great. Thank you so much for all your help Connie...
Connie: Wait! I'll just jot down this url for you!
Me: Uh, I can probably just type "list of zombie books" into Wikipedia and find it...
Connie: Oh, I'll just write it quick, give me one sec!

Two minutes later she handed me a piece of paper with the longest url I've ever seen - I'd have to be a mathematician to get all the backslashes and percent signs right.

Me: Thank you so much! You have just been so helpful!
Connie: It's a pleasure! And if he picks another one I can help you find it!

Then I started backing away, towards the escalator, and when my feet hit those stairs I ran.

On The Lam

2009-02-12T09:59:00.004-06:00

I've always liked the line "on the lam" - and in fact, since the day I learned what it meant, I've actually wanted to be on the lam.

From what exactly, I'm not sure. I just like the idea of someone saying "Hey, I haven't seen Ali in ages, do you know where she's been?" and then to have someone else say "I heard she's on the lam - she must have done something crazy!"

The idea of being an extremely powerful woman appeals to me a great deal. You know, someone that walks around in power suits and kick ass heels and has everyone call them Ms. Quicksilver? My hair would always be pulled back at work, and I'd also wear glasses, but there would always be that hint that I could let my hair down and be a really sexy wild child. I'd like to have a big, huge office building downtown, tall enough that it towers over every other phallic reminiscent building.

I don't know what my job would be exactly, but it would be important. And though I would be mainly on the super-hero side of things, I'd also have a bad streak - nothing to actually hurt people, but bad just for the sake of my own entertainment.

This bad streak though, is what would cause me to have to go on the lam in the first place.

But being on the lam would actually be pretty sweet - I'd use my jet to take off to my private island where no one can get me, then continue working via email and phone calls to my most trusted employee and friend. That would keep me in the money, keep my business going, and keep me powerful - but all while living in the lap of luxury.

Hmm, if I disappear for awhile, you can all safely assume that I have in fact, gone on the lam. But not to worry - I'll send my jet around to pick you up anytime you need a vacation.

Sometimes You Just Need to Throw in the Towel

2009-02-10T09:18:00.003-06:00

I'll admit, there are times when I can be a bit nit-picky when it comes to things my husband does that drive me bat shit crazy. I know many people will say "But he's a man! That's what they do!", as if that's some sort of excuse, but as far as I'm concerned, it's not. People are people, and if I can do something, so can you.
That's not to say I don't have my annoying quirks and lackadaisical attitudes about things, but I try to keep it in check.
ANYways, in recent months I've come to realize that there are just some things I can't make him smarten up about, regardless of how much I whine, yell, ask, beg, pout or cry about them. And it's quickly becoming apparent that Ellery is more than just a replica of him in the looks department.

1. Husband is physically incapable of hanging his coat in the hall closet. The back of a dining room chair apparently works just as well.

2. Ellery doesn't give a rats ass that she shouldn't be touching the playstation. In fact, she gives me that "And what are you gonna do about it?" look, every time I turn around and say "Ellery! No!"

3. It's just a fact of life that I'll wash the dishes and clean up, then husband will stroll into the kitchen with his dishes from work the day before and drop them on the counter.

4. It doesn't matter that there are 400 toys in the bathtub, Ellery just wants to stand up and play with the strings on my hoodie.

5. Husband will not tie up the kitchen garbage bag and replace it with a new one, no matter how high and teetering it gets.

6. Nine times out of ten, it is up to me to clean the Forman Grill, otherwise it just won't get done.

7. When Ellery decides to steamroll her way across the living room, she's not stopping for toys that might hurt her - just get them out of her way.

Despite these things though, the husband is great, and can be very helpful when he's so inclined, hehe. Ellery, though? The girl is adorable, and hilarious...but stubborn! Now I wonder where she gets that from...

You Know What's Dumb?

2009-02-06T09:28:00.003-06:00

Dumb is medicine cabinets being in people's washrooms.

I mean, if you really think about it - which I have, and yes, I admit this makes me a weird thinker - a washroom is pretty much the worst place you could store medication.

For instance, Ellery's baby tylenol says: Store at 15 - 30 degrees Celsius.
Husband has Nasonex for his nose, which says: Store at 2 - 25 degrees Celsius. Keep away from bright light.
And the iron tablets I have (which aren't even actually a medicine) say: Keep at room temperature in dark dry place.

Now, maybe it's just my bathroom, but I would think that would be the least consistent room for temperature and light.

During the night it's cool and dark - ideal for medication storing purposes. But during the day? The heat gets cranked whenever one of us is having a shower, or Ellery needs a bath. The lights in there are very bright, giving off a lot of heat of their own - and they're also located directly above the mirrors, which double as our medicine cabinet. Every time the shower is on there is crazy condensation and humidity in there. Factors like changing temperatures can actually affect the effects of medication!

All in all, it's a pretty awful choice for storage of medicine.

I now keep all my medication either in my bedroom, or in a dark cabinet in my kitchen, away from the stove, fridge and dishwasher, to avoid the heat.

And that is all for this public service announcement.

Happy Friday, and happy weekend relocation of all your meds!

To Have That Imagination Again...

2009-02-04T13:19:00.000-06:00

The husband's post yesterday made me remember back to my childhood and do a little reminiscing about the things I used to do...

Before my parents got gas heat in their house, we used to have a huge wood furnace in the basement that I remember someone always having to fill with wood. This thing was huge, and noisy. I remember during the night, it would be so quiet in the house, and then I would hear the furnace kick in and it would seem so loud, like huge bangs of metal for some reason. I always thought this was the Tin man from the Wizard of Oz coming up the stairs to get me.

When I was old enough to get up on my own in the mornings, I would always eat the same thing. I would get a juice box and cut several pieces of cheddar cheese, then head into the living room to watch tv. I would drink the juice box, then poke the cheese with the straw, until it was full of cheese. Then I'd put it in my mouth, and slide my teeth down the straw, forcing all the cheese out. Then I'd do it all over again. I'd leave the little bits of cheese that I couldn't get into the straw on my plate.

My dad has a big shop in the basement (it's also where the huge scary furnace was located), and lots of times it gets used for storing things. I remember when I got too tall to ride this little rocking horse thing, and my dad took it into the shop and hung it on the wall until he could store it properly. One time I was down there, and I happened to look into the darkened shop on my way up the stairs, and I could see the eyes on that horse shining back at me. I turned and ran screaming up the stairs, thinking that horse was possessed and about to kill me.
Even now, at 28, I still run up the stairs like something is going to come out of that shop and get me.

When it was winter, if it was ever snowing and we were driving somewhere at night, I would always pretend that the snowflakes were arrows being shot at our vehicle. Since Monica was almost always with me, we would shout out orders to each other: There's one coming in from the left side! Watch out! There's a whole bunch coming from the east!!!
In reality, there were like 4 billion snowflakes flying at us, so if they really were arrows we would surely be dead.

And this last one is actually a memory about Monica...
I went to a Catholic school, Monica went to public school. Because of this, she had to take catechism classes before church on Sundays. Sometimes, my family would go to church in a different town, because then we'd meet up with my mom's family, and all go for breakfast afterward.
Since Monica's sisters were older, they didn't need to take catechism, so they would often come with my family to church in the neighbouring town. In reality they just wanted to come for breakfast, because my dad would let them eat whatever they wanted, and buy us all a treat after.They both always picked Skor bars for their treats. And do you know why?
Well I'll tell you.
Because they would spend the trip home licking all the chocolate off the hard toffee part, then when they got home and Monica asked them what they were eating, they would tell her it was crispy bacon left over from breakfast, and she believed them! She didn't like bacon, so was never as upset when she couldn't come with us, because she thought all she was missing was bacon.
LOL - poor Monica, I still don't think she knows the truth...

Enough is Enough!

2009-02-02T20:05:00.004-06:00

Alright, as some of you may or may not have noticed, I've been a bit...absent lately. And I mean absent in so many senses of the word.

Absent from my usual happy-go-lucky self, absent from posting regularly, absent from commenting regularly - and in real life, I've been worse. I'm around to play with Ellery, and be as great of a mom as I can, but in all other areas of my life? Completely AWOL.

What has caused this major change in me? Lord only knows, but I'm guessing it's a combination of hormones, feeling sorry for myself, missing the mental challenge of my job, and the winter.
However, it has been made abundantly clear (from my own realizations, and the cold hard truth coming from the mouths of some of the people that I love most in the world) that this simply won't do.

I've been feeling sorry for myself, worrying about work, second guessing things I know I should take for truth, and what I fear the most, pushing the people who love me away, simply because...well, I'm not sure why.

I realize that this is all very secretive, but trust me, I've been a mess. Thus, I've committed myself to quit being such a suck, quit being so "poor me", and get back to being my usual self...the crazy, happy girl that I miss so desperately.

And, by means of showing you all my commitment, I've got a perverted little video for you all to watch, that literally had me laughing my head off!
No really, my head fell off while I was watching this...

Stupid Pervert Spam

2009-01-30T10:12:00.002-06:00

Every morning I get up, make coffee, and check my email accounts before I go and grab my babbling daughter out of her crib.

Usually there are a few things that have arrived overnight, so I quickly scan through them while I have a moment to myself. Depending on the account, there are facebook updates, personal emails, freelance jobs, etc. And, as always, there is the spam. The dirty, stupid, pervert spam - usually telling me how I can "increase the girth of my manhood".

Ahem. Pervert spammers...just why is it that you assume I'm a man? And why do you assume that if I am a man, I wouldn't already have an amazingly impressive manhood? Because I assure you - if I was a dude, it would be impressive.

Anyways, I'll leave you with a few that were gracing my junk mail this morning...

-Your love-muscle needs upgrading...
-Bigger is better for getting the chicks!
-Give it to her - viagra samples free!!!!

Things a 28-Year-Old Shouldn't Feel Guilty About

2009-01-28T16:39:00.002-06:00

While I was still living at home, I wasn't allowed to take naps. My mom's reasoning for this was that if I was stupid enough to stay up so late the night before, then I would have to deal with the after affects of feeling crappy the next day. She always maintained that things around the house still needed to get done - and that tired or not, I had responsibilities.
As a result of that, I often struggle with having naps now. I did go through a phase right after I moved in with the husband of napping all the time, but that was almost as a result of post-coital exhaustion. Ahem. Anyways, at this stage in my life, maybe because of Ellery, I often feel incredibly guilty having a nap. I keep thinking that while she's asleep I need to take that time alone to get other things done around the house, because once she's up again I'll be playing with her.

As most of you know, I have terrible eating habits. I often don't eat until suppertime each day, simply because I get busy doing things, and I've been doing it so often, it's almost like I don't even get hungry till suppertime.
Occasionally though, I'll feel hungry in the afternoon, and decide to have a snack. My first thought is always popcorn, because it's fast, easy, and can be eaten whenever I'm walking by and grab a handful.
But each time I think to make it, I go back to my parents teaching me not to eat before meals, because it would "ruin my dinner." And then I feel guilty about making popcorn, because it's more of an after dinner, watching a movie sort of a snack.

Sometimes I am even guilt ridden about buying things for myself, even though they're necessities. For instance, every time I need something like new jeans or new bras, I hem and haw about it until the husband finally says "Look, you need jeans, you need bras, why are you thinking about it? Go buy them!"
It's not that we can't afford for me to buy these things, it's because I keep thinking that money could go towards our savings, or now buying something for Ellery instead.

But one of the most annoying things I feel guilt about, is having a lazy day. You know those days when you just want to hang out in your jammies, watch movies, lay on the couch, eat crappy food, and do nothing?
Yeah, on days I decide to do that, I often spend all that time "doing nothing" thinking about what I should be doing, then eventually caving in and doing 4 loads of laundry and a monster kitchen clean up, just because of the guilt.

The husband, rightly, thinks I'm nuts for feeling guilty about things like this. He keeps saying that I'm an adult, and I can do whatever the hell I want, buy whatever I want, and of course, go for a nap when I want.
This is all a result of the way I was raised though. My parents wanted me to know there are consequences to every action, not to ruin my dinner, that money doesn't grow on trees, and that it's best to be responsible. I get that. But I think they may have taught me too well...in some regards anyways.

Just a Little Snack

2009-01-27T14:24:00.005-06:00

Man oh man! I am really letting this blog slide as of late. Sorry about that - must get my arse in gear.

We've been in Ontario the past four days or so, visiting the parentals and being lazy. But other than that, I have nothing else to report.

I'll leave you with some weirdy things I've noticed about myself lately:

1. I like soggy french fries. While most people go for the nice golden, almost crispy ones, I prefer the ones that are limp. Hehe.
2. It really bothers me when people throw away pennies. Like since it's only 1 cent, it doesn't count. That's a really stupid attitude. One hundred pennies make a dollar - and there are a lot of people that wish they had that kind of money.
3. I say the word "about" oddly. I know people stereotypically think Canadians say it "aboot", but I seem to have taken it to some new level. It's almost like I say "abeewwwt". Like I throw an "eeew" right in the middle.

And on that note, I'll bid you adieu. Until tomorrow.

Just Use the Dirty Words Already!

2009-01-21T11:03:00.001-06:00

Monica's mom is an avid reader. She reads anything and everything, thus has a substantial book collection. History books, classic books, trashy novels, lots of books on Scotland (where she's from), you name it, she reads it.

I used to be a reader, but in recent years have had a hard time fitting any extra reading into my life. One of the reasons for that is that usually when I pick up a book I can't set it down. I have very little willpower in that regard.

Over Christmas I spent a lot of time at Monica's parents house, and decided to borrow some of her mom's books. I just wanted something easy to read, that I could pick up and put down without much effort, and therefore ended up with a stack of mostly trashy/romance type stuff. I've been reading them at a rate of about a book a day. I play with Ellery when she's awake, but the reading could be the reason my house in such a particularly hideous state of disarray.

Is it possible for me to just say what I want to say without a 10 paragraph long precursor? I think not. Holy.

Anyways, as I was saying, I now have a huge stack of easy-to-read smut books, that I am whipping through at breakneck speed.

Wow, that was way easier than writing all that other junk up above...

Okay, right! So yeah, I've made an annoying discovery in these books when there is some sort of sex scene going on.

For some reason, these authors like to use the word "sex" as a sexy substitute for the words penis or vagina.

For example: Just when Helga and Brutus' heavy make-out session is going to turn into some passionate lovemaking, the author will write a couple lines like: Helga was overcome with lust for Brutus. As he expertly danced his fingers down her naked stomach towards her sex, he could feel his own sex busting to get out of his trousers.

Yeah. That's about as sexy as getting your yearly physical done by your pervy uncle.

I realize "penis" and "vagina" don't come across as very sexy either, but come on! Anyone reading this trash knows damn well there's going to be sex scenes, so just use the dirty words already!

Hi!

2009-01-20T15:01:00.001-06:00

Alright, alright, I've had my week long pity party, and as Rock Chef so nicely put it: Well come on! You've had your week! Get your little ass in gear! (I mean really, how could a girl resist that? lol)

Today I'll just give you a recap of recent events, then get back to business tomorrow.

1. The meltdown last week was a culmination of many things - some serious, some not. But you know how when there are a couple big things, everything else just seems to get blown out of proportion too, right? In all honesty, after I had that cry-fest, posted that blog, and the husband got home from work and gave me some tlc, I felt much better.
Plus, who wouldn't feel better having Gigi and Reggie calling and leaving sweet messages on their answering machine?
Love you guys :)

2. Ellery hit the 8 month mark last week, and let me tell you, the kid is a riot! She isn't crawling yet, but is more content to just roll everywhere (including over everything that gets in her way) to get where she needs to go.
She now yells Dada, Mama, Yiyi, Nana and a few others consistently at the top of her lungs, which is pretty cute, except when the husband is working nights and is trying to sleep.
She has a new smile we're calling "The Pirate Grin" where she grins so hard that her eyes almost disappear into her face, and sometime she only closes the one eye, giving her the pirate look.
This is her in her new housecoat, on the way to The Pirate Grin, but not quite there. It's a fairly elusive grin, and I have yet to catch its full effect on camera.

3. We're heading to Ontario this weekend. We haven't been there since Christmas and I can not wait! I know, it's weird that I get so excited to see my family, but I really can't wait to see them, especially to get a hug from my dad :)

4. I'm noticing that I've gotten really lazy with my freelance. Not writing it, but more with the interviews.
I used to get an assignment, look up the person or company on the internet, research them as much as possible, plot and write out each question I would ask, obsessively check that my tape recorder had new batteries, do a drive-by at each location I had to go to for interviews so that I could be sure I knew where I was going, check that I had a notebook and at least three working pens before I got there...
Now? If I get around to it I'll take a quick scan over their website, check to make sure there are batteries in my recorder, and off I go. I'm not entirely sure whether it's just because I'm lazy, or because I've been doing it so long now that it doesn't stress me out like it used to. I guess it's because now it seems easier to just talk to people, and create a natural flowing conversation, than be a total nerd and read from a notebook?
Maybe it's a combination of laziness and honing my craft? Is that possible?

5. We've decided that this is the year we're finally going to buy a house. I've said that before, but this time I mean it. We're paying ridiculous rent (our last jump in rent was $21 a month!), and since house prices are coming down a teeny bit, I figure, why wait? We've been waiting for years and now we've got nothing to show for it but $80,000 in rent receipts!

6. I've got nothing else to report! How unexciting am I? Sheesh.

I'm Giving Myself a Week Off

2009-01-13T17:07:00.002-06:00

I know, I know - it's only the start of a new year, and already I'm taking a week off from blogging? What's up with that?
I don't know how other to say it, other than, I'm lost.
I feel really lost in my own life right now, and it's been going on for about a month and a half. I just spent an hour sitting on the living room floor bawling, while Ellery stared at me like I had grown another head. So not cool. I need to get my shit together.
And before anyone starts to worry, please don't. Nothing is really wrong, there are just too many things on my mind right now, some of them not even to do with me, and I'm feeling overwhelmed.
All will be well soon, I know it :)

Uh

2009-01-13T00:16:00.002-06:00

I've been sitting here for 23 minutes, trying to write a post. It's after midnight and I'm tired. For some reason I'm having trouble making thoughts, and the words that come with them, flow through my fingers and into the keyboard. Forgive me. I'll try to be back later in the day with something worth typing about. Have a wonderful Tuesday - hope your brains all work clearly today :)

A Secretive Post for a Friday

2009-01-09T10:14:00.000-06:00

As many of you know, I make my living as an editor/writer. The editor part is at a publishing company, and the writer part is via freelance jobs for various magazines, etc.
I went to college and graduated from a Print Journalism program, as I wanted to be a reporter. I did work as one at a paper back in Alberta, which I loved, but full time writing gigs (at least at a newspaper) are hard to come by. It's the sort of field where people stick around till they die.

All my life I have loved the written word - the way it looks on paper, the way words can make you feel, make a point, tell a story. I love proofreading; finding misspellings, grammatical errors, making necessary changes between Canadian and American spellings, all of it. I am a complete word nerd. And yes, I do occasionally make mistakes myself, so those of you (ahem, Reggie and Judy) that are worried about making errors when leaving me comments, fear not, they happen to the best of us.

Like many writers, I have often dreamed of writing a book, and one day becoming a best-selling author. And really, who wouldn't want that? I would love to be the next J.K. Rowling...I could definitely stand being a bajillionaire.

One of the most supportive people in my life is Monica (the Bahama Mama). She supports me in everything I do, but has always held the firm belief that one day I will write a book so incredible, that half the world will know who I am. She thinks I should write children's books because of my wild imagination, teen novels because she feels that my emotional self could write great tear-jerkers for girls, an autobiography because she thinks I'm hilarious and that people would want to read it.

Now I'm not so sure about all those things, but I do know that having a cheerleader like that on my side makes me really want to do those things, partially because I want to make her proud of me.

Over Christmas she asked me how a particular writing project was going - one that I have been working on for several years - and I told her it was just over halfway done. She was thrilled.

Her sisters were over while we were talking about it, and joined in on the conversation. We began talking about all the different types of writing I could do, and eventually got on the topic of one form I had never seriously considered before. Monica was so excited that she was standing up in the living room basically yelling at me "Al!!! You should totally do that! Can you imagine how much fun that would be?!? You have the perfect mind for that kind of writing! You have to do it, I'd be your biggest fan!!! Okay, that's it, you're doing it!!!"

Then we all sat around and laughed about it, because it sounded so ridiculous...but then I started thinking about it. I could do it. I really could. And she's talked to me seriously twice about it since that initial conversation.

I started doing some research about it on my own, and decided yesterday that yes, I'm going to do it. The husband and I talked it over yesterday afternoon, and he agreed that it would be pretty amazing.

So...I've given myself until I return to work to get it done. That's four months. I'm holding myself to it. And when it's all done, I'll share it with you. And if things work out, I'll send you an autographed copy :)

The Interview

2009-01-08T11:08:00.001-06:00

My 5 questions from Princess of the Universe!

1. I love love love the name Ellery! Are you willing to share other names that you considered?
When I originally wrote this answer, I included the two other names we considered. But after thinking about it, and talking about it with the husband, I decided I just couldn't post it. Before Ellery was born I actually had one of my baby names stolen by a "friend" of mine.
Besides, we might be able to use them one day, and I so love keeping you all in suspense with things like that :)

2. Do you order Diet Pepsi with cherries when you're out without me? Or is it our special thing?
I actually always order regular Pepsi, because diet is just a waste of time to me :) but no, I never order it when I'm not out with you. I just never seem to think of it any other time, but as soon as I see you, it's like "Bonk! Order Pepsi with cherries in it!" So I do :)

3. So you've got a few months left before you have to go back to work - what do you want to accomplish? Visit Monica? Write a novel? See a movie?
Before I go back to work?!?? You mean I have to go back? Eeeek!
To tell you the truth, I just want to spend as much time as possible with Ellery, it's going to be hard not being with her all the time.
Mind you...I am planning a trip with Monica and our moms - we're thinking of going to New York - but otherwise, um, maybe a date or two?

4. I totally want us to do a video post together, when can we do that? When? When? When can I see you? I love you. I miss you. When?
LOL - I love you too. But a video post? With me? Is it going to be a post of us shopping? I seriously hate myself on camera...you may have to coerce me.

5. Personality-wise, who do you think Miss E is more like, you or Chris?
Well, she's pretty loud, which is like me. She's pretty smiley, which is like both of us. She's silly, which is both of us. She has a temper, which is sort of like both of us, but more like Chris (hehe). She gets the giggles a lot, which is totally me. So man, I have no idea!
All I know is that looks wise, the only thing she got from me was my long eyelashes. Otherwise she's entirely Chris' baby.

The only rules are that you have to link back to the original post and you have to put these rules in your post:
"Want to be part of it? Follow these instructions:

1. Leave me a comment saying, "Interview me."
2. I will respond by emailing you five questions.
I get to pick the questions.
3. You will update your blog with the
answers to the questions.
4. You will include this explanation and an
offer to interview someone else in the same post.
5. When others comment asking to be interviewed,
you will ask them five questions."

Because I'm Smooth Like That

2009-01-06T10:34:00.000-06:00

Most weekends Monica (the Bahama Mama) calls me from the Bahamas so we can chat and catch up on each others lives. Since we just saw each other at Christmas, we've opened up the gab floodgates, and she's actually called me about 3 times already since then.
It costs her something like 1 cent a minute to call, so either she calls me, or I call her to call me right back.
The only reason I ever know it's her calling is because the area code is 503 - but recently her number is coming up as a 204 area code, which is actually Manitoba's area code. So, now when this certain 204 number calls, I know it's her.
What you should know is that we never just answer the phone in a regular way. More often than not one of us is answering as a Chinese takeout place, a phone sex operator, a pimp, a dirty old chainsmoker...you know, all that fun stuff.
Sunday afternoon I was laying on the living room floor playing with Ellery, husband was cleaning the bathroom, and the phone rang. I jumped up, saw it was Monica's usual 204 number, smiled, and pressed "talk" on the phone...

Me: Yo Vanilla, what's up biotch?!?
Monica: Um...hello Ma'am, I'm looking for a Miss Alison M______?
Me: (laughing) Oh yeah? This is she.
Monica: Hello ma'am? This is Alison?
Me: (laughing) Yes, you jackass, this is Alison!
Monica: I'm sorry Ma'am - what happened? Why are you laughing?
Me: What? (laughing harder) Why are you being such an idiot? Mon, it's me!!!
Monica: (laughing)
Me: Helloooooo? (still laughing)
Monica: Yes Ma'am - I'm looking for Miss Alison M______.
Me: (laughing some more) Who is this?

- I had started to realize that this person's voice was sounding a little deep to really be Monica, so by now I was thinking she had some friends over and was just trying to make me believe it wasn't them calling -

Dude I thought was Monica: (laughing) Ma'am?

- I'm hysterically laughing at this point. Ellery is staring at me and husband has actually come out of the bathroom and is standing in the hall laughing at me -

Me: Seriously, who is this? (laughing so hard I'm barely coherent now) Just put Monica on!
Dude: This is Peter Stevenson (and yes, he actually told me his real name)...
Me: Oh really?!? Well hello Peter! How are you? Can I talk to Monica now? (I'm almost bawling at this point because this guy sounds so flustered)
Dude: Um Ma'am, I'm very sorry, but I'm looking for a Miss Alison M_____.
Me: (screaming in laughter)
Dude: Ma'am, has something happened? Why are you laughing? Ma'am, are you okay?

- He's sort of nervously laughing now, obviously unsure of just what the hell is going on, and wondering what he's missed out on -

Me: Monica!!! Put her on!
Dude: Are you alright? Has something happened to you?

- I can only imagine what I sounded like at this point, because I was laughing so hard that I was bent over holding my stomach, and just sort of shrieking into the phone -

Me: (suddenly realizing that maybe this wasn't one of Monica's friends) Wait - who is this?
Dude: Ma'am, I'm calling on behalf of LightRelief to talk to Miss Alison M_____ about her recent order of our product...
Me: (standing bolt upright and my mouth dropping open, because I really had just ordered one of their products online) Oh shit!! Seriously?!?!? Oh shit!!!
Dude: Ma'am?
And then I hung the phone up.

I stood there holding it in my hand for a moment and then the husband - who was still standing in the hallway looking at me - said "So was it Monica?"
And then I busted into a fit of giggles, feeling so bad for the guy I had just put through that crazy, messed up phone call. And when he called back 30 seconds later I was actually laying on the floor in the living room hysterical, and no way in hell did I answer it.

Because yeah, I'm smooth like that.

Ah 2008, It Was a Good Year

2009-01-01T17:35:00.003-06:00

I would have to say that 2008 was a much better year than the one before. In 2007 things were so messed up - working crazy hours, dealing with tragedy, medication/appointments to get pregnant. But this past year has been quite amazing in so many ways.

Do I have regrets? Hell yes. Did I make some stupid decisions? Most definitely. But was it still an amazing year? Don't I know it.

Here, in no particular order, are some highlights and lowlights:

Best of the Best: The birth of Ellery Anne Elizabeth on May 13^th. No one has ever made me happier, or made my life more whole than that miracle baby. She is the sunshine of my life and makes every day the best one so far.

My Most Played Songs: Southern Girl (Amos Lee), Love Song (Sarah Bareilles), It Never Entered My Mind (Miles Davis), Magic Man (Heart), Baby I Got Your Money (Old Dirty Bastard), I’m Yours (Jason Mraz), Sweet Pea (Amos Lee), Hot Child in the City (Joan Jett), Baby I Love You (Rheostatics), My Girl (The Temptations), Leave the Pieces (The Wreckers), Rock & Roll Queen (The Subways), and a lot of rap and R&B – what can I say, Ellery likes a good beat.

Biggest Musical Surprise: That I don’t totally hate Taylor Swift - though I’m embarrassed that I just confessed that.

Stupidest Reason To Sulk: There are way too many of these to pick just one…but maybe…um, when I was sulking because the husband actually bought me flowers, but he bought them on a Friday when I was leaving the city for 4 days, so I knew they’d be dead by the time I got home? I should have just been happy he thought to buy them.

My Trendiest Moment: I think I was pretty much the farthest thing from trendy in 2008 – must work on that for 2009!

Most Innocent Comment: That time watching TV with my uncle when some girl slapped on her O face for the sake of getting it over with, and I said “She faked it!”, then had to explain to my uncle how I knew she had faked it…so awkward.

Best Movie Seen in a Theater: I would have to say Horton Hears a Who, and that’s only because it is literally the only movie I can remember seeing last year. We went to see it just days before Ellery was born, and she kicked through the whole thing - I do remember it being a very cute movie.

Favorite Television Show: Brothers & Sisters; I’m sure it will be my favourite till it goes off the air.

Best Books I Read: The only thing I’ve actually read is What to Expect the First Year, which is so not what this question is asking.

Books I Couldn’t Finish: Anything I’ve picked up? I’m usually either too busy or too tired to read these days.

Worst Written Book: Who knows?

Unhealthiest New Habit: This one is sort of a renewal of an old bad habit…I’ve stopped eating during the day again. When I was pregnant I made sure to eat all day long, but now that Ellery is here I’ve gone back to finally remembering to eat somewhere around supper time. It’s not so good for the energy supply.

Healthiest New Habit: Uh…*giggle* …healthy habit? Ummmm, yeah, don’t think I’ve developed any of those…whoops.

Favourite Electronic Toys: The iPod touch that I literally bought yesterday, on the last day of the year. It makes me super happy. Oh, and the PVR (or DVR, depending on what you call it) is awesome.

Best Getaway: Getting to spend about 4 weeks straight at my parents’ house in Ontario just after Ellery was born – that was the best thing I could have done.

Best New Addition to the Food Rotation (homemade): I don’t know what it’s called (got the recipe from my mom), so I’m just going to call it Cheezy Chicken Broccoli Brown Rice Heaven in a Pan. It makes my mouth water.

Best New Addition to the Food Rotation (ordered in): The spicy ginger beef from our Chinese takeout place…mmmm.

Best New Addition to the Food Rotation (bought in a box): Ellery’s rice pablum. You may think I’m nuts, but I love baby pablum.

Scariest Moment: Looking at that heart rate monitor when I was in labour and knowing that Ellery was in trouble.

Longest Wait: The whole “Induce her/put her on the waiting list/induce her/put her on the waiting list debacle” – as if being on bedrest the month before that wasn’t enough of a wait.

Worst Pain: Back labour. Worst pain of my entire life.

Biggest Academic Accomplishment: Leaving work to go on maternity leave? Hehe.

Best Freebies: The diapers my mom keeps buying us :)

Best Bringer Home of the Bacon: That would have to be the husband, as he’s gotten somewhere around 3 raises this year. Though I’m not doing too badly, considering I still get a paycheque (though considerably smaller than pre-baby) for getting to stay home with Ellery.

Best I Fought The Law Moment (and I Won): Hmm, I haven’t had too many run-ins with the law this year that I can recall…and when I really think about it, I don’t even think I had to talk/flirt my way out of a speeding ticket this year. Yay me!

Wow. I just realized how much of that had to do with Ellery. Ah well, she was the biggest event in a very long time, and I wouldn’t change any of that – even the labour – for anything. Here’s to a wonderful 2009!

Ho Ho Hold It!

2008-12-21T23:15:00.003-06:00

Mkay, so I've really been pretty spastic with my posts this month - sorry about that people. As I get older I find that December is such a messy, event-filled, panic stricken month that I rarely take the time to enjoy it anymore.
But tomorrow morning I'm setting off with the husband and Miss Ellery, to suck up all the love and relaxation we can in the little town I used to call home.
The Bahama Mama is also rolling into town tomorrow, so I'll get to spend the next week or so with her, running back and forth between the houses in our pj's. Good times - we never get too old for hanging out in our pj's.
Anyways, just wanted to send a quick shout-out to my blog family, love you all so much, and hope that you have a wonderful, happy, healthy Christmas and New Year!

xo xo xo xo xo

Oh, The Places I Have Lived

2008-12-16T18:01:00.000-06:00

I absolutely stole this idea from Backpacker Momma over at Mother Nature's Daughter, because as you all know, I am totally bad ass.
Anyways, it's a compilation of all the places I've lived - and all the little tidbits that made them unique - since I moved out of my parents' house at 18. This brought back so many memories...

Rental #1 - North Bay, Ontario - 6 bedroom townhouse on campus at my college

Lived with 5 other girls. It was a sweet house. I had the bedroom in the middle upstairs, across from the loft, and one door down from the bathroom with the shower. Liked all my roommates but Melissa. She was schizophrenic, stole everyone's food, and made stuff up. Our house was located directly across from a house full of cute University guys, about 120 feet from the college doors, and 60 feet in the other direction from the laundry building. Smoked and drank a lot in that house. Danced a lot in that house. Met some amazing people in that house.

My second year I lived in the same house, with an entirely new group of girls. Had even more fun that year. Drank and smoked and danced a lot more that year too.

Rental #2 - Calgary, Alberta - 1 bedroom bachelor pad on Falshire Drive

This is when Chris and I moved in together. It was a basement apartment. When I moved in there was a mattress on the floor, an old lamp on a box beside the mattress, a Green Day poster on the wall in the living room, a loveseat and chair that we actually just got rid of earlier this year, an old school tv with wood panelling on the sides, about 4 plates, 3 pots, a handful of mismatched utensils, and some towels.
I discovered Ikea about 5 minutes after I moved in, and within a month or so we had a proper tv, a table and chairs, an area rug, a fully-applianced kitchen, stuff on the walls, and the disgusting smell of electrician-working-in-a-sulfur-plant (fyi - that was Chris, he used to be an electrician) had been banished to the hall closet.
Since it wasn't the best area in town, we had some questionable neighbours. One pair of women in particular - two 30-year-old little people who hung out by the dumpsters smoking crack with a bunch of 14-year-old kids.

Rental #3 - Calgary, Alberta - 2 bedroom apartment in Falconridge

This is when I actually told my parents I was moving in with Chris. They took it better than I expected considering we weren't married yet. This place cost a bloody fortune, and half the time it was like I was living alone anyways, because Chris would go away to work for a month at a time, then be home for 5 days and gone again.
The day we went to see the show suite, I asked the landlord if the one we would be renting faced east or west, because I wanted to be sure to get either morning or afternoon sunlight. She actually asked me if that was because I was planning on growing pot in the second bedroom. I still don't think she actually believed me when I said that I was just growing house plants.
This is the first place I felt like a grown up. Maybe because I planned our entire wedding from that place, I'm not sure. I loved this apartment.
The only bad part? We moved in after a family of about 10 moved out, and they didn't clean before they left. The end result was that the entire place smelled like curry. We must have gone through 3 bottles of bleach trying to get the smell out. I distinctly remember standing on the kitchen counters with a sponge soaked in diluted bleach wiping the curry off the ceiling!

Rental #4 - Winnipeg, Manitoba - 2 bedroom apartment in St. James

We sublet this place from a little old lady who was moving back home after her husband passed away in the hospital. I remember when we did the walk through with her, and she took us into the second bedroom and told me she had fixed it up for when her granddaughters came to stay with her. It was full of dolls - all scary looking - I'll never forget the one sitting in a highchair in the corner. It had a porcelain face and staring glass eyes, and its face was all cracked. Eeek.
This apartment was huge! I painted it all sorts of bright, wild colours and I loved everything about it. We were on the 7th floor and it was very quiet, except for the fact that we were overlooking the 8 lane traffic of Portage Avenue.
I still remember the time Chris was too lazy to take the garbage out to the dumpster, and instead left it in the underground parkade. When we came home later, that bag of garbage was sitting ripped open inside our apartment - our landlords had gone through it, found some mail addressed to us, and brought the bag to us to dispose of properly.
I didn't want to leave that place, but when Chris got into nursing school we couldn't afford the rent anymore...which leads us to the hell that was Rental #5...

Rental #5 - Winnipeg, Manitoba - 1 bedroom clusterf*ck in Wolseley

By far the worst place we have ever lived. It was the best neighbourhood you could ask for, though in the dumpiest house on the face of the earth - but our rent was $450 a month, and when one spouse is in school and the other is working for minimum wage, it'll do.
This is the place I talked about before, where we had Crazy Eyes for a neighbour? The one that was obsessed with us having sex? Yeah, it was great.
One house, 4 apartments. Let me break it down for you. We were in the biggest apartment. Crazy Eyes and Vi were in the one-room hole downstairs. Fernando was a night-shift worker below us that was constantly complaining that we made too much noise. Hello? We're gone all day and when we're home in the evening we have to walk around at some point! Tammy was the hooker that lived in the apartment above us. And I'm serious about her being a hooker - she would literally have two and three men a night come in, do her, and leave.
One of the most memorable things about this place is when we moved in, we had to get our queen size bed up a very narrow and winding staircase, and there was no way in hell it was going to fit. So what did my dear daddy do? He took the hacksaw out of my toolbox and cut the banister off. And I stood by cheering and clapping. We got in trouble for that, but the place was a dump anyways, so I don't feel bad.

Rental #6 - Winnipeg, Manitoba - 2 bedroom townhouse in St. James

This is the place we still live - we'll be here till we buy a house, that was the decision. We finally have our own washer and dryer, our own doorway, a fireplace, a dishwasher, a garburator (and I have NO idea how to spell that properly, people), a pool - this place is actually pretty fantastic. Except that we pay an un-Godly amount of rent, plus utilities. We could have a sweet house for what we pay each month...too bad we're trying to get out of the foolish debt we got ourselves into when we were starting out.
Anyways, this place has been home for about 4 years, and it's comfy. I have no problem being here till we find the house that's right for us.

So while I was going through all these rentals, I started wondering about how much we've paid in rent over the years. I like to torture myself, what can I say?
So starting from the bachelor pad in Calgary (my parents paid my rent at college), I have come to a conservative figure of about $78, 000.
Can you believe that?!?!?! And I was actually under-estimating a little!

I think it's almost time we got ourselves a mortgage...

This Is One Shitty Day...And It's Only One O'clock!

2008-12-15T12:56:00.005-06:00

Alright. I've been in my house for two days. It's been super cold out, Ellery has been cranky, and the husband has been away, so I figured since there was nothing pressing that needed to be done, I'd just hole up for a few days.
This morning though, I needed out. Anywhere. And it just so happens that I have over half my Christmas list left to buy for, so I decided to pack up Miss E and hit the mall.

In the space of 1.5 hours, this is what happened...
- I nearly wiped out running back in the house after starting the car.
- Ellery screamed like someone was murdering her while I put her in her snowsuit.
- I got severely stuck backing out of my parking spot.
- My big, strapping neighbour who is always home, wasn't home to help me out.
- I had to run to my neighbour with a heart condition's house instead.
- He actually had my tires smoking I was stuck so bad.
- I had a fight/misunderstanding with a close friend that made me very sad.
- I broke Ellery's stroller. (This is a long story, but it's actually the manufacturer's fault.)
- I broke the headset for my Blackberry.
- Then I called my mom to tell her I changed my mind about something I had asked her for for Christmas, and she got mad.

So. Let's hope this day turns around really fast.

Hey Dudes

2008-12-12T09:44:00.003-06:00

Sorry I've been AWOL this week - life is just sort of kicking my ass as of late.
I'm not really ready for Christmas, and I've begun thinking about work and what I'm going to do about that whole situation, and there's issues with family members, and friends...nothing is really wrong, just thinking too much I guess.

Hope to be back cheery and fiesty by Monday. Love you all.

Dear Fabricland Hags,

2008-12-08T16:41:00.003-06:00

I don't know if you've had any sort of formal training on how to be the most bitchy, prissy, snot-faced bunch of old bags that I've ever come across, but let me assure you, if you haven't, you should receive an award. The Bitchy Company of the Year award.

I wish I could say that maybe I just had a bad experience today. Perhaps you were training a new person, or your tills were down, or someone had mis-priced the bolt of fabric I needed cut - but alas, that would be a lie. Today's experience was much like every other one I've had in your stores, but perhaps was the first time I didn't leave empty handed after having thrown anything I needed cut down on the nearest table and stomping out trailing a string of expletives. And that was only because I really, really needed the fabric, and I had already left one of your other locations in a huff earlier in the week.

It's one thing to be precise with your measuring and cutting, but for the love of all things holy, no one is going to fault you for cutting someone an extra inch of red flannel when it's on sale for 2 bucks a meter, plus an extra 20% off with your Fabricland card! Really! You act as though you spent hours at your loom, creating this crap yourself!

I don't understand why each of you seem to take it as a personal blow, when I respond that No, I do not have a members card. Why do you immediately pull your nose into the air and say "Well then you'll have to pay full price," then look down at me as if you're waiting for me to say "Oh, gee wilickers lady, there's no way I can afford all this beautiful fabric now."

Do not feel sorry for me - I can afford what I'm buying.

Do not give me attitude - there's no one stopping me from giving it right back to you.

Do not glare at me as if me needing you to cut 3 meters of polar fleece is going to ruin your day - that's your god-damn job.

I know I may not come off as Suzy Homemaker, and maybe I have no idea how to genuinely sew anything. So what if I can't read a pattern to save my life, or I can't remember if I need the 64" width, or the 68"?

When I texted my husband from your store, asking him if we had bail money to get me out of the slammer if I maimed one of you while I waited, I wasn't kidding.

The point is that I'm in your store to make a purchase. I go in happy and polite and ask nicely if I need a hand with something. The least you could do is come down off your high horse, smile, and help me out like you get paid to do.

Sincerely, Ali

I'm Lazy - So Miss Ellery It Is!!!

2008-12-06T16:17:00.004-06:00

She was mesmerized by the new LED lights last weekend - couldn't taker her eyes off them.

All bundled up in her stroller while we put the lights up.

A 6 month old nudie.

Behind bars in her crib, she's finally quit screaming when she rolls onto her stomach.

Pouting - big surprise ;)

And a terrible picture of her on Santa's lap. This isn't too bad though - as soon as she turned around and realized who was holding her she screamed bloody murder.

Dear Sam Elliott,

2008-12-03T12:08:00.000-06:00

I just finished watching Roadhouse for like the 78th time, and as always happens when I watch that movie, I was suddenly reminded of my extreme crush on you.

I know most people watching that movie are either there for the fight scenes, or for Patrick Swayze, but I feel that you, my dear Sam, are simply intoxicating.

Plus, the sex scene Swayze has with Blondie McDoctor is like the least sexy thing I have ever seen, so I just kind of ignore him. Which, I might add, is not an easy feat, since he is in about 98% of the movie.

Anyways...back to my crush...

See, since the first time I saw you in a movie when I was about 15, I have always thought you were incredibly sexy, and the fact that you always play such genuinely cool characters makes me want to jump your bones. And your voice, eeeeeee! That voice! It makes me weak in the knees!

So out of my own morbid curiosity, I decided to go online to read up a little about you. It seems that you were born in August of 1944 - which would make you 64 years old. Hmm. That's a little older than I was expecting. See, I was born in 1980, which makes me 28 years old. And if my math skills are up to par, that would mean I'm 36 years your junior. Hmm again.

Now I don't mean to be ageist here Sam, but do you see my dilemma? By the time I'm 40 you'll be 76! I think you are an incredible man, however I just don't think I can commit myself to someone so much older. I'm so sorry.

But if you ever want to hang out, or whisper sweet nothings in my ear, then I'm your girl. And actually, I would like to kiss you just once, so if you're up for it...

Until then,

Ali