Sometimes you think you are unhappy, but really you are not

Summer has been very very hectic. I was prepared, and I started off strong. But it is just that summer is surprisingly very long. Longer than you would think, if you were say, enjoying your summer. And doing fun summer things. But if you are trying to organize the busiest schedules of the year, and doing payrolls with five hundred stat holidays, and fielding dozens of phone calls daily, and meeting new clients daily, and organizing key drops and pick ups and replacing cars and keys and employees, then summer, she is LOOOOOOONG.

But, I could be stuck in an office 12 hours a day. Working for someone I hate. Spending my evenings making voodoo dolls of said person and using my creativity solely to find new ways to manipulate said dolls. I would much rather spend my summer stressing out in my own office, aka my sofa, with my doggies mulling around. And some days we take our coffee on the deck.

And when I leave the office, I have to spend time with cute doggies and kitties that are not mine. How can that be bad? It can't.

When the fall comes, I will begin to write again. I am very excited. I should be writing now. I could be writing now. But I am not ready to put the pressure on myself to write daily when I know that realistically, that won't happen right now. In a few weeks, yes but now, impossible.

There are definitely some downsides to the work I have chosen. But there are so many more upsides. And I am proud of myself for being able to see them and value them. Two years ago, this would have been impossible for me.

I'll build a house inside of you

After three months of scanning craigslist like a fiend, I was actually able to score tickets to see Wolf Parade. I noticed an ad for someone who wanted to trade her tickets for Saturday night's show for any other night, so I emailed her and said if she had no luck that I would buy her tickets at a mark-up.

Then I forgot about it.

Then on Friday, she emailed me and asked if I still wanted the tickets. Hells ya! It was a bit short notice to find a friend who wanted to come with, so I asked SB and he said cool. Even though he doesn't listen to them much, he's heard them on my truck CD. Although on the way there he kept screaming "Wolf Lover - WHOOO" to which I had to explain that we were on our way to see Wolf Parade, not Wolf Mother, and Wolf Lover is, as far as I know, not something that exists.

The show was pretty amazing. The first opening group was a duet of a guy and a girl playing 70s and 80s rock covers. Whatever, they were okay. Then there was a group called Holy Fuck, and I guess you would describe them as instrumental - they had a drummer, a bassist, a keyboardist, and a guy who played what SB and I call "The Table". It appeared to consist of many many gadgets and plugs and knobs for twisting, and it made all kind of noises. It all looked very complicated, and they kept having "technical difficulties". They were actually very good, SB was very into them, which surprised me.

Wolf Parade blew my mind, as I knew they would. Not only were they amazing, but the crowd had fabulous energy. I have generally been known to avoid any shows that do not involve seat assignment, and that was probably the only thing that bothered me about this show. We stood in our spot for 3 hours, waiting patiently, and forming polite boundaries with the other people around us, then five minutes before WP came on, 4 loud, annoying, stoned guys pushed through and squished themselves in front of us. Everyone was annoyed and pissed off, but made the best of it. SB was not pleased, and I think that ruined the whole show for him.

They played lots of old stuff, and lots of new stuff, which sounded pretty great. It was at La Sala Rossa, which holds about 225 people, and has a small stage. I wish that the room had some risers or something - just gradual "stairs" - because then the space might be almost perfect. Or if the stage was higher. But I don't think the room is tall enough to lift the stage.

Anyway, during the set they played Shine a Light, You are The Runner and I am My Father's Son, Fancy Claps, and a few others from the first album. Fancy Claps was probably my favorite. Then the encore was This Heart's on Fire, which I can give or take, but then I'll Believe in Anything to close things out. This one BLEW MY MIND!!! It sounded amazing, the crowd was amazing, I just do not have the words this early Sunday morning to describe how spectacular it was.

On a side note, I totally didn't realize, but I took my first writing class with the keyboardist from Wolf Parade. I love their music, but I'm not the type to look up everything I can about the band. But when I saw him, I recognized him right away. So weird. I remember his writing was really great, but a bit too poetic for my prose tastes. Music seems to suit him much better!

Like Beethoven composing deaf....

Hey, did you all know I want to be a writer?

Yup, I sure do.

I went to school for it and everything, and every once in a while I sit down with an idea and put pen to paper and start working. And it feels good. It feels comforting and complete, and correct. This is what I should be doing - I fought it for a long time and am finally resigned to the fact that this is my calling, my vocation, my purpose. But it does not pay the bills, for now, so I usually do it in between shooting cats with insulin, sifting through cat litter, and trying to scoop doggie diarrhea off the sidewalk. Which I also love. Of all the jobs in all the world that I could have to pay the bills while my creative juices be a percolatin', I would not choose another.

Anyway, one of the things that stalls my writing is the following. I will get a great idea, that I am so into and so committed to and I start working it out and writing. Then I will start reading a book. And that book has a similar premise. Not the same, I am not plagiarizing via ESP, but very close. And then all my ideas seem not so fresh. Not so great.

Case in point:

As my Advanced Prose project, where we began working on a novel, I wrote about a girl who died, but was able to watch and connect with her earthbound family members and loved ones. I was really into the idea, the characters, got great feedback, it was really quite lovely. Then I graduated, and set it aside, and wasn't sure if I would come back to it. And recently I've been thinking about it again.

Until I started reading The Lovely Bones. Which is about a girl who dies, and how she is relating to her grieving family.

I'm sure that no idea is really truly fresh. And if it is fresh, it may be experimental, and I am so not experimental. So I'm sure I will always come across ideas that are similar to mine. But I just don't like to be confronted with the similarities as I'm working on the project. It makes me question everything that I add to the project from there on out.

So, to write, do I need to avoid reading?

Time to get back into bank robbing

Today I sliced my thumb open on a can top. I was cleaning it off so that the kitties' owners wouldn't come home to stinky, fruit-fly attracting cans. Usually I am very careful about these things, but for some reason my head was in the clouds. Maybe it was because I was visiting this kitty and I am in love with him:

There have been a number of occasions when SB has had to remove this kitty from my pocket so as to avoid me "accidentally" bringing him home with me.

Anyway, you know that feeling you get when you hurt yourself? It's like you are in slow motion, and there is no pain at all at first, but you feel the slicing, broken down into like milliseconds. You have enough time, in that briefest of seconds, to think to yourself "How am I such a moron that this just happened to me?" and then in real life you yell "Fuck" and throw the can top into the sink. Still no pain, but you are scared to look. Scared to know just how crazy that crazy-assed cut is that you just did to yourself. For a second you think that maybe you imagined everything. But then you feel the tiniest twinge of a sting.

I looked down and the blood was running down my thumb, onto my wrist. I rinsed it under water, and I could feel the coolness of the tingle of water on nerviness, and that almost imaginary flapping of the tiny little slice of skin.

This job has changed me in many ways. And my stupidity has changed me in innumerable others. But they have now officially changed my actual identity. My left thumb print is forever altered.

I'm thinking of starting a new business

I have been back on the craigslist scene this week, getting rid of more furniture. I sold our old kitchen table and chairs, and our old office desk. Now it's just to get rid of those barstools, and our living room/dining/kitchen area will have been purged. Most of the stuff from IKEA we had bought in As-Is for 1/2 price or less, then we used it, and most of the stuff I got at least 1/2 price for it. So for the most part we made money. I'm thinking of just buying random things from there and selling them on craigslist as a side venture.

Now that we have also purchased all of the big pieces of furniture, we are thinking about side tables, wall hangings, lighting. These things always stump me. Not looking forward to this stage of the game!

I'm really feeling un-inspired lately. Work was pretty psycho there for a while, and though now I have more time for myself, I still feel the hangover and am exhausted. I had booked myself to mostly take today off, but for some reason wasn't able to stick to that. I had a few visits, did some banking, then call backs, schedule changes, emails, and before I knew it it was 4pm. We are also interviewing a candidate tonight for a full-time position, so I'm really hoping that will go well. If it doesn't, it might mean trouble for the trip we are planning to NB in a few weeks.

Feels like 1988

In my plight to convince SB that we absolutely need a digital SLR, I think I mentioned that I broke out the old Minolta SLR a few weeks ago to snap some fabulous photos. Today I dropped off two rolls of 24 at my local Pharmaprix, and now I'm waiting for my prints, and, more importantly, my CD of photos.

I have to say, the whole process is quite exciting. What could be on there? Will they turn out? Will I be hugely disappointed? The anticipation is a bit overwhelming for my convenience-filled little life.

Dropping off the films was a bit surreal. There was no line-up, and when I told the girl I hadn't done this in a gazillion years she just chuckled. I actually said goodbye to the film. I said "Bye little films". The girl chuckled at this, too. Then she asked me if I just wanted the CD, or if I wanted the prints too. If I was one step more environmental I would have said "CD only", but I'm paying for the prints anyway, and who knows, some of them might be frameable as-is.

Although she couldn't have them ready in an hour - ugh, the suspense! - they will be ready today, and I can't wait to pick them up. But, for $6 a pop, that's $12 that could have gone towards a DSLR, and that's not even including the gas there and back two times. I am going to keep a log book of how much I spend on photos. Hard data wins him over every time.

Things left to do before I will post pictures of our place ***NOW WITH AN IRONIC EDITORIAL****

1. Sell of a whole bunch of stuff.
We currently have about five more tables than we should have, plus a big giant wardrobe I would like to heave, and a work desk that is dis-assembled and will most likely never see the light of day again. And two bar stools that were left behind by the previous owners.

2. Buy a bunch of stuff.
We just got our dining set, which is gorgeous, albeit made wrong (two chairs would NOT go together, so we have to exchange them, but four chairs are great, so it's usable). Now we need to get a new sofa, because the one we use right now is spoken for and shipping out next month. We also need some extra seating (haven't decided between two club chairs or one love seat) for in front of the fire place, some lighting, all our picture frames, and a side table. And a buffet. And some bar stools that don't look like they are made out of old railroad ties.

3. Clean.
Because with the summer rush, I have sadly fallen out of my cleaning routine. The bathroom is clean (yay me!) and the kitchen gets tidied about every second day, but pet hair and dust abounds in the living room and bedroom.

But the paining is done, and SB installed a beautiful chair rail.

So that's it. But we love it. Too bad summer has interrupted our settling in routine.


***ED:
That second to last line says "But the paining is done..." Obviously it should say "painting", but I think subliminally, I really did mean to say paining, because the worst is over. The rest is just tiny details to drive me nutso from here to eternity.

The downside

Probably the greatest part about my job is that I get to hang out with tons of pets who aren't mine, but for a little slice of the day, I can pretend they are. I get to cuddle the cuddly ones, and play with the playful ones, and not have to get a special permit to have 30 animals in my home.

The downside of this is that I begin to feel like they belong to me. And then something terrible happens, and I am left devastated.

Two nights ago one of the dogs we walk was admitted to doggie ER because her owner found her collapsed when she arrived home in the evening. This morning I got word that she died in the night. She was only 4. I don't want to write details here, but I am just so sad.

Not always knee deep in very bad things

For my birthday, my Mummy treated me to a spa day. She said she wanted to get her hair done in that Fancy Place I go to (it's really not so fancy, but they use fabulous products), and that for my birthday she wanted me to come too to get my hair done, or a massage, or whatever.

I had my hair highlighted once, and while I loved how it looked, I am terrible at keeping things like that up, so I thought that wasn't the best choice. I was in need of a haircut, though, so I hopped on that one. Mummy said she wanted me to pick something else too.

A massage, while nice, isn't practical since we have them covered in our health insurance - in retrospect it would have been a bad idea to get all relaxed up and then get the phone call that our Jetta had died. I don't get manicures because I bite my nails and pick at the skin around, and it's just never going to get better. Putting a little paint on there to highlight my red fingers is just isn't pretty.

And while I HATE feet and hate having mine touched, it is theoretically sandal season, so I went with a pedicure.

I've only ever had one pedicure prior to this one, and while it was okay, it wasn't life changing and I could never justify spending my own cash on getting one (it had been a gift). I had gone to another, reputable spa to get it, and so I assumed that that was it. Just ho-hum. They had paraffined me and scraped and massaged and painted, but it just was so so.

But my Birthday Pedicure was oh so fabulous. She soaked my feet, then rubbed them with an exfoliant, then she razored them (sounds scary, but is so not scary), and then, I shit you not, she Dremel-ed my feet. A real Dremel tool, that said Dremel on the side and everything, with a little foot-Dremel attachment. And then all the lotion and polish and stuff.

Two weeks later and my feet are JUST starting to get all dry again. I wonder how we can get pedicures included in our medical insurance?

VDC strikes again

Actually, VDC has been quite good these past few days. He's becoming more used to us, so he will actually chance it and wander into the hallway before hissing and spitting at us. This morning I arrived along with one of our employees, and while she was preparing the injection, I was shooing him out from under the bed.

The bed has a wooden frame, but it's a platform bed, so it's not very tall, as there is no boxed spring. I have moved this bed twice a day for the past week or so, but for some reason today when I pushed it (knees bent, both hands), I twisted in a weird way and totally wrenched my back. My lower back so of course now it hurts to stand and sit and stuff. VDC is ruining my life. And I don't even want to sit with the heating pad because it's so bloody hot outside anyway, and I feel like it would be dumb to be sitting inside, in the A/C, heating up my back.

I just finished reading Suite Francaise by Irene Nemirovsky, and I have to say that it was quite enjoyable. I really love her writing style, and I wish she had been able to finish it. If you are looking for something to read this summer that is not too fluffy, I would suggest this book. I was a bit worried because I had just read Night by Elie Wiesel, and wasn't sure I really wanted to read another book about WWII, since Night is pretty depressing. But Suite Francaise is about the German occupation of France, which I had never read anything about, and it was about how different people dealt with it, all through the social classes.

In other summer news, our pepper and tomato plants are slowly producing fruits. I took two orange cherry tomatoes off one this morning, and two super-hot peppers off another. I'm not sure why we got so many hot pepper plants - I don't even think we'll eat them. But the little tomatoes taste SOOOO good! Too bad we only get like two tomatoes every three weeks.

Like a Kitty Cat Rodeo

We have come upon a case of a Very Difficult Cat. This cat hates us. When we enter the apartment he hides, and if we try to dig him out of hiding he hisses and spits and growls and yowls.

This is not new for us - we take care of loads of nasty cats. I don't know what causes their attitude problems, and I don't know if they behave this way when their parents are at home, but we have lots of cats that hate us. We just feed them, clean their litter, check their plants, ignore the kitty and get the heck out of there. Once I was even cornered by a cat. He chased me into the bathroom, wherein I slammed the door in his face and promptly scooted out the door to the master bedroom.

But the Very Difficult Cat, you see, he needs the insulin. The insulin for the food processing and the living. So we can't ignore Very Difficult Cat because if we did, he would probably die. Or at the very least go into some kind of coma. (SB suggested it might not be so bad to let him go into the coma - at least then we could touch him without losing part of our arm). When I met VDC for the first time, his owner gave him his shot very quickly, after sneaking up on him, but then he was just a normal lovable cat. He let me pet him and everything. But now, as soon as he hears us coming up the stairs he hides. And then we have to dig Very Difficult Kitty out of his hiding spot, while trying not to lose an eye (we have at least purchased some protective gloves, because that first day was hard on my arm....) and inject him with his insulin. This is a two-man job. On the weekend SB helped me, and it was quite an experience, which I will describe at a later date.

Every visit (twice a day) as we go up the stairs, I ask SB "Do you want to wrangle or shoot?" He generally would say wrangle, and then after donning the gloves and preparing the Blanket of Terror (we lay it over kitty as a gentle restraint, but when he sees it coming he tries to kill it), he says, "aaah, I think I wanna shoot." And then we have to switch, and VDC gets all worked up while waiting for us to kill him, aka give him life-prolonging insulin. Generally he will pee at us as a last line of defense. Awesome.

All of this makes me think of how we would be as parents. I think we make a pretty great team - poo makes me vomit, but SB seems okay with it. I don't mind being bitten or scratched, and SB has a winning smile. I picture us trying to change a diaper on a squirmy toddler. Me gagging, SB trying to grab the feet. I think we have good instincts, but may have to fine-tune our technique a little. Hopefully we could teach a kid not to hide behind the toilet when it's time for their Triaminic.

For what may have been...

I'm not sure if this is true for everyone, but I have always had a few guys in my past who I have thought of with warmth, and always wondered "what would have happened if I'd ended up with him?" All great guys, all were great friends at the time, always had that little extra something between us, but the timing was never right, or whatever, and nothing ever happened. Or in some cases nothing much ever happened.


For me, there were probably less than a handful of guys who fit this criteria. Met them all in high school while I was in a relationship, we spents loads of time together in different capacities, and I have always wondered what would have happened.

Through the magic of The Internets, or more specifically, Facebook, these doors are slowly closing.

One boy seems to be a perpetual drifter - still just out there for the good times and not really that serious about much of anything. He still looks great, so that's a bonus, but I think I now require a little more character and go-getterism than I used to.

Another boy's looks have changed - not for the better. Now, I know no one is going to look like they did in high school, and I'm especially sensitive to The Weight Gain, as I have admittedly packed on more than a few since 1997. But this boy went in the opposite direction. He used to be cute, wasn't a big guy, but had great hair and a great smile. Now he looks like a heroine addict. Maybe he is.... And his hair is shaved off. Unless he's an actor with a part in Schindler's List, I think that daydream is done.

There are still a few who are not on Facebook, and although I would love to know what they're up to, I kinda hope they don't join. Because when I mentioned this decline in my long-lost possibilities, SB said, "well, I guess you're just going to have to learn that this is the best you're gonna get. You're stuck with me."

Yes, I guess that's what this means.

One thing to smile about.

One super fun thing that happened last week that I forgot to mention - my Mummy brought SB and I some super yummy lobster! We had a fabulous feast on Thursday evening, and it was AWESOME.

When I was little, I would only eat the "Little Legs" of the lobster - I liked to squish the meat out using my teeth. Then I graduated to eating those and claws, when they were properly cracked for me. I eventually was able to crack them myself. A few years ago I got over my phobia of eating the tail - the digestive tract runs along the top of the tail, and I was always terrified I would accidentally eat part of it and die. But now I am confident in my poop-peeling ability.

I still refuse to eat anything in the body/head of the lobster. SB tried to get me to dig into the meat on the side of the "ribs", but I kept getting these crunchy parts which really skeeved me. And don't get me started on the gross green stuff. Once I got all crazy and tried the red eggs, but quickly spit them out. So dry and gross they remind me of peas, which I HATE. Not that they taste like peas, but the texture is close.

I remembered the lobster feast this morning, and smiled. But I remembered it because I scratched my hands up breaking open the tail. And that memory was triggered by the fact that I spent the morning trying to give an insulin injection to a pissed off cat, who then scratched up my entire arm and hand, then shit in the closet.

I'm not loving my job so much this week.

and my head is still spinning...

well, what a week it has been, people. You can't even begin to imagine.

Last Wednesday, my Mummy arrived. Planned trip, that I had been quite looking forward to. I knew that I couldn't take time off, but that I could lighten my schedule a little. SB's parents had just left on Sunday, so we had two days to clean the house up a bit, and take care of the laundry and other stuff that had been dragging a bit while they were here.

We picked Mummy up Wednesday, brought her here to show her the new digs, and had a nice quiet evening in. Thursday she came with me while I walked my group, and we had another relaxing day.

Friday, we had booked a spa afternoon - she wanted to get her hair cut and colored, and wanted to get me a pedicure and haircut for my birthday. In the morning we did a few errands with SB, and on our way back home we got a call from one of our employees who we had sent to the mechanics for a check up of our Subaru. Huh, guess what? Subaru is dead. Some kind of fuel line problem that is expensive to fix, but that makes the car unsafe to drive. Huh. So, we go home, and SB meets her at the shop and gives her the Jetta, which has had a touchy transmission lately, but we hadn't been able to book it to be fixed, and SB has been driving it just fine.

Mummy and I leave for the spa - I asked SB if he would like to drive us so he can have the truck in case he needs it, but he says no. I leave him my cell phone, and ask him if he wants me to bring his in case he needs to reach me for something. He says no.

I have a great time with my hairdresser, talking about paint color choices, and other decorating stuff since she just moved as well. My pedicure is amazing, and the lady is halfway done applying polish when some other lady asks if I am me, then says I should call my boyfriend when I can. I immediately tense up, and the girl is still putting the applicator back in the bottle while I'm halfway out the door to find my Mummy and her phone.

Ya, so the Jetta died.

Died, like wouldn't run and had to be towed. SB had to bike over the mountain to get to the employee and the car so that we could use our Roadside assistance to tow it. So we have to start worrying about a game plan to get the Jetta fixed, and also be sure that our employee had a car. (Ultimately, we've decided to have the business buy the Jetta, and will use it as a doggy mobile. SB won't have a car for now. I think he's hating that already and it's been two days)

Saturday was my birthday, and Mummy and I spent the morning shopping at a street sale which was fun, except that my phone kept ringing every five seconds with either problems from our weekend employee or a client who I had "made myself available" for, and by "made myself available" I guess he thought that meant answer thirty phone calls in a day to get his travel status for his trip back to the city. We went home and had some downtime, and I thought I might have time for a little nap before dinner, but then the weekend girl called because she couldn't get into an apartment. I rushed over to see what the problem was and was able to get in in 2.7 seconds.

We arrived at dinner at 6:10 and were told it would be a three hour wait for our table of 8. I know that large parties are annoying for restaurants on a busy night. I know it's hard to estimate how long it will take. But people, if you don't take reservations, you need a better system than telling everyone "It'll be three hours" and hoping they walk out. I was almost in tears. This is my favorite restaurant, and my friends were on their way for 7 (in Emma-speak, though, that's 7:30-8), and it's my birthday and nothing is going right. Luckily, our favorite hostess was working, but just in the back, and she saw me and said she would look into it. We were seated at around 8:15 (**yes, I know, it's still 2 hours, but the rest of our party didn't arrive until about 8, so that's cool)

I don't even remember what we did on sunday right now. I think it was probably pretty fun. Or at least nothing broke that day.

Monday, started well, Mummy's last full day in town, so I tried to get all my work done in the morning so we could hang out later on. We picked up a rental car, since our employee was using our truck, and all the other cars are dead or dying. SB gets the Jetta to our mechanic so he can start repairing it. Get an email that my weekend girl is quitting.

We finished up Mummy's visit with a fun trip to the old Port for a nice dinner and caught a few Buskers.

So to recap:
1. Two cars died on Friday the 13th.
2. My birthday was almost a bust.
3. We lose another employee, albeit she has given us four weeks' notice, so hopefully we can make it work.
4. Poor Mummy barely had any fun her whole vacation.
5. Poor SB barely had any fun on his whole vacation - he's been "off" for two weeks - one of which his parents were here and he worked on the condo with his dad, some projects he had been planning. The second of which....he still wasn't done all the condo projects. And then two cars died. and then when he finally went back to work, he had to take the metro.

Ya, I think that's it. I think I should play the lotto this week, because good luck better be coming soon....

Wherein I beg someone to buy be something

In the past I have begged for a Nikon D40x. It is a digital SLR camera. A pretty basic model, but the key here is that it is a)an SLR and b)digital.

In 2000, I bought myself a 35mm SLR for Christmas. It was the first time I ever spent a ridicuous amount of money on anything for myself, and I fell in love with that camera. I took photos of everything, and learned a lot about the technicalities of photography - how do use aperture and shutter speeds to get the look you want. Then I had a crash course in developing black and whites, and fell completely in love with the whole deal. I took my camera to Europe with me and shot about 20 rolls of film, hauled them back, paid for developing, and absolutely loved about 90% of the shots I took.

Then came the digital age. No more economy of shots, no more lugging around of film, no more waiting in line at the photo counter. Just pictures pictures pictures. My mom bought us our first, fabulous digital camera which took great photos, and had lots of fabulous options. Then it got stolen. Then we replaced it with something similar. And it was equally great and convenient and the pictures, they were there, on the computer. Ready for uploading and the photoshop, if either of us were photoshop savvy. For a point and shoot, both of these digitals have treated us very well, and given us some really great results.

But yesterday I broke out the old 35mm SLR. Even just looking through the lens, I can see the difference. I snapped out 11 whole photos before I started worrying that I was taking too many and put it away for another day. And I just know that when I finish the film, and find a photo developing place that's close, and wait in line, and deposit the film, and then drive back an hour later and pick up the photos and CD (because really, all I want is the CD so I can UPLOAD), I know that those are gonna be amazing photos.

But you know what would be even more amazing? If I had taken them with a Nikon D40x and was able to upload them 10 seconds after taking them. And was able to erase the bad ones from history immediately. And could take as many photos as I wanted and not have to pay to develop them if I didn't want. Ever.

please please please please please buy me a Nikon D40x. Or even a D40.

I saw The White Stripes last night!!!

They still amaze me!

They started their set super hardcore with Blue Orchid, then Icky Thump, then after that it was all a blur. I remember some Cold Cold Night, We're Gonna Be Friends, hints of I Think I Smell a Rat, Black Math (my favorite WS song EVER). Their encore was Hardest Button, I Just Don't Know What to Do With Myself, and Seven Nation.

I know last time I saw them I retracted my professed love of Jack White, and professed my undying love for Meg. But I take that back again. He's hot people. Just accept it. Of course last time he had a crusty mustache (the Crustache), so it took away some of the appeal. And while Meg is certainly quite an attractive little lady with amazing arms and boobs, sometimes while she's drumming her drums, her hair covers her face and she reminds me of the chick from The Ring.

I must also say that Jack White must be an extraordinary lover. At least, if his seduction of a crowd is any indication. He teases with a few bars of one song, then swings you into another one until you forget what he had worked you up to because what came next was so great. He did this a lot with I Think I Smell a Rat. They also did this extremely hot drum sequence at the end where Jack set aside his guitars, got behind Meg and pounded away (at the drums, you dirty people), but was kinda nuzzling her neck. Hot. They took extra long to come out for the encore, and I'm pretty sure it's because they were making out. Okay, probably not, but that's what I was imagining was going on.

I promptly came home and made sure my sister was able to get tickets for their show this week in Moncton. She cannot miss them.

If you want to see photos and some crappy video, and you are my friend, go check out my facebook page.

In desperate need of a day off

So, I'm tired. Almost burned out, I would say. And not that I've even probably been working THAT hard, but it's just like a ten times faster pace than I'm used to, for like ten times more days in a row than I'm used to. But I'm still tired.

The in-laws are visiting this week, and then my Mummy comes next week (yaY!). In a week it's my birthday, so I'm pretty excited Mummy will be here to meet my friends when we go for dinner. Tomorrow night is the White Stripes concert (WOOHOOOOOOO!!!), and next Tuesday we're seeing Tool (I bought SB tickets for his birthday).

Work was pretty busy there for a few weeks, but now we are back to full-staff, so it's a bit smoother. Except for one pesky client who is being REALLY annoying. They always surface at the most annoying times.

The condo is still coming together - SB is going to put up the chair rail in the dining room tomorrow, we have to finish painting the kitchen, and then we need to buy our furniture. We have picked out a dining set, but we are still completely unsure about which sofa style we want, what color is best, etc.

My first day off in two weeks will be on Saturday, so I'm pretty stoked about that.

Ooh, and I ordered books from Chapters on Friday and they arrived today - not bad considering there was a holiday in there. I love ecommerce.

Not sure what I was thinking in the first place

Yesterday I trekked to IKEA Montreal to buy a laundry hamper and some clothes hangers. They did not have the hamper that I wanted, and I was sad. But, when I checked online it said that IKEA Boucherville had them in stock. Boucherville is completely out of the way for me, but I really wanted these hampers and REALLY didn't want to go to IKEA on Saturday. So, I decided to make a fun South Shore shopping trip out of it. After going to Boucherville, (where I got my hampers - woohoo) I decided to "stop" at Promenades St. Bruno. These could nearly be construed as "on my way home" if they weren't so not actually on my way home at all. But whatever, there is a Gap and a Banana Republic, a Starbucks and a Jugo Juice.

As I pulled into the parking lot, my gas light came on. I actually noticed it, which is a big bonus since I rarely see it and it doesn't have a bell indicator. I did my little shopping trip (bought a new pair of summer pants and a tank top), and got back in the car to leave. I figured I would drive through the parking lot away from the highway I drove in on and would probably find a gas station. I completely circled the entire mall, no gas stations in sight. I took the next road out, still no gas stations and it brought me back in a complete circle to where I had started. So, I got on a secondary highway heading back into the city. Surely there would be an exit with a gas station close by.

I took the first exit, into a town that I recognized the name of, drove for like ten minutes, and still no gas station.

FINALLY I found a gas station. I pulled up, went to do the Pay at the Pump, and found that it was not in fact a Pay at the Pump, but one of the old spinning number pumps. That you have to lift the lever to get it to work. Which took me a second to figure out since I haven't seen one of those pumps since 1987. Then I had to wait in line for 10 minutes while everyone in front of me paid for their gas and 8 million lotto tickets.

What is the moral of this story, you may ask?

Stay away from the South Shore. And if you have to go, do not go alone. They want us to run out of gas so they can mug us of our high-tech technologies, like digital watches.

A girl just needs her MTV

When we moved almost two months ago, we switched from Starchoice satellite to Videotron, our local digital cable company. I was very sad about the switch, because Starchoice had always been very good to us - great service in general with very few interruptions, fantastic customer service when we had questions or problems, and it was just a very good experience in all. But, cable was cheaper for almost all the same channels because we bundled it with phone and internet. When I called to cancel our Starchoice, Eric said it sounded like I was breaking up with someone. And I felt like I was.

Our new cable company has been pretty good so far too - our last experience with cable was terrible, but at that point it wasn't digital groovy cable, it was just regular plain old cable. Programming-wise, we no longer had time-shifting, the Documentary channel, or MTV. Halfway through the first month, I was annoyed that a lot of my shows were conflicting, so I called and signed up for time-shifting for $3 a month. Then all the shows were done, and time-shifting wasn't useful anymore.

But you know what is useful? All the time? Especially on Saturday and Sunday when you are doing laundry and chores and like a little background noise that is actually entertaining?

MTV!!!

I SOOOOO missed MTV for the past two months. I especially love the MTV Canada VJs who crack me up, (especially Jessie and Dan). And the Real World. And My Super Sweet Sixteen. And Run's House. And....... Everything!!!

So I finally went online (now that we finally got a bill with our account number on it) and dumped stupid Time-Shifting, and added back MTV. And I also threw in the Documentary Channel so SB would stop whining.

Hopefully this will make Saturday Chores more palatable.

All hail the Queen of Craigslist

I love craigslist. In the past week I've sold two sofas. And now I have offers on a dresser I posted two hours ago. It's pretty fabulous. I think it helps that we have some pretty great stuff to get rid of, and we take pretty good care of it. I haven't even had to negotiate at all, they just take my price and go. I love it. I'm thinking of selling The Woodge.

We have painted our dining room/hall and our living room. All that's left is the kitchen. But I've had enough of the priming and taping and rolling and removing the faceplates, then replacing the faceplates, and the cleaning of the brushes. So I told Eric he is solely responsible for the kitchen. I'm sure at some point I'll break down and do it myself, since he's been so busy lately with work.

Saturday we bought all the flowers and plants for our patio and potted them. I'm not so into plants, but Eric let me buy a bunch of herbs and tomatoes and stuff, and I find those interesting enough. I hate plants with no flowers, so that was another requirement. Once we have finished installing all the pot-hangers I'll take a photo to share.

Completely unrelated, there is a TLC marathon of Little People Big World. I can't look away.

The worst part is that during all the painting and crap, it was beautiful and sunny outside. Then yesterday we took the day off, and although it turned out okay, it started with a deluge.

Taking a moment

I've had a non-stop week. I can accept that - I had things planned, stuff I wanted to get done around the house like vacuuming, painting, bathing, you know, those kinds of things. But we're busy, so I haven't had a chance.

But how does my busy day start today?

A dog peed on my foot.

I had consultation with a new client, and the dog was excited and jumping everywhere, and he peed on my shoed foot. Then he peed on my little clipboard/binder thingy that I love, and I had to throw out half its contents. And all day all I could smell was pee, even after I changed my socks and washed my feet. So gross.

Hurricane Summertime

So, apparently last Thursday was the first day of our busy season. No one called to inform me that Busy Season would be starting a few weeks early. But whatever. Thanks for that.



I really enjoy meeting people who really care about their pets. That's probably the thing I like the most about this time of year - people who want us to visit their cat twice a day even though Fluffy is terrified and hides under the bed the whole time leaving us to do our little chores and then just hang out. I love those people. And not just because they are great customers who believe in using professional sitters instead of asking Great Aunt Joan to come by. Great because they love their pets, and are fun, and they appreciate us. So that's one thing I love about this time of year - cause right now I'm getting calls left and right for new client meetings, and it's actually pretty exciting.

Aside from that, this is a crazy time of year. Full of cancellations, vacations for staff (theoreticaly before the Busy Season - thanks for coming early Busy Season!), last minute additions, last minute key drop-offs/pick-ups, and I'm sure we will end up with some kind of vehicular issue. Last year during this time we were taking over the business (one year today - woohoo!), having a few, hmm, staffing issues, and generally just trying to get our legs beneath us before the whole thing took off without us. After a year, I feel we are chugging along pretty nicely. We've tried all kinds of different promotional stuff to get growing, gotten to know lots of other great service providers, and come up with a pretty fabulous group of ladies for our team. I feel pretty great. I think we are far from finished growing, and I'm so happy doing this job.



So, let this be a lesson - all it takes to be happy in life is:

a)doing something you hate for long enough

b) doing something you think you can live with, but realize you can't

c) losing your mind

d) a stroke of luck finding your dream job

e) another stroke of luck to be able to take over the company of that dream job and be your own boss.



That's it. Easy recipe, huh?

Sweaty and disappointed

That pretty much sums up my Sunday.

SB and I spent the WHOLE DAY painting - and we have only finished the hall and dining room. I hate masking tape. And I hate cleaning paint brushes. And I hate teetering on a kitchen chair trying to reach that one little spot with a brush that's a bit too big, but if I just bend my body in an ess and reach my arm up over my head like that I will be able to reach just right......ah crap, I got paint on the ceiling. And the sweating - bucketloads. Even with the air conditioning on full-blast. I must say, I was very pleased with the behavior of our pets, though. Nary a one of them stepped in any paint tray, nor did they rub their head/ears/butt/tail on the walls. Simon hid out most of the day, Gabby cowered in fear in the bedroom, and The Woodge (aka Charlie) relished in state-sanctioned time on the bed. I peeled off the masking tape this morning, and re-installed all the switch plates. There are a few touch-ups here and there, but overall I think we could start our own painting business. If doing so wouldn't cause me to have a full-on nervous breakdown.

Now that we no longer live out there, you know, on the East End, where no one goes, ever, people are around us and our pets more often. And they ask, why do you call Charlie "Woodgie". The answer: we aren't really sure. We used to call him Woofie, because when he woofs it's really deep and obnoxious. Then it just morphed into Woodgie. And I love to call him The Woodge. So, you may be seeing his name as The Woodge.

Last but not least, after bathing myself, we watched the final episode of The Sopranos. I, like pretty much every other human on earth, was pretty disappointed in the finale. I, also like every other human on earth, thought the cable had cut out, and I already had my pen out to write a strongly worded letter when the credits started to roll. WTF? I was so ticked. Thank goodness I had SB, who, in a moment of clarity, became extremely philosophical. "Well, Tony just said we need to look back on the good times...so no matter what happens, ever, we need to see that his life won't ever change. He'll always have to be looking over his shoulder, dealing with this crap. Right?" Oh, SB. I love you so. I'm still not happy, but I feel a bit less ripped-off. Things I did love:
1- Phil getting whacked
2 - Tony trying to get a free psych visit out of AJ's therapist
3 - Paulie and the cat
4 - Tony visiting Uncle June - loved loved loved this scene.

So now we wait for the movie - it took 19 months at a time between seasons, so I'm sure by the time I'm 87 it will come out.

Color color everywhere

The saga continues with the paint selection process. When we bought the place it was painted in oranges, peaches, yellows. Our floors are oak/honey. We do not have a sofa yet, but have several options that are tentative, and all are either mossy browns/mocha/beige colored. Our TV furniture and coffee table are dark brown, as will be our dining table.

Do you know how hard it is to pick out one or two blues and a tan/beige????? I brought home ten sample chips last week, thinking SB wanted grey with a blue tinge, but it turns out he wanted blue with a grey tinge. And which walls will be painted dark blue, and which will be light? and where will the tan be painted? And should we use a light and a dark tan combined on different walls in the dining room and hall? And don't even get me started on the kitchen and bathroom.

I'm also trying to sell our old sofas/sofa bed. I love craigslist. I have already had two people who would like to see the sofa. It helps that it's an IKEA sofa so people know it's ok quality and you can buy different colored slipcovers if you feel like it. Hopefully I can get rid of that. Maybe I'll sell off Charlie while I'm at it.

I can't wait for this weekend as it is Ems' birthday celebration - woohoo! It's at a bring your own wine restaurant, so you know it's going to get crazy! Still have to pick up her gift, but today my errand was to pick up more paint chips. Tomorrow can be present day.

The day my world crashed down around me

Today I realized that I am not, in fact, the lost love child of Martha Stewart and Cormac McCarthy.

Can I write? I like to think I can, and I really love it, so check.

Those are all the McCarthy traits. Oh, and my reclusiveness.

Can I bake? Hells ya. Check.
Can I cook a presentable dinner for 2-6? I have been known to, so check.
Can I keep a clean house? I have been working my ass off since we moved, and finally have a bit of a routine, so yes. Check.
Am I handy? Just spackled, patched, and sanded all the GIGANTIC ASS craters the previous owners left. Also was able to jimmy our storage shed when SB had a little accident involving the lock and a rolled up rug on the weekend. Also figured out how to un-install one of our kitchen cabinets while SB and his friend spent a minimum of ten minutes trying to push/hammer/pull it out. So, Check on the handy thing.
Can I decorate?

Um.....

I don't think I can decorate!!!

Paint color choosing has proved to be about as much fun as pulling out my toenails. And don't get me started on how many conversations/arguments SB and I have had about choosing a new sofa. At least we have a dining set pretty much firmed up, although I'm sure in a week SB will decide he has changed his mind. Or the one we have chosen won't match whatever color we finally settle on, and the whole thing will have to go back in the mix again to figure out what's more important - the perfect color or the perfect dining set. Grrrrr.

On the bright side, the dishwasher that came with this place, that on the outside looks like a giant steaming heap of crap, is actually really fabulous. It is fast. And the dishes come out nice and squeaky and super dry. It could be quieter. And it definitely could be prettier. But man are our dishes clean.

Happy Thursday!

I just finished eating a ridiculously disgusting number of tacos. Homemade, with tons of veggies, but tacos none the less. Yum. The even more disgusting part? I would eat another one right now if SB hadn't been giving me weird looks that suggested he may leave my ass if I took one more bite.

For lunch today I had Subway, which I haven't had in a while. I was pretty excited, until the girl asked what I wanted.

"A 6" Spicy Italian on Brown.

She turned around to grab the bread, but grabbed the Italian bread.

- No, brown bread please.

She smiled and mumbled okay, grabbed a brown bread, then cut the bread, then asked what kind of meat I wanted.

- The Spicy Italian.

- You said you wanted brown

- Yes, brown bread, but Spicy Italian sub.

This confused her, so she called over one of her cohorts.

- Spicy Italian please.

- That's a kind of bread.

- No....I'm pretty sure it's a sandwich. It's listed right there under the BMT - see - on the menu there...

They both stared blankly at me, then called over another cohort.

- Can I have a Spicy Italian sandwich please?

- Sure....

Then he went on to explain it to the two other dimwits.

The rest of my sandwich construction went okay, until it came time for the sauce.

- Mayo please

Another blank stare.

- Mayonnaise? Mayo.....

Still staring blankly, then she calls over smart guy who knew what sub I was talking about and told him she couldn't understand what sauce I wanted. He looked at me.

- Mayo - I would like to have mayo."

He turned to her, and I sweart to god, said "Mayo." And then she put mayo.

Off my meds again...

Thus, randomness abounds. Sorry about that, but I keep finding myself thinking of millions of funny little things a day.

My whole life I hated mayonnaise. I'm not sure why, but for about 25 years the very sight of it skeeved me. When I worked at McDonald's I refused to make the McLobster without rubber gloves on because I didn't want to get any of the lobster/mayo mixture on my hands. I was lost and starving at many many many functions because people serve two things at gatherings for lots of people: macaroni/potato salads and chicken/egg salad finger sandwiches. I ate a hell of a lot of crudite.

Then, three years ago I suddenly got over it. I think it was the appeal of the yummy greasy Moe's french fries served alongside the mayo, but I gave mayo a try. Now I have been spending the last three years trying all kinds of things I previously wouldn't eat. Here are some things I have been particularly enjoying:
1) egg salad sandwiches - I eat about two a week. So good.
2) fries and mayo - nuff said
3) fries and flavored mayo from Frite Alors, the Belgian fry place down the street.
4) McChicken sandwich, which I previously ate with only ketchup, but which is so much better with mayo
5) Wendy's Bad Burger (aka Big Bacon Classic) - I used to order the regular burger with only ketchup. This is way better.


All of this to say, I think I have deduced how that extra 15 pounds crept up on me.

Things I am pondering today

- it's amazing how long it takes to get used to the fridge door opening the other way, after having it one way for over five years.

-it's amazing how dull you will let your little mini milk bag cutter get. The old green one worked more like a hack saw by the end of it. The new one slices right through. Great $1 investment.

-why do my allergies make my feet itch? Why, oh why?

-do dogs get headaches?

-I always thought the very definition of a burrito was that it had refried beans in it. Tortilla, beans, meat = good. This weekend at Taco Bell I found they serve some of them with rice instead of beans. Am I the only one who finds this disturbing?

It's hot out there!

Wowie, I can't believe it's May! Two days in a row of hot hot summertime days. Woohoo. Except I've been kinda busy cleaning the house and doing the laundry. But I was still able to spend a few hours each day just sittin' outside. Chillin'. Well, not really chillin', because it's hot. But you know.

This weekend is Ems's birthday. Happy Birthday Ems!!! I forget when we're celebrating, but I think it's sometime around Christmas. Because that's when everyone can finally get together. But Happy Birthday now, until then!!!

Also, SB's bro's birthday was yesterday and guess what? We're celebrating at the Keg tomorrow night!!! WooHooo!!! Haven't been to the Keg in a while, because of that pesky mortgage we have now, so I really can't wait. When I got the email invite, I literally squealed. Which made Charlie raise his eyebrows at me in that way he does when he's thinking of eating my toes.

I've been trying to do some writing this week. That's right people, actually writing. My chosen career path. It's really hard. When did it get so hard? The problem isn't the actual writing, it's the fact that I have about 300 ideas in my head for stuff I'd like to work on, and I try to start one thing, but keep thinking about the other thing, so I put one thing aside, and work on the other thing for a bit, then get more ideas about one thing.

That's all for now peeps. I'm trying to update more often, because it annoys me when people never update, and then I realized, hey wait a minute, I never update. So now I'm updating. And if it's crappy, I don't want to hear about it.

That sh*t is funny!

Have you seen this? It's so wrong. And yet, also, so funny. Just the way I like it.

What about this? That's just funny. What can be wrong about that?

So, as you can see, I haven't been up to too much. I am a little scared to undertake any major tasks, projects or responsibilities because I'm terrified of what will go wrong when I do so. So I'm just keepin' on keepin' on, as they say.

We did some dog sitting this weekend, which we don't generally do, but I was feeling generous and the price was right. Our little houseguest, Chester, was very sweet, and very quiet, so basically the opposite of Charlie. The only thing that was slightly annoying was his obsession with our cat, and Simon's subsequent hatred of Chester. I've never heard Simon growl before, but there he went growling. Growling from the top of the kitchen cabinets. Growling on the sofa table. Growling from the top of SB's head at 3:30 in the morning.

TV season is wrapping up, which is sad, but also good because we all know I am a slave to TV, so maybe now I will actually leave the house once in a while. There are tons of fun things to do in our new neighborhood, and I can't wait to participate. There's a dog park right up the street, where our dogs can go and not interact with other dogs, but waddle from person to person to see if anyone has any spare cheese. And, how convenient is it that there is a fantastic fromagerie right down the street?

If only I knew a guy...

The Sopranos has three episodes left. In the last few eps, we have seen Tony struggling with a gambling addiction, which I thought was a bit random because they have shown him gambling maybe once in the past. But whatever, he kept losing and losing and losing, but couldn't stop gambling. This past episode showed Tony get into a car crash with another main character (I don't want to wreck it for those of you who haven't seen it yet), and other main character had become a point of concern for Tony. So instead of calling 911 right away, Tony covered Main Character's nose and let him choke to death on his own blood (in Tony's defence, it wasn't looking too good for Main Character anyway).

After this, there are funerals, etc, and then Tony takes a trip alone to Vegas. He puts down a chip in roulette and wins. Then wins again four times in a row. His conclusion is that Main Character was a drain to him, a curse, vexing him to have continued bad luck. But now that he's gone, Tony's luck has changed.

My question?

Who do I have to get bumped off to have some good luck for once?

On Friday, our business van died. Dead. Towed away and scrapped. This, not even two months after our computer died. Not even two weeks after Hiring Fiasco 2007. We have a new used van now, and hopefully the other business vehicle will keep on keepin' on, but it has never looked good for that one, so chances are slim it will make it through the summer.

Other than that, things are lovely. We are dog sitting for one of our clients this weekend, so keep your fingers crossed that it will go well!

Ever the optomist

This morning is Regis and Kelly's Mom's Dream Come True show. Total tear-fest - sad stories, hardships, reunions, community activism, etc.

While enjoying my coffee and fighting off tears (two people deployed to Iraq miraculously brought back to thank their sister for taking care of their little boy for over a year while they are fighting a war - come on, who can keep a dry eye for that?), there was a story about a woman who has adopted 8 special needs kids.

Not like missing a toe kids, kids who are in wheelchairs for life, with severe brain damage. Blind kids. Stuff like that.

And while her town was following her around as she picked up all her gifts from Regis and Kelly, I found myself thinking "She must get a giant benefit cheque from the government..."

This leads me to believe two things:
a) I am going straight to hell
b) I watch WAY too much Law and Order

You know what curiousity does...

I have a problem. But, after having a fun conversation with friends, I don't think it's that uncommon.

I become interested/obsessed with cultures/religions that I have no knowledge of.

For instance, Mormons. I started reading dooce's blog a while ago, and became interested in Mormons. Why won't they drink coffee? Why do some take many wives, and some don't? How do they get around that law-wise? You know, just general questions. Then the show Big Love came on and I became obsessed with knowing more. Scratch that. Wondering more. I will rarely google Mormons. But when SB had clients from Utah, we each wondered if they had a few sister wives at home.

Where I work, there is a large community of Hassidic Jews. I'm obsessed with knowing about them. Them, I do google. I see them every day, I want to know what's up with the hats, and the wigs, and the no touching the stove on Sabbath. In relation to the stove thing, I was working a day with one of the employees, and while I was dropping off some dogs, she was in the car waiting. One of the Hassidic wives came out and asked her if she could come in the house and turn the stove down. They aren't allowed to touch the stove, but they still use the stove on the Sabbath and get other people to turn it on/adjust the temperature. (Isn't that kinda cheating?) When I came out and the employee told me this, I was aghast "and you didn't GO IN????"

So, all of that to say, I am very curious about other cultures and religions. I want to know all about their tights and curls, and 10 million children and multiple wives and abstinence from caffeine. But I'm always worried that it will come off the wrong way, and be offensive. So I never ask the questions. Although, I don't really know any Mormons, and Hassidic men are notorious for ignoring women (apparently it's disrespectful to their wives...). But if I did, I'm still not sure I'd ask.

Anyone else feel like their head is splitting in half?

I used to think I was the only one, but tons of bloggers that I read regularly are complaining of the same problem.





Chronic Sinusitis.





I never had a problem with my sinuses until my first year in university, when I go the mother of all sinus infections. I thought I was dying. I laid on the sofas in the common TV room for three days before I could go to the clinic (of course I got sick on a Friday night...). And ever since, I have been blessed with sinusitis about 3 times a year.





My nose is not runny. My throat is fine. I don't have a fever. I just feel like someone has shot golfballs up my nose into my sinuses.





I take allergy medicine. I take decongestants. I take pain reliever. Even my friend NyQuil isn't so helpful. It was so bad last night, it was waking me up. It is seriously affecting my enjoyment of our new place.





I'm thinking of trying this:

Anybody else done it?

I'M ALIVE - I SWEAR, I'M ALIVE!!!

Hey all!!!! Here I am!!! Right here!!! Behind all these boxes!!!

The move went well on Friday - although I'm starting to wish that we had hired unpackers instead of movers. Between sleeping, finding someone to hire, having them tell us they found another job, trying to establish my wireless connection, unpacking, putting together furniture, and trying not to strangle my dogs who become needy little wusses when we move, I find myself still buried in boxes. Good thing our place is so much bigger than the other place.

I am starting to really hate hiring people. People in general are the bane of my existence and make me want to cut off my leg and beat myself in the head with it, but finding someone to work with is particularly horrendous, as it turns out. We always said how lucky we have been finding people, and it turns out we have been. Because now it's a big fat suck.

The problem is, I like routine. I like when things stay the same, and run along smoothly and everything is sunny and right in the world. And the past month has been nothing like that. Not even a little bit. But I'm plugging along.

Whipped

I am still alive. At least for now. We'll see how I feel tomorrow morning. I walked all day, which was semi-fun, but had its stressful moments (another dog ran away today - we found her, but I'm starting to develop a complex - they only run away on me!). I think the worst thing today happened this morning. I was walking a dog who is really sweet, but not reliable off-leash. We had a very nice walk, sniffing the trees and leaves that have surfaced since the nice melt last week. (Mmmm you know the smell...mmmmm), and I was thinking, awe doggy, you aren't so bad, you get a bad rap. I love you.

Then we saw a little Jack Russell terrier, and Doggy is okay with other dogs, so I thought "let's say hi." Doggy said hi nicely, sniffed nicely, all very nice, then he go SOOOO EXCITED. I've never seen him so excited. It was like he found a bone made of roast beef. And chicken. And cat poo. Anyway, he was spinning and spinning and jumping and spinning like some kind of doggy dervish.

Long story short, I think I dislocated my shoulder. But I'm only starting to feel it now because of the madness of the rest of the day. Tomorrow, I may be dead.

Some quick updates

A week and a half until we move. I'm starting to get slightly stressed, although it probably has more to do with the insane amounts of computer issues we have been having. I finally ordered all our phone/cable, etc today, and now just have to finish packing (still throwing out tons of stuff each garbage day). Work has been pretty good- although one of our full-timers is leaving, we found a really great girl who we're really excited to be hiring. That's a load off, but there is still the training to do, which is always complicated. We'll get through it!

Computer-wise, after getting all the data recovered, we decided it was time to get a new computer. I can't say I was that upset with this outcome - I've been wanting to switch to a laptop since we bought the business. However, I was not that excited to get Windows Vista, and it turns out I was right.

This operating system bites the big one.

Not one of the programs we have loaded with it has been fully functional - MSOffice, Acrobat, Blackberry software, Simply Accounting. You know, just all the programs we need to be a functional small business. I have spent the last three days randomly testing different things and surfing the internet trying to find solutions. I'm ready to tear my hair out. Basically, Bill Gates isn't satisfied with ruling the universe, he now just wants to fuck with people and so has made an OS that will only work with like four programs, all of which were launched at the same time as Vista, and all of which cost about a billion dollars.

But it is very pretty.

A bit more calm, I guess

So, the idiot tech guy did nothing for me. Nothing! We dropped the computer off on Monday night at 5:30 and were told the tech guy would be there Tuesday at 10am. At 11am I called to get a progress report and was told the tech guy was on a service visit, and then would be taking lunch, and would be back at 1.

At 1, I tried to call to get an update. I got put on hold for 10 minutes. I hung up and drove over to the store. It took them 20 minutes to send someone to tell me that the tech guy still wasn't back yet. I asked if he had looked at the computer before he left. It took them 10 minutes to find my computer, bring it out, and tell me no one had looked at it yet. Where is the tech guy? I asked. "At lunch, he will be back in five minutes" It's 1:30, I was told he would be back from lunch at 1. "Yes, 1 is when he is usually back" Then how do you know he will be back in five minutes, when he is already half an hour late? "Five, maybe ten minutes, he will be back". Can you call him and see when he will really be back? "No. Five, ten minutes he will be back." Give me my computer.

So, then I'm stressed out AND pissed off.

I get home and SB says that maybe their work tech guy could take a look at it, but he can only come by late afternoon and we will maybe have the data back the next day. This is better than nothing, but my schedule is still not done and I don't know if I've forgotten any Tuesday appointments.

Then I get a facebook message from Ems's Brian: I hear you're having computer problems...

I call him up. He graciously offers to take a look at it, and at the very least he'll hopefully be able to retrieve our data.

Two hours later, I'm home and able to work from my mac. We've decided the old computer is pretty much a write off. I just don't trust it anymore, so don't feel like paying to fix whatever the problem is (it will now start up, run okay for like five minutes, then randomly shut down...) just to have it break down again in a month. So, while we save/figure out where to get money for a new one, we will use mine and SB's computers.

And for the record, Brian Williams is a data extraction guru.

So much stress

I haven't been this stressed in a while. I'm generally a very easy-going person, especially now that I'm back on my meds. But, last week we had some major work done on our Jetta, and then we had some work done on the work van. One of our full time girls gave her notice and will be leaving next month - we're sad. But, I'm glad she gave plenty of notice cause it makes finding someone a bit less stressful. And then our sale was finalized for the condo, which is not stressful, but very exciting - we have our closing in two weeks. Then yesterday our work computer wouldn't turn on and I hadn't done the schedules for this week yet, so I'm hoping that I didn't forget anyone. And I'm hoping that the stupid tech guy can fix it and have it back to me by this afternoon.

Other than that, things are great. We keep throwing out at least three bags full of garbage twice a week, just of stuff that's been sitting around that we're ready to chuck. Or shread. Phone bills from 2001 anyone?

The Sopranos had a GREAT first episode - there was just enough snippets to update us on some of the other characters, but also a good juicy plot.

This week is more packing and cleaning. People are starting to visit the apartment tonight, so we have to actually keep some semblance of normalcy to help our landlady get the place rented. She shouldn't have a problem, it's a pretty great place.

Probably my best discovery in a while - Simon would disagree

Have you ever gotten a little baby kitten, and he's so cute and puffy, and sweet. And then he grows up, and still so cute, and it's time to chop off his balls, and you're okay with that, but they also ask if you want him declawed, and you then face the eternal moral dilemma.

Yes, yes I would love to have him declawed. And my furniture would love it too. But I'm not sure I could live with myself knowing my kitty had been robbed of his claws and first knuckles forever. With no hope of defending himself if he ever escaped. Or for that matter, no hope of defending himself from an ever-grumpy Basset Hound who would later come into his life and become his eternal nemesis.

So you don't have him declawed, and you feel good about it. Until it's 4am and he's sharpening his claws on the wooden doors of your $500 wardrobe. Then you don't feel so good.

I have become increasingly anxious about the claw situation (and other situations too, but don't worry, I'm back on my meds) because we are moving soon (have ya heard?) and are probably getting a bunch of new furniture which we would prefer to not have scratched up. Then I found this.

Cue the angels singing and sunshine through the clouds from above.

These are the best things ever. Guilt-free. Easy to put on (although Simon doesn't love having them put on, it only takes about five minutes to apply them, and five minutes for them to set). And, if your cat is a boy and is really pissing you off, you can get back at him by buying the pink ones. I highly recommend them.

Things I hate about the Food Network

1 - Rachel Ray's accent - it's out of control. She moved from the midwest like ten million years ago - that accent should be fading out by now.

2 - Ina Garten's breathing - I know they keep the mikes really sensitive on these cooking shows, so you can hear all the fun food sounds (which also gross me out - especially when they are mixing up really gloppy foods), but I really could go without hearing the Barefoot Contessa's heavy breathing while still reaping the benefits of learning how to make a great rack of lamb.

3 - Giada DeLaurentis' giant cranium. Can that girl's head get any larger? really? She's like a Barbie doll, or no, one of those Bratz dolls that they have now. Tiny little mini-body, HUGE GIGANTIC HEAD.

A friend of ours

Things are moving into second gear in the whole "moving" thing. We picked up some boxes on the weekend, so I can start packing up (yay!), we did our home inspection on Saturday, which let us know that a) our place is too new to have any problems and b) our place was constructed well, so there are no foreseeable problems other than normal wear and tear. Last night SB met with our landlady to let her know we will not be renewing our lease - she was actually really sad and said that we are her best tenants.

Trying to decide now what furniture we will keep and what we will sell. Anybody wanna buy a Leksvik 7 drawer chest? $100.

I haven't had much time lately to think of things other than work and moving, and I know TV is not much more exciting to hear about, but YAY the Sopranos are coming back in two weeks! I've been watching the re-runs of part one of season six, and I know it didn't air that long ago, but I had totally forgotten all of the crazy stuff that happened at the end of Part I. I think I was so sad that we were left hanging that I had totally blocked out the good stuff.

- Phil Leotardo is in the hospital with a heart attack and Tony goes to him for a truce - SO HUGE
- AJ starts a relationship with a Puerto Rican who has a kid. And he's working in construction. Before he met the girl, I thought it was only a matter of time before he got mobbed up. Then when he started seeing her, I thought he was safe. Then at the end, when he's talking to them about buying her necklace at the mall and Christopher is like "you should have asked me, I know a guy" I was like - yikes, AJ is totally getting made!
- Meadow is in California - something bad has to happen, because she is altogether too happy, and Finn is the one who ratted on Vito and I think that will end up coming back somehow.
- Carmela's spec house is supposed to distract her from searching for Adriana, but I think she is going to find out that Tony had her whacked.
- I WANT FURIO TO COME BACK

So much stuff! anyway, if you've never watched before, then I guess it's kinda late to get into it, but I highly suggest getting all the DVDs and watching.

Adventures in psychopharmaceuticals

I have been taking meds for about 18 months. They keep me from crying in the pharmacy, in my car, and when I run out of Cheetohs. My doctor said we would try them for a year or so, and then wean me off slowly and see how it goes. When I got back from vacation, I had about 14 pills left, and then one refill.

I decided to wean off, convinced I am now happy, and well-adjusted, and fabulous, so why do I need this crutch? I started by taking half a pill a day, then every two days, then not at all. I haven't taken any meds for about a month now.

I thought it was going really great - not one phone commercial had made me cry, I wasn't feeling exhausted all the time (that was one of my major symptoms when I first went on meds - I was just constantly tired. I think I would have stayed in bed all day for a week if it had been allowed.) But then I noticed something.

Sometimes I would find myself acting like I was on speed. Things would blurt out of my mouth before they even popped into my head. All the time. I've been almost manic, just talking and talking and talking. I found myself at a client meeting wondering how I had gotten off on a tangent about dog diarrhea. The other night while watching TV with SB I kept cracking him up with all the random one-liners I kept throwing at him.

So, while I'm glad that I no longer want to crawl into my bed and sleep for a month, I don't think this new behavior is quite acceptable either. At least I am functional, but I don't trust myself to open my mouth, for fear of what will come out of it.

I'll go see the doctor next week and see what he thinks. Not sure if I will go back on my old meds or get something new, but in the meantime I'm thinking of taking my routine on the road.

A full closet be not a good closet

Before Christmas I did a closet clean-out and piled two garbage bags full of clothes that I haven't worn for...well some of them I've had since high school. It felt good, and a bit melancholic as well. My closet and drawers were jam-packed full, but a lot of the stuff that I was donating was just slightly too small for me (or a lot too small, depending what era of my life it originated in), and I couldn't help but thinking that I could get some use out of it if I would just lose that ten pounds (or 20, or 30...)

Now that we are moving (yay yay yay), it's time to do a full purge of all of our stuff. We have stuff that I haven't seen since we moved it from Lennoxville five years ago. That stuff has to go.

Yesterday was Closet Day, and I cleaned out mine and SB's closet, and all of our dressers. We ended up with three more garbage bags of clothes to donate, and one garbage bag of garbage - torn, ripped, gross clothes that no one would want. And underwear. Who wants 2nd hand underwear? Where did all this stuff come from?

Today is Magazine Day - I'm trying to go through all the magazines I have accumulated, pull out anything useful, and chuck the rest. Wedding mags stay. Cosmo from 1987 is garbage. New Yorker is a keeper. US magazine announcing Britney and Justin's break-up - although nostalgic - is getting recycled.

I feel good getting all these things done, and finally decluttering, but I also feel a bit overwhelmed. When did we accumulate all of this stuff? Where did it come from? And, though it may seem trivial, some things are hard to make the call on. What if in three months I think back and regret chucking something?

So much pressure.

Ours, ours, all ours

So, we will be moving on or before May 1st. On or before, meaning the current owners are already moved out, so as soon as all the inspections, document perusals (condo rules and agreements), and notary crap is done, we could theoretically pay up and move in. Could be done in as little as two weeks. Whoa.

Now it's time to start adding up all the moving expenses, of which there are many many many, and they add up. Especially hook up fees - pretty pissed that we have been Bell clients for ten years and we still have to pay $50 to get our account and number transferred.

Here are a couple of photos of the space, with the current owners' stuff, of course, but gives you a bit of an idea.

I can't wait to get in there!!!

Well, I know one thing for sure...

My digestive system does not enjoy stressful situations like condo buying.

I was finally able to get some sleep last night, after taking some allergy meds which put me out.

The problem I'm having today is stomach-burn (not even heart burn, just total gurgle belly). I went and got a hair cut to try to relax a bit (I find my hair turned out a bit weird - maybe it will just take a few days to get used to).

Anyway, so the seller gave us another counter-offer, which we are accepting, and will sign and send back to him tomorrow. Everything will be notarized at the end of April, and we will be good to go move in on the 1st of May. Holy crap, that's in like a month!

WE ARE MOVING IN A MONTH.

Barring any major catastrophes, of course. We have to get the place inspected, even though it's brand new, still a good idea to have an official reading on the state of the place when we get it. Also have to arrange for movers, and start thinking about things we need to buy/sell before moving.

I feel like starting to pack right now. I'm so excited!!!

Okay, now I'm going to go and try to sooth my stomach.

The waiting game

Yesterday we put in an offer for The Dream Condo. Now I am tearing my eyes out with the horror and the agony of the waiting.

The Dream Condo is literally that. We saw quite a few places, all of them built recently (since 2000), some around 1000 square feet (like Dream Condo) some giant ones over 1500 sq ft with mezzanines. But none of them felt like home. Dream Condo automatically gave me the feeling that I already lived there. There are only a handful of little projects I could foresee possibly undertaking to make it more our own (like a counter upgrade - gross green laminate countertop in the kitchen, and some other gross laminate in the bathroom. I dream of soapstone.) But even the paint colors are us. They even have the same furniture we do (albeit it is IKEA furniture, and half the city probably has it, but it just fits in the space.)

Dream Condo is in an apartment-style building, but doesn't feel like it. There is a little gate you enter instead of a doorway, and the stairwell leading up to our door is open. We would be on the second floor, so not too high up for the doggies, who are quite old and don't like stairs so much, but not on the ground floor, with people walking by and getting all up in our business. The walls and floors are all constructed of concrete, so there is practically no way to be bothered by neighbors, unless they are hanging out their windows screaming and you happen to be on your balcony. We would have a parking spot. I would be less than five minutes away from half of our clients. The Dream Condo is heated by blowing air, not baseboards, so feels more comfy. There is central air conditioning. A gas fireplace. A giant spa tub and separate shower. Hardwood floors. Cherry wood cabinets. Stone tile in the kitchen. His and her closets. A giant balcony. And no grass to mow.

Why would we choose a condo? It's next to impossible to find a free-standing house in the city that we could afford. Living outside of the city is not an option for us right now, as I need to be close to the business, and we can't afford to rent an office. Plus SB also works downtown. Some of the older condos are really charming and romantic-looking, but how romantic is it to hear your neighbors upstairs clomping around at 5am? And how charming are all the other problems that come along with a place built in 1920? We don't have time for that. Would it be nice to have a yard - theoretically yes. But our dogs are so old and dependent I don't think they'd really enjoy it, maintenance is annoying, and....maintenance is annoying. Our balcony is big enough for a bbq, lawnchairs, a nice furniture set, etc. We can hang out out there on a Saturday and drink beer, read the paper, let the dogs and cat sleep in the sun.

I don't know, maybe I'm being too idealistic. I'm sure once we (if we) move in we will find out what the downsides are to this place. But for now I just want all this offer-counteroffer-countercounteroffer bullshit to be done, and I want to know if and when we are moving. I can't sleep. I have a migraine. I hate negotiations. SB loves them, and is having a hard time understanding my grumpiness. But we should know by tonight. So I'm trying to keep busy and make the day go by fast fast fast.

Whirlwind

Wowie.

So, in the last week I have:
- worked two groups a day minimum as one of my girls was on vacation
- had a dog puke in the car every day for five days.
- started looking for a condo to buy
- met with an agent to help us find the perfect condo
- watched The Departed - awesome!!!
- got bit in the face by a puppy, very near my eye
-got snapped in the hand and arm by a giant elasticky leash one of my clients has when her dog got excited, chased a ball, and the clasp broke, subsequently snapping the leash back on me, narrowly missing my eyes.
- had a dog spray in the car to mark it (an un-neutered pug male - not a whole lot of stink or pee, but still very annoying and icky)
- found the perfect condo
- started looking at making an offer on that condo
- lost a dog for half an hour (found the little bastard, but he kept running from me. He was soooo sticky and dirty from the salty sidewalks. All the other dogs were pissed at him - because of him, their walk got cut short)
- had the time change totally fuck up my life.

It has been a crazy week - we are going to see Dream Condo again tonight (our third visit - we've been to two open houses there, and now we're going back with our agent). And I LOVE LOVE LOVE it. We've seen a bunch of other places, but this place just gives me that feeling. You know the feeling. Like you already live there. I just love it so much. When we talk about it, it's all I can say. I just love it. So much. Ugh, I will really hate if we don't get it. Unless something better magically pops up out of nowhere. I hate the waiting. It really drags it out, having to make appointments all over the place to see it, finance it, blah blah blah. Poor SB is swamped at work as well, and is the primary responsible for doing the whole business part of it (I just participate in the selection, decoration, and general "putting togetheredness" of it all), so he's having a tough time balancing, I'm sure.

Anyway, I have a lot of anxiety right now. I can't wait until we settle on something (ie The Dream Condo) and the moving process begins. And ends. I can't wait.

I have a problem...

I'm addicted to Facebook!

What the hell is this thing, and where the hell did it come from? Who is the evil, evil person who came up with this bright idea?

I got an invite like a month ago, and signed up, but never went back. Then suddenly, this week I got like four more invites. So yesterday I officially got on there, and started looking for people. Actually, the most fun thing is browsing everyone else's friends and finding people that way, cause it turns out I'm not as great with names as I thought I was. Plus, people get married, and the crazy ladies who don't live in Quebec actually change their names when they get married. Crazy girls. (just kidding - it's so weird here, for those of you who don't live here, it is actually EXTREMELY difficult to change your name when you get married. People rarely do it officially.)

Anyway, so I've been stuck on Facebook all morning, even though I have to do my payroll.

Oh, also, yesterday I got bit in the face by a six month old lab. I was trying to grab her collar to give her back to her owner (she chased my group down the trail, and the owner hadn't even brought a leash with him - dumbass), and she just jumped right up and mouthed me in the face with her sharp little puppy teeth. My face was of course frozen, since it is minus one million degrees outside, so it really hurt, but she didn't break the skin, thank goodness. Nor did I lose an eye. This time.

I have no idea what "Meme" means, but I love this one

I found this on Jen's site, and think it is fantastic!!!!

Original Instructions: In the list of books below, bold the ones you’ve read, italicize the ones you want to read, cross out the ones you won’t touch with a ten-foot pole, put a cross (+) in front of the ones on your book shelf, and asterisk (*) the ones you’ve never heard of.

I left some books in just regular old font, these are the ones I am not sure I want to read or not.

Can't get strikethrough to work in blogger, so have made the ones I will not touch with a ten foot pole red.

Feel free to tell me I am totally wrong and should read something on this list (take note that I hate hate hate magic realism, fantasy, and anything that involves wizards. I will just never like these, ever, so don’t try to push them on me.)

1. +The Da Vinci Code (Dan Brown)
2. Pride and Prejudice (Jane Austen)
3. To Kill A Mockingbird (Harper Lee) (I can’t believe I don’t own this one!)
4. Gone With The Wind (Margaret Mitchell)
5. The Lord of the Rings: Return of the King (Tolkien)
6. The Lord of the Rings: Fellowship of the Ring (Tolkien)
7. The Lord of the Rings: Two Towers (Tolkien)
8. Anne of Green Gables (L.M. Montgomery)
9. +Outlander (Diana Gabaldon)
10. A Fine Balance (Rohinton Mistry)
11. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire (Rowling)
12. +Angels and Demons (Dan Brown)
13. Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix (Rowling)
14. A Prayer for Owen Meany (John Irving) (I love John Irving – slowly working my way through all of his stuff)
15. +Memoirs of a Geisha (Arthur Golden)
16. Harry Potter and the Philosopher’s Stone (Rowling)
17. +Fall on Your Knees(Ann-Marie MacDonald)
18. The Stand (Stephen King)
19. Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban(Rowling)
20. Jane Eyre (Charlotte Bronte)
21. The Hobbit (Tolkien)
22. +The Catcher in the Rye (J.D. Salinger)
23. Little Women (Louisa May Alcott)
24. The Lovely Bones (Alice Sebold)
25. +Life of Pi (Yann Martel) (hated this book. Hated.)
26. The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy (Douglas Adams)
27. +Wuthering Heights (Emily Bronte)
28. The Lion, The Witch and the Wardrobe (C. S. Lewis)
29. East of Eden (John Steinbeck)
30. Tuesdays with Morrie(Mitch Albom)
31. Dune (Frank Herbert)
32. The Notebook (Nicholas Sparks)
33. Atlas Shrugged (Ayn Rand)
34. +1984 (Orwell)
35. The Mists of Avalon (Marion Zimmer Bradley)
36. The Pillars of the Earth (Ken Follett)
37. *The Power of One (Bryce Courtenay)
38. +I Know This Much is True(Wally Lamb) (probably my favorite book ever)
39. *The Red Tent (Anita Diamant)
40. The Alchemist (Paulo Coelho)
41. The Clan of the Cave Bear (Jean M. Auel)
42. +The Kite Runner (Khaled Hosseini)
43. +Confessions of a Shopaholic (Sophie Kinsella)
44. The Five People You Meet In Heaven (Mitch Albom)
45. Bible
46. +Anna Karenina (Tolstoy)
47. The Count of Monte Cristo (Alexandre Dumas)
48.+ Angela’s Ashes (Frank McCourt)
49. The Grapes of Wrath (John Steinbeck)
50. +She’s Come Undone (Wally Lamb)
51. The Poisonwood Bible (Barbara Kingsolver)
52. A Tale of Two Cities (Dickens)
53. *Ender’s Game (Orson Scott Card)
54. Great Expectations (Dickens)
55. +The Great Gatsby (Fitzgerald)
56. The Stone Angel (Margaret Laurence)
57. Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets (Rowling)
58. The Thorn Birds (Colleen McCullough)
59. +The Handmaid’s Tale (Margaret Atwood)
60. *The Time Traveller’s Wife (Audrew Niffenegger)
61. Crime and Punishment (Fyodor Dostoyevsky)
62. The Fountainhead (Ayn Rand)
63. War and Peace (Tolstoy)
64. Interview With The Vampire (Anne Rice)
65. Fifth Business (Robertson Davis)
66. One Hundred Years Of Solitude (Gabriel Garcia Marquez)
67. The Sisterhood of the Travelling Pants (Ann Brashares)
68. Catch-22 (Joseph Heller) -
69. Les Miserables (Hugo)
70. The Little Prince (Antoine de Saint-Exupery)
71. +Bridget Jones’ Diary (Fielding)
72. Love in the Time of Cholera (Marquez)
73. Shogun (James Clavell)
74. The English Patient (Michael Ondaatje)
75. The Secret Garden (Frances Hodgson Burnett)
76. *The Summer Tree (Guy Gavriel Kay)
77. A Tree Grows in Brooklyn (Betty Smith)
78. The World According To Garp (John Irving)
79. +The Diviners (Margaret Laurence)
80. +Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White)
81. +Not Wanted On The Voyage (Timothy Findley)
82. Of Mice And Men (Steinbeck)
83. *Rebecca (Daphne DuMaurier)
84. *Wizard’s First Rule (Terry Goodkind)
85. Emma (Jane Austen)
86. Watership Down(Richard Adams)
87. Brave New World (Aldous Huxley)
88. +The Stone Diaries (Carol Shields)
89. *Blindness (Jose Saramago)
90. *Kane and Abel (Jeffrey Archer)
91. In The Skin Of A Lion (Ondaatje)
92. Lord of the Flies (Golding)
93. *The Good Earth(Pearl S. Buck)
94. The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Monk Kidd)
95. The Bourne Identity (Robert Ludlum)
96. The Outsiders (S.E. Hinton)
97. +White Oleander (Janet Fitch)
98. A Woman of Substance (Barbara Taylor Bradford)
99. The Celestine Prophecy (James Redfield)
100. Ulysses (James Joyce) (I love James Joyce’s short work, just not sure if I’m ready to commit to this one)

I recommend meme'ing this too - if you do, leave it in my comments!

Back on track

Wow, so it has taken me a week to get back into the swing of things after vacation. My tan is fading. It's depressing.

SB ran the business alone while I was away, and I must say he did a pretty fantastic job considering a few weird things popped up. He handled them well, especially since he was in the middle of one of his busiest weeks at his real job.

My second day back on the job, I took my mommy with me to visit some cats. They were fun and sweet, and I think my mom actually liked playing with them while I did all the dirty chores. The apartment was on the second floor, with an interior stairwell with about 15 stairs. You see where this is going, right? We took our shoes off at the top of the stairs, and then when we left, obviously, we put our shoes back on at the top of the stairs. But the stairs were painted with a very glossy paint. And our boots were wet.

Yup, I fell down the stairs.

My mom went down first, and was unlocking the door when I fell down like 10 stairs. She turned and said "What are you doing?" Seriously?

So for like three days last week my ass and right arm were killing me. My ass hurt when I ran. My arm hurt when I buckled my seatbelt.

Welcome back from vacation.