Contributing to my social phobia

So, here we are, halfway through November! Can you believe I've been married almost two months? Can you believe I'm going on vacation in almost two months? Can you believe you're still reading the mundane details of my life daily???

But, I actually have a quasi-interesting topic today, so that's kind of exciting, right?

Last night we went for dinner at our friends' place. It was us, them, and one other couple who we have never met before.

Now, I'm all for meeting new people (not really, right?) so I put on my big girl pants, and was ready to be social and pleasant while in the company of strangers. The hosts are great friends, we don't see them nearly often enough, and they are moving away in January so I really wanted to have a nice evening and not make them regret inviting us.

I am stressing the point here that I was in the complete right frame of mind for meeting strangers. I hadn't had a horrible day, I wasn't mad at SB or any of our employees for anything. I was happy, and ready to keep it up.

But, it was too bad because the guy portion of this couple was one of those Overbearing Argumentative Chatty Cathy people. Now, any one of these three traits generally gets my back up. Overbearing: please stop interrupting me with your loud voice. I have things to say, and talking over me is not nice. Chatty Cathy: once everyone has yielded the "conversation" to you, please do the same for us at some point. Anytime now. Maybe you need a second to breathe.

But the absolute worst thing is Argumentative. Especially when you're with strangers. And I don't mean opinionated, that's different. Everyone should have opinions. But you shouldn't follow those up with a ten minute monologue about why everyone else's opinion is wrong. Because that's just rude.

There are certain things I believe can be debated in polite company, sure. But taste is not one of these things. For example, I happen to like Russell Brand and think he's funny. That is a matter of taste. If you didn't agree with me, the correct response would be "huh, really? I don't really get him." The wrong response would be "You've got to be kidding me! He's terrible. The worst! He has to be the worst comedian on the planet.." etc etc etc, effectively trying to convince me that I must be wrong, I must NOT like him.

And what was even more annoying was that his wife was a very very sweet woman, and I feel like I barely got to know anything about her because he just wouldn't SHUT UP. I think she's probably very interesting.

Anyway, I'm pretty proud of myself for keeping a pretty positive attitude. I do have my limits though, like at one point when that guy said something about why having a pet is a ridiculous concept, and this was after we had talked about a) the cat who belonged to the host, who was wandering around the whole night, b) our pets, and c) our pet sitting business. But as I looked past him, I saw SB giving me The Jim, so I DID NOT reach across and slam that guy's face into his salmon.

I haven't quite lost my mind yet.

After my minor 1 am meltdown, I am feeling much much better. Especially since my friend Sarah took the time to let me know that this kind of thing annoys her too. I love my interwebs friends.

Drowning

We are 5.5 weeks out from the wedding and my stress level is holding steady at "variable". I keep having mini-anxiety attacks about random things that are totally outside of my control, but on the other hand I'm just so darn excited that I don't really care at all. And I think it's weird that I'm starting to not care, because in the next moment I am incapacitated by GIANT anxiety attacks. All I can say at this point is the I'm pretty darn glad that in these last weeks SB seems to be stepping up his interest and is keeping us on track, as I believe I'm quickly losing steam.

I am also feeling a lot of regret lately that I have such a hard time keeping my trap shut about things. It is my own fault, and I apologize, but I have been getting super annoyed with all the questions about my business. Both my personal business and wedding planning related stuff and my ACTUAL business. I don't want to talk about it.

I don't want to talk about plans - when I know the plans, you will know the plans, but stop asking me about the plans. When I had the idea for the plans I was excited that I had an idea, but ideas don't just become actual things out of thin air, magically. I'm creative, but I'm not rich, and I'm not god, so quit fucking asking me about it and I'll let you know when I know.

Also, business-wise, we have been pondering some big changes, but please stop fucking asking me about them. I know I mentioned it once like 8 months ago, and that if it happens I will be pretty happy and it will be a pretty big change, but, please believe me, when it happens I will shout it from the rooftops. So quit fucking asking me about it.

Again, sorry to sound bristly, because I know it's really my fault for not being able to keep my mouth shut about silly things like HOPES and DREAMS, but really, when I am feeling pretty shitty about myself, and you keep asking me about all the things that make me feel shitty, well it just makes things worse. So please stop asking. Even though I'm sure you mean well. My hands are tied. And so are my feet. And I've been thrown in a river, so I don't really feel like talking about that particular thing right now.

If these walls could talk

I have spent the last two days working on re-painting the bathroom from top to bottom. So far I have painted the ceiling and the trim, touched them up, and removed the tape. Also the walls are sanded and smoothed to the best of my abilities.

Note I said 'to the best of my abilities'.

The people who lived here before us were not handy people. This was evidenced on our first round of painting when we had to remove the gigantic wall anchors they used to hang EVERY SINGLE tiny picture in the whole apartment. Where a finishing nail would have been fine they used 1/2" plastic anchors which left 1/2" holes in the wall. Which then had to be patched, sanded, re-patched and resanded to even seem halfway smoothed out.

I learned three things from this:
1) if using an anchor, use the butterfly kind - the holes are much smaller.
2) or just use a finishing nail
3) the guy who lived here before us was a moron and I hate him.

In repainting the bathroom, I have discovered a whole new level of idiocy. Not only were there four more giant wall anchors in there, but at some point Mr. Fix-It did some spackling of his own to install a new light fixture, and also some super fantastic paint around the ceiling of the shower and toilet cubby. Result: FAIL!!!. There are ridges and chips all over the place. Sanding them down is impossible without stripping everything down to the gyprock. So, I've been sanding and patching and sanding and patching and cursing. The ceiling was the worst since I have to crane my neck in such a way that I feel I may pass out. I'm not even sure how the paint stayed up there when it was applied that thick, by the sheer will of gravity I would have thought it would have dripped off.

Because we have been tossing around the idea of a complete remodel in the next year or two I am more than hesitant to put in too much effort. Yes, I want it to look good, but I know that if I put in too much blood and sweat into it I will not feel like working quite so hard next time.

Tomorrow I will tape off to prime the walls, then paint, then a little caulking around the shower, then done. I have all fingers crossed that I will not find anymore handywork.

My short attention span, why I'm going straight to hell, and what's wrong with the youth today.

I get tired of things quickly.

That's a lie - I get tired of news stories quickly. Things happen every single second, but when something big happens, I get really really into it for about five minutes, and then very very annoyed when everyone keeps on it for another 5 days while I am so over it.

So, today, Michael Jackson died. My mother could attest to the fact that when I was four years old I was literally OBSESSED with him, but not 1983 him, I was obsessed with Little Michael, who was "Little Michael" many many years before I was four. But The Jackson 5's Greatest Hits was the first real tape that I owned, and I listened to it incessantly. I also vividly remember watching Thriller with my aunt and Uncle around the same time and not believing he was the same guy.

I had a Glove. I also had a pleather pant/jacket set.

So, back to today. He died. I haven't been a fan of his music for many many years. That is, I haven't liked his new stuff. I still like the old stuff. Anyway, so it was news, and then it was confirmed news, and now, four hours later, CNN just keep going ON and ON and ON. Really, enough already.

So, I'm watching Angels in America and drinking wine.

Also, I was on a discussion board before where people were insisting it was IMPOSSIBLE to explain to their children who Michael Jackson was because it was IMPOSSIBLE to point to any modern day celebs who could ever compare.

I not only beg to differ, but I outright protest this statement/inference. Because it is totally all relative. Our grandparents never thought anything could compare to the likes of Elvis, or the Beatles etc. Then came Madonna and MJ. And our grandparents thought they were crap and our parents disagreed. Now there is Justin and Britney, The Jonas Brothers, etc. The hype is still there. The only thing that remains to be seen is the staying power, and who will last. I think it is so ignorant to think that only YOUR generation has relevant musicians/artists/actors/writers. These things are fluid and evolve. I think the best thing to do is foster an appreciation in what came before, and not crap on what you don't get, or have the foresight to believe in.

I'm not saying that either JT or Britney are this generation's legacy, I'm just saying that we won't know for another 10-15 years. It could even be that slutty Cyrus girl.

Karma hates me

I just don't understand.

A month ago, I visited the Running Room and bought my mom a Nike+ iPod running thingy. It's a little apparatus that you put on your shoe, and it sends signals to your iPod about how far you've run, etc. While I was at the store I also got some socks, some Yaktrax, and talked to the guy about why I can't log into my online account.

So, when I got home, SB realized that the guy had put not one but TWO Nike+ units in my bag, but only charged me for one.

I hummed and hawed, but decided that my karma didn't need the hit and I returned the unit the next day. The manager was very thankful, and gave me a coupon for 20% off my next purchase (yay new runners!). Plus, I felt good that I had done the right thing.

Cut to last week when my iPod went missing. Gone. Lost or stolen, who knows, but it is nowhere to be found. I really can't afford to buy a new one, so my sister is going to lend me her old one for a while. Hopefully mine will turn up in some random place, but holy eff, do I really deserve this? Really? I think if I knew what EXACTLY I did to throw things off balance I would feel a lot better about constantly getting shafted.

Squeegie, step off

My job involves a lot of driving from client to client, and I see my fair share of panhandlers. Here are a few tips, in case you happen to be a panhandler at home tonight surfing the internetz, and would like me to drop you a quarter or something tomorrow.

1. Having a skill is useful. Play an instrument. Sing. Juggle. Standing there shaking a cup in my face does not make me want to give you money. My favorite two panhandlers are the guy who plays the spoons on Ste. Catherine street, and Loud Singing Guy. Loud Singing Guy sings around one of the university downtown - he wears an old suit and tie and tapes his music to the wall. He sings standards. Very loudly. And pourly. But with heart, and I love that.

2. Stay out of the traffic. My least favorite panhandlers are the squeegie kids and others who accost me while I'm in my car. This is my space. Step off. I politely decline with a wave and a smile, and usually these guys move on to the next car since the red light is only so long and why waste time with someone who isn't gonna give you anything? The worst part is that whenever I have allowed a squeegie to squeegie me (back in my more youthful and less cynical days) this stench of cigarettes and BO always got sucked in through the vents.

3. Do not use helpless dogs to try and get my sympathy. I just feel bad for the dogs who are stuck with you as an owner. PS: I am a dog walker and usually have treats in my pocket, so if you try to use a dog to get something out of me, chances are all you're gonna get is a snack for your pup.

4. Do not get a homeless person's advocate group to advertise that you make an average of $10 per hour panhandling to people in cars on Notre Dame Blvd. That is more than minimum wage. That does not make me want to help you out.

Thinking back, I'm pretty sure I have blogged about this subject before at some point. I just feel so bad for the people who are out there because they have to be, or don't know what else to do. Because I'm sure I'm not the only person who has become jaded by the guy down the street begging for a quarter for a sandwich who still reeks of whiskey.

Almost halfway there!!!

So far NoBloPoMo has not kicked my ass. I think I have put in a pretty respectable effort so far, and I haven't missed one day. Yay me!

Today I am dying to post about my mother's newfound disdain for a certain video rental chain, but fear that if I did she may not speak to me until I turn 30. Or until I get married. Although at this rate, I think 30 will come first. But trust me, it's hilarious, and I am plotting ways to get a rise out of her for the next few months.

Today the big *new* giant Airbus 380 flew over the city. I saw it by accident as I was driving to the mountain to walk doggies. I thought "wow, that big giant plane sure is flying awfully low to be this far into the city" and then I parked and started climbing the mountain. Apparently it was a big deal (no pun intended) and there were tons of people at the top of the mountain trying to catch a glimpse. How nice for them. Not nice for me because the doggies generally enjoy running into people eating lunch on the mountain because maybe they might get some. They pester them and try to jump on them, and I have to wrangle them and it's aggrevating. And when there are 50 people eating lunch on the mountain, they think maybe they will all get some. And then things just get crazy with the whining and the pawing and the jumping. That's why as soon as I heard about all the people at the top we alternated our route to avoid the bulk of them. Airbus ruined our walk.

Apparently the Airbus is 7 stories high. To this I say meh.

Since Christmas is dead....

I'm definitely not dreaming of a white one.

It snowed in New Brunswick today, apparently. Or maybe last night. I can only say, wow, am I ever glad I don't live there anymore.

I am a big fan of the 2-10 degrees Celsius temperature range. I adore a brisk walk through the leaves with the pups. I dig a nice warm coffee/latte/hot chocolate when my nose is cold and my cheeks are rosy. I love wearing sweaters, scarves, mittens, and my Uggs. But I HATE snow. Snow should be relegated to mountains only (for the skiing and the snowboarding), but I would be elated if they built a big giant bubble over the city so we could avoid the following:

• giant snowbanks that I have to try and plow my car into because they haven't bothered to clean the streets yet (sometimes they check the weather report and rather than getting out there and getting to it, they wait to see if it will melt away).
• ice. Black ice. Giant ice puddles. Ice on stairs. All kinds of it. I can't even count the number of times I've bruised my ass while walking dogs and hitting a patch of ice. And it's the worst here because they don't seem to understand how to use salt on the sidewalks. So whole blocks will have a sheet of ice the whole length. Either you skate your way down the block, or you take it to the streets and risk getting mowed over by a car.
• wet jeans. There is nothing worse than having to walk through a snowbank and getting your jeans wet, and then the wet works its way up to your knees. I have gaiters that I wear when it's too warm for snowpants, but it still happens.

So, I'm thankful it didn't snow here this weekend. But I'm bracing myself because I'm sure it's coming soon.

Also, a small addition to my holiday wish list - I forgot to include a DVR. I think that this would drastically improve my quality of life. As of right now, I am pretty much chained to my television most nights during primetime. This would free up this time for, you know, the drinking and the carousing.

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....

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.

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.

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.

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.

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.

Deja vu

Remember last year, when I went on a lovely Cuban holiday, and the night before we left I got a ticket for running a red light?

And the year before that, when I went on a lovely Cuban holiday and came back with severe bronchitis from a cold I caught on the plane on the way there?

I just got a ticket for speeding. Three days before my departure, but I think within the same week is enough to prove that the fates are not happy when I am happy and going on vacation.

Worst. Week. Ever.

And it's only Tuesday.

Aside from getting whiplash on Saturday (which was actually the most fun I've ever had getting whiplash, and I would definitely choose snowboarding as my method of choice for getting whiplash in the future), I am having altogether a very crazy week.

Yesterday I woke up bright and early for our breakfast meeting at 7:30. At five to seven, we discovered that the truck had a flat tire. SB took a look at what it would take to change it out ourselves (for the record, Ford supplies you with the flimsiest, stupidest jack ever), and we decided we would leave it until after my meeting so I wouldn't be late. SB dropped me off at meeting. Meeting was actually fun, breakfast yummy. Only on the way home did I realize that the waiter over-charged us. A lot. Grrr.

One of my employees gave me a lift home. I called Roadside Assistance for a tire-change. They were actually quite quick. Drove to our mechanic and dropped off flat-tire for repair. Ran some errands, picked up my group, ran my group, dropped off my group. Looked for new windshield wipers at two different Canadian Tires for one of our vehicles. One store had driver's side size, but not passenger's. The other store had the passenger's side size and not the driver's. Got repaired tire put back on car. Went home.

Today, met a client at 9am. Got a call from one of my employees about a sick cat. A sick, bleeding cat. Took cat to Vet, who said outlook could be not good. Tried to contact Sick Cat's owner. Who's in England. Luckily, her assistant was able to get a message left for her, but wasn't sure when she would get back to me. Call from Vet - outlook not so bad, but still not guaranteed good. But could be worse. Picked up group, ran group, dropped off group. Visited Sick Cat - looking sad and pathetic with his lampshade on. Still no word from Sick Cat owner.

Went home - power out. Lovely. Couldn't do any office work. Call from Vet - need Sick Cat's insulin, Sick Cat needs to stay for a few days. Drove to Sick Cat's House, picked up insulin, drove to Vet, dropped off meds, petted Sick Cat. Sick Cat growls. Go home again.

Power back on. Yay. Press button to turn on computer. Nothing. Again. Nothing. AgainAgainAgainAgain. Call SB - I can deal with Sick Cat, Flat Tire, and running around like a crazy person no problem. But no computer - I'm almost in tears. Take computer to computer guy. Waiting now to hear results of "diagnostics". Sick Cat Owner calls - sounds calm, give her Vet's number, done with that for today.

So, a string of bad luck, leaving me very tired, and not very productive. But I guess it could be worse. Sick Cat could have been Dead Cat.

If only I could have the internet without an ISP

For the last three days, our internet connection has been....spotty. It's really annoying because each time it disconnects, I have to go into the office, climb under my desk, unplug all the routers and the modem, wait ten seconds, plug them each back in, then wait for the modem to reset itself, then see if it works. For the last three days, it was working enough that I could sporadically get some work emails done, get some tax stuff ready, and that's about it. No blogging. No personal email. Nothing.

Then this morning, I woke up to - SURPISE - a send/receive error on the office computer. Which means in the night the internet disconnected. Except this morning, it wouldn't log back on. I spent twenty minutes under the desk unplugging and re-plugging while my dog licked my face and whined.

Then I decided to call our ISP, who are just a bunch of dinks, really, aren't they? I really genuinely thought that maybe the girl had a brain in her head when after an hour and a half of checking connections, verifying ISP addresses, restarting the computer, resetting the modem, blah blah blah blah, finally we got a connection. Ten minutes after I hung up, the connection was lost. I was semi-tempted to buy a plane ticket to India to hunt that bitch down. I guess this is one of the benefits of global outsourcing - less deaths due to stringing customers along. SB said it is not their job to actually fix anything - they know there is a line problem, they know they can't do anything about it, but rather than tell you that, they keep you on the line until the connection randomly clicks in, tell you it's fixed, hang up and sing "HaHa Sucka."

By this time it was nearly noon, and I was pissed as hell. Not only was my internet not working, but due to icy weather, the satellite was out all morning too. I returned a few phone calls, stuffed some envelopes, then moped around until it was time for yoga.

The worst part is, I think it would be useless to up and change ISPs in protest. I think they are all the same - each one just as crappy as the next. It would just cost me more money in "connection fees" and modems, and then after three weeks of good service, I would wake up one morning to "Send/Receive Error."

Another reason against us pro-creating: We're not that observant

This morning was the first day in a a little while that we got to have a nice sleep-in Saturday. Sexy Boyfriend had hockey last night, so he got home pretty late, and by the time he had eaten something, showered, etc, it was about one o'clock before we went to sleep.

So, a nice, cool, Saturday morning sleep-in, we woke up and watched a little TV in bed, then I had to get up because I thought I might pee my pants, and I wanted to say good morning to Simon. Usually he will come in the room when he hears the TV, but not this morning. So I took peek in each room, but didn't see him. Then I called out, and all I heard was the tiniest little "meow". Not even a whole "meow" just a "me..." I moved towards the little cry, but he was quiet, so I called out again and got another "me..." - then I found him.

Sexy Boyfriend locked Simon in the closet OVERNIGHT!!!!

My poor baby kitty! He was so happy when I let him out of there, and followed me into the bedroom, purring so loudly I think our neighbors could hear him.

In other, non-real-life related things, I friggin' hate Jessica on Laguna Beach. She is the biggest loser, and I hate her. First of all, she lets every guy walk all over her, and second of all, I thought she already graduated, but she is still totally on the show all the time, like she just hangs out in Laguna and does nothing. Ugh, I hate her.

You should need a psych exam to adopt a pet - and maybe to have children, too

It's not often that I come into contact with someone more whacko than I am, but every once in a while I do. Well, this weekend I had another fun encounter with the random schizophrenics of the world.

While driving back from Domino's (yes, the Domino's - the one they opened near my house!!!) Sexy Boyfriend and I saw a German Shepherd puppy wandering into the street. He looked like he was about 4-5 months old, and had a thin chain leash wrapped around his neck (no collar) and dragging behind him.

Sexy Boyfriend didn't even have to ask, he just pulled over and I jumped out of the car. I followed the pup across the road, and was able to get a hold of him. Some people at the bus stop pointed out a woman sweeping some leaves on the sidewalk and said the puppy belonged to her, so I picked him up (the leash was not dependable at all and kept slipping off his head) and went back across the road to return him.

At first I was happy that we knew his owner, and that he would be safe, but as I approached her, I realized I was wrong. She wasn't even looking up, not even aware that he may have wandered anywhere. And then when she finally looked up at me she screamed for me to put the dog down. It was extra frustrating that she couldn't speak english at all, and the only french she knew was "Thank you, bye." She kept yelling all this stuff, and I was trying to explain that her dog needed to be restrained better because he almost got hit by like ten cars when he ran across the road, then she grabbed the leash out of my hand and threw it on the ground. I tried to tell her that it's illegal for a dog to be off-leash in the first place, and that she needs to take better care. She just kept yelling, asking me if I spoke french (which I was speaking to her) and then yelling at me to go. Then she grabbed the leash and started jerking the dog around and yelling at him, then hit him with the broom she had. I SCREAMED at her (I never knew I could react that way to someone) and told her to quit it or I would call the police. When she heard "police" she turned back toward me and started yelling again, meanwhile the dog started to run away again. I ignored her, then reached out and grabbed his leash so he wouldn't become roadkill, then she yelled and HIT ME WITH THE BROOM. By this point Sexy Boyfriend finally came up the sidewalk, and I think she was freaked that we would either take her back to the mother ship for some kind of probing exercise or take the dog away, so she finally started dragging him down the sidewalk by the leash, up into an apartment.

I was so shaken up, so angry, so saddened. That poor puppy has no chance. He will grow up, either with her and become abused, angry and aggressive, or in a pound when she loses him, once he is too big to be cute; untrained, and so, undesirable. Or he will be hit by a car and die. I was crying in the car on the way home. I wish I hadn't crossed the street to bring him back to her. I wish I had just gotten in my car and tried to find him somewhere to live myself.