Quarter-life crisis purchases

I am an absent blogger. And for now, I'm okay with that.

This week was crazy, and I think I'm in for more of the same for this next little while. Put together: 1) busiest vacation time of the summer, 2) a business you run based around people's vacations (I have never been around so many different cats in one week in my entire life), and 3) a staffing level teetering on "emergency, emergency, we need to hire ten people", and 4) one of those staff on her way out in the next two weeks. Eeks. But, I have to say that as long as I get my sleep (and I'm talking comotose at like 9PM) the days usually shape up to be not so bad.

So, Friday was my birthday, which was pretty fun. Well, not really fun in a sense that I partied my ass off and got wasted and all those things that used to be fun to do on your birthday, but I didn't go to bed til 11:30, drank way too much wine with my kick-ass bloody steak at The Keg, and actually allowed myself to take a lunchbreak during the work day. Cause on your birthday you shouldn't be cranky due to low blood sugar.

Lots of people gave me cash for my birthday, which was stupendous, because for once I knew what I wanted to buy instead of just paying off my Visa with it or buying Subway or something. I bought myself (along with contributions from my Mummy, my Papa, my Grammie and Grampie, and Sexy Boyfriend) the most bitchin'est kick-ass snowboard EVER!!! I love it sooooo much. Here it is:

I friggin' love it so much I would almost make out with it!!!

I've been thinking about the snowboard for quite a while, and we've gone looking several times, and I kinda had my eye on a different one, but wasn't quite sure, and the prices went down, but then I didn't know if I really liked the design and the colors of the other one (which I know is not the most important thing when buying a snowboard, but the cuter I look, the more I'll want to ride it, right?), and then we went into the shop, and I saw this one, and my heart went pitter-pat and I knew I couldn't leave without it. Now I only have to wait like five more months for enough snow to ride it.

Pair this with the present I got SB for his birthday, a 3-day weekend rental of a Ducati sportbike, which we will hopefully actually get to use this summer, and I think we were hit harder by our respective QLC (quarter life crises) then we would like to admit. But by goodness, we just might fatally wound ourselves yet!

Not much else is happening. I felt a little nostalgic on Thursday, right before my birthday, thinking about all the stuff that's happened over the past year, but I kinda don't feel like writing about that right now. So stay tuned for melodrama and sentimentality. Woop woop.

With a tub of Haagen Daaz, and, oddly, craving a cigarette

I'm having an especially grumpy day.

I'm sick of driving The Shittiest Car on Earth (SB has our camera, but as soon as it's back in the apartment I will take and post a picture of The Beast.) The World Cup is ruining my carefully planned out scheduling (enough with the honking and wooing and slow-driving already! It's fucking 5:00 on a Wednesday - people have shit to do!). And now, while I'm toiling away at stuff I'm trying to get done so that I can go to the doctor tomorrow so I don't run out of crazy medicine and lose my head, someone is singing a particularly horrible rendition of Roxanne on the premiere of Rockstar: Supernova. It's a song I don't hate, perse, but I do hate Sting, and the Police, and I definitely hate this guy who's singing.

Today was my first real taste of stress, and it sucked, but none of it was my fault, which is what made it stressful. When something fucks up and it's my fault, I can recognize it, own up to it, and fix it. But when there's traffic because people without normal jobs, or any jobs, or nothing better to do are cruising up and down the main avenues waving flags and wearing out their horn batteries, and this waving of flags slows down my shit, the thing I thought was cute a few days ago turns ugly and makes me bitter.

The only thing I can say is, thank goodness for Goosie. He always makes me feel better.

Little World

So, it's almost the end of the World Cup, and it's my first World Cup in Montreal. Who knew it could be this exciting?

Montreal is pretty well known for it's diversity. Whereas, say, Toronto (not to name names, but...) has a reputation for being more of a melting pot, Montreal is the quintessential mosaic. People come here, love it here, but are fiercely proud of their heritage and lineage. It makes for very cool little neighborhoods, and sporting events as I have never witnessed them in my life.

Anyway, with the World Cup going on, it's inevitable that people will wear jerseys, and have little flags or something, and maybe gather at a sportsbar on a Saturday to watch a match or two. But here, here the World Cup takes on a life of its own. At 11am on a Tuesday, people were driving their cars up and down the main streets with flags and banners and megaphones and horns, and possible booze. And not just one car - no no no - parades of them, honking and yelling and generally getting in my way, but in a non-irritating way because people should be able to celebrate when their team wins, or scores, or whatever happened.

I was also struck by the vast number of countries that were represented in these little parades. There wasn't just Brazil, Germany, Argentina, you know, the big teams. Portugal had a huge following, as did Italy. Even the French were not too haughty for once to join in. But no one seemed to be disputing. At least not in an overly aggressive way.

On Friday, after Italy won their match against the Ukraine, we took a drive to Little Italy. The streets were closed down and hundreds of people were marching and singing and waving flags. One guy had a giant afghan that I'm guessing his nona made him of the Italian flag. People had tiny jerseys on their tiny dogs while they waved flags, ate gelato and tried not to get anything on their Gucci shoes. Maybe it wasn't exactly like Rome, but at the very least it was like New Jersey, HBO style.

I feel lucky to live in a city like this - where I can experience all these cultures so authentically, from people who care about and are proud of where they came from. And I love that I can be curious about them, without feeling like a tourist.

I just wish they wouldn't slow the traffic up quite so much.

While checking out F1 weekend downtown.

Me: wow, I can't believe we didn't even see one celebrity.

SB: well, I guess they probably don't want to come around all this hoopla - their limos can't even drop them off in front of the good restaurants because the streets are blocked off. I mean, people are only staying away from me because I'm el cognito.

Me: You're Al Cognito? Does that mean I can be Sue Cognito?

SB: Not Al Cognito, el cognito. You know, undercover?

Me: You mean IN cognito.

Long pause.

SB: Shut up.

Long pause, and a walk of about a block.

Me: Maybe I'll be Janet Cognito....

The first thing I will do is write myself a big fat paycheque

Here we are, officially "in it". I still don't feel different. Although our home office feels a bit cramped since I haven't had a yard sale yet and it was already stuffed full of crap. I mean... fabulous articles which will soon be for sale on our front yard. So come on down!

We had a fantastic closing dinner with my two ex-employers on Friday night, and their significant others. It was really a blast, and I am sad that I only got to know these girls and their guys through work stuff and now we are parting ways. We spent the whole dinner talking about fun Maritime traditions, Trailer Park Boys, Office Space, and what I have to look forward to as the proud owner of HHH. And there was of course lots of alcohol. Wine and martinis - does it really get any better than that?

Last night I collapsed into slumber at like 10:30. After moving the office to our house and making the schedule for next week, plus a to-do list of like a million things, I decided I would treat myself to a crossword puzzle interlude. For the longest time, I have been without a printer because mine just up and decided it didn't want to configure with my Mac anymore (WTF?), and now that we have a brand new (three years old) PC (scary viruses - ick!), I thought I should take advantage and print off a big giant crossword puzzle and work through it while watching, oh, I don't know, maybe some CSI? Ya, only I fell asleep after like three clues, and don't even remember Sexy Boyfriend coming to bed and removing my crossword, and pen, before I impaled myself.

I realize I have been a blogger slacker, which is terrible, because I'm already the consummate email slacker, and my excuse has always been "well, I have a blog, so there's no reason you still can't know what I'm up to." So, I apologize, and I figure that now that I work from home for several hours per day, I will be looking to slack off a lot, as people who work tend to do, so yay for you, more blog posts to come!!

My view from inside the bubble

So I'm still not stressed yet. Just getting tired out from early mornings and late appointments and eating dinner at 8 then working til ten or eleven on stuff I can't do during the day cause I don't have access to a computer yet. But I'm not stressed. All of the client feedback has been more than amazing, and flattering, and makes me feel like there's no way we could lose on this one. One client told me today "We're so happy and excited for you - you're our favorite walker!"

Everything will be taken care of by Friday, and then we are going to be able to move the office to our house, which will be FABULOUS because I find it very challenging to share control, and equipment, and I think the girls do, too. I can't wait to start my own organizing, and accounting, and all the little details you get to do when you own a business. Right now I am doing too much "continuing" with the way they do things, which is fine to learn by, but I have so many ideas about how to work things my way.

I'm also discovering how much I love meeting the pet owners. You can really tell a lot about how your visits with an animal are going to be when you meet their owners, and see how they interact. Yesterday there was a neurotic woman who wanted validation that her dog was needy and problem-ridden, but really he was pretty normal and really cute. Last night I met a couple with two cats and a new puppy, and they spoil them maybe even more than we spoil our little critters. I never thought I would enjoy dealing with people again after all the shitty times I had while working in customer service, but I'm really having fun!

So, that's the update. I hope everyone is doing well in the outside world. I miss you.

Maybe the stress just starts now

It's officially ours.

Tomorrow is my first day as the official owner/operator of HHH. We're using this week as a transitional period to tie up all the loose ends along with the previous owners, but as far as billing, payroll, and responsibilities, it's all ours. By loose ends, I mean pretty much everything imaginable, it seems, but one big thing is to get the website updated with all my info, and all the current walkers. The current owners haven't updated the site in quite some time (I think it's cause they have dial-up in their office - boo to dial-up), so keep checking in there for updates!

We decided on the plan for this final week yesterday, and even though I have quite a to-do list, I felt a sense of calm when our meeting was done. Everything is scheduled, and not a crazy, unattainable schedule, but realistic. Everyone seems happy with the arrangement, and really excited to get going (me to get started, them to get out).

During this whole period of negotiation, planning, transition, etc., I haven't really felt that much anxiety or stress. It's weird, right? I fall asleep hard and quickly, I feel energized most of the time, and happy. But I could tell this morning that maybe I really had some underlying fears and stresses, cause last night I dreamed I was in Cuba. Now that everything is in order and we are really digging in, I dreamed that I was in the most relaxing place I know.

And not only that, but in my dream we were deciding to stay an extra week just because we could.

Dear Thief,

I'm not sure why you chose to break into my little Jetta. Was it the giant dent in the front fender from when my landlady backed into it last week? Was it her cute little VW smile? Was it my iPod? Yes, I guess it was that. Because that seems to be the only thing of any value to you of all the things you pillaged from my vehicle. I will miss my little 20GB, with her cute little purple cover. I hope you enjoy all the REM on there.

I also hope you have a good time reading My Life, Bill Clinton's autobiography. I'm glad that you took it, actually, because I was halfway through, and now the suspense will really build up as to how it ends. By the way, that book was on loan from my grandfather's wife - don't you feel good that you stole from a (semi) old lady? Also, please take good care of the first edition copy of Adultery that you stole. I'm sure you will. Don't break the spine, and it could really be worth something someday. Or just throw it in someone's recycling if actually reading something is too much of a bother for you.

I would love to know what kind of tool you used to pop the lock off of my door, then manipulate the electric system of my car in such a way that all the windows were down, the trunk was popped, and the gas tank door was open when I found it. Oh, and the alarm didn't go off either. Did you do this to show how Fancy you are? Or did you think that maybe it would rain, and thus, with all the windows down, I would have had a wet ass all day today? Boy, that would have been a funny joke. Too bad it was sunny this morning.

I also want to applaud you on your mastery of thievery as a whole. I can really tell you are a real professional. Not only by the sophistication of your break-in method, but also your eagle eye that spotted my iPod under my cup holder. Oooh, ooh, and you know what else was good? The way you grabbed my giant North Face backpack full of books you will never read, a battery charger with no batteries in it, some masking tape, two crossword puzzle books, sunscreen, handcream, and lip gloss, but the way you neglected to grab my purse, which was semi-hidden (although not well, I admit, I'm a bit negligent for this) behind my trash bag, and which held all my ID, credit cards, debit cards, and $20 cash. And my digital camera. (Hey, you missed the opportunity to be the second person to steal my camera this year! Darn it! Maybe next time, I guess!)

So, Thief, happy thieving. Keep on rockin' with my iPod. Wolf Parade is really good, huh?

Your BVF (Best Victim 4-Evah),
Jules

Captain Sexy Boyfriend

I'm probably the worst car trip companion in the history of motorized travel. I wasn't always this way. I used to be able to occupy myself by reading, or doing crossword puzzles, and chatting with Sexy Boyfriend while we barrelled through snow/sleet/volleyball-sized hail between Montreal and Moncton to visit our families. There were sing-alongs, seat dancing, DVDs on laptops, and even a few rip-roaring games of I Spy.

But, alas, the good times ended when we started travelling with my sweet little man, Simon.

On our first few trips, we tried the whole "stuff him into a carrier, shove him in the back window, and drug him til he can't see straight" method. But Simon will not be deterred. He would meow and meow and meow, for hours and hours and hours. Each stop we made we pumped more Gravol into him, but all this did was make him sound like a drugged meower, or like someone had run him over on the side of the road and he was clinging to life whilst crying out for help with his last ounce of strength.

Soon, Simon wised up to the fact that the Gravol was the source of the spinning, and he would not take it. For any of you who have ever tried to give a cat a pill, it can be difficult. You need to be forceful. Sometimes you need to be devious. With Simon, you need chain mail and a syringe. He scratches, he bites, he froths at the mouth. He has this amazing ability of regurgitating the pill even when you do manage to shove it down his throat. We tried making a solution of Gravol and water, then Gravol and milk, and shooting it into his mouth like you do with an infant. But he would just froth and froth and froth at the mouth until we thought we were killing him, and/or he was infected with rabies. We tried mashing it up in some soft Whiskas (hello, treat food - the one thing he would steal from the fridge if he was two feet taller and had opposible thumbs so he could break into it), but he just turned up his nose and took a few nibbles of his regular kibble.

Also, with the whole carrier thing, his hard-sided carrier got way too small. So, we decided to try a soft-sided, dufflebag type carrier. Everything was great until he freaked out and clawed his way out while Sexy Boyfriend was driving alone along a two-lane highway. Then he decided that he would like to work the pedals.

So, now we have a new approach to travelling with Simon. Simon can install himself pretty well wherever he wants, and pillows will be placed all around the car so that Simon may have several perches to choose from. Sadly, Simon's favorite perch is on Mama's lap. Mama being me. And my lap being where the DVD player/crossword book/novel used to rest back when I was a good travelling companion. But now that's where Simon sits, on a pillow, with his head rested on the door, his nose against the glass. And with nothing else to keep me occupied, I spend the bulk of my time sleeping.

Poor Sexy Boyfriend.

Live from the N.B.

We decided late on Saturday that we would indeed take this week off from work to go home to New Brunswick for a little downtime before we take over the business. So, we left on Sunday and drove all day. It was the first time in a long time that we drove down during the daytime, and Sexy Boyfriend got a really funny sunburn from the sunroof. It probably wouldn't have been so bad if I had been able to keep my eyes open for more than five minutes and actually take turns driving, but we won't get into that. Anyway, he ended up with only the right side of his face burned, because the sun was beating down through the roof. It looks normal enough now, but was kinda funny on Sunday night.

I've been taking it easy, and yet have been very busy. Yesterday I ran errands with my mom all day, then had dinner with her and my sister. After that, SB's family had people over for dessert, so I went there for the evening and picked up my other sister, Sara, at work at midnight. Today, I drove my mom to work, then subsequently turned around to pick her up because her boss told her to take the week off and have fun visiting. Then I drove Sara back to work, then changed into a tank top and helped my mom stain the deck. This was an "entire afternoon" activity, whereas I originally thought it would only take us a couple of hours. My shoulders are now killing me, both from hunching over and painting on the stain, and also from the massive sunburn I got, which I know is bad for me, but it just hurts so good.

After deck staining duties, it was time to put streaks in Rachel's (the youngest sister's) hair. I was terrified, but also very into it. It was super fun and I took a really funny photo of her with a combination of foils and cap, which I will upload when I get back home to my computer.

Then I made pork tenderloin dinner for my family and SB, and now I'm finally just chillin'. I am so glad that it's not Christmas time, because it's always stressful to take vacation then, but I feel like so far my vacay has been pretty jam packed with exciting goodness.

Only five vacation days left. Scho Schad.

I think I killed my dog today

I either added or subtracted a year from her life. Today was "Take Gabby to Work Day", which was really fun and exciting for everyone involved. She was huffing and puffing before we even picked up the first dog. One dog was totally into her smokin' ass, and kept sniffing her incessantly. She kept up pretty well with the other doggies when we went to the dog park, and was really into the whole sitting in the back with everybody thing while we were dropping everyone off. But when I came back from leaving the last dog at his house (a Portuguese water dog with a severe underbite - so cute!), she had hopped in the front seat and was looking at me like "Ya, so we're going home now, right?" So, while I had a cat appointment I took her to our office and dropped her off for a rest.

When I went back to get her, she was pretty happy to see me, and our last walk was really fun and she was really into it, but now that we are home she has planted herself on the sofa and is sound asleep. Like, I think I could yell out "the kitchen is full of treats, come and get it!!!!" and she wouldn't even budge. I'm hoping to bring her along quite a bit when I start doing group walks regularly, because she's getting to that age that she's put on quite a bit of weight, and diet changes aren't helping. But, I'm also kinda scared that she's going to die of a heart attack or something from over-exertion.

Procrastinator extraordinaire

It's finally here - the 2006 edition of our vacation photos. From like four months ago. They are super poor quality due to the fantastic camera we had access to (because ours was stolen by baggage gremlins). You can see the photos here. Not super exciting, but some great shots of our resort, for those of you who didn't believe all my ranting and raving about how wonderful it was there.

This week we will be crazy busy getting stuff ready for the business changeover. Finally we will have a phone number and a PO Box, so finally we can get some business cards and promo stuff made. Sexy Boyfriend is installing our accounting software on his computer tonight so we (he) can get a feel for it before the changeover date. I say he is getting a feel for it because, although I'm good with computers, he is good with business, and can probably set up some of the stuff more efficiently than I can. It would also take me quite a while to teach myself how to use it, and then more time to set up.

That's all my news - the weekend was pretty boring - lots of business shopping and TONS of cleaning. Saturday night we went to see the DaVinci Code, which I really enjoyed. Obviously not as much as I loved the book, but I think if I had seen the movie first I would have been blown away. I still don't buy Tom Hanks as Robert Langdon, but Jean Reno, Paul Bettany, and Ian McKellan were really impressive. Audrey Tautou was okay, but I was pretty disappointed that her character was kinda dumbed down for the movie. All in all, it's worth the $10 admission for sure.

Spring is in the air

I can't remember the last time I loved spring this much. Maybe it's because I'm actually out in it, smelling the new blooms, feeling the fresh air and cool spring rain, instead of stuffed into a cubicle wanting to rip my eyes out. For weeks now I have been walking dogs, and I'll randomly smell lilacs, and I look all around but there are no lilacs to be seen. I thought maybe I was going nuts until about a week ago when all the lilacs started to bloom, and I saw that all those pointy, cold looking trees in the neighborhoods I frequent are actually beautiful bushes that were just waiting to explode in bloom.

When I was in elementary school, I used to walk to school every day. On the corner right before we reached the school, the house had a giant lilac tree, and people would always pull off blooms as they passed by to bring home to their moms. It became quite an epidemic until one day, when I was in the first grade, there was a school-wide warning issued to leave the damn tree alone already. Coincidentally, we also had a neighbor with a big giant lilac tree. This neighbor loved me - she gave me cheese cloth once when I caught a butterfly and wanted to keep it in a jar, and she also paid me $10 one week to collect their mail while they were away. Anyway, this neighbor offered me to cut off some of the lilac blooms. So, I took some for my mummy, and some for my nanny, and some for my teacher. My teacher was Soeur Margot, and although she was a nun, she didn't wear a habit since I went to regular public school and religion is not allowed in public school. However, even without the habit, she was scary as hell - on more than one occasion she crossed the line with regards to disciplining students, and was also the source of my best friend's agonizing stomach aches, which kept her home from school so much she almost had to repeat first grade.

Anyhow, so I brought some lilacs for my teacher. I vividly remember how proud I was to give them to her, and how lovely they smelled. I also vividly remember the feeling of surprise and hurt when she berated me in front of everyone for taking lilacs from the house beside our school. I think this is the moment when my inability to hold onto my shit when I'm upset officially engrained itself as standard behavior on my part.

I'm glad that I gave up my ability to keep composure, but was able to keep my love for the smell of lilacs.

Hands over my ears in horror

I've been kinda running around like a chicken with my head cut off this week, hence the lack of posts. We've been throwing around ideas for the business, trying to work all that stuff out. It seems like every time I sit down I think of something else that I absolutely can't forget to consider.

Yesterday was my first baby shower in a very long time. It was for a friend who used to work with me at IKEA and who is now a teacher - I haven't seen her for a while, and she looks so great, so happy, so settled. Our friend, Chag, was the hostess and she did an absolutely amazing job. There was a full-on spread of little appetizers that were super yummy - the kind of thing I love to do but just can't seem to organize. We had little zucchini fritters, herbed parmesan chicken pieces, a tuna salad in endive leaves, smoked salmon rolls, stuffed mushroom caps, and various salads and hummus trays. I'm sure I've forgotten something, but how could you not with so many great dishes? So yummy! She also made some pretty spectacular cakes, which were impressively decorated. We decided that she and I will have a baking day sometime, and Ems will be the designated spoon-taster.

The shower itself was fun. There were a lot of soon-to-be moms there, in various stages of pregnant bellyness. I'm sure I've mentioned that children make me uncomfortable (thank goodness there were no babies there), but one thing that makes me even more uncomfortable is hearing anything about any kind of birthing processes. It makes me squirm, and sweat, and basically want to run from the room. During a break in the present opening, conversation turned to things like people having their waters broken with giant hooks, and people having family members looks at their vaginas while a turkey was being squeezed through it. I could feel a cold sweat beginning when Ems nudged me and said "Jules, how about we go get a coffee?" Later, with talk of umbilical cords falling off, I felt another nudge and a "Jules, I need to go for a smoke, come with me."

So, here is a public shout out to Ems - I will never be around moms or babies without you ever again.

Another way that babies take the joy out of shopping

Next weekend is a pretty big weekend for me - Mother's Day is Sunday, so I've been internet shopping to find something to send to the two mom's (mine and SB's), Sunday is also our anniversary (8 years together, 1 year engaged), and on Saturday I am attending a baby shower.

This will be my first baby shower since I was like ten. I don't have any friends who have had babies, and my sisters are WAY too young to have babies. Plus babies seriously freak me out. I thought that shopping for a baby would be easy, so I headed out to Gap, because that's pretty much the only store I shop at, and started wading through the Baby sales rounder and tried to squeeze around all the giant Hummer strollers taking up all the fucking space in that baby department. I found a few pieces that were super cute, and I decided to buy something that will fit the baby later on in the summer. I thought I had it all under control, until I realized that I had an armload of clothes, none of which matched the other. Pinks that were one shade darker, or not quite the same tone. Things that matched, but were two different sizes. I started to sweat.

Luckily, I was visiting the Gap where I worked not so long ago, and one of my friends, Olivia, helped me find a cute little orange and pink outfit. So cute. Then, after paying, I called Ems to confirm that I had made okay choices - little shorts, a T, and a hoodie. She said it sounded great, and she has successfully weaned and clothed two babies, so she should know, right?

A real life business person

In approximately one month, we will officially own the dog walking company. I'm still not freaking out about the actual running of the business, but the whole changeover part is really daunting. I'm so nervous that we are going to fuck something up, which I'm sure won't happen since the business is small and super not complicated, but still. Sexy Boyfriend seems to have most of the technical stuff under control cause he's a super business wunderkind, but my head is swimming when he talks about incorporation and tax remittances. I know it's all stuff I will understand once we get going, but with a timeframe of 1 month, I don't feel like I'll get it that fast.

I'm very excited to get going, but I'm sad to see my bosses go. I find them both so funny and sensible - for one of the first times ever I don't find myself constantly questioning everything my boss is doing, or their motives for doing them. Everything is straight up and flexible.

We are hoping to have about a week or so to go home for a visit before things get rolling - we'll spend the next couple of weeks learning how they have been doing business and planning any changes we might want to make, and then we will maybe go away the week before we take over. I figure we won't have the opportunity to take much time off for a while so it's probably important to take some time away, together, before we're ready to rip each other's eyes out.

So, that's what I've been up to this week.

Trying to keep my poker face

We made our initial offer on the business today, and we are scheduled to meet with my bosses tomorrow night to discuss. I feel like it's Christmas Eve. I just want to know what they have to say, what they think, whether this is all going to be wrapped up tomorrow night and within about a month this will all be mine.

I can't get over how very exciting all of this is, and how not scared I am. It makes me more nervous that I am not scared or anxious than actually taking over the business does. Meanwhile, until tomorrow night, I have to play it cool, so that my bosses don't try to raise the bid too high. They aren't like that, they are into making everyone happy in the end, and getting the business in the hands of the right person so it doesn't just fizzle out. But, Sexy Boyfriend is a man of the business world, and in Sexy Boyfriend's Mean Businessman Language, I have to keep them thinking that I can walk away from any time and haven't lost out on anything. But, in real life language, which is what both myself and my bosses speak, I really want this to happen, and think it will really be sucky if it doesn't.

Otherwise, things are normal. Work is awesome, even though it rained a lot today and I got soaked. Also, while walking Goosie today some child in the street randomly yelled out "DIIIIIIIIIARHEA!!!!!" I wish I could remember even half of the hilarious things I see and hear during the day. For example, last week I saw a lady pissing in the park, and I totally forgot to even mention it. She was squatted against a tree and everything, and was partially hidden unlike the last person I saw using the park as facilities. Then yesterday I saw a man park his car, walk into an alley behind a convenience store, and take a leak there. Not like into the alley, like two feet behind the building. What the hell is with this city and people feeling the need to get back to nature?

We definitely don't live in Grecoville

In the Maritimes, there is a chain of pizza places called Greco pizza. You can see their website here.

I can't remember exactly when I had my first taste of Greco pizza, but I do remember that they were part of our Hot Lunch program in elementary school. We didn't have a cafeteria at my school, but they had Hot Lunch, where they would prepare or order in food that you could pick up at the home ec kitchen and bring back to your classroom. I believe that Thursday was pizza day for the longest time, and for $2 you got two slices out of the Greco Party pizza. At some point we started having Greco sub day, where you could buy one of their small oven subs (basically all their pizza ingredients, inside of a sub slathered in garlic butter, topped in cheese). I have fond memories of waiting in line for my paper plate, napkin, and two slices of pizza. I'm not even sure I liked that pizza more than any other pizza I had at home, but it really kindles feelings of belonging and a warm nostalgia for the third grade.

Greco had two great jingles that I can remember. One was their phone number, and went "three ten thirty thirty - GRECO! three ten thirty thirty - GRECO!" and played on the radio quite often. The other campaign had a song that asked the question "Do you live in Grecoville?" implying that Greco is everywhere, and everyone lives in Grecoville, we are all in one big happy pepperoni eating community, and to be part of it, all you have to do is call three ten thirty thirty and you're part of Grecoville too. I haven't lived in the Maritimes for nine years now, and I still remember the jingles vividly.

Cut to a few months ago, when my friend Ems, who lives on an island outside the city, mentioned Greco to me. Her boyfriend is from Newfoundland (herein he will be referred to as The Newf), where they are also part of Grecoville, and he went psycho when one day they received a flyer saying they had opened a Greco Express on their island, right up the street from their house. The Newf is a big fan of the Greco Donair, which I was never partial to, but to each his own. Anyway, she said he made the whole family pack up and drive to this tiny gas station, which had a tiny Greco station set up inside, but that it was indeed the real thing and tastes just as good.

So, yesterday Sexy Boyfriend and I got it in our heads that we wanted Greco. We had to have Greco, no matter what. We left the house at seven pm, and by the time we drove to Greco, waited for the lady to make our OvenSubs, then drove all the way back home (because the tiny gas station didn't have anywhere that you could sit down to eat your OvenSubs) it was nine o'clock. Two hours! For OvenSubs! I almost starved to death.

But holy shit they were good.

The Big Thing

I think it's okay for me to talk about the Big Thing now.

We are thinking about buying the company that I work for. My bosses, who started the dog walking company, and who are sisters, are looking to sell and approached me to see if I was interested. One of them is moving back to Nova Scotia to start a family, and the other one would like to take the opportunity to try something new. The business is thriving, they are turning customers away because they are uncertain about the future and don't want to take on too much with everything kind of up in the air.

So, we've been going over some of their stuff, figuring out how we could work it logistically, what changes we could make, what it would take to expand, how much could we make from it, and whether it could actually just work. Everything is looking very good, and I think we're about ready to make an offer to them, but the whole thing is hung up because they signed on with a dodgy business broker who has them locked into some kind of contract which says they owe him a ton of money whether he finds them the buyer or not. I was putting off talking about the Big Thing because we were exploring ways that we could get around the dodgy broker, but it looks like the direct approach will be the best, and it also looks like legally the contract is a piece of crap, so finally I can get it off my chest and write about the Big Thing without being cryptic and tedious.

I really hope this works out. I love my job. I have never been happier, actually, in my entire adult life in any work I have ever done. Also, I think it is significant that one of my life's dreams has always been to run a doggie daycare, and this is as close as you can get without owning any property, I think. I feel really good about this, so good that it doesn't stress me out at all to think about it. I just feel like it will work out, and I haven't lost any sleep at all. When I think to myself "but how will we...." whatever the issue is, it's like the answers are just there, waiting for me, and I'm like "oh, of course that's how it will work." If any of that makes any sense.

Anyway, so that's what's happening, and it's all very exciting, and very big, but surprisingly not scary at all and I really hope it works out, and quickly, because I'm very excited and have tons of great ideas that I would love to get started on.

I feel like I just got the biggest stresser off my chest, which was holding it all in. Aaaahhhh.

Like Cher's farewell tour....

it just never ends. And when you think you finally got rid of it, there it is again. In all of its unknown origin, itchy wonderfulness.

I'm talking, of course, about The Rash. The Rash is back, yet again. I believe this time I have really nabbed the culprit. I have been staying away from all perfumed soaps and stuff that I started using around the time of the first breakout, and my skin has been fine. Then today it started raining at around noon, so, logically, I put on my slicker for my one hour group walk. And when I got back in the car, lo and behold, my arms were covered in The Rash. As I drove to my next client, I was rubbing my arms on any surface I could get to to scratch them. My next walk was half an hour, and it was still raining, so back on with the slicker, and afterwards The Rash was running rampant all the way up my arm. Yuck. I have had this slicker for about, oh, nine years, and it has never caused this problem. I am so sad.

So, I've put my slicker in the wash, even though you're not supposed to. You're only supposed to wipe it clean with a cloth - no machine wash, no dry cleaning. It's a rubbery material slicker, and hopefully the wash won't ruin it, but I have a feeling that some kind of irritant has taken up residence in the nylon lining. Double Yuck. What if it's some kind of mold or fungus? Ew.

Happy Saturday!

I'm not sure what's going on with my site right now, and I don't have time to get to it. So, listeners, you will have to do without the trippy little graphic at the top of the screen. Sorry.

In other news, as if my life is not occupied enough right now with the Thing We Do Not Speak Of (which looks like we may be able to speak of it soon, so YAY!), and the stupid Websudoku page that has been eating my spare moments away for months thanks to Sarah, I had to have the misfortune of stumbling across this little evil piece of the internet compliments of Alice. With things like this out there, how does anyone have time for internet porn?

So, aside from boggling my brains out and buying birthday gifts for my sister and working through the Big Thing, not much is going on. I had dinner with some friends last weekend, and would love to post about it and put up a nice picture that I took, but one of the friends has a secret that she is slowly surprising everyone with, so it has become another Thing I Cannot Talk About. Hmpf.

The new dishwasher is here, and it is also better than internet porn. Who knew glasses could be so squeaky and shiny? Who knew buying JetDry could be so fun? Who knew a sausage-shaped dog could run so fast when startled by the dishwasher suddenly draining into the sink?

Oh, the good times we're having this weekend!

And I thought the bra thing was bad.....

I'm sorry I haven't posted in a while - I know it's something that happens to all bloggers from time to time, but I still feel guilty.

I have been eyebrows deep in a spreadsheet for the past three days trying to figure out whether the hell our BIG thing is feasible. And when all I'm thinking about is the thing, but I can't talk about the thing, then that doesn't leave much to write about, now does it?

I officially started running today. It was pretty rough, to tell the truth. I ran with the Goosinator, which was definitely very interesting, and also a godsend. I am used to running with a dog who knows how to run, who trots along steadily at my side and keeps their eyes on the road (eventually, by about 3/4 of the way into the run I start to have delusions that the doggie is mocking me, which makes me even more determined to finish the run). Goosie is not a dog like this. Goosie is only interested in looking at me, even on a normal day, he seems mesmerized by me and it's kinda creepy sometimes. He also thinks that this running thing is a game, not a means of getting to a destination, so he spent half the run leaping in the air trying to get me to play tug with his leash. This was at once exhausting and great - it was tiring when he pulled on the leash, but it also gave me the opportunity to stop, scold him, and simultaneously take a breather without looking like a total out of shape loser. About halfway into my intended run time Goosie caught on to what the real goal was and calmed down. I ended up falling short of my goal time, but think I did pretty well nonetheless. It takes a few outings to really get into that rhythm, when it actually feels good. For now I felt like a giant fist was hammering me into the sidewalk with everystep, while squeezing the life out of me.

So that's what's going on. Exciting, huh? Oh, also we bought a dishwasher, but it only arrives next week, so expect fun posts about housework from the eyes of someone who has NEVER owned a dishwasher before. Ever. In my whole life. Tune in soon, kids.

How do you know you are seriously out of shape?

When trying on sports bras is a challenge.

Or maybe it's that difficult for everyone.

Yesterday I stopped in at Lululemon on my lunch break. I adore all of their stuff, and if I was more active I would own tons of it. But spending $100 on a full-zip, and $90 on matching yoga pants is not that economical considering how much I would wear them. However, investing in their sports bras is definitely wise, since they are fantastic, comfy, cute, and I wear a sports bra every day.

So, they had a bunch on sale, and the fun colors and styles were mesmerizing, and before I knew it there I was in the change room with four bras, plus the one I had on. I have to say that at least their fitting rooms are a decent size, so I wasn't bouncing off the walls, banging my elbows and ass as I flailed in and out of each one.

The very mechanics of the sports bra really blow my mind. Not only to squeeze a giant elastic band over your torso, but also to have the straps that you have to maneuver through. The straps seem easy enough when you are pulling the bra on, but when you are practically on your knees in the fitting room, trying to reach one arm behind your back to pull it off over your head while your other arm is sticking straight up in the air, and you are kneeling down so that people outside won't see your arm swinging around over the top of the door - that's when you realize that this task is not for the faint of heart. And why can't you just pull the bra over your head from the front, like a T-shirt? Well, because then the giant elastic band gets stuck like a yoke around your arms and head and then both of your arms are flailing around trying to grasp some piece of fabric to get this thing off.

After two bras, I was doing okay. The first one was the pirouette. It was easy enough, like a tank top. Then I tried on the Sunshine. Because of the sliding back straps, it was also reasonable. I should have known it was all too easy, and that I should quit while I was ahead, but noooooo, I had to try on this, and its evil cousin, this. Suddenly I was perspiring and pulling muscles I never knew existed. And then you don't want to emerge from the fitting room all flushed and damp, so you have to wait a few minutes half naked, fanning yourself with your T-shirt. Or something like that.

Needless to say, I did not purchase either of the Y-backs. I got two of the Sunshines, since they were on sale, and super comfy. Now I hope I don't have to buy anymore sports bras until I am actually in good enough shape to make it through the trying on process.

How Gabby got her groove back

Okay, so I'm sorry that I'm leaving everybody hanging with this BIG news thing - I know it's driving people crazy, but there are some legal issues about why I can't talk about it specifically on the web. We have not bought a house. I am not pregnant. We have not set a wedding date. That should clear up a lot of inferences people may have had when I said BIG news.

All I can say is that it involves my career path, (not the writing one, although that has been going really well and taking this job was the best decision I've made to further my writing goals since taking my BA in Creative Writing), and taking on a lot more risk and responsibility, while making more money. I think those are all safe things to say for now. We (SB and I) are in the process of evaluating whether or not it's a good move to make, and if it is a good move, how we can get around a contract that could either cost us a lot of money to do this, cost the people we're dealing with a lot of money to do it, or cost us the chance of being able to do it at all. I know it's cryptic, but when things are concrete, I'll be able to post specifics.

My weekend was pretty fabulous. We watched Memoirs of a Geisha, which was good, although I think for people who didn't read the book it may have been confusing. I also did a bit of shopping yesterday all by myself, which was really relaxing, and I didn't even buy anything! I just browsed and perused, and bought a smoothie - I felt so fresh when I left.

On Saturday afternoon, we took the dogs to the dog park, which was pretty fun. Our dogs are super friendly, but not really that socialized with other dogs, so they are kinda overwhelmed at the dog park. They have no problem fighting and playing with each other, but at the dog park they seem kinda stumped as to how to proceed to make friends, and where the boundaries are about what's play and what's aggressive. Gabby spent most of the time getting close to dogs who were playing and sniffing, but not close enough, and then whining like she was saying "Hey - hey there - um, do you think I could play? Um, excuse me? Um, hi I'm Gabby, and um. Oh, um hey there." There was one dog that she like a lot and sniffed around a few times, but he was a pretty hyper bull mastiff, so he was really big and kept outrunning her. Also, a young Golden Retriever who was obviously not fixed or had been fixed too late took a liking to her - he kept mounting her to the point that his owner had to take him out of the park. He was absolutely fixated on her, and no other dogs in the park. I congratulated her for snagging such a youngin'.

Charlie spent most of the time just wandering around alone, then approaching random humans. There was also a six month old Basset named Boris at the park with all the same colorings as Charlie. They looked exactly the same, except the little guy was about half his size. Anyway, while Charlie isn't super social, he still let other dogs sniff him and investigate and stuff - but not this little guy. Everytime Boris came near him Charlie would bark in his face and run away. It was as though he was saying "I will not be traded in for a younger model - get away from me so they can't compare us." It was adorable.

Take my word for it - it's BIG

So, something REALLY BIG has come up, and it's not something I can really talk about right now. I really want to talk about it, but part of me knows I can't because a) I might get my hopes up too high for it and jinx it, and b) this thing has just come up, and it's literally just up there, in the air, with nothing really concrete to it yet. But take my word for it. It's BIG.

Now, along with this big thing comes a lot of excitement, but also a lot of anxiety. I'm surprised that I slept last night. I have this problem where when I get to really thinking about something, my mind just won't turn off. It just keeps going and going and there is no way it will turn off for something silly like say, sleep. And it's not even like what I'm thinking about necessarily involves whatever is causing the anxiety. I'll start making lists of things I need to do the following day - make a lunch, take out the trash, stop at the ATM so I'll have money for coffee, get gas, maybe switch two of my dogs around so that I can take a longer lunch. It can go on for hours. Then I start obsessing about how I will never be able to get up in the morning, and how I need to GET TO SLEEP get to sleep get to sleep now. It's really a problem.

Last night I slept fine. But I spent all day obsessing about this BIG THING, and I have a whole bunch of things to look up on the internet, and I'm sure that tonight when I lay down to sleep I will be caught up weighing all the information I found, and thinking of lists of things I forgot to research. Ugh. Maybe I will just get drunk and pass out. Or take some Benadryl.

One Prius, Two Prii?

Before the accident, we were talking about selling my beloved Jetta and leasing a new car. A new car with payments preferably close to what we are paying for Jetta, but without the headaches of a five year old car, and with better gas mileage since I only use it for work. Now the accident has delayed these plans for a bit, but I've nonetheless been noticing what's out there on the road.

I've been seeing a lot of those Prius cars. Sleek, kinda weird hind end, but the whole hybrid thing is really attractive. I would love to own a hybrid - not only is it good for the environment, (which I have to admit, I'm not exactly the "greenest" person in the world, but if it's convenient, why not?), but it is also super fuel-efficient thus less cost to the owner. Too bad the cost of this car is like twice the monthly payment for other compacts.

For example, I was looking at the Yaris (two Yarii? Okay, enough). The website lists the monthly lease, including taxes, with all the options I want, for like $340/month. The Prius, base model, is listed at $670/month!!!! Obviously some people who have the money for it, and are into the novelty of it are willing to pay that. But what kind of incentive is there for people like me, who would love to drive something socially responsible, since I do have to drive for my job, but can't afford the equivalent of a rent payment to do so?

I wish the government would step in and offer a special tax benefit, or a rebate, or maybe free gas for a certain term. I can understand that right now it costs more to manufacture these cars, therefore they must cost more, but in order to get the cost down, more people need to be able to purchase the cars so they can produce them in larger numbers. (Impressed by my analysis of this economic situation? Probably not, right?) So if the government offered some kind of benefit, people might be more apt to buy them, and before long, the benefit could be abolished, or maintained for a certain percentage of the purchase price, and more people would buy them and soon the whole world would be driving ecologically friendlier vehicles.

The chances of that happening are between 0 and 0.5, so I will maybe get a Yaris, because they are cute, small, fuel-efficient, and cute. And small, for parking. But mostly cute.

But first Jetta needs to go to the car doctor for a little reconstructive surgery, and maybe a boob job since she'll be there anyway.

The rash came back, the very next day....

So, the rash came back today, although ten times less nasty than yesterday thanks to some fabulous Benedryl which provided me with the best sleep I've had in weeks, and also some Reactine this morning. I am starting to think that I was quick to condemn this little guy:

Why would I jump to this conclusion? Perhaps because I did not want to believe that the evil-doer was this little guy:

This is Che, and he's 5 months old. He is sweet and gentle and calm, and is learning his training quickly. He's pretty much the perfect puppy. He makes me want to have a puppy. Even when he poops and it's green and runny, it still doesn't seem that bad cause he's just so damn sweet. Today, after walking him, was when I started to get my little red splotches again. I had been down on the floor playing fetch with him and cuddling him because who can resist a cuddle with a puppy? Who? Not me, that's who. And for a little guy who is being crate trained, it's important that he gets to do fun things like play fetch and cuddle so that he doesn't develop the urge to get back at whoever puts him in the crate. But I think he is already revolting against me, and we've only known each other a little over a month.

I have never in my life been allergic to any dog, ever. Or cat for that matter. Never. Not even a little sniffle. So I'm kind of traumatized that i might be allergic to an animal. I talked to my mom about it and she said that rashes can take days to fully go away, and can still flare up even if you haven't had contact with the offensive item (or doggie) for days. Since I only walk Che on Mondays and Tuesdays, we will see if my rash goes away by next week, and then if it comes back when I walk him again. Also, I'm pretty sure it's not Che himself that is giving me hives, but maybe whatever shampoo they're usingon him, or something else in the apartment. I'm pretty sad that if it's something to do with him I will have to give him up to one of my colleagues. I (heart) Che.

In other news, non-related to my disgusting skin issues, I was walking in the park yesterday when I saw this:

I know it's hard to see, but that's a guy running a metal detector-type machine in a baseball field. Now, if the guy looked a little sloppy, or if he was pursuing this endeavor alone, I would think it was just some guy looking for change lost during the winter. But there were three people with detectors, all dressed decently, all in the same corner of the field. One guy was on his hands and knees digging in the dirt. It made me think they were CSI or something looking for a body on a tip. Then that made me think that maybe I should watch less TV.

I'm 99.99% sure it's not herpes

Last week, my hands broke out in a disgusting mess of splotchy, itchy redness. I freaked out because I've never had hives or a rash before, and of course I called my mother, who is a nurse, and who I consult during all of my medical emergencies. She told me to take some Benedryl, and try to find out what caused the rash. I poured through my memory cache (my physical one, in my brain, not the one in my iBook) and decided that the offensive compound must be either my cucumber melon hand sanitizer or my new pear hand soap. I had been using both products for a few weeks, but they seemed to be the only things I had introduced to my skin recently. If it was the sanitizer, I could go and buy some not so fun unscented stuff, and it would still do the trick. If it was the soap, I would be very sad because it's a new pear scented one and it is ultra-yummy, but again, I could substitute for another, less fragrant soap. So I cut these two items out of my life.

Then, this afternoon, I noticed some small splotches on my hand.

I picked up two doggies, and we went up on The Mountain, and for an hour I kinda forgot about the splotches. I dropped my doggies off and got in my car and felt an over-whelming need to scratch. When I looked down at my hand, this is what I found:

Then the itching spread. By the end of my day, I had splotches all over my arms and my legs - basically all of my skin touching my jeans and sweatshirt. Right now, after two Benedryls, I still have a splotch about two inches square on my arm. I'm not that itchy anymore, except for the ones around my ankles. I have come to the following conclusion:

Snuggle Bear is trying to kill me.

Last autumn we switched to Snuggle liquid fabric softener for those times I hang the clothes out on the line. Because it was autumn, I barely had a chance to use it and probably only did like two loads using this product. During the past week, I've done two loads of laundry with the intention of hanging them on the line, and I'm pretty sure I was wearing clothes from these loads both times I broke out. Thank goodness I hadn't washed my underwear in it, but to be on the safe side I'm going to re-wash every pair in my drawer. I can just see Snuggle giggling his little ass off watching me scratch and wriggle.

Well, no more - I will be switching back to Downey. And I'm also going back to washing and sanitizing my hands. So take that Snuggle Bear.

So much more to look forward to

This week has been so BEAUTIFUL and went by so fast - I am so glad that spring is really here, and I am going to LOVE summer doing this job. Plus all these interesting things keep happening to me.

I was speaking with my boss today about random doggie things, and I was like "Shit, Nora, the other day I saw a dude taking a dump on The Mountain." Not only was she not surprised, nor did she gape in horror, she calmly said "Was he homeless?" and when I explained how well-dressed he was, and that I didn't think so, she said "I love The Mountain."

Apparently, summer on The Mountain is extremely eventful - last spring Nora saw a middle-aged man hiking through the woods (and as I explained, these woods are pretty thin, especially in springtime) wearing nothing but a hat and some sneakers. Hiking through the woods. In the middle of the city. Lots of people running and biking and walking their dogs. Naked. And I get Crapper Man.

I need to start carrying my camera everywhere - I'm missing WAY too many photo ops.

May I preface this post by saying - EEEEWWWW

Before I write this post, I have to say that Cass Winthrop is on Law and Order tonight (not as Cass Winthrop, but the actor who played Cass Winthrop) and he's playing the bad guy, and detective Fontana just gave him a swirly. It really made my day.

Another thing that made my day was what happened in the park today.

It was a lovely day today, about 15 Celsius with a nice breeze. I took my mini-group of dogs to the Mountain and we were off for a fine romp. The Mountain is Mount Royal park, and if you've never been to Montreal it's kind of like Central Park, only a huge mountain in the middle of the city. There are trails, and bike paths and people bike, run, walk doggies, and even cross-country ski in the winter. It's really beautiful, with winding groomed trails that are bigger than most streets in the city, plenty of trash cans and benches, and a gorgeous view of the city below.

We made our way up the first straightaway on the zigzag path, and met some lovely puppies on our way. We stopped to talk to someone who was concerned I was cold in my three-quarter length sleeve t-shirt. I told him I was fine, and that we walk at a brisk pace so I get quite warm. He continued ahead, but I kept my eye on him because I found him slightly creepy. As we wound around the first hairpin turn, he took off on one off the bike paths that go straight up the mountain. I watched until he was out of sight, then we mosied on. One of the doggies (whose name is Number Nine, isn't that kinda strange? And the dog I walk her with is named Samba. Samba and Number Nine. But they don't live together, and aren't related, they just take walks with us and live next door to each other. I wonder if Number Nine's family named her that hoping they would be friends. Hm.) took a poo, which I picked up diligently. When I looked up to find a garbage can, I spotted one not far away, but what I saw almost right behind it really threw me off.

Beside a tree, right off the trail I saw something horrific (like three feet off, and by "off the trail" I literally just mean off the trail - there are no bushes or anything, not even any grass at this time of year.) There was a dude squatting and taking a dump.

I wasn't sure he was actually taking a dump at first, because he was squatted really low, kinda like he was examining something at the foot of the tree. He looked normal enough, wearing a nice parka and a tuque. I was on my way to throw my doggie doo bag in the trash can when he stood up. To clench off his business. And to wipe himself. Like ten feet away from me. Gross.

Needless to say I veered away from the trash can pretty quickly, opting to hang on to my doodies until I came across another garbage. I didn't look back to see if he bagged his doodies, too.

A rant, but with a little perspective

I had a bad day today.

Even though the sun was shining and it was warm out, even though I did not get rear-ended, nor did I get any traffic/parking tickets, I just generally didn't feel like leaving the house today and so I spent most of the day thinking "When exactly is this day going to end? This is the longest day of my life." What would I have done if I had stayed home? I'm not sure if it's spring fever or what, but I am in the mood to: a) bake bread, b) wash all the walls and curtains, c) organize our spare room and pull out stuff to sell in a yard sale, d) finish knitting Charlie's sweater, e) do umpteen loads of laundry so I can hang them on the clothesline (there's nothing like clothes hung on the line - even if you do find beetles in your socks every once in a while), and an endless list of other little chores and tasks.

Regardless, I was at work. And I didn't feel like it. So traffic seemed ten times heavier than usual. And my half-hour walks seemed to take twice as long, even though I know thirty minutes is thirty minutes. It was so warm, my jeans felt hot and sticky. Pedestrians kept randomly wandering into the street because, hey, it's spring, so I guess that means everyone is walking now and cars suddenly don't exist. I got into a shouting match with a lady in one of those scooters from The Scooter Store, because she was annoying, and I'm sure she was only using that scooter because she was fat, not because she was handicapped in any way. The annoying dogs seemed even more annoying than usual, pulling and jerking me around until I thought I wouldn't be able to walk upright anymore. One dog had an embarrassing bout of diarrhea, which is the worst thing for a dog-walker because it's impossible to pick up, but people still look at you like you're disgusting. Hey, guess what? Dogs shit outdoors. They piss outdoors too. But we don't pick up their piss because it's a liquid and that's impossible. Sure, it's bad for grass (worse than poo), and it smells bad, and since you can't see it you probably just laid your picnic blanket down in a huge puddle of it and now your PB & J sandwiches have an extra little P in them. But you can't pick it up, and you can't see it, so people just forget about it. Well, when shit comes out like piss, guess what? YOU CAN'T PICK THAT UP EITHER. So, just because you can see it, it is still against the laws of physics to have it removed. Unless you have a hose to wash it away with, then fuck off and move along.

Anyway, so these among other things made my day interminable. But you know what? This day was still probably 200% better than my best days at IKEA, and Gap, and probably both of those best days put together. I didn't even break into tears. Not even once. So when my bad days are still this good, I guess I have a whole hell of a lot to be thankful for.

I won The Big Prize

Last Wednesday Sexy Boyfriend and I had Chinese food. Our fortune cookies were actually good this time, no stupid quotes or weird random adages, but real fortunes. Sexy Boyfriend's fortune said "Your hard work will soon pay off". Like two days later, he closed a big deal at work that he's been working on forever.

My fortune said "You will win the big prize." I of course set out on regimen of lotto tickets and scratch tickets and Rolllll up the RRRRim to Win, but alas, all I got was a forceful bump in the rear from an old man. A week has gone by, and I have not won $20 million dollars, or even $5 on Bingo scratch tickets, or even a free donut with my coffee.

Then, today, one week later, I came home from work with pee on my leg (later), and the phone rang. Apparently, I have won the Big Prize! I signed up online to win tickets to a snowboarding event this weekend, and lo and behold I won! Four tickets, value of $180! So, it's not $20 million, but it's a prize, and it's pretty big, and it's something I wouldn't spend money on myself. I'm pretty excited!

In other news, I took my Great Dane to the park today, and because she is shy around other dogs, I generally have to follow her around everywhere to reassure her that her interactions are indeed mandated in the Rules of the Dog Park, and that it is completely normal for all the doggies to be sniffing her ass (if they can reach). While petting her on the head and urging her to participate in a group game of "KILL - BITE - BARK - KILL", a lovely male Rottweiler snuck up behind me and peed all over my leg. I laughed it off, and his owner reprimanded him and apologized, but really at that point I didn't care. I spend all day with dogs. I don't freak out when I discover a hole in the baggie. I have no problem wiping their drool with my bare hand and then wiping it on my pants. Dog stuff is okay by me (kid stuff is a WHOLE nother story). Then we got into the car and realized that I had not been peed on by just any normal dog. I had been peed on by Dog Whose Urine Comes From Skunk-like Glands. God it smelled bad. And I had three more appointments after that one, so I was paranoid that one of those dogs would be upset that I had been marked by some other dog and then would try and mark me themselves. Then, I had to go to the grocery store on the way home - so I hope the smell had dissipated by then. Who knows, right, cause when you stink you usually can't tell, only the people around you notice.

So, here's a photo of my baby darling who was worth being peed on:

So now I only have one pain in my neck

So, it's been three days since the accident, and I am feeling 90% better. I still have a bit of a sore lower back, but my neck feels better (on Friday when I woke up I felt like I had been lifting barbells with my head my neck muscles were so tight). I think I was a bit concussed, because I've had a raging headache for three days straight which pretty much only goes away when I'm sleeping or drugged. Like I've said, I'm pretty sure my brain got a good thwacking, so I expect it to take a little while to pop back into shape. It's all good, though, and I'll be back to work tomorrow.

Yesterday I took my Gabby dog to the dog park to give myself a bit of a test-run with doggies. She's a terrible test-runner, though, cause she's so gentle, but we played a bit of fetch and tug, and I felt fine. She is so funny around strange dogs - she whines at them as if she's asking permission to play, and they're like "dude, what the hell is wrong with you?" She was trying to chase a little Jack Russell around the park, but she was very tired, so she would chase for a bit, and then stop, and wait for the dog to circle back around towards her. Ya, for sure she's my dog.

After the dog park, we went for dinner because my Papa is in town. He and his wife are staying with his wife's family, and they invited us over for dinner at five o'clock. I fell asleep on the sofa after the dog park, and Sexy Boyfriend was at the office. I woke up and it was five to five, and he still wasn't home. So, of course, we ended up being 45 minutes late. I hate being late. I made sure he made it clear when we got there that it was his fault we were not on time. No one really seemed to care, but it really bothers me that he's always late for things, and then makes me late as well. Grrr.

Today, I'm just going to take it easy and try to take some drugs on my last day of rest before going back to work.

Another argument for Senior Citizen driving tests

So, my morning was the worst morning I've had in a while. I made my lunch (frozen dinner, heated, in a thermos) and started the car. Drove down the road and got a coffee, a Coke for later, and some throat drops, and went on my way to work. It was just after ten. I decided to take a different road to work, to see if it was any faster than my regular route. It started out well, and I was about halfway to my destination when I had to stop at a red light behind a Toyota Echo. I was shuffling through songs on my iPod trying to find something suitable. We were on a four lane street, but during non-peak times, the curb-side lane is for parking, and was full to my right. Just as I found an appropriate song, BANG.

I was slammed from behind, and my car was pushed forward so that I hit the Echo, although not very hard (so softly, in fact, that I didn't even remember the impact until me and Sexy Boyfriend were inspecting the car later.) After the initial bang, I then heard a scraping and more banging to my right as the car that hit me proceeded to sideswipe three parked cars (including a meter-reader who was in his car writing out a ticket), and then rear-end the Echo in front of me.

I was shocked for a second, and when I saw that the meter-reader was calling for police, I immediately called Sexy Boyfriend, since I have never had an accident and it's been 11 years since my Young Drivers instructor explained what to do when if I was ever in one. He told me he would be right there, so I hung up and got out of the car.

The driver of the offending vehicle was already out of the car, and I was INFURIATED. Not only were his glasses thicker than my thumb, but he was at least 87 years old. I'm not even joking. I thought he was broken when he got out of the car, but that's just the way he walks. He was bragging to the cop that he had been driving for 66 years (I'm not even exaggerating, it was really 66 years) and had never had an accident. I would argue that he never had an accident that he was aware of. Then he tells the cop that he couldn't stop - that he pressed the brake down as far as he could, but the car just kept speeding up. Yeah, so that wasn't the brake, then, I guess.

Anyway, I'm pretty much fine. I have a terrible headache and my lower back hurts, but so far my neck is okay and all that stuff. I feel like I may have a concussion cause I'm pretty sure I felt my brain smash into my fore-skull, but so far no puking or black-outs. Unless you count the drug-induced stupor I put myself into when I got home to get rid of my back pain.

Who needs a winter hobby anyway?

I really hold our annual vacation south sacred. Almost the second we get back, I start surfing the internet to compare the reviews that other resorts are getting, and researching which beaches have the best sand. I start hunting for swimsuits in September (although I'm still not motivated enough to start dieting in September so I have a little less muffin top hangin' out of my two piece.) I look forward to it all year, especially when the snow starts falling.

On my never-ending quest to get Sexy Boyfriend to buy me some snowboarding gear, I finally got him to go take a look at the snowboard I want. He hummed and hawed while he inspected it, and every other board there, plus all the bindings and boots. Then said "Okay, let's go." We shopped for a bit more, and when we got back to the car he said, "I'd be willing to buy you the snowboard if you're willing to give up Cuba next year and take a ski vacation instead."

WHAT?

The whole point of our winter vacation is to GET OUT OF THE SNOW AND COLD, not run towards it like idiots! The point of the snowboard is to make the weekends pass faster in between summer and our vacation, and then our vacation and summer. There should be no mixing of snowboard and vacation. No mixing at all.

So, I guess I'm not getting a snowboard, which I'm pretty bummed about. We can still go snowboarding, but rental equipment (well, rental boots) pretty much freaks the hell out of mel, so we'll see how that goes. Plus, each time I've rented nothing ever really fit quite right and I ended up feeling uncomfortable the whole time. We'll see what ends up happening.

Not your father's polygamy

Wow, so I've been pretty busy. But I'm back!

My sister was visiting for the past week, so I was busy entertaining her, plus working. I think she had a pretty good time - we hung out, visited a museum, shopped, etc. And I think she got plenty of rest time while I was at work. I sure had lots of fun, but was pretty exhausted by the end of it. Which made me really happy that last night was an AMAZING TV night!

As I've mentioned before, I am a TV addict, and I have a satellite which enables me to feed my addiction about three times more than normal TV addicts. My night last night included the Sunday regulars: Law and Order Criminal Intent, Grey's Anatomy, and The West Wing (finally a new episode, finally Josh and Donna are getting together!), and then later on Cold Case, which I was half sleeping through, but whatever. But also, after almost two years of waiting, The Sopranos came back last night!

Sexy Boyfriend and I are Sopranos crazy, so the anticipation has been killing us, and the show did not disappoint. We got a quick view of what most of the main characters have been up to (Janice had a baby?! What's with AJ's hair?) There were two great storylines introduced, one about a mob guy trying to retire, and another about Carmella's business relationship with her dad. It ended with Tony being shot by crazy Uncle Junior, which is insane! I feel like it's impossible that he's going to die from it, but I can't wait to see what happens next!

We also watched the new show, Big Love, about the polygamist in Utah. For a first episode, where you're learning about the characters and a lot of stuff is being revealed in not-so-subtle ways, I was really drawn into this show. The three families live like modern families, but their parents still live on a commune in the "traditional" polygamist way. I felt sympathy for all of the characters, it was funny, and the premise makes it fresh. I really recommend it, no matter how you feel about polygamy.

Mish mash

I'm still trying to get into the whole snowboarding thing. The problem so far has been the weather, in that it does not cooperate and give us nice weather on weekends when a) we're both free for a whole day or b) we have no family visiting. It would be great to go one evening after work, but I REALLY need to take a lesson, and there's not enough time in an evening to get a lesson in and any amount of practice time.

However, of course, I have found the perfect gear so that I would look damn cute while falling on my ass. You can see the board I want here. I'm trying to convince Sexy Boyfriend to buy it for me, but I'm not sure that it's working. Good thing I'm not the type who gives up easily.

My sister arrived for a little visit on Friday night, so I've been pretty busy. Saturday we grocery shopped, and then prepared some dishes for Oscar night. Sunday was some shopping (okay, like three hours of shopping....) and then our Oscar night extravaganza with tons of great food and drinks and heckling the TV for five hours. Yesterday we took it easy - I had to work, and by the time I got home we just chilled and watched TV. Today she came to work with me. I'm exhausted, and it's only Tuesday. I need to go to bed early, and I think my sister can't wait to have a day to sleep.

Which is better - this one or this one ?

I have an appointment with the optometrist tomorrow. I'm pretty excited, mostly because my last pair of contacts ripped in half about a month ago which is making this freezing cold weather very difficult for my dog-walking ass. (My glasses keep fogging up all the time, so I can't cover my face too much - I think I'm getting frostbite on my cheeks.)

My first eye doctor creeped the hell out of me. Like wet willy creepy. He was older (in his fifties) and kinda balding. I was like 7 when I first starting going. He smelled funny, and I hated it when he looked in my eye with that little light-scope thingy - he had to get so close to my face I could feel his breath on my cheeks - creepy.

When I was 15, my eye doctor retired (so sad), and I got a new eye doctor who was pretty much right out of university, semi-hip in that doctor kinda way, and I thought he was pretty cute. He was the first doctor to give me contacts, and I didn't find his close-up exams so creepy. (A similar phenomenon occurred when my fat old dentist retired and was replaced by a younger one - twice a year cleanings just weren't enough anymore).

Anyway, I really got along with this new eye doctor, and was happy with his services until I moved away. So, imagine my shock when my sister told me two years ago that she hated Dr. Smith (not his real name). How could anyone hate the doctor who could give an exam in such a non-creepy way?

"He's trying to keep me from getting glasses."
Maybe you don't need glasses.
"I do need glasses, I can't see the friggin' board."
I'm sure if you needed glasses he would give them to you - he doesn't make very much money if you don't need glasses.
"Well, I need glasses, and he won't give them to me."
If anything, he would give you glasses if you didn't need them and tell you that you did, not the other way around.
"Well, he won't give me them. He has it out for me."

My mother's insurance only covers eye exams every two years, so for two years we had to hear about how Dr. Smith had it out for her, and that it was a huge conspiracy, the fact that he wouldn't give her glass. How she was suffering from headaches because she needed glasses and he wouldn't give them to her. That she wouldn't get in to university because eventually this would lead to crappy grades, and then it would all go to hell because of Dr. Smith.

When the time came for another exam, my mother made an appointment with a different eye doctor.

So, how did it go.
"She says mmmphmmmph mph."
What?
"She says I don't need glasses."
Oh, really?
"She says maybe my eyes are just dry. She gave me some drops."

MEOW

This week, at work, I was cornered by a cat. I am by no means scared of animals, but for some reason this cat scared the crap out of me. Maybe it was because he looked a little mangy, a little dirty - he was black, and had long fur, but his fur was all matted and kind of sticking out everywhere. Maybe it was because he would sneak up behind me when I was least expecting it. Maybe it was because if I looked at him he would growl incessantly like I just shaved him and now everyone could see he had no balls.

Anyway, when I arrived at the house, he seemed altogether normal. It's normal for cats to be a little worried when a stranger comes into their house, and they will sometimes hiss and run away. I'm cool with that - I don't try to press the whole friendship thing by any means, but if you want to eat, just go hide out until I'm gone. This apartment was set up with the living room, dining room, and kitchen on the left, in that order as you enter, all opening into each other, then a hallway running from the entrance to the dining room, and on the right the master bedroom, bathroom (which has a door to the hall and to the master bedroom) and a second bedroom. So, the only way to enter the kitchen in through the dining room, but you can get into the dining room through the living room or the hall.

So, now that you get the general picture, the cat likes to hide in the living room under the TV stand - this would be easy to avoid him, just bypass through the hallway. But when I came in the house, he would stand in the entryway to the living room, which I have to walk past to get to the kitchen to feed him. The first day I was there, he didn't like that idea at all. He started growling as I approached the door, slinking along the opposite wall of the hall. I avoided his eyes and tried to coo a bit. His growling got louder, then he hissed a few times. Then, out of nowhere, as I tried to scoot past him, he growled and meowed really loud - like alley-cat loud - and lunged at me, lashing out with his claws. I jumped into the bathroom, and he kept on the offensive in the hallway, growling and staring me down. I tried to leave the bathroom and he lashed out again, so I slammed the bathroom door in his face. I could hear him growling outside the door, so I went out through the master bedroom and decided to take care of his litter, which is in the basement and the stairs are off the entryway. When I came back up, he was back under the TV stand and the rest of the visit was normal.

By the end of the week, he was in love with me. And by "in love with me" I mean tolerated me. And by "tolerated me" I mean didn't back me into a corner every day. I think trick was learning to never ever be in the same room as him without a packet of catnip in my hand.

Oooooohhhhhhmmmmmm

Because I'm outside at least fifty percent of my day walking dogs, I am now getting about, oh, I'd say 300% more exercise everyday than I used to get. Being that I used to get none and now I am getting like three - four hours a day. Anyway, while I was used to being on my feet when I was working at Gap, my muscles were not used to being propelled in a forward motion at such a rapid pace. When I get home at night, my legs feel twitchy. I take a nice hot shower, and they relax a bit, but by the time I get into bed, they are all twitchy again and I can't fall asleep.

So, I decided to try yoga.

I tried yoga once before, back when I was actually in cardiovascular shape, and wanted to do something fun for strength training. So, I bought a yoga tape. However, the tape I purchased was more of a "build your flexibility slowly, until you can wrap your toes behind your ears" than a "build your muscles quickly, until you are lean and sleek and oh so hot" kinda tape, and after five minutes or so of practicing and then another fifteen minutes of checking out the rest of the tape to see if there was anything that looked remotely interesting, I gave up.

Tonight when I got home from work I dug that tape out from the back of our video drawer and popped it in. I set up my mat in front of the TV and started doing my yoga, this time seriously. It actually felt quite good, although I only got through about twenty minutes of the hour long tape. Not because it was too hard - I was really feeling it, more the stretch and tension release than the spiritual oneness kinda thing. While moving through one salutation, from Downward Dog to plank, my cat curled up under me on the mat and decided this was the perfect place for a nap. While doing a rolling-ball type thing, I rolled forward once, then back and bashed into my dog who was sitting at one end of the mat. Then to top it all off, as I bent forward and wrapped my wrists behind my ankles (okay, behind my knees, but still not so bad, I think), my glasses slid off my nose in that oh so cute way that makes me say "$1000 an eye? Lasik here I come". (I ripped my last contact two weeks ago, and my insurance doesn't kick in for new ones until February 22nd.)

So, was it a success? We'll see if I can fall alseep tonight without twitchy legs. But it did feel good while I was doing it, so once I get my contacts I'll give it another go, I think.

On a crappy day, there's nothing like a good Goose

Yesterday was a very cold day, and so windy that one of my little doggies almost blew away. All over the city things were blowing off of buildings, trees were losing limbs, there was a 70 car pile-up on the highway (for once I'm not exaggerating), and it was just a generally dangerous situation.

And it was freezing cold.

But, I only had a couple of doggies yesterday, so it wasn't so bad. Most of the doggies were pretty angry that they had to go outside. They would look up at me with this "I you fucking joking, lady? I know they pay you for this, but come on..." kinda look. All of them except for this guy:

That's Goosie, and he is one of my sweetest doggies. He is super hyper and always ready to go, but is also extremely smart. I love that I get to see him at the end of my day, when I'm starting to get tired and I feel like I'm ready to go home, because no matter what he's going to lift my spirits. He loves to play fetch, and is so smart he will bring the ball to within like three feet of me and drop it, and when I say "no, Goose, bring it to me", he will push it toward me with his nose until I pick it up and he can chase it again. Also, he won't let me put his harness on him until he has given me a kiss hello. Then he sits down and lets me get him ready for his walk. I love him, and would think of abducting him if I didn't think I would get caught.

Tonight we are going for our Valentine's Day dinner. We haven't been out for a nice dinner in a while, which is actually kinda weird for us, so I'm pretty excited. Tomorrow I'm supposed to go to a bridal show with my friend Al, which is usually fun/depressing, but you get tons of free stuff, so I can't very well pass that up, now can I?

I don't like Dream Jules

So, the new truck has arrived, and it's pretty sweet. I think it will be mighty convenient for us to have two cars, but I can't help but be sad that we won't have that time together. That twenty minutes or so on the way to work and the way home when we crack jokes and talk-sing along to the radio. Sometimes it's the only time we have together in the whole day. I'm mourning for our morning time.

Today was a really weird weather day in that it started out at like -4, and clear, then it turned to a white-out blizzard that dumped like 10cm in about two hours, then it cleared up again and is supposed to go up to +7 tonight and rain. I fell like three times, really hard on my ass. The layer of snow was not deep enough so when I stepped, my foot would go through all the snow, and then underneath was a sheet of ice because yesterday was like +10. My first fall was pretty painful - I jarred my right arm pretty hard. The other two I just kind of let myself slide, so only my ass connected, and not even really that hard. I finally put my anti-slip thingies on my boots and that put a stop to that.

And finally, totally unrelated to anything, I have had two dreams, two nights in a row, involving the Gilmore Girls. In the first dream, I was Rory's bestfriend and we were hanging out for Valentine's Day because her boyfriend (Logan, if you watch) was out of the country. Then this big bodyguard looking dude showed up and swept us away to Logan's surprise present, which was a private swim with dolphins. It was really cool and fun. Then last night, I had a dream that I was in university again, and that Logan came to visit me and we ended up sleeping together. What kind of a bestfriend is Dream Jules, anyway?

~Happy Valentine's Day~

Well, it's Valentine's Day. I generally like any holiday where gifts are given, however this year, I am poor-ass broke, so I wasn't able to buy Sexy Boyfriend very much. I got us some chocolates and a cake from the ultra-yummy bakery Patisserie de Gascogne. I had heard a lot about it, but had never actually bought anything there, and then it was right on my way to my car from the last doggie of the day. We both almost had orgasms over the chocolates on the way home, and the cake was a super-yummy dessert.

Sexy Boyfriend, on the other hand, is not poor-ass broke. He went out and bought us a brand new digital camera!!! This is it (or something extremely similar):

It's really tiny and handy, which is pretty cool. It has all the features of our old camera except for a little more in the Mega-Pixel area, and a little more handy in the video-takage area. Not that I take that many videos, but it might be cool to take videos of my doggies.

So, that's a super fun surprise! We are going to do our "celebration" on the weekend, which generally entails going to The Keg and eating massive quantities of beef and drinking massive quantities of wine, then coming home and passing out because we are such gluttons. I can't wait!

Also in big news, we are getting a second car. Actually, we are getting a New car and Jetta is being demoted to Second car, which I think she is pretty sad about. She's been feeling a bit neglected lately, seeing as how we rented a car over the holidays and left her here alone, and then we went to Cuba and left her with SB's brother, and now she is jam-packed full of doggie paraphenalia and dirty as hell. She looks like a hobo car. Like no one loves her. But I do love her, and in a week or so when she is mine all mine, she will see.

SB will be driving to work in one of these:


and I will be able to use it when it is snowy weather outside, which will be exciting in that I will not feel as though I am taking my life in my hands as I navigate the icy streets of the Plateau amongst all the other crazy people who drive cars for a living and therefore think they are invincible.

So, I sign off saying what I heard Halle Berry say today on Access Hollywood. She said something like, "If you're with someone, I wish you a great day together, if you don't have someone, I wish for you to find someone, and if you don't want no one, then that's cool too."

I guess for now I'll just keep stinking

While on vacation, I discovered that I am a bather.

Our hotel had a beautiful bath tub. Not a jacuzzi tub, a real tub, made for one person, with the sole purpose of bathing. It was slightly longer than a standard tub, but was deep enough that when full, I was completely submerged. Knees and boobs. And then, to complete this perfect tub, the back was sloped for lounging, and the sides had perfect shelves such that my elbows rested perfectly on them while I read a magazine. I took a bath there at least every second day, with water so hot that I could barely stand it. (I know it's super bad for your skin, but I love the way it feels!)

Now, I am back home. And I miss bathing.

I hate my tiny apartment tub with its twelve inches of water and sharp porcelain edges. I hate trying to balance between soaking my legs and my torso. I've tried a couple of times since we've been home, but it's just not enjoyable. No matter how hot the water is, I can never fully warm up and relax.

Damn those Cubans with their full-bodied cigars, minty drinks and enjoyable bath tubs.

When this world makes you crazy.....

I just want to say how much I love the Dove commercial with all the cute girls and the song "True Colors". If you haven't seen it, go here. It almost makes me cry every time. I think about how I felt growing up. Hell, how I feel a lot of the time now. I think about my sisters, and I hope they know how beautiful they are.

I hope you watch the commercial, and then go tell someone you know how fabulous they are.

Like some kind of alien spores

Well, it's been almost a week, and there's no sign of our camera. Also, our research shows that we do not have any baggage insurance with any of our credit cards. I didn't really use the camera that often, but for some reason I feel as though my right arm has been cut off. I keep thinking of all the things I could be taking photos of. All the great stuff I'm missing the opportunity to post on my blog. I feel jipped. I feel sad. I feel an extremely strong urge to go out and buy a digital SLR.

But, alas, I am broke, and so any replacement we buy will be the normal, point and shoot variety. Which is fine, that's what we had before and I loved it. But I feel like this is the moment, if ever there was a moment, where we could actually own a digital SLR, and if we go out and buy a regular digital, from here on it will be "should we invest in the SLR?", "well, we already have a digital, and we already have the 35mm SLR, do we really need to shell out that kind of cash?" But budgets are budgets, so I will continue pining, and maybe when I publish my first book I will buy a digital SLR.

One thing that has appeased my worried mind since coming back from vacation is the fact that none of my huge bug bites developed into small spider nests where a spider has laid eggs, and then like a week later the giant lump on your skin spills open to hundreds of tiny spiders. Nope, none of my giant bites were spider nests. They were just really huge bug bites that were maddeningly itchy, and actually pretty hard. You know how mosquito bites are like squishy? These bites were not squishy - they were hard, which is why I thought they were full of some kind of foreign body, like maybe spider eggs or something. But they are almost all gone now, except for one on my ankle. This one is the worst, cause it rubs against my boots ALL day in the car, but my boots are too tall for me to reach the bite and scratch. I hope it's gone soon.

This week I had the chance to walk a Bernese and a Dachshund, my two favorite dogs in the whole world. I felt like it was my birthday. In the spirit of birthdays, if any of you are thinking of buying me a present, I would love to have a Nikon D50. Or something.

My open apology to Judie, possessor of the discipline I so sadly lack

I need to make an open, public apology to my friend Judie.

Judie and I studied Creative Writing together, and she was an amazing editing buddy and critic. Since graduation, unlike myself who has been alternating between procrastination, frustration, and depression and therefore not getting anything done, Judie has been finishing the novel she began in our last year.

Right before Christmas Judie emailed me saying that we should get back into our critiques via email, and she sent me several pages of the novel to look over. Two months later, I still haven't sent her anything back, and I FEEL SO GUILTY!!! I am such a slacker and a terrible friend! I haven't written very much of my own stuff, either, so I can't even say I'm neglecting her because my own artistic juices are flowing. So, now that I'm back from vacation, I have seriously started reviewing Judie's work. But I just need to say that my delay in getting to it is in no way a reflection of how I feel about Judie's work, nor is it a reflection of any resentment I feel towards Judie. It is simply me being lazy.

Judie has not called me on my laziness, nor has she expressed any disdain for my laziness. This makes me feel even more guilty because it makes me feel like I'm being a terrible person to Judie who is such a fantastic, understanding person. She's also a great writer, and I am extremely proud of her for finishing this piece.

So, internet, I need to leave you now so I can do a bit of editing for Judie. She is going to be famous someday soon.