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.
Friday, March 31, 2006
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
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:
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:
Sunday, March 19, 2006
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.
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.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
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.
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.
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.
Monday, March 13, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, March 07, 2006
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.
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.
Wednesday, March 01, 2006
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."
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."
Sunday, February 26, 2006
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.
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.
Monday, February 20, 2006
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.
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.
Saturday, February 18, 2006
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?
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?
Thursday, February 16, 2006
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?
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?
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
~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."
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."
Wednesday, February 08, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
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.
I hope you watch the commercial, and then go tell someone you know how fabulous they are.
Sunday, February 05, 2006
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.
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.
Friday, February 03, 2006
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.
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.
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
I'm back in full effect y'all
I've been back from vacation for like 36 hours, and I already miss the sunshine. And the rum. We had an amazing time, with tons of relaxing and lounging and eating and drinking. My skin is very close to Raisin Bran colored - actually between Raisin Bran and Vector - and I only burned a few spots due to careless sunscreen application. I don't think it will peel, though, so that's good.
Our resort was gorgeous. We arrived and were whisked into a little hall-like room with cocktails and snacks - this is where they checked us in and it took about two minutes. Then they put our bags on a 6 seat golf cart and took us for a spin around the resort to show us where restaurants were, the pool, the bars, etc., and after that was done the bell boy drove us to our little complex and brought our bags up to our room. The room had a mini-fridge that they stocked with beer, cola and water every day, a coffee maker with coffee packets, a big beautiful bathroom with a separate shower, tiled vanity, and super-deep tub, and a big walk-in closet with drawers and a safe. Although we were at the end of the resort furthest from the beach, it ended up being awesome. We could pack up for the day and go to the beach, but all the "errand" type stuff was super close: the front desk, restaurants, two bars, the money exchange lady, etc.
The lobby bar had a piano/sax combo every night that played popular American standards, so we sat there a few nights enjoying that - there was also a table every night with chilled champagne, in case the bar line-up was too long you could have a nice little glass of bubbly. It was actually quite good.
We had some windy days, but even though it made it cool it was still very sunny and we could still lay out and read. The food was good, with lots of choices at the buffet and a really good Italian restaurant. On Saturday we visited Havana - we joined our friends who stayed at another resort on a tour. It was really interesting and fun, and I didn't have to feel bad about wasting a beach day since it was windy again.
I could go on for days about how fantastic everything was, but there is one thing that ended up sucky. Our camera was stolen out of our baggage. Or at least we think it was. The night before we left I asked SB where he had put the camera. He told me he put it in one of the suitcases we planned on checking. I said "Don't put it there, put it in the carry-on so that we always have it with us." Now he can't remember if he took it out of the checked bag or not, but it wasn't with us when we arrived in Cuba and now that we're back we can't find it anywhere. I'm so pissed cause I loved that camera - my mummy bought it for us last Christmas and since then I have been a complete digital convert (I used to be hard-core 35mm SLR). So now I'm trying to check with all our credit cards to see if any of them have a baggage coverage, or if they are just for cancellations. We're also in search mode to see if we actually did leave it behind and now it's hiding from us. I've already gone over the usual hiding spots a half dozen times, so I'm starting to lose hope that it's around here anywhere. We bought a crappy Cuban disposable camera, so we'll see how those pictures turn out. Hopefully we will get at least one great shot of us all crispy and brown.
Our resort was gorgeous. We arrived and were whisked into a little hall-like room with cocktails and snacks - this is where they checked us in and it took about two minutes. Then they put our bags on a 6 seat golf cart and took us for a spin around the resort to show us where restaurants were, the pool, the bars, etc., and after that was done the bell boy drove us to our little complex and brought our bags up to our room. The room had a mini-fridge that they stocked with beer, cola and water every day, a coffee maker with coffee packets, a big beautiful bathroom with a separate shower, tiled vanity, and super-deep tub, and a big walk-in closet with drawers and a safe. Although we were at the end of the resort furthest from the beach, it ended up being awesome. We could pack up for the day and go to the beach, but all the "errand" type stuff was super close: the front desk, restaurants, two bars, the money exchange lady, etc.
The lobby bar had a piano/sax combo every night that played popular American standards, so we sat there a few nights enjoying that - there was also a table every night with chilled champagne, in case the bar line-up was too long you could have a nice little glass of bubbly. It was actually quite good.
We had some windy days, but even though it made it cool it was still very sunny and we could still lay out and read. The food was good, with lots of choices at the buffet and a really good Italian restaurant. On Saturday we visited Havana - we joined our friends who stayed at another resort on a tour. It was really interesting and fun, and I didn't have to feel bad about wasting a beach day since it was windy again.
I could go on for days about how fantastic everything was, but there is one thing that ended up sucky. Our camera was stolen out of our baggage. Or at least we think it was. The night before we left I asked SB where he had put the camera. He told me he put it in one of the suitcases we planned on checking. I said "Don't put it there, put it in the carry-on so that we always have it with us." Now he can't remember if he took it out of the checked bag or not, but it wasn't with us when we arrived in Cuba and now that we're back we can't find it anywhere. I'm so pissed cause I loved that camera - my mummy bought it for us last Christmas and since then I have been a complete digital convert (I used to be hard-core 35mm SLR). So now I'm trying to check with all our credit cards to see if any of them have a baggage coverage, or if they are just for cancellations. We're also in search mode to see if we actually did leave it behind and now it's hiding from us. I've already gone over the usual hiding spots a half dozen times, so I'm starting to lose hope that it's around here anywhere. We bought a crappy Cuban disposable camera, so we'll see how those pictures turn out. Hopefully we will get at least one great shot of us all crispy and brown.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)