cat

BAHAHAHA

2011-01-03T15:38:00.002-06:00

WOW, I REALLY meant it last time, eh?

Looks like it's "New Year's Resolution, take 2"!!!

Guess I got m'self caught up in life....and work....and oh yeah, my family! Whoopsies! I honestly can NOT believe it's been a whole GD year already. What gives?!

Imma givin' this another go here......as soon as I get the laundry done......!

That's it, I'm starting to blog again

2010-01-11T23:03:00.003-06:00

Donovan can do it, and so can I!

I too will resurrect my piece of the blogosphere, and I will do so with flyin' colours! Many a-blog-worthy thing has happened to me, and I know there will be no shortage of such said instances, so to save my account from being deactivated, I needed to post a note to let you all know (if anyone is still out there?!) that I'M BAAAACK!!!

Stay tuned....

Glass Tiger is NOT managed by a "baby doctor"

2007-08-19T18:33:00.000-05:00

First off, let me start by saying TRACY!!!

:)

There's your shout out! Thanks for coming to visit my lil' blog, even though I don't update it nearly enough as I need to!

Ok, now that we got that formality outta the way!...

I'm in a serious predicament here!

Dono and I are HUGE Glass Tiger fans! (Because I work at WestJet, I'm able to look up the names of "celebrities" who've travelled with us, and last summer, I noticed Alan Frew and the boys were coming our way for a show - so Dono and I showed up at the airport to greet them off the plane!)

We met the band, got some autgraphs, went to the show the next night, and had a blast! A few days later, I emailed their manager to thank him for being so gracious with us, and to say what a wicked time we had at the show! He responded and thanked us for coming, yadda yadda yadda.

WELL...

Fast forward to present day...I was recently checking out the GT website, and lo and behold, I see they're COMING BACK TO WINNIPEG....on December 31st!

HOORAY!

Oh wait....our baby's due date is December 28th.....

WHAT TO DO??!

That aside, I thought I would send the GT manager another email - this one would be a bit more comical, and stress to him how MUCH we love the music and how badly we want to go.

This is what I wrote to GT's manager:

Hello!

I just noticed on the GT website that the guys arecoming to the Peg on New Year's Eve!

Naturally, without hesitation, I'd be going in aheartbeat, but I have a problem, and I'd like to askyour opinion on it!

You see, hubby and I are pregnant with our first baby,and we're due Dec 28th! I understand the first baby isusually overdue, so should I chance it and get ourtickets for the show? And would Alan Frew deliver my baby on stage if I happen to go into labour then?

Chances are he wouldn't forget me when I'm gone! (harhar)

In your professional opinion, what do you think Ishould do?!!!!! Thanks, and hope to hear from you soon!

- Cat

Clearly, the manager of GT is in NO POSITION to even be considered as someone who can give a "professional opinion" on this matter - that, I thought, would be obviously a tip to him that, hey, I'm not SERIOUS, but just so's ya know, I really wish I could go because the band rocks just that much!

This is the response I got:

Honestly Cat..

I'm not a baby doctor and would never presume to tell you what
to do on this issue. We would love to see you there. On the upside,
tickets will be limited and will likely sell out well in advance. If you got
two tickets and then were not able to go at the last minute, I don't think
you would have any trouble selling them to somebody else..

Rod

I think the humour of it all - what I was intending on my end - got lost in translation somewhere! Oh well, at least we know FOR SURE that GT's manager is DEFINITELY not a baby doctor.....so if there was ever any doubt........!!!

You're grounded! You're gonna stay in my uterus for 5 more months until you learn your lesson!

2007-07-22T04:08:00.000-05:00

HAHAHA!

Yesterday was an AWESOME day!At around 8:30pm, I decided I had a craving for ambrosia salad.

No, wait - the BABY decided s/he had a craving for ambrosia salad!

(Donovan had NO idea what ambrosia salad is...so instead of me just sending him out to get some, I decided I should go, too!)

So we went to Superstore, made a bee-line for the deli counter. I tried to explain to Donovan what ambrosia salad is, but he still kept wanting to look in the produce section, with the other bagged salads. How cute. !!!

I looked around.....potato salad, macaroni salad...no ambrosia.

"Excuse me," I politely said to the deli counter lady, "but would you happen to know where I can find the ambrosia salad?"

She gave me this look, like "What? You didn't know?!" Recognizing that I didn't understand her facial expression, she began to explain to me that they discontinued their ambrosia salad, b/c it wasn't a "big seller".

Not a big seller? Who DOESN'T want marshmallow and coconutty goodness on a whim?

Ok, I said, we'll go elsewhere.

Next stop: Safeway. I was SURE they had some there!

Fast forward to the deli counter at Safeway: "Ummm, all our salads are here."

Me: "Yes, but is the ambrosia salad hiding somewhere else?"

Deli counter lady: "Ummm, here are all our salads."

Me: "Oh, so there's nowhere else it could be?"

Deli counter lady: "Ummmm, I'm new here. If you don't see it here, I don't think we have any."

Fine.

Next stop: Sobey's.

On the way to store #3, Donovan and I were joking around that if he wasn't so patient with me, this could lead to our demise! "Look what the baby's doing to us!" we joked. "You're grounded, Baby! You're gonna stay in Mommy's uterus for 5 months until you learn your lesson!"

HAHAHA!

So back to the search: negative on the ambrosia salad at Sobey's.

"Donovan," I told my very patient and loving husband, "the last time I bought ambrosia salad (5 yrs ago!), it was at the Safeway by my parent's house! Let's go there!"

25 minutes later....at the deli counter....negative on the ambrosia.

It was time to throw in the towel, which was fine, because by this time, my craving had worn off!

We got in the car, turned on the ignition, and the most perfect song was playing on the radio, no other tune could complement our experiences better: U2's I Still Haven't Found What I'm Looking For.

Ahhh, I love being pregnant! It's so much fun!

This is wrong.....very, very wrong

2007-06-29T01:46:00.000-05:00

I'm constantly bombarded with pictures, scenarios, and experiences that require me to "blob" about them. And these occurances usually happen when I'm driving, so of course, the hope that I remember WHAT I was to blob about by the time I get home has vanished completely.

Lucky for me, I came across this lil' gem on a pregnancy website I frequent.

Now, I "get" that the site is for busy moms and moms-to-be, ideas on how to calm other children and get them involved so the mom can go one hour without thinking of downing a bottle of Captain Morgan's.

But I think that "they" (the webmasters) need to be more careful with the way they word things, because sometimes, a stressful mom visitng the website in a flurry of rage for ideas on how to keep her tantrum-tainted children in check MAY misconstrue the following idea:

Sure - instead of making pizza with bacon or with feta cheese, why not make pizza with your kids?

That's one way to shut 'em up.

Now I'm starting to freak myself out

2007-06-04T21:17:00.000-05:00

Remember last year, how I took Dono to the Sens game in YOW, and admittedly had a good time?

Well, I'm afraid the "What's this, I like hockey now?" syndrome has come into full effect.

Thanks to my loving husband, who was excited to give me a gift of a Sens jersey with my name on the back, and the fact that we've caught almost all the Sens games all season, I'm now a bonafide Ottawa Senators fan.

And I'm starting to freak myself out!

Just ask any member of my family - growing up, I had no patience to watch, and no desire to learn about, hockey or football. And now, tonite, as the Sens and Ducks are in game 4 of the Stanley Cup finals, I find myself yelling out penalties before the refs blow their whistles.

"That's offside!" or "Goalie interference!", I would say.

And I would be right.

It's bittersweet, the reaction from Dono - the look on his face is one of such pride, as in "That's my girl! I love you so much!". That's the sweet part. The bitter part is that I know I've never seen that look on his face before, and I don't know if I could ever see it again (unless it's another hockey-related comment I make).

But whatever, I'm having fun cheering along with Dono! I'm able to participate in the taunts from our couch, yell out one-liners that the commentators make ("Keep/take the crowd in/out of the game" and "Get it out of the end zone").

And for the most part, I know what they mean. But I have to admit, sometimes I'll just yell out random comments I hear them say in previous games, and still Dono gets that proud look on his face.

It's a win-win situation!

Oops, game's back on now......3rd period, and the game's tied at 2. C'mon Sens, let's get some fresh legs on the ice and put some pressure on the Ducks! (????)

Gearing up for one exciting Christmas this year...

2007-05-17T07:27:00.000-05:00

I know, it's barely even summer yet - what the heck am I doing thinking about CHRISTMAS for?

Read on, friends, read on.....

You see, I decided I pretty much have everything I want already in life. I have a fantastic hubby, a fun job, a cute house, (I don't have my coveted pony or karaoke machine, but I don't care anymore!). Just one little thing was missing....

And we found out a few weeks ago, that on Dec 29th, 2007, we'll be getting what we've been wanting for so long now, the best gift of all - a baby!

Yup, it's true! After 2.5 yrs of trying, numerous doctors, testing on Dono, and my cyst-removal surgery, it looks as though God has finally decided that this is it - our time to become parents has finally arrived!

WE'RE KNOCKED UP!!!!!!! WOOHOO!!!!

As of Saturday, May 19, I'll be at 8wks - so here's what our little peanut looks like right now:
AWWWWWWWW!!!!

Now if only they could stay that innocent for the rest of their lives! (If my history as a rebel teen - oh yes! - is any indication of what our baby's life will be like, then lord help us!)

So far I've just been feeling nauseous in the morning and at night, no yak sessions yet (knock on wood). And tired. VERY tired. Dono's great at letting me nap all the time, saying, "You're making kidneys right now, you need your rest!"

You'll be pleased to know that I'm doing everything I can to provide the healthiest of environments for our lil' one - I've officially quit smoking (the smell alone of cigarette smoke turns my stomach), I'm taking my doctor-recommended vitamin, I'm eating all my greens (with the exception of a few cheeseburgers and Dairy Queen blizzards - hey, gotta give the baby what it wants!). This baby is going to be born a superhero, it'll be so healthy!

Well, that's our big news! I go for my first ULTRASOUND at the end of June, when I'm 12-13 wks along. I can't believe I'M going for an ULTRASOUND!!!

I can't wait to keep y'all posted on the progress and development of Baby Yaciuk!

I hate old men with hats, vol 2

2007-04-30T12:24:00.000-05:00

It's no surprise that I believe old men with hats should not be allowed to roam around in public, unsupervised.

Here's reason #2 why I hate old men with hats.

Just the other day, I was in the Superstore parking lot (why does it always happen here?), having just finished up some banking and rush shopping, and was in a hurry to make it home in time to catch Michael J. Fox on Rachel Ray, with just mere minutes to spare.

I pulled out of my prime parking spot and proceeded down the lane between the parked cars....only to be slowed down by none other than an OLD MAN with a hat, COMPLETE with cane, who took it upon himself to slowly saunter in THE MIDDLE OF THE LANE to either his car, which must have been parked in the very last spot at the end of the row, or to the bingo hall, b/c bingo goes on all day for seniors across the street.

So what SHOULD have taken me less than 20 seconds (maneuvering my way out of the lot) ended up taking 7 minutes. 7 MINUTES!!! Unacceptable!

So I'm starting a petition - GET OLD MEN WITH HATS OFF OUR PUBLIC STREETS AND OUT OF OUR PARKING LOTS UNLESS THEY ARE ASSISTED BY SOMEONE OF SOUND MIND AND BODY WHO CAN GUIDE THEM OUT OF OUR WAY WHEN WE'RE USING THE ROADS.

Currently listening to: Donovan leaving a message on the answering machine!

I'm "cool" now!!!

2007-04-12T09:31:00.000-05:00

Well, I'm pleased to report that I didn't yak or cry at all like I thought I would!

I GOT TATTOOED!

(now I just need to get screwed and glued, and I'll be complete...!) lol

Here's me, just after lunch and just before my appointment, keeping my fingers crossed in hopes that I survive my adventures at Soul Survivors!

And here's Dono, showing some love to the polar bear....(just had to throw that in cuz he was doing everything he could to crack me up and keep me calm!)

Here's the amazing Carly at Soul Survivors, working her tattooing magic!

And here's the finished product! (It's still pretty red, but I'm thinkin' that'll go away eventually!)

The reason I've been so excited to get this done is, well, for one, I've wanted a tattoo for YEARS, but never really knew what I wanted, what to get. And I didn't want to get one just for the sake of getting one. I wanted it to be special.

And this one, my first tattoo, has special meaning.

You see, for years, I had to put up with comments from strangers - comments like, "When are you due?" And when I told them I wasn't pregnant, just "fat", they wouldn't believe me. I always had a big belly, and just assumed I was predisposed to carrying all my weight in my stomach. I did everything I could - became an ephedrine addict, even. For years, I was addicted to the stuff, and I threw out a LOT of money on those tiny little damaging pills. I did crash diets. I starved myself. I put my body through a lot of crap, and inside, I was suffering.

Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Nothing I did would make my stomach go away, my efforts were relentless, and I was failing myself. I hated myself for it.

Along came Donovan, the greatest man of all, and he saw past my insecurities, fell in love with me for me - got me off my "drug addiction", and told me every day how beautiful I was and how much he loved me. (Note: that shouldn't be past tense, he still does this every day! Awww!)

He never thought my belly was something to be concerned about - we all just assumed that it was fat (and after a lot of research on the net, my self-diagnosis told me I had copious amounts of visceral fat, and I needed to drastically change my lifestyle). He supported me in my decisions to lead a healthier lifestyle - we went for walks together in the evenings (when it was warmer out), we ate vegetables more often, drank more water. I never went to a dr about my stomach - I didn't need to hear a dr tell me I had to do more sit-ups.

As much as I was in denial, I was fighting depression.

After Dono and I got married, we tried to get pregnant right away, and after 2 yrs of trying, no luck. I figured it was because I was overweight - so I joined Weight Watchers! Why not try to lose a few pounds the HEALTHY way? Well, I did - lost 20lbs right out of the gate, but still, no baby.

After 2 yrs of trying, we went to a fertility dr, who discovered I had a massive cyst growing in my belly.

(My first reaction, instead of OH MY GOD, AM I GOING TO DIE? was, DID YOU HEAR THAT, DONOVAN? THERE'S SOMETHING WRONG WITH ME! I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO HAVE A BEACH BALLY BELLY! I'M GONNA GET FIXED!)

I can't tell you how many nights I would lay awake in bed, poking at my rock hard stomach (which was the size of a beach ball, no lie), and just wish someone would stick a needle in it and pop it.

Well, on September 26, 2006, that's exactly what they did.

I lost nearly 35lbs that day, in a matter of an hour and a half.

They drained 16L of fluid from my belly.

That day changed my life.

This tattoo is representative of that amazing time in my life - a time when all my years of depression, of mental anguish and self-hate came to an end, and a new Cat was on the horizon.

The tattoo consists of 16 flowers and buds of freesia, located on the left side of my torso (b/c this is where the cyst started, and where I have permanent internal damage - a left fallopian tube and ureter that are essentially cranked) - 16 to represent the number of litres drained from my belly, freesia to represent my love for my husband - those were flowers in my wedding bouquet, and Donovan was there with me, every step of the way, from wreckless nurses jabbing needles in my arms for bloodwork, to my cancer scare, to having him spend every day and every night with me in the hospital, crunched into an uncomfortable chair, never leaving my side.

The butterfly represents the incredible change, and the way I feel - I was always hiding behind big baggy clothes, and now, I've emerged from my "cocoon", a more confident and self-assured woman, filled with joy and a zest for life that I never knew I could have. (I mean, marrying Donovan gave me that, of course - but this was a whole new level of it that I never realized I could have.)

This is why I've been so excited to get my "ink" done. Now if only I can find the confidence to wear a 2-pc bathing suit come summertime so I can show it off at the beach! Oh wait - sun fades the colours.....better stick with the one-pc, but at least now, I can throw away my swimming moomoo!

Now if only the dr's can find some cysts in my arse....due to the size of it, I'm pretty sure I have a few socked away in there!

I've enjoyed my tattoo experience so much, I've already started planning out my next one! I think I've become a tattoo addict!

Currently listening to: Everywhere You Go - Shawn Mullins

MIA, but back in the saddle! Following: My rant on Stupid Kids

2007-04-10T12:40:00.000-05:00

Ok, so enough harassment (Tracy!), I'm back in blogger-land!

So many little events have occurred, so many blog-worthy incidences - and every single time something happened, I'd look at Dono and say, "I'm SO gonna blog about that!", and never do.

BAH!

Life gets in the way sometimes, and with all the other side projects I've got going on, I hate to say it, but my BLOBBING got put on the back burner. It hasn't been the first time, and it certainly won't be the last.

But I did manage to snap some shots of something I've been meaning to BLOB about for a while, so without further ado, here's my latest "I'm SO gonna blog about THAT!" idea!

First off, before I attach the photos, I have to say - we live in the North End.

Albeit, the "good" part of the North End. (This is what the cop told us to reassure us we were going to be ok after we got broken into over 2 yrs ago....but before Dono's windshield got smashed and his stereo stolen...I digress..!)

Now, it's no secret that the North End has it's stigmas, has certain trigger images that pop into one's mind when they hear the mere mention of this part of the city.

As much as I can, I'd like to stress that these things happen ALL OVER our fair city. But no other areas have the bad rap that our little neck o' the woods has.

Unfair? Perhaps. And I always wanted to keep my mother reassured that our neighbourhood IS safe, and that it was ok for her to come over and visit us! But our neighbourhood, although we live in the "good" part of the North End, has unfortunately not managed to escape the besmirchment associated with it's larger community connection.

Our back lane has been graffititicized* (*my new word).

Now, this is NOT uncommon, but the content of the tags has me a tad concerned.

I give the kidlets credit for expressing their creativity through artistically adorning other peoples' properties, but for God's sake, children, if you're going to do something like that, then show your parents or legal guardians that skipping school to spray paint garage doors ISN'T affecting your academic achievements....LEARN TO SPELL!

Otherwise, if you're going to tag someone's property, spelling the words wrong doesn't make us appreciate or support your artistic development - and we can all agree, THAT'S what the kids are looking for - respect as an artist!

My advice to you - stay in school, learn to spell words properly, and THEN, you can spray paint the hell out of whatever you want! Just do it properly!

Or perhaps the joke is on us.....perhaps "Drugtonw" and "Blodds" ARE real words, and WE'RE the academically-challenged generation.

Boy, that's egg on my face. ;)

Currently listening to: The Plumb Song - Snow

I can't sell my husband for $1!

2007-02-18T15:32:00.000-06:00

I love usedwinnipeg.com.

I sell everything I can on it, and I've made quite a few bucks doing so.

A couple of nights ago, I went on another "what can I sell?" rampage. As I was snapping photos and downloading them onto the site, Donovan was at his computer, working, with his tunes cranked. It was nearing midnight, and my energy was running low. My rampage was fuelled by the fact that he was still up, working, and I wanted to wait up with him. What can I say, I can't fall asleep unless he's lying beside me. (All together now, "Awwwww!")

So anyhoot, I had just finished posting the last of my items, and was really hoping to hit the hay soon, but Dono was still working.

So this incident spawned the following ad I placed on usedwinnipeg.com:

For sale: ONE HUSBAND!

He promised me an hour ago that he would be finished his work, and yet he's still up, working. And me, being the good wife, am up with him. Why? Because he's cranked his music up loud (and he knows we can both sleep in tomorrow, so he's taking advantage of this opportunity to blast his speakers!)

He's 31, has a great sense of humour, and is pretty good about taking out the garbage and doing dishes at least once every 2 weeks. As you can tell by the picture, he's very good at building forts with excessive amounts of paper towels.

His downfalls - he works too much!!! Also, he cranks old time country music and talk radio when we're in my car. Oh, and he plays hockey, so he's gone for a few nights out of the week, and when he comes home, he brings his sweaty hockey bagin the house and it stinks up everything! He's in relatively good condition, he's low maintenance, and doesn't take up too much space. I'm tired and I want to go to bed, but he's keeping me up with his loud June Carter music!

First $1 takes him! :)

Well, this ad created a lot of buzz from the deal-hungry vultures who live on this site! Here are some of the replies I received:

- ill take u out baby ur treat lol (I don't know what this means!!!!)

- if i were you i'd consider myself pretty lucky...my husband comes home, almost broke from the casino, drunk (driving of course), and doesnt want to sleep with me in case i try to intiate sex..also...he is bi-polar and narcissitic..but of course you're learning this before hand instead of AFTER he has fooled you like the sociopath that he is..also, he will spend all your inheritance from your father because "its not really your money anyways"..so..up for a trade? ...also, forget country music..this man LOVES his heavy metal! (but will pretend to be tolerant of other music while you are dating) (Ummm.....I think this person needs to talk to someone...badly...!)

- funny, I'm selling one just like yours- I've probably had him a little longer, coming up on 18 years, but still has great mileage left on him. No instructions included, but can be trained- I'm still working in that part!

- Great Add !!!! Needed a good Laugh

- ahahaha I wish i could sell my husband too for the $$$ but I'd rather bring him back to his mommy bwahaha!

- send me a pic of the wife (uhhhh....)

- Are you firm on your price? (And the award for Best Response to an Ad Ever goes to...!)

- thats the best ad ever on this site!!!!! always ask moremoney incase they try to talk you down lol

- Can you go any lower than $1.00 I might beinterested but only would have time on the weekend to pick him up what is youraddress so I can see in person? Thanks.

And then, I got a kick in the pants:

- Do not waste the space on this site for your attempt at half witted humor. Leave it for people who have legitimate items to post. (I thought it was pretty funny! Oh well!)

I'm guessing it's because of this grumpy gus that I received the following message:

Hi, I'm a moderator for UsedWinnipeg.com. I have removed your ad because it violates the Terms Of Use.

So, I guess that proves that I really can't sell my hubby for a $1! (Not that I would really WANT to... who else would take out the garbage every 2 wks?!) ;)

(Love you hun!)

*just a side note: I checked out the Terms of Use, and technically, my ad DIDN'T violate anything! Suck on THAT, usedwinnipeg.com! lol

Currently listening to: Angel Eyes - Jeff Healey Band

This is why Donovan isn't allowed to touch my stuff.

2007-01-28T22:15:00.000-06:00

I have a breadmaker. I love my breadmaker. It has always worked well for me, making bakery-style loaves time and time again.

Today, Donovan attempted to use my breadmaker to make "bread".

This is what happened:

Clearly, he is quite pleased with himself, despite the pathetic appeal of his surprisingly edible creation.

Needless to say, he's not allowed to touch my stuff anymore! :)

To the old man I pissed off in the parking lot - I'M SORRY!

2007-01-16T12:29:00.000-06:00

I'd like to think I'm a generally nice person. I'll hold the door open for people, I'll let someone know they've dropped something. I'm doing much better at not laughing at people when they trip.

But there's one thing that annoys me MORE THAN ANYTHING IN THE WORLD.

And that is - old men with hats.

I've known all along that they can NOT drive - or rather, SHOULD not drive. They're the worst drivers on the road. But because of their handicapp, I tend to give them the benefit of the doubt. I do kind of feel sorry for them. After all, they are old, decrepit, and feeble. They're hard of hearing (whether it's from old age, or because they just enjoy their AM talk radio station so much in the car), their spines are so contorted that they're unable to sit up straight to see over the steering wheel.

All valid reasons why old men with hats should not be on the road.

But again, I DO feel sorry for them. (If only someone could, in their lifetime, invent a way for the elderly to teleport to their Bingo games without wreaking havoc on our city streets.)

But I digress.

Today, as empathetic as I am towards the elderly, I pissed off an old man. And I felt bad about it. But, I have to state, IT WASN'T MY FAULT!

Here's what went down. Please observe the following diagrams to help you better understand the situation.

I went to The Real Canadian Superstore to pick up some groceries. I'm usually pretty lucky when it comes to finding a really good parking spot. Today was no exception.

Observe Exhibit A:

My car is highlighted in blue (for accuracy's sake, Wedgewood Blue). I turned down the row of cars in the lot, right in front of the Superstore, and spied a couple putting their groceries into their vehicle (highlighted in yellow), preparing to leave. Guns 'n Roses just came on the radio, so I turned it up, put my blinker on, and proceeded to wait for these folks to back out.

Exhibit B:

As I'm singing along to Sweet Child o' Mine, I see a woman getting into her grey van to my left. Another car has approached me and, having noticed my right blinker on for the yellow car, clicked on THEIR blinker to take the spot of the grey van.

Exhibit C:

The woman in the grey van poked her head out of her door window at me, motioning to me that I need to reverse my car so that she can back out. (I'm still waiting for the people in the yellow car to leave - they seemed to be taking their sweet time. Sweet Child o' Mine is over, I'm now listening to an Eagles tune.)

I put my car in reverse, and back up a bit. The grey van pulled out just as the yellow car's bright reverse lights go on. As the grey van drove away and the red car proceeded to take it's place, the yellow car began to back up. I noticed there was ANOTHER car, that had just appeared behind the RED car (stay with me people!), with THEIR blinker on ready to take the spot I've been waiting for!

Exhibit D:

So the grey van is gone, the red car has pulled into its spot, and there I was, with my blinker on, watching as the yellow car FINALLY decided to back up. The new car - the green one with, what I've discovered is being driven by none other than AN OLD MAN WITH A HAT - began to creep up a bit. Ooooh, I was feeling the anticipation!

Exhibit E:

Which brings me to the reason for this blog. The old man and I were nose-to-nose, fender-to-fender, each with equal occupancy in this now-vacant spot, each with determination that only one of us was getting that spot, and it wasn't going to be the other guy. The old man was laying on his horn, yelling things I could only assume included the words "young punk", and looked very angry. I, in response, was yelling back. "I'VE BEEN WAITING HERE FOR 10 MINUTES! I WAS HERE FIRST!" There was NO WAY I was giving up this spot I waited FOREVER for!

After it became evident that I was NOT going to move out of the way, and after the old man probably realized that he should be spending the limited amount of time he has left on this earth buying bird seed for the imaginary birds in his backyard instead of yelling at a "young punk", he finally back off, and I gleefully took the spot.

I parked as quickly as I could, because now the guilt was setting in. I made an old man get mad at me! I was going to hell! I wanted to jump out of the car, and hope the man was still behind me, and I would explain to him that, although he didn't realize it, I had been waiting long before he showed up.

But the man was gone.

I ran in, shopped as fast as I could, and ran back out to my car, to make sure the old bastard wasn't keying up my paint job.

So last night, we saw (or DIDN'T see) David Copperfield...

2007-01-09T08:41:00.000-06:00

He IS an illusionist, y'know.

But seriously - thanks to my darling, sweet mother-in-law (no really, I LOVE her!), Dono and I were able to go see the only magician to have been Knighted by the Government of France.

(That's one of the tidbits we learned last night while being subjected to the self-serving 25 min-long video compilation containing EVERY David Copperfield reference from EVERY television show and feature film EVER made, played as a preface to the "magicianary" we were about to experience.)

What I came to see was the David Copperfield I grew up with - the one with the thick black mullet, donning the flowy white Seinfeld-pirate shirt, who, with a mysterious and sometimes creepy-intense look on his face, would freak out his audience by flying through the air. (I have to admit, I was also hoping for a bit of Siegfried and Roy action - y'know, tigers going crazy on stage and attacking the French Knight.)

But that wasn't to be.

Instead, what we got, was a leathery-faced Bob-Saget wannabe with cheesy jokes and a duck named Webster.

And mind-blowing illusions.

Dono and I spent more time laughing AT David Copperfield rather than allowing ourselves to be swept away by the magic. It wasn't until we were leaving the MTS Centre, walking out to our car, that we realized what the hell it was we just witnessed.

How DID he do that?!

Although I joked prior to the show that his name should be David Cop-a-feel (he sure does like brining skinny pretties on stage to "assist" him), I can't deny the power that is The Copp.

Making a car appear on stage right before our eyes? And sending some chica to Hawaii? One second, she's on stage with him, the next, they're both on the big screen, hooked up live, via satellite, to an island in Hawaii, with a picture taken moments before they "left" that was signed and dated by a witness on stage (one of the anorexic beauties), as proof that they were really there.

WTF???

Man, if I had powers like that, like teleportation, I would use those powers for good. Someone should tell The Copp the same. If he could just teach the world that ONE trick - how to close your eyes in Winnipeg and, in mere seconds later, end up in Hawaii - do you realize what that would do? What that COULD do?

For one, we wouldn't rely on cars to get us around anymore. So BAM, we save our money, and BAM BAM, we're saving our environment! Global warming is a big issue, and with The Copp's expertise, we could single-handedly SAVE our world (and save bucks doing it)!

(I started this out by saying "For one", as if there were other reasons to follow. There aren't. I'm sorry.)

Why doesn't he teach us this power? Why is David Copperfield being so selfish? Does he not care about the baby seals?

So now, all those ppl who are supporting his shows and pay big bucks to see weird shit happen, need to ask themselves - WHY DOESN'T DAVID COPPERFIELD CARE ABOUT OUR CHILDREN?

I give his act 2 MAGIC WANDS up, but for the man himself, well, he can just take his Knighted arse over to France and bury himself alive. The world doesn't need his illusions as much as it needs his superhero powers to save it.

Stupid People

2006-12-08T10:27:00.000-06:00

So last night, Donovan was telling me about these new bus shelter ads in San Francisco that have been embedded with the scent of cookies.

The campaign, launched by the California Milk Processor Board, is using scent as a primary trigger to coerce people into wanting to drink more milk. Scented oils were sandwiched between cardboard cards emblazoned with "Got Milk?" and affixed to shelter walls. But apparently this brilliant idea, like every new concept, has its opposition.

Dono proceeded to tell me why people were protesting the ads - being the couple that we are, we can finish each other's sentences, so I proceeded to do so.

I recall a story in the news, oh, about 7 yrs ago, about a man who checked himself in to a downtown "hotel" (the Occidental - classy joint!), got drunk and/or high, and began to (gross alert) gnaw off the skin on the bottom of his toes and eventually choked to death.

No word of a lie. Very disgusting.

So, the all-knowing me, I interrupted Dono's story to say, "Oh, is it because some loopy transients started to break off bits of the ad and eat them, and choked?"

With a disgusted look on his face, he said "NO!"

Guess I was a tad off base with my assumption.

Turns out the REAL reason why people are protesting this new campaign is because ..... get this.... critics have complained the ads could be offensive to the poor and homeless who cannot afford to buy sweet treats.

??????????????????

That's the most RIDICULOUS thing I've ever heard! Should I not be offended, then, by ads for diamond earrings, cars, or (lately, with my restricted income), licorice?!

People are stupid.

This is the first installment of my highly anticipated "I HATE PEOPLE" series. I expect there will be many more chapters to follow.

NO-lton Nash!

2006-11-27T10:43:00.000-06:00

Recently I had visited an old friend of mine who reminded me of a very disturbing experience that, at the time, I resolved to have locked in my memory vault, never to rear its ugly head again.

Thanks, Scott, for inadvertantly causing the vault to break open!

When I was in Creative Communications at Red River College a few years back, our class was lucky enough to have one of Canada's greatest journalists pay us a visit and give us a presentation of his life and career. Knowlton Nash has been one of our nation's most recognizable faces for many years, entering our living rooms every night with his kind visage and knowledgeable reports on the day's events. I had watched Knowlton Nash's reports all my life, so to see him in person was a real treat!

After the presentation, I had the opportunity to approach him and talk to him. I was embarassingly shy and quite nervous! I mean, here is that face that I'd seen all my life on the television, now in front of me in the flesh! His charming features showed years of experience and told stories of places I'd never heard of, things he has witnessed that I couldn't even dream of - it was quite intimidating. What does one say to their journalistic icon they've watched all their life?

"Hello, Mr. Nash. Thank you for coming out and sharing your experiences with us. It really has been such an exciting adventure to be here with you today. I just wanted to tell you that I grew up watching you on TV, and to see you here in front of me, in real life, is really quite unimaginable!"

Silence.....cut to Knowlton Nash eyeing me up and down.

"Wow, you grew up well!"

???????

With a wave of red hot embarassment flooding over me, I thanked him, turned around, and walked away. THIS was my icon? My CBC hero, the man I had depended on my whole life for his mature and dependable reports, a man who had seen it all and been everywhere, who had YEARS of experience covering events I couldn't even imagine, a man I used to dream about having as my grandfather, thinking what Christmases with him would be like, as he showered me with Barbie dolls and BeDazzlers....Knowlton Nash was a pervert??!

Thanks, Mr. Nash, for turning me off the CBC, for ruining every childhood memory I had of spending evenings with my family in front of the TV, watching your reports. For the clubbing of baby seals and the famine in third world countries (after the comment he made to me, who KNOWS what this man is capable of!).

To this, I say, NO-lton Nash.

;)

Currently listening to: Mary Mary - Shackles

Fun things I can do now, that I never could before

2006-10-29T23:27:00.000-06:00

Now that Cysty has been successfully evicted from my body, I've discovered there are a few things that I can do now that I couldn't accomplish before:

- I can look down and actually see my feet!

- Because Cysty stretched out my stomach so much, I now have handfuls of extra skin that I can hide random objects in (pens, a wallet, and, we've discovered, half of Donovan's head!)

- I can sit thaaaaaaat much closer to the table (lessens the risk of spillage on my clothes)

- When I drop something on the floor, I don't have to back up a couple of feet in order to pick it up! I just bend down, and thar we go! (that's WHEN I can finally bend down - stupid hurting incision!)

- The flappy skin - I just can't get over how much fun that is, it's like a big ball of dough! It really does KNEAD to be mentioned again! (Knead! HAHA! Get it? Like kneading dough?!.... get it??!!)

- My incision has developed a subdural hematoma, which means the bottom half of it didn't close up properly. So now it looks like I have 2 belly buttons! I've got a built-in ice-breaker in awkward conversational situations! ("Hey everyone! Wanna see something neat?!....Anyone???")

I want to express my deepest thanks and appreciation to all of you for your kind words, your thoughtfulness, and your concern. This has been one heckuvan ordeal, and I was very nervous and scared going in, but all your support has made recovery that much easier.

And now, to finally put this to rest, please take a moment to read the following literary masterpiece, crafted by moi as my therapeutic form of closure:

Ode to Cysty (a crappy poem for a crappy medical anomaly)

Farewell to you, Cysty, you've been with me for many years

Through the good times, and the bad, and when I would shed many tears

But now your time has come, you're gone, and all I have to say, is

I hate you, you big, fat, stupid, fluid-filled enigma for all the times strangers thought I was pregnant and for putting me through countless hours at the ER when I thought I had a heart condition, but I didn't, because your stupid arse was pressing on my diaphragm, and I'm glad you're gone away!

(cue applause!)

Currently listening to: Cinnamon Girl - Cory Heydon

Post-Op pics!

2006-10-10T23:32:00.000-05:00

Sure is fun not wearing baggy sweaters!

The surgery was a success! The cyst was NOT ovarian, but para-ovarian (grows beside the ovary). My left ovary was not removed like I was initially told it would be, thank goodness. Everything looks great with the exception of a fallopian tube, which has a bit of damage on it. But c'mon, who REALLY needs a fallopian tube anyway?!

Cysty turned out to be a sac filled with 16 LITRES of fluid, which means I lost 35 LBS in about an hour. The BEST weight loss program I've ever been on!

For more on the experience, visit my hubby Dono's blog on his version of events. He's a lot craftier with his words, especially since I'm still hopped up on the T3s!

So here are the "after" pics! (I still have a "swelly belly" from the surgery, and that'll last for another 5 wks, but I'll take that over Cysty any day!).

Thank you to everyone who supported me - surgery's fun (I'm guessing, I don't really recall since I was asleep!), but recovery isn't! All your words of encouragement and all your support has meant the world to me!

Some "before Tuesday" pictures!

2006-09-23T11:07:00.000-05:00

Here are some "before" pics, ones we took last night after coming home from Tommy and Kim's wedding.

This is me (and Cysty), no sucking in of the gut, no holds barred!

And then, y'know, Dono wanted to have his picture taken with Cysty, too! All that picture-taken sure did make us tired!

Not the "delivery" my parents were hoping for!

2006-09-21T22:22:00.000-05:00

Mark this date on your calendar, folks!

Tuesday, September 26th, is the day that I'll be going into the delivery room!

But not for your average delivery. Oh no. This baby weighs a guesstimated 15-20lbs, is about 54 cm long and 89 cm wide.

This "baby" is my benign ovarian cyst that has been growing in my belly for the past 3 years!!!

And after having been with me so long, I can definitely say I won't miss having it with me!

It was discovered last Thursday, when Dono and I went to see the fertility doctor. He had me get up on the table for an exam (the doctor, not Dono!), began poking around on my belly (and I began thinking, "Oh great, he's going to tell me I'm too fat to get pregnant!"), and as it turned out, he looked at me and said, "Honey, there's something wrong with you."

He scheduled me in for an emergency ultrasound, which I was in by Friday morning. For 2 hrs, the ultrasound tech did both external and internal scans, and the massive cyst was discovered.

Being at least 24 cm deep, the tech informed me that all my internal organs were severely displaced, my kidney was becoming enlarged, the cyst was pressing on my diaphragm (causing my "heart condition"), and was just an overall nuisance!

I met with my fertility doctor again this past Tuesday to go over the results of my bloodwork, and the tests couldn't conclusively rule out cancer (I can't believe he dropped the c-bomb!), so he had to refer me to an oncologist.

"You probably won't hear from them for about 10 days," my fertility doc told me. The next day, I had a call from Cancer Care MB with an appointment set up for today, Thursday, one week from when it was first discovered!

The oncologist told us that he was going to rule out cancer (they won't know for sure until it's removed), because if it WAS cancerous and it was as big as it is, I'd be dead by now!

I can't believe how quickly things have moved along, and needless to say, both Dono and I are completely relieved (and still a bit in shock). I had no indication that anything was wrong, as I never had any typical signs of an ovarian cyst (ie. excruciating pain).

Dono says the record for the world's largest cyst was 328lbs, removed back in 1905! He suggested I hold out a bit longer to try to beat it. I just pushed him down the stairs with my cyst. HAHA!

So next Tuesday is the surgery, and after spending about 5 days in the hospital recovery room, you can bet that by Sunday I'll be out bikini shopping!

Stay tuned for the amazing before and after pics!

Counting down the days until our newest arrival!

2006-09-18T00:09:00.001-05:00

Not sure the exact date yet, but judging by the way things have been going, and how quickly I've been growing, it's going to be very, very soon!

(I'm guessing it'll be in the next week!)

(for those of you who don't know, stay tuned for the details!).........

Not enough time for vacations

2006-08-21T11:19:00.000-05:00

Two and a half weeks can go by like that, and what's been accomplished? Sure, we went to Calgary, did some sleeping in, relaxing things like that. But it's just a shame that, since I work for an airline, we didn't take advantage of more exciting locations in such a vast amount of time away from work.

One day, we'd like to see the world, and I wonder what that would be like? To look back at pictures of us in places we've only dreamed of going to...

Well, why wait? Below are some pictures of us (mind you, an "us" from last year!), but US nonetheless, in different vacation spots!

Here's us at Niagra Falls:

Here we are at Yosemite:

Here we are in Spain:

And finally, here we are in the future helping out some of our new friends (we're the ones in the background):

Currently playing : Glass Tiger - You're What I Look For

Sometimes when we don't tip our Shuttle Bus Driver, the honesty's too much...!

2006-08-14T13:34:00.001-05:00

As my holidays are coming to an end, I find myself reflecting back on the wonderful time Donovan and I had together. Granted, he wasn't able to get an entire 2.5 weeks off like I was, but he still managed to fanagle a day or two. We took advantage of this opportunity to fly out to Calgary on the long weekend (after having been entertained by Glass Tiger the night before at the casino! Wow, what a show!).

This is when I began feeling like Cousin Eddie was going to show up and bbq some buns for us. (National Lampoon's Vacation reference, in case you didn't know!)

We got to the airport in Winnipeg, checked in, and got to the boarding lounge. The flight was scheduled to depart at 11 a.m. But then God decided, "No, no, we'll let them wait it out for a bit," and sent some nasty weather our way. We were grounded in YWG for 2 hours due to the storm.

Not fun situation #1.

Finally, 1 p.m. rolls around, and it's time to board. We get on the plane, grab our seats, and we're off! We arrived into YYC (Calgary) just after 2 p.m. local time, and made our way over to the car rental building. We hadn't made reservations - we never do when we fly, there's always something available. Why would this time be any different?

Oh, but it was.

We found ourselves fighting our way through a jungle - a maze, if you will - of hoards of angry, frustrated and anxious people waiting to get their arses in a rental. People were everywhere - waiting in neverending line-ups, sitting on the floor along the walls, hanging from the ceiling. Just a mess of flesh and flailing limbs everywhere we turned. We went to 4 different car rental places, all telling us the same thing: "Do you have a reservation? No? Well then, I'm sorry, we're all sold out."

Not fun situation #2.

We decided to try ONE LAST place, holding out hope that maybe - JUUUUUST maybe - there would be something for us.

The chick at Budget told us they had nothing left except for convertibles (which I wouldn't have minded!) for $189 per day (which Dono DID mind)! After receiving this devastating news and exchanging a hopeless "Well, NOW what do we do?" look, the chick at Budget interrupts our vacant glances to tell us that a car has JUST arrived, for $89 a day, and would be ready in 10 minutes!

We grabbed it - and then we were off! We rented a room in a luxury hotel, with a pool we took advantage of every night. We had fun driving around, cranking tunes and getting lost in Cow Town, visiting friends and family. Those 3 days just whizzed by, and before we knew it, it was time to leave.

Tuesday morning, we arranged for a shuttle to take us to the airport (after having to return our car the day before). The shuttle bus driver - let's call him Manuel - was wonderfully friendly and curiously perky for 6:30 in the morning, but we didn't mind. "Let me take your bags, Sir," he said to Dono, as I hopped on board the complimentary shuttle to secure us a seat before the Air Canada crew with whom we were sharing our shuttle got on.

The ride to the airport was nice first thing in the morning. Watching the sun come up, Dono and I were snuggling in the back of the shuttle bus to Manuel's surprising music selection - the soft sounds of Dan Hill's Sometimes When We Touch.

Definitely peculiar choice for first thing in the morning. Didn't really get our days kick-started, that's for sure. We ventured a guess and decided that Manuel's past involved a very torrential love story: he was in love with a woman named Panalpina (or something of the sort). She loved him dearly, in fact this Dan Hill tune was their song. They used to dance all through the night to the sultry sounds of Mr. Hill, gazing longingly into each other's eyes....until Panalpina fell into the ice sculpture on the head table at the reception after having had too much to drink, and died instantly as the feathers of the ice peacock pierced her heart.

We figure if we could listen really hard, we could hear a single tear rolling down Manuel's cheek, as he relives his passion for Panalpina over and over with every note of the song.

As we arrived at the airport and stepped out of the shuttle bus, we realized we had no change to tip Manuel for the service which he provided.

Once he realized it, this was where Manuel tasted the bittersweetness of his tear, and his sadness turned to rage, as he began flinging our luggage all over the sidewalk, nearly running us over as he peeled out of there! That was the last time we saw him, careening off into the horizon, probably sobbing and spitting all at the same time.

I guess the honesty of us not having any spare change - coupled with the memories of his dead Panalpina - WAS just too much for Manuel to bear.

Well, glad to be home now!

We've captured the elusive Glass Tiger!

2006-08-03T20:48:00.000-05:00

Flight 899 pulled up to the gate at the Winnipeg International Airport this evening from Toronto at 7:17pm. And Dono and I were there to stalk one of Canada's classic and most beloved creatures, the Glass Tiger!
In the arrivals area at the WestJet baggage services counter, we had keyboardist Sam Reid paged (paging Alan Frew would be too obvious). And so Sam showed up.

Donovan was as giddy as Oprah on Free Baked Ham day at Harpo Studios!

Once Mr. Reid approached the counter, looking for a WestJet agent to tell him why he'd been paged, Dono got the conversation ball rolling by saying, "We're the reason you were paged - I hope you don't mind, but I stole your luggage!"

We were ready to go, I began digging in my purse for the Sharpie Dono made me carry (while he was about to pull out his Glass Tiger CD booklet), when before we knew it, GT's manager Rod whipped out 3 colour glossies of the band, complete with Sharpies of his own!

3 of the 4 members of the band signed those pics for us (one had missed his flight - maybe we'll go back tomorrow morning to get our 4th signature!), and all the while Sam was very talkative and seemed appreciative of our efforts to make our pilgrimage to the airport just to meet them!

Tomorrow night is the show at McPhillip's Casino - we'll be there, in the 17th row mind you, and we'll be shouting out the tunes right along with Al and the gang.

(Sam did give us permission to rush the stage, so if I don't post anymore after this, you'll know we've been thrown in jail!)

Glass Tiger - after all these years, you're still a pretty cool group!

I don't get it!

2006-08-01T13:43:00.000-05:00

So I'm sitting here, and for some reason, I thought it'd be interesting to see how much one ounce is.

So I went to www.askjeeves.com, and I typed in "How much is one ounce?" in the search engine. The first page that came up contains the following text:

"An ounce is equal to 437.5 grains, 1/16 of a pound, or 28.350 grams. The system of having 16 ounces in a pound is called the avoirdupois system.

Note: An ounce is a unit of weight that is not equal to a fluid ounce which is a measure of volume. The troy or apothecary weight system has one ounce = 480 grains = 31.103 grams and 12 ounces = 1 pound! That means one avoirdupois ounce is equal to 0.910 troy ounce. Yikes!"

"Yikes"? "Yikes" meaning "I don't know what the hell it was I just typed? Or "Yikes, I'm the world's biggest nerd"?

I don't get it. And maybe I'm glad I don't.....

I still don't know how much one ounce is!

Indeed.

2006-08-01T13:41:00.000-05:00

Absence makes the heart grow fonder...

2006-08-01T10:59:00.000-05:00

...and OTHER REASONS I've been neglectful in fulfilling my blob-duties!

10. Shift work (note: I had to REALLY REMEMBER to put the "f" in "shift"!)
9. Living a life on the lam isn't all it's cracked up to be
8. I've got a hot husband!!!
7. I've got a messy husband!!! (read: relentless house cleaning!)
6. Have I posted pictures of my adorable niece? Is she just not SOOO CUTE?!!
5. Fighting off hoards of hungry, angry wasps
4. The sheep in the basement won't let me near my computer
3. I've been bombarded by calls from "Betty, the woman who's hosting Free Scripture Readings in Your Area"
2. Sometimes it's important to sleep!

....and the NUMBER 1 reason I've been absent from the cyber world....

RICHARD DAWSON!

Yes, it's true - I'm a Game Show Network-a-holic!

Aside from the traditional favourites of the GSN (Lingo, Password, Press Your Luck) that have consumed much of my time and have probably either permanently damaged my grey matter or heightened my intellectual state, I've come to terms with a minor obsession that's been harbouring since Dono and I came back from a GSN marathon in Sifton, MB...

Not an Anderson Cooper or Bono-type fixation.

My fascination for Richard Dawson is a bit more complex.

Who else in the world could be a panelist for Match Game (73-78) that smokes cigars on stage, looks down his fellow female panelist's shirts as they're composing their responses, and later host a timeless game show and get away with making out with all the female contestants?

What, you think it was just a harmless peck on the lips that he so easily doled out on the Family Feud?

Consider THIS: When Richard was 49, back in 1981, the Johnson family appeared on Family Feud and Richard was introduced to 27 year old Gretchen. They had a daughter, Shannon Nicole, in 1990, and were married in 1991.

I'm going to throw away any feministic notions here and say RICHARD DAWSON WAS THE MAN, and NO ONE can ever touch his ladies' man legacy!

Wait a sec.....Tom Cruise - isn't he, like, 44? And Katie Holmes, well she's 27....

Ok, sorry Richard, I guess you're not THAT untouchable!

I guess I'll just stick to watching Chuck Woolery and Lingo then!

After 18 Years, the Mystery has FINALLY Been Solved

2006-06-18T23:28:00.000-05:00

The year was 1988. I was a darling and innocent young girl at the tender age of 9. And I was in love.

His name was Murray Tester.

He had beautiful golden locks, and a killer smile (so what if there were a few gaps from where baby teeth once flourished).

But Murray never knew my feelings for him. In fact, nobody knew. I was too shy.

It wasn't until the last day of Grade 4 before school let out for the summer that I realized how deeply I loved him. You see, Murray announced to his class that he was moving out of the city, and would not be returning to St. Al's in the fall.

WHAT??? MURRAY, NOOOO!!! He was going to leave FOREVER, and I would NEVER get the chance to see the sunshine radiating from his angelic aura again!

In the months and years that followed, I would think about Murray often, if not every day. I recall one such instance where my parents took me for a drive with them out to the perimeter to a vegetable stand one afternoon, in the summer of 1988, with the memory of Murray's devasting news still fresh in my mind. When they were getting out of the car to select their choice of premium legumes and such, I opted instead to stay in the car, pop my new El Debarge cassette into my walkman, and daydream.

But I would fast foward through Rhythm of the Night and The Heart is Not So Smart (rightfully so) to listen to my favourite ballad - Who's Holding Donna Now. Only, MY version of the song - the one I would sing in my head, substituted Donna for Murray.

Sometimes a love won't let go
Hard as I try I know it shows
Everybody's telling me
You'll be over HIM eventually
But how am I supposed to feel so secure
When I keep wonderin'
Who's holding MURRAY now
And I keep wonderin'
Who's heart HE's knocking around
There's nothing I wouldn't do
To be in HER shoes somehow

And I keep wonderin'
Who's holding MURRAY now
And I keep wonderin'
What magic can be found
To turn me back to the one
Who's holding MURRAY now

(Did I mention I was 9 YEARS OLD??)

Let me just say that I am indeed happily married, and am super lucky to be with Dono - but I have to admit, every now and then, I'll hear that El Debarge classic, and I'll be transported back in time to the summer of 1988, in the backseat of my parent's car, with that walkman just a-blastin' in my little ears, and a boy named Murray on my mind. Whatever happened to him? Where did he move to? Is he still alive?! Who IS holding Murray now?

Well, after nearly 2 decades of uncertainty, my questions were answered in one unsuspecting night.

Last Wednesday night, June 14th, Dono and I went with our friends Tannis and Troy to see Nacho Libre. As Dono and I made our way to the pretzel stand, I spied a familiar face walking my way......."OHMYGODDONOVANTHAT'SMURRAYTESTER!" I frantically whispered in my hubby's ear (as he is well aware of my "secret past"!), keeping my eyes glued to him in disbelief, watching him as he passed by, oblivious to my presence.

Turns out Murray was going into the same theatre we were going into, watching the same movie, sharing the same air!

And so, to answer the question spawned by El Debarge so many years before, there's some skinny little brunette who's holding Murray now!

(I love you Donovan!) lol

Finally, one mystery solved....now let's get crackin' on that Area 51 business.

Currently playing: Coldplay - Talk

On the brink of Fandemonium

2006-06-13T23:58:00.000-05:00

Well, as much as I hate to admit it, I nearly became a hockey fan.

I mean, I was actually ENJOYING watching a hockey game. On tv.

When the Sens were playing Buffalo in the semi-finals, I got into it. I knew the players' names, I sat on the edge of the couch with my eyes glued to the set, and every time the round rubber scoring device (the "puck") came near Emery (the "goalie"), I would yell out his name, as if to warn him that it was coming. "Emery, here it comes!", I would say.

But in the end, Emery just couldn't handle the pressure, and the Sabres won. Well, I tells ya, I was deeply saddened by this occurance. I was decked out in Sens gear (the goods we purchased in January when we went to Ottawa to see the Sens vs the Leafs, primarily the foam helmet), and when Buffalo hammered that final nail into the Sens' coffin, my jaw hit the floor.

"Well," I said to myself, "that's it. No more hockey."

I mean I literally said that. Out loud.

I was juuuuuuust about on board with this whole hockey craze, and then the Sens went and blew it, and I didn't want to have any part of the hype any more. That's what I get for developing some semblance of interest in my husband's favourite past-time.

But then, the Edmonton vs Carolina series starts heating up, and now it's not just a battle of team against team. It's nation vs nation. As much as I didn't want to watch it, I couldn't help it.

Mind you, I wasn't AS involved with the "Oilers" as I was with my Sennys. (Doesn't that McDonald's spokesperson play for Edmonton?!) But just the other night, Dono and I found ourselves watching this game, when Carolina was up 2-1 in the series over Edmonton. With less than 30 minutes to go, and with signs littering the crowd that read "Hockey is Canada's Game", I found myself in familiar territory - I would be glued to the set for the remainder of the game and root for Canada.

Like a phoenix rising up from the ashes, I would again rise up from my distaste for this sport and become a cheering fan (not to the likes of Gropey McJazz-Hands, mind you!). I was on the brink of fandemonium!.......

....only to see the Oilers lose. Aaaaaaaand now I'm done with hockey forever!

(until that Todd Bertuzzi guy plays again!) teehee! (What??? He's a "talented" player!)

Currently playing: Max Webster - Let Go The Line

Back from hiatus - round 2!

2006-06-07T20:47:00.000-05:00

Back from another temporary hiatus - man, who's the worst blogger in the world?!

Things have been rather busy, what with The 7th Quintannual, Yaciuk Household Renovate-a-thon consuming most of our time!

Now that I'm full time at WestJet (full time = no more 4am starts, more days off, less chance for divorce!), I have more time to devote to the more important things in life - like BLOBBING! (see It's BLOB time! )

To kick-start this next bout of blobbing sessions, I want to take this opportunity to show off my niece! She recently celebrated her 1st birthday, and her auntie couldn't be more proud of her! She's getting so big now - she walks around like a little tyrant, getting into things, babbling her cutsie baby-talk and pointing to me and Uncle Donovan trying her darndest to say "Auntie" and "Uncle" (which actually sound more like "Tee" and "Ck"). Adorable.

My sister Leanne and my brother-in-law Jon purchased a pool for Alexis and took her out for her first swim in the backyard. Judging by the pictures below, she didn't really have much fun!

Because I just love her to bits, I have to post more pictures of her!

Enjoy!!!

Crazy women drivers?

2006-05-12T14:12:00.000-05:00

I was walking into Wal-Mart this morning after work, when I overheard something rather disturbing.

What does it mean when a mother tells her 4-yr old son, "Well, we'll just tell Daddy that we ran over a Pepsi bottle, that's all." ???

My guess is that means you get the hell outta the way when she's driving down the road!

I'm going to miss Donovan...

2006-05-08T12:59:00.000-05:00

General consensus is this: I'm a pretty nice person. And I have to agree. Sure, I've had my share of the occasional breaking of one of the Ten Commandments thing - who hasn't? But on Judgement Day, I'd like to think I've got a pretty good shot of making it passed Purgatory and heading straight on up the ladder to hang out with the heavenly choir of angels and such.

I'm sure going to miss not being with my husband for eternity.

I can admit when I've done wrong. I'll acknowledge my mistakes and seek forgiveness. And in most cases, shoplifting a bottle of nail polish from Zellers is pardonable.

But how can you excuse calling a Man of the Cloth a terrible name?

You see, just the other week, Dono and I went out for ice cream at the BDI (Bridge Drive-In) - Home of the Creamiest Shakes in Town, so they claim (I go for the hot fudge sundaes myself) - and standing before us at the order window, was none other than locally-acclaimed pastor of Winnipeg's Calvary Temple, Bruce Martin.

What happened next, although taking mere moments, seemed to go in slow motion.

"Hey, that's that Calvary Temple bastard!", exclaimed Donovan.

Pastor Martin turned slightly - was it sounds from the street that caught his attention? A few birds fighting over a crumb in the parking lot perhaps?

Perhaps.

Whatever Donovan needs to tell himself to get to sleep at night.

But I'm convinced (as I'm sure Dono is, subconsciously) that Pastor Martin turned slightly to getter a better peripheral glance of the man who just insulted the most popular bible-endorser this city has ever known. Did he want to get a look at the man whose soul he needed to save? Or maybe it was to look at a man who had just doomed his soul forever?

I quickly changed the subject and began talking loudly to distract the good Pastor - "So, those shakes - are they REALLY the creamiest shakes in town?"

After we had collected our icy treats, we retreated to the car, and it was here that I told Donovan of my observations...of how he spoke maybe just a little too loudly, and how the Pastor had more than likely heard the comment.

Donovan, my good husband, immediately felt the guilt, and tried to back pedal his way out of his newly-inherited demise. "I didn't mean it like that!", he insisted, repeatedly. Was it me he was trying to convince....or himself? He even went so far as to suggest going to the Calvary Temple and apologizing to the man in person.

But, no efforts have yet been made in that attempt.

I sure am going to miss my husband.

Currently playing: U2 - Until the End of the World

Pushing 28

2006-05-03T15:21:00.000-05:00

Despite the fact that I was slightly awkward in high school , believe it or not, I still thought I was, for the most part, a pretty hip chick. I mean, I would go to every concert that came through town, I bought - and cranked my stereo to - the latest CDs, I even wore banana clips at the height of their popularity even though I knew at the time they were anything BUT cool.

I was "down" with what the kids were digging. I was "cool". And this wasn't a phase. Oh no - my coolness factor was something that was a part of me, something that would only get better with time.

But lately, I'm beginning to notice that maybe that was all just a happy little fantasy. Maybe I'm really NOT as cool as I thought I was! Or maybe......could it be.....I'm just getting old?!!

I feel I'm stuck in a time warp, and it's because I'm starting to discover now what my parents had been telling me all along - maybe that music IS too loud. Maybe the new fashion trends DON'T look as good as the kids think they do (do asses REALLY need to be hanging out of the back of a pair of way-too-big-jeans in order to be classified as "in vogue"?).

Maybe, if we all still lived in the early to mid-nineties, I'd fit in just fine.

No....no......let's face it, we're just getting old!

Below is a list of reasons why I know I'm getting old:

1. Driving my hubby's cool car on a warm day, with the t-tops off, I was happily cranking "Daydream Believer" through the streets of Winnipeg, only to be greeted with the grimacing faces of younger people in their cars around me.

2. I used to love Friends, but now I can't seem to get enough of The Golden Girls.

3. When I see a group of youngins at the bus stop, I can't help but wonder, "Where'd they get those sideways ball caps?!"

4. Seeing teenagers smoke really disgusts me.

5. I have no desire to upgrade my free Nokia cell phone - why do I need a phone that takes pictures? That's what cameras are for!

6. Bob Barker looks better now than ever before!

7. I would much rather go out and do some gardening than go shopping.

8. I do (for the most part) daily, household chores without being prompted, and I actually enjoy cleaning!

9. When I see the kids with their sideways ball caps, I just wanna yell at them to PULL UP YOUR GD PANTS!!!

10. Apparently, and I just found this one out, Peter Cetera is NOT cool. Who knew?!

I'm pushing 28 now, 30's just around the corner, and then, well, it's all downhill from there.

Well, as long as I keep on remembering to wear bras, I think perhaps growing older won't be as offensive to the world as I think it could!

Currently playing - Rod Stewart - Forever Young

I married a Winnipeg Jet!

2006-04-24T16:07:00.000-05:00

How was I to know that when Donovan asked me to marry him, that I wouldn't know everything there was to know about him? (how many times can I use the word "know" in one sentence?!) Isn't that what marriage is? The next step in a committed, loving relationship built on TRUST?

Well, that doesn't seem to be the case. (Really, it wouldn't have mattered, I married him because he's got a cute butt!)

According to the theory of the general public, because my husband owns, and proudly wears, a Winnipeg Jets jersey, he must in fact have been a hockey player in the legendary, now-defunct NHL team.

Certainly I am not a credible source - I myself do not make up the general public.

Oh no.

My belief in this theory is based on information I've gathered from a cross-section of this city's demographic.

How can I be so sure?

Simple.

Every time I go to the store, or any other public place, in my WestJet uniform* (*note: I run errands after work, it's not like I make a point of putting my uniform on before I go out anywhere!), I can't even begin to tell you how many times people would stop me and say, "Hey, you work for WestJet - do you like being a flight attendant?"

As you know, I, in fact, am NOT a flight attendant, nor have I ever been. No, I'm a lowly CSA, which means I do MORE work than a flight attendant and get half the pay.

But just because I'm wearing the uniform, people automatically assume I'm a flight attendant.

Could this theory hold water? Would that not mean, then, that every time Dono dons his Def Leppard shirt, people could misconstrue his simple love of the hair-band music for something bigger? They don't - but I would love to see the day when Dono's approached in the supermarket by some schlub asking him if he's a member of the band, simply because he's wearing the band shirt! Why is it that people don't assume he's an Ottawa Senator when he wears his official NHL Sens jersey out, but that I'm always tagged with the "She works for WestJet, so she's a flight attendant" stigma?

I just tell them, "Yeah, being a flight attendant is the BEST JOB in the world," and walk away.

FA, or CSA?

Currently playing: Tom Cochrane - Sinking Like a Sunset

Back from hiatus - it's BLOB time!

2006-04-22T22:39:00.000-05:00

It's official - I've come out of hiding!

Sorry for the delay in updating this, you see, I'm a very busy gal. Not to confuse "busy" with "important" - I've just had lots of things to do, and unfortunately, blogging got bumped to the back burner.

One of the reasons I have neglected my piece of the cyber pie is this - Dono and I just came back last week from a refreshing, fun, and well-deserved holiday!

First we hit up Calgary (YYC, in airline terms) to visit our dear friends, and new parents, Danny and Lyndsay - and we were excited and thrilled to meet their baby girl Lilly!

Danny and Lyndsay are fantasmically wonderful people, terrific friends, and fabulous parents (if they trusted us with their little girl in our arms, that makes them aces in my books!) HA!

Here's a picture of Donovan enjoying a quick nap while Lilly screams (I'm trying my best to stay calm....."Lyndsay, I think she wants her mommy now!").

And here, Lilly's cries have awoken Donovan from his once-peaceful slumber, but she seems to have found solace in his ear-piercing cries. ("Lyndsay, I think he needs a diaper change!").

Danny and Lyndsay are gracious hosts, and a blast to be around - but our visit was short-lived, because after 2 days, we were off to Vancouver (YVR) to visit Uncle Walter and Hilde!

Unc picked us up from the airport in beautiful YVR, a city riddled with colour (it was a nice change from home, with the dead grass and empty flower beds), half an hour late due to traffic tie-ups (which was totally ok by Dono and myself - gave us plenty of time to play "What colour car does Unc drive? Is that him? Or is THAT him?!") and we all went out for a bite at the Flying Beaver while the jams died down. From that point on, we knew we were going to go home with sore cheeks and stomachs from lots of smiling and laughter!

You see, Unc and Hilde are a force to be reckoned with! This wild duo are non-stop crazy! From their cute bicker-sessions to their full-out off-the-wall-induced antics, ensued by belly-laughs, Unc and Hilde are always a pleasure to be around.

Unc, being the bighearted man that he is, went so far to be an accomodating host as to take me on a trip to Ikea - and he put up with me! We had a blast, walking through the maze of merchandise, and Unc even managed to catch a test snooze on a bed display!

Unc asked me when I was going to BLOB again (he says he enjoys reading my blog!), so here ya go, Unc! This one's for you!

So there you are, my reason for being a blog...errr, BLOB slacker! I'll do my best, now that things appear to be returning to normal, to keep this more up to date!

Currently playing: Rod Stewart - Downtown Train

Ode to my husband

2006-03-27T21:22:00.000-06:00

My husband is a better wife than I am!

Rest assured, he is definitely 100% man! But let me tell you, he certainly makes a better housewife than I do!

I HAD to blog about this, the most recent installment in my mental catalog, "Reasons Why I Married the Best Man Ever".

Aside from the fact that he does housework (without prompting) - dishes, laundry, etc., this one takes the cake.

The other day, on one of my few days off, Dono called in sick to work. I thought this would be a great opportunity for us to play! And after he did some resting and general getting-bettering (?!), we had a chance to sit down together and watch some TV. Well, my poor husband was too sick to care what was on the tube - so he indulged me when I asked him if he minded if we watched the only soap I've ever watched - Days of Our Lives.

It was noon - this meant the show we were about to watch was a rerun of yesterday's 3:30pm show. Well, the show began with sweet Mimi being coerced by her mother Bonnie and fellow vixen Kate to guilt Belle (Kate's daughter-in-law) into NOT telling Mimi's future husband - Shawn (Belle's first love) - that she's still in love with him. Well, after THAT introduction, the editors cut to a scene of Carrie lying in a hospital bed, with Lucas and Austin on either side (both boys are step-brother to Phillip - Kate's son and Belle's husband, just fyi!), and she was going to tell the men which of the two she's decided to spend the rest of her life with. Both men were sweaty and anxious, and Carrie, being a soapstar, has the endearing, inherent quality of dragging scenes out to last an entire show.

Well! Donovan was GLUED to the tv! "Who is Carrie going to pick? I hope she picks Lucas, he seems like a nice guy!" ..."Oh man, Belle is SO going to tell Shawn at the wedding! That's going to be disasterous!"

So by the end of the show, Donovan told me he wanted to call in sick the next day just so he could stay home and watch - this was when I informed him that, "Hey, guess what, a new one is on at 3:30 today!"

I had NO IDEA the monster (in an endearling manner - more of a sweet, cuddly creature!) I've created! Donovan kept talking about the first show long after it was over, and was sitting in front of the tv waiting for the next one a half hour early!

3:30 rolls around - and there we are, a picture of what we were a mere 3 hours prior, cuddled on the couch and watching these dramatic stories unfold before our eyes.....when Dono pronounces, "We need bonbons to eat while watching this!"

"Yeah," I said, "but there's no time to get any. Do we have anything in the house we can substitute?"

"No....I'm gonna go to the store!", Dono exclaimed!

"NOO, you'll miss something!"

"Kitty, we NEED chocolate to eat to watch this!"

So sure enough, by the time the next commercial break rolled around, Dono bolted out the door and got in my car and sped to the 7-11! He came back, after having missed really nothing spectacular, with a bag of Fudgee-o cookies!

Well, we devoured those cookies as quickly as we devoured the storylines on the show, sinking our teeth into the fudgee-o goodness as we bit into the delicious drama of Sammy blackmailing Lexi into persuading Carrie into choosing one guy over the other.

Mmmmm, deeeeee-licious!

I've married the best man EVER!

Stuffed animals stuffed in places they shouldn't be!

2006-03-19T20:42:00.000-06:00

So it's been a while since I blogged last - don't get me wrong, many blog-worthy things have happened since my last posting. If I wasn't so busy with work, I could've blogged a lot sooner - perhaps I could've blogged about how Steven Tyler almost ran me and my sister (and my niece) off the road; I could've blogged about how angry it's making me that Napoleon Dynamite is whoring himself and his nerd image to any movie at a whim.

But I won't.

Instead, I've decided to blog about something that makes me raving mad.

Not in a "I'm going to run you off the road like Steven Tyler almost did to me" way.

But still pretty burnt up.

This is something that we've all seen, something that I don't think one person can satisfactorily justify, or fully explain.

This is the phenomenon of people lining the interior along the rear window of their car with stuffed animals.

Why?

Why do people do this?

It's truly an enigma.

You know what I'm talking about... granny cars, chachi cars, cars driven by "Daddy's Little Princess", with big stuffed bears, kittens, or dogs, perched upon the ledge, staring down the unfortunate drivers who are behind them at red lights.

Why?

The only thing I can think of as to why someone would do this is because the driver has a love for stuffed animals. That's fine - but keep it at home, or in the front seat! If you love stuffed animals THAT MUCH (and you're old enough to drive?), putting them on the back ledge, crammed against the rear window seems pointless - how are you going to retrieve them with ease and give them a little snuggle as you drive? You can't! So why not put them in the front seat so they can travel beside you, and you can snuggle with them as often as you like?

Why not?

Because that's WEIRD, isn't it?

Well so is shoving Cuddles the Bear in the back window of your car, positioned only to stare down the drivers behind you!

I hate stuffed animals stuffed in the rear of cars. Stuffed animals shouldn't be stuffed there. That's my rant for today.

disclaimer: the above rant does not include those drivers with babies in a rear-facing car seat.

No Deal or No Deal!

2006-03-07T12:27:00.000-06:00

I don't watch a lot of tv. In fact, my favourite shows (24, Friends, Degrassi Jr High), we have on DVD, so we just watch them whenever we feel like it. Then, there are the times Dono and I will watch whatever's on A&E: Dog the Bounty Hunter, Criss Angel: Mindfreak, American Justice, City Confidential.

But there was one show that Dono and I managed to catch the tail end of last week - a new, addictive game show hosted by the Boston Pizza potentate himself, Mr. Howie Mandel.

The game: Deal or No Deal.

Based on a series that debuted in Holland in 2002 and became an international hit, Deal or No Deal is about luck and playing the odds.

Contestants are faced with 26 briefcases held by 26 models, each case with a hidden value ranging from a penny to the top prize that will escalate by week’s end to $3 million.

As the game progresses and cases are eliminated, a contestant weighs the chance of snaring a big prize against lesser but still tempting offers made by the show’s “bank,” represented by an anonymous, silhouetted figure.

(I believe the figure to be the once-reclusive alien life form, Alf, who is trying to make a comeback in the new millennium with baby steps, first as a silhouetted-banker man, then, I'm guessing, as the love interest of an amphetamine-addicted Bea Arthur plagued by hallucinations in a Ludacris rap video. Or better yet, in Patrick Swayze's rap video, once he breaks on to the scene. Hey, if Howie Mandel can make a comeback, why not Alf???)

But that's beside the point.

Donovan and I are hooked on this game show.

For the past few days, Dono had been checking our local listings to find out when the next time this gem would air. And sure enough, last night was said time.

I was feeling burnt out from working 94 hours a week, but boy oh boy, I just couldn't wait to snuggle underneath my electrode blanket (!) in the darkness of our newly-renovated basement by the light of the glowing TV and indulge in my new obsession. Even Dono, though he had pages to colour, was gearing up to get as much done as he could before 7pm, so that he could join me on the couch for this exciting game of greed!

The clock struck 7. Entertainment Tonight was just wrapping up, the credits rolling on the screen. Then...Howie!

"IT'S ON!" I screamed.

Oooh, this was gonna be GOOD! There was Howie, and he just called his first contestant. The game was underway! The player chose his case, the model placed it beside him. Then he started to call out numbers of cases, and the first 2 of the game were opened: $1, $0.01...oh MAN, this is how the game is PLAYED!

And that's when it happened.

KARE News was interrupting Deal or No Deal for a Special Report.

("Better be an earthquake or something pretty big," I thought to myself. "Why else would they interrupt this show?")

"Kirby Puckett has died," the reporter said.

Ok - gee, that's too bad...thanks for the report, now let's get back to the show!

But no, the reporter carried on for 23 minutes.

I was mad.

23 MINUTES!!!!

Now, this may sound pretty insensitive of me, but you have to understand this: to me, a Special Report - one that's interrupting a fantasmically-divine game show such as Deal or No Deal - should, in my eyes, take a few minutes to report. No matter WHAT programming they're interrupting - unless it's something that is going to affect me and my family in the next few moments (ie. tornado, terrorist attack, M&M recall). They should state the facts, and wrap it up by saying, "More on this during your 10 o'clock news tonight." They should NOT take up 23 minutes of my Deal or No Deal time to repeat the same facts over and over and over and OVER again. They're just gonna go through it all again during their news at night programs anyways!

I'm sorry that someone died, it sure is a sad thing. But don't occupy so much time away from a program that isn't on a regular schedule - and not on any other freakin' channel! - to tell me something that really doesn't affect me, and that I can (and will) hear about later!

Because I was snuggled on the couch under my electrode blanket (!) to see (no) Deal or No Deal, I ended up watching Walk the Line again.

Fair trade-off.

And just when I was getting to be ok with seeing Howie Mandel again. Maybe it's a sign... a sign transmitted over the satellites in our earth's atmosphere, a transmitted signal from alien life forms who are fighting Alf's return to the boob tube because he should be staying a recluse.

Like Bea Arthur.

I digress.

Currently playing: Prince - Purple Rain

And the Oscar DOESN'T go to....

2006-03-06T08:38:00.000-06:00

Can I say something?....Of course I can, this is MY GD blog! Well, ok, so let me say this:

Last night's spectacle, the Academy Awards, has left me with a bittersweet taste in my mouth.

I had never intended on even remotely pretending to care about whom Oscar was going home with last night, but I found myself sitting on the edge of the couch, rooting for one particular film and all its participants.

Now I can admit that I was biased in my support - although I haven't yet seen any of the other big nominated movies (Capote, Crash, Brokeback Mountain, and Good Night, and Good Luck), I still felt with great certainty that the film I saw was just THAT GOOD that it would take home all the statuettes for each of the 5 categories it was nominated. (Don't even get me started on the fact that this wasn't even given a nod for Best Picture.)

When Donovan and I agreed to go see Walk the Line in theatres, we had no idea what it was we were about to experience. I was not a fan of Johnny Cash - but I did give him props for doing a duet with Bono (and who the heck was June Carter?). And I wasn't a fan of Reese Witherspoon, so already this film had some pre-viewing strikes against it. But once the movie began, we were swept away - no, captivated - by the story's powerful plot created by characters acting in unimaginably perfect and seamless portrayals.

I was indifferent in my feelings towards Joaquin Phoenix, after seeing Ladder 49 (which I call "Shitty Dad"), but I was so enraptured by his spellbinding performance as Johnny Cash, and found myself surprisingly impressed with Reese Witherspoon's portrayal of June Carter, and we left the theatre in awe of this exquisite masterpiece, wanting more!

(I think we were even THAAAAAAAAAAAT close to going back into the movie theatre and seeing it for a second time!)

Well, my loving husband purchased this divine piece of movietry (another new word of mine) not even a week ago, and we've already both watched it twice more since.

So it was no wonder that last night, I was hanging on to the hope of seeing my new favourite buddies walking up onstage to accept the Oscar.

Only my hopes were hanging off the edge of a slippery slope, and they plummeted towards the earth, shattering into tiny fragments of dirty old hope-bits that were trampled on by stampeding buffalo and washed away by acidic rain.

Joaquin was up against Philip Seymour Hoffman, for his role in Capote, and Heath Ledger's gay cowboy character in Brokeback Mountain. Even though I had a sinking feeling that Joaquin's name wouldn't be called, I still had a knot in my stomach.

As they were announcing the nominees for this category, and sticking the camera in the actors' faces, Joaquin mouthed "I love you River" to his long-deceased actor-brother (who of course died of a drug overdose some years back).

Or maybe he was just chewing on a big wad of gum.

No, no, I'm pretty sure I saw what I saw.

And then Hoffman's name was announced as the Oscar winner. Which makes me feel good, knowing that Hoffman's movie, shot in Winnipeg, puts us on the map again (shouts out to Peg City), but my heart just sank to see Joaquin's graceful rejection face.

But two categories later, like a Phoenix rising from the ashes of my shattered hope (like that Phoenix-reference?!), the Best Actress category was up. And I don't even care to know who the others were, or what movies they were in - all I needed to hear was Reese's name being called to accept the honour - and there it was!

Reese thanked costar Joaquin Phoenix who "put his heart and soul into the performance" playing Johnny Cash and also thanked "my wonderful husband (Ryan Phillippe) and two children – who should be going to bed."

Bittersweet.

But for those Walk the Line-heads like me, we can take solace in this review, knowing that we are not alone in thinking JP rocked the hizzouse in this flick: if somehow Hoffman and Ledger split the vote, the beneficiary would most definitely be Joaquin Phoenix for his captivating portrayal of Johnny Cash in Walk the Line. Never underestimate the Man in Black, who picked up the Golden Globe for Comedy/Musical actor -- also, his movie's the only one in this category to have broken $100 million, meaning it's most likely more people have seen it more than any other performance.

I don't have to be at work for another 4 hours today....plenty of time to watch Walk the Line again.

Currently playing: Get Rhythm - Joaquin Phoenix as Johnny Cash

Marvel Masterworks: The Ex-Man

2006-02-28T03:09:00.000-06:00

I'd like to introduce you to a buddy of mine.

Well, maybe not my buddy yet, but the way things are going, I'm pretty sure I'll be talking to him very soon.

His name is Nick. C. Thompson, Esquire. He is a Louisville, Kentucky Divorce Lawyer.

Why Louisville, Kentucky? Well, I found him on the internet, and really, just look at this man - he looks like he knows what he's doing.

And I'm sure I'll be needing someone with experience to "get it over with" as soon as possible.

Don't let me mislead you here: it's not that I'm LOOKING to divorce my beloved husband of 18 months. I'm madly in love with Donovan, he's absolutely PERFECT in every way.

But there is someone who doesn't want us to be together anymore; someone who is attempting to drive us apart, and who won't stop until we've officially split.

And the worst part: he's using Donovan's innocent love of, and passion for, comics as the bait.

Wil is the man who is single-handedly responsible for supplying Donovan with the pages of comic books to colour. (I hear Wil reads my blog occasionally, so Wil, this one's for you!) :)

Marvel Masterworks: The X-Men vol. 6 is the bait, and, like a siren, Wil uses this clever, knavish and deceitful temptation to persuade Donovan to linger, thus causing the destruction of our marriage.

Wil is Donovan's supplier of comic book pages to colour. And wow, does Donovan ever LOVE to colour comic book pages! Ever since Donovan was a little boy, he knew he wanted to be involved with the comic book industry, either as a superhero himself, or, if not, then the colourist of a book.

Now Donovan used to work at a place called Digital Chameleon, where he did this work full time. And it was his job - he'd go to work, do his thing, and come home to do as he desired.

Donovan isn't at Digital anymore - he has another job, but thanks to Wil, it's like Donovan's working 2 full-time jobs! Wil just won't stop delivering the goods for Donovan to colour! And I don't blame him, Donovan is supermegacrazyhypedup talented when it comes to that - and I used to think that, at first, that's all it was, was Wil recognizing Dono's talents as mind-blowing, and as asking an old friend for some help.

But nowadays, I'm convinced Wil is bombarding Donovan with pages so much that his intentions are no longer to give Donovan something to just keep him occupied every now and then. Oh no - Wil's intentions are to assault Dono's talents and consume every morsel of free time he would ever hope to have, inevitably leading us to divorce! Everyday, when I come home from work, or have a day off, I look forward to spending time with my husband - but alas, I cannot, as he is tied up finishing up a page or starting a new book!

"Hey Donovan, want to go out to a movie tonite?"

"No sorry, I've gotta finish this page for Wil."

"Hey hun, wanna fool around?!"

"No sorry, Wil just sent me another page!"

HA!

I'm convinced Wil is trying to drive us to divorce with all this extra work he's giving Donovan. So from now on, I am officially dubbing Wil, the "Ex-Man".

disclaimer: Wil, I'm totally just ribbing you on here! Don't stop giving my husband the extra work - he needs the money to buy Mamma a new pair of shoes! :)

Let me get this off my chest...

2006-02-24T18:52:00.000-06:00

I need to take this opportunity to address something.

It's something that's been at the back of my mind for a very long time now; something that I have suppressed for many years, but it's something that can still resurface and eat away at me when I least expect it.

And so now, I'm going to let this ghost out of my closet. I'm going to come forward and hopefully, by addressing this issue, this demon will never again taunt me.

So please, sit back, relax, and attempt to understand my anger/frustration/humiliation as I begin to unfold this story for you.

The year was 1992. I was in Grade 9 at St. Boniface Diocesan High School. My first year in high school, and believe it or not, I wasn't "cool". Sure, I had my little group of friends, but we weren't "bad" by any stretch of the imagination. We were the nerds - the "baddest" thing we ever did was maybe run around with scissors in our hands, or like one time in Art class, I purposely left the cap off of the glue bottle. Boy, did I ever feel BAD! But when it came to things that really mattered - fashion for one, but we won't go there - no, things like MUSIC, I sure wasn't "down" with what the kids would call "hip".

I was feeling like a bit of a loser, and I needed to rebel.

(Imagine that!)

So one day, before class started, I took a spot at the back of the classroom. All the cool kids were congregating at the front, sitting on top of their desks, talking about how bad they were. They were dressed in black, playing air guitar with each other and raving about Metallica, and it was then that I decided, "This is it! I'm going to be bad now!"

So I reached into my Hello Kitty pencil case and found a black pen. Ooooh, I was going to be so bad I could TASTE it! I was going to vandalize school property! And I was going to do it by scrawling something on my desk!

But I couldn't write something "dirty", that wasn't my style. No, I would not only be bad, but I would show my coolness by writing the name of a popular rock band on my desk! I couldn't pick something that would incriminate another classmate; I had to choose the name of a band that was still popular, but that wasn't mentioned as much as Bon Jovi or Slayer.

Who's that band that sings that hit song Jeremy? That band of hooligans with that lead singer Eddie Vedder, the one the girls were always drooling about?

Oh yes!

My body shook with anticipation, and my hand anxiously began to write the name of this band, but I had to do it quickly so no one would actually witness my act.

There - it was done! I had done it! I was bad!

I sat there, at my desk, proud of this pivitol moment in my teenage-hood. Class had begun, and I couldn't focus on anything except for the words that I had covertly scribbled on the desk, shuffling my papers around inconspicuously to get someone's attention, only to act as though it had been there before I had even entered the classroom. No one knew - and that was ok. I knew how bad I was, and that was all I needed!

I was satisfied.

Fast forward to a couple of weeks later...

My friends and I were headed to the classroom for our lesson on adjectives and pronouns. As we turned the corner, I saw that the cool kids weren't congregated at the front of the room as they normally were. No, this day they were sitting around MY desk, banging their heads to the lyrics they were singing, oblivious to my personal treasure that was just beneath them. I excused myself past them, and took my seat. My act of vandalism was still sitting there, staring up at me. Just as I was admiring my handiwork, one of the cool kids caught the object of my gaze... and proceeded to point.

"Hey!", he exclaimed, "Look at this!"

The cool kids all leaned in to see what he was referring to. My smirk was undeniable.

Until he started to laugh.

"PerAL Jam!" he snorted.

What's this? I spelled the name WRONG????

My smirk began to subside.

"HAHAHA!!!!" he continued. "I remember when I wrote this!!! PerAL Jam! Man, I'm funny!"

Ok, NOW I was mad! Not only did I SCREW UP my only chance at coolness by spelling the name of Pearl Jam wrong, but now, right before my very eyes, this cool kid was taking the credit - and being hailed by his buddies as a funny hero!

And that's when I decided I would only enjoy music by bands whose names I can't screw up.

I love U2!

Slogans I Hate

2006-02-18T10:31:00.000-06:00

Year after year, season after season, advertisers from around the nation all flock to one common sales tag line to highlight their offerings for any particular time of year. And this drives me nuts! Where is the creativity, people? My guess is advertisers are just getting lazy now - and hey, what may have worked ONCE (the first time it was used 20 years ago), why not use it again? And again? And AGAIN?

This drives me crazy.

(To see other related things that make me feel this way, visit "Words that make me crazy".)

The following is a list - albeit a SMALL list - of phrases/slogans/tag lines that drive me mad:

1. For the September-October sales: Fall into savings
And similarly, for the April-May deals: Spring into savings

grrrrrrrrrrr!!!

2. For Valetine's Day: A Sweetheart of a deal!

GRRRRR!!!!!

Ok, so honestly, those are the only ones I can think of. But believe me, if I think of any more, I'll definitely put them up here! Help me out guys, what am I missing? What slogans do you see/hear that are just plain irritating?!!!

Happy Valentime's...uhhh...ValentiNe's Day!

2006-02-14T18:05:00.000-06:00

"Zellers...where Customer Service is ZERO!"

2006-02-12T11:21:00.000-06:00

I received my weekly flyer from Zellers in the mail last Wednesday, and the savings advertised on the front page were amazing! A little mini "boombox" for only $20, and - here's the kicker - my mother's favourite fragrance, Oscar de la Renta, a 4-pc set, on sale for 50% off! I was so excited to have discovered this little gem, and I couldn't wait for Saturday morning to arrive to partake in the flyer's advertised "Saturday Store Crashers" sale. The flyer stated "limited quantities, no rainchecks available", so I knew we had to be there first thing in the morning.

So Donovan and I went to bed early on Friday night, and set the alarm for 7am - one hour prior to store opening. By 7:30, we were out the door, half asleep and without makeup on (that goes for just me now, since Donovan stopped playing in his rock band!).

We were pleased to see that only a few cars littered the lot, and that eager Zellers patrons were already beginning to line up outside the doors in the nippy winter air. Donovan and I quickly walked (we didn't want to look like nerds and RUN to the still-locked doors) past the elderly folk to make it to second in line.

Our enthusiasm could barely be contained - we were mere moments away from indulging in the spectacular savings that this establishment was about to offer, and we began to salivate just thinking about the incredible deals we were about to sink our teeth into! Our plan was in place - we decided our mission would be best served if we split up: Donovan was going to make a bee-line for the stereos, and I was going to get the perfume.

And so the moment of truth - the sales girl approached the doors and began to unlock them (a procedure that took far too long for my liking...no doubt she wasn't as anxious as we were about her employer's fabulous offerings). Once the doors opened, Donovan pushed his way past the old woman and her middle-aged son who were ahead of us in line to race towards the electronics department, and I headed for the fragrance section.

The race was on! The flyer stated that "limited quantities" were available for the perfume, and I could see others following my lead, but I had a good start on them. There was no way they were going to catch up!

Soon I reached the fragrance section. Should be an easy find - it was, after all, a "Saturday Store Crasher". I was expecting to see flashing lights and big neon arrows pointing to this spectacular little deal. I circled the counter once, twice, thrice (because thrice is nice, according to Fr. Darren, the priest who married Donovan and I). Then the herd of women who were miles behind me started to approach the counter, too. They saw me frantically searching for this perfume, and they, too, began their own hunt. But to no avail!

So I decided that, instead of circling aimlessly and perhaps running the risk that this fragrance was placed in another section of the store, I decided to abandon my search efforts and seek out a friendly sales representative to assist me.

The sales representative (Susan, I believe her name was), began to inform me that the store had only received ONE fragrance set, and that substitutions were beign made in lieu of this.

ONE????

Now I'm no expert here, but how can you have a Saturday Store Crasher sale with only ONE item in stock? And never mind THAT, I was the first one to the counter, but that ONE they spoke of couldn't even be found!

And never mind THAT!!!, the substitution they were offering was some smelly Addidas cologne! How can you compare Oscar de la Renta with Addidas?? Absolutely absurd!

Susan brought me back to the counter to show me the Addidas, and the sign posted where the Oscar was SUPPOSED to be - the sign read "temporarily out of stock, rainchecks available".

"Well, that's fine, I'll just get a raincheck for the item," I told Susan.

"But the flyer says 'no rainchecks'," Susan informed me.

This is where we meet the next character in this misadventure - she was Large and In Charge, and she was NOT taking "no rainchecks" for an answer!

"Well, the sign says right here that rainchecks are available, so I'll just take this sign to the Customer Service desk and get my raincheck," Large and In Charge said, as she removed the sign from the counter.

"Well, the flyer says NO RAINCHECKS, so I'll just take this sign back, and you can try going to the Service Desk to see if they'll give you one anyways," Susan said as she began to take the sign back.

"NO, I'LL take this sign," Large and In Charge said, as she ripped the sign out of Susan's hand. "If I give it back to you, I may never see it again!"

Needless to say, I followed Large - if anyone could do anything about anything, it was her, and seeing as how I probably would've given up my attempt after being told to forget it, Large wasn't settling for that.

So we made it to the Service Desk, and sure enough, the same dialogue ensued.

"Well, the flyer says no rainchecks available."

"But this SIGN says I CAN get a raincheck."

The Service Desk lady got on the phone, and as she did this, Large turned around to me and the others in line who sheepishly followed her on this pilgrimage to claim our coveted rainchecks, and she proudly exclaimed loud enough for all to hear:

"Zellers....where Customer Service is Zero!!!"

No one was really sure exactly what she meant by that, but God bless her, she was simply trying to stand up for what she believed in - and it worked!

"Put me down for 2 sets," Large told the Service Desk lady.

When Large was finished, it was my turn - and I asked for 2 as well. One for my mother, and one will go to a shrine that will pay homage to Large and In Charge, for, if it weren't for her, none of us would be in possession of a raincheck for a product that never even existed.

Thank you, Large! For it is your wisdom that I shall share with others, and your words that shall one day be my epitaph - Zellers...where Customer Service is Zero.

ps. Donovan did find the boomboxes, and we each purchased one - although the boombox will never take the place of Oscar.

Currently playing: Kanye West - Gold Digger

Words that make me crazy

2006-02-04T22:33:00.000-06:00

Now I'm not a literary genius. I'm the first to admit my communication skills are sometimes less than perfect, my grammar isn't always up to par, I'll use a word in the wrong context.

But sometimes, some people are just plain SILLY!

The following is a list of words - SIMPLE words - I've heard people use (or misuse, as the case may be).

Scratch "misuse".

The following is a list of words, phrases, and names people blatantly abuse!

1. Valetime's Day
2. Supposebly
3. Dark Vader
4. Liberry
5. Comfortful
6. Chester drawers
7. Expecially
8. It's not pronounced "cue-pon", it's a GD COUPON!
9. Pacific, instead of "Specific"
10. Sammich
11. Somewheres

Sure, modern languages were formed by people saying things differently. At some point, when enough people start using a new word, it sooner or later makes it into the dictionary. "Ain't" made it. I think "dis" is even in some dictionaries now. A new word is one thing, but blatantly pronouncing a word incorrectly doesn't sound clever or cute to me. It makes me cringe. What's worse, is that it's infectious. Everyone starts copying it. Why? This has been going on for years.

But how is it that some people can hear a word mispronounced a few times, and then start saying it, intentional or otherwise? And what really boggles the mind is this: somewhere in the world there must exist (or must have existed) the very first person ever to say it. Who the heck is this person?

Feel free to post your favourite misused and mispronounced words! As much as it drives me crazy to hear it in conversations, it's fun to read about!

Currently listening to: Donovan attempting to drill holes into our plaster walls to hang pitchers...I mean, PICTURES ;)

I spy with my nosey little eye...

2006-02-02T04:24:00.000-06:00

New neighbours have just moved in next door....

I think they're a younger couple, lots of activity going on last night.
When I peeked out the window this morning, I noticed their SUV wasn't parked in the back...where are they, and why didn't they spend their first night with a new home IN their new home? Weird!

I'll do some more spying, and report back again soon!

Spam, Spam, Spam

2006-02-02T03:55:00.000-06:00

I've never heard the name "Trina Miner" before. So to see her name in my inbox, and having her address me as her friend even (no stranger has emailed me and called me their friend since this), had me curious.

Subject heading: My friend, you are in trouble

So my friend Trina writes:

We offer INSTANT DOWNLOAD! You will no need to wait 2-3 week for CD delivery - you can download any program and PC games at once you have purchased it! Most of program packages are within 50-150 MBs and even if you have slow modem connection you'll be able to download for an ONE day.

First of all - SWEET JEEBUS, I had NO IDEA how much trouble I was in! If I had only known sooner - thanks, Trina!

Now I'm not going to get into the importance of staying in school, although I KNOW the author of this email - my FRIEND - was just dying for some proper education. But I suppose where she's from, back in the Ukraine, her family was just too poor to send Trina to school. So Trina left the small village of Bucksaminchukinski (and changed her name from her Slavic-rooted Olga Vladimotzchinski) to pursue a life in the realm of the least educated - no, not with monkeys at the Zoo (in Bucksaminchukinski, the locals were so poor that they eventually ate all the animals in their zoo, so the only mammals they had to display behind bars were uncles perpetually drunk on the Moonshine and infectious rodents) - no, Trina went to pursue a life in the Spam biz, sending emails to her friends around the world and offering INSTANT DOWNLOAD! Of course, with the instant cash Trina makes ("You will no need to wait 2-3 week for CD delivery" = instant bucks), she sends a cut of her pay back home to help support her struggling village.

Nice work, Trina. I'll take 48. (Us Ukies have to stick together!)

Currently playing: Guns 'n Roses - Sweet Child O' Mine

My niece is the CUTEST BABY EVER!

2006-01-27T10:37:00.000-06:00

And why wouldn't she be? She's related to me! HA!

Making the first of many blog entries to come, here is my precious goddaughter Alexis Marie!

You know how when a new baby enters the family, everyone says s/he is the cutest little baby ever? Well, sure they all say it, but I really mean it!

Her cheeks are like big, soft marshmallows, her eyes are huge and dark and full of wonder, and her hair has grown from that of a troll-doll/chia pet fro to a sweep of beautiful, long dark locks.

Lexi is just over 9 months old already, and this Curious little Georgette is in full-crawl-mode! She completely makes my day, when I go to my sister's to visit - I'll yell out from around the corner, "Where's my little poopits?" (note: "poopits" is a term of endearment, a Ukrainian slang'ish word we heard in our household when we were growing up), and I'll hear the high-pitched squeal of recognition and hear the thump-thump-thump of her little hands and knees as they crawl furiously around the corner to see her aunty!

She gives the world's best snuggles and hugs, and she's even learning how to give kisses (although Aunty still has to sneak one in every now and then, only to watch Lexi squeal with excitement and play coy as she throws her head to the other side and laughs)!

I was fortunate enough to have been asked by Leanne to be in the delivery room with her as she popped this little angel out - and from that moment, when I first saw Lexi being brought into this world, I fell in love with her. It was such an amazing experience, to have witnessed something so powerful and so miraculous - and now, to see Lexi, to watch her grow, I see my sister and my brother-in-law Jon in her more and more every day - to know that they made this perfect little girl, and to actually see the resemblance - it's one thing to hear about it, but to actually experience it is something undescribable. I just can't wait for Donovan and I to start having our own little ones -I can't wait to meet them, and to see which of our features s/he will have!

So tell me, is this not the cutest baby EVER??!

Oh man, I want a baby!

Currently playing: Roy Orbison - Mystery Girl

Reasons why I shouldn't be left unattended...

2006-01-26T13:58:00.000-06:00

Chapter 2 - Ways I've Inadvertantly Caused Damage to Our Property

1. Drove my car too far forward into my parking spot and ran into the little fence in our backyard.

2. While cleaning the bathroom with some bleach solution, I accidentally sprayed some on the walls. Now our purple walls have spatterings of green discolourations.

3. Lesson learned: nail polish remover doesn't get orange Kool-Aid out of carpet.

Fresh Legs and a Fresh Man - the story of Gropey McJazz-Hands

2006-01-25T20:07:00.000-06:00

I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce you to a man Donovan and I have cleverly - and appropriately - dubbed Gropey McJazz-Hands.

Gropey is a man that I had the (mis?)fortune of sitting beside at the newly-named Scotiabank Centre (the arena formerly known as the Corel Centre) for the Ottawa Senators game on Monday night.

Now Gropey started off a quiet, simple man, joining us in the 300 section of the arena just after the first period started, taking the empty seat on my right. He was your typical Senators fan - donning his Sens jacket and matching cap with pride. His elderly charm became apparent, and was enjoyed immensely by Donovan and myself, whenever our home team made a good play: instead of clapping, he would raise his arms up in a perfect 90-degree angle perpendicular to his body, and give the Sens an approving display of jazz hands while shouting words like "Fabulous!", "Wonderful!", and "Absolutely splendid!"

As the first period came to an end, Donovan and I stood up and prepared to leave our seats for a few minutes, and Gropey decided to stand up and leave his seat, too. But he didn't leave before (and this is how he got his name) putting his hand on my side and sliding it down to my hip for an extended, and completely unnecessary, amount of time.

"Donovan, that old man is groping me," I whispered in Donovan's ear, as I urged him along the line of people to get me out of Gropey's engrossing grasp. "What the? I'm gonna say something!" Donovan chivalrously replied. "No, it's ok, let's just go," I begged.

So we left our seats, and Gropey went his seperate way.

We didn't see him again until the start of the 3rd period.

This time, the sweet and once-charming old Gropey we first came to know and love was no longer...this time, Gropey had turned into a drunken and completely obnoxious "fan", who reeked of booze and whose jazz-hands could now be likened to out of control grand mal seizures! His arms no longer stayed at the once-familiar 90-degree angle - oh no, they were straight up in the air, and everytime he waived his jazz-hands, he screamed like a maniac.

"YEEEAAAHHHH!!!!! HOORAY!!!"

Those jazz-hands were just a-going!

Then something happened - Donovan and I aren't sure what was going on on the ice - but Gropey decided to lean over me, his hand on my thigh, as he slurred to Donovan above the noise of the crowds around us, "They took it back! Did you see that? They must have gone upstairs and complained!"

"Yeah, I guess so, " Donovan replied, admitting to me that he had no idea what Gropey was talking about. He spied Gropey's hand on my leg, and again begged me to let him say something, or at least switch seats with him, but I declined, citing the end of the game was near as my reason for staying put.

And that's when "Fresh Legs" comes into play....Gropey was very pleased with himself, that, despite his gross intoxication, he was still able to commentate the game from his seat to the people around him (namely Donovan and I).

"See that? They're playing smart....they put those fresh legs out on the ice now, that's some smart playing. Those fresh legs are smart. Look at those smart, fresh legs go!"

FRESH LEGS!!!!

So cut to the end of the game - the Sens are in the lead 4-3 with a few seconds to spare. 3...2...1...the buzzer sounds, and excitement fills the arena as Sens fans harmoniously jump to their feet and cheer! Donovan and I leap out of our seats and high five each other - then Gropey leans in and high fives Donovan (and we're talking the double high-five here, both hands...too bad Gropey was too drunk to hit either of Donovan's hands!). So I turn to Gropey (he's standing right there, looking at me...I have to do something....)....awkward pause....the world seems to slow down and almost come to a complete stop. But you know what, I say to myself, this is a hockey game, and here's just a drunk fan having fun, and we had fun laughing at him.

I laugh and open my arms to embrace him - hey, why not, good times were had by all and our team won - and that's when the grope of all gropes happened.

He grabbed my boob and pretty much hung on for a few seconds.

Too much in shock - and afraid of the fight that would ensue if I told Donovan - I just moved away and pushed Donovan out through the throngs of people, as far away from Gropey as we could get!

And that was the last we saw of Gropey!

Despite the multiple showers I took that night, I had a pretty good time, thanks to Gropey - not for his gropiness, but rather for the jazz-hands aspect of it all.

Thanks for the mammaries....uhhh, MEMORIES, Gropey McJazz-Hands!

Wednesday's Spam

2006-01-25T18:50:00.000-06:00

Ok, so our trip to Ottawa produced many blog-worthy stories, some of which I hope to write on soon (once I find enough time away from GD work!).

But in the interim, please enjoy this week's edition of Wednesday's Spam!

This one comes from Bethany Barton @ roach.self@gmx.net. The subject heading:

increase in sexual desire

(is your curiousity piqued yet?)

Bethany writes:

Carefully chosen herbal ingredients are the key to pen1s enlargement
success.

Not only the precise blend of ingredients but also many other factors
have effect on the overall potency and strength of penis enlargement formula.

Some of these factors include growing conditions, geographical location
where herbs are grown, harvest time, the way herbs are stored before processing, the way herbs are processed.

http://cgjlabfmd.nicproc.net/?ehikdxwqowycgjlzppabfm

Well, seeing as how I DON'T have a pen1s - and obviously have no use for this bit of poorly-written information - I decided to click on the link.

Aside from regurgitated information from the copy in the email, I luckily stumbled upon the story of this brave lad - let's call him Burt. Now Burt's story is a touching one...this is the story of Burt, 25, from New York:

My ex-girlfriend used to laugh at the size of my small pen1s. After we broke up I was feeling sorry for myself and stumbled across your website. I figured it couldn't do any harm to try Virility Patch RX for a bigger pen1s. Wow, I am glad I did! I've only been using your enlargement pills for six months but I've already gained three inches in length and one inch in girth.

We appreciate your brutal honesty, Burt, and we thank you for being brave enough to share your personal trials and tribulations, but I've got one question for you - what the hell are you doing with a girl who does nothing but laugh at and insult you? You deserved to be belittled, and you probably only stuck with her because your unit IS so small and couldn't get it anywhere else!

Now I won't get into detail, but I had to bring up this next story. Alan from San Francisco writes:

Thank you, thank you and thank you again! As soon as my order of Virility Patch RX arrived I got out the digital camera and took a 'before' photo of my pen1s. I made a deal with myself that I would take another photo when I was done the batch I ordered. If I didn't see any difference you would have been the first person to hear about it! I couldn't belive my eyes - I was three inches longer.

Who the heck DOES that? Now, I don't have a pen1s, but even if I did, would I take a picture of it? Even if it were to map results of some phoney product? Is this what men do? I wouldn't even THINK of doing that! What the flip is that all about? And what are you going to do with it, show it to your friends and family? "Hey Mom, look at this!"

Thanks for thinking of me, Bethany, and for taking the time to email me, but until I grow a pen1s and become vile enough to want to take pictures of it (perhaps they could be worth money from the Guiness World Book of Records?), I'm going to have to delete this useless bit of information!

Currently listening to: Donovan running upstairs to shut the oven off and prevent our pizza from bursting into flames!

Tonight's the night!

2006-01-23T09:40:00.000-06:00

Well, here we are, day 3 in Ottawa, and tonight is the big event - the reason we made this journey in the first place! I have to admit, I'm still a bit concerned that those tickets that I purchased off eBay for the game tonight are counterfeit....but that just means we'll have more time to spend touring the Parliament buildings! (I'm always looking at the bright side of things!)

I've taken my morning shower in water that fortunately does not reek of eggs (as did our experience at the Econo-Lodge West in Calgary a couple of years back), and I indugled my hair in an entire bottle of complimentary shampoo that smelled like pepper. I'm ready for another day o' fun here in the nation's capital, and believe it or not, really looking forward to tonight's game!

The Ottawa Senators jerseys are awaiting our purchasing at stores near us, so it's time to go....lots to post upon our return tomorrow afternoon! Wish me luck..........I fear my studies in the business of hockey will fail me..........

Wednesday's Spam, one day late...

2006-01-19T04:47:00.000-06:00

Sorry, I was at work for 12hrs yesterday, and by the time I got home, I had just enough energy to watch almost 2 episodes of 24 and have dinner. So this posting comes 4hrs and 47 minutes late....sorry Robin!

Well, without further ado, here we go!

This email comes from /MatureDating/ zoutrnadkfj@hotmail.ca, and this person, obviously concerned with my lifestyle, is encouraging me to findAction closerThenYouThink.

/MatureDating/ writes:

geesh, its amazingHow close some peopleAre! Find aFriend that youCan have someFUN with! http://www.feedingfristy.com

So I thought, since this person obviously spent the time and took the effort to help me find someone - a Friend - that I could have some fun with, I would do them the honour of clicking on the link to the web site they had specifically selected, just for me.

At first, I have to admit, I was a bit leary, as I don't know WHO Fristy is, or how much I'd have to feed it. But once the page finished loading (it took a few minutes), I was greeted with the header, "Local girls looking for...GUYS LIKE YOU".

I thought, "Wow, /MatureDating/ sure sent this email to the wrong person."

And the reason it took so long for the page to download was because of all the pictures of the friendly young ladies, looking to meet guys - NOT like me. Only whoever took these poor girls' pictures had clearly ripped them off - they were not professional photographers - these photographers couldn't even hold their camera angles straight, they were all slipping down, so in some cases, you can't even see the gals' faces! Poor, poor ladies, they had hopes of meeting some friends they could "have some fun with", and now these gents will never know what the faces of these girls look like.

After all that, I still don't know who Fristy is.

To Fristy, whomever you are, here's my advice to you: stay in school.

Currently playing: Queen - Killer Queen

One week of cramming...

2006-01-16T14:32:00.000-06:00

So we're officially 1 week away from watching one of the biggest sporting event matches in Ontario history: the Ottawa Senators vs the Toronto Maple Leafs.

(that's hockey, right?)

I didn't know what to buy Donovan for Christmas - what could I possibly choose for the love of my life that he would appreciate more than anything? So I took the easy route - find the one thing he loves more than me.

So I bought him tickets to the Senators game in Ottawa.

I was right - he is super excited about it, and he does love the Sens more than me.

Unfortunately, I fear this gift will bring about a terrible experience. I'm not a hockey "fan", nor do I understand what "icing" is (if it doesn't come in a tin from Betty Crocker, what's its purpose?). And the Leafs...proper grammer would dictate they should be called the "Leaves". Am I right or am I right? Am I right? Right?

This is just the beginning of a flurry of questions and comments to come. I can envision it now: there we'll be, sitting side by side, the game will have just begun, and Donovan will perspire with pure excitement. His newly-purchased Senators attire will have already begun to lose it's crispness as he fidgets about in his seat. The first whistle of the game will blow - and I'll ask, "What does that mean? Why did they do that?" He'll appease me, at first, thinking he's being sweet and I'm just "adorable" for not understanding. He'll give me explanations in hopes that I'll understand and won't have to ask again. But of course, as the game continues and the next whistle blows, I'll just ask the same questions again. Not to be mean, but simply for the fact that I just don't get it! During the course of the game, his answers will become more curt and brief, they'll be barked at me, and by the end of the game, we'll probably be divorced, citing grounds that I ruined the one event he's been looking forward to since our wedding day.

So that leaves me with one conclusion - I have a lot of studying to do. I've got one week left to cram into my noodle as much knowledge of hockey as I possibly can (and to attempt to stay awake doing it!).

Next year, he's getting socks for Christmas.

Reasons why I shouldn't be left unattended...

2006-01-15T22:29:00.000-06:00

Chapter 1 - Ways I've Almost Burned our House Down

1. Left an oven mitt on top of an element that was on.
2. Left candles burning when I went out shopping.
3. Dropped a lit match on the rug when lighting candles.

Note: All of the above actions were accidental. None of these accidents caused property damage or bodily harm....the latter, I'm sure, will be caused once Donovan reads about them!

Currently listening to: the carnie "security" "guards" here at the airport discussing which cheese lasts the longest without going mouldy. I think cheddar is the number one choice....so far.

Wednesday's Spam

2006-01-11T06:05:00.000-06:00

I'd like to start a new series on my blog, highlighting the best spam my hotmail account has received every week. This new series, aptly named "Wednesday's Spam", kicks off to a firecracker of a start with this compelling email from "real young to middle-aged women" (seriously, I'm just going to copy and paste it!).

Now, real young to middle-aged women writes:

young and middle-aged females...
Lecia (22) here... I hopefully, demanding to meet complements.

I haven't yet figured out if "real young to middle-aged women" is the NAME of the person who is penning this plea (obviously not, otherwise there would have been some MAJOR problems trying to explain THAT name to all your friends in kindergarten), or a request for that which the subject line describes. I wouldn't consider the latter, until I read the copy in the email. It starts off, "young and middle-aged females..." as if it's a call to those who fall in that specified demographic. But then, confusion ensues when Lecia (22) begins to tell us that she is "hopefully, demanding to meet complements."

Is she hopefully demanding to meet complements from young and middle-aged females? Is she looking for an assortment of females who are young or middle aged, or is she looking for that one person who's age is the magic number that considers them to be both young AND middle-aged at the same time? And if so, what IS that magic number?

And how do you meet complements?

My advice to Lecia: stay in school.

Currently listening to: airport-wide announcements (I'm at work!)

Bono is my friend!

2006-01-09T10:17:00.000-06:00

It's true!

My decade-long obsession with the frontman of the greatest band to have ever walked the face of the earth has sent me - MOI!!! - an email, and in it, called me his FRIEND!

Bono has been the target of many of my restraining-order-worthy thoughts for over 10 years now, and luckily my husband doesn't mind too much! :) Last March, we flew out to Vancouver to catch their Vertigo tour (my 3rd time seeing them, Donovan's second...amateur!). While we, along with the millions of other fans, were pouring into the arena, we were stopped by an army of yellow-shirt-clad yuppies, handing us pamphlets to read and documents on clipboards to sign. This was, of course, in support of Bono's One campaign - "The Campaign To Make Poverty History".

Of course we signed our names to support the cause, and added our email addresses to be on the mailing list. Granted, I get "emails" all the time from "celebrities", thanking me for my support (it's not a financial contribution, but rather just an opportunity to voice my opinion and pen my name to petitions when requested), but no time have I received an email from someone on this campaign where I was called someone's "friend".

Let alone from the man I've been pining over for nearly half of my life.

This is the email I received from Bono. You will note in the very first line, BONO HIMSELF calls ME his FRIEND:

Dear Friend:
Thank you for starting a movement to save lives. Thank you for asking your friends and family to join ONE.org. Thank you for calling on the President, Congress and the heart of America to do more for the world's poor.

Thank you for being one of the first 2 million of us crazy enough to say America won't stand for global AIDS and stupid poverty. And thank you to the people who joined campaigns in other countries to make their governments come to the table and do more for the world's poor.

Thank you for the concrete results that came from calling on America to invest more in fighting poverty and disease in Africa and around the world. In July, the whole world heard you: the leaders of the 8 richest nations - the G8 - pledged an additional $50 billion annually to poor countries by 2010, half of it for Africa.

Already our money is getting results. Thank you America for putting over half a million people on life-saving AIDS medicines and leading an effort that has provided 8 million anti-malaria bednets and treated 1 million people with TB. And thank you for pushing our governments to use this money to provide AIDS drugs to everyone who needs them and basic schooling for every child.

Thank you for being part of a campaign that will cancel the crushing debts of up to 36 countries, and more to come.

Thank you to the people who called on government to act and thank you to the people in government, who started to listen and who will have to make sure we keep these historic promises and build upon them.

We must keep the positive pressure on our leaders if we want them to follow through. Americans must give these leaders permission to invest just a fraction more of the budget in what we know works, from $5 mosquito nets to drug treatments that cost pennies apiece.

If ONE thing is certain for 2006, this campaign will keep growing, your voice will grow louder, your compassion and thirst for justice will keep saving more lives. By 2008, ONE needs to have 5 million supporters, each of us doing what we can, learning more, telling friends, calling Congress.

Take one minute and ask three friends to join ONE and make the impossible possible with you in 2006.

Beating AIDS and extreme, stupid poverty, this is our moon shot. This is our generation's civil rights struggle, our anti-apartheid movement. This is what the history books will remember our generation for — or blame us for, if we fail. We can't afford to fail nor will we.

We've come a long way, and we've got a long way to go. Now let's really get started.
Thank you,
Bono

Does it get any more personal than that?! Ok, so it's a long shot, but y'know, the content of the generic email is very powerful and worth reading as it is.

But it certainly does help his cause and affect MY contributions by calling me his friend!

Ok, I'm over it now!

Currently listening to: my dryer running, probably shrinking all my clothes, that bastard!

MC Swayze

2006-01-05T10:29:00.000-06:00

And I'm not talking about a new McDonald's "burger" here.

The best news (and by "best" I mean "most entertaining", not necessarily the "best" "idea") I've heard all year - 5 days in now! - is that Point Break star Patrick Swayze wants to release a rap single! www.allhiphop.com reports:

After years of being indirectly involved with hip-hop music, actor/pop singer Patrick Swayze is finally experimenting with rap music.

Swayze recently said he was experimenting with “rap rhythms as an emotional undercurrent for ballads.”

You'll recall the 53-year-old Swayze had a pretty darn big hit with the song “She’s Like The Wind” from the soundtrack to the film Dirty Dancing in 1987.

Does that make him a "singer" then? So what, does that mean my neighbour is a private investigator just because he spies on me through my windows?

I think Swayze just took his cue from the underground uprising a few years back when the hip-hop community cited the whitest-white man ever, Phil Collins, as an inspiration to rap music!

And since Swayze's last name has been used as hip-hop slang since the early 1990's (the term "Swayze" means to "leave" or "disappear", clearly derived from the title of his 1990 hit film Ghost), he's decided that opens the door for him to explore this avenue.

Uhhh, I really can't believe this is real. I have heard stories of the Armageddon coming when the Mayan calendar comes to a close in 2012, but this is ridiculous. How in the world can he be a rapper? Does he even have any money left?

Swayze, who has a role in the new flick Keeping Mum, did not peg a release date on his new material.

Swazye is currently filming Fox and The Hound II.

Oooh, what a bad, bad boy he is!

Currently playing: The Darkness - Is It Just Me?

Happy New Year!

2006-01-05T10:25:00.000-06:00

A new year, a new post - this one's for you, Robin! (There, Robin, you're on my blog - now quit bugging me and get your own!!!) teehee!

-THE END-

:)

My quota wasn't reached in 2005...

2005-12-31T17:46:00.000-06:00

You see, every year, ever since I bought my car in 2000, I've had - ahem, excuse me - my CAR has had - the uncanny ability to, in the winter time, locate icy patches near red lights and gently slide along, disarming my brakes, until it hits the vehicle in front of me. Usually, this happens twice a year.

In 2005, I've not been privy to this biannual occurance.

So I'm thinking I've either: a.) outgrown my need to "tap" the bumper of the car in front of me with my already-dented-up licence plate on my fender (a subconscious cry for attention, or perhaps my inner driver is telling me it's time for a new car, so I should bang up this one?); b.) simply just become a better driver (nahhhh!); c.) my car, being possessed, is secretly seeking revenge on me for not cleaning it on a regular basis, so it's saving up this year's expected number of times to rear-end the driver in front of me for next year, to make it a four-fold experience.

I'm guessing it's the latter.

Although, I have come pretty danged close to this event twice in the span of one week. And Donovan had the (mis?)fortune of being there for the second time.

I don't speed. In fact, I drive like an old lady. Sometimes. When I'm not in a rush. So the first time, a few weeks back, I was on my way to work, after just having spent the morning and early afternoon with my sister Leanne and her 8-month old daughter, my niece Alexis. As I reflected back on my hours spent with my little goddaughter, I noticed that the van in front of me began to stop at a set of red lights on Notre Dame, and, with there being ample space between our vehicles, I began to gently apply the brakes on my shitty 1999 Pontiac Sunfire.

Only the brakes didn't stop the car.

I was on a one-way collision course with the old lady in the Blue Blockers in the van ahead of me, and she didn't even see it coming, despite my efforts to warn her by laying on my horn. My car was sliding and gaining speed and momentum as it went. Visions of my car hitting hers filled my head, and I could even hear the crunching sound of the metal twisting as my licence plate would, once again, become tangled up in the bumper of the car ahead of me.

But then, with what can only be described as the Miracle of Christmas, my car came to a sudden and unexplained stop, a mere inch (and I'm not even exaggerating!) away from the van in front of me.

The lady in the van hadn't even noticed. I guess she had her CJOB cranked to the nuts and couldn't hear my blaring warnings of my car horn.

The light turned green, and after I dry heaved for a moment, I proceeded to make my way to work - only this time, driving 10km/hr the entire way and shaking uncontrollably.

I can laugh about it now, and I did a few days later, when I was recalling the story with Donovan in the passenger seat after I picked him up from work. I swear to God, my car had chosen that exact moment to scare the crap out of me once more by re-enacting the incident from a few days prior, only this time the van was a gino-mobile. Again my car failed to stop when the brakes were applied, and again my car stopped within an inch of the other car.

Now I carry an extra pair of undies in the car for both Donovan and myself.

The lesson I've learned: 1.) my car IS truly possessed (don't even TRY to read the time on my clock); 2.) driving like an old lady not only makes me a better driver, but also saves on gas; 3.) the best prevention for the new year is to strap chains on my tires.

I can only speculate, and had better brace myself for the fact, that in 2006, I will rear-end vehicles on 4 seperate instances to make up for the times I didn't do it this year.

The moral of the story: if you see me on the road, stay the heck out of my way!

Currently listening to: the intro loop of my new favourite show, 24, on DVD, waiting for us to indulge in yet another exciting episode!

My new addiction

2005-12-29T02:51:00.000-06:00

There is a new man in my life.

And my husband loves to watch, too. (teehee!)

The new man is named Jack Bauer, and he heads a field operations unit of the CTU (Counter Terrorist Unit) on our new favourite addiction, 24. Although Kiefer Sutherland isn't the world's most delicious piece of eye candy, his character Jack is certainly a hero among heros - a king among kings - when it comes to defending his country and the people he loves!

Donovan and I recently rented the entire first season of 24 and had ourselves a Jack Bauer marathon - we watched as many as 14 hours of the show in one day! (We would have watched more if Robin didn't show up and play video games!)

But of course we loved having Robin over.

But we also love watching the exciting adventures of Jack.

Now that we've finished Season 1 - and I can't BELIEVE how THAT ONE turned out! - we will be renting Season 2 to watch in the next few days. Goodbye sleep!

There used to be only 3 things in life I cherished: Bono (and his bandmates); my family; and my husband (in no particular order). Now I do believe that my love of 24 supersedes them all.

Or is a close 4th, anyways!

Currently playing: the sounds of Donovan playing one of his XBox games - "Will do!"

Welcome Home, TPK

2005-12-20T10:05:00.000-06:00

For the past year and a half, one of my all-time favourite CDs had been missing:

The Philosopher Kings debut self-titled album.

I'm talkin' one of my FAVOURITE CDs here - right after my U2 collection and Live's Throwing Copper. (And of course, right after Terry Vain and the Itch.....) I listened to the buttery-smooth grooves of this disc on a regular basis, fell asleep to them most times. I LOVE this disc.

The most frustrating thing was that I KNEW where this disc was. Sort of. I had listened to it in Dono's car, kept it in there almost religiously....until one day when I went to reach for it, and it was GONE. M.I.A.

It didn't fall out anywhere. You couldn't understand unless you have been in his car. It's a vacuum, a deep abyss, a collection of things you forget you've ever owned until you somehow stumble across it hiding in the backseat one day. My CD was somewhere IN the car, or had gotten transferred into our new house somewhere. But who knew where it was?!!!

So for the past year and a half, I've been without a staple in my music-loving life. It wasn't like I could just go out and buy a new disc. They don't even MAKE this one anymore, can't find it ANYWHERE. We looked.

Then, somehow, through what I can only surmise is the Miracle of Christmas, I was awoken this morning by the familiar and sultry sounds of Gerald Eaton, serenading me with one of my favourite tunes, "I Can't Get My Mind Around You".

I've cranked my stereo to the max and the album's still playing.

There really IS a Santa Claus!

(Thanks Dono!)

Currently playing: The Philosopher Kings - Leave That Man (I won't be doing that now!) HA!

My New Year's Resolution...

2005-12-17T11:49:00.000-06:00

Every year, around this time, I take a few moments and reflect back on the year gone by. Was I a good enough person? Did I make the most of my year? Did I keep my New Year's resolution?

Although the answers for the first two are primarily subjective, and answers vary on the mood I'm in when I'm asking myself, the answer to the latter is constant: nope.

Every year, for at least the past decade, my resolutions have been the same: to quit smoking and to lose weight. Well, from the time I make my resolution on Jan 1st to the time the end of the year rolls around, I discover that I've increased my cigarette smoke intake and I've packed on some pounds.

So this year, I've decided to change things up a bit.

For 2006, I'm resolving to increase my smoking habits and just balloon out like an SOB.

(We'll see if this reverse psychology actually works!)

Either that, or I'm just going to resolve to not make any New Year's resolutions, and just to continue trying to be a good person and making the most of the new year.

We'll see how much wine I drink at 11:59pm on New Year's Eve - that will determine which resolution I choose to make.

Currently listening to: the sounds of Donovan bringing stuff into our new office from our dining room/storage room upstairs. It sounds soooo relaxing!

Won't someone buy my stuff?

2005-12-15T22:13:00.000-06:00

I love www.usedwinnipeg.com.

I check it out most everyday.

(This is beginning to sound like it's going to turn into a limerick!)

But seriously, I always look for things, like assorted used Ikea items, furniture, books, whatever. So I decided a couple of months ago to make my own contribution to this gigantic online garage sale.

I've posted one of my wedding dresses (not that I've been married more than once...the first 2 were annulled....! - I just happened to buy a dress too early before the wedding and simply changed my mind. So THAT'S been posted for a while. No bites. Then I posted a duplicate of a limited edition U2 lithograph - surely this one's gonna be a hit! Hello bidding war!

Nothing.

THEN I added to my collection of items for sale a South Park collector's plush characters complete with theme box, all in mint condition. I even said I was open to offers.

But not even a glance.

Doesn't anyone appreciate a good deal? And come on, the U2 litho, well, they don't even make this one anymore! And it's even got a certificate of authenticity! Surely SOMEONE out there MUST be interested!

......will you buy my stuff?!

(picture not to scale)!!!

Won't you help Larry Mullen Jr. find a home?!

Currently playing: U2 - All I Want Is the U2 lithograph...I mean....You

Disclaimer: subliminal messages may cause sudden urge to purchase this rare U2 collector's item. Potential buyers shouldn't purchase the U2 lithograph if they intend to maintain full use of all their internal organs, including proper lung and urinary tract functions. Do not buy the U2 lithograph if you are nursing or pregnant, or if you are thinking of becoming pregnant.

Disclaimer's disclaimer: all the above statements are false, except for the bit about the subliminal messages. That part's true....!

I Want a Blind, Pedophiliac Hippopotamus for Christmas!

2005-12-14T10:09:00.000-06:00

After posting the picture that links to that Hippo song last night on the blog, I had a hard time getting to sleep. I mean, something just wasn't sitting right with me, and I couldn't figure it out.... that is, until I came back today and looked at the post again.

WHAT'S WRONG WITH THIS PICTURE?!!

Let's break it down and examine the possible theories:

Exhibit A:
First off, why is the hippo wearing sunglasses? And sunglasses that don't even fit him properly, I might add. The only thing I can deduce from this is that he is blind. Clearly, if he had relatively good vision, he would have at least found a pair of sunglasses that look good on him. Is this what the children of America want, is a blind beast that could trample them at any second without warning? Secondly, why is the hippo smoking a candy cane? Is it because he is blind, and believes the confection to be some sort of illegal substance that just happens to taste pepperminty because he just finished downing a bottle of Peppermint Schnapp's?

Exhibit B:
But herein lies the paradoxical evidence that contradicts my blind theory, rather supporting my hypothesis that this hippo has pedophiliac tendancies - what's he doing with the candy cane?! Is it just me, or is he trying to lift up that little girl's skirt for a peek?

Could he really be blind, and just regrettably clumsy? Or could he simply be faking is vision loss to enable his pedophile ways? Or could he be both? That is not for me to decide. You have the evidence now, you can draw your own conclusions.

Exhibit C:
Clearly, this little girl is frightened and attempting to run away. And rightly so - the "blind", pedophiliac hippopotamus is a menace to society. Obviously this little girl has been naughty all year, if this is the breed Santa chose to honour her Christmas wish of a hippopotamus with!

The moral of the story, kids - stick with Barbie Dolls and World Peace on your lists to Santa. Because even if you've been bad all year, he really can't screw you over with wishes like that!

Currently playing: Queen - The Show Must Go On

The symptoms of withdrawal are beginning to subside...

2005-12-13T23:46:00.000-06:00

After nearly 4'ish days sans internet at home, we're finally back online! Whew!

Guess we can't just chuck those bills in the garbage anymore when they arrive in the mail...

Either that, or we have to stop renovating our basement.

So OK to the latter! Well, we're VIRTUALLY finished, anyways! We moved our office (computers, desks, etc) from the main floor to our NEW office room in the NEW basement! And I'll be danged if it don't look s'danged good!

Frame - check.
Drywall - check.
Paint - check.
Furniture - check.
Carpet - check.
Air hockey table - check.
And most importantly, internet - check.

The urge I once had to burn this basement down is but a faint memory. 7 months is a long time to be living in chaos, that's practically half of our entire life in this house! But at the same time, 7 months to completely build a basement that's pretty bitchin' is pretty cool!

So, all I want for Christmas is some baseboards to finish 'er off!

And sleep......
Currently playing: Gayla Peevey - I Want a Hippopotamus for Christmas

Click on the picture to see how I've managed to occupy my time without the net the past few days! (and turn up the speakers!)

Goodbye, holidays!

2005-12-10T05:49:00.000-06:00

Well, after 2 weeks of going on my own schedule; relaxing, sleeping in, Christmas shopping/decorating, playing with my niece Alexis - the fun otherwise known as "holidays" has officially come to an end for this year.

Last night Dono had to set the alarm for 5am this morning, to get me up and ready for my 10-hr shift (0700-1700), a delightful way to welcome me back into the routine! Unfortunately, I was so excited to start up my blog last night, that, I have to admit, I couldn't get to sleep until well after 11:30pm! Visions of "the next posting" danced in my head!

So, needless to say, due to my tomfoolery resulting in a sheer lack of sleep, this is how I'm feeling this morning:

Goodbye holidays! See you next year!

Currently playing: U2 - Baby, Please Come Home

ps. Might I just add that, after only 2 postings, I can see why my husband is addicted to blogging. Now I feel bad for making fun of him! Aaaaaand I'm going to be late for work today... aaaaand cue cheater parking!

Well, everyone else is doing it...

2005-12-09T21:29:00.000-06:00

Making fun of my husband for having a blog was something I didn't do to cause him harm; it was simply my way of showing a "healthy bout of envy" for his courage in exploring the new hype that "all the kids" are in to. And man, I really started feeling my age! I'm turning into an old 27 year old! But as time passed, I really became proud of him, and found joy in his weekly postings - and often found myself at a loss when there were no new postings to be discovered.

His postings are witty; downright funny is more like it. They act as a beacon in an otherwise dark and looming world of the uncertainty and underestimated realm of cyberspace.

And so, I, too, have decided to enter the blogship arena!

Here is my first foray into this well-chartered territory, well-chartered thanks to my husband's beacon of hope!

Now, in true Yaciuk-style...

Currently playing: Jet - Are You Gonna Be My Girl