Day 9965 1/2: the girlie-girl side of me...

I had lunch with my mom today. She asked me what was new in my life and I told her about onsighting the 5.10a. Which, as you can probably guess, launched her into the climbing-is-a-man-sport-and-you're-so-unladylike speech. And of course, being who I am and still insecure about the "new" me, I've spent the afternoon agonizing over my supposed unfeminine side and trying to figure out if I was really as unladylike as she says I am... hence endless streams of email to Triscuit and Lawrence, and this...

Things I do that are so girlie-girl that I *blush* whenever I admit to doing them:

1. I drink tea and coffee with my pinkie sticking out except when the mug is too heavy, then I have to use both hands
2. I love to cook, and I do it quite well
3. I actually love the colour pink and when I see roses in the perfect shade, I can't resist buying myself 2 dozen of them
4. I can eat curry crab daintily with only my thumbs and the first two fingers on each hand and NEVER make a mess
5. I love pedicures... my toenails are always painted. Just the other day, I turned the house upside down because I couldn't find the perfect shade of red and had to settle for silver. (Note to self... must go to MAC and buy new bottle of red...)
6. I used to love manicures and had perfect long nails... until I started dragonboating and climbing and figured out that it wasn't worth it
7. I shave my legs every day. I tweeze and/or pluck at least every other day
8. I would be an interior decorator if I had the patience, time and money to finish all the courses and start a new career...
9. When I used to spend all my money at Chapters, it was on books with covers that you had to hide from your "boy" roommates...except from ICBBQ who refuses to admit to borrowing them, but we all know he did... and ewww... get you mind out of the gutter... only clean, wholesome Harlequins... no smut... it's all about the stories, folks...
10. I actually love going to the ballet. My all-time favourite is Giselle
11. I only just learned the basic rules of football this year
12. I only just learned the basic rules of hockey two years ago
13. I like wearing my "sexy" underwear even though I know no one's gonna see it
14. I still expect a guy to hold a door open for me, but I love it whenever he opens and closes the car door for me.
15. I still scream whenever I have to kill a spider... at least I don't cry anymore
16. I still cry whenever I have to kill an earwig *shudder*
17. I'll never be able to kill a cockroach... thank goodness I've never seen one in real life running around
18. All sorrows and sadness are cured by a litre of Hagen Daaz... the chocolatier, the fattier, the better...
19. I can never finish a small burrito even though I swear I try really hard every time. I only finished a quarter of one on Monday and the guy felt so bad that he refused to charge me for it :(
20. I sleep with a pink teddy bear
21. I *blush* and giggle whenever someone gives me a compliment about how I look
22. I've lusted after a pair of sandals before and went back to the store every week to look at them until they went on sale...and then I bought them
23. It took me three months and 4 mis-purchases to find the absolutely perfect shade of pink nail polish... I think I called my sister from the store to tell her
24. I cry at the movies... I cry during commercials... I cry at weddings
25. I like attention... lots of it :)

Day 9965: UT vs. the admittedly better H2Oloo...

Top 'o the morning to ya... Happy St. Paddy's Day. Anyone want to go for green beer today?

Yoink. I admit it. I have never been to a Waterloo football game. I have never professed undying loyalty or love for my alma mater. I have never even made a voluntary donation since they tried to imposed the involuntary donation of $75 that I kept "forgetting" to recover. Yet, for some strange reason, I feel compelled to defend My school against the dastardly beings of UT who insist their's is the better school. Yeah, right. As if... Waterloo vs. Scarborough campus? There is no comparison. Waterloo all the way baby.

I mean who wouldn't love H20loo. The green, green fields (of duck crap), the fresh, fresh farm country air (that smells like pig poops), the funky a$$ retro buildings that one could get lost in and not find a way out until well after graduation... Ahhhh... that was the life. And I miss it. I miss the peaceful idealic lifestyle, and I miss hanging out on the lawn with my friends, taking off to go to the occassional class and then coming back to take my place on the grass while someone else goes to class...

...and to think. I almost went to McMaster...

Day 9964: It doesn't take much...

...to make me happy... :)

...pink roses...
...strawberry cheesecake...
...blue microfibre shorts...
...onsighting a 5.10a...
...almost cleaning a 5.10b...
...sleeping in and being late for work...
...grape bubblegum...
...funny voicemails telling me to breathe in, breathe out and that life does get better eventually...
...new biner...
...a favourite song on the radio...
...lots and lots and lots of coffee...
...lying in bed with a cute and cuddly...
...pb&j's on stale rye bread...

...it's all good... I feel better today. :)

Spoon vs. Fork

Vote time... Which do you think will inflict more pain on a power-hungry-know-nothing-glorified-bookkeeper???

I say SPOON!

SING WITH ME!!!! (to the tune of Camptown Races)

anal accountants piss me off...
doo-dah... doo-dah...
anal accountants piss me off...
doo-dah, doo-dah, day...

all of the #$@#% day...
all of the #$@#% day...
anal accountants piss me off...
one day I'm gonna make them pay.

Muuwwaaaaahahahahahahahahaha....... *grimace*

Day 9963: Distance 20166

I've never really liked anything about Chinese people that was specifically designed for a non-asian audience. I once slammed a short story in an OAC English Writing class because it talked about a "jook-sing's" experience in HK that I thought was unrealistic and whiny. Not that it was badly written, but because the subject matter was overdone... by me. Movies, books, stories or whatnot, the subject has never appealed to me. Perhaps because I've "worked" so long and hard to avoid most things asian (except food), that whenever it creeps into the mainstream, it just bugs the hell out of me and makes me realize that I've lost touch with my heritage. Not that I've ever really been in touch with my heritage anyway, since apart from the occasional dinner, it was never really emphasized in my immediate family. The cousins... welll... that's another story altogether.

This weekend, a few of us went to the Tarragon Theatre to see China Doll by Marjorie Chan. Very brief synopsis, it deals with a Chinese girl's struggle with old traditions and new ideas (i.e. Ibsen's A Doll's House) and ultimately ends with her leaving all responsibilities behind in search of a better life. Don't worry if you haven't seen it, I haven't really spoiled the ending... the run ended yesterday, anyway. Was it a good play, you ask? Nothing like Criminals in Love, but it was decent. The first act was interesting and actually fairly good, the second act was disturbing and disjointed. The acting was so-so, but that's never really made a helluva lot of difference to me anyway. It's all about the story, baby.

The tradition of feet binding was central to the play, as was the character of the over-bearing-yet-well-meaning grandmother who strives to give her granddaughter a better life even though it means almost selling her to the highest bidder. I've never had a problem with feet binding before. I accept it as a tradition. Since it was only just outlawed in the early 20th century, it probably means that it's still actively practiced in rural parts of China. No big deal so long as I don't have to do it. Actually, I've read articles about non-asian women who are practicing it because of it's sexual connotations. Icky... but to each their own.

What I don't like, no matter how realistic it may be, was the scene where the girl's baby toe falls off, and she's either so delirious with her situation-imposed confinement or high, that she giggles like a school girl and starts talking about how she used to believe that people grew from seeds out of their baby toes... yucky, yucky, yucky... I don't want to hear about body parts falling off. That just offends my tender sensibilities - as does the scene where the shopkeeper has an orgasm because the girl's tiny lotus feet are soooo beautiful. Icky, icky, icky. Gross, gross, gross.

But what the play did make me think about was tradition and responsibility, and how that hasn't changed no matter what century it is. We are all still bound by old traditions, and our upbringing has given us a sense of responsibility that can occasionally be described as "burdening." It matters not that we're not in a village in China and we have to become the second-wife of the second-son so that grandmother is taken care off. Rather, we're in a big city in Canada, and we have to prostrate ourselves before the career gods so that eventually, when the time comes, the parents and the grandparents will be taken care of. And in the case of the play, the girl's marriagability was determined by her ability to sew the perfect lotus shoes, our hire-ability is determined by our ability to prove ourselves to the highest bidder. It's all the same. No matter the century, there is still only limited amounts of free-choice.

This time of year, patience wears thin and tempers flare. I find myself wanting more and more to neglect responsiblity, to say "to hell with it all" and go off on a jaunt around the world on borrowed time and borrowed money. But I can't, because I have obligations. Obligations to family, obligations to friends, obligations to myself. And because I have these obligations, my patience wears thin and my temper flares... as I get delirious because of my situation-imposed confinement. A month ago, two weeks ago even, I would have said that I would do anything for a friend (depending on who, and depending on what). Now, I'm not so sure. There are some people that I would go to hell and back for. And some people who are just not worth it. Perhaps distance is a good thing. See y'all after busy season.

Day 9961: Little office politics

Can't avoid it. Office politics exists. Such is fact. You either deal with it or you move on. No amount of phone throwing or white board breaking is going to make the irritation disappear. No matter how many phones you break or how hard you hit a wall, it just doesn't happen.

Sometimes it's the big things. Change in office policy, for example, which makes the past year's work obsolete and requires months of re-programming. Or something even harsher like the CEO who doesn't watch your back and throws you to the wolves to save his own ass. And sometimes it's the little things...like ordering lunch.

Big contentious issue during busy season at is the daily ordering of dinners and the Saturday lunches. It's not a hard process. Could be, but shouldn't be. Simple, really - just post a piece of paper on the wall indicating today's delivery person of choice and 3 menu options and have people check off what they want to eat. No check, no eat. Simple. Easy. Or so you'd think.

Instead, it turned into an all out war last year between the support staff and a couple of the bp staff. Every night someone would come around asking if you wanted to order dinner. Every night, inevitably, someone would ask what was for dinner. Only natural seeing as how if you don't feel like eating what they're ordering, you shouldn't have to commit. And the order-taker would have a fit over being asked 20 times what's for dinner. Silly.

So it's turned into a dictatorship. Today's lunch was Memories of Japan terayaki chicken. No choices, no options, nothing save eat or starve. My choice - I was starving, so I chose to eat.

Day 9959: "23" forever

As promised, today's blog topic was chosen by clicker # 500... ICBBQ... who requested a blog on getting old and relationships. Hopefully, I will be able to do this justice... ahem... since I don't have much experience with either one of those topics... ahem... *nudge, nudge, wink, wink*

I've actually been thinking about the age factor since Tuesday. Tuesday was dear Bo's "23rd" birthday... "23rd" for the "4th" time. No big revelations, dear, we all know how old you really are, seeing as how most of us are around the same age, if not slightly older.

I very rarely think about age. It's one of those things that just happen to a person whether or not they want it to. One day we were 10, thinking that we'd never grow up. Next thing we know, we're officially "teenagers." In a blink of an eye we became "legal" and then it tailspins when we hit thirty. Or so they say. But do the numbers really matter? I did not have a big epiphany the day I turned 21. Nothing happened when I turned 25, 26, or 27. Come to think of it, I don't even feel 27. I don't feel 25. I have no idea whatsoever what age I feel at the moment. All I know is that I'm happy and enjoying life regardless of how old I am.

Birthdays have always been somewhat anti-climaxic for me. The attention and the presents are great - who wouldn't love it?! But the day itself... nothing special - life goes on. I don't see it as getting another year older. I see it more as another day older. All semantics - there really is no difference. Day in, day out, it really is mostly the same.

That said, on Tuesday, I had a mini-crisis. An alarm on my biological clock that I forgot to hit snooze on. OMG, I'm turning 28 this year... that means that I'll be 30 in a mere short two years... which means a third of my life is over (assuming that I live to 90, even though I really don't want to)...which means... omg, omg, omg... *breathe, breathe, breathe*... I NEED TO GET MARRIED AND HAVE KIDS BEFORE I'M TOO OLLLLLLLLLLDDDDDDDDDD TO HAVE SEX!!!!!!!!!!!! lol. Talk about unreasonable fears. First of all, you can never be too old to have sex, and second, I'm not even sure that I want to have children. A dog is hard enough to take care of. Children must be a gazillion times worse.

But that brings us to today's lesson, boys and girls. On the runway to the big 3-0 myself, I find myself getting to know more and more people who have jumped the hump, passed the barrier so to speak. I have seen people agonize over their life choices and life decisions as if that one day in their lives marks some kind of milestone and that everything they had ever wanted to achieve in their lives must be aligned and ready to go. And more often then not, they are still lost like the rest of us who haven't reached that pinnacle age. Hitting 30 just makes them think that they are running out of time, and that some self-imposed deadline has yet to be met. And so they stress.

I think we all compare ourselves to our parents. It's only logical seeing as how they play a large part in our lives and once formed the basis for all our thoughts and beliefs (until we grew old enough to have our own opinions). In our parents' generations, kids were popped out before the 30's, little tiny houses were bought and traded up when they got too small... everything was perfect and idealistic. You worked your 9 - 5, came home, took care of the kids, and made merry when they went to bed...if you even had the energy left to make merry at all. That was life.

But today, it's different. Everyone has a need to be self-sufficient. Women want careers because they don't want to rely on the wishy-washiness of men. And in doing so, things get pushed to the side. Relationships, marriage, children... there's time for that later, we tell ourselves... until we hit 30, and think, where the hell did the time go? Then we stress. Stress that we aren't in the idealistic long-term relationship where we have to date the boy for 3 years, married for 2 years, then try to have kids. Stress that the person we are currently seeing may not be the "one". That he leaves the toilet seat up, so that when you're trying to be considerate by NOT turning on the lights when you stumble to the bathroom for your middle-of-the-night-pee you fall butt first into the toilet...and if you're super lucky, he remembered to flush...(that... my friends, is NOT a fun experience). And for some, it worries us that we have yet to even find the boy to leave the silly toilet seat up.

This past weekend, many an hour on the marathon drive to VT was spent debating the merits of speed dating and internet dating. Would you, could you, should you??? I wouldn't, I couldn't, but I probably should. Questions abound, it still resulted in personal preference. To me, meeting someone with the expectation of potential soulmate-dom is wrong. First impressions are usually visual, hence if someone I just met were to come up to me and profess undying love, I'd hesitate more than a moment before I'd even say that I would think about it. I'd like to know that I appeal to someone more than just sexually, and that I click on some kind of an intellectual or friendship level before we start dating. Hence, I prefer to be friends with the person first. However, on the flip side, friendship first poses a whole set of new expectations and another set of dilemmas... could you, should you? Risky, you say... you don't want to lose a friendship, so probably not and hope the feelings go away. But maybe some risks are worth it and even if it doesn't work out, you'll be better friends because of it.

We're all getting older, each one of us, every day. Do the numbers really count? Nope. Does it matter that whatever relationship we're currently in doesn't last forever? Nope. Life has no guarantees. Defining a relationship as "committed" does not prevent one party from cheating on the other, if that is what he/she so desires. No relationship, even marriage is guaranteed to last forever. What matters most is that you go to bed each night thinking... did I have fun today... and if you did, then it was a good day.

Yesterday was a good day. :)

Day 9958: that blessed, blessed, blessed cup of joe

I've discovered that when I am in a super bitchy mood, I can be super bitchy. Not on purpose, of course. No one is ever bitchy on purpose. Wait, I take that back... I have known some people to be bitchy on purpose, but never you mind them - they don't matter. They're just scums of the earth... no joke.

There was no rhyme or reason behind yesterday's bitchiness. It was more like an I'm-exhausted-beyond-belief-and-stressed-out-over-anal-retentive-accountants-among-other-things kind of day - work hazard, I guess, since I'm surrounded by accountants day after day. Days like yesterday should be avoided by all. People should go out of their way to hide from me. I definitely go out of my way to not see people. It was a flushing kind of day*... or in some people's case, a cell phone-throwing kind of day. I scared my junior. I snapped at my manager, and I told someone to get the hell out of my office and never come back.

It was a day of impotent rage and frustration. Not with other people, but with myself. Myself for allowing certain situations to happen and not being able to control the results. Myself for forgetting first and foremost the effort and work I had put into getting where I was, and then trying to ride the momentum instead of putting more effort into getting to a place where I should be. Myself for allowing the limitations that my body sets upon me to get to me - my mind wants to do something, but my body won't allow me to do it... which basically means that my body can do it, my mind just hasn't figured out how.

All attempts at assisted suicide where emphatically denied. Lawrence wouldn't shoot me, Ken wouldn't run over me with a truck, and Heidi-Ho wouldn't throw me out the window or stab me with a letter opener. What kind of friends are those??? (...lol... I love them really... they all listened to me bitch and complain throughout the entire day...thanks guys)

And so I tried to deal with it. Really, what I wanted to do was storm out of the office and regather myself in a land far, far away, but seeing as how I work for a 9-5:30 with no real hope of flex time, I did the only other thing I could do... I ate. And ate. And ate. A package of Kraft Easy Mac, followed by a bag of Dorritos, a bag of Ms. Vicky's Sea-Salt-and-Vinegar, a spicy pepperette, and a Ricky-D's Maple Walnut ice-cream bar...and then salmon sushi. Did it work, you ask??? Hell no. But I got a stomach ache and that made my bitchiness even worse. At the end of the day, bitchiness won out, and I lost. It was a good thing I was home by myself last night... no telling what could have happened or who would have been murdered... lol... Good thing, too, that all phone conversations lasted below 20 seconds. Wouldn't have wanted to say anything that I'd regret later.

Today, I woke up in a mood not unlike yesterday's. I had an early morning meeting, snapped at everyone under the sun, and gave everyone the evil eye. But then I had a cuppa java... the blessed blessed cup of joe... which brought everything into perspective and made everything feel better. Come to think about it, I didn't have my daily cup of coffee yesterday. Hmmmmm... how strange... maybe that's the real cure for bitchiness...

*a flushing kind of day - termed in 2000 on a day much like yesterday where it was believed that the only feasible method of escape was to flush one's self down the toilet head first

PS... my 500th hit (kinda pathetic, I know, but hey, who's counting?!?) is coming up real soon... last I checked, it was at 493... if you're my 500th hit, you get the pick my blog topic for tomorrow (I'm borrowing this idea from Smitten's site). I promise to be brutally honest (within some personal boundaries)... and ICBBQ... refreshing constantly doesn't work. :o)

Day 9957: Ticking time-bomb

For the moment, I've run out of things to blog about. Rather, my brain refuses to work. Check back in a couple of days. Maybe I'll have thought of something to say by then.

Day 9956: All or nothing

Eleven hours on the road Friday night. Pouring rain Saturday morning. Brown dirt spots carved out of the snow by the slope groomers that look like long strips of poop all over the hill. Ice patches as big as tractor trailers. Idiot beginner snowboarders running people over… all in all… it was a good weekend. I have the bruises to prove it.

T’was a great weekend that I had, and hopefully that everyone else had. Sunday made up for all the crap and hell that went on Friday and Saturday. It was T-shirt warm. The sun was shining. There was freshly fallen snow, and the jumps were grand with perfect soft landings. Great jump pictures – some worthy of Transworld magazine (yes, I am patting myself on the back… as the photographer, and not the jumper). Definitely well worth the trouble of organizing the trip.

That said, I will never organize another trip again. All or nothing… that’s the way it goes, baby.

Day 9951: The sound of silence

So, I've been stuck for the past three days in a dingy, dusty warehouse with no real company other than my own. No phones, no email... nothing except me talking to me... I think I'm tired of hearing the sound of my own voice.

Day 9946: Tennis slut

Tennis slut... you know who you are... I don't even have to name names. People already know. Yeah, you know I'm talking about you... you two-timing bum. You... you... you... you *sob* cheated on me... *wahhhhhhh*...

Ok, I'm not the world's best tennis player. I never claimed to be even a good tennis player, so I was pretty thrilled when ICBBQ asked me to be his regular tennis player. Maybe thrilled is a "minor" exaggeration... with "minor" being a "minor" sarcasm. But it was cool to be asked even though ever since he asked, we have yet to play as official "tennis partners." Let's ponder why - the first tennis game after he asked, I wasn't feeling well (a girl's gotta do what a girl's gotta do... and sometimes... tennis just ain't it). The second tennis game after he asked, he made arrangements to play with ANOTHER GIRL!!! I didn't even find out about the game until 2am the morning of. How rude!!!

Actually. It doesn't really bother me. I just like bugging him about it. In reality though, this whole tennis situation has made me think about something that Unsanitary Man said about trading up... just as ICBBQ is attempting to trade up for a "better" tennis partner, because he oh-so-badly wants to win. We were talking about relationships, and he was saying how people go from one relationship to another because they wanted to "trade up" for a better person. I disagreed with him, because I believe that people go from one relationship to another because they want a better fit. The person may not necessarily be a better person on a comparative scale, but may be a better person for me. It's not about whether the guy is better looking, or whether the guy makes more money and is generally better according to the survival of the fittest theory. It's more the compatability issue. Sure, perhaps unconciously women want to have the good provider, have the genetically superior children, but really, I think we just want someone that we can get along with. A friend to lean on, and friend to have in bed or out of bed, someone that needs us just as much as we need them. So, it's not really "trading up", it's more "trading in"...

*********
NOTE: ABOVE POST WRITTEN BEFORE I RECEIVED THESE EMAILS...

Tuxedo Sam: In your valiant effort to usurp the reigning mixed doubles champions, you have managed to piss off two of your closest friends. I feel sorry for you, man.

ICBBQ: now you can see how much I hate you guys and how badly I want to beat you guys. I am willing to lose all my friends.

THAT'S IT ICBBQ!!!!!! Consider yourself challenged. I will cream you and beat you to a pulp the next time we play. If I can't beat you at the game, I will use my non-emotionally-attached-brand-spanking-new racquet to beat you over the head. BRING IT ON, DUDE! BRING IT ON!!!

Day 9945: 101 things you never thought you wanted to know...

1. My favourite pair of underwear is red. I wore them inside out last night ‘cuz I wasn’t paying attention… how sexy is that? …oops… ;oP
2. I have an emotional attachment to my 15 year old tennis racquet and refuse to play with the one I bought two years ago and only got strung this past summer
3. My favourite pair of socks is blue
4. I really do prefer skiing to snowboarding
5. I hate eating with mismatched chopsticks. Would rather not eat
6. I don’t know anything about politics and really could care less
7. I’m a news junkie, but only weird news and city news (but nothing political)
8. I read my horoscope everyday…but forget it right after I read it
9. My dog likes the song “Mommy’s Gonna Buy You a Mockingbird” and she doesn’t care if I make up the words
10. My uncle-or-something is the Governor of Washington state
11. The lyrics of all songs escape me. I just make them up as I sing along
12. My favourite flowers are pink roses, second favourite blue orchids…purple ones are cool too
13. My handwriting changes drastically depending on my mood
14. I’ve started writing at least 4 different books, none of which I’ve gone more than 10 pages into
15. Procrastination is a lifestyle
16. I pick up rocks from special places and keep them in my pocket until I lose them
17. I do like Country Music
18. I have no idea the difference between hiphop, techno, house and whatever is not country
19. First kiss on lips ever was by a partner in my firm… friendly, congratulations-for-not- sucking-at-golf kind of kiss… gross - that kiss doesn’t count…
20. First real kiss 2 months later…not by partner in my firm… not gross…
21. Have only kissed one guy. Have never kissed a girl – never wanted to, don’t think I’ll ever want to
22. I miss my sister. But I don’t have anything to say when I call her
23. I call my mom every day, but I don’t have anything to say when I call her
24. A few years ago I believed my destiny was in England. Kept getting the urge to fly over, never did – always regretted it
25. I would do anything for family, and almost anything for a friend, but depends on who and depends on what
26. I don’t really hate my job, I just bitch about it. I actually like it when it challenges me – too bad that doesn’t happen
27. I once worked as a bus counter and counted the number of people getting on and off the bus, got horribly carsick and never showed up for work again
28. Hate bell peppers – hate them, hate them, hate them
29. I’m a sucker for teeny-bopper movies and most children’s movies
30. Smoking is a filthy nasty disgusting habit. Have never smoked a cigarette.
31. I can draw almost anything so long as I’m copying it and not doing it from memory (or real life)
32. I’m too chicken to ride a motorcycle, but I want to be AM a biker chick
33. Only know one Prince song – Purple Rain - no real desire to know any more
34. Only know one George Michael song, but I forget the name of it
35. I agree with people who say that Asian women can’t drive – except for me
36. I go out of my way to make people happy – that said, I hate doing things for people because they tell me I have to do it. (See blog on responsibility)
37. Hate fake people
38. Bumped into Michael Burgess in my reception room last year – forgot who he was until three hours later – damn… I hate name dropping… who really cares if I don’t even care…
39. My dog’s leg reminds me of a chicken leg. Sometimes I want to bite it, but then she’ll bite back
40. Addicted to email
41. Addicted to blogging
42. Am completely terrified of computers if it’s not about emailing or surfing
43. Addicted to coffee – but only 2 cups per day max
44. I knit, but only when I want to make something for someone – I don’t wear what I knit. Except the scarf I knit for my sister… I’ve been wearing it…your fault baby for not bringing it to Texas with you
45. I can do the splits – both ways if I stretch first… am very, very, very flexible, but don’t understand why that turns guys on
46. I only like chocolate at certain times of the month
47. Basketball is not a sport – but neither is skiing or snowboarding unless you’re seriously training for something
48. Triscuits really are my favourite crackers – all jokes aside
49. My favourite Gatorade is blue, yellow is a really close second – I have a can of orange mix to give away if anyone wants it
50. I love watching hockey, but I have no clue who the players are
51. I like football – it’s like chess, but it moves a little faster
52. I have an insane fear of sharks, but I touched one when I was in Vegas and almost gave my sister a heart attack
53. I used to spend thousands of dollars on books a year. In the past year, I’m lucky if I’ve spent $300, and of that, the majority was for b-day presents
54. I feel myself getting stoopider by the day
55. I have no fingerprints on the tip of the middle finger on my left hand
56. I have three major scars – my shin, my head, and my shoulder – of which only the shoulder one is still visible
57. I once burned the inside of my wrist with a hot glue gun – people thought I had the bandages on because I tried to kill myself
58. Only bone I’ve broken was a toe on my 14th b-day. No x-rays. Knew it was broken cuz I could take it and turn it all the way around
59. I am a planner. I hate non-commitments. I hate when people bail
60. I hate when I don’t have any plans. Even down time has to be planned
61. That said, I really am trying to be spontaneous – I went to Ham on a whim, didn’t I?
62. I don’t deal well with change
63. I hate weddings
64. I really want to cut my hair, but I promised that I wouldn’t – but I went and cut it last night anyway…s’okay we had an arrangement
65. I once knew how to read Biblical Hebrew, but only if it was about Benjamin and sheep and cows
66. Can’t stand going to the dentist. Will dread it for the entire week before.
67. Have never been south of the equator, but have visited most of the continents above the equator
68. I can cook, and cook well, but I hate cooking for just myself so I don’t cook
69. I f.u.’d my wrist last night when I was climbing. BOO!!!
70. I’ve climbed a 5.10b, but was two moves off of finishing a 5.10c. That said, at the moment, I’ve regressed back to the 5.8’s, but clean climbs, though.
71. I have the bestestest sister in the world – she tried to draw me…aw shucks…
72. I’m only ticklish in some places
73. My car has a name … it’s JP
74. I want to get married one day, but only once
75. I’m not sure if I want children even though I know that I’d be a fantastic mom
76. My favourite breakfast after a night of drinking is scrambled eggs and sausage
77. I never know what I want at a bar – most of the time I get someone to order something for me
78. Recently, though, it’s been Amaretto Cokes cuz they taste like Cherry Cokes
79. I’ve only puked four times ‘cuz I was drunk – tax party, boat party, Binny’s b-day party, and Linda’s b-day bar thingy which turned into an I-hate-boys night
80. Chuck E. Cheese’s is my happy place
81. So are La Jolla, St. Malo, and this tiny little rock outcropping near the boat transfer station at the Severn River
82. I have peed in the woods, but have never pooped in the woods… I’ve also done something else in the woods, but let’s not talk about it
83. I’ve snowboarded/skied more this year than the past 5 years combined
84. I rock on skis. Try to keep up – I dare you. And no, I’m not just being cocky
85. Most people either love me or think I’m super bitch. I prefer if they love me, but sometimes bitchy gets things done
86. I was once a whale
87. My dad is my role model. He was virtually perfect
88. He died when I was 18. He dropped dead in front of me, and I have never forgiven myself for making him go to fencing class with me that night
89. Have since sworn, that I would never make anyone do anything that they didn’t want to do
90. My mom got remarried 6 years later. I hated her first “boyfriend” and would call during their dates. Not really on purpose, but I don’t regret doing it either
91. My left hip clicks when I walk.
92. I never planned to live past 45.
93. I think I’m going to die in a plane crash. But I’m not afraid of flying
94. I have an amazing sense of direction in any city except for Ottawa
95. I have great friends
96. I have the world’s best family, but only on my mother’s side
97. I can type almost as fast with one hand as I can with two hands… which is pretty darned fast… I max out at 116wpm though. You should see me with a calculator. I’ve wowed clients before
98. I cannot spell the word “weird”. Except this time for some reason. That’s wierd.
99. I call everyone Babe, Dude, Girlie-girl, or Chickie because I’m not good with names, and it’s better than calling someone by the wrong name. But if I ever call you a cutie or a sweetie, that means I mean it. Though I usually mean Babe too.
100. I am lost without my cell phone.
101. If you made it this far, you kick ass!!

:>

Day 9944: Responsibility

I don't think I'd be patting myself on the back if I said that I was a nice person... or that I'm a pretty darned nice person. I will go out of my way to do things for people. Will go out of my way to make people around me happy. But I really don't like it when people try to take advantage of my "nice-ness" or when people try to order me to do something. Everyone has responsibilities. Everyone does things because they feel obliged to. But sometimes I just don't feel like it, and I don't want to. Not that I'm not nice - but I'd rather do something because I want to, rather than because I have to. But I would still do it anyway.

I visited my grandparents on my dad's side this weekend. In all fairness, I rarely see them and I should be seeing them a lot more than I actually do. Because they are blood, and because they are my responsibility. Though my grandmother does try and make the effort to keep in touch, it is difficult as she refuses to call my cell phone. Really, I don't have the same affinity with that side of the family as I do with my mother's side. Maybe because they consciously try to erase us from their memories and refuse to admit our existence unless they want something from us...hmmm... example... my cousin got married, we weren't invited to the wedding until less than a month before... my cousin had a baby... we weren't even told. There's only so much ignoring a girl can take before she, herself, decides that she no longer has a connection to that side of the family. Maybe somewhere deep, deep, deep down there is some emotional feelings, but it's too hidden to try to dig out and explore, and really, honestly, I'm not sure its anything more than a feeling of responsibility and maybe a little of sadness that my father's brothers are too self centered to take care of anyone besides themselves.

Had it been my maternal grandmother that made the request, I would not have been able to deny her. Face it, I went out with SUG for her. There's nothing that I wouldn't do for anyone on my mother's side. Nothing (except going out with SUG). But my grandmother (on my dad's side)... well... it was a lot easier to say "no", or to say "maybe". Perhaps it was the way she asked, or rather ordered. She basically came out and said, "You're old enough now, you can do things. I'm going to call you and get you to come over to help me..." Not too bad though... but what I heard was "You're at my beck and call, because your work is now really close to me, and it's your duty to do things for me." And because it felt like I was being ordered to do something, I resisted and told her that I would come over during lunch when I'm in the office, but I won't come after work. Truth be told, I don't want to spend my evenings at her apartment. I'd rather be in a position where I have limited time to spend there. I don't like the risk of having to see one of my uncles, and worse yet - what if there's a conspiracy to set me up with someone else... for shame.

At the end of the day, if she calls, I will go. But I won't want to, and I won't like it. I'll do it because I have to, because I feel obliged to, but I would rather go because I want to. Because I care to.

Day 9943: Toeing the line

I had myself a little adventure this weekend. The sky was blue, the sun was shining, the non-frozen birds were probably singing somewhere, and the world was just too happy feeling to be stuck inside catching up on work. And so I didn't. Instead, I ended up driving down to the Ham to hang out with Triscuit and friends (let's call them Web and Nan). Initial plan was to go skating at some pond with some name that reminds me of Battery Park. But Web and Nan who got there first said that the ice had melted and frozen over again, but was really way too rough to skate - major bummer as I was really looking forward to my powerskating lesson so that I could learn how to skate better. And soooo, I spent a really very sunny afternoon driving around Ham, following Triscuit's car as we drove from downtown to who-knows-where, and back to Hess St. while doing a little fly-by sight seeing. Ended up grabbing a drink, grabbing din-din, and then grabbing a movie... details not important, but really, it was a very merry evening.

So, onto the topic for today - toeing the line. Not quite sure if toeing the line is the right subject heading, but somehow "please-stop-making-out-in-front-of-me-cuz-i'm-a-prude-and-i-feel-really-kinda-weirded-out-right-now" doesn't feel like an appropriate title either. But, I think I made my point. Really, I'm exaggerating. Web and Nan were only a tad demonstrative. And yup, Ms. Prude here, wasn't comfortable watching it, tried to keep my distance and yeah, averted my eyes a couple of times. Ummm... public displays of affection... during dinner... icky.... It's one thing to sit close to each other, and... ahem...maybe keep a hand on his/her leg or hold hands or something, but kissing because she has to leave to go potty, and playing with his hair constantly, that's a little much...for me. Dunno how Triscuit feels...maybe he's used to it. Afterall, Web's his friend. But... I admit it... I am a prude... and ok for the record, maybe I was a little itty bitty teensy weensy envious. Just a little. Dunno why.

But fact remains. Good friends, good food, and good conversation should be adequate dinner entertainment. Visual entertainment, unless it's live music or something, I can honestly do without.

On another note - if you're looking for a fun movie, go see 50 First Dates... really quite funny (except the sharks) and a decent ending. Not predictable, not really.

Oh, and I really must go grocery shopping. Having a turkey wrap for lunch today - quite delicious, really - whole wheat wrap, turkey, carrot shavings, cucumbers, mustard (no mayo), tomatoe, lettuce and black olives... yummm

Day 9940: Speed is your friend

You can learn a lot about life from snowboarding. I am not obsessed. Really.

Yesterday, I watched Lenny take his first run ever down the half-pipe. I was in awe that he was almost making it to the lip on every single pass. Sure, he's been boarding for awhile, and he's pretty comfortable in the park, but on a relative scale of things he was rocking it. He had his share of little spills, caught edges and butt slides, but every time, he picked himself up, dusted himself off and ended the run with an awesome 180 jump off the lip. Amazing. There are some of us who have been in the pipe dozens of times who can't nearly get as high on the wall as he did... and you know why - well... quite simply because we didn't want it bad enough.

I've learned some things over the past few years that I didn't know in school. Stuff I probably should have realized and come to terms with earlier, but for one reason or the other, I never got around to it. Maybe I'm a late bloomer (in more ways than one...), but hey, at least I finally got the message... before it hit me upside the head.

I realized that everything in life is about confidence, aggressiveness and the lack of fear. And that if you want something badly enough, you will do whatever it takes to get it. Take snowboarding. Lenny is confident, attacks the hill aggressively and shows no fear - even though earlier in the evening, he took a wipe in the park and landed hard on a rail and was in some serious pain. But it didn't stop him. Barely even slowed him down - no fear. But school, work and life - I didn't want to pass the UFE the first two times. Couldn't even care less. It was just a thing I had to do before I moved on to the supposed next step of my life (which has yet to begin, btw). Third time around, I wanted it. I wanted it bad enough that I could taste it, so badly that I could just picture myself passing and being over-the-moon-and-around-the-corner with happiness. And so I got it. The first year I tried to drop the weight, I didn't want it badly enough - couldn't do it. But the second time around, I wanted it more than anything else I had wanted before. And so I did it.

It's all about knowing what you want, wanting it badly enough, and then taking the steps to get it. Approach with confidence, aggressiveness and show no fear... it'll happen...

...now, if only I knew what I wanted... :oP

Day 9939: That thing you do...

You know that one thing that pisses me off. Well, you did it. And I'm pissed. Royally, royally pissed. I'm trying to be nice about it. I'm trying to be a good friend. But you pissed me off, and you're going to have to un-piss me. No ifs, ands or buts. I am majorly pissed, and I can't get over it. Maybe by tonight, I'll be over it. Maybe not. Maybe by tomorrow, I'll be over it. Maybe not. Maybe when HELL FREEZES OVER I'll be over it. Then again, maybe not.

Yes, I know there is probably a good reason why. But I don't care. If you don't want to tell me and you don't want to talk about it there's nothing I can do about it except to get pissed off.

I HATE BEING BAILED ON!!!!

:( :( :((((((((((((((((((

...and while I'm in my venting stage... how come no one uses that little comment thingy??? I know you're out there... I can see you.... someone... anyone? *sniff* I feel so all alone... :( ~"no body knows..."

Day 9938: The little itty bitty things

It's funny how we can obsess over the tiniest, seemingly insignificant details in our lives. Things that really shouldn't make much of a difference in the big scheme of things, and that we should be capable of carrying on with or without it, but it does make a difference. It really, really does. Take stubble. Not beard stubble, but leg stubble.

Leg stubble to me is one of the ultimate grossest things. I've been known to shave daily during the summer in order to avoid the ickily prickily of leg stubble. Don't know why since it doesn't really make a difference - you can't really see it, and gosh-darned it... who's going to feel it, but I obsess over it until it's gone.

The other day, as I was driving down from the boonies of Bolton to go to the climbing gym, I reached down to scratch my leg. No big deal, right... until I felt my leg and remembered that in my morning rush, I had forgotten to shave my legs. HUGE PROBLEM. CANNOT go climbing with unshaven legs. That would be wrong on soooo many levels. Can't climb, can't climb... what to do???? Ahhhhh!!!!

In desperation, THE CALL was made... to LZ...heroine of the unshaven masses:

Me: (in desperate panic voice) When are you going home?
LZ: Dunno. Have some things I need to finish up.
Me: I neeeed your help. I'm going climbing and I haven't shaved my legs...I NEED TO SHAVE... When can you get home? Do you have an extra razor?
LZ: Call Donna. She'll help you.
Me: (whisper) I can't... this is sooo embarrassing. When can you get home?
LZ: Dunno. Have to finish up some stuff. If pick me up and give me a ride, I can probably leave soon.
Me:... I'm on my way. *click*

5 minutes later...
Me: Um. Where's your office? I forgot where you work.
LZ: hee hee... I forgot. I drove today. Meet you at my place in 15.

Needless to say, the day ended well, all legs were shaved, thanks to LZ, the heroine of the unshaven masses... THANKS BABE!!!!

I'm outta here! :) ... gotta pluck my eyebrows.

Day 9933: Over the moon and around the corner

I think purple orchids are my new favourite flowers. I'm schmiley today. Can't help wearing a silly funny grin. People must be wondering why I'm smiling to myself. Let them wonder.

:)

Day 9932: I Choo-Choo-Choo-Choose You!!

I would be remiss if I didn't blog about V-day. Afterall, EVERYONE has blogged about V-day... haven't they? Not that it matters or anything - I like to go at my own pace. If I want to sing Christmas carols in July, I have every right to do so... especially, if I'm singing White Christmas.

V-days in past years have been blah. Grade school was great - loads of cute little corny red and white paper Valentines, spicy cinnamon hearts, trinkets we gave our parents made with felt and white glue that we thought we oh-so-beautiful, cheap chocolate...the list continues. But the coolness of V-day stopped being so cool after grade 6, when all of a sudden, you realized that wait-a-second, the "will you be mine" cards that were supposed to come from guys just didn't come, and well, let's not linger on that thought any longer. High school wasn't much better... university wasn't much better than high school... and yeah, let's just say that the only flowers I've ever received for V-day was from my step-dad last year. What a cutie.

So eventually V-day became just another day. One that my brain analytically attacked and criticized as being a Hallmark holiday - a capitalist commercialization and distortion of human desire and emotion that reprogrammed our brains to believe that we needed to "celebrate" that special someone only on that one day a year... and not every day of the year. It was no wonder that the malls are filled with candies, flowers, chocolates and pink and white cards when people believe that they need to buy their way in. But now, I don't think it's true. Not completely at least. Sure the commercialization of the day is still wrong, but I think people need it. People are running around so much these days, that they take their loved ones for granted don't stop to think and appreciate them for what they are. People need V-day to remind them that love IS what makes the world go 'round. It is the basis for everything that we hold near and dear to our hearts.

This V-day feels different from the others. A little more special. More mellow and more relaxed because there just isn't that feeling of damn-I-need-to-go-find-a-boy. I'm happy, I love my friends, I love my family...I've got everything I need. :)

Karen, Wai-sum, Wai-e, Bo, Binny, Chi, Benifer, Ashish, Rosie, Mini, Linda, Greggie-poo, Triscuit... will y'alls be my Valentines? Love ya lots!

If I ask really nicely and say pretty please with a cherry on top, will someone run me over with my car so that I might die and be reincarnated as a slug???

Thanks.

Day 9931: Spoil me rotten

I think, if I could have anything right now, that would be for someone to spoil me. Spoil me rotten. Just for the day. Someone to make me little peanut butter and cheeze whiz crackers or little triangle peanute butter and jelly sandwiches without the icky crust, make me hot chocolate and read me comic books in bed. Just like when we were kids and we felt bummed out. Our moms would make us hot chocolate with those fake little crunchy marshmallows and bring us tray loads of goodies... and a new comic book or a new toy just because we were that cute and cuddly.

But really, I have no idea what I'm talking about, only that it seems so nice and idealistic when I read about it or when I see it on tv... you see, I don't think I've ever been spoiled - not like that. Sure, I've had my share of popcorn balls and funky strawberry milk and horlicks. But I want more... just for a day...

I want to be a princess. I want my every whim catered to...without me even knowing that it was exactly what I wanted. A long massage that leaves my toes tingling, a hot bubble bath drawn just for me, soft music playing in the background, someone to pick me up when the water gets cold, wrap a big warm towel around me and carry me back to bed where there will be more comic books, finger sandwiches, more hot chocolate and maybe a hot toddy or two, to share of course. Oh... and an ice-cream sundae after my long, long afternoon nap... Because I'm just that cute and cuddly.

Day 9930: Illogical arguments

Conclusion: there is no pleasing the parental units.

Every parent wants what is best for their child. Agreed. Every parent knows what's best for their child. Disagree. In many ways, yes, parents do give a wider perspective, a broader outlook, and years of experience to what they think is best for their child. On the other hand, occassionally their beliefs are blatantly one-sided and narrow minded and refuse to consider that there might be an alternative view point to the issue. It is times like these that one must realize that parents don't know everything, and it's better not to listen to them.

I grew up in a sheltered environment. A very loving one, a very priviledged one, but still very, very sheltered. We were not encouraged to have our own points of view. We were not encouraged to debate and formulate our own opinions on things. It was more of a you're-doing-this-because-we-said-so kind of upbringing. Not unlike many of the parent-child relationships of yore. No waves were made. No one pushed the envelope. Not really. There was no major rebelling or anything. Just existence. We were dummies that follow along because life's mapped out for them to the tiniest degree. And to some sense, we're still dummies. I'm still a dummy.

We go with the flow. We still don't make waves. We'd rather live "secret" lives and not share certain aspects of our lives with our parents because we don't want the hassle of the parent-child lecture - the nagging, the sense that we're disappointing the people that we respect the most and actually think very highly of. Regardless of how the relationship evolves and changes they will always be the parents, and as a child, we will always be searching for their approval. My mom and I became friends a few years back. It was not uncommon for me to take my problems to her and through some discussion, come to a conclusion that I was comfortable with. But recently, it changed. Since the sista departed for the Texan south, it's once again reverted back to the old parent-child relationship, where she feels that as a parent, I must automatically do whatever she wants me to do. She still thinks of me as her baby. She feels that she still needs to control every aspect of my life and has ordered me, in not so many words, to see her once a week. A point that I sorely disagree upon. I call her every day. I don't need to see her every day. I don't need to hear how she disapproves with my lifestyle...everyday.

I've come to realize though, that the "logical" arguments that they make are not very logical at all. A few minor examples...

Toot-toot: don't get a dog because then you'll stay home all the time to keep the dog company. And now that I actually have a life and go out more (instead of studying all the time, and watching television)... don't go out so much - stay home and keep the dog company.

Exercising: go out and exercise so that you can lose weight. And now that I'm climbing twice a week, playing hockey on occasion and snowboarding every week... stop going out to exercise so much... it's not good for you.

Meeting guys: go out and meet more guys... and now that I have a life... stop going out so to the gym so much...there's no guys there... and what... guys are supposed to magically appear before me as I sit at home and watch television and keep the dog company???

Parents don't make sense. It's time to stop listening to them and living my own life. I'm a big girl... I can take care of myself. I'm a smart cookie no matter who calls me an airhead.

Day 9929: Pushing the envelope... (I never really understood where this came from)

People aren't always what they appear to be. My Po-po (grandmother) called me this morning because she wanted to chat. Alarm bells instantly went off the moment she asked if I was in my office alone, and if it was a GOOD time to talk. Uh-oh... it's never a good time to talk about THAT.

Same old conversation about how she worries about all the grandkids because a large group of us are approaching the big 3- 0 and no one seems to be in a steady relationship. At least not one that she knows about. Of course, I neither confirm nor deny, answering all questions with the standard I-think-they're-just-friends and the we're-just-friends bit. Somehow, she has it in her mind, that if she sees us with a particular person of the opposite sex, we're automatically going out. (watch out Tuxedo Sam... she'll have you hooked up with the entire family soon. 'Specially cuz she's seen you at least three times...) :)

Eventually the conversation kind of went a little off topic. First she started talking about finding a nice Chinese boy and taking him home and cooking something for him as if the path to true love really was through the stomach, to which I replied, "Po-po, I don't want to scare him to death...he's going to think I'm trying to kill him." Then, she digressed and started saying that it didn't matter whether or not he was Chinese, and that all she really wants is for all her grandchildren to be happily accompanied by someone who truly cares for them and will take care of them when they're sick etc. Great-grandchildren don't even matter, she said. Wow.

I would never have believed that my grandmother was so progressive and so accepting. I did not expect her to share the same thoughts as most people in our generation. Granted, it is a "hypothetical" situation. But given that the parental units are not entirely for it (i.e. if it's someone else's kid, it's perfectly fine, but not-for-my-kid kind of thing), it makes you wonder if they believe what they believe because they think that is what the older generations want. And if they know that the grandparents are okay with it, will they become more accepting of it, and stop worrying about what other people think. Maybe it's time for someone to push the envelope and actually see what happens... any volunteers? I would if I could, but I can't so I won't. Damn, I can be a little shit-disturber sometimes.

Scary part of today's conversation:

Po-po: Have you lost weight yet?
Me: No. It's about the same.
Po-po: Well hurry up, I want to find someone else to set you up with.
Me: Ummm... no ... it's not necessary.
Po-po: It is necessary. Everyone these days meet through "introductions..."
Me: Ummm... No REALLY... it's NOT necessary...
Po-po: Really. It IS necessary. You're not getting any younger you know...

PS... CONGRATS Tuxedo Sam on your first 5.10... all you gotta do now is come to the gym regularly... wish I was there to see it! :oP

PSS... BO!!!! If you're down in Middle Earth and you're reading this... We miss you!!!! :o)

Day 9926: *click*... *click*... I wish I was in Jay Peak???

How does that song go... All my bags are packed, I'm ready to go... but I have nowhere to go. Triscuit and Betty-G are in Vermont today - boarding obviously. Oh, how I wish that I could be there. The fresh powder, the minus 40 temperatures, the freezing cold wind in your face... oh, joy. How I wish I could drop things at a moment's notice and just go.

It's like that kid from Belleville who won the $20 Million Super 7 last month. His plan was to follow the snow. That's a great plan. One that I could adapt to quite easily. Quite.

Tonight's Super 7 jackpot is $37.5 Million - don't forget to buy. I'd be very upset if I found out that you didn't! But, that's ok, since I plan on winning it - just have to remember to buy my ticket on my way home. So, in the spirit of daydreaming, here's today's list on J's plans on how to spend the lottery winnings that she hasn't won yet...

1. $2-3 Million to my charity of choice - either that or set up a foundation that will donate all yearly earnings to charity so that I might be called a philanthropist instead of the lucky bum who got rich by winning the lottery. Oh, and so I might be able to get a nice hefty tax deduction on tax return...me geek accountant... hey - why give the government any more money than they deserve.

2. $8 Million to my cousins - $1 Million to each of the 8 kids (ON MY MOM'S SIDE ONLY...hate my dad's side) so that they'll be able to follow their dreams without having to worry about money. Won't make them rich for the rest of their lives, but hopefully, they'll be able to parlay the cash into something that will make them quite comfortable... imagine... $1 Million at a measely 3% interest per year is still $30K at 50% effective interest rates, that's still an additional disposable income of $15K per year... that's a lot of lift tix, my friend.

3. $5 Million to the sista - for dealing with all my crap through the years, so she can satisfy her travel bug whenever she gets the urge to move, and so she can follow her dreams without having to worry about anything... ever... and she'll know that regardless of how she spends her $5 Mill, there's more where it came from, and she doesn't ever have to do anything she doesn't like again... dumb Texas... :o)

4. $10 Million to the parental units - for dealing with all my crap through the years. For dealing with all my crap for the years to come... and so they can go from one cruise to the next, because everything is "sooo beautiful" :o) And, should they so choose to fund my step-brother's restaurant, great!

5. $2.5 Million to the friends - be it cars or ski trips or whatever, I'm happy to spread the wealth... plus, they'll get full benefits of (see below) ...

6. $11 Million for me - I'm not greedy... I just want to be happy. Shrewd investment opportunities like buying real-estate in Whistler/Blackcomb, or Colorado somewhere... another in Banff... another in Switzerland... all with open door policy for my nearest and dearest... Like the kid said - I'm going to follow the snow. Oh, and maybe I'd like a Cheesecake Factory franchise. :o)

Of course... all above figures depend on the actual payout of the lottery, and if they present-value the payouts, how much I'd actually receive, since obviously, it's psychologically, and financially better to have the money now, instead of getting annual payments of X. Time value of money and all that crap. Damn... sometimes I hate being an accountant.

Oh... and if I actually win, I might seriously have to rethink all of the above... it's easy to spend money you don't have... :)

Day 9925: ...where's the beef?

Today is general pissed-offedness day...my peeves in random order...

1. Dumbass truckers - didja ever think that it might be a little easier, not to mention a little safer, if you don't try to force your way across 3 lanes of rush hour traffic just because you missed the on-ramp 'cuz you're not familiar with the area. Thereby causing mass confusion and some hysteria among some less-than-confident/competent drivers who swerve into someone else's lane and try to play bumper cars. Same goes for the freaking idiot I once saw who swerved from the left turn lane to the center lane to the right lane and then proceeded to make a left turn on a FUCKING RED LIGHT!!!! Asshole!!! If you're not a cop, or an EMS, etc. and your sirens ain't going...stop before you kill someone. Darwinian you deserves to die an early death.

2. Ice - sure we live in the frigid Canadian south, but we have to deal with the ice and snow just like anyone else... so, instead of listening to the rest of the country laughing at what wimps we Torontonians are and sitting in your little plow-truck nodding in agreement, maybe someone should do their job and salt the walkways and the parking lots...it's hard enough walking in with 2 briefcases and a freaking laptop - try it in heely boots and a freaking suit. If I fall and I hurt myself, I'M GOING TO SUE!!!!! Ps... after a night of freezing rain, it usually takes them until the morning of the day after to even lay down a little salt - and even that is sparse...as if a teaspoon of salt on a 50' sidewalk will make any difference whatsoever.

3. Starbucks/Second cup - I am weak. I have an addiction to Caramel Macchiatos and Caramel Corretos... I admit it. I'm not ashamed of it. But why, oh why are you all so freaking hard to get to... tucked away in a mall somewhere or have virtually no parking. I'm a traffic battling commuter. I can't ditch my car just for the sake of the blessed caffeine hit. GET A DRIVE THRU!!! (and while you're at it... change your pricing strategy... lower your prices and you'll sell more volume and make more profit... your coffees are prohibitively expensive for those who need the "extra" caffeine to start the day...damn it, I might have to switch to Timmy's soon...)

4. Yo! You in the elevator - are y'all so pressed for time, that if someone is merely three steps behind you, you can't hold the freaking elevator? That's just rude. It's going to take 3 seconds for someone to cross the lobby. 3 seconds is not going to kill you, but waiting 5 minutes for another elevator might just kill someone else... actually since we're on the topic of courtesy, have you noticed that people are a lot less courteous these days. As if taking the one or two seconds out of their oh-so-busy lives to smile and say "Have a nice day..." is going to turn their eyeballs inside out and make their skin turn green. Come on, people! What goes around comes around. Just because you are having a bad day does not make it okay to take it out on someone else. The guy in front of you in the teller line wasn't the one that made you late in the first place. If you had the foresight to leave the house two minutes earlier, you wouldn't be rolling your eyes and muttering cuss words under your breathe just because the person in the line in front of you has more than one transaction - if you're in that much of a rush... stop going during peak times.

5. Lift tix - just because I'm a "couple" of years passed the adolescent cut-off point, does it mean you can charge me almost double for a freaking lift ticket. Whoever said that skiing/snowboarding is a sport for rich people was right - resort operators get rich off of idiots like me who get addicted to surfing the snow. Just because I'm older doesn't necessarily mean that I have more disposable income on hand... I'm not supported by darling-daddy or mommy-dearest. I have to pay for my own tix. It takes A LOT LESS energy to get ME to the top of the hill as it does that 230 lb 15 year old standing in front of me in the lift line... and if I fall, I CAN get up, and not cause a backlog because the guy has to stop the lift and roll me to the side of the freaking hill. I may look a little rolly polly in all my gear... but I swear it's the Ass-Pad!!! (and the knee-pads... and the triple clothing layer... and the wristguards... and the helmet... and the extra fleece...) ... and the same goes for plane tickets, train tickets, bus tickets etc. etc...

6 and 7. Sex - it's everywhere. On television, in magazines, on the Internet... crazy! Everywhere I turn, someone is talking about sex. Ummmm... it's on my mind enough already - do I need to be thinking about it ALL the time? Give me a break! Isn't sex a private thing between 2 people? What's with the voyeurism of today's society... which links to my next peeve...

Reality television - Watching the women's team on The Apprentice blatantly using their sex appeal to win is disgusting. I'm as much of a "the end justifies the means" type of girl as the next... but that's just wrong. It's unfair and unethical...and just plain degrading even to see people stoop that low for the sake of winning on a reality television show. The women aren't winning because of their solid, proven business acumen... they're winning because they're using their sexuality to take advantage of attention starved men. Come on, ladies - show the world that women are better than men because of our brains, and not because of our boobs. American Idol... it's not funny to watch people's hopes and dreams crushed by razor-mouthed Simon. True, anyone trying out after the first season probably deserves the cutting remarks since they know what they're getting into, but some of them actually believe they have talent... and their family loves them enough not to crush them emotionally but telling them the truth. And... we can't miss Survivor - all-stars... who cares... more naked Richard... the thing as been done to death... I think I'm going to sell my television. Wait a second. I don't watch television... I just hear about all this from the people at work. Maybe I'll just go postal and shoot them with supersoakers everytime they bring up reality tv...

Day 9924: Me and my big mouth

My big mouth gets me into a lot of trouble sometimes. Mostly because I have problems keeping secrets. Not so much other people's secrets, but my own secrets. Things that people probably should not know about me, only because then the ensuing trouble is just not worth it. (i.e. refer back to blog on my conscience...)

Last night, in a conversation with Unsanitary Man, I let something slip that I shouldn't have. And he started to play the role of my conscience... let's just end that on a we'll-never-agree-on-it note. Though I know he means well, and I know that all my consciences mean well, I don't feel that I have to defend my actions to anyone. So long as I'm okay with what I'm doing, and I fully understand the repercussions, it shouldn't matter. I'm a big girl. I can handle myself.

But what they say does matter. Even if I don't want it to. It still causes me to pause and reflect and to see if they're right. And in very many ways, they are. I can argue and defend as much as I want, but at the end of the day, they still see things from an unbiased perspective. I hate it when people make me think.

I'm happy. I may be deluding myself, but I'm happy. For the moment at least.

Day 9923: Self love...

"It's a good thing" ~ Martha Stewart

The key to success is self love. Take a look around. All successful people are filled with supreme self-confidence and maybe some even have little superiority complexes. Why? Because, obviously, they love themselves. Or at least they like themselves enough to believe in themselves. You won't see a successful person with self-doubt.

Sure, there are the little things that successful people worry about. After all, life isn't hunky dory for everyone. Just because you are supremely confident in one area of your life does not mean that all aspects of your life is peachy. No one can be that lucky... or that have THAT much self love.

Ok, so maybe the first step to accomplishing anything in life is to begin by liking yourself... we'll work on the love later. To start by having the confidence to say, "Hey, I AM sexy... you can't touch this..." or "Damn it, I AM smart (AND I look good)... I deserve a promotion." But of course, in all things, it only works if it's true. No used in deluding yourself. Have to actually BE the sexy girl or BE the smartie-pants. You can have all the confidence in the world, but that won't get you anywhere unless you can actually back it up. Conundrum? Damned if you do... damned if you don't kind of thing? I have to be sexy (replace with smart, if so desired) in order to believe that I am sexy/smart. I have to believe that I am sexy/smart in order to appear sexy/smart. Total utter craziness. Will the world never cease to confuse me.

aside: I don't understand the big deal surrounding Martha Stewart. So what if she was caught trading on insider information. A lot of people do. They just don't get caught. I hate it when people make a bigger stink out of something just to make an example out of it. Why should one person bear the grunt of a million people's actions. I actually like her stuff...I miss her shows. They used to put me to sleep... ok... enough with the ranting...

ps...lol... for another view on self love... read this blog (not mine... just one that I follow 'cuz it's soooo damned interesting to read about other people's lives...)

I'm a-craving the curry crab today. Wanted it for breakkie... unfortunately, Indochine wouldn't open that early just to appease my whims... WHY GOD... WHY???? Doesn't the world revolve around me???

Day 9922: The decline of human civilization... otherwise known as Adult Disneyland...

I spent the weekend in Vegas. Yes, I, too, am surprised that I would travel so long for such as short holiday. Though, truth be told, total travel time must be only slightly more than the drive to Vermont or Tremblant which I found much more satisfying. To quote the Sista... It was a good time, but it just wasn't FUN.

It never ceases to astound me the sheer scale and size of the Vegas casinos. If you've never seen them in person, believe me, they are HUGE. There's a new one being built by Steve Wynn (former owner of the Bellagio and Mirage) that will either accomodate 10,000 people or have 10,000 rooms. I forget which, but does it really matter? The fact that the Venetian canals complete with gondolas can be replicated and scale models of the Eiffel tower and the Pyramid can be build is awe inspiring...

And then you remember that all this man-made wonder is based on one of the seven deadly sins... Greed. It is greed that drives the gambling, that drives people's desire to cater to gambling and the motivates them to build those monstrous complexes. Rumour has it (and this can be totally unfounded) that Caesar's Palace is building a Colliseum replica so that it can house Gladiator games. Ick... human sport, no matter how rehearsed... Has civilization done a 360 and reverted back to the spectator bloodlust of yore?

Don't get me wrong. I actually love Vegas. I love the Strip and think that it's one of the coolest things I've ever seen - the lights, the noise, the much ado about...well... nothing. But it's Vegas, and how could you not love it. Rich people rubbing shoulders with people who really shouldn't be there. Young people, old people... it doesn't matter so long as you have enough green to last you a little while. Penny slots, five dollar slots... one hundred dollar slots... it matters not so long as you hear the ding-ding-ding as your cash-out coins drop into the little metal tray.

Yup... it's cool to visit Sin City... just wouldn't want to live there... :oP

Day 9919: When is the RIGHT ...ahem... time?

At the risk of exposing myself as a prude, I have a question. Actually, it's more of an inner debate sparked by a recent lunchtime discussion that I had with some girls from work. It was about *whisper* S-E-X...

I've never had s-e-x. There. I've gone and said it. Yuppers, I am a 27 year old virgin (or at least I think I am... 27, I mean). Maybe I'm revealing too much - my age and my status - all in the same sentence. Man! What the heck am I thinking? Anyway, enough with the procrastination...

I don't think I've ever specifically been told "do not have sex until you get married." Not by my parents, not by my grandparents. Not by aunts...etc.etc. Come to think of it, the only people who even hinted at it were the teachers at the Christian school that I attended for grades 4-6, 8-9... and all they said was that it was bad for my immortal soul and that I was condemned to burn in hell for all eternity if I did "do it" before the "I do." But seeing how I'm religiously agnostic anyway, is there any reason that I should buy into that theory save for an irrational fear of something that I'm not sure I believe in anyway? Crazy isn't it, the impact that teachers have on a person. On the other hand, though, I've never bought into the "well, everyone else is doing it, so it must be okay..." phenomenon either.

Is there even that special person? Does the "one" even exist? ... is marriage just another ploy of some religious or governmental agency to curb mass orgies? Someone once told me that if guys could have multiple orgasms there would never be any wars or conflict... at least not involving men... hmmm... took me a while to understand that one... naive that I am.

Hypothetically, apart from the whole immortal soul issue, when do you know the time is right? I wouldn't want to do anything that I'd regret later (i.e. do guy still expect their wives to be virgins in this day and age?). Why is it that some people can have one night stands and some people require total emotional commitments before they do? From everything that I've read, and everything that I've been told... isn't it just supposed to feel right? Is it supposed to automatically click and then all of a sudden... sure, I'm ready...??? It's a big step. Or is it really? Does society put too much of an emphasis on sex? Perhaps. I'm so confused.

I feel like my entire life this far has been in a bubble. Sheltered from reality. Many of my friends have the same upbringing, have the same values... the same freaking jobs... :o( (damned accountants... hee hee...). I'd never met anyone before who kept track of every time, person and date until I started at this firm. To tell the truth, I'm not sure if I was horrified or bemused... ok, maybe horrified wasn't necessarily the right word, but you know what I mean. It never existed in my world before except for in movies and on television... blah...interesting though... hence the lunchtime conversation...

So...if you have, if you haven't... give a shout out, 'cuz I'd actually like to hear your views on the topic. You don't have to say who you are and you can always mail me or call me... but, it'll be interesting to find out! See yas! Wish me luck in Vegas!

Ps... GO PANTHERS!!!! Damn those uniforms look good! :o)

Day 9918: Amnesia

Friday night a bunch of us went to Una Mas for Amnesia. Picture crowds of people in their late 20's, mid 30's all partying to funky retro music from the 80's and 90's. Drunken boys singing Tiffany's I think we're alone now to each other, drunken girls bopping along to Summer of 69...ahem...left sided dancing and all, it was a good time.

Songs we haven't heard in years. Songs I've never heard of. Songs I think I've heard before but can't quite place because of my childhood immersion into Classical music, thus missing out on most of the 80's...actually, come to think of it, my childhood was wayyy too sheltered - I've missed most of the 80's pop culture phenoms... and most of the 90's... and now I just don't have a clue. Buuuutttt... I like what I like and, well, it's a little too late to do something about my lost childhood.

So, I want to go again. There will be another one February 13 for Valentine's Day. (segway... never did like Valentine's Day. In elementary school, it was a popularity contest... never did get any better after that...) There will be glow necklaces - and you know how much I love glow stuff - different colours for single, attached or just not sure. Lol... too funny... who's in???

Day 9916: Oh, the weather outside is delightful...

Let it snow, let it snow, let it snow!!! It's a glorious day out there boys and girls and I'm stuck in the office with nowhere to go!!! It's a beautiful day in the neighbourhood, a beautiful day in the neighbourhood...oops... sorry... did I start singing out loud again? I've been getting strange looks from strangers all day...

Packing tonight for my trip to Sin City... leaving Friday afternoon for the weekend and returning Monday morning on the redeye. Oy... Monday's going to be harsh isn't it. Too funny! All because Mommy-dearest wants to spend a weekend in Vegas for her birthday. Wow craziness!!!

Gonna work now, so maybe I can get out while it's still light out... let it snow, lt it snow, let it snow!!!!!

Oh, and plus, I had a fantastic weekend... remind me to tell you about it sometime!!!

:)

Day 9912: Closet foodie...

I'm a-slumping. Been in a food slump, a restaurant slump, a yum-yum slump - whatever you want to call it. No desire to eat, no specific food craving... what the hell is wrong with me? It's odd. Face it, it's downright strange. For someone as food motivated as I am, I cannot find anything that tickles my fancy. Except Kraft macaroni and cheese and even that is... ehhhh... whatever. It'll be a while before I give into that minor temptation. I'm already butt heavy as it is, don't need anymore "natural" padding to drag me down on my heelside turns.

I am quite perplexed and even peeved that I'm experiencing this slump. In all rights, going to fancy-schmancy restaurants with great presentations and luscious desserts should whet my appetite and make those little taste buds of mine tingle. Nope. Doesn't do it for me. Dunno why. Dunno how. Just dunno. Not Indian food, not korean, not japanese... definitely not chinese... just dunno...

I used to be a closet foodie. Okay. Maybe not so much closet, so much as an ignoramous foodie. I watched FoodTV, read cookbooks, dreamt of one day owning my own restaurant, tried to replicate every single fancy-schmancy meal that I've ever had...and trust me... there was one phase where fancy-schmancy was a way of life. Ick. Explains a lot. Buttery sauces, steak that melts in your mouth... mmmmm... would salivate at the thought like that that damned Pavlovian dog.

So the other day when I went to Terra North 44, I was still a-slumping. Kept staring at the menu waiting for inspiration to hit, but somehow it didn't. Ended up ordering halibut with buttered spinach, fingerling potatoes, and steamed carrots and green beans with a funky roast pepper salsa on the side. Don't get me wrong. It was good. But it missed the "oomph." Alright, frankly, it missed more than "oomph," including a lighter hand with the salt. But it was a good time, the wine was better than the food, the company better than the wine, and it was just a downright great evening. Dessert was someone elses' banana bread pudding with wisps of caramelized spun sugar - a little too caramelized as the bitterness of the burnt sugar was just a little heavy and overpowering. Serves me right, though for trying to eat the decorative touches. Strange, huh... that even the dessert menu didn't speak to me, I didn't even order my own. If I never have another piece of chocolate in my life again... welllll... maybe I won't finish that sentence while I'm a-slumping.

Tonight I'm going to Boba. Kannan's choice. He's been talking about it for years. Reputably a great Mediterranean-fusion type thing with funky vegetable sushi etc. etc. Seems interesting. Somewhat. Checked out the menu online this morning... still not speaking to me. Well, maybe they'll have some specials or something. So long as it doesn't have Scotch Bonnet peppers in it and doesn't send someone to the ER, I'll go along with it. I'm flexible.

Day 9911: Spontaneity

Ever type a word, then stare at the word, spellcheck the word and still think that the word looks funny?

Spontaneous: 1. Acting from native feeling, proneness, or temperament, without constraint or external force 2. Something I'm learning to be...

Planner. That be me. I compulsively plan every little moment down to the last detail and I stress when things don't go my way. Even moments that I shouldn't be planning, I'm planning. I'm getting better though. I'm learning to be spontaneous.

Last thing someone said to me before I left for France this summer was "Be spontaneous..." So, anal that I am (or was), I planned to be spontaneous. Went through a couple days saying, "Have to be spontaneous. Promised I'd be spontaneous." Most spontaneous thing I did those 16 days - jump on a merry-go-round for a picture and jump off again before the ticket guy saw me. Almost got my arm ripped out of the socket in the process. Whoopee do da!

I've always wanted to be one of those people who always carry their passports with them on the off chance that I'd just get an urge to go hop on a plane to somewhere unknown. No clothes, no toothbrush... just passport, credit cards and whatever junk I happen to have in my knapsack. You only live once, right? And, it's only money. Maybe for a long weekend or something... but what about the dog?

So I have been spontaneous. Or rather, I'm learning to be spontaneous. Labour day weekend, coming back from Deerhurst, we went to the drive-in instead of sitting in traffic. Recently, in the not to distant past, went to Terra North 44 on a whim after a movie... dressed in jeans and a hoodie. Lol. I'm trying... really...

Live life... be spontaneous. I think I need to go a-travelling...

PS. Happy Chinese New Year!!! Kung Hei Fat Choy!!!

Day 9910: oops...whaddaya mean I had a deadline??

I have never been hindered by the desire to fulfill a deadline. Things get done before the deadline usually, but hey, sometimes it just doesn't happen. Especially with birthday or Christmas presents. Actually, this blog goes hand in hand with an earlier entry where I questioned the necessity of buying Christmas presents for the sake of buying a present and not because it is something that the receiver will truly enjoy.

Today, I found the perfect Christmas present for someone. Cost more than I had anticipated, and actually, I was astounded and did a double take when I heard the cost. But it is rather difficult to mess with perfection. Plus... I've had so much fun with it already this afternoon in the office, that darned it... it's just worth the big bucks I spent on it! If I had only seen the tiny little sticker that double digited what I was expecting to spend on it... but darned it... it's worth it!!!

So I've been up to 2 years late on a present before... ultimate procrastinator. Actually bought the present on time, but somehow didn't get around to wrapping and giving the present. Oops... whaddaya mean I had a deadline???

No skating tonight. Head's still a-pounding. Movie instead. Later babes. :)

Day 9909: Jocks vs. Geeks

Yesterday, in my migrainial stupor and inability to sleep in fear of not being able to fall asleep when I was supposed to be sleeping, I actually turned on the television. And *sob*... watched reality tv. I admit it. I sat on the couch, bored to virtual tears, watching Average Joe in Hawaii... of all things. Ok, so really, I was flipping back and forth between that and Meet the Parents and that movie with Steve Martin and his big, big nose. But who really cares since I fell asleep and never saw the end of any of those.

But, I have to admit, Average Joe in Hawaii was actually interesting. Not in the conventional show type of interesting, but interesting in the way it revealed so much about the human psyche and man's insecurity. In case you haven't seen the show, I THINK the general premise is that a bunch of "average" (read some semi-geeky but completely normal) men compete for the tender affections of a gorgeous woman (or something equally as corny) when all of a sudden, in yesterday's episode, a boat-load (literally) of sexy, incredibly good-looking, athletic surfer type dudes (WHOA BABY!!!) show up to compete against the geekoids. You could literally see the "average joe's" confidence shatter. It was actually quite sad and really rather depressing since we all know how applicable that is in real life - the show only made it that much more apparent. It was rather cruel when you think about it. The "geeks" fought so hard when the "jocks" weren't around, but you know, that once the "jocks" are in the picture, no matter how hard the "geeks" fight, there's no way they'll be able to compete physically.

Why, you ask, do I bring this up? Well, it seems we have our own case of Jocks vs. Geeks. My firm has been challenged to a hockey game by one of our clients. Without naming the client, let's just say that they are (or should be) rather athletic since they're a tour operator for a couple of very popular winter sports and are all snow-affecionados to say the least. Great. And we're a bunch of accountants, most of whom can barely skate and if we can skate, we're not coordinated enough to do it while holding a stick and trying to push a tiny piece of rubber along the ice. Luckily, we do have a co-op who's supposedly a crack goalie, a couple of ex. double A players who double as hockey coaches... and of course me (hee hee)... but I have this impending sense of complete, utter disaster. Ick. If anything, when the time comes and we're short players, I'll rope in Triscuit... ex triple A... should even out the teams a bit.

Wish us luck. :)

Day 9908: "I am the favourite past time of all the guys in my office..." ~ someone "special"

Stress is relative. My life compared to some people is very unstressful. But today I have tension headaches or maybe tension migraines. I wonder why.

Tuxedo Sam has met every single member of my family. It was only a matter of time. On Saturday, he met the last two - my mom and Uncle Fred. Car in the ditch, mom almost run over by a 4X4 - it was definitely an interesting night to say the least. But everyone is okay, and well... I'm sure things could be better. I'm just glad things weren't worse.

Off I go to pop more pills. But before I do that... here are my stresses...

1. Money... or rather... no money
2. Blue... hullabaloo about driving back and forth
3. Jay Peak... should I or shouldn't I?
4. Killington... I need confirmation people!!!
5. Why do I need to define things when I'm happy where I am?
6. Job... what job??
7. Close calls suckass
8. Headaches... I hope it's not another 5 weeker.
9. Dumb Colts... why couldn't they make it to the SuperBowl?

Day 9905: Even if you are stupid, you're still beautiful...

I'm wearing my Care Bear shirt today underneath an oversized green sweater that I borrowed from my sister's closet. It has a hole in the sleeve, but I didn't put it there. My shirt has Cheer Bear on it and it says 100% huggable. Today I just feel like a kid. Or dressing like one. At least I don't wear the same T-shirt that I've had since middle school. Ahem...

I have another Care Bear shirt with Grumpy Bear on it. That one says I get grumpy when I haven't had my hug. Hmmm. Maybe I'm just a really huggy type of person these days. Or maybe I'm just regressing back into childhood. Wow. Considering the company I've been keeping, that's not too far a stretch.

I've always loved cartoons. I love drinking chocolate milk through a bendy straw - better yet if it's a crazy straw. Those things rock, but they're so hard to clean out. Oops, the practical side of me is showing through. I love sugar sweet cereal that turns the milk a funky nasty purple grey colour. I still watch children's feel good movies, and yes, they do make me feel better. I sleep with Care Bears, I don't have a Disney or Hello Kitty obsession, and I do have a few stuffed animals, though most of them become property of DAWG eventually. Too funny.

My inner child is shouting out to be heard... I'm even thinking about mascerating an old stuffed animal to make a cute new chalk bag.

Day 9904: Vigilence.

Stepped on the scale this morning and gave myself a heart attack. The holidays have not been good to me. Not at all. Blah. Should have been more careful. Should not have gorged on chocolate. Should not have drowned myself in alcohol. Stupid wasted empty calories. Now I'll have to climb that much harder and sweat that much harder.

Bonus though. If I train with the extra pounds, I'll be that much stronger when I shed off those pounds... and you betcha baby... they are coming off. Whatever way that I need to get it done, I'm gonna do it. I've lived in the dark side for way too long. I've experienced the light side... I like it so much better.

Blah... :o(

Day 9903: In search of the woman within…

I have a purse. Actually, I have very many purses. I have a whole gym bag full of purses. Some strange unknown cosmic reason prompts people to buy me purses as presents. Imagine that. Do they not know that I have emotional attachments to my knapsacks… and that I carry one with me in lieu of a purse, or even a wallet.

Don’t get me wrong. On very rare occasions… or should I say on a very rare occasion (singular)… I have bought a purse. No idea what incited this strange purchase. It’s not like I would have used it anyway. Perhaps a misguided sense of what is appropriate on the first day at a new job where they have no idea that I really, really, really, really like my knapsacks. Or maybe it was an attempt to be more feminine by being able to claim that I once bought a purse. Yeah… doesn’t really work, does it.

Well, yesterday, and the day before, I actually used a purse! Surprise, surprise… J’s turning into a girlie girl. Hmmmm… imagine that. Yuppers! Threw all the contents of my knapsack (sans minidisk and discs) into my purse and off to the client’s I went. Hated every single second that I was carrying that thing, but all in all… it wasn’t so bad. Except that it didn’t sit well on my shoulder over my coat, the straps were stiff and stuck up at strange angles, I couldn’t find my cell phone half the time it went off, and it didn’t fit the bundle of papers that I brought home to work on. Oh, and my change kept getting lost, I couldn’t fit in my Nalgene bottle, couldn’t find my gum after my crazy egg salad with green peppers incident and I swear it ate my money. I really LOVE my purse…

Today I’m back to using my knapsack. sob… I swear I will never leave you again…

PS. I have very many wallets too. But it’s not like I use them either!

Day 9898: Just have to share

Climbed a 5.10b last night. Yay me! Ok. Loads of work today. Too much goofing off. Gotta run!

:)

Day 9897: Justification

Every action, every purchase can be justified. Take new climbing shoes for example. Climbing 5.10's now, so beginner shoe that I had before sucks - thus, since I have my first hole in the shoe, the resoling guy is out of town, I don't want the hole to grow any larger, also forgot my shoes at home the day I went to MEC... therefore NEW SHOES... yay!

New example... I like my beauty sleep. God knows I need it. Typical example of justification:

Triscuit: Wake up...time to hit the slopes!
J: Hffmmmmttt...
Sista: Wake up... time to go...
J: Ppppppfffffffttttt... I have a headache. I need to sleep it off......hhhhhfffffmmmm....zzzzzz....
?: We're leaving without you......
Triscuit, Sista & ???: WAKE UP!!!!!!!
J: ZZZZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzz........*snork*.... crap... slept in again...

Day 9896: En français svp

Veuillez excuser mon français. C'est vraiment mauvais. Cependant, pour quelque raison je me sens comme "blogging" en une autre langue aujourd'hui. Peut-être parce que ma soeur "emailing" m'en français pour les couples passés des jours. Ce, et même si je voulais à, là ne serait aucune manière que je pourrais blog dans le Chinois.

Chacun que je sais fait quelque chose de différent. Mon cousin partira pour "Middle Earth" bientôt. Mon autre cousin va à Seattle travailler pour Expedia. Ma soeur est à Dallas et mes amis ont fractionné autour du monde. Et je m'assieds sur mon grand gros âne à la maison. Comment pathétique.

J'ai eu une autre conversation avec un collègue au sujet de la vie. Semble que chacun est indécis au sujet de leurs choix de carrière. Je pense que c'est une maladie qui se répand - l'indécision et l'apathie. J'essaye de m'inquiéter. Vraiment, je . Mais jour dedans, jour dehors, je prie que je serai mis le feu de sorte que je puisse prendre le paquet de séparation et commencer une nouvelle vie quelque part. Malheureusement, cela ne se produira jamais. Et toujours, je ne sais pas quoi faire avec me.

Je vraiment dois obtenir mes fesses outre du divan. Est-ce que tout bruit juste n'améliore pas en français ?

Ps. J'espère que ceci s'est compris.

Day 9895: Mixology 2004

Christmas Eve 2003 my sister and I were involved in a car accident. Nothing serious, mind you - just a little fender bender when the other driver (who happened to be my cousin) forgot to stop. The reason... well, she was laughing too hard about a "small world" story involving none other than Tuxedo Sam. Though the story itself is hilariously funny, I will not be blogging it. If you want to know - you're going to have to ask Mr. BMW, himself.

It got me thinking though. The world of accounting - especially Waterloo grads and whatnot is extremely small. It is becoming more and more difficult to keep different worlds separated. Not that I really want to since everything I organize is "the more the merrier" anyway. But some people do, and it does upset them when worlds start colliding. Actually, the world is becoming an incredibly small place whether we consider accounting, Waterloo, or not. It's easier and easier these days to play six degrees of separation with every new person I meet... in reality, sometimes, it's only two degrees. And that can be kind of scary. Especially when these people do not know about certain "details" of one's life, but they know the other "detail".

If too many people know about your past, it is much harder to build a new life for yourself if that is what you choose. Take for example my old hullabaloo with the dreaded big E&Y. Guaranteed someday, should I run for politics that will come back and bite me on my big fat old wrinkly behind... not that I will run for politics... anytime soon. Memories are never short enough, things come back to haunt you. Actions though perhaps innocent when they were committed become distorted when rehashed and recreated.

T'is a small world afterall... my worlds are colliding. Scary thought.

Day 9894: Will the real person please come forward

No one is as they appear to be.