Viva Las Vegas, Where the Neon Signs Flash Your Name - part 1

Going to Vegas for Christmas was an excellent idea. There was a bit of airline craziness going down (it took 6 hours) but it was smooth sailing on the way home. We had so much fun - checking out all the Christmas glitz in the hotel lobbies, dressing up in our Vegas clothes to see Cirque Du Soleil, people watching in the casinos, drinking champagne straight from the bottle - all the stuff you have to do when you're in Vegas.

We had fabulous weather so we spent a lot of time outside. We got to see the fountains outside the Bellagio at night (the 1 thing I really wanted to do)

and we rode the rollercoaster that goes outside around New York New York (the 1 thing that S really wanted to do.) We actually did the rollercoaster twice and both times I thought I was going to vomit. Scariest rollercoaster I have been on. Ever.

We stayed at the Luxor, which was nice. We had a bit of a Seinfeld moment when we tried to check into our pyramid deluxe room ("See, you know how to take the reservation, you just don't know how to *hold* the reservation and that's really the most important part of the reservation, the holding. Anybody can just take them.") Our plane landed so late that they had already given away all the pyramid rooms. The whole point of staying at the Luxor was so that we could stay in the pyramid (clearly S got to pick the hotel) so it was very disappointing. Disappointing, that is, until they upgraded us to a player's suite. Everytime we walked into the room, S would say "playa!" which made the whole thing worth while.

That, and the jacuzzi.

Wouldn't It Be Nice If I Could Melt Myself Like Ice Or Outrun My Skin And Just Be Pure Wind

This picture was taken the night of my company Christmas party but because my camera cable was MIA, I couldn't upload it until today. It marks the 8-month countdown to our wedding. I'm posting it as motivation. This is what I look like in December. In August? In August my arms will not be flabby. I will not have chipmunk cheeks. I will get my eyebrows waxed by a professional for the first time. S will stop slouching (I look like a giant next to him in this picture but in real life he towers over me by about 6 inches.)

I am not usually so image-obsessed. I go through phases of dissatisfaction with various parts of my body (I'm a woman - I won't apologize) but I've never felt so utterly disgusted with how I look. It's no coincidence that I've also never been as inactive as I've been in the past few months. The wedding will be fabulous if I am wearing a size 2 or a size 12. I will be happy if my arms are toned and muscular or if they are flabby and wing-like. S loves me and my chipmunk cheeks and multiple chins. I know all this and yet ... in my twisted way of thinking, I've convinced myself that I will be happier, the wedding will be better, S will love me more if I lose 10 pounds / tone up the flab / grow my hair / cut my hair, etc. I am suffering from a case of the crazy.

It goes without saying that any form of weight loss plan will not go into effect until after Christmas. I have no will power under normal circumstances and Christmastime in our family is anything but normal circumstances. Not only because of crazy family stress but also because of the stupid amounts of Christmas baking that goes on. I haven't eaten a proper meal in days, unless dipping shortbread and oranges in melted chocolate counts as a proper meal. I wish I lived in a world where chocolate-dipped shortbread and orange slices were considered a balanced diet.

Forget About Your House of Cards and I'll Do Mine

We have hot water again but I refuse to celebrate. Instead, I'm anxiously awaiting the next cold shower. After the last hot water tank mishap, we were assured that everything was fixed, everything was working and we had nothing to worry about. So we didn't worry. I won't fall into that trap again. As of right now, we are on hot water tank #2 and hot water tank breaker #2. Everything is new and shiny. In theory, we should have hot water for the foreseeable future.

On top of having hot water, we also seem to have sorted out the lien issue. I don't want to say it's resolved because I'm sure I'll jinx it, but we are on the right track. Our lawyer assures us that it's nothing we have to worry about - he will sort it out with the seller's lawyer and let us know when it's settled.

I'm trying to not freak out about all these little issues but I'm not doing a good job of it. I didn't think that owning our own place would be so much work. Today is exactly 1 month since we took possession and it feels like we haven't had time to enjoy it yet.

In other weekend news, if you get exfoliator in your eye, it's not a good idea to then rub it. It won't get the exfoliator out, it will just exfoliate your eyeball. Exfoliating your eyeball hurts like a mofo, just in case you're wondering.

Insanity Laughs Under Pressure We're Cracking

Last week we had hot water. This week? We do not. At least we haven't lost the electricity. Yet. (We are spoiled, I know.) Something is wrong with our shiny new hot water tank. It keeps randomly tripping the breaker so we lose our hot water capabilities. We never actually notice until someone wants to take a shower though. It does not make for a happy household. We've owned the condo for 3 weeks and we've been through 2 hot water tanks. It's getting a bit ridiculous.

Also ridiculous is the phone call I got yesterday from a collections agent. It turns out that there was a lien on our condo and our lawyer missed it during the title search. I know, right? That's the point of the lawyer - to deal with the legal stuff. To say that I'm stressed would be putting it mildly. Hopefully it will all be sorted out today - it's our lawyer's mistake so (in theory) he should take care of it.

To top off my completely random post, on the skytrain this morning I was sitting next to a woman who was breaking up with her boyfriend (on the phone.) She was getting really agitated and it was really awkward and boring until she busted out this little gem:
"Yeah, well you can chuckle your way to Lonely Town."
Pure Genius.

Maybe Baby You Will Love Me Someday

I am not a morning person. Every morning is a struggle to get out of bed, get dressed and get out the door by 7:30. This morning I was running a bit behind, so I didn't have time for my morning cup of coffee. Until I have coffee, I am not coherent. So I'm late, I haven't had any coffee yet and this is the conversation I have with a complete stranger in the elevator of my condo building:

Random Man: So do you like it here?

Me: (Mustering up all my energy to reply in actual words and not just grunts) Yes.

Random Man: Do you live here with your parents?

Me: (a little creeped out) Uh no, I live with my fiancé.

Random Man: He should be your husband!

Me: (a lot creeped out) He will be, next year.

Random Man: Make it this year. Then you can start having babies.

At this point I was saved by our arrival at the ground floor.

W.T.F? Why did this man, who I've never met before, feel like he had the right to tell me when to start having babies? Maybe I don't want babies. Maybe I can't have babies. He doesn't know. Just because I have a vagina doesn't mean I have to reproduce. It was a ridiculous way to start a morning. So ridiculous that when I got downtown, I needed a chocolate croissant to soothe my rage. It's all about the justification.

But How Do You Plan For a Bank Full of Nuns?

My baby sister, Bow, works at a bank. Last week her bank was robbed. At gunpoint (who has guns? in the suburbs?) My little sister is the most timid, non-confrontational person you could imagine. She is quiet and shy and gentle. Her husband (okay so I said she's my baby sister but she's actually 21) is out of town this weekend so she's moved back in with my parents. My sweet little sister is too afraid to be in her own house.

I can't imagine being too afraid to do my job. I've been too tired to do my job. Too annoyed, too frustrated, too sick. Never too afraid.

I feel so indignant. How dare someone come in to her place of work and take what's not his? Not the money - who cares about the money - but her sense of security. Her peace of mind. Her confidence. I am livid for Bow.

I also feel conflicted. I can't help but feel pity for someone who is so desperate that they have to rob a bank. I'm finding Christmas a bit of a financial strain this year and I have a job that pays me well. I can't imagine being unemployed at this time of year. It wouldn't drive me to rob a bank though.