Just Beat It Beat It Beat It Beat It No One Wants To Be Defeated - Take 5

Slipping in just under the wire, my May beets:

Beets and a sweet potato, drizzled with olive oil and roasted for an hour, then peeled and chopped.

To mask the taste of the beets (clockwise from top left): avocado, pink grapefruit, snap peas, red pepper, cucumber, cheery tomatoes, red onion, strawberries.

More beet-flavour-maskers: barbecued chicken and goat cheese. 

The verdict: These salads were massive. The beet to other-food ratio was approximately 1:20. The beets tasted like beets (read: sweaty ass crack) but there were enough strong flavours (the grapefruit worked particularly well) to hide it. The trick is to never eat a piece of beet by itself. 

All That Noise And All That Sound

Friday Faff: Eff That Noise Edition

Shawn is getting sued.

The end.

Mother Mother Can You Hear Me Yeah I'm Sober Sure I'm Sane

My mom is late for everything. If you tell her to be somewhere at a certain time, it's a pretty safe bet that she'll be at least fifteen minutes late. Her problem lies in not wanting to leave the house messy; the theory being that it's so much nicer to come home to a clean house. (Which makes sense, I guess, but it used to drive me crazy when I was a kid. My mom had four kids. The house was never clean.) Every summer we would take a family camping trip and every summer the four of us kids would sit in the car, fuming, while Mom ran around the house making beds, dusting, folding laundry, etc and Dad tried to convince her that she didn't actually need to have a spotless house to enjoy her holiday.

I kind of get it, now. You come home to a clean slate. There's a certain appeal to it.

Our flight to the Dominican was scheduled to leave Vancouver at 6am Saturday morning. Because we were travelling in large group, and due to the multiple cancellations and re-bookings and general craziness the Swine Flu caused, we were advised to arrive at the airport at 3am. There really wasn't any point in going to bed and so, after the puppies were dropped off and we were packed, I cleaned the condo. I didn't even realize that I was channelling my mother at the time; it just made sense. I don't often identify with my mom. I tend to attribute my negative personality traits to her (the crazy, the guilt, the shrillness.) It catches me by surprise when I see her in my actions.

I scrubbed; I mopped; I laundered and I vacuumed up every last bit of Stella's hair. And it felt damn good when we got home at 3:30 in the morning, after 19 hours of travelling and a week of sun and too much alcohol, to climb into a bed made with freshly laundered sheets.

I'm An Iron Chef When I Slice And Dice

I went to a fancy kitchen gadgets party last night. It was as thrilling as it sounds.

I went because it was hosted by one of my closest friends whose mother is hosting a series of these parties to earn enough points to take her sister to Disneyland, not because I'm interested in spending $20 on a device used solely for wedging fresh pineapple. (No really, there is such a thing. Who wants to spend $20 on something they'll use once or twice a year? I guess people who have big enough kitchens to store a fresh pineapple wedger that is 9 inches in diameter are the kind of people who can afford to spend $20 on it.)

I wasn't planning to buy anything (in fact, I grounded myself from spending any money) but I ended up ordering a mini-serving spatula (in my defence, my mom has one and it's the perfect size for getting brownies out of the pan) and a small measuring cup for measuring teaspoons and tablespoons (I have no excuse for this one. I have a set of very nice measuring spoons and a set of back-up measuring spoons for when the other set is dirty.) I only spent $20 though, so I'm not too angry at myself.

I am angry, however, that I didn't watch my wine intake. My head is very hurty this morning. This is bad considering the fact that this is an extremely busy week at work. My boss leaves at the end of the week for a month so we're all a bit crazypants. Or in my case, crazypants + hungover.

The Boat Engine Makes Noise

Yesterday I:

Got to work to find my office building's air conditioning unit had fried itself over the weekend. Our thermostat said it was 27 degrees (Celsius) in our office (Dear Americans, 27 degrees Celsius = 80 degrees Fahrenheit. Love Hillary.) I am constantly cold at work, so even during the summer months I dress like I'm going skiing. I layer like you've never seen anyone layer before. I'm fairly certain that yesterday was the first time my coworkers had seen my bare arms. The maintenance guy managed to get things working again after lunch but the air was still dead and warm and sticky when I left work last night.

Gave Wolfgang a bath and tried to comb all the snarls out of his coat. We were both extremely stressed and upset by the time I gave up. I decided to give him a treat to make up for it so I took him over to the treat cupboard. We keep all the puppy stuff together in one bin so I put the puppy shampoo and comb away while I was there. I guess I wasn't moving fast enough for Wolfgang though, because he looked me straight in the face and peed right in front of the treat cupboard. Needless to say, Wolfgang did not receive his post-bath treat.

This morning I:

Woke up three minutes before I usually leave for work.

Forgot my umbrella and was soaked to the bone by the time I got to my office.

Froze my ass off when I finally got to work because the property manager kept the air conditioning running full tilt all night. My thermostat said it was 16 degrees.

Stabby does not even begin to describe how I feel today.

To make myself feel better, I was looking through my holiday photos and I realized that I still haven't done a recap. I'm awesome like that. So here is a mini-recap. A one-day recap. Tuesday. The day of the Tropical Storm excursion.

This is me and Shawn on the bus, headed to the Tropical Storm. We look happy and relaxed but really, my head had just melted minutes before. We had been told to be in the lobby for 7:50 so we assumed the bus would be leaving at 8:00. We arrived at 7:53 just in time to watch the bus pull out of the resort. Luckily the concierge was a rockstar and managed to get the bus to come back and pick us up.

I have no idea what this is. It looks like a bunch of palm trees with no tops. I took the picture out the bus window as we drove past.

We all piled onto the sailboat and headed out to sea. It was a beautiful day, the crew was hilarious, the rum flowed freely and over half the sailboat occupants were people from our group. It made for an awesome excursion.

We headed up the coastline to get a look at all the different resorts. We ended up right outside of our resort, to get a closer look at the Astron Shipwreck.

From there we sailed out to a coral reef for some snorkeling. Anyone who knows me knows that I am not a fan of the ocean. I feel like we should leave the ocean alone and the ocean will leave us alone. You don't see any sharks coming up on land to mess with us so why tempt fate by heading into shark territory? It makes sense. Just go with it. Anyway, as I mentioned above, the rum was flowing freely. And so I snorkeled. I lasted for maybe five minutes before I hit some coral and convinced myself that I was about to be eaten by sharks (SHARKS SMELL BLOOD. Fact.) So I headed back to the boat and took pictures of Shawn and R.

Shawn is on the left and R is on the right. Sorry the photo sucks. I didn't want to risk dropping my DSLR in the ocean so I just took my little point and shoot camera on the boat.

After the snorkeling, we sailed to a beach with the world's largest inflatable water slide. How random is that? Random. Very random. It was all fun and games until someone (me. sigh.) lost their bikini bottoms.

After I collected my bikini bottoms (my dignity was nowhere to be found) we sailed onto a natural pool for some lunch and a floating bar. By this point, we had been in the sun for 6 hours. We had also been drinking for 6 hours. Lunch - warm (unintentionally warm) pasta salad, dried bread and unidentifiable luncheon meats - has never tasted so good. After that we sailed back to our starting point and piled back on the bus; drunk, sunburned and exhausted. For me, it was the most fun day of the trip. Definitely a day to remember (she says as she looks out her window at the Vancouver rain and shakes her fist.)

'Cause You Would Never Sue Me Baby It Wouldn't Look Good It'd Be Weird

Last week Shawn sold a pair of speakers through craigslist. There was a bit of confusion on Shawn's part about who he was selling them to and he ended up agreeing to sell the speakers to two different people. In his defence, he wasn't being malicious or sleazy - there was a genuine miscommunication between Shawn and the first person he agreed to sell them to. Shawn sold the speakers to the first person and emailed the second person to apologise and explain the situation.

The second person (hereafter referred to as Mr. D-Bag) replied that Shawn had a week to produce his speakers or he would sue him. He emailed Shawn from his work email address, identifying himself as a Realtor. He told Shawn that their email correspondence was a legal, binding contract and that Shawn had broken that contract by selling the speakers to someone else. He said that as a real estate agent, he was very knowledgeable about contracts and that he knew he would be successful in suing Shawn.

Shawn called Mr. D-Bag to try to diffuse the situation. He felt like he could talk to Mr. D-Bag to better explain the situation and make Mr. D-Bag realize that Shawn had made a mistake and felt remorse. He also offered to help Mr. D-Bag buy a new pair of speakers, using his contacts in the industry to get Mr. D-Bag a sweet discount.

Mr. D-Bag refused Shawn's help, saying that he didn't want or need new speakers; he wants Shawn's speakers. Only those speakers will do. He also reiterated his knowledge of contracts and his belief that he will be successful when he takes Shawn to small claims court. At which point Shawn asks Mr. D-Bag if this is really worth his time. Seriously. He's going to sue Shawn over speakers? And Mr. D-Bag says that yes, he is going to sue Shawn over speakers; it's not that difficult to file a claim and he can recoup the fee when he successfully sues Shawn. Shawn took this to mean that Mr. D-Bag has done this before.

Mr. D-Bag then tells Shawn that if he pays him $200 "compensation" he won't sue him. Oh yes, Mr. D-Bag throws down the extortion card. He tells Shawn he can have a few days "to think about it" and hangs up.

So of course I'm all riled up. I'm all "let's write a letter to his employer! Let's report him to the Real Estate Board of Canada!" and Shawn is all "I don't know. Maybe I should just pay him so he goes away."

Shawn's strategy is to ignore Mr. D-Bag in the hope that he will give up and disappear while my strategy is to draft stern letters that Shawn said I am allowed to send if/when Mr. D-Bag actually files a claim.

The situation is so bizarre. Using Mr. D-Bag's logic, Shawn could sue the two individuals who both agreed to buy the speakers and never showed up to actually complete the transaction. Or the idiot who agreed on the price but showed up with $200 less and pressured Shawn to still sell him the speakers because that's all he could afford to spend on them. That's what Craigslist is. It's sometimes shady and unreliable. Does that mean you should sue every time something doesn't work out in your favour?

Oh It's You Again Listen This Isn't A Reunion So Sorry If I Turn My Head

While we were away, Stella stayed with my parents and Wolfgang stayed with Shawn's mom. They've never been apart for longer than a day so I was curious to see what would happen when they were reunited. I was expecting a slow-motion run toward each other and a long embrace (you know, with music swelling in the background.)

What actually happened? Was more of their usual shenanigans:



And my personal favourite:

"Hellllpppp meeee!"

In other puppy news, Wolfgang has stopped punishing us for leaving him and has resumed peeing outside. I like him a whole lot more now.

As for Stella, last night she proved she really is my dog: Shawn sold a pair of speakers and came home with a wad of cash. He was in the bedroom sorting it into piles of $100, when I heard him frantically start with the "Stella! Leave it! Leave it? LEAVE IT!" (Of all the commands we've tried to teach Stella, "leave it" is the one she absolutely refuses to acknowledge. She can give a high-five like a boss but tell her to "leave it" and she'll look at you like you're a smelly turd.) I walk into the bedroom and there's Stella, muscles tensed, ready to bolt ... with a mouthful of twenties. I wanted to grab my camera but Shawn thought that maybe, just maybe, I should help get the $160 (atta girl!) out of Stella's maw before it started to disintegrate. He's no fun.

And On The Streets They Reek Of Tropical Charms

This week has been a struggle to get back into our routine. Our work routine (ugh - work is kicking my ass right now.) Our puppy routine (Wolfgang got a very stern talking to last night about how peeing inside is unacceptable. He then proceeded to, um, pee inside. I love him.) Our workout routine (okay I say "our" but really I mean "Shawn's." Don't judge me.) It has been difficult to get out of the holiday mindset. I sit in front of a computer all day, fluorescent lights frying my eyes, instead of sitting on the beach all day, soaking up the sun. I may be suffering from the post-holiday blues.

So I will postpone my holiday recap a little longer and leave you with a few photos:

Our resort was gorgeous.

The grounds were immaculate.

There were palm trees everywhere.

I love palm trees.

When you go somewhere with white sandy beaches and turquoise water, it's pretty much mandatory to take a photo like this (hey I don't make the rules, I just follow them.)

And if you're Shawn, it's mandatory to mock your wife by taking your version of a sandy feet photo.

Ain't It A Shame That At The Top Peanut Butter And Jam They Served You

While eating my lunch today, I found myself growing more and more irritated by the stupid jackass glob of cream cheese that filled the hole of my bagel. I don't often eat bagels (hello carb coma) so I never actually prepare them myself (there's a Tim Hortons directly across from my office; this is pretty much the exact definition of "both a blessing and a curse"); however, if I were to prepare my own bagel, I'm fairly certain that I could figure out how to spread the cream cheese on the bagel without it forming a nasty dairy tumour. Spread the cream cheese in a circle, am I right? It takes minimal extra effort - just a little wrist action - and all of a sudden you're not serving up a bagel with a side of angst.

So I'm thinking these totally rational thoughts (and by "totally rational" I mean "crazy, oh so crazy") when the realization pops into my head that if the cream cheese were replaced by peanut butter, it would be a whole different ballgame. And then my head melted a little because a: this is how I will finally come to the realization that my perception of any given situation can be changed from negative to positive by changing one small thing? and b: I had an epiphany while raging against fucking cream cheese?

I am nothing if not deep, yo.

In other news: I am very sleep deprived; I accidentally hit myself in the nose hard enough to make it bleed (it's a long story); work is kicking my ass; Wolfgang has decided to punish us for going on holiday by pretending that he is no longer housebroken; and Shawn has been sick since we got home. Fun times.

It's Paradise Here Where The Sun Meets The Sea

We're home. The resort was beautiful. We had an awesome time. My brain is tired. I'd write more but there are some cuddly puppies demanding my attention. 

I Knew That To Keep In Touch Would Do Me Deep In Dutch

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

Today is Shawn's 31st birthday. Happy Birthday, dude!

I'm spreading my bloggy love on Angella today for a few reasons. For starters, she's effing awesome. She's also the only person I know through blogging who I have met in real life. Angella was our wedding photographer and did a fabulous job. When we were figuring out some wedding stuff, we realized that Angella's maiden name is the same as Shawn's last name. I love stuff like that so today, on Shawn's birthday, I will tell you why I love reading Dutch Blitz (besides the obvious reason that Angella totally understands my angst with the double L.)

The main reason I enjoy Angella's writing so much is that she writes honestly. Whether it's a heartfelt post about her family or her body issues, or a funny post about the meaning of her name, Angella's sincerity shines through. Plus she has really cute kids.

A while back, Angella did a series called Foto Friday, intended for people who want to explore the manual functions of their camera. I'm still very much dependent on my auto function but sometimes, when I'm feeling inspired, I read one of Angella's posts and give it a go. She doesn't claim to be an expert but she does give clear, concise instructions for ignorant camera users like myself.

So head on over to Dutch Blitz and take a gander (just don't tell Angella how busy she must be with three young kids or she will punch you in the ear.) (Okay that's a lie, Angella is probably too nice to punch you in the ear. She will grit her teeth at you though.)

Just An Old Sweet Song Keeps Georgia On My Mind

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

Georgia created the McNuggitini. Do I need to continue or do you already love her as much as I do? Because that's all it took for me.

Fine, fine. Georgia does have other admirable qualities. She dresses really well and has great hair. She's a damn fine writer. She stands up for herself against evil landlords. She has an awesome series called Domestic Tuesdays where she documents her cooking extravaganzas.

She describes her blog as being a "nice balance of self-deprecation with self-reflection, with a healthy helping of the absurd" - I could not put it any better than that.

Like A Lemon To A Lime A Lime To A Lemon

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

Lemon Gloria's blog name is a variation of her porn name. This alone made me love her. (And made me very jealous that I didn't think of it first. Two L's Please could have been Smudgie Chateau. If only.)

Lisa makes me laugh my ass off or breaks my heart. Reading her blog, you get the feeling that she feels big (not size-wise, dumbasses, I know better than to insult a pregnant lady); she loves big, she hurts big, she fears big. If I had to describe her writing in one word, it would be "raw." I don't mean raw as in rough or crude (though she does swear like a sailor) or unrefined. I mean raw emotion, raw humour, raw feeling. (The word raw has just lost meaning to me. Does that happen to you? You type or say a word too many times and then all of a sudden you're all "Huh. That looks funny. What does that mean?")

Further proof that Lemon Gloria is fucking fabulous:

I feel like I understand her crazy, as much as anyone can really understand another person's crazy. And when I emailed her to tell her how much of a creepy fanboy I am? She didn't run away in fear.

While wedding planning last year, she had to deal with some "fuckity fucks." Her revenge? Peeing in an out-of-the-way corner of the uppity historical venue. Okay that's a lie. She didn't pee in a corner but she did think about peeing in a corner and she blogged about it. And that's the important thing, right? Blogging about outrageous things to make your readers laugh?

She thinks that babies should be hatched from eggs instead of pushed out of ladies' fancy parts.

She believes there is no such thing as too much cheese.

And my personal favourite; she called her unborn son an asshole. And meant it.

Dear Lisa,
You are hilarious. That is all.
Love Hillary

And When My Mirror Speaks It Never Minces Words

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

I can't remember how I found Nilsa but I do remember feeling that instant bloggy-connection. You know the one, where you're reading a blog and you feel like you're reading an email from a friend. Nilsa recently moved to SoMi Speaks. I have to say, the old design was nice but the new blog looks fantastic.

Nilsa is intelligent and opinionated and, maybe most importantly, diplomatic. I enjoy reading her writing because she has strong opinions on a variety of topics but presents them in a way that no one ends up feeling ostracized. There have been times that Nilsa has disagreed with me and she let me know in a way that didn't make me feel attacked or judged. It is so refreshing to encounter someone who will tell you why she doesn't agree with you without telling you that you're wrong or that you need to feel or think a different way.

Nilsa's blog is a mix of family stuff and exercise stuff and life stuff and friend stuff ... and just stuff stuff. I can not label Somi Speaks as a certain "type" of blog. Nilsa writes about a little bit of everything.

Plus she's a dog person so that alone makes me love her.

Born On The Cusp In The Month Of November

I am busy drinking too much and sunning myself in the Dominican Republic this week. Internet access is sparse and let's be honest, any time I spend on the internet is reserved for harassing my mom and Shawn's mom for puppy updates. Sooo ... in lieu of guest posters (because clearly I am not cool enough for guest posters) I have written about the bloggers I love and set my blog to post a new one daily. We all know that technology is not my strong point so I'm hoping I don't come home to find that my blog has imploded. Have a great week, peeps!

Mermanda at Cusp of Normal

How do I love Mermanda? Let me count the ways.

Mermanda and I are both Thanksgiving babies. We may live in different countries and think that the other spells "favourite" incorrectly (for the record, Mermanda spells it incorrectly) but we are united by our love for blowing out birthday candles on pumpkin pie rather than birthday cake.

Mermanda can make normal household items look like balls. She is engaged to a man who not only makes cooking videos, he also tries to make her drink poop water. Speaking of being engaged, when Andrew proposed, Mermanda had a mullet! How can you not love this lady?

Mermanda makes me laugh with her theories on Candy Standardization and monocles. I can't link to them because they're not posts but I can copy & paste (like a boss!)

*disclaimer* I am not plagiarizing Mermanda. These are her words. Her wit. Her craziness. I can only hope that one day I will be as funny as her. Oh and we were talking about the difference between Canadian Smarties (the real Smarties) and American smarties (ROCKETS!)

" Why does Canada and the U.S. have to make things so damn difficult by renaming candy? If you elect me as President of the North American Union, I promise to make candy standardized from the tippy top of Canada to the bottomest part of Mexico. Never again will you have to
wonder "Which Smarties is she talking about?"

Also, I'll name you Treasury of Monocles.

Elect me. Amanda.

Paid for by Citizens For Candy Standardization."

In conclusion, you should all head over and love all up on Mermanda. Thank you.

Yeah We Slow Hands

Turtle made me watch this video last night. I was really stressed and had a million things to do and honestly, was a little annoyed that she was so insistent that I watch it. So I grumbled a little and sat down to watch it and then I died a little inside because the cuteness! It kills!



I must have one. Shawn said he'd divorce me but whatever, who needs a husband when you have a slow loris?

They Left Us Alone In The Maelstrom As You Can See We're All Clearly Alive

We found out Friday night that the wedding is back on and we leave for the Dominican Republic this weekend. The news set off a celebration from Shawn and his brother and a maelstrom of activity from yours truly.

On one hand I was very pleased to know that in a week I would be in the sun, my most taxing decision being which tropical cocktail to enjoy next. On the other hand, I was fretting about everything that needed to be done before we left. Stuff that I had put on the back burner when the Mexican holiday was cancelled: picking up a new box of contacts, getting my birth control prescription renewed, changing Canadian money into US dollars. Important things that can't be put off until we return.

And now it's Tuesday and I have yet to complete any of my Imperative Tasks. Instead of checking items off my list, I keep adding to it: arrange transportation to the airport now that the flight time has changed and we need to be at the airport at 4am; buy dog food so the pups don't starve while we're away; host Mother's Day dinner because if we don't celebrate Mother's Day before we leave, the next time our entire family can be together is mid June.

On top of all that, I woke up this morning feeling like shite. I think I have a bladder infection. I was planning to go to the walk-in clinic today anyway (birth control prescription) so I'll hopefully be able to get some antibiotics to clear it up. I just don't want to deal with it.

I really don't mean to sound so complainy. I'm ridiculously excited to have a week off work. I went out and bought five new books this weekend to take with me (I have my priorities straight, ha.) I am loading up my ipod with various summer-fun-time playlists. I have stopped fretting about the size of my thighs (though I'm pretty sure the fretting will restart when I actually have to be in a bikini.) The next few days will be madness but after that? Bliss. Pure sunshiney bliss.

Carbon's Anniversary The Parting Of The Sensory - 8 & 9

Dear Shawn,

Happy 9th Monthiversary!

I skipped writing an 8th Monthiversary post because I felt very stabby toward you during our 8th month of marriage. You started your new job and you hated it and it made you very difficult to live with. My job continued to grow more and more stressful and it made me very difficult to live with. And on top off all that, Wolfgang had surgery (I know it was routine surgery but that didn't stop me from fretting my fool head off) and you started your own audio video design / installation company. So. We kind of hated each other for a while there. Not true hate, mind you, but that horrible angsty hate where you're so mad at the other person but you still love them to bits and it eats you up inside because you don't want to feel bad for the jerkface who made you cry, you want to punch them in the ear. I'm happy to report that no ears were punched in our 8th month of marriage (I call that success!) I'm also happy to report that things have settled down somewhat. Life is still crazy (because it always is and you knew that before you married me so quit yer belly achin') but it's the good kind of crazy. The kind of crazy where we drink too much rum one night and end up playing rock-paper-scissors at 6am the next morning when the pups need to be let out and neither one of us feels able to stand up without vomiting. Good times.

Love you, dude.

Yes, I'm Gonna Burn One Down

Friday Faff: Haiku Edition

Canucks, you scared me
last night. Giving up a three
goal lead in the third?

Not cool, Luongo.
Good thing Salo managed to
score a big goal. Yay!

One game down, three more
to go. Chicago won't know
what hit them. Go 'Nucks!

* * * * *

We will find out soon
if the wedding is still on
or if it's cancelled.

The Dominican
Republic is possible.
Or maybe Cuba.

I find myself way
too interested in what
the newscasters say.

Swine flu is not swine
flu? H1N1 Virus?
Is this important?

A flu by any
other name would suck as hard.
Call it what it is.

* * * * *

These are not Smarties.
Those are called Rockets. Believe
me, I know candy.