Whatever This Is Oh Baby I've Had Enough

My attempt at a productive weekend was derailed by the giant bowl (I don't own a pitcher) of sangria I made Friday night. I'd not made sangria before; as it turns out, I make very yummy (very strong) sangria.

Sangria holds a special place in my family's history after one particular summer evening with a large amount of sangria-soaked fruit and my afraid-of-water mother and a midnight swimming experience. I should know better than to drink sangria during a weekend of Getting Things Accomplished is what I'm saying.

Friday night quickly morphed from earnest discussions with Shawn about the things we would get done and how to maximize our time, to earnest discussions about which cheese we should melt on top of the garlic bread we were having for dinner (not as a side dish, no. Garlic bread was the main, and only, course.)

And then it was Saturday morning and my head felt funny and my breath was stinky and my list had disappeared.

Without my list it was very easy to pretend that items like "scrub the little circle of rust off the bathroom tile" had actually been "make a giant batch of chocolate chip cookies" and "reduce the number of condiments on the fridge door by at least 50%" had been "eat an inappropriate number of chocolate chip cookies."

It was all fine until Sunday afternoon when I realized that, oh shit, I actually did have deadlines to meet and promises to fulfil. So I whipped out my textbook in an attempt to cross "finish Chapter 7 reading, lazyass!" off my list.

But Wolfgang's inability to see an empty lap without needing to fill it meant that my study time quickly became puppy nap time.

My weekend of epic productivity was more like a weekend of epic avoidance and denial (and chocolate chips.) I've got a 4-day weekend coming up (whoo Canada Day!) so hopefully the extra days will make my redo more successful.

Give Me Little Bits Of More Than I Can Take

Someone came home from band practice very late last night and someone else thought it was an intruder coming into the bedroom very late last night and let's just say that I am not so much a fan of Shawn and Wolfgang today.

So! Random sleepy thoughts it is.

* * * * *

I need new running shoes. My running shoe purchases have always been determined by which running shoes were on sale. I have made it my summer goal to get back into running but first I need new shoes (my current running shoes are about three years old and are puppy-chewed around the edges.) Which running shoes should I buy? I overpronate like a motherfucker and have narrow-ish feet. Also, I am unwilling to spend more than $200 on running shoes.

* * * * *

Shawn is playing a show this Saturday at the Shark Club. If you're in Vancouver you should come and say hi. I will be the drunk one. Shawn will be the one who looks like this:

yummy

* * * * *

When I lived in England, two very lovely ladies went out of their way to befriend me and make England feel like home. We don't see each other often enough (May 2007 was the last time I saw them) but I love them to bits. One was due with her second child last Saturday and the other is due with her second child this Saturday and I am pretty much busting with excitement and joy. I hope (fingers crossed, knock on wood, and all that jazz) to be able to munch on their wee babies' cheeks sometime next year.

(Speaking of babies, sweet Nilsa has some happy baby news!)

* * * * *

I recently purchased the Camera+ app for my iPhone. I'm in love. If you take photos with your iPhone, you need this app. I often miss the pups being cute because by the time I get my camera they've morphed back into little monsters. My iPhone lets me capture the cuteness and Camera+ helps me edit the pictures. Love it.

love her

him? not so much

* * * * *

After being bounced from doctor to neurologist to sleep specialist, I am seeing a respiratory therapist tomorrow to try to figure out my seizure thing. I'd like to say that I'm optimistic but the truth is that I've been grumbly and blue all week. I've decided that I am going to reward myself for going to the appointment (like a grownup *sigh*) with a new cookbook. I don't know which cookbook, though, so I need some suggestions. Do you have a cookbook that rocks your world with its awesomeness?

Nobody Said It Was Easy No One Ever Said It Would Be So Hard

Friday Faff: I Just Realized That It's Not Friday Edition

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Dudes. Dudes! Thank you all for being rockstars. When I get tangled up in my own head I tend to forget that I'm not the only person who feels this way. Anxiety can be so solitary, you know? Thanks for reminding me that we're all a bit crazy. I tried to respond to each comment but a few were "noreply-comment@blogger.com" so if you didn't get a reply from me: Thank you! You rock! Change your account settings so people can respond to your comments!

* * * * *

Chicago eliminated Nashville from the Stanley Cup playoffs this week so Vancouver and Chicago are headed for a round two match up. I'd like to be excited but I'm too stressed. The Canucks played the Hawks in round two last year and the result was devastating. I'm trying to get into the spirit this year but the harshest smacktalk I can muster is "watch out Chicago, we're so going to ... rematch you. We're going to rematch you so hard. You should just quit now because when we're through rematching you there will be nothing left." Weak, I know. I've been a Canucks fan for too long; I've grown to expect disappointment.

* * * * *

This morning I was listening to my iPod on shuffle when a song came on that I haven't listened to in years. It took my breath away. One minute I'm on the train trying not to stab the kid across from me who is playing a video game with the volume loud enough that I can hear it over my music (seriously, rush hour public transportation etiquette exists for a reason and if you refuse to abide by said etiquette, I reserve the right to stab you) and then all of a sudden I'm flooded by memories of my ex-boyfriend. Not good memories, either. Horrible, twisty memories of lying in his bed, listening to this song on repeat because he can't sleep without music playing softly, not sleeping because how can I sleep when our relationship (which at the time is my whole world (barf, I know)) is ending? This song represents a painful time in my life and I should probably just take it off my iPod completely but it really is a lovely song (The Scientist by Coldplay, in case anyone is wondering.) I'm always surprised when music affects me so deeply because usually scent is the sense that knocks me on my ass (whenever I smell the ex-boyfriend's cologne it's like a punch to the gut.)

I'm taking my iPod off shuffle is what I'm trying to say.

* * * * *

Shawn and I have decided to upgrade to a king-sized bed. Our tiny bedroom doesn't really have space for a king-sized bed but we're not wee people (he is 6'3" and I am 5'8") so we're going to try to make it work. We need to get rid of a dresser to make room for the bed so we're hoping to find a bed with drawers in the base. So far we've only been able to find queen-sized beds with storage underneath; does anyone know of a kind-sized bed with drawers? We're pretty specific in what we need so I'm worried that we won't be able to find anything that suits us. Our dream bed is king-sized, has drawers in the base, doesn't cost a lot of money, and is low to the ground so I don't hurt myself when I fall out of bed or sleepwalk. Someone please tell me that this bed exists.

Glaciers Melting In The Dead Of Night And The Superstars Sucked Into The Supermassive Supermassive Black Hole

I have been feeling blue all week. It takes a lot of energy to feel sorry for oneself for consecutive days, I have discovered. This morning I woke up and just ... couldn't do it. I couldn't maintain the funk. I'm not a morning person - at all - but I felt almost cheery as I got ready for work. The idiot puppies helped, of course. They fucking vibrate with exuberance every single morning. It's like they weren't sure that we were going to wake up and the fact that we did wake up and fed them breakfast is cause for major celebration.

My new necklace also helped my mood. I mean, look at it:

It's a moosetash!


Nilsa brought it to my attention last week after Christyn added it to her shop. I had an awesome etsy experience with Bead Up (I would just like to clarify that Bead Up was not the etsy seller causing me unnecessary angst) and I fully recommend you check out her other items. Or you could all buy mooooostash necklaces and we can form some sort of mooosetash mafia. Let's do this.

Also contributing to my awesome mood? Tonight is the Muse concert. I have loved Muse for a long time but have never managed to see them live. To say that I am ridiculously excited is an understatement.

And to top off my day of awesomeness, tomorrow is a stat holiday so today is my Friday, which means that I get to pick a winner of the mooooosetash cupcake toppers today (spreading the mustache love brings me great joy.) This winner is .... (trying to figure out how to screen grab my results from random.org on a fucking PC ... not happening) Katelin!

Happy Thursday, peeps! I hope everyone has a fabulous 3-day weekend (and if you are one of the lucky ones who gets a 4-day weekend, I hope it rains where you live. Sorry!)

And Somehow In All The Madness I Thought That I was Seeing Straight It Ain't Always Pretty But It Seemed There Was No Other Way

I am having a spectacularly rotten day today. I keep thinking that things can only improve; Monday keeps proving me wrong. So far I have cried in my doctor's office (because instead of the mean doctor I got the kind doctor and she was so lovely and nice to me and I was feeling so horrid that I cried), at the lab after my blood test (because the technician was a bit evil and I bled for five minutes after she mangled my vein), and three times in the bathroom at work (because I just want to be at home in bed.) I'm not usually a crier. I'm more of a get mad and rant and rave and swear til I'm blue in the face-er. Today I am a weepy, snuffly mess. It is ridiculous.

At some point it will get better. I know this. It's just ... right now I'm alternating between feeling sorry for myself and feeling angry at myself for being such a whiny mess. Fun times, right?

This is where you come in, peeps. Tell me about your own terrible, horrible, no good, very bad day to remind me that I've actually got it pretty good. Everyone who comments is entered to win these silly mustache cupcake toppers from my etsy shop.


Winner will be announced on Friday (and will likely be chosen by random.org because picking a winner makes me anxious.)

So I Hid My Soiled Hands Behind My Back Somewhere Along The line I Must've Gone Off Track With You

In the last few days I have been an inconsiderate ass both on and off the internet. It makes my heart ache to know that I have caused hurt feelings or bruised egos or frustration. Knowing that someone I care about is vexed because of me makes me want to shrivel up and hide in a dark hole. It doesn't matter that my intent was in no way malicious, I am still angry at myself for my thoughtless blunders. It's silly; I carry around the guilt and negativity long after I've apologized and been forgiven. It's neither healthy nor productive yet here I am, feeling sad and blue and worthless.

* * *

This morning Shawn was driving on the highway behind a garbage truck when a large piece of metal flew out of the back of the truck and hit our car. Shawn is okay (which is all that matters in this situation) but our car is not. Literally last night we had a discussion about how money is a bit tight this month due to vet bills and our upcoming property tax bill.

* * *

Today is not a good day but I can't help but smile when I watch this video. I don't know much about Chatroulette and I'm not interested in finding out more (I feel like there is probably a lot of naked man junk floating around) but it makes me happy that there are people like Merton out there making the world a funnier place.

When I See The Apple In Disguise Oh My Love I Can Recognize

My new iPhone was activated yesterday and I am already smitten. It does so much! I am overwhelmed by the possibilities. I'm still unsure about my ability to use the iPhone (she remains nameless until I determine her personality) without dropping it into a mug of coffee, though, so my first priority is to get a protective case to (hopefully) negate any damage I may inflict. There are so many cases out there; I need help choosing the best one. What case do you use? Do you love it / hate it for any particular reason? Did you purchase the Apple Protection Plan? Would you recommend that I buy it? (Please keep in mind that I had my blackberry for a year and I managed to drop it in a mug of coffee, drench it in alfredo sauce, drop it down a flight of concrete stairs, etc.)

As for the fun stuff, what apps do you suggest?

I am an iPhone rookie, peeps. I need all the help I can get.

Your Ex-Girlfriend Had A Boyfriend Who Kissed My Girlfriend

The most energy I have expended in the last week is the energy it takes to walk from my bed to the kitchen and back. I have been sick. Disgustingly sick. I-want-to-die-a-little sick. Today was the first day that I felt almost human. Not human enough to shower but human enough to drive to the giant, soulless megastore (which I hate but bathroom cleaner, breakfast cereal, gum, hair dye, and feminine hygiene products are at least 50% cheaper there than at our grocery store.)

It's Saturday night. I haven't showered since ... yesterday? Maybe? My hair was gross so I pulled it back into a ponytail. I grabbed whatever clothes were in the pile beside my bed and got dressed. My outfit consisted of jeans that I had to roll up because they dragged on the floor because I usually wear them with 3-inch heels. Canvas flats that are covered in cartoonish owls (they sound cute. They aren't. But they are comfortable.) A tank top that I've been wearing as a pyjama top for a shameful amount of days (with no bra on underneath, obviously) and a bright orange hoodie. I think it goes without saying that I was not wearing makeup.

So I head to the feminine hygiene product aisle where I have a bit of a crisis. My brand is massively on sale so of course it's sold out. I don't have a backup brand so I decide to buy a variety of brands to pick a reliable backup so I will never again have a feminine hygiene product crisis. I load up on three boxes of assorted ladybits products and head towards the cereal aisle.

Where I run into one of my ex-boyfriends ... or his identical twin brother. I honestly don't know which guy it was (which, yes, I know, makes me look a bit bad but in my defense, when I dated the guy I could always tell which one was which AND I dated him a million years ago so let's not get too judgey, okay?)

So we're awkwardly making small talk and he asks what I'm doing in the giant, soulless megastore on a Saturday night and I make a comment about how I'm sick and just stocking up on the essentials. At which point he looks in my basket. My basket of assorted lady products AND NOTHING ELSE.

It was awesome.

Even more awesome was when he craned his neck to look around me and into my basket again as he told me about this vapour mask thingy that his mom is using because she's really sick right now and the mask really works and I should pick one up. At which point I may have become really shrill as I told him it was really nice running into him and I had to go and take care and byeeeee as I ran into the nearest aisle. Which just happened to be the cat food aisle. Because nothing says "I've grown since dating you (or your brother) and I'm a mature adult with an enviable life" like buying tampons and cat food on a Saturday night.

Our Watchword Evermore Shall Be The Maple Leaf Forever

I had a low-key weekend planned.

And then Friday evening I got an email from Robin, inviting me to go to the closing ceremonies with her on Sunday. And then Saturday I started getting sick. And then I spent early Sunday morning in the emergency room because I couldn't breathe. And then I went to the pub to watch the gold medal hockey game.

And then I fought my way through the sea of hockey-crazed fans to BC Place to meet up with Robin.

Being at the closing ceremonies is something I'll never forget. The atmosphere, the energy, the performances - they all contributed to an amazing night. I even appreciated the Nickelback performance, if only for a much-needed bathroom break.

And now I'm stuck in bed with the black lung. I can't remember ever being this sick. I should have stayed home on Sunday instead of going to the pub and the closing ceremonies but they both seemed like once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. I had an amazing weekend; I don't really have the words to describe it. Or the energy. So ... pictures!

People Pushing Through Their Mittens As I Was Beginning To Feel It Soaking Through My Shoes

I woke up this morning to grey skies and rain. I got drenched on the way to work (umbrellas are for wusses! Or, you know, people who forget their umbrellas at work.) Now the sun is out and the sky is blue. I can't take this weather limbo! Either be winter or be summer. Actually, just be summer.

* * * * *

Shawn is on Twitter. His plan of going back to school was derailed by our mutual love of our dual-income lifestyle so his new plan consists of (finally) finishing his album, getting a website, and selling said album on said website. My new plan consists of making him use Twitter and Facebook to reach more people. So if you're on Twitter you should probably follow him. He's pretty funny. And he says "balls" a lot (just ask my family members; every one of them have received a birthday or holiday card at some point with a random "BALLS!" written in it by Shawn.)

* * * * *

Have you heard of the Olympic red mittens? They're kind of a big deal. I've got a pair but only because my mom snagged a bunch a few months ago.

Day 25 of my month of photos:

This statue of Robert Burns stands across from the Vancouver Rowing Club in Stanley Park. It's a little difficult to see because the photo is small, but a pair of Olympic red mittens hangs around his neck.

We'll Order Water Torture Sauce And Economics

Dear Issue that is Making me Wobbly,

Please sort yourself out. You're making me twitchy and unpleasant to live with. I don't think Shawn can handle another incident like last night when that jar of alfredo sauce shattered and I had a complete meltdown.

Sincerely,
The One Rocking Back and Forth and Crying

* * * * *

Dear Grocery Bag that I Dropped on the Concrete Ground of the Parkade

Why did you have to be the bag that I shoved my wallet and blackberry into to free up hand space so I could carry more groceries? Why did you also have to be the bag containing the aforementioned jar of alfredo sauce? Were you jealous because the other grocery bags were full to the brim of lovely tasty groceries and you were the last bag I packed so you only got to carry a few random items? I hope you like your new home ... the garbage. I don't care how reusable you are, jerkface.

Regards,
The One Who May Have Been a Tad Aggressive as She Threw You Out

* * * * *

Dear Stella,

Alfredo sauce is not for puppies!

Love,
The One Who Doesn't Want to Clean Up Your Alfredo Vomit

* * * * *

Dearest Blackberry,

Thank you for working again after I dismantled you and cleaned alfredo sauce out of your every crevice with a q-tip. Now if you could just stop smelling like alfredo sauce we could go back to being friends.

Love,
The One Who Gags Every Time She Answers a Call

These Are My Confessions

Neither Shawn nor I have ever cleaned our oven. We moved into our condo over two years ago. There is a patch of black sludge at the bottom. Our smoke alarm randomly goes off when we use it. The oven remains uncleaned.

December 16th was the last time I went to karate. At first I could justify it: the dojo was closed over Christmas and then I had my surgery. Now? Now I'm just lazy. And fat.

I am obsessed with well-groomed eyebrows, mainly because I have no idea how to make mine pretty. I pluck out the unibrowy bits but my brows never look awesome. If I see someone with great eyebrows, I stare. Inappropriately. Like, if I'm talking to someone with great eyebrows I will be unable to maintain eye contact because I'm entranced by their brows. Someone, please, put me out of my misery. How do I get great brows? I've tried having them waxed and threaded; I was not impressed by either and not just because it was ouchie.

I shout at the television when I watch hockey.

Music is a huge part of my life. I listen to music every day. I love listening to my favourite bands but I also love discovering new music to love. I love making playlists for myself (I have playlists for dog-walking, cleaning, commuting, driving - trips under an hour in length and trips over an hour in length, etc.) I love making mixes for my friends. I do not love live shows. I feel like a music failure, like I'm not fully supporting the artists I love because I don't go to their live shows. I used to love going to shows but my anxiety and hatred of large crowds has prevented me from going to any in the last few years. This will all change in April when I go see Muse perform. I'm putting it on the internet so I can't change my mind. I love Muse, I've never seen them live, Shawn and I have ground floor seats = I am going to that show no matter what.

I cannot spell tomorrow without spellcheck. I always double the m. Shame.

I think it's disgusting that Shawn puts jam on his grilled cheese sandwich but I think it's completely normal that I put pickles in my peanut butter sandwich.

Alright peeps, this is a safe place; what are your confessions?

And As For You In Your Uniform Your Smelly Uniform You Think You Can Be Rude To Me

I received a basket of assorted bath and beauty products for Christmas. It was a very sweet gift. The products are all of the stress-relievey variety. The company that makes the products uses only fresh, organic, vegetarian ingredients, doesn't participate in animal testing, and uses packaging that is deliciously sparse. It's a company I feel good about supporting is what I'm saying.

That being said, I've not bought anything from this particular company before because every time I walk by one of their shops my eyes start to water and it gets a bit difficult to breathe. To say that they are fans of fragrance would be putting it mildly. I've only been inside one of their shops once and it was a very short visit due to the headache that started as soon as I walked inside.

Admittedly, I am a bit sensitive to fragrances. I don't wear perfume and I tend to buy unscented products when I can. I'm not anti-fragrance; I love the smell of lemons, coffee, vanilla, sandalwood ... just not blended together into unidentifiable combinations. (I feel I should point out (before Turtle does) that I have been guilty of perfume crimes in the past. Most notably, my high school years where my perfume of choice was undiluted vanilla essential oil. It was overbearing and unfortunate and obnoxious and I'm sorry.)

I would just give the smelly products away but the gift was from Shawn and I know he'll be hurt if I do. So I broke out the gift basket this morning and selected a very pink, very shimmery, very fragrant shower jelly. I think it was called "sugar plum" or some such nonsense. I can't tell you what it smelled like. Very sweet. Kind of fruity. More candy-fruity than real-fruity though. Basically, they managed to make natural ingredients smell artificial.

So I was in the shower feeling all stabby because I smell like a freaking sugar plum and I started thinking about the perfect perfume. I dislike most floral scents so those are definitely out. I'm a fan of herbal scents - rosemary and lavender top my list - but I don't want to smell like dinner. Citrus fruits make me happy but they're used predominantly in cleaning products. I don't want to smell like toilet cleaner any more than I want to smell like a sugar plum.

And then it hit me. My dream perfume is ... earl grey tea with cream and a touch of lavender honey. Now I just need to find it.

What's your favourite smell?

The Licence Plate Said Fresh And It Had Dice In The Mirror

I had a follow-up appointment with my neurologist today. He's fairly confident that I've got a sleep disorder so he's put me on a waiting list for a sleep study. He also reinstated my driving privileges, which is a huge relief. I don't need to drive because we live (and I work) on a transit line but not having my driver's licence was very inconvenient at times. To be honest, I ended up driving whenever I really needed to go somewhere but I spent a lot of time and energy fretting that I'd be pulled over and penalized. It wasn't worth it. Now I don't have to worry; I can drive whenever and wherever I want. It's like I'm the 16-year old, newly-licenced Hillary all over again. I feel like I should go celebrate with some wine coolers in my parents' basement or something.

I Can See So Far With My Poison Eye

I didn't expect the air freshener debate to be so divided (team Vanilla Tiger!) The only solution, obviously, is to buy both.

* * * * *

I broke a board last night. With my force. First, though, I punched it and it did not break. Then I cried because, holy fuck do you know how much it hurts to punch a board as hard as you can? A lot. I ended up breaking it with an axe kick. Yeah, I do stuff like axe kicks. I'm pretty much the badassest (totally a word - don't question me, I will axe kick you) blogger around.

* * * * *

I bought my turkey a few nights ago. I couldn't find a fresh turkey so I had to buy a frozen one. I suspect that I couldn't find a fresh one because I refused to go to the butcher shop (so expensive! so ... meaty!) I moved the turkey from the freezer to the fridge today to start defrosting but I ran into a bit of a dilemma ... do you unwrap the turkey to defrost it? It's in some sort of turkey condom right now, which I like because it's keeping all the scary turkey germs from flying around the inside of my fridge, but I'm afraid that if I don't unwrap it I will end up with a still-frozen turkey on Sunday morning when I go to cook it. Suggestions? Advice? Offers to come cook my turkey? All welcome!

* * * * *

I am having laser eye surgery in 11 days. I booked it months ago but I didn't blog about it because I was fairly certain that I would back out like the giant scaredy pants that I am. I'm past the point of being able to get my $400 deposit back, though, so I need to tell as many people about the surgery as possible so I will feel like a wiener if I back out. Dudes, if I do not blog about my successful laser eye surgery on December 29th, I fully expect you all to call me names and put me in the shame corner.

* * * * *

Georgia is a fucking rockstar. Head over to her blog today and give her a high five, please and thanks!

His Smile's Your Rope So Wrap It Tight Around Your Throat

I had a fabulous weekend, running from one thing to the next; baby kisses here, tequila shots there, with no rest in between. Instead of paring down my weekend's festivities when I started to feel overwhelmed, I added to the craziness whenever a new opportunity arose. When Shawn called at 6 on Saturday evening and said he'd been invited to play a show, I didn't tell him that I was hungover and in my pyjamas and attempting to motivate myself to do my accounting homework. I got dressed and went to the shady bar and held the video camera while simultaneously keeping a death grip on my bag because it seemed like the sort of place where muggings are not uncommon.

(The audio will not sync with the video and I cannot be arsed to sort it out. Sorry.)

(Shawn's playing the bass.)

My body protested when I forced it out into the cold on Sunday, almost as loudly as Robin protested when I forced her to attend the BlogHer Holiday party with me. I can't meet lovely, sparkly people on my own though (especially when I am hungover and so far from sparkly that I cannot even muster a single twinkle,) so she agreed to be my wingwoman. The party was lovely and everyone I spoke to was wonderful and I will definitely be returning to Tempest.

I'm paying for my fantastic weekend now, as I lie in bed dying of the Throat of Doom. I don't want to be home from work; I'm actually feeling quite twitchy as I picture the mounds of paperwork piling up. I'm determined to be better by tomorrow so I can get caught up. I'm meeting Kyla on Thursday and I'll be anxious enough about that without worrying about invoices and germs too.

Twisted Diamond Heart I'm The Weekend Warrior

This weekend I will:

nibble on tiny little baby fingers when a good friend visits with her 7-month old bundle of love.

quell my ovaries' treacherous longing by spending time with her almost-3-year old bundle of piss and vinegar.

bake Angella's whipped shortbread (and hopefully whip up some Christmas spirit while I'm at it.)

finish the Christmas stockings I'm making for Shawn's and my stocking stuffer gift exchange.

set up an etsy shop so I can sell my moose-tash keychains.

party like a rockstar to celebrate a lovely lady's birthday.

recuperate from said partying with a Special Ladies' Christmas Brunch and Book Exchange (which is being held at my place. Tomorrow morning. Even though I have not yet cleaned my messy kitchen or bought any food. Eh, details.)

try not to spill anything on myself or swear too much at the Vancouver BlogHer Christmas party. If you're planning to be there, say hi! I will be the socially awkward one with bad hair.

What's on the agenda for your weekend?

If We Were Children I Would Bake You A Mud Pie

Things currently making my heart sing:

* * * * *

All of the sweet comments and emails you guys have sent regarding my last post. You are all rockstars. I hadn't written about the seizures because there wasn't much to say about it. It sucks. It's kind of scary. It's extremely inconvenient (my driver's licence has been suspended until I have a clear brain scan.) And it feels slightly less scary today after writing about it. Thank you for reminding me why I love blogging.

* * * * *

Fantastic Mr. Fox. I rarely go to the movies but last night Shawn convinced me to go see Fantastic Mr. Fox with him and a few friends. It blew my mind. I spent half the movie grinning like a fool, not because the movie was particularly funny but because it made me so happy.

* * * * *

One of my favourite feelings in the world: the clean sheets, clean pyjamas, clean Hillary amalgam. I am currently in bed after a brutal workout. I came home and put clean linens on the bed, took a hot shower, and put on my comfiest pyjamas. I am a happy bunny.

* * * * *

The Them Crooked Vultures album. Dudes. It rocks my effing world.

* * * * *

Ben's hatred of science.

* * * * *

What's putting a spring in your step and a smile on your face today?

We Have One Chance One Chance To Get Everything Right

I'm feeling a bit random today.

* * * * *

Robin gave Burt another chance and ... it went well. So well that they've got another date planned for this weekend. I reckon that Robin should start her own blog so she can keep us updated on the story (hint hint, Robin.)

* * * * *

I am excited for the Christmas card swap! I ordered some kickass Christmas cards in my attempt to love Christmas this year. They feature my puppies because, well, what else would I buy when it comes to Christmas cards? Peeps who left a comment saying they want to participate in the swap should email me their address at ninjahills at gmail dot com. I'll mix up the addresses and get them out the first week of December.

* * * * *

I love So You Think You Can Dance (though Mary Murphy's voice and the shrieking and the "woooooo"ing make my head melt.) Ryan and Ellenore's routine this week made me extra happy because they danced to a song by one of my favourite bands, Stars.

* * * * *

After months of having an assortment of red, orange, green, brown, and taupe paint chips taped to our bedroom walls, I have finally decided that I want to paint the bedroom blue and grey. Maybe.

* * * * *

Wolfgang is a fan of the facebook.

* * * * *

What bits of randomness are floating around your brain?

Gonna Find Myself A Duck And Legally Do Something Awful

Garfunkel and Oates (the same ladies who did Pregnant Women are Smug) made this video in response to Pat Robertson's comment that legalizing gay marriage would lead to sex with ducks.

Garfunkel and Oates make me smile.