Fall Dog Bombs The Moon

I'm over at Who's Your Dachshund today, spreading the crazy. 

Better Leave Her Behind Where The Kids Are Alright

I'm in Montreal right now, likely eating my weight in poutine. I'm posting here today; go check it out and find out why I shouldn't have kids.

Stella is enjoying the long weekend at Shawn's mom's house. Right about now she's probably sneaking up on Cleo (Shawn's mom's 10-year old whippet) and jumping on her back, ninja-style. That's how she rolls.

I'd Like To Make A Quick Toast

Mmmmmmmm kay? We've been in our new house for a month, maybe he's toasting that. Or maybe, he's just welcoming my cousin who had just arrived for a visit. Maybe he's toasting the new puppy who has been with us for two weeks? I had no idea but my Dad is very good at making toasts so I was looking forward to it. His toast for my graduation last fall actually provided a new name and direction for my blog, No Ordinary Rollercoaster.

So there we sat. The newf (my nontraditional significant other), my parents and brother, and our a few of our favourite relatives. I was mid-chew of a veggie burger, ketchup threatening to drool down the side of my face when he dropped this bomb:

"Today marks an entire year that Ben and the newf have been living together..."

Super. Who cares?

"...making them legally and officially...common-law married."

Whoooooooooooooooooooooooaaaaaaaaaaaaa now. The newf and I exchanged stunned looks. While we have talked about the prospects of having a big gay marriage someday and we're both very committed (a mortgage and two puppies will do that to the best of us) - you need to prepare a guy for the: "Guess what? YOU'RE MARRIED!" toast. At least with a wedding, there's so much build-up that by the time you get there, you're so sick of hearing about it that's it's more like, FINE. Just do the damn thing already! But common-law? That sneaks up on you. Oh - and it doesn't come with an open bar.

We went on with the evening with drinks all round but it wasn't until after the relatives left that I realized that the newf was drunk. This is generally a bad scene since he gets rude-funny when drinking. When there's no one else around? Yeah, it's basically just me and my own crowd of hecklers all in one person. But not this night...

"Let's have a first dance...like at a wedding..."

"Oh dear Jesus..."

"C'mooooooon..."

"You're drunk."

"I will be on our wedding night too so you better get over that."

"..."

"Yay! I'll get a song ready! How about I Hope You Dance? High-five for marriage!"

I chugged my beer in about three seconds flat to try to even the playing field and returned to the kitchen - I mean - our romantic dancefloor. I waited for "the song I'm going to sing to you at our real wedding". Please note: the newf is both tone-deaf and not tied down by things like rhythm, pace or lyrics. I knew it'd be better to just give him a dance and be done with it so I could go to bed at a decent hour.

The newf flashes a mischievous grin and presses play.

The first song? Disturbia, followed by I'm Too Sexy, The Naughty Song, Larger Than Life, and a series of random club bangers for just the two of us, drunk by ourselves, dancing in our kitchen on a Thursday night.

Yeah...I can be married to that.

Overthink My Fate Grasping A Pastel Jumper

Hi Readers of Hillary!

I’m OT from The Art of Over-Thinking. I consider Hillary to be one of my best blogging buddies so I’m thrilled to do a guest post for her while she’s out getting nuptialized and such.

I think I’m sort of the American version of Hillary. We have way too much in common, boarding on Twilight Zone-ish eeriness. One day we will meet in person (but we won’t “SQUEE!” because we’d have to mock ourselves if we did that). We’ll share our sarcastic personalities and become a force to be reckoned with at BlogHer ’09. I’ve given her strict orders to start looking frumpy so I don’t have to be the short, less-attractive one the entire time. And I’m bring my maple leaf hat (courtesy of Hills) because, duh.

Now for a bit of a rant. Because it’s what I do.

“And then I decided that summer is a bunch of crap…”

The Over-Thinker is pretty much over summer. And Fidgit is in the window.

Since leaving school a gajillion years ago, joining the year-round workforce, I've discovered that the idea of summer is no longer:

"Vacation-Relaxation-Time to Read & Write-Time to do some hardcore sleeping-in"

.....but moreover,

"June-August means nothing except for a rabidly crazy time period in the fiscal year known as some "quarter" so shoot me, shoot me, Ooo look! Sun!!, shoot me."

Each year, as June approaches, I start chasing the perfect summer---do any of you also do this? When May rolls around, I start to make my usual summer goals. These lofty goals usually involve leaving work-stuff at work, spending the weekend visiting with friends and family, going to baseball games, swimming, throwing cocktail parties and cooking buttloads (MMmm) of really good summery food. What ends up happening is usually some polar-opposite version of my goals and I end up all pissed and disgruntled, drinking rotten cooking wine while listening to the double-decibel roar of our air conditioner. AHHHhhhh summer....mine pretty much mimics one of those Country-Time Lemonade commercials. Except without all the happiness, outdoor activities and sunshine and with a higher intake of boxed-wine.

This "chasing-summer" thing is nothing new to me. Each June, I can remember my teenage self plotting a triumphant return to school in the fall because I'd envisioned a summer of working on a dark tan, losing ten pounds, going on an envious vacation and spending my baby-sitting moolah on totally necessary cosmetic purchases recommend by Seventeen magazine. Ya know, I was such a deep teenager. Nothing superficial at all. *gag*

I hate that it's August 2nd and I've sort of blown this summer, too. I suppose I could get a jump-start on plotting the disappointment that will be Summer '09. Have you all had a good summer? Any summeriness to share? Maybe I can just live vicariously through your days of sunshine and Country-Time lemonade :)