The Ice Queens' Dream Team

Here they are, the Ice Queens "Dream Team" -- we currently sit in 5th place, out of a possible 18, and one of our key players isn't even playing. Sergei, that's okay, we know you will come out with guns blazing by mid-season. We still love you.

To quote the most recent edition of our newsletter:

"Team Ice Queens is further proof that luck, not skill, plays the greater role in team selection. With only two criteria for team selection - the players must be cute, and the players must be air heads - Ice Queens hold down 8th place. [now we are in 5th -- take that!!!] Look for this team to be in trouble when their players all sign contracts to endorse men's perfumes, and quit hockey for good."

B. Shanahan

P. Sykora

T. Selanne

M. Ryder

A. Perezhogin

B. Morrow

Saku Koivu

Ed Jovanovski

Sergei Federov

M. Bell

Biting my tongue, and it hurts

Like it or not, we are all creatures of habit. I take the same bus in to work every morning, hit the Starbucks at Chapters on Robson for my 5 shot Venti Americano at pretty the same time every morning, and then make my way up the street to the office. Others are also on this "schedule" so the same group of us tend to congregate around the bar area of Starbucks awaiting our morning caffeinated beverage of choice. I am having a hard time keeping my mouth shut about something (shocking, I know) ---- a woman around my age complain each and every morning that she is just not loosing any weight. I am NOT one to comment on another's weight, as it is a VERY sensitive issue with me but this may just be the exception.

Now this woman is around my height, 5'9 or thereabouts, but probably outweighs me by at least 50 pounds and makes me feel quite petite. Each and every morning she orders a venti white mocha WITH WHIP. I went to the handy dandy Starbucks calorie counter and that little bevy weighs in at a whopping 650 calories! She has one of these mochas at least 5 times a week (that I know of). I don't care that she drinks them --- knock yourself out, baby. What bothers me is her constant whining about how she's not loosing any weight while drinking them.

No fucking kidding.

Sunshine and Light

So apparently I am supposed to be less negative at the workplace as I am a "role model" and people "look to me for direction" and "take their cues from me". And this is my problem because???? Also, they don't pay me near enough to be a bloody role model for the rabble.

Anyway, I am taking this opportunity to spew forth the bile and bitterness that has accumulated yesterday and today so that I will emit only sunshine and light here at work.

1. why are you still wearing white pants??? It's the fucking end of October for Chrissakes!!!! It's not even like it's a week or two past Labour Day --- Halloween is 6 sleeps away. I know that white is more acceptable these days out of season, but I do believe that this "rule" applies to winter white, more cream, and to textiles like wool and silk, NOT cotton and linen.

2. personal hygiene; I am a HUGE fan. Buy some deodorant, please. If you can't afford it, go to a shelter, they will give you some for FREE. Listen, you stink and I can't be anywhere near you without retching.

3. open toed shoes (see 1, above). If it's Saturday and not raining or snowing and you are at the beach or kicking round the coffee shop in loungewear, fine (sort of). But at work? With a suit? Or worse, nylons???????? 'nuff said

4. I don't care that you are a "foreign student". You are in Canada now. Get with the program.

5. I don't get paid enough to put up with your crap.

6. you are NOT more important than me. or anyone, for that matter. get over yourself.


Okay, sunshine and light for here on in ......

The Pink Birkin

So I could try and pretend that "stuff" really doesn't really mean all that much to me but that would really be ONE BIG FAT LIE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love nice things. And nice things tend to be expensive. As one person recently pointed out, I have champagne taste on a water budget (and tap water at that).

My latest obsession? The pink Hermes Birkin bag. (this means admitting of course that I watch the Gilmour Girls religiously, and I'm okay with that). It can be mine for a mere $29,500 (USD) on ebay. It will go fabulously with the Manolos I plan to one day own, at a far more reasonable $749.00 (CDN).

You see? Expense is all relative.

Maggie at Camp

My sister has taken Maggie with her to Camp Brakendale for the week, leaving me footloose and fancy free (though I miss the little monster). She called last night (my sister, not Maggie) with a report on her first full day.

Now my sister's dog, Trudy, is governed by food. However, she is also very lazy. Maggie, on the other hand, is far too clever for her own good and motivated by the challenge. My sister keeps Trudy's food in an old firewood box that has a hinged, not latched, lid. Trudy is well aware that that is where the food is kept, but not that she is very able to get at it whenever she chooses. This set up works for them.

Enter Maggie.

Last night my sister came home from work to find Maggie holding open the lid to the food box while Trudy was chowing down. Paula said the image was priceless, and was upset that she couldn't capture this true Kodak Moment.

The lid is now being weighted for the duration of the princess's stay.

Oh, and much do you think my vegan sister is enjoying feeding Maggie her nightly dinner of raw chicken carcass???

Train wreck, again

Yeah, so it seems I've dropped 10 pounds (1 and a bit dress sizes) in the last 2 weeks, can survive on 3 hours of sleep and night and need nothing more than 8 coffees a day and the occasional glass of wine to keep me alive. Oh, and I am jonesing for a cigarette like you wouldn't believe, but I WILL NOT give in to that temptation.

Why? Yup, that's right, the Non-Date.

We went to a wedding together yesterday --- an old friend of his second. We had a lovely time. I had a great outfit. He was the perfect date. He referred to us as "we" throughout --- as is "we'll have them over for dinner" and "we'll get together with them when I get back from holiday". It felt great. I felt confident and fabulous and all that stuff.

It was a noon wedding and so we left by 4. We then went for a long walk at the beach in the pouring rain (we changed out of the party clothes), then back to his place for tea, then he made us dinner and we talked and talked and talked about EVERYTHING except what I needed/wanted to talk about. There were a few opportune times when it would have been perfect to bring it up, but his ex-wife called 3 times. He asked me each time if I minded if he picked up. Of course not, it could be about the kids or something equally important. (it was the first time; the second and third were about stereo/video hookups). That weirded me out, so I backed off. He drove me home at 11.

I think I maybe got to sleep at 4 a.m., up at 7 and at the office by 8:30. I look like HELL.

Here's the thing: he is going to Mexico Wednesday morning for 2 weeks (the trip I am not going on). I thought I could wait until he got back to ask him where I/we/he stands. I can't. So, I emailed him about an hour ago to see if he had time for me at some point tonight. haven't heard. I feel like I am going to throw up.

When I am with him I am happy and content. When I am not, I am a raving lunatic. This is very new to me, the control and emotionally stunted freak that I am.

Happy, happy times in my life at the moment.

Fishing

Can someone please explain to me the fun in fishing for salmon while they are trying to get their tired asses up the river???

I get fishing in general. Really, I do. I don't eat the things, but whatever. What I don't get are the people who line the Capilano River during the spawning season trying to catch the suckers. Where is the sport in that? These fish are TIRED. And BEAT TO SHIT. Have you ever seen a salmon after it has made its way up a long river?? NOT PRETTY.

The whole thing kind of reminds me of the assholes who feed the deer all summer long in their backyards and the day hunting season opens, BAM! Dead. Nice.

Happy Friday!

Sea Monkey Photos part deux

okay, well here are the long-awaited photos of the creepy Sea Monkeys. You'll have to look real close, as they are pretty small and hard to capture with the camera we have at our disposal. I am also sad to report that the Sea Monkey population seems to have decreased markedly over the long weekend.

Those little white things floating around? That's them.

George and the monkeys

Up-close with the monkeys

That's the view from my, unfortunately, temporary office

That's it!

Sea Monkey Photos - the set up

Here are photos from the "creation" stage of the great SM adventure (to quote MM). Due to technical difficulties photos of the actual creepy critters won't be available until next week

preparing the water

the monkeys keep George (was Stroumboulopoulos, now Clooney) company

The Official Executive Sea Monkey Kit

(pretty fancy, dontcha think??)

Now, wasn't that worth the wait?????

Les Singes du Mer*

I don't know about you all, but the mythical seamonkeys have always intrigued me, so just imagine my glee when I found the Executive Sea Monkey kit kicking around the office! After careful reading of instructions, a quick email to the all-knowing MM who subsequently directed me here, I was set to go --- just add water ....

For the first few days, NOTHING. We watched, and watched and then watched some more. Otherwise highly intelligent people dropped by with increasing frequency to check on the little guys. NADA. The I took a day off from work and voila, they live!!

The first week of life was really weird. There seemed to be hundreds of them and they moved about the "tank" in what appeared to be computer-animated rigidity. We established our feeding schedule, Monday mornings, and watched them grow.

And grow they did.

And cannibalize they did.

There are now markedly fewer than when we started, but those that remain are growing rapidly. And now they look weird. And creepy. And kind of gross, to be honest. But still they grow. And still they attack visitors. In light of the increased traffic through my office I have updated the George Clooney photo (currently using the one from the cover of Vogue, Men's edition). This has been noted and appreciated.

I tried taking pictures of them but they are not very photogenic. Which is probably a good thing, 'cause they really are creepy looking.

Our next adventure, I think, will be introducing Feathers, one of the boys' Siamese Fighter Fish, to our little monkeys of the sea. We will also probably be taking bets as to how long it takes him to clean out the colony, so ....



*Sea Monkeys for you non-francophiles

How to tell you are getting old, Part I

Yesterday morning I gave my old Sex Pistols t-shirt to a friend's teenage son for his Halloween costume and told him to keep it as chances are I was never going to wear it again. He was thrilled. (not to mention impressed that I had an old Sex Pistols shirt)

I had the Kelly Clarkson* cd in my discman last night on the way home from work (yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I should have an iPod, that's coming, but until then I am happy "kicking it old style" with the discman) and was totally loving it.

Then it hit me --- I have gone from The Sex Pistols (Violent Femmes, The Cure, The Cult, The Smiths, etc) to Kelly Clarkson. I AM OLD. SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When did that happen?????

When I got home I put Green Day on REALLY LOUD and felt better.

*shut up --- it's good and you know you like it too

It's all about the follow-up

Disclaimer: I was reading back and I seem to be obsessing over my budding non-relationship A LOT. I am sure you are bored of it. Well, too bad. My blog, my contents.

Okay, so back to Friday ...

Tamara and I decided that we didn't want to go the the store launch thingy, so I told non-date that actually I was free if he still wanted to do something (have I mentioned that earlier on Friday I insulted his clothing in a very loud voice in a rather public place? The hurt look on his face will not soon be forgotten ... and to you men out there, pleated, cuffed khakis teamed with a beige on beige plaid/checked shirt with brown shoes and a brown belt is not a wise choice. I'm just saying.) Anyway, after thanking me for basically saying that hanging out with him was better than nothing, he took me our for a lovely walk to the beach and then a great dinner at a fabulous restaurant that I had never been to.

Then we walked back to his car and about halfway back I realized that he was holding my hand. (the appropriate sound now is "aww!!!")

We got to his car, I grabbed my stuff and he had to go to the airport to pick up his ex-wife. Yes, I am well aware that that sounds like an awkward situation, but it's not, really.

When I got home there was a message from him on my phone: "just calling to tell you that I had a lovely, lovely time tonight and I really enjoy spending time with you and sorry we had to cut it short. Have an excellent weekend"

Yes, I got all tingly and grinny and called him back while I was out walking the dogs and we had a lovely chat and well folks, I do believe we have the clarity I was looking for.

The hand holding was nice, but what clinched it was the follow-up call.

(oh, and apparently my wardrobe comment really struck a nerve and we will be paying Banana Republic a visit next week. I am really good at spending other people's money)