I like the term 'lost'. Like she just went missing and one day she'll pop back up, probably when I least expect it. It's not as final as saying she passed away or died. I don't want it to be that final. I keep needing to pick up the phone and call her and say 'guess what happened?' but she's not there.
How do you say goodbye to someone you love as a sister but, more importantly, you like as a friend? I mean, sisters are important but you can't choose them the way she and I chose each other. And maybe that makes the bond extra special, because we've chosen it instead of having it forced on us by genetics. Or maybe I'm just hoping she loved me a fraction of the amount that I love her. Because I do still love her. That's never going to be in the past tense.
I didn't get to say what I wanted to but that fits with the term 'lost'. Because you never know when you will lose something. People always say you should enjoy things while you have them but those people never remind you to memorize and hold dear every part of it because one day it could get lost. And you'll want to remember.
Terra Dawn Kilby, my best girlfriend in the world, died at home when a bloodclot hit her lung after midnight on July 21. She was 28 and planning a career, a wedding and a life.
I wrote this a long time ago and taped a copy to Terra's door in residence:
Though I may not say it often enough,
loud enough,
I am glad to have known you.
Life is never too lonely
if someone is there to care.
You can never be brought down
when someone can share the pain.
This world can wear down the strongest of hearts,
fog the clearest of minds,
but,
with you,
I have the strength to make it.
I'm going to miss her.
Monday, June 4, 2007
Dec 23, 2005 - Is it too late to mail myself to Iraq?
I'm pretty sure it's more peaceful than here. Not here as in "right beside me" but here as in "where my mother can find me.
It has started. The Christmas fun...also known as Nag-Guilt-Humiliate and Torture. It started with an innocent call to my mother (who I had to call so she would know aliens hadn't abducted me on the way home from work today)
Me: Hello?
Mum: Who's this? (she has two kids...one is in the kitchen listening tot he conversation....oh, I forgot to mention. MY MOM ALWAYS USES SPEAKERPHONE)
Me: It's me, your daughter, your first born. Remember?
Mum: What's up?
Me: I'm not dead, I finished work, grabbed a cab and came home.
Mum: Ok
Dead silence
Me: so....ummm....when is dinner tomorrow?
Mum: 5-ish.
Me: So late? We'll be opening presents all night. Can it be earlier?
Mum: no
Dead silence
Me: ok. Well I'll call when I've finished baking and picking up the pictures and wrapping and cleaning and dressing.
Mum: Can you be done for when your aunt and uncle come into the city? They could pick you up.
Me: Depends on when they're coming in. What time?
Mum: I don't know (making it sound like this is a reasonable response)
Me: Well, then, I don't know if I'll be ready when they come by.
Dead silence
Me: How about I call when I'm ready and if they're nearby, great.
Dead silence
Mum: Well..............umm.....I guess that would be ok........
Me: Great! Ok, well see you tomorrow. Oh, can you ask Daniel if he'll be Santa?
(note from me: Every year since forever I have sat beside the tree and given everyone their presents to open. I don't really mind it but it's not like I loved the position...I just fell into it. I didn't do it a couple of years ago because I felt ill....it was like the world crumbled for everyone else. READ THE GIFT TAG AND GIVE IT TO THE CORRECT PERSON!!!!! )
(Another note from me: Asking Daniel, my brother, is just a formalisty. Since I am opn speakerphone he can hear me. In fact he, his gf, his best friend, his freind's sister and the cats can all hear me...and I can hear them too.)
Mum: WHY? (think whiny.....whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)
Me: Because
Mum: But why? (whyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)
Me: Just because
Mum: But WHY? (whyeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE)
(seriously, can anyone be this clueless? Do I SOUND like I want to discuss it? on speakerphone?)
Me: I don't want to talk about it. Just tell him he's doing it.
Mum: Because of Anxiety? Because you should get over that.
(there's a murmur in the background as the peanut gallery ponders this deep thought)
Me: Yeah. So. I'm going now. I smell like a greasy chicken. I'll see you tomorrow.
Mum: What time?
(I hang up and pretend I didn't hear the question because A) I'm pissed and B) It's probably the dumbest question I've ever heard after the conversation we just had about pick up times)
So, does anyone have a stamp? Because I'd rather face land mines than my family this year. And it's not even Christmas yet.
It has started. The Christmas fun...also known as Nag-Guilt-Humiliate and Torture. It started with an innocent call to my mother (who I had to call so she would know aliens hadn't abducted me on the way home from work today)
Me: Hello?
Mum: Who's this? (she has two kids...one is in the kitchen listening tot he conversation....oh, I forgot to mention. MY MOM ALWAYS USES SPEAKERPHONE)
Me: It's me, your daughter, your first born. Remember?
Mum: What's up?
Me: I'm not dead, I finished work, grabbed a cab and came home.
Mum: Ok
Dead silence
Me: so....ummm....when is dinner tomorrow?
Mum: 5-ish.
Me: So late? We'll be opening presents all night. Can it be earlier?
Mum: no
Dead silence
Me: ok. Well I'll call when I've finished baking and picking up the pictures and wrapping and cleaning and dressing.
Mum: Can you be done for when your aunt and uncle come into the city? They could pick you up.
Me: Depends on when they're coming in. What time?
Mum: I don't know (making it sound like this is a reasonable response)
Me: Well, then, I don't know if I'll be ready when they come by.
Dead silence
Me: How about I call when I'm ready and if they're nearby, great.
Dead silence
Mum: Well..............umm.....I guess that would be ok........
Me: Great! Ok, well see you tomorrow. Oh, can you ask Daniel if he'll be Santa?
(note from me: Every year since forever I have sat beside the tree and given everyone their presents to open. I don't really mind it but it's not like I loved the position...I just fell into it. I didn't do it a couple of years ago because I felt ill....it was like the world crumbled for everyone else. READ THE GIFT TAG AND GIVE IT TO THE CORRECT PERSON!!!!! )
(Another note from me: Asking Daniel, my brother, is just a formalisty. Since I am opn speakerphone he can hear me. In fact he, his gf, his best friend, his freind's sister and the cats can all hear me...and I can hear them too.)
Mum: WHY? (think whiny.....whyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)
Me: Because
Mum: But why? (whyeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee)
Me: Just because
Mum: But WHY? (whyeeEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE)
(seriously, can anyone be this clueless? Do I SOUND like I want to discuss it? on speakerphone?)
Me: I don't want to talk about it. Just tell him he's doing it.
Mum: Because of Anxiety? Because you should get over that.
(there's a murmur in the background as the peanut gallery ponders this deep thought)
Me: Yeah. So. I'm going now. I smell like a greasy chicken. I'll see you tomorrow.
Mum: What time?
(I hang up and pretend I didn't hear the question because A) I'm pissed and B) It's probably the dumbest question I've ever heard after the conversation we just had about pick up times)
So, does anyone have a stamp? Because I'd rather face land mines than my family this year. And it's not even Christmas yet.
Sept 23, 2005-My life according to me
Ok, remmeber when I said school wasn't so bad....WRONG!! I'm DYING!! I end up writing something to taking a roll of pictures or reading 100 pages every night....sometimes all three.
Here's are my courses:
Page design: ok, I like this class. I'm good at it (essentially it's like tetris on a newspage) and the pay probably isn't too bad if I decided to do it....but the hours suck (not class, as a job). Most days you'd work 4pm-1am....YAY!!!! So it is not something I can seriously consider as a career. I'd fall asleep on my lunch break. Plus, think of all the tv I'd miss....nope, not for me. But it's a nice class, not much homework and the teacher seems more afraid of us than we are of him.
News reporting: this should be called "terror class" because that's what it induces in most of us. We had a nice easy first week...take a news story and re write it from a different point of view...ok, nice and easy...WAIT what's this next assignment? Come-up-with-an-idea-all-by-yourself-and-write-a-proposal-and-watch-me-change-your-idea
-so-you-have-to-take-a-bus-to-Hamilton-ha-ha-ha" Out of the blue we have to write shit....what is this? Writing? Ok, that shouldn;t have shocked me but, while we get a wonderful month to come up with this whole thing, sources and all, we're also writing frickin news reports every day and doing news quizzes every day (do you know what the cdn dollar is trading at? 'Cuz I have to!) and read AT LEAST two full newspapers every day and read the book and watch the news on tv and lay eggs...... all for ONE course. Needless to say, for a gal who's the solitaire champion of TMC/MBS, this "working" thing is hard to adjust to.
Law and Ethics: finally! my college education before this is worth something!! I know all about libel and slader and crap....but still, loads of reading...like, seriously, the first day we had 80 pages in the book AND 30 photocopied pages...but it's not too bad. There's a group project near the end of the term...I'm scared about that....I've been watching the class, looking for the "smart person" to pair up with. Bad news: I'M the "smart person". And a "not-so-smart" person is eyeing me up for potential partner material....I may need to develop a really groos habit to throw him off my scent...like horking...I need an old man to teach me how to make that noise..I'll ask the next one who sits beside me on the bus (unless he's a smelly horker...I have an aversion to BO)
Imaging: Doesn't his sound cool!?!? It means "take a camera and shoot stuff". What they FORGOT to mention on day one was that I'd be blowing $20 a week (sometimes more) on film and processing...so, 16 weeks at $20 a week is "oh my gosh, I need to sell my kidney!". Seriously, I need a benefactor...anyone want to blow a few grand on me? Plus, I take pictures like a 5 year old only less imaginatively. I hope I improve. Unless the teacher likes people with the heads cut off (and really, aren't they better that way?).
That's all I'm taking....and my life is all about homework and crap-work, crap-work being Dominion. Apparently most cashiers are actually idiots b/c, after one whole day of being a superstar int he regular aisle I have been moved to 8 items or less. You know, that line that NEVER ends where people do dumb things like pay for 2 bananas with their Visa card....ohhh!!! I SWEAR I am NOT making this up!! On Sunday I had a guy rack up $18.28 in groceries. And he asked if I took change. And then handed me a baggie with $20 of DIMES in it.....I had to count out 183 dimes....while the line is backing up and people are grumbling and a small boy in front of me is spitting out ramdom numbers (well, he was until his mom clued in a smacked him one...I have to say, I kinda didn't feel bad for him...I was too busy feeling bad for me and trying not to laugh at my life going down the drain). Nothing makes you actively look for a new job like 4 hours of being a cashier on the fast-lane. And bagging the groceries yourself....I go to Loblaws and scowl and the pampered princesses who get to run the "bag it yourself" lanes....and they make $.10 more than me!!! So I'm looking for a new job. Preferably one that's close and involves sitting down...they can't pay me any less!
That's all for me. I need to go now anyway...one of the cats is trying to eat the mousepad. I'm more worried about the mousepad than the cat. It has more use. Actually, that's not true. Mars would probably make a nice hat. She's got really soft fur. And she smells nice. Your hat should always smell good. That's my advice to you. No need to thank me, I'm here to help.
Gotta go catch me a pair of mittens now.....
Here's are my courses:
Page design: ok, I like this class. I'm good at it (essentially it's like tetris on a newspage) and the pay probably isn't too bad if I decided to do it....but the hours suck (not class, as a job). Most days you'd work 4pm-1am....YAY!!!! So it is not something I can seriously consider as a career. I'd fall asleep on my lunch break. Plus, think of all the tv I'd miss....nope, not for me. But it's a nice class, not much homework and the teacher seems more afraid of us than we are of him.
News reporting: this should be called "terror class" because that's what it induces in most of us. We had a nice easy first week...take a news story and re write it from a different point of view...ok, nice and easy...WAIT what's this next assignment? Come-up-with-an-idea-all-by-yourself-and-write-a-proposal-and-watch-me-change-your-idea
-so-you-have-to-take-a-bus-to-Hamilton-ha-ha-ha" Out of the blue we have to write shit....what is this? Writing? Ok, that shouldn;t have shocked me but, while we get a wonderful month to come up with this whole thing, sources and all, we're also writing frickin news reports every day and doing news quizzes every day (do you know what the cdn dollar is trading at? 'Cuz I have to!) and read AT LEAST two full newspapers every day and read the book and watch the news on tv and lay eggs...... all for ONE course. Needless to say, for a gal who's the solitaire champion of TMC/MBS, this "working" thing is hard to adjust to.
Law and Ethics: finally! my college education before this is worth something!! I know all about libel and slader and crap....but still, loads of reading...like, seriously, the first day we had 80 pages in the book AND 30 photocopied pages...but it's not too bad. There's a group project near the end of the term...I'm scared about that....I've been watching the class, looking for the "smart person" to pair up with. Bad news: I'M the "smart person". And a "not-so-smart" person is eyeing me up for potential partner material....I may need to develop a really groos habit to throw him off my scent...like horking...I need an old man to teach me how to make that noise..I'll ask the next one who sits beside me on the bus (unless he's a smelly horker...I have an aversion to BO)
Imaging: Doesn't his sound cool!?!? It means "take a camera and shoot stuff". What they FORGOT to mention on day one was that I'd be blowing $20 a week (sometimes more) on film and processing...so, 16 weeks at $20 a week is "oh my gosh, I need to sell my kidney!". Seriously, I need a benefactor...anyone want to blow a few grand on me? Plus, I take pictures like a 5 year old only less imaginatively. I hope I improve. Unless the teacher likes people with the heads cut off (and really, aren't they better that way?).
That's all I'm taking....and my life is all about homework and crap-work, crap-work being Dominion. Apparently most cashiers are actually idiots b/c, after one whole day of being a superstar int he regular aisle I have been moved to 8 items or less. You know, that line that NEVER ends where people do dumb things like pay for 2 bananas with their Visa card....ohhh!!! I SWEAR I am NOT making this up!! On Sunday I had a guy rack up $18.28 in groceries. And he asked if I took change. And then handed me a baggie with $20 of DIMES in it.....I had to count out 183 dimes....while the line is backing up and people are grumbling and a small boy in front of me is spitting out ramdom numbers (well, he was until his mom clued in a smacked him one...I have to say, I kinda didn't feel bad for him...I was too busy feeling bad for me and trying not to laugh at my life going down the drain). Nothing makes you actively look for a new job like 4 hours of being a cashier on the fast-lane. And bagging the groceries yourself....I go to Loblaws and scowl and the pampered princesses who get to run the "bag it yourself" lanes....and they make $.10 more than me!!! So I'm looking for a new job. Preferably one that's close and involves sitting down...they can't pay me any less!
That's all for me. I need to go now anyway...one of the cats is trying to eat the mousepad. I'm more worried about the mousepad than the cat. It has more use. Actually, that's not true. Mars would probably make a nice hat. She's got really soft fur. And she smells nice. Your hat should always smell good. That's my advice to you. No need to thank me, I'm here to help.
Gotta go catch me a pair of mittens now.....
Jan4, 2005- 2005 is gonna suck
Yep, it's suck city from here on out. Let me explain, no, wait, we don't have time, let me sum up:
I cat-sat for a family friend (without a good thank you but we'll get to that later). This chick has 3 cats. Two smallish, cat-like creatures who sit looking pretty and I'm sure are like your average cat (they are cuddles and fluffy...oooh, yeah, imagination city!) and one huge beast that is only classified as a cat because they haven't found the missing link between it and a sabertooth tiger. Seriously, the cat weighs at least 40lbs and is bigger than your average boston terrier (a medium sized dog). No one would believe it unless they saw it but it is a monster of a beast. A lonely beast too since it no doubt realized after the first day that its inferior cat companions were dumb as posts. And this big moster is VERY smart, like, it might share some genes with dolphins. It's certainly slippery with its escape attempts. Oh, and btw, the cat's name is "stupid" so you can imagine my delight running up and down the hallway of the apartment yelling "here, Stupid, come here, Stupid, come back inside, you asshole.....ok, I'm telling a fib, I also dropped the "f" bomb a few times to the horror of the elderly neighbours. But you try getting the smartest cat-beast in the world to come inside without calling it a few names. I dare you.
Anyway, The cat was really loud about wanting to be snuggled and since my knees were a bit stiff I bent at the waist to pick up the 40+lb cat. I realize, in retrospect, that I am an idiot. Perhaps even "stupid" myself. I actually heard, as well as felt, the crack when I hoisted up Stupid. I immeditely let go (followed by 30 seconds of the cat trying to get a grip on my shirt so as not to fall into the waterbowl) and almost burst into tears. I walked home very carefully (only a 10 minute walk) and lay down on my side. I think at some point during the day I was crying for Peter to kill me and end the pain. He drugged me (hey, did you know that you can take 4 extra strength Tylenols?!) and I slept off some of the craziness for a bit. I was much better on Sunday, a bit stiff but not bad. Then, after sitting all day yesterday I was in LOTS of pain last night!!! I had to take a hot shower and take more Tylenol just to get a couple of hours' sleep. Yay me.
Anyway, here's a rundown of the rest of my holiday:
23rd-company party. So many people told me I looked nice that I'm thinking I look like a real skeeze most of the time at work. I had fun and left sometime after 9pm.
24th-family, yay, we had our Christmas. We were supposed to eat at 3:30pm, we instead ate after 5. We opened gifts. Like Alisha, we take turns. I got some nice stuff and some not so nice stuff. I'm not real big on "stuff" anyway. Fought with my mom about me going home to sleep and had to tell her that I brought cab fare if no one would drive me. Went home, showered and slept surrounded by cats.
25th-woke up, spat out a hairball, got ready for day 2 with my family. This time to open stockings and go to church with my mom. Oooops, I let it slip to the choir directrice (a former teacher) that I wasn't having a Catholic wedding. What, a NON-Catholic wedding?!?! Quick, all hands on deck, this is an emergency, do you need a priest, we'll find one and get him to marry you, don't worry, anything to save a soul. Feeling much more at ease now that I know that I will burn in hell for an unholy union and not just for having wild, unmarried sex and lying to my mom (not related, not usually anyway). It's comforting to know that no matter what I do, my punishment can't get worse. Be warned, I can kill people now.
Anyway, after leaving the choir loft and getting dropped off home I hopped in the shower and got ready to deliver presents at the hospital with Melissa. Realized that nothing was clean. I had to wear a J. Lo-esque velour sweatsuit. Ask Melissa, I was quite the Gina. Then her dad, as she's dropping me off home, corrects me when I say that it's my house. He says, you mean you "rent" the house (wtf?!?! I COULDN'T have heard right? Why would he say that?) and I'm like "no, I own the house" and Melissa tells him that I bought it. Anyway, he was a bit grumpy due to hurting his arm. And melting in a Santa suit. But that was weird!!
Dec 26:day 3 of the mom visits. This time I'm picked up and driven home by family friends. This is a party for them at my mom's house. Boring, boring, boring. Glad to be home. Woke up at 3am, couldn't sleep so I cleaned the house so when Peter arrived the next day it wasn't too awful.
Dec 27: Peter comes home at noon bearing gifts from his family. I liked them. Too many to count. I was spoiled. We go to my mom's (#4!!!!) and she has some gifts for Peter. Fun. He gets some good stuff (I told her what he'd like) and we stay until 11pm when we finally get out and go home and SLEEP!!
Dec 28: Hmmm, WTF did we do? We must have done something, just not too sure what.
Dec 29 and 30: Peter works all day, I sleep and read. Tres interesting. BTW, I had to go to the library on the 30th so I read 8 books between Dec 23 and Dec 30. I congratulate myself!
Dec 31: day of the skunk. If 2005 began badly, 2004 ended pretty stinky too. Seriously. Our house got hit by a skunk at 6:30am. Now, I don't mind the odd wafting odour as a skunk passes by, I actually like it. Reminds me of being a kid in the country. Anyway, being in a house that a skunk has sprayed near is NOT cool. We were close to vomitting. Peter had to work so he got up, had a shower and left. I finally dropped off to sleep just after 10am because the smell kept me awake. At 10:30 Peter came home. Apparently he had still smelled skunk while on the subway and assumed it was stuck in his nose. When a woman turned around in the copy room at work and said "do you smell something" he wasn't so sure it was in his head. He ran to a friend's cube and said "smell me" and the guy said he couldn't b/c all he could smell was skunk. Peter wrote a quick note to his boss saying he had to leave and he'd explain later. How embarrassing. We got rid of the worst of the smell and our clothes have been aired and cleaned. If you smell a skunky odour though, please let me know. I don't want to be the office stinky guy.
Jan 1: Incident with cat. Let's drop that. Although, just for the record, who asks a family friend who you aren't super close to to cat-sit when your brother and his wife live closer to your house? 'Nuff said.
Jan 2: Happily not in so much pain, the day just flew by.
Jan 3: I had to come to work. I think you know how I felt about that. Only by chance did I have food with me. But no pass card. Although I did spot my passcard over the holiday, I just forget where I saw it.
Jan 4: today. Today sucks. Tomorrow will probably suck too. In fact, I'm forcasting a suckfest until Friday, 5pm. Make that 5:30pm, TTC sucks too.
I cat-sat for a family friend (without a good thank you but we'll get to that later). This chick has 3 cats. Two smallish, cat-like creatures who sit looking pretty and I'm sure are like your average cat (they are cuddles and fluffy...oooh, yeah, imagination city!) and one huge beast that is only classified as a cat because they haven't found the missing link between it and a sabertooth tiger. Seriously, the cat weighs at least 40lbs and is bigger than your average boston terrier (a medium sized dog). No one would believe it unless they saw it but it is a monster of a beast. A lonely beast too since it no doubt realized after the first day that its inferior cat companions were dumb as posts. And this big moster is VERY smart, like, it might share some genes with dolphins. It's certainly slippery with its escape attempts. Oh, and btw, the cat's name is "stupid" so you can imagine my delight running up and down the hallway of the apartment yelling "here, Stupid, come here, Stupid, come back inside, you asshole.....ok, I'm telling a fib, I also dropped the "f" bomb a few times to the horror of the elderly neighbours. But you try getting the smartest cat-beast in the world to come inside without calling it a few names. I dare you.
Anyway, The cat was really loud about wanting to be snuggled and since my knees were a bit stiff I bent at the waist to pick up the 40+lb cat. I realize, in retrospect, that I am an idiot. Perhaps even "stupid" myself. I actually heard, as well as felt, the crack when I hoisted up Stupid. I immeditely let go (followed by 30 seconds of the cat trying to get a grip on my shirt so as not to fall into the waterbowl) and almost burst into tears. I walked home very carefully (only a 10 minute walk) and lay down on my side. I think at some point during the day I was crying for Peter to kill me and end the pain. He drugged me (hey, did you know that you can take 4 extra strength Tylenols?!) and I slept off some of the craziness for a bit. I was much better on Sunday, a bit stiff but not bad. Then, after sitting all day yesterday I was in LOTS of pain last night!!! I had to take a hot shower and take more Tylenol just to get a couple of hours' sleep. Yay me.
Anyway, here's a rundown of the rest of my holiday:
23rd-company party. So many people told me I looked nice that I'm thinking I look like a real skeeze most of the time at work. I had fun and left sometime after 9pm.
24th-family, yay, we had our Christmas. We were supposed to eat at 3:30pm, we instead ate after 5. We opened gifts. Like Alisha, we take turns. I got some nice stuff and some not so nice stuff. I'm not real big on "stuff" anyway. Fought with my mom about me going home to sleep and had to tell her that I brought cab fare if no one would drive me. Went home, showered and slept surrounded by cats.
25th-woke up, spat out a hairball, got ready for day 2 with my family. This time to open stockings and go to church with my mom. Oooops, I let it slip to the choir directrice (a former teacher) that I wasn't having a Catholic wedding. What, a NON-Catholic wedding?!?! Quick, all hands on deck, this is an emergency, do you need a priest, we'll find one and get him to marry you, don't worry, anything to save a soul. Feeling much more at ease now that I know that I will burn in hell for an unholy union and not just for having wild, unmarried sex and lying to my mom (not related, not usually anyway). It's comforting to know that no matter what I do, my punishment can't get worse. Be warned, I can kill people now.
Anyway, after leaving the choir loft and getting dropped off home I hopped in the shower and got ready to deliver presents at the hospital with Melissa. Realized that nothing was clean. I had to wear a J. Lo-esque velour sweatsuit. Ask Melissa, I was quite the Gina. Then her dad, as she's dropping me off home, corrects me when I say that it's my house. He says, you mean you "rent" the house (wtf?!?! I COULDN'T have heard right? Why would he say that?) and I'm like "no, I own the house" and Melissa tells him that I bought it. Anyway, he was a bit grumpy due to hurting his arm. And melting in a Santa suit. But that was weird!!
Dec 26:day 3 of the mom visits. This time I'm picked up and driven home by family friends. This is a party for them at my mom's house. Boring, boring, boring. Glad to be home. Woke up at 3am, couldn't sleep so I cleaned the house so when Peter arrived the next day it wasn't too awful.
Dec 27: Peter comes home at noon bearing gifts from his family. I liked them. Too many to count. I was spoiled. We go to my mom's (#4!!!!) and she has some gifts for Peter. Fun. He gets some good stuff (I told her what he'd like) and we stay until 11pm when we finally get out and go home and SLEEP!!
Dec 28: Hmmm, WTF did we do? We must have done something, just not too sure what.
Dec 29 and 30: Peter works all day, I sleep and read. Tres interesting. BTW, I had to go to the library on the 30th so I read 8 books between Dec 23 and Dec 30. I congratulate myself!
Dec 31: day of the skunk. If 2005 began badly, 2004 ended pretty stinky too. Seriously. Our house got hit by a skunk at 6:30am. Now, I don't mind the odd wafting odour as a skunk passes by, I actually like it. Reminds me of being a kid in the country. Anyway, being in a house that a skunk has sprayed near is NOT cool. We were close to vomitting. Peter had to work so he got up, had a shower and left. I finally dropped off to sleep just after 10am because the smell kept me awake. At 10:30 Peter came home. Apparently he had still smelled skunk while on the subway and assumed it was stuck in his nose. When a woman turned around in the copy room at work and said "do you smell something" he wasn't so sure it was in his head. He ran to a friend's cube and said "smell me" and the guy said he couldn't b/c all he could smell was skunk. Peter wrote a quick note to his boss saying he had to leave and he'd explain later. How embarrassing. We got rid of the worst of the smell and our clothes have been aired and cleaned. If you smell a skunky odour though, please let me know. I don't want to be the office stinky guy.
Jan 1: Incident with cat. Let's drop that. Although, just for the record, who asks a family friend who you aren't super close to to cat-sit when your brother and his wife live closer to your house? 'Nuff said.
Jan 2: Happily not in so much pain, the day just flew by.
Jan 3: I had to come to work. I think you know how I felt about that. Only by chance did I have food with me. But no pass card. Although I did spot my passcard over the holiday, I just forget where I saw it.
Jan 4: today. Today sucks. Tomorrow will probably suck too. In fact, I'm forcasting a suckfest until Friday, 5pm. Make that 5:30pm, TTC sucks too.
Dec 20, 2004-Arg!
Peter and I went to Toys R Us to get stuff for the group charity (the hospital?). We thought it would be bad but apparently if you are wandering the aisles with a pen and paper and a cart with $400 of toys in it, people steer clear of you. Especially when you cough and people can hear a death rattle in your lungs. I feel like an old lady. If this doesn't clear up soon I may call my doctor and see if she can squeeze me in on Christmas Eve morning. I get awful coughs but they don't usually hurt my chest this much and I feel like I have a cupful of water in my lungs. Not a good sign. I just want one Christmas where I'm not on medication or coming out of the hospital or sick. Is that oo much to ask? The good news is, at least if I have a lung infection I can justify leaving my mom's place really early. And maybe they'll all smoke in the other room. (I hope it warms up and they can smoke outside but I know my family and I could be dying of lung cancer, they would still insist that the smoke couldn't affect me.)
Ok, on to Sunday. Peter needed to go shopping for Christmas (just a few more things) and I needed a Kris Kringle gift so we got to Fairview mall 15 minutes after it opened and ran thorugh the place. We put our stuff in the trunk and went to see Ocean's Twelve at 1pm in the mall. So-so movie made infinitely worse by the idiots beside me. I did my usual put-the-coats-on-the-seat-beside-me to I could tell noisy looking people that I was saving a seat. But after 15 minutes of previews and 5 minutes into the movie, just when they're setting up the plot, this couple comes in and the woman decides she wants to sit in our row. Now I figure, ok, she wants to get to the middle of the row (we take end seats) where there are no less than 6 consecutive empty seats but, no, her greatest dream is to sit in the two seat spot between me and another couple. First she makes Peter and I stand there for more than 2 minutes while she decides if she really does want to sit there and then, just as we're giving up and sitting down she barrels in with three big shopping bags, smashing my shins as she passes. Then she sits two seats from me and leans over to ask me to remove my coat so her over six foot, more than 300 lb boyfriend can sit right beside me. And he noisily steps over the seat to sit down, first handing over another three large shopping bags that he was carrying. Then, as he's sitting (with his leg half into my foot space b/c he's got 6 bags in his space) he takes of his jacket, elbowing me several times, loudly apologizing each time, very nice of him, just stop elbowing me. THEN he spends ten minutes explaining the first movie to his girlfriend who apparently hadn't seen it (why are they here?!?!?) and then he talks to her in a a loud whisper every 30 seconds. It's during one of the few surprises at the beginning of the movie that I realize that he's already seen it. How, you ask? Let's say that someone gets shot (not that anyone does, it's just an example). Well, about 2 minutes before they get shot, big-guy tells his girlfriend to keep an eye on the action. Then 30 seconds before it happens he says "man, I LOVE this part", then about 10 seconds before it happens he announces to her, "look quick, he's about to get shot, can you believe it?". No, big-guy, we can't believe it. We cannot believe that you have taken your space-disrespecting girlfriend to the sequel of a movie that she has not seen. We cannot believe that you have seen it and want to see it again. We cannot believe that we are in this situation. And I don't particularly want to tell this human wall beside me (man, he was tall!) to please be quiet. I mean, you're an adult, shut your piehole! Finally, after an hour of this, Peter says the magic words, "I will buy you a present if you tell them to be quiet". Ok, I'll do it for a present (I got a lovely purse, you'll see it at the Christmas party). I ask them to keep quiet and, even thought he continues to explain the plot of the movie, at least Peter can't hear it anymore and I'm bored anyway so I start writing lists and planning my holiday in my head. I didn't miss much, the movie was kinda lame.
Anyway, we leave the theatre and I was going to stop at Bulk Barn before we left but I see the crowds and Peter and I go into defense mode. Just agree on an exit and get through the crowd as fast as possible. If you fall, too bad, nice knowing you. We get to the car and because it's negative 300C, we decide to let the car warm up for a couple of minutes. Excuse us for being safe. The guy waiting to get into our spot looks rabid! So we back out and are leaving when a car with two oldish asian women comes flying by us and head straight for our spot. The guy waiting for the spot honks and we lock our doors and HAVE to watch, we can't look away, as the asian ladies attempt to scoop the spot. The guy pulls the front of his car in front of the ladies' car to keep them from moving (and getting into the spot) and he gets out and bangs on their passenger window yelling something like "my spot, my spot" (it was heavily accented english, could have been " pie pot" but "my spot" made sense) until the ladies, frightened, drove away. Last we saw, dude had parked and was running into the store without a coat (we had a REALLY good spot, maybe ten cars from the door). I guess everyone is a little tense. Oooo, I almost for got the best part. I almost threw this little old Filipino lady across the bathroom. Right before we left, I went to the washroom. I'm in line, there's two halls of stalls, I'm at the far one, little lady in front of me. I guess she had friends in the other line, maybe 20 feet away. So a stall opens up that she should go to, instead she plants her feet apart, blocking off the hall and allowing no one to get past her, not even people leaving stalls, and shouts something to her friends. I'm right behind her and tap her on the shoulder saying, "there's a stall". She ignores me, 10 seconds of talking with her pals across the bathroom go by and another stall opens and I ask the lady to move. The third one opens a few seconds later and I try to get her attention to the empty stalls. She waves her hand in my face, sets her feet even wider (by this point there are three ladies who want to wash their hands who are stuck ont he other side of this lady) and I say, "Sorry, I'm going", I throw my weight into her (I knew I had hips for a reason), catch her off balance, she hits the wall (I have years of experience hip-checking my six-foot brother, a four foot nothing woman isn't a challenge) and looks stunned as I walk briskly by hoping that she doesn't come after me and bite my ankles or something. I really didn't mean to throw her like that but I was tired, cranky and ready to burst. When I got out, she was standing with her friends by the door and they got all quiet and looked all meanly at me when I washed my hands. And then moved out of my way as I laft the bathroom. Imagine, me, sweet little me, scaring little old ladies. I was quite proud. Usually I sit there and take it but after having a giant ruin my movie, there was no way that I was letting a midget make me wet myself. So be warning, I have hips and will not hesitate to use them. If I'm pushed far enough. I hope she has a nice bruise today.
Ok, on to Sunday. Peter needed to go shopping for Christmas (just a few more things) and I needed a Kris Kringle gift so we got to Fairview mall 15 minutes after it opened and ran thorugh the place. We put our stuff in the trunk and went to see Ocean's Twelve at 1pm in the mall. So-so movie made infinitely worse by the idiots beside me. I did my usual put-the-coats-on-the-seat-beside-me to I could tell noisy looking people that I was saving a seat. But after 15 minutes of previews and 5 minutes into the movie, just when they're setting up the plot, this couple comes in and the woman decides she wants to sit in our row. Now I figure, ok, she wants to get to the middle of the row (we take end seats) where there are no less than 6 consecutive empty seats but, no, her greatest dream is to sit in the two seat spot between me and another couple. First she makes Peter and I stand there for more than 2 minutes while she decides if she really does want to sit there and then, just as we're giving up and sitting down she barrels in with three big shopping bags, smashing my shins as she passes. Then she sits two seats from me and leans over to ask me to remove my coat so her over six foot, more than 300 lb boyfriend can sit right beside me. And he noisily steps over the seat to sit down, first handing over another three large shopping bags that he was carrying. Then, as he's sitting (with his leg half into my foot space b/c he's got 6 bags in his space) he takes of his jacket, elbowing me several times, loudly apologizing each time, very nice of him, just stop elbowing me. THEN he spends ten minutes explaining the first movie to his girlfriend who apparently hadn't seen it (why are they here?!?!?) and then he talks to her in a a loud whisper every 30 seconds. It's during one of the few surprises at the beginning of the movie that I realize that he's already seen it. How, you ask? Let's say that someone gets shot (not that anyone does, it's just an example). Well, about 2 minutes before they get shot, big-guy tells his girlfriend to keep an eye on the action. Then 30 seconds before it happens he says "man, I LOVE this part", then about 10 seconds before it happens he announces to her, "look quick, he's about to get shot, can you believe it?". No, big-guy, we can't believe it. We cannot believe that you have taken your space-disrespecting girlfriend to the sequel of a movie that she has not seen. We cannot believe that you have seen it and want to see it again. We cannot believe that we are in this situation. And I don't particularly want to tell this human wall beside me (man, he was tall!) to please be quiet. I mean, you're an adult, shut your piehole! Finally, after an hour of this, Peter says the magic words, "I will buy you a present if you tell them to be quiet". Ok, I'll do it for a present (I got a lovely purse, you'll see it at the Christmas party). I ask them to keep quiet and, even thought he continues to explain the plot of the movie, at least Peter can't hear it anymore and I'm bored anyway so I start writing lists and planning my holiday in my head. I didn't miss much, the movie was kinda lame.
Anyway, we leave the theatre and I was going to stop at Bulk Barn before we left but I see the crowds and Peter and I go into defense mode. Just agree on an exit and get through the crowd as fast as possible. If you fall, too bad, nice knowing you. We get to the car and because it's negative 300C, we decide to let the car warm up for a couple of minutes. Excuse us for being safe. The guy waiting to get into our spot looks rabid! So we back out and are leaving when a car with two oldish asian women comes flying by us and head straight for our spot. The guy waiting for the spot honks and we lock our doors and HAVE to watch, we can't look away, as the asian ladies attempt to scoop the spot. The guy pulls the front of his car in front of the ladies' car to keep them from moving (and getting into the spot) and he gets out and bangs on their passenger window yelling something like "my spot, my spot" (it was heavily accented english, could have been " pie pot" but "my spot" made sense) until the ladies, frightened, drove away. Last we saw, dude had parked and was running into the store without a coat (we had a REALLY good spot, maybe ten cars from the door). I guess everyone is a little tense. Oooo, I almost for got the best part. I almost threw this little old Filipino lady across the bathroom. Right before we left, I went to the washroom. I'm in line, there's two halls of stalls, I'm at the far one, little lady in front of me. I guess she had friends in the other line, maybe 20 feet away. So a stall opens up that she should go to, instead she plants her feet apart, blocking off the hall and allowing no one to get past her, not even people leaving stalls, and shouts something to her friends. I'm right behind her and tap her on the shoulder saying, "there's a stall". She ignores me, 10 seconds of talking with her pals across the bathroom go by and another stall opens and I ask the lady to move. The third one opens a few seconds later and I try to get her attention to the empty stalls. She waves her hand in my face, sets her feet even wider (by this point there are three ladies who want to wash their hands who are stuck ont he other side of this lady) and I say, "Sorry, I'm going", I throw my weight into her (I knew I had hips for a reason), catch her off balance, she hits the wall (I have years of experience hip-checking my six-foot brother, a four foot nothing woman isn't a challenge) and looks stunned as I walk briskly by hoping that she doesn't come after me and bite my ankles or something. I really didn't mean to throw her like that but I was tired, cranky and ready to burst. When I got out, she was standing with her friends by the door and they got all quiet and looked all meanly at me when I washed my hands. And then moved out of my way as I laft the bathroom. Imagine, me, sweet little me, scaring little old ladies. I was quite proud. Usually I sit there and take it but after having a giant ruin my movie, there was no way that I was letting a midget make me wet myself. So be warning, I have hips and will not hesitate to use them. If I'm pushed far enough. I hope she has a nice bruise today.
Dec 15, 2004 - Don;t judge me, judgy!
So I'm getting people thinking I'm a nutbar b/c I don't spend Christmas with Peter. I'm not nuts, I'm thinking outside the little bitty box that these chicks are shoved in. Like it's right there in your wedding vows "do you promise to love, honour and glue yourself to the hip of your husband?" Hello, I'm not saying that running around trying to do everything isn't noble (crazy but noble), I'm just saying some people don't feel obligated. Of course, by admitting this I have admitted to a sin worse than torturing little monkeys. I am a dangerous woman, I dare to spend time away from my man. Oooo, nex tthing you know I'll want to put on shoes. Or change the meaning of "marriage".
Ok, that's another thing that pisses me off. Since when does giving gay people the right to marry make straight marriages any less special? Like it was only special because it was kept from 10% of the population? And those idiots who complain their kids are exposed to homosexual families in school. Hello, it's not like the teachers are teaching the kids how to butt-f*ck, they are simply reading stories about kids with two moms or two dads. Like the stories they read about Muslim families and Hanukkah. Hello!!! Like every kid who hears about Spot running is going to get up and sprint across the room? I think it's good because it teaches tolerence. It doens't say "this is good, this is bad" it says "some kids have two mommies, let'd not make fun of them." If you don't like it, homeschool your kids. then maybe they will never dare to think outside the little box that you live in (lots of people in boxes these days. Must be the holiday season).
Lets see, what else is new. Nothing really good new. Peter's mom has STILL not finished finding the addresses for the invites. You don't know how annoyed I am by that. I give her one ONE (1) job and she can't do it.......that's ok, no big deal, I'm not going to let it bug me...NOT! I'm calling his aunts today myself (Peter's annoyed too...he's anal like me...).
Hmmm, oh, kids! I hate all these kids commiting crimes. There's a story in the Star about stupid kids torturing and killing a 16 year old who, get this, laughed at one of them b/c he was so drunk he puked.....yep. Apparently puking is no laughing matter. Have they not watched South Park. Puking is right up there with farting as GOLD!!
Ok, gotta go. Merry Christmas, holy shit. (10 points for the movie reference.)
I'm sure more stuff will piss me off. And I'll be here reporting it.
Ok, that's another thing that pisses me off. Since when does giving gay people the right to marry make straight marriages any less special? Like it was only special because it was kept from 10% of the population? And those idiots who complain their kids are exposed to homosexual families in school. Hello, it's not like the teachers are teaching the kids how to butt-f*ck, they are simply reading stories about kids with two moms or two dads. Like the stories they read about Muslim families and Hanukkah. Hello!!! Like every kid who hears about Spot running is going to get up and sprint across the room? I think it's good because it teaches tolerence. It doens't say "this is good, this is bad" it says "some kids have two mommies, let'd not make fun of them." If you don't like it, homeschool your kids. then maybe they will never dare to think outside the little box that you live in (lots of people in boxes these days. Must be the holiday season).
Lets see, what else is new. Nothing really good new. Peter's mom has STILL not finished finding the addresses for the invites. You don't know how annoyed I am by that. I give her one ONE (1) job and she can't do it.......that's ok, no big deal, I'm not going to let it bug me...NOT! I'm calling his aunts today myself (Peter's annoyed too...he's anal like me...).
Hmmm, oh, kids! I hate all these kids commiting crimes. There's a story in the Star about stupid kids torturing and killing a 16 year old who, get this, laughed at one of them b/c he was so drunk he puked.....yep. Apparently puking is no laughing matter. Have they not watched South Park. Puking is right up there with farting as GOLD!!
Ok, gotta go. Merry Christmas, holy shit. (10 points for the movie reference.)
I'm sure more stuff will piss me off. And I'll be here reporting it.
Dec 1, 2004 - December Pinks!
Finally!!! The year is almost over! It has FLOWN by!! Spending money certainly has blown by the last few months. Stupid down payments for the wedding. The good news is I am home free. Unless something goes horribly wrong, the wedding is paid for. Now I can save up for an emergency fund (as in "I need a vacation, it's an emergency, co-workers may die if I'm forced to stay here.") No, really, a vacation would be nice, hey, maybe even traditional after a wedding, but I want a new bed more. And our fridge is on its last legs. It makes so much noise at night I've taken to yelling at it (yeah, yelling doesn't work) to get it to shut up and work right. I could be babying it but I'll be darned if I'm going to kiss up to a fridge. It's not like it's a computer or a car. It's almost winter, I can threaten to keep my frozen food on the roof. Then maybe the fridge will realize how nice she's got it and settle down.
Don't tell anyone I've got the wedding paid for. I'm still trying to guilt my mom for putting her buddies on my wedding list. I accidentally let it slip how much each dinner cost and I could hear the hamster running around in her head figuring how many more cronies she can invite. It's starting to look like a casting call for Macbeth. All we need is some guy in a skirt and we can take it on the road.
Ok, I'm boring even myself now. If you've read this far you get to know a dirty secret: I still buy a chocolate advent calendar each year. I had the first piece today. The mold was for a bunch of presents but I got a tree...me thinks someone has shaken up my calendar.
An update on my life? Peter's brother sent his mom's list through MSN Messenger. It's pretty incomplete apparently. I haven't looked at it yet, I got too interested in House last night. Good show, nice to see the guy with the slug mustache on Black Adder Goes Forth has a new job. Beats sniffing slugs. I wrote up a couple of envelopes last night (you're fascinated, aren't you?) and then hit the sack. Woke up this morning to another kitty attempt to bash me over the head with the bedside lamp. I'm getting so good I catch it in midair nowadays. The cats have decided that they must be fed at 5am every morning. I did not sign on to be a cat-bitch. I may be sporting some fur this winter but please rest assured they deserved it.
I'd better get to work. Eventually they will find out that this is easy and they will replace me. I saw them interviewing a monkey the other day. That can't be good.
Don't tell anyone I've got the wedding paid for. I'm still trying to guilt my mom for putting her buddies on my wedding list. I accidentally let it slip how much each dinner cost and I could hear the hamster running around in her head figuring how many more cronies she can invite. It's starting to look like a casting call for Macbeth. All we need is some guy in a skirt and we can take it on the road.
Ok, I'm boring even myself now. If you've read this far you get to know a dirty secret: I still buy a chocolate advent calendar each year. I had the first piece today. The mold was for a bunch of presents but I got a tree...me thinks someone has shaken up my calendar.
An update on my life? Peter's brother sent his mom's list through MSN Messenger. It's pretty incomplete apparently. I haven't looked at it yet, I got too interested in House last night. Good show, nice to see the guy with the slug mustache on Black Adder Goes Forth has a new job. Beats sniffing slugs. I wrote up a couple of envelopes last night (you're fascinated, aren't you?) and then hit the sack. Woke up this morning to another kitty attempt to bash me over the head with the bedside lamp. I'm getting so good I catch it in midair nowadays. The cats have decided that they must be fed at 5am every morning. I did not sign on to be a cat-bitch. I may be sporting some fur this winter but please rest assured they deserved it.
I'd better get to work. Eventually they will find out that this is easy and they will replace me. I saw them interviewing a monkey the other day. That can't be good.
June 6, 2004 - More crap
Arg!!! Ok. So. I'm sorry but this will be a little weddingy. I finally spoke to my aunt yesterday and she agreed with me for the most part. Here's a break down:
My mom's need for a Catholic wedding: when my aunt heard I didn't want it she was like "it's your wedding and if you aren't comfortable" but she had assumed that Peter was Catholic. When I told her he wasn't and that his uncle was performing the ceremony she was completely on my side. She thinks my mom was very much in the wrong there. (Incidentally my aunt isn't Catholic and she and my mom bicker about religion quite a bit so she's actually probably relieved to have more people on her side)
Not having Daniel, my annoying brother, in the wedding party: She thinks that it's up to Peter to put the people closest to him on his side. I'm not taking his sister either. But she thinks he needs to be involved somehow. Which I agree with. That's why we want him to videotape for us. By the way, do either of you know where I can rent a video camera?
My mom's reluctance to do the father-daughter dance with me: She thinks my mom is a snob who will be worried what her friends will think. She's right, only I never saw it that way. She's very much into what people will think and to be honest if she ever said "what will people think" I'll tell her the only judgemental people will be the ones she invites.
Anyway, my aunt seemed happy for me and she liked the place I picked when I told her about it.
Ok, that's it for that.
My mom's need for a Catholic wedding: when my aunt heard I didn't want it she was like "it's your wedding and if you aren't comfortable" but she had assumed that Peter was Catholic. When I told her he wasn't and that his uncle was performing the ceremony she was completely on my side. She thinks my mom was very much in the wrong there. (Incidentally my aunt isn't Catholic and she and my mom bicker about religion quite a bit so she's actually probably relieved to have more people on her side)
Not having Daniel, my annoying brother, in the wedding party: She thinks that it's up to Peter to put the people closest to him on his side. I'm not taking his sister either. But she thinks he needs to be involved somehow. Which I agree with. That's why we want him to videotape for us. By the way, do either of you know where I can rent a video camera?
My mom's reluctance to do the father-daughter dance with me: She thinks my mom is a snob who will be worried what her friends will think. She's right, only I never saw it that way. She's very much into what people will think and to be honest if she ever said "what will people think" I'll tell her the only judgemental people will be the ones she invites.
Anyway, my aunt seemed happy for me and she liked the place I picked when I told her about it.
Ok, that's it for that.
May 25, 2004 - Dinner fun
Peter and I have tentatively set a date to get married. April 16, 2005. If somewhere we like is free and none of his cousins beat us to the date. We're thinking of a couple of places around Milton or Rockford.
I had my mom and brother over for dinner on Sunday. They aren't eating more than 2 minutes when it's "no Catholic priest for the wedding?!?!?" and " you didn't invite Senor Bozo and his dancing money??!?! Who's so important that he's off the list!??!! WHO?!?!?" At this moment I point out that Peter's family comes first. And everyone stops eating to stare at Peter like he's a bug. Yup! This is my psycho family. My mom got over the guest list but my brother is a raging "why" machine. Just wait until he finds out he's not in the wedding party. Peter just wants to keep it to his family. so we're thinking maybe he can run the video camera. Thing is, I have this fear that we're going to watch the video and watch Daniel get drunker and drunker and be an ass. Which he is anyway, but like a bigger ass. Grrrrr. It was all I could do to keep from jumping across the table and stabbing him with my fork. And Peter's mom is "well, do what you like dear...." yeah let's hope that passive agressive happy crappy isn't going to hit me like a ton of bricks when the invites start going out. And why is it that you have to invite every tool that invite you to their monstrosity?!?! My fave quotes of the night:
"You have to invite Andrea. After all she's even asking you to sing!!" (ok, I HATE when I get an invite that I KNOW is all about the free labour!!! That's $100 of free labour there! TELL ME I'm not covering my plate!)
"I know that you aren't close to them but they're OUR friends" (no comment...)
"Let us chip in enough money to assure that your wedding can remain tasteful even though your guestlist is ballooning" (No, wait, that never happened. I just was daydreaming there.)
I had my mom and brother over for dinner on Sunday. They aren't eating more than 2 minutes when it's "no Catholic priest for the wedding?!?!?" and " you didn't invite Senor Bozo and his dancing money??!?! Who's so important that he's off the list!??!! WHO?!?!?" At this moment I point out that Peter's family comes first. And everyone stops eating to stare at Peter like he's a bug. Yup! This is my psycho family. My mom got over the guest list but my brother is a raging "why" machine. Just wait until he finds out he's not in the wedding party. Peter just wants to keep it to his family. so we're thinking maybe he can run the video camera. Thing is, I have this fear that we're going to watch the video and watch Daniel get drunker and drunker and be an ass. Which he is anyway, but like a bigger ass. Grrrrr. It was all I could do to keep from jumping across the table and stabbing him with my fork. And Peter's mom is "well, do what you like dear...." yeah let's hope that passive agressive happy crappy isn't going to hit me like a ton of bricks when the invites start going out. And why is it that you have to invite every tool that invite you to their monstrosity?!?! My fave quotes of the night:
"You have to invite Andrea. After all she's even asking you to sing!!" (ok, I HATE when I get an invite that I KNOW is all about the free labour!!! That's $100 of free labour there! TELL ME I'm not covering my plate!)
"I know that you aren't close to them but they're OUR friends" (no comment...)
"Let us chip in enough money to assure that your wedding can remain tasteful even though your guestlist is ballooning" (No, wait, that never happened. I just was daydreaming there.)
March 6, 2004 - Mars has landed!
Peter and I went to the Humane Society this morning and there were a lot of people there! The doors didn't open until 10 minutes after we'd arrived. So there's this whole bunch of people and I went to the front of the group (because most people were hanging around near the walls so their kids could play) and I'm next to a young girl and her parents and they're there because they need to have the kitten they just got looked at. The proceedure is, you fill out a form, take a number and wait for your turn to get to try for the cat you want. So people first in line (who follow the proceedure) get the most options. So the little girl (with the the kitten) tells me that she's going to run ahead to get a good number (because close to opening some people, one older lady in particular, were shoving ahead of us) and she'll get me the next one since she's just getting her cat looked at so I'll get to be first. Well, the doors open, I get stuck behind old-lady-shoves-a-lot and, wouldn't you know it, she's slow!! I'm far from being the first to the numbers but the little girl meets me there and quietly hands me #2 for the day. I could have hugged her.
I had brought my paperwork from Tuesday with me so I didn't need to do that either. So here I am, in the cat adoption room with lots of people and I can't find Peter (he was hanging back trying to avoid the crowd coming in but that's no use to me because I have only a short time to check out the available cats and he's supposed to be helping me) I had seen a 7 month male cat online, Brinkley, and I was looking for him because I figured there was no way they'd have many young cats. Most of the cats had been there on Tuesday so it wasn't taking so long, when I hit a bit of a crowd in front of one of the cages (right beside Brinkley, actually) so I look at Brinkley, who seemed kinda standoffish, and there are two 3 month old kittens. One was jumping around and one was kinda lying there enjoying the attention. They were soooo cute. So I grab Peter, I have a couple of cats I like the looks of and, because there were two kittens in the cage, Peter figures that they have to go together. I ask a woman working there and she says that no, kittens are kept together because they keep eachother company but it would be best if you took both unless you have another cat, which we do. Then she asks my number. I show it to her and she is surprised because I am first.
She asks if I want one of the kittens and I say yes. So she goes to the cage to get the paperwork (it's clipped to the cage along with the microchip certificate) and there's nothing there. She looks again at my number and announces to the room that whoever has the paperwork for the kittens had to return it because I was first in line and had first choice.
A woman (with two sort of ugly kids...poor things...) comes forward (after her husband rats on her) and says that she has the papers because she's getting the kittens. The woman helping me (I don't know her name, let's call her cat-lady) tells the mother that no one but the adoption staff is supposed to touch the papers and that she needs the papers back and that the mother has to fill out a form and get a number and that when her turn comes, if one of the kittens are still available, she can try for it. The mother gets surly, asks where to find the number and then looks all mad when cat-lady starts telling Peter and I about the cats. I guess she really considered them hers.
Anyway, everyone around the cages breathes a sigh of relief as Peter confirms that we can only take one. We decide on the less hyper one figuring that it would drive Ares crazy. So we do the paperwork and, when we get back to the cage, there's quite a crowd. Everyone there watches as our kitten gets taken out and her sister looks out at her (the other paper was gone so either some deserving family was going to take her home or the mother took the paperwork again so no one else would get the kitten, which seems more likely and is sad because her troll-kids probably would eat the poor thing. Ugly troll-kids.)
Anyway, we now have Mars, which is 99% definitely her name. I want to be sure I'm comfortable with it. And Peter, who didn't want another cat in the first place, really likes her. I told him not to get too attached to her because if Ares doesn't warm to her, I'll have to find her a new home (I'm thinking my aunt's place. She's always there and she'd like a cat but my uncle is a bit against it but I think she could probably keep my Mars if I pointed out that she really needed a home.) Anyway, I hope Ares likes her because she needs a buddy.
I had brought my paperwork from Tuesday with me so I didn't need to do that either. So here I am, in the cat adoption room with lots of people and I can't find Peter (he was hanging back trying to avoid the crowd coming in but that's no use to me because I have only a short time to check out the available cats and he's supposed to be helping me) I had seen a 7 month male cat online, Brinkley, and I was looking for him because I figured there was no way they'd have many young cats. Most of the cats had been there on Tuesday so it wasn't taking so long, when I hit a bit of a crowd in front of one of the cages (right beside Brinkley, actually) so I look at Brinkley, who seemed kinda standoffish, and there are two 3 month old kittens. One was jumping around and one was kinda lying there enjoying the attention. They were soooo cute. So I grab Peter, I have a couple of cats I like the looks of and, because there were two kittens in the cage, Peter figures that they have to go together. I ask a woman working there and she says that no, kittens are kept together because they keep eachother company but it would be best if you took both unless you have another cat, which we do. Then she asks my number. I show it to her and she is surprised because I am first.
She asks if I want one of the kittens and I say yes. So she goes to the cage to get the paperwork (it's clipped to the cage along with the microchip certificate) and there's nothing there. She looks again at my number and announces to the room that whoever has the paperwork for the kittens had to return it because I was first in line and had first choice.
A woman (with two sort of ugly kids...poor things...) comes forward (after her husband rats on her) and says that she has the papers because she's getting the kittens. The woman helping me (I don't know her name, let's call her cat-lady) tells the mother that no one but the adoption staff is supposed to touch the papers and that she needs the papers back and that the mother has to fill out a form and get a number and that when her turn comes, if one of the kittens are still available, she can try for it. The mother gets surly, asks where to find the number and then looks all mad when cat-lady starts telling Peter and I about the cats. I guess she really considered them hers.
Anyway, everyone around the cages breathes a sigh of relief as Peter confirms that we can only take one. We decide on the less hyper one figuring that it would drive Ares crazy. So we do the paperwork and, when we get back to the cage, there's quite a crowd. Everyone there watches as our kitten gets taken out and her sister looks out at her (the other paper was gone so either some deserving family was going to take her home or the mother took the paperwork again so no one else would get the kitten, which seems more likely and is sad because her troll-kids probably would eat the poor thing. Ugly troll-kids.)
Anyway, we now have Mars, which is 99% definitely her name. I want to be sure I'm comfortable with it. And Peter, who didn't want another cat in the first place, really likes her. I told him not to get too attached to her because if Ares doesn't warm to her, I'll have to find her a new home (I'm thinking my aunt's place. She's always there and she'd like a cat but my uncle is a bit against it but I think she could probably keep my Mars if I pointed out that she really needed a home.) Anyway, I hope Ares likes her because she needs a buddy.
First Post
I will be moving some of posts from my Livejournal Account...these are a good introduction to me and my life.
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