Housekeeping



I feel like I have been gone for an eternity!  First let me say that the er 'modeling' gig went swimmingly!  I enjoyed myself a lot, and I especially loved hearing "Would your model like a drink of water? A cup of tea?".  Ha! No thank you, I am a jet-setter, I have no time for such things as tea or water.  Isn't that hilarious?  Above are a couple of photos of the experience, only because I am proud that I got through it without barfing up a lung out of nervousness or embarrassing my dear friend with a deafening fart, maybe even a burp.  Praise the lord for bodily function control!  So there you have it.  It went fantastic for her as well and I am honored to have been a part of it all.  And that will be it for the pictures of me for a while folks.  I am sick of my pasty white MySpace-esque photos; I am sure you are as well.  Well, a few might creep their way in from my 30th birthday extravaganza coming up this Saturday.  But only the truly debaucherous ones will make the cut, don't you worry.

Now on to bigger and better things.

I have a bit of a beef to take up with the world.  The world of Ikea that is.  Yesterday Dave, Jess and I decided it was time to go and purchase a Christmas tree for our respective homes.  We thought that Ikea would be a nice place to go on account of their promise to plant another tree for every tree that is bought from them, and they are decently priced.  I like to give back you know?  So off we went in our fantastic ZipCar, only to drive for twenty minutes to find out that they had sold out of trees that very day.  It was OK though! The trip was nowhere near wasted as we all partook in the buying and consuming of fresh, sweet cinnamon buns and hot coffee.  For two dollars.  It was worth the useless drive to Etobicoke! 

But my beef does not live because of sold out Christmas trees, no.  It started when we pulled into the parking lot.  The gigantic parking lot.  A little background:  it was nighttime.  It was cold.  Colder than your worst day of cold.  Think of the day that you were the coldest in your entire life.  It was colder. (I hope you all know that I am grossly exaggerating to create a mood).  As we are trying to find a parking spot somewhere close to the front doors so that we won't freeze to death the second we exit the car, I am noticing that the first 3000 parking spaces all have big signs that are DETERRING me from parking in them.  The first few hundred from the front door tell me that unless I am pregnant, I am a disgusting individual for even considering stuffing my scarf up my shirt and waddling up to the entrance.  OK.  Carrying on then...oh wait look! Ugh.  No.  We can't park there unless we have a family.  I can't help but feel discriminated against as we pass the brightly painted stick figures that are all holding hands, laughing at me and my lack of procreants.  I am getting a little worked up here.  But then I calm myself down by smugly thinking to myself "Listen, if I DID have a bunch of kids screaming at my ankles for no apparent reason, I would probably want to get in that damn store as fast as I could".  And then I start feeling a little guilty for thinking that the pregnant woman should park further away, exercise is good for the baby!  And I take it all back in my head, feeling like a jerky heel who should be feeling understanding and the spirit of giving, especially at this time of year.

And then I see IT.

There is a special, close-to-the-front-door parking space for people who own a HYBRID.  That's right, the vehicle.  At this point Dave has parked a Sahara Desert away and I have to walk through the polar temperatures to find out that "there are no trees available today.  Please walk back past all the specialty parking spots to your car, and please, feel as if we are rubbing it in.  If you have not reached your vehicle in 5 years, surely your family will come looking for you and we will send out a search party for you then.  Happy travels!".

As I walked passed the special hybrid car spots, I wanted a car to be in it so I could glare at it.  I wanted to meanly think to myself, "Oh! I see why you needed to park there!  Your neck can't support your FAT ARROGANT HEAD to walk very far.  You carry the weight of the pompous world on your  shoulders, and I can only imagine how heavy that must be"*.

And then I would excuse myself.  Because I would need all my strength to walk the weary distance to my own car, only hoping for a miracle that one day, us  non-pregnant-family-toting-hybrid-owning lowly folk will somehow catch a break.

*I am obviously kidding and don't actually think this way.  Just a little disclaimer for any folks who may think I am that mean!!  I'm not.  I'm a model.  I don't have time to be mean. 
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