Pandorah's Box

Over the last few weeks Dave has been involved in something pretty amazing.  He was chosen, along with four others, to be a part of a director/ composer match up where an established director gave him a scene from a short film they have made, and his job was to compose the music for it.  He was chosen above many others who entered the program, and he was chosen along with some very very talented people.

The first week was spent composing the score for the scene.  He had to then send his work to the director to approve it.  Once the final score was given the green light, he had to orchestrate his score on paper so that a real live orchestra could record it.  Pretty amazing I think!  To be able to hear your music being played by a live orchestra?  That's an accomplishment that not too many can say they have experienced.

So, I am visual type person.  In the worst way possible.  When someone tells me that their gaping wound is disgusting, I can't really put enough onus on just the word...I need to see it.  And I will ask to do so, all the while with a feeling of dread and a look of terror written all over my face about what I am about to see.  And then the image will haunt me for a lifetime.  

I was a smoker for ten years.  I tried to quit 3 times before it finally worked (6 years smoke free yay!).  You know what made me quit right then and there?  Looking at pictures of diseased lungs.  And then picturing my lungs as blackened bits of flesh of which I swear I could hear the sound of each piece of healthy lung shrivel up and fall off into my body cavity to never be found again.  So gross.

I used to be a huge chip fanatic (or crisps my lovely British friends).  When I stopped eating anything that has MSG in it, well that cut out about 95% of the chip brands out there.  Because I couldn't eat what I loved, I replaced it with sweets, which we all know aren't ANY better.  So thinking about the possible cavities I was brewing in my mouth did nothing to make me stop eating all that sugar.  I can THINK about it all I want...if I can't see it, it doesn't exist right?

Well, today I went to the dentist for the first time in 6 years (GAH! I know! I couldn't afford it all that time!), and I have FOUR CAVITIES.  I almost passed out when the dentist told me.  And then he showed me my x-rays, and there they were...four invasive, nasty bits of tooth that are all I can think about now.

I need to take a stand here folks.  I grew up always eating 'junk food'.  Now, don't get me wrong, I ate healthy for the main meals of the day, but we always got junk food as a 'treat' for eating our dinner, or for snacks at school.  I think this is wrong.  I am not a parent so I am not going to judge because I have NO idea, believe me, but I think it was wrong for ME.  Because now I 'reward' myself with junk food, and that is TERRIBLE.  Fast food and super sweet/ salty snacks are not a TREAT.  They are a death sentence.  

I have really started to feel this way as of late.  I think it is so unfair that the fast food industry are allowed to make commercials for their 'delicious' food and push it as if they are drug dealers.  What's next people?  Selling heroin on t.v?  People feel good doing that shit too right?  So why would we think that THIS stuff is ok for us to consume?

Now I am not trying to get all high and mighty on anyone here, because I EAT THIS CRAP.  I just need to stop.  I have been trying like crazy over the past few weeks to convince myself I don't want it, even if it is easier and I am too tired to cook.  But it is so hard.  It really IS like a drug. Where are the food police when you need them?

So what's on my agenda tonight folks?  Looking at some pictures of arteries clogged with plaque and fat perhaps?.  Did you even know that your arteries can become clogged with plaque?  I didn't, but boy oh boy, do I ever know this now.  Do yourself a favor and DON'T Google that image if you don't want to barf.

I am hoping this sparks a change in the way I think about food.  I want to be on this planet for a long, long time. 

So I used to be a big believer in the supernatural.  I stress the word 'used' to.  Then I met Dave.  Mr. There-is-a-rational-explanation-for-everything.  And he took the fun out of my belief.  What a jerk I know.

We used to watch a ton of ghost/ supernatural/ weird type shows together, and every time we would watch them, Dave would bring in his scientific explanation for what REALLY happened there, and how people like to trick themselves into thinking that it is something unexplained.

Now don't get me wrong, I am not one to believe in unicorns and fairies, I just like the idea of the unknown.  It's mysterious, it's odd, it lends a sense of something to life that rational explanations don't.  I like scaring myself, I like thinking about things possibly being true, and I get excited when I hear about strange things happening to people.  My family has always been big believers of the 'what if', and I think as long as it isn't carried too far, there is nothing wrong with feeling that way.

And again, then I met Dave.  I started swaying towards his way of thinking.  And things like scary shows/ movies/ video games have become a little 'blah'.  Because I no longer have that sense that weird things COULD and DO happen.  I don't want to become a rational person, I want to continue to believe in the mystery of things.  Because really, YOU NEVER KNOW.

Something happened last night that made me question rationality.  Tell me what you think:

Yesterday was the anniversary of my grandmother's death.  I was thinking about her all day, not being sad about it or anything as 9 years have passed, but just thinking about her and when she was around and the funny things she used to do.  Now, my grandmother was like my second mother.  She lived with us almost my whole life and in traditional European fashion, she took care of us as if we were her children.  I miss her all the time, and yesterday was just a day that I thought about her a lot.  

Last night at around 11:30, Dave and I were winding down, watching a movie (Conan the Barbarian..why? Because I am the best girlfriend ever).  I had mentioned something about my dad, something about how this was his favorite movie and how he and Dave needed to watch it together and form some kind of bro-mance, and then I mentioned something after that about my grandmother (my dad's mom).  And then our T.V. turned itself off, and then on again, and our record player turned itself on and was spinning without the needle being engaged to do so.  Controllers were no where near us, and both of those things were in two separate plugs, on two separate walls.  

I asked Dave what he thought that could be?  And I jokingly said "Hi Baba! Nice of you to visit!".  And Dave started going on about radio frequencies and the like, and how that happens sometimes.  

Anyone have a better explanation? 

I am ashamed.  I did something this weekend that I feel bad about, and although I came out in the open about it, it does nothing to alleviate my feelings of shame and regret.  What did I do, you ask?

I ate some icing.  

That icing right there.  Ugh.

Let me give you a little background on this:  

Right before I went on my cleanse, Dave and I bought stuff to make cupcakes.  You know, to allow me to enjoy one last fling before I committed to a month of food celibacy.  Now, I HATE buying icing, I would rather make it from scratch, because if there is a container of that stuff anywhere in my house, I will find it and consume it all until I am bloated and experiencing a bad case of sugar shock.  I just can't help myself.  

But we bought a container.  And Dave made me promise that I wouldn't eat any...not only for me, but because he wanted us to make more cupcakes once my cleanse was over.  He also said something along the lines of "I love you, and I will not enable you to kill yourself this way".....thanks Dave, glad to know you care.  Also, LAY OFF the A&E channel would you?

So I promised.  Crossed my heart and hope to die.  And THEN I ATE SOME.  This came about on Saturday night when Dave told me he was going out for the evening to his friends house to watch the fight.  He left, and I left my body in an out of this world sugar coma experience.  Oh my goodness the icing.

He called me when he was on his way home later that night.  I quietly and shamefully told him I had a confession to make.  Our conversation went like this:

Me: So, I did something bad.

Dave: Okay....what did you do?

Me: Ummm....I ate some icing.  Like a lot of it.  While I was watching Sex and the City, which makes it even more terrible.  And the worst thing about it all is that as SOON as you said you were going out for the night it was the first thing that crossed my mind. I PLOTTED eating the icing before you were even out of the house.  I am sorry.

Dave: (silence).  It's okay honey...at least you told me about it, and that's the first step in the healing process.

Maybe I DO need an icing intervention.

Today I woke up and checked out the what the weather was going to be like, as this is something I do every day.  The second I open my eyes.  Because I need to know.  

This places me in a very good position: people talk to me and always ask me about the weather.  Small talk without the awkwardness, because in this case, they REALLY want to know.  Also, everyone thinks I am awesome because at any given time, I can tell you what the temperature is.  Maybe even a little something about barometric pressure if you are so keen.

Just a teeny aside here, I have to say that I find it strange when people are completely oblivious to the weather.  I mean, OBVIOUSLY they can look outside, or even walk out there, but to NEVER know what it is going to be LIKE? For shame.  This is a neglectful way to live.  Especially when you walk in the door at work everyday complaining about how cold/ rainy/ hot it is and how you didn't dress appropriately for the weather.  I shake my head at your obliviousness because there is a little something that can help you out with being more aware...it's called THE FORECAST.

Anyway, wow...all those words that have nothing to do with this story.  

So, I checked the weather and saw that not only was it going to be effing cold today, but it was going to be like living in the ARCTIC tomorrow.  And Dave and I had to go grocery shopping.  There was no way I was going out in -27C weather (-16F) to pick up a few necessities.  No way.  I suggested to Dave that we go today, knowing that he was very busy.  He said as much to me and I acknowledged it, but then I was EVIL and suggested we go to our favourite breakfast place.  He excitedly said yes.  To which I replied, "Sweet! Since we are already out there, lets go pick up those groceries!".  Ah yes, I am the devil in disguise.

We are waiting to order at our favourite place, standing just behind this older man who looked like he was barfed off the page of a Wrangler ad, when we hear him say to the poor server (who is a woman), "Mmmmmm", (licks lips) "I love the red heads...I bet you are a natural aren't ya?".

Ummmm...ewwww!  What a douche bag!  The girl was so uncomfortable that all she could do was bore a hole in the counter with her glare.  Why would this man think that saying that is appropriate?  It is not cute or appreciated by people who have to work in customer service who are forced to deal with gross old men.  It is not a compliment.  Actually, when faced with the comments of gross old men, we wait for you to leave and we tear you apart with our co-workers.  And we all vomit in our mouths a little thinking about you. 

So, note to gross old men:  keep it to yourselves eh?  I only WISH that girl had said, "YES, the curtains do match the drapes, and you are the LAST person on this earth who will ever get to see it".

Yesterday I decided to try and get pre-approved for a mortgage.  I know right?!  What an adult thing to do.  Only....not really.

I did it for fun.  I know damn well that NO ONE is going to approve me for a mortgage, never mind PRE-approve me.  But I thought I would give it a shot.  You know that whole 'hope for the best but prepare for the worst' fortune cookie mantra I got when I was 15?  WELL!  I got a NEW one and it promises that good things will happen to me this year!!  And a fortune cookie is NEVER wrong.

So I went for it.  There were two questions in particular that I had to answer truthfully.  They went a little like this:

Down payment amount: 0

Savings: 0

Think I will get pre-approved with those amounts?  Ha! Like I said, it was all in good fun.  Little did I know that they actually assign a real person to CALL you after going over your application.  If I had known that, I wouldn't have wasted anyone's time.  I thought it would simply be an email telling me how big of a loser I am and to try again next time.  Talk about bad karma.

I was telling Dave all about my 'serious' application for a mortgage when my phone rang.  It was my assigned person from the bank!  Shit!  Because I was just telling Dave about it and laughing, it all became a bit ridiculous really.  So when she asked me why I put zero dollars down for those entries, and I heard my ludicrous answer of "Because that's how much I have", I had to pull the phone away from my mouth so she wouldn't hear my laughter.  And then I REALLY had to stifle my giggles when she told me in all seriousness that it's hard to get approved by the bank with nothing in the bank.  SIGH.  I went from being an adult to a child in less than 24 hours.  No one will ever take me seriously now.  In five years when I for real want to buy a house the bank will look back to my 'joke' application and deny me for being such a smart ass.  

Thankfully I didn't waste too much of her time as she asked me if it was too late to call.  Well, yes actually, it is almost 10PM.  Who calls that late?  She asked if I preferred an email and I said yes.  

At least she won't hear me laughing when I read her email denying me a mortgage.

I am in what you would call an 'equal relationship', meaning not one of us has more chores/ duties/ emotions/ problems/ bills then the other.  We truly are a team when it comes to this relationship.  Now believe me, I am not delusional in thinking that absolutely everything is split down the middle, but for the most part we do a good job in helping one another out when it's needed, or stepping back when that is needed as well.

Now, I am not saying this because I think our relationship is the shit.  I am saying it because you have no idea the internal struggle it takes every day to believe that this kind of thing is ok.  WTF, you say?  I will explain.

I grew up seeing my mother do EVERYTHING.  She worked two jobs and would come home and cook for her husband and children and not bat an eyelash.  I learned in school that to be a demure, caring woman to your family, that is just what you do.  A woman is meant to sacrifice their happiness/ comfort in order to please everyone else.  I also watched my grandmother dote on my dad and brother every second of the day, even when she was too tired or sore to do so.  I made a PACT with myself that I would never be with a man who expected this from me.  

And I have been very successful in holding myself to this pact.  I have been smart/ lucky enough to be with men who are a little more sensitive and who WANT to help out when it comes to household chores, but believe me when I say this does not come easy for me.

Here is where the brainwashing part comes in:  I have to fight with myself that I DESERVE this.  I have incredible feelings of guilt when Dave picks up the vacuum, or when he does the dishes after dinner, or when he cleans up cat barf.  Because I have always been taught that that is MY job.  Thank god I am on the dying end of a generation who was taught these dated rules to live by.  Or are girls still gently brainwashed to feel bad when someone does something nice for them?  

It has been a long journey to get to where I am today.  And I am always working on it.  Dave laughs at me when I tell him I feel this way, but it really is something that I have to contend with.  On a funnier note, I remember the first time my mom made me feel like I should do more to be a good host to some friends that were over.  She said, "You are a terrible host.  Ask your friends if you can get them anything".  My response?  "Yeah right.  They know where the fridge is".

Anyone else get 'crazy brain' at the thought of someone coming into your home to do some repairs?  Oh lord, I do.

When my landlord called me late in the evening last night to ask if he and his handyman could come up and take a look at the work that needs to be done, my blood pressure went from it's normal state of 'always ready to flee', to full on 'DANGER' mode.  Because I knew (and so did he) that the repairs would be a bit extensive (we had our bedroom window skylight leak because it was very old, and it destroyed one entire wall of our bedroom, and part of the wall in the bathroom beneath it).  When Dave told me that the job would take an entire WEEK to complete (here's hoping) and that the guy would be there everyday at 9AM (I am not awake by 9AM! NOT AWAKE!), I could feel my brain turning into the spaz case that it is.

So here I am at work, while poor Dave has to deal with the banging and drilling and thumping while he is trying to be inspired to compose a song for a movie.  I feel for him, as he has to deal with the brunt of this situation  But you know what I have to deal with?  WONDERING what the repair guy is up to.  And how much of a mess is he making?  And will he clean up that mess?  And how long do I have to live in total and utter CHAOS before I give up and die?  ARRGGG!  

Seriously.  I am over here insanely obsessing about dust and if the guy is wearing his snowy shoes in my house and oh god what will I come home to? A fun house of horror, that's what.  I asked Dave to let me know what my stress level should be like before I get home tonight.  He asked how he should determine this and then he said "So far he has only been in the bathroom to see what he needs to do in there".  I answered with,"STRESS LEVEL ALREADY AT FIVE!".

Ah yes, to be neurotic and spastic.  Anyone else get this way or is it just me?

So that 'gentle' cleanse I have been taking?  Not so gentle.  

This is my fourth time taking this specific cleanse, and I have never reacted this way.  My whole body feels empty, purged of everything.  I am surprised I don't have a rash, which are common with cleanses, as they get rid of any impurities through any means possible.  Through your sweat, skin, urine, but mostly in your poop.  Haha.  I hope you are picturing that right now.

I feel like a ship out on stormy seas, and in order to keep the boat afloat, everything in it that is weighing it down needs to be thrown overboard.  I am hoping it ends soon and the good affects of the cleanse take over.  Because it really does feel great.  But right now....blah.  And I can't even drink to take my mind off of it.  What have I been putting into my body lately that is causing it to react this way?  Good grief.

Also, today I had my first therapy session.  It was interesting and intense.  In one short hour I feel like I purged out my mental insides, but then took them back and stuffed them in my brain, which made me feel worse than before I went in.  I imagine that this is normal.  It's only the first session, and there hasn't been a build up of trust, therefore it's hard to let things go in one hour.  A lifetime of things.  But I will keep you posted on THAT.  It will be a lot of work to fix my level of crazy.

Tonight, I am looking forward to spreading myself out on the couch and watching garbage t.v.  Excuse me while I go do just that.

Today has been...uuhhhh.  Yeah.  That's all I can say.  It hasn't been bad, it hasn't been good.  But you guys know how I feel about Monday's: I think they are unfair and should be outlawed.  

This morning I was ripped out of my sleep by a cat beginning their barfing ritual on the bed.  Why do they like puking on the bed?  There is an ocean of easy-to-clean hardwood floor to vom all over....why the bed?  So normally when this happens I lift the cat as gently as I can and place them on said hardwood floor to happily ralph away.  Only this morning because I was slammed out of sleep by the sounds of a cat dying, and it was still dark out because it's freaking Winter and dark all the time, I wasn't entirely with it.  Also, my arms were completely asleep, so I may or may not have launched the cat a little harder than I thought?  The giant smack of her hitting the wardrobe made me flip my shit and scramble out of bed to check on her.  I put my hand in her barf when I somersaulted out of bed too.  She was fine.  I fed them right after this and she scarfed down her breakfast and smiled at me, letting me know that she was conjuring up another barf from that tasty morsel.  Can't wait.

I walk to work everyday, and normally I don't mind.  It gives me time to listen to music and wake myself the eff up.  This morning since it felt like -22C out there (-8F for my American friends), I minded.  I also almost wiped out on three separate occasions.  This makes me less confident about my walking skills and I begin to feel like an old lady.  And because of my peripheral vision being taken away on account of my furry hood, someone walked up beside me to pass me on the sidewalk and I almost had a heart attack because I didn't see/ hear them.  Shit.

At least I get to leave early today.  I have an appointment.  I told my boss that I had to leave a whopping two hours earlier but that I would make the time up tomorrow.  She gave me a dirty look.  I wanted to punch her, but that's nothing new.

I love Monday!!!!!

UPDATE:  WOAH! I just almost pooped my pants.  I am obviously at work right now and I was trying to be sneaky about writing this blog post.  I hit 'publish post', all proud of myself that I was able to write it without being caught when a suit asked me if they could send me a document to print out.  Of course I said sure.  When the document appeared in my email it was titled BLUE MONDAY.  OMG.  My crazy brain spiraled into a panic attack where I was convinced they were watching me like Big Brother, and this was their way of letting me know I was caught.  GAH!  Breathe, breathe....one, two...

Anyway, it had nothing to do with anything, just a weird coincidence.  Yikes.

I went and spent most of my money today on these:

A plethora of vitamins and other things of the sort.  Because it's at this time of the year where my body starts to slow down, to get very tired.  So I go and bone up on a crap load of vitamins and things that are good for me.

After the holidays and after all the shit I put into myself at that time, never mind drinking my face off for a month, my body starts to beg me to take care of it.  So for the past three years I have done a Cleanse Smart cleanse.  It is gentle, and forgiving, and doesn't leave you feeling hungry or like you have pooped your brains out.  Let's be honest now...it IS what a cleanse does.

Cleanses are awesome when you choose the right one.  There are two weeks ones, or four day ones, but ones that are quick do things well.....quicker.  I honestly don't want my insides falling out of me in four days, so that is why I choose a gentler one.  The one I like doesn't tell you to stop eating or anything like that.  It just suggests to eat better, to watch what you ingest.  And I tend to go all out and follow it and then some.  No drinking, no greasy foods, no junk food, not too much red meat.  Just tons of lean meats, veggies and fruit.  This is why it is awesome.  And also ugh.

So tonight I made cupcakes.  I am going to stuff my face with chocolate and drink beer.  Because those things make me happy, and if I have to eat like a Mennonite for the next month, I am going to enjoy my last night in food hell before I go to cleansed body heaven.

At least the cupcakes are organic, right?

I cannot tell you guys how much I DESPISE grocery shopping.  The walking there, the wrestling for a cart, the people, ALL THE PEOPLE, the wrangling of all that crap home.  Sigh.   

Now I am not entirely sure BUT, I am pretty sure that people lose their brains when they go grocery shopping.  I don't.  I am more like a drill sergeant....I know what I want and I want to be in and out of there ASAP.  Hehe.  I won't point out the obvious in that statement.  

Since there is a storm on it's way tonight, people are extra crazy when they are grocery shopping.  They believe they have to shop for Armageddon, like the world stops because of a tiny winter storm.  So when Dave and I HAD to go grocery shopping tonight, I was kind of dreading it.  It's Friday night, a storm is coming, and people are end-of-week insane.  Not a good combo, if you know what I mean.

Dave knows that I have everything we need stored away in my head.  He is perfectly fine with following me around and keeping tabs of the total while I grab this and that off the shelves.  He is happy with the fact that I have grocery shopping for the week fine-tuned to take only half an hour.  So when people get in my way, I have to count to ten.  And when people stop to WINDOW SHOP for their food, he has to hold me back from committing violence.

There was one family in particular that was making me CRAZY.  You know the kind of people that are everywhere you need to be?  They were that kind.  A woman, her father, and her baby.  Who happened to look like the kid from The Shining, but hey, I ain't judging.  The first time they came into my life was when I wanted to grab a package of bacon.  They were taking up the entire bacon section and were ARGUING about which bacon has more fat, and which one would be tastier?  And was there enough meat on this one?  ARGGHH! I could see the package of bacon I wanted, and they were discussing what kind of pig this and that bacon came from.  Thankfully, staring all my violence into the floor works wonders to diffuse it.  

And then there they were in the soup aisle.  Debating salt content and fat content in a can of soup.  Now I commend you for wanting to make an effort into paying attention to what goes in your body, but BACON?  And CANNED SOUP?? Both are bad for you! Just choose one and get on with your fat consuming life!!

At one point we accidentally were blocking them from grabbing something.  Dave went to go and move the cart, saying that he was in their way and felt bad.  My answer?

KARMA.

They finally called me on Tuesday.  I was at work so I had to wait a few more painstaking hours before the glasses would be in my hands.  I ended up leaving a teensy bit early to go and get them.  I walked in the store and told them why I was there.  The dude just looks at me with confusion and tells me that he had not received any glasses in that day.  I told him that I got a phone call saying they were delivered earlier.....

They were sent to the wrong store.

Sigh.

For some reason I knew this was going to happen.  I had said so earlier that day when I stated that I feared my glasses were lost in the mail.  Maybe it's because I put it out into the universe?  I don't effing know! I just wanted my glasses.

I couldn't call the original store because it was too late, and there was no way in hell I was traveling as far as I would have had to get the glasses from the other, wrong store.   So I waited until the next day and called the original glasses people to let them know that I was unhappy with the fact that they sent them to the wrong place when I specifically said WHICH store to send them to.  The office manager let me say what I had to say and then rolled her eyes and said "Yeah, ok.  I will fix it".  Good grief.  And yes, I KNEW she was rolling her eyes at me, I could hear it in her voice.

So I had to wait another two days for them to come in, which they finally did yesterday.  I  power walked to the store and told the guy my glasses had come in. He got them for me and proceeded to tell me that a person from the original store called HIM to apologize for the mistake.  A WHA WHA??  That's great that the guy who was put out the LEAST in the whole situation got an apology.  I hope it made him feel better?

And there you go. 

Around three weeks ago, I went and had my eyes checked.  I am telling you this because it is a big deal.  I hadn't had my eyes checked in SIX YEARS.  Therefore I have been wearing the same glasses for six years and they are pretty much done.  They are rough looking, and barely fit my head anymore.

So here is the exciting part!! I bought TWO new pairs of glasses.  The decision to buy a pair of glasses is much bigger than you think, for those of you who are not cursed with four eyes.  So I asked the glasses guy to help me choose the BEST pair of glasses for me.  My big gay glasses guy.  I knew I was in good hands.  

I told him to not be afraid to rip my choices apart.  This is what I NEEDED.  An advocate for me to look my best.  I mean, usually glasses are the first thing that people see...I need to coordinate my outfits around those babies!  It was a quick process.  I explained to him what I was looking for, he found me a plethora of different pairs to try, and pretty much 'yes' or 'no'-ed me until just the right two pairs were chosen.  And he wasn't afraid to tell me when certain ones looked ugly.  I love him.  

So I busted out a little Skid Row love after dinner with my best rendition of I Remember You.  Anyone remember that song?

I was trying to jog Dave's memory by pulling it up on my iPhone, but to no avail.  The internets were failing me and my great desire to hear Sebastian Bach's voice rip through my kitchen to reach my ears, which would be swooning.  Oh yes, I used to swoon over this man:

Anyway, in the suggested videos section, Warrant's Cherry Pie pops up, just begging me to watch it.  I ask Dave if he remembers that one?  He doesn't.  Isn't he in for a treat!  I click on said video and it begins to play.  It starts with a big build up of music and some mental face-making by the band members, but it keeps STOPPING 11 seconds in.  No amount of refreshing, or turning airport off and then on again, would make the video go past those 11 seconds.  Right at the pinnacle of the song rocking out in full force, it would pause.

Well, Dave was getting angrier and angrier at You Tube and the internet.  I do believe there was a red face involved, clenched fists, and a venomous shout of "I am going to PUNCH YOU TUBE IN THE FACE!!!".  Calm down man!  I mean, I know how much you want to see Jani Lane's glamourous mullet and pushed to the side package, but it's not worth the headache!

In order to calm him down, I told him I was going to write about this on the internet and embarrass him.  He was able to stop thinking about it when I looked up something else to listen to.  We watched a few other videos, but I could tell that he was ITCHING to get to his computer to load the video and watch it.  

As he was leaving to do just that, he asked "Are you really going to write about this on the internet?".  I answered that yes Dave, I sure am.  He laughed and called me something that rhymes with 'witch'.  

Enjoy your Warrant video Dave.  Don't get too enamoured with the cock rock boys and their lip gloss.

Hey there!  Today I had a crazy idea to make a Vlog.  So that's what you are going to get in this here post. Just a few things:

-I say "so yeah..." a lot.  Sorry about that.  First vlog jitters.

-My voice doesn't ACTUALLY sound that calm or smooth.  Picture an angry, red-faced seaman (haha!) and that's what I hear in my head.

That's an awesome face I have there.  I am serious about letting me know what you think.  If it's dumb just tell me and I will shun you forever listen.

UPDATE:  Dave and I went food shopping and were falling over starving while doing it.  We had to return the car we rented which meant we had to walk home while falling over starving, so we bought a big bag of spicy Doritos for the walk.  And we ate the WHOLE THING.  Then I made lo mein for dinner.  Ugh.  Ralph city.

About a week before Christmas, Dave and I wanted to check out our local pet food store to buy some catnip toys for the children.  What? You don't think of your animals that way?  Well, keep reading.  I am not the only one.

So this pet food store is one of those hippie type ones that is all natural and has about a million dogs running around at all times.  There is even a gate that you have to pass through just to get into the store so that the dogs don't get out.  This is good! I like this!  I love dogs like the dickens but can't get one due to apartment living and one cat who is a severe spaz.  So when there are a thousand of them vying for your attention and sniffing your butt as you shop, this is not an issue to me.  Hey! It's even a little fun!  You get goosed in a non-pervy way and only feel a little dirty afterward.

The issue was that none of their cat toys had any prices on them.  Easy fix...just ask the girl working there.  Who also did not know the prices of the toys so then had to ask another dude who was wasting time working there who claimed he doesn't 'do' prices.  Ok.  So she then goes to a staircase and screams down that she needs to know the price of cat nip toys all the while I am being knocked over by dogs who are drooling like mad.

There were two dogs in particular, mini dachshunds who were to-die-for adorable.  I began cooing at them quietly and in a split second the shop girl was standing beside me, leaning in close to tell me that those two were 'her babies'.  Ok cool, I also call my cats my children, but only to people who know me and the whole world everyone who reads this blog.  Not to any old stranger on the street. 

She started telling us the story of how their lives became intertwined and how much she loves them, and how she took them for a ride on the subway the other day and how they were soooooo good!  Such good little babies!  This is still not even freaking me out.  I have many friends who are passionate about their animals and I think it's great.  It was when she picked one of them up and snuggled it close to her breast and whispered, "This little guy even has a nursery rhyme!".  She closed her eyes and began to sing:

Seriously?  I couldn't get out of there fast enough.  It was all I could do not to squeeze Dave's hand into oblivion to try and transfer all my laughter into the crushing motion.  Oh. My. God.  

Now, I am known to speak to my pets in a range that is glass shattering and sickly cutesy-wuetsy, by my god woman!  KEEP IT CONTAINED!

I was walking home from work tonight in a raging snowstorm, listening to music on my iPod and trying not to fall on my ass.  An older man who was coming out of a store almost knocked me over.  My music was loud so I assumed that his gestures were a sweeping apology, and that his moving lips were saying, "I am very sorry for almost knocking you down m'lady".  When he held out his arm to me, as if to escort me the rest of the way home, my crazy meter went into the red zone and I lowered my head and began walking faster.

What is with me and attracting creep-o's every time I leave my house?  Seriously, the stories would astound you.  A week ago I was standing outside in the freezing cold waiting for the bus.  It was VERY early and I was trying my hardest to disappear into my jacket to keep warm, a thick scarf practically hiding my entire face from the world.  I happened to glance up at the cars waiting for the light to change from red to green and I noticed this old dude staring me down in the pervy-est way.  He sort of cocked his head to the side and then gestured for me to get into the car, trying to seem all innocent-like, as if he was only going to give me a friendly ride to wherever I wanted to go.  RIGHT BUDDY.  You and your bloody axe in the trunk.  Seriously though, WTF?  It was early, I was amongst a crowd of people waiting for a bus.  Not every woman standing around at a corner is a prostitute asshole!

Anyway, back to old guy number one holding his arm out to me.  He keeps pace with me as I attempt to walk away from him.  I am obviously not listening to his crazy as he continues to speak and grin at me like he is telling me the coolest thing in the world.  Finally I pull a headphone out of my ear and bark, "WHAT?", and he starts gabbing away to me about how much he loves snow and the correct way to shovel it and New Brunswick.  I am all nodding, sort of, trying not to appear too much like a bitchy Torontonian when all the while my brain is working like a computer, scanning the situation and putting out sensors to distinguish whether this guy is going to pull me down a dark alley and chop me up into tiny pieces kind of crazy, or if he just has no conversation filter and speaks to everyone on the street kind of crazy.  After some heavy weighing of these options, I finally come to the conclusion that the guy is harmless and doesn't realize that you shouldn't talk to a chick walking home by herself at night because she is automatically going to think you are a rapist.  Luckily the guy was all "don't let me bother you", so that was my out to let him know I needed to make a phone call.  I said thanks for the chat and pretended to call someone while he walked away.  Awesome.

P.S- In the world according to harmless weird guy, getting up at 3AM is prime time to shovel your snow.  So if you see this loner out there at that godforsaken hour, tell him Kato says hey.

Ok, this story guys...I only wish there were pictures to go along with it. 

Just before Christmas I was visiting my parents before they took off for a Christmas vacation.  I arrived on a Friday night, and as I walked in the house, my mother mentioned to me that the cat had been chasing a mouse but she wasn't sure if she got it.  So if I saw it, try to catch it and put it outside.  No problem.  I forgot about the whole conversation and fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

The next morning I had to wake up fairly early to go to an eye doctor appointment.  While I was getting myself ready, my father yells,

"There goes the mouse!! Wait...that's not a mouse! It's a SQUIRREL!".

Great.

The poor, terrified thing runs into my parents room where my mother, myself, the dog and the cat go tearing after it.  After a few minutes of a lot of barking and screeching and screaming and confusion, it runs into the bathroom just off the bedroom.  I swoop in and close the door, and it is contained.  

The next part, catching it with a blanket, is easy right?  No, it's not.  Want to know why?

Because when they are scared or feeling cornered and in danger, SQUIRRELS ARE INSANE.  I had to hold the bedroom door closed while my mom chased it around the room.  To no avail.  It climbed up walls, bounced from the ceiling to the floor, shimmied up a light switch, hung from a light fixture, launched itself off the window frame, scurried under the bed, across the bed, everywhere.  Also, it completely took a shit everywhere it ran.  Poor scared thing, but seriously now...RELAX.

Keep in mind that the dog is furiously trying to get in, my mom and I are screaming like little girls every time it moved or came near one of us.  At one point it flung itself on my leg and began to climb higher so I kicked out a little to let it know I was a living thing who did not appreciate this kind of erratic behaviour.  After 10 minutes of chasing it around the room, I told my old mom to take a rest and I would try the slow, sneaky approach.  It had come to a rest on the window frame, high above my head.  I held the towel up so that I could, what?  Show it that I was surrendering?  There was no way I could have caught it at that height.  But I continued to walk up to it anyway. towel raised, shuffling my feet slowly.

And then it jumped.  ONTO MY FACE.  This is what I saw:

Yes, the freaking thing launched itself onto my face and held on for dear life.  I began screaming that it was attached to my face! attached to my face!  I was terrified it was going to claw my eyes out.  But it didn't.  Instead, it climbed up my face (scratching my nose in the process) and boinged! off my head.  I looked towards my mother, expecting to see a look of horror on her face, maybe concern over whether or not I had just contracted rabies.  But she was doubled over, holding her stomach and laughing her ass off.  To the point where she couldn't breathe.  Because it wasn't on HER face, right?

Finally after all the commotion, my father came in (he was probably not helping on purpose so that he could listen to us carrying on like babies), picked the squirrel up within seconds, and gently put it outside.  

All I have left to say is this:  TELL ME HOW YOU REALLY FEEL SQUIRREL.

In my soon to be yearly tradition of taking a look back at my year through photos, I present you with 2010: A Year in Photographs. If you have not yet experienced 2009: A Year in Photographs, click here.

2010 was a tough year.  Not just for me.  For everyone around me.  It was a burden that I am glad to be rid of.  Of course I try my hardest to see the positive in things, and there is MUCH for me to be positive for in 2010.  But it was very, very hard.  I lost three people who were always in my life, I got real with myself and realized that I really do suffer from depression and I need help, and many people I love went through very difficult things that I experienced along with them.  I know it could have been worse, but it also could have been better.

But in difficult times is when one is inspired to change.  To become a better person, and love more and see the light in others.  Although it has felt like a very dull year for me on top of everything else, I also feel like I have spent a year in getting to know and understand my friends more, to relax more, and to push through the dark to see the light on the other side.

In 2010: A Year in Photographs, I experienced (in order):

-My five year anniversary with the man I love, and will always love.

-Spending a lot more time with one of my best's, John.

-Spending the most relaxing vacation ever, with another of my best's Chrissy, at her beautiful cottage up North.

-Buying a new T.V!  Man, was this a long time coming!

-Visiting (breaking into) a college where my ALL TIME favourite show Degrassi was filmed in the 80's and early 90's.  Playing hooky from work to go on an adventure and visit my old 'hood with Dave on a beautiful, perfect Summer day.

-Eating red velvet cheesecake for the first time, and getting HOOKED.  It's like CRACK.

-Going bowling at a stinky bowling alley for Jessi's birthday.  Getting drunk and eating greasy fast food afterwards.  Ahh yes, the life of a teenager.

-Celebrating my beautiful sister's 18th 35th birthday.  Oh god.  The Jello shooters.

-John's pornstache.  Enough said.

-Celebrating my 62nd (31st) birthday with an old friend.  Many funny faces were born on this night.

-Short, fat Christmas tree of love.  And a lot of snow and cold.

-The shoes that needed a little help to make my feet feel less tortured.  Krista's work Christmas party from hell.

-Staying up WAY too late to watch the full lunar eclipse.  My god how I wanted to die at work the next day.  But it was worth it.

-New Years Eve at John's.  I don't think we ate enough.  30,000 calories just didn't cut it for me.

And here it all is:

Song is 'Just Breathe', by Pearl Jam.

Since the last year has been one of the worst in my recent memory (I feel bad even saying this because I know of so many people who had an even worse year), I am so excited for what 2011 may bring.  I have a feeling it is going to be a great year.  So in my tradition of naming my years, I have dubbed 2011 'The Year of Me'.  Sound selfish? It's because it is, a little, but in a good way.  But before I elaborate on what the 'Year of Me' consists of, let me remind you of the past few years and what they consisted of.

2009 was 'The Year of Doing Things'.  That year, Dave and I decided to get out more, have fun, explore the city we live in.  And we did.  2009 saw me taking a sewing class, writing more, reading more, modeling (HA!), going to concerts, dance-offs, and much more.  It was definitely a year of fun and going out a lot with friends and enjoying each other.

After

Now keep in mind that none of these are resolutions.  They are just things that I feel have been pushed aside for too long.  Things that need to be taken care of.  I am on the road to a healthier me, in every way.  

2011, I welcome you with open arms!  Happy New Year everyone!