Ruined Dress Entry #3

Vicki's seamstress was unable to fix the dress. She was very nice though, a cute little chinese lady who kept saying "I canno fits, I'm sowwy ma dear".

Grace (coworker) recommended that I visit her dressmaker in Georgetown. Again, she had a "cannot fix" response. She did have a possible solution, however. The dress currently has embroidery running down the side. She suggested that I buy the silver thread, beads, etc. and she could try and continue the embroidery to cover over the spots where the threads are pulled. I'm usually a very visual person but told her that I cannot picture this working (and looking good) for the life of me. She said not to worry. We will try it... as it stands, the dress is unwearable to me anyways.

I will keep you posted.

Regarding the Ruined Dress

Sears will not return/exchange the dress. I have no receipt, no credit card statement, no anything to show when I purchased the dress. It figures, I suppose customer service can only go so far. It's not their fault that my dress is ruined anyways but I just had to give it a try.

Everyone!! is giving me crap for paying the drycleaner. I try to explain how completely distraught I was in that moment but to no avail. I'm still an idiot for paying. And I don't want to go back. I can't stand the thought of seeing that guys face again, I can just picture myself bursting into tears again, and I'm not sure if it's worth the anguish.

So, as it stands, I will be bringing the ruined dress to Vicki's seamstress tomorrow to see if it can be repaired. I doubt it. I'm remaining pessimistic in this circumstance.

My next option is to find a seamstress who can make me a dress. Of course, finding a good one who had time between now and July to custom make a wedding gown may not be the most realistic outlook either.

On a nice note, Jamie has been very comforting and reassures me that everything will be okay.

Oh, the joys of planning a wedding! Things were obviously going much too smoothly.

Again, wish me luck! Feel free to offer suggestions, please!

Ruined

I am spitting fire! MAD!
I just picked up my WEDDING DRESS from the cleaners and it is ruined!
So, here's the story...I bought the dress at Sears. It was a really good price, I wasn't willing to pay a crazy amount for my dress. We're having a simple beach wedding and I wanted a simple dress to match.
I got the dress and it was kinda wrinkly and had a tiny little speck on the front. I brought it to the cleaners (recommended to me by my boss) to get cleaned, pressed, etc.
I went to pick it up today and it's a good thing I took a look inside the dress bag. There are 4 or 5 'hooks', thread-pulls, whatever you wanna call 'em, on the front bodice. It's not good.
I was like, "What IS THIS?" They kept explaining over and over again, etc. etc. etc. all a bunch of bull. I was upset. And then I started to cry, paid for the dress (YES, I paid for it!), and left.
And then my sister gives me crap for paying, rightfully so! But I was so distraught, I couldn't even talk anymore without choking back tears. I'm one of those people who cannot even speak, seriously not even a word, when I'm crying. Paying for it makes me feel even worse. They're idiots and I'm an even bigger idiot!
Unbelieveable!!
So, I just called Sears and told them that the dress is ruined. I didn't give them the WHOLE story but it was enough. The customer service girl said to bring it to the store and if they can see that I haven't worn it already (which, in this case, I honestly haven't) then they should replace it without a problem.
Cross your fingers for me!

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TRACEY!!

Curiosity killed the cat

I am incredibly fascinated by the lives of others. I guess I'm just naturally "nosey". I think it's silly. Why should I care about what other people are doing, or wearing, or feeling? Human nature? A biological response to outside stimuli? All I know is, to know that someone else in the world is experiencing a similar reality (whether good or bad) is comforting. To know that someone else is a complete wacko makes me feel better about myself and my extremely normal (some would say, boring) life.

These thoughts are triggered by a couple of incidences:

This morning, for example, one of our big shots at work walks in with a black eye. Well, actually I wasn't close enough to see if it's a black eye or a cut. Either way....what the heck? He obviously had a much more eventful long weekend than I. I want to straight out ask him what happened but I don't think I will. I'll just wait until the "grapevine" leaks the story. This guy, his life, is crazy to me. He is my poster boy for "Money isn't everything". He has it all, materially speaking, but he seems so unhappy. I wish I knew what was going on in that head of his.

Then yesterday, on my Victoria Day off, I eagerly anticipated seeing Tom Cruise on Oprah. I have to say that I was extremely disappointed and "put off" while watching Tom talk about Katie. He was totally spazzed out. Yes, yes, I know he's in "LOVE"...but who hasn't been? He was jumping on the couch and standing and sitting, standing and sitting, doing high fives, ...I was disoriented and wished he would just sit down and TALK (after all, Oprah is a TALK show). Anyways, all I kept thinking was that he and Katie are just like everyone else who is completely giddy when they first start dating someone. She was infatuated by Tom her whole life. What 20-something girl wouldn't be thrilled by a phonecall from Tom Cruise? And then he KNOWS that she's completely infatuated and therefore takes this opportunity to get over the hump of a mid-life crisis. But who am I to say? It could be real, they could be genuine. But I say let's wait and see what happens when the giddiness is gone, when they really get to know each other. That, in my opinion, is when love (if there is any) really starts.

Lastly, I have to say that I am completely enthralled by this blogging thing. I read my friends blogs and then I read the blogs of the friends of my friends. I read Waiter Rant even though I obviously have no idea who this guy is. But his writing, his life, his silly list of "waiter axioms", I am captivated. I've added him to my favourites because I want to know what's going to happen in the bistro from one day to the next. I also like to read Things I Hate, not necessarily because I agree with everything, but because it seems real to me. I can identify and I think many other people can also identify with the daily annoyances that plague us. We may not start a list but we understand, and we feel better than someone else agrees with our ridiculous opinion that track pants with the elastic bottoms should be outlawed.

Am I the only one who feels this way? Do you also find yourself watching and listening to the lives of others? Wonder what it would be like to walk in their shoes, eat their lunch, live in their house? I'm curious...

Ode to Newfoundland

I just suddenly realized that I barely know the words to this song....

"Ode to Newfoundland"

When sun rays crown thy pine-clad hills,
And summer spreads her hand;
When silvern voices tune thy rills,
We love thee, smiling land;
We love thee, we love thee,We love thee, smiling land.

When blinding storm gusts fret thy shore,
And wild waves lash thy strand;
Thro' spindrift swirl and tempest roar,
We love thee windswept land;
We love thee, we love thee,We love thee windswept land.

When spreads thy cloak of shimm'ring white,
At winter's stern command;
Thro' shortened day and starlit night,
We love thee, frozen land;
We love thee, we love thee,We love thee, frozen land.

As loved our fathers, so we love,
Where once they stood, we stand;
Their prayer we raise to heav'n above,
God guard thee, Newfoundland;
God guard thee, God guard thee,God guard thee, Newfoundland.

The National Anthem of Newfoundland, written by SirCavendish Boyle (1849-1916) while he was Britain's Governor of Newfoundland between 1901 and 1904. Music by C. Hubert H. Parry {1848-1918}. Arranged by Henry Coleman. First public performance on January 21st, 1902.

It's sad but I have to say that I know little about the history of my home province. It's embarrassing to be so ignorant. And as usual, when I want to educate myself, I do research on the internet. Here are a few sites:
http://www.newfoundland.com/content/about/history.html
http://www.durham.net/~kburt/NewfoundlandHistory.html#History
http://www2.marianopolis.edu/nfldhistory/
http://www.newfie.com/pages/newfoundlandhistory.html

My favourite bit of Newfoundland history? (In all the information provided, this tidbit of info really stuck out to me):

In 1497, John Cabot, an English explorer, sailed from England to
Newfoundland. When he returned to England he reported that the codfish on the
Newfoundland Grand Bank’s were so thick that he could scoop them up in baskets
from the sides of the ship.

I am so affected, probably because the opposite is true today. It's very sad, particularly for the old fisherman. They know no other way of life and now it is a life not legally available to them.

Grandfather Bishop must surely be rolling over in his grave. Christa has a picture on her blog of our grandfather. It is a wonderful photo...so reminiscent of days long past. A photo...the only way my children may ever know that this way of life ever existed in my great province.

As promised, pics of Bella's birthday

Isabella's first birthday party on Sunday, May 15th.

Gift from Newfoundland

Gift from Grandma and Poppa. They decided that a Winnie the Pooh suitcase would be perfect for Isabella's summer vacation to PEI and Newfoundland...what a great idea!

The Birthday Girl

Isabella's birthday party guests included Aunt Dianne, Uncle John, Aunt Valerie, Michelle, Brendan, Auntie Myrna, Uncle Jamie, Uncle Darren, Grandma Noreen, Grandpa Junior, Auntie Jen, Mommy, Daddy, and Erykah. She gots tons of gifts, especially lots of beautiful new clothes!

Mmmmm....Yummy Cake!

Happy Birthday Bella!

Isabella - just a few minutes old

Yesterday was Isabella's first birthday. Wow! I am astonished at how quickly time flies. It seems like yesterday could have more easily been the day she was born. 8lbs 8oz, dark hair, big eyes, wrinkled skin. She was a stubborn little thing and gave her mother a very hard time coming into the world. Labour for my sister was much more difficult the second time around than with her first daughter.

My sister, brave soul that she is, decided to have both of her children at home with the aid of *midwives. She wouldn't have it any other way. I was present at a couple of the prenatal appointments and at the birth of both of my nieces. I was absolutely amazed at the great level of care provided by the attending midwives. They were with my sister every step of the way to reassure, comfort, massage, coach, focus, whatever they could do to make the experience as good as possible given the painful circumstances.

I was called by my mother to go to my sister's apartment around midnight (May 17th approaching May 18th) and after many agonizing hours, Isabella was born at approximately 7:20 am. Interestingly enough, my sister tells me that this is the same time that Isabella awakened yesterday morning on her birthday. What a coincedence!

Isabella's big sister, Erykah, was also present for the birth. My sister had actively involved her in visits to the midwife. She had explained in the most age-appropriate way possible about how the baby grew in her tummy and had to eventually come out. For some reason, Erykah had originally thought in her then 3-year old mind that the baby would come out of mommy's mouth. It seems she was told that kissing was how the process of baby-making began. And thus, the association...kissing=baby=mouth....? Ha, Ha, I just think that's so great! Anyways, despite the misunderstanding, Erykah handled the birth extremely well. She knew that mommy was okay and immediately after Isabella was born, Erykah went to her room and pulled out her doctor kit. With stethoscope in hand, she insisted on checking the baby's heartbeat to make sure that all was well. What a great moment!

Ah, to reminisce is wonderful. But unfortunately, Isabella has been sick for her birthday week. Hopefully she'll be feeling better soon, back to her normal "rough and tumble" self.

Tomorrow I hope to have some pics to share from her birthday party and the adventures of fingers and face full of birthday cake.

Darth Tater

I have a collection (well, only 4) of Mr. Potato Heads sitting on top of my deskjet printer at work. I do believe that it drives my boss crazy but he'll never come out and actually say this. I figure if I spend more time in this cubicle than anywhere else, I should be permitted to make it fun and colourful.

I didn't have Mr. Potato Head as a child. My friend Vicki owned one. I loved it. It seems my appreciation for the "classics" started early. This is not to say, of course, that I was deprived of toys in any way as a child. I was quite spoiled.

My first Mr. Potato Head was given to me by my niece for Christmas 3 years ago. He was later joined by Mrs. Potato Head and some new clothing and accessories. This marriage brought forth many comments by my coworkers regarding the need for baby Potato Heads. And so, Phil (guy in the warehouse), decided to buy me one. It seems others enjoy these toys as much as I do.

Yesterday, much to my dismay, Paul (guy here at work) began a new job at a new company. He was an awesome person, a fellow Mr. Potato Head owner, and before he left work on Monday, he decided to pass over custody to me of his limited edition Mr. Potato Head Hockey Player. I was hesitant...his Mr Potato Head has a story, it was a gift from his brother to tease him when he lost a tooth playing hockey. I am honoured to be the new owner.


I've recently learned that there is a new Darth Tater, an extremely cute tribute to Star Wars. I should buy it for Jamie and I. He loves Star Wars and I love Mr Potato Head. It's perfect!


This blog has brought my closer attention to my Potato Heads. I think they're in desperate need of a wardrobe change. Mrs Potato Head's cowgirl arm is falling off and Mr Potato Head's geeky engineer look is boring me. I suppose it might be frowned upon to add new Potato Head clothing to my bridal registry, eh?

This layout was one of my very first. Simply titled "1978", the picture is of my sister and I with mom. I'm the chubby redheaded baby. lol :)

Scrappers Block

I finally got some layouts completed over the past few days. It seems like such a long time since I sat down to do scrapbooking. But Christa and I decided that enough is enough! and we set aside a few hours this past weekend to try and catch up. We should know by now that we can never really get caught up as much as we wish.

I started scrapbooking a couple of years ago after attending a Creative Memories show hosted by a college friend. I was hooked! I love this hobby! It combines my love of journaling and photography. I can be as creative (or not, at times) as I want to be. And most of all, I love the idea of preserving these precious memories for myself and for my future family.

As a child I loved looking at pictures of my mother and father as children. As I teenager my interest in my grandparents old albums grew. It always bothered me tremendously when I would ask questions about the photos only to receive a shrug of the shoulders, an "I don't remember...hmmm? Wonder who that could be?". I really wish I could go back somehow to when that photo was taken, to understand the story behind the smile, to share in the memory of my family's past sorrows and joys.

Now, if only I could get over this slump! I feel like I don't know how to scrapbook anymore, I have no ideas, all of my pages end up looking the same. I need some inspiration! Something must be done to kick-start my creativity. "Two Peas" here I come!

Paraskevidekatriaphobics

I was just reading Christa's blog and it got me thinking about the origins of this "unlucky" day, Friday the 13th.

I decided to research a little bit. It's amazing how much information there is available on the internet regarding this topic.

First of all, I have discovered a new (and impossible to pronounce) word:
Paraskevidekatriaphobics — people afflicted with a morbid, irrational fear of Friday the 13th.

The number 13 seems to have affected us in numerous ways over the years:

• Apartment buildings do not name the 13th floor as such
• Hospitals do not have a 13th operating room
• Times tables in elementary school do not continue past 12 x 12
• A name consisting of 13 letters is considered unlucky (for instance, Charles Manson, Jeffrey Dahmer, Theodore Bundy)
• Many cities do no have a 13th avenue or 13th street
• There are 13 witches in a coven
• Fishermen say: "A Friday's sail, always fail"

There are several explanations that I have read about the origins of this day:

• Something to do with Philip "the beautiful" who was King of France at the turn of the 14th Century. He sent out a letter, a death warrant against the Knights Templar, to all of his officers to be opened on Thursday, Oct 12. This caused the arrest (and torture) and of some 2000 Knights by the morning of Friday the 13th, 1307.
• There were 13 people at the Last Supper, 12 disciples and Jesus. The 13th (and unlucky) person is considered to be Judas Iscariot, the betrayer of Jesus. He rose from the table first, a basis for the superstition that if 13 people are seated at dinner, the 1st person to leave will die.
• The Last Supper set the stage for the crucifixion which happened on a Friday. Other biblical events believed to have occured on a Friday: the language mixup at the tower of Babel, the tempting of Adam by Eve, Noah's great flood, among others.
• The scandinavian belief is that 12 demigods met for a supper and didn't invite the 13th, Loki, who was evil and cruel. He intercepted the "party" anyways and wreaked complete and utter havoc.

BUT, on a reassuring note, I also found many references to the number 13 as a lucky number:

• According to patriarchs in early western civilization, 13 represented femininity.
• Thirteen was revered in goddess worshipping cultures because of its connection with the lunar (menstrual) cycle.
• Ancient Egyptians regarded 13 as lucky. Life consisted of stages - 12 on earth, the 13th being the spiritual ascension to the afterlife. Egyptians believed that death was glorious and desireable.

Now that I feel educated on the subject, I have come to my conclusion: To me, Friday the 13th is just another day, equally as capable of being lucky as unlucky. Now, time to head out for our annual work rewards luncheon, beginning somewhere around the 13th hour.

Stickers

According to http://www.discountscrapbooksupplies.com/, PSX, the makers of my favourite scrapbooking stickers, "...has gone out of business and is no longer making these stickers".

I placed an order two days ago to stock up. I just received it (these guys have very quick service).

I've always loved stickers, still do. I believe the obsession probably started when my granny always put sheets of stickers in my stocking at Christmas - the scratch n' stiff ones, the puffy googly-eyed ones, the shiny metallic ones. It was quite an extensive collection if my memory serves me correct.

Fascination with stickers continued in Sunday School where we received a shiny gold cross for each Sunday of attendance or for each memorized Bible verse.

Elementary school was the same with stars on a chart for good manners and tidying up. I looked forward to the "Excellent work!" or "Good Job!" sticker on my projects.

I always got a sticker.

So perhaps my current love of stickers is more than just the pretty colours and the decorative element to a page. They are symbolic for me - of past achievements, of a job well done, of feeling proud of my accomplisments. Seems rather ridiculous now that I think of it - I was rewarded for being "good" by getting a sticker? Not much incentive now is it? Seems rather cheap to have measured myself in such a way. And I just couldn't understand why the other kids didn't "try harder" to fill out their charts and such. How sad is that? And I think I'm still the same sometimes - placing "good" labels on others, on strangers, on people that I think don't try hard enough.

Time to stop cheating myself by my need for "stickers". From now on, they must be for scrapbooking purposes only!

The Amazing Race

I must say that I am very happy about Uchenna and Joyce winning "The Amazing Race"....they were awesome!

At the beginning, the brothers were my favourite, probably because they were so cute.

Next, I really rooted for Meredith and Gretchen. They did so well considering their age.

Of the final three, I really wasn't impressed with Rob. He and Amber are an okay couple but Rob started to drive me nuts after he drove past the brothers in the car accident. Not nice! And of course, they've already won a million dollars! And they got a wedding on TV! What more do they want?

And then Ron and Kelly - those two just didn't make a good team! He annoyed me and she annoyed me even more.

So, in the end, it was Uchenna and Joyce that I really liked. They got along very well despite stating that they were having marital problems. They were just nice - evident when they begged to pay the cab driver even when Rob and Amber were close behind. And they have great plans for the money - invitro to have a baby! Good luck to them!

Now my focus is solely on Survivor! Go Ian!

Comfort food (and the pursuit of fitting back into my wedding dress!)

I'm sitting here thinking about food. Breakfast was a Kelloggs Bran Cereal Bar (blech! but my sister and Dr Phil both tell me I need to eat more bran. Cereal bar form seems to be the only way my palate can handle it) and a kiwi fruit. Now I'm having a mid-morning hot chocolate, tsk! tsk!

Since discovering that I could no longer fit into my wedding dress I have been on a "diet", trying desperately to rid my stomach, thighs, and butt of those sneaky extra pounds. Of course, when I know I can't have something it makes me want it even more.

Here are some of my favourite foods, in no particular order. Most are chocolate. Some are bad. A few are good. Some are just plain evil!

• Godiva Chocolate - a treat I receive only once a year at Christmas.
• Chocolate Bars - my favourites are cherry blossom, eatmore, aero, glossett raisins, caramelog, smarties, I could go on.
• Fudgeos, Chewy Chips Ahoy...Mr Christie, you make good cookies!
• Ice Cream - At home, vanilla sprinkled with chocolate chips. Outside, McD's hot fudge sundae, Laura Secords Chocolate Chocolate Chunk, Baskin Robbins Jamocha Almond Fudge.
• Berries - raspberries, strawberries, blueberries are all absolutely yummy!
• B52 Milkshakes from Kelseys restaurant
• Grapefruit - prefer pink, need to sprinkle the white ones with sugar.
• French fries - poutine is great! All smothered in Ketchup of course. Oh, gotta go add ketchup to my list of favourite things.
• Tim Hortons whole wheat bagel toasted with plain light cream cheese
• Freshly Baked Bread
• Pizza & Garlic fingers from Pizza Delight
• Garlic bread at Dominoes
• Roasted marshmallows
• Plain ruffle chips with whipped plain cream cheese
• My own pasta with tomatoes recipe sprinkled with fresh parmesan - so yummy even if I must say so myself.
• Lobster and crab - when fresh from the Atlantic, there's just no comparison!
• Sunflower seeds, salted, preferably without the shell.
• McCain deep n delicious marble cake
• "Hey Dolly" homemade cookies - made with graham crumbs, condensed milk, chocolate chips, shredded coconut (all the good stuff!).
• My homemade moose-meat pies (yes, I said "MOOSE" meat, you newfies will understand).
• Coconut Cream Pie
• Cod fish - my favourite is how the Portuguese do it with the potatoes, egg, olive oil.
• Sweet Pickled Onions

Well, I think that's enough. Perhaps this blog wasn't such a great idea, now I've gone and made myself really hungry! I just have to keep reminding myself that July 23rd is fast approaching and there's no $$ to buy a bigger wedding dress.

Most of all, I need to keep reminding myself that even after the wedding, just simply being healthy should be more than reason enough to control my eating habits. I'm in for quite the challenge!

Jamie, my thoughts of you...

Jamie reads my blogs and yesterday he pointed out his disappointment about not being added to my list of favourite things. I tried to explain that it included favourite "THINGS", not favourite "PEOPLE". My explanation did not seem to reassure him so today I am writing a list specifically devoted to my husband-to-be:

Jamie, here are my favourite things about you:

• You read this weblog. This means a great deal to me because it lets me know that you are interested in ME, my life, my thoughts. And then you like to talk about my journal entries which is a great bonus.
• You are thoughtful and you CALL, all the time, every day. You ask how my day is going, if I need anything picked up on your way home from work, if I had a good nights sleep. Sometimes you call so much that it gets annoying. Of course I don't want to complain because there are millions of other women who would want to slap me for being annoyed at such a thing.
• You support me in my committment to God and church attendance. You will never know how much this means to me (and our future family)!
• You are very affectionate. You walk in the door and immediately come to me for a hug/kiss. You always want to snuggle on the couch watching TV. Again, I am annoyed at this sometimes because I am not really a very cuddly person. But I think of the alternative and I am so thankful.
• How you say "yeah I know..." when I tell you that you look sexy.
• You are intelligent about things that I haven't the slightest clue. Politics, sports, cars, and electronics do not interest me in the least but it's so nice to know that you can explain it all when I ask. It's a fine balance.
• Physically speaking, you have features that I hope will be passed along to our children....the prettiest blue eyes, blonde hair, nicely tanned skin.
• You are strong and I feel safe in your arms. I know that you will never let anything hurt me as long as you have a way to prevent it.
• You love your mother. This was evident to me as soon as we met because you spoke so often and so highly of her. This was so important to me and immediately gave me a sense of how greatly devoted and committed you are. Even though you were spoiled rotten by her (and I have accepted that my lasagna will never compare), I am forever grateful to her for teaching you love and respect for the women in your life.
• You have so many wonderful stories to share about your father, your siblings, your grandparents. I breathe a sign of relief that you come from such a strong family structure, a strong basis for our own family.
• You get SO excited about birthdays and Christmas, anything that involves getting presents. You cannot contain yourself even if you are just getting a chocolate bunny at Easter. Of course, along with this comes your extreme "nosiness". You do everything in your power to coax and convince me of your surprises and force me to hide your gifts in spots that even I then have a hard time finding.
• Your hardy/goofy laugh. You don't really laugh out loud a lot but when you do, I just love to hear the sound.
• It's funny when you announce that you are the "king of the castle", the "champion of the world", and flex your muscles and say, "Oh Yeah Baby!" and then expect me to agree and not roll my eyes. Hee, hee! But yet you are afraid of bugs, are a nervous wreck at a slight change in plans, and almost cry at the thought of a roller coaster...so cute!
• I love our Thursday night tradition - Survivor and milkshake for two!
• You try your best to help around the apartment (even when I complain that you're not doing it MY way). You're especially doing an awesome job at learning how to cook, Sunday dinners being your speciality...yummy!

Babe, even though I'm not very expressive to you in person, I hope this helps you realize how wonderful you are to me. As our years together go by, I'm sure you'll continue to amaze me. I just pray that God will help me to continually see what a great man you truly are!

List of Favourites

To balance my "List of Annoyance" I have decided to compose a list of some of my favourite things:

1. The sound of my nieces laughter
2. Almost anything to do with the ocean: the sound of the waves, salt spray, seashells, whales, and wonderfully tasty fresh seafood.
3. Chocolate...and lots of it!
4. Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head
5. Vintage "stuff" - furniture, clothes, photos, jewelry, etc.
6. Postage stamps (miniature works of art)
7. Childrens Books. Among my favourites: Charlotte's Web, Cat Among the Cabbages, The Magpie Song, You are Special
8. Medical Books
9. Shoes & Purses
10. 1 cent sour candy
11. Old Gospel Hymns
12. Great lyrics/poetry
13. Mom's freshly baked bread
14. The name Sarah
15. Strawberries, Raspberries, Blueberries
16. KETCHUP....How could I ever forget the world's greatest condiment?!

...just to name a few...will keep adding as life inspires me.

Awesome cartoon 

List of Annoyance

I love this blog

I am copying this idea and create my own list of annoyances:

1. Staples - why must people put 16 staples to hold together 2 pieces of paper.
2. Loud Nose Blowers - my grandfather used to sound like a foghorn, especially in the quiet serenity of a church service. No shame!
3. New and Improved - if you see this on a product in the store, it is a guarantee of disappointment. Why change a perfectly good thing?
4. Miserable people - my sister dropped me off at the hair salon yesterday and pulled in front of a driveway for 2 seconds to let me out of the car. Immediately an old lady was at the door yelling, "You're not going to park there are you? You're blocking my driveway!" Are you just standing there WAITING for this moment to happen?
5. Hair dressers with bad haircuts - just makes me wonder why...?
6. Pickup trucks with the huge newfie flag on the back with "LaScie" (the name of the town) in bold print. I am proud of being a newfie too. But seriously, something a little less obvious would suffice.
7. 11 year old girls wearing heels. Or for that matter, anyone wearing heels that don't know how to walk in them.
8. Avon scents - only the 99 cent cherry lipbalm and the peach bubblebath smell good. Almost everything else reaks.
9. Saggy ass jeans - having the crotch of your jeans down to your knees is simply not attractive at all. Bend over and there we have it - plumbers butt!....'nuff said.
10. Cat fur - all of my black clothing turns white within seconds of being near my long-haired kitty.
11. People who don't wave to say thank you when you let them out in traffic.
12. White sports socks in dress shoes....why do people do this? Guys with long pants I can sorta get past. Women in skirts I'll never understand nor accept.

There are so many more, I'm certain I could go on forever....I'll continue making additions as life brings little annoyances my way.

Now I have to make a list of my favourite things to balance the yang with the yin.

The Beautiful People

I got my hair cut. It's nice, I like it, took 2 full hours. I had a different stylist this time, George, a short Portuguese guy with perfectly trimmed beard and overplucked eyebrows. He was very good, didn't talk my ear off as I find stylists normally do.

Yes, at this salon, they are stylists, not just hairdressers (God forbid!). "Ego" (that's the salon name) is fully staffed by the beautiful people, mostly men, any of who could easily tip the scales in either direction between homo- and hetero-sexual. Russell, my normal stylist (and co-owner) once made a point to tell me that all of his stylists were straight. And, he says, men are better stylists than women. His theory: A woman will always hold back when it comes to making another woman look her absolute best. A man will always want his woman (client, in this case) to be as beautiful as possible. I agree with him. Makeover stylists on Oprah are always male therefore his theory must certainly be true!

So, as I'm sitting there in front of the mirror, I am bored at looking at myself. The salon has mirrors everywhere and I am able to see almost every angle from reflection alone, no head-turning required. I have decided that all of the metrosexual, manicured, fakin-baked men in the city must all be in this one room. I am out of place completely. These men are prettier than me!

And then the girls start coming down from the spa upstairs. They all have incredible haircuts. The haircuts are super funky and I love them - pink and red and platinum blond, spiky mohawks and brushcuts. A girl HAS to be beautiful to be able to pull off hair like THAT! As they shamelessly flirt, I can't help but wonder if the guys in the salon and the girls in the spa trade "services".

A client walks in the door. He is wearing a wool hat, pajama pants, socks in flip-flops! Even so, he is another of the beautiful people! He is tall and olive-skinned. Exotic, I decide, with red pouty lips and dark eyes, chiseled features. Black curls peek from under his hat. He sits and waits, very serious, and I can't stop myself from looking at him. And then he smiles at one of the girls and he is more beautiful. But then....his friend comes in and sits beside him. The friend is loud and impatient, tells "exotic boy" he's crazy to wait for a haircut. Exotic boy asks receptionist girl how long it will be....she says "George is almost done.". He goes back to his chair and slouches, takes on an attitude. I quickly snap back to reality! Sadly, beauty is only skin-deep.

My reflection is improving by the minute so I resume looking at myself. George snips and primps, flat-irons and fusses. I am finally done...woohoo! Feels so good, my hair is light and silky soft.

I call Jamie to pick me up. When I get in the truck he greets me with, "Hey Sexy. You look so pretty with your new haircut. Do you like it?" I smile at him and nod "yes". He makes me feel great...to him, I am one of the beautiful people. That's all that matters.

The Hand that Rocks the Cradle Burns the Pizza

Mothers Day is approaching...this year is slightly different.

As always I think of my own wonderful mother, a truly marvelous woman who devoted her young life to being a stay-at-home-mom. I am reminded of one of my favourite quotes:

They say that man is mighty, He governs land and sea, He wields a mighty scepter
O'er lesser powers that be; But a mightier power and stronger Man from his
throne has hurled, For the hand that rocks the cradle Is the hand that rules the
world

I love this quote, it is so true! Mothers are our foundation. They keep us safe for our first 9 months of creation, they give us birth, feed us, nurture us, kiss our wounds, and love us even when we make their hearts ache.

This year, with marriage pending, I have been thinking a great deal of becoming a mother myself. I have "baby fever" days when nothing could seem better. And then the days when the idea of motherhood scares me to death. I wonder how I will ever keep up?....I hate being awakened from sleep, I lose patience so easily sometimes, I love my freedom to come and go as I please....this will all change so drastically that I cannot even imagine! And then there's the emotional part of motherhood which I cannot even fathom understanding.

The decision to have a child, it's momentous. It is to decide forever to let
your heart walk around outside of your body.

I have deeply considered many aspects of motherhood since becoming an auntie. I love my nieces dearly and try and spend as much time with them as possible. I fear the day when I am no longer the cool aunt...Erykah will no longer call me to "come over" just because...., Isabella will no longer be the cute little toddler who hugs my shoulder so tightly.

It was so much easier to babysit when there was just one of them....not EASY, but easIER. I took care of them yesterday for a few hours after work. Jamie was a huge help and prepared most of our supper while I watched the girls. Of course, he eventually had to take a shower, leaving me alone to watch the girls AND the homemade pizza in the oven. Apparantly I am unable to do both because I totally forgot about the pizza....and it cooked for much too long! "It's not burnt, at least...", I said (more like a question requiring gentle reassurance) to Jamie. He just said that it was okay, that he knew I was busy. Deep down if I were him I would have been thinking "I leave you alone for 10 minutes!..."

Ultimately I've come to a conclusion. I guess it doesn't really matter if the pizza is burnt as long as everyone is healthy and safe and can lovingly sit down and eat it together!

Naked without my ring

I've never really been much of a jewellry person. I should rephrase, I've never been one to WEAR much jewellry, though I do love it.

When I was 9 or 10 I wanted to pierce my ears like all the other girls and was sternly told by my father, "If God wanted holes in your ears then he would have put them there!". I never bothered again except for one piercing in my upper ear when I was 18, I'm sure my dad was thrilled. It was during my rebellion stage..."Rebel"...HA!, as if I could ever be a rebel.

Anyways, back to my original point about jewellry. I have my favourite vintage pieces, mostly cameos (LOVE cameos), some grandma-type brooches, clunky Mrs. Roper costume stuff. But I barely ever wear any of it. Today, I wear only a silver necklace and the same silver hoop that's been embedded in that one pierced ear for 6 years now. But I'm missing one very important piece, realized it on the drive to work this morning, my engagement ring!! How could I forget that? My hands swell terribly at night so I take it off and place it next to my bed, in the same spot every evening, and put it on first thing when I wake up. But it seems that my morning routine was thrown - I've decided to place blame on my extremely vocal cat loudly waking me to say that I had forgotten to fill his bowl the night before. Psychologically, of course, I battled with myself and pondered if there was a subconscious reason why I had chosen not to wear the ring this morning. I was kinda annoyed at Jamie last night for not helping with his laundry....? But I had already balanced that away by reminding myself that he DID help with preparing supper. Nah, that's not it....I just simply forgot....and now I feel naked, constantly feeling my finger, momentarily startled to find it not there, and having to remind myself, "Don't panic, it's not lost, it's at home safe and sound"....all alone next to my bed, feeling left out in not fulfulling it's purpose in life (Yes, I quite often give voice and emotion to inanimate objects). Tonight, I will make an extra mental note, post a "sticky" on my bathroom mirror, and make certain that tomorrow, I will not come to work naked!

Calendar Honeymoon

When I came to work this morning, I turned the page on my calendar to MAY (Wow, how time flies!) and saw this beautiful picture. I was curious and read the description "French River, Prince Edward Island, John Sylvester Photography"....what a coincedence! "Cool", I said, and told some co-workers about the picture. "This is the little town where I'll be spending my wedding night!" Jamie and I are getting married on the beach at Cousin's Shore, Park Corner, PEI. I found the cutest B&B for our wedding night....the "California Room" complete with king size bed and jacuzzi, and it's only about 5 minutes away from where our wedding will take place. And then we are going to continue our honeymoon at a cottage in Cavendish. I'm just thrilled to be getting married on this little island where Jamie and I both vacationed as children. The countdown is on (82 days until July 23rd) and I'm so excited!

No Stitches Required

Jamie has just begun his softball season. My niece, Erykah, just loves going to the ballpark with us. No longer confined to an apartment, Erykah has so much freedom at the ball park to run and jump and play with little friends.

Today was no different in the "jumping" department. In fact, Erykah's jumping created quite a serious commotion. Jumping with head down over a puddle of spilled chocolate milk on the pavement caused poor little Erykah to hit her forehead into the edge on an open car door. OUCH! Time stood still in that moment....I was standing there, transfixed, watching it happen but yet too slow to react. Life is cruel to active 4 year olds who are too invigorated by fresh air to notice such dangerous obstacles. And then the loud tears, the broken skin, blood dripping...and in an instant she was in my arms and hurried to the truck followed quickly by Vanessa (the owner of the "BAD CAR!" and a mom) with first aid kit and gauze in hand. I didn't even want to look at her forehead, thought it was just a scratch but then I had to do it....I pulled back the gauze and saw an inch long gash...not sure if the gasp was mine alone or the spectators whispering "stitches for sure". And then (another moment I don't wish to repeat), the call to Erykah's mom, Tracey...."Hello....don't panic....but Erykah is hurt, she cut her head open....should we meet you at the hospital?" We opted for the walk-in clinic which seemed a faster option that our ever-crowded Brampton emergency room. The clinic was full but pretty quick to see the injured child with the bleeding forehead who kept saying she wanted to "go to sleep". The doctor was very nice....phew!! the skin had not broken all the way through and "no stitches required". It was a very clean cut, he said, and just put on a piece of tape to keep the gash closed. Perhaps later, the headache will come. The doctor said she's okay to rest, hopefully she'll sleep through the throbbing pain. She's had enough for one day.

Erykah was a very strong girl today...didn't even cry after we started en route to the clinic. Believe it or not, after all of this, she didn't want to go home. She wanted to go back to the ballpark....but....

Alas! to add insult to injury, no more ball games this weekend....Jamie's team lost!