Merry Fucking Christmas!!!!

Well I truly hope that all of you took my advice in regards to the holiday season; eating, drinking, and saying inappropriate things all to excess that will no doubt take until NEXT Christmas for your family members to excuse your foul and inappropriate behavior. I am a little upset that I was not able to provide you all with greater words of wisdom but there is always next year. I also give advice for weddings, christenings, birthdays, Bat-Mitzvah's, break-up's, and walk-of-shame's.

The Christmas shit-show started early, 4 am to be exact. I thought it would be a GREAT idea to leave Penticton early in order to catch connecting ferries to the island and Hornby. After a constipating and anxiety filled drive along highway 3, mother nature decided to crap all over what was to be my perfectly planned trip. After five and a half hours in a ferry line up, Fraser and I finally made the ferry. The following day we rolled onto Hornby and proceeded to slip into the the comfortable state that I like to call, "Hornby Island Time." Now I know this is not a well known phrase, but it bloody well should be. I mean people on this island have names like "Honeybee" and "Storm," not to mention the goddamn reverend rides a horse - BARE BACK - and has a firm handshake with the bottle - if you know what I mean. On Hornby you can buy your groceries, smoke a joint, and purchase alcohol all within the same location - same store for that matter. You can also drive without insurance (in winter months) and use your mother's inherited land to grow copious amounts of dope. There are also the "Eco Hippies" as I like to call them, you know, the people who drive hybrid vehicles and wear organic hemp clothing, but you know full well they go home to their million dollar mansions and drink tea (organically grown of course) from a gold plated cup whilst sitting on their 100% buffalo skin sofa -christ. My mother on the other hand does not have a phone, uses a wood stove for heat, doesn't own a t.v., hasn't had a regular paycheck since 1980, does not drive a vehicle (this is actually a godsend as her previous vehicles were roadside hazards), and  does not own a washer or dryer- which most likely adds to her "Hornby Island Artist Look" - and wardrobe. But you know what? Miraculously ( and I say this with true sarcasm) she is HAPPY. I think, especially during the Christmas season, we either are searching for THAT happiness or have somehow lost it in all the festive chaos. Not to mention, throughout the year we are always grasping at finding that balance between having an absolute mental breakdown and finding 2 minutes in the day to appreciate what we really have. Now, I'm just as guilty as everyone else in this, it's not like I sit practicing yoga and meditating my way through life - but with my current unemployed self, this may be an option? I guess what I'm saying is, seek out something, someone, or some feeling that makes you reflect upon the life you have been given, and continue to live. Find a time to appreciate what you have, be that your health, your family, or the people you choose to surround yourself with. Our lives are filled with accumulating pressure and influence, take a step back, breathe in deep, and have a look around. Christ, the world can't even leave gay penguins alone (see link below):
Gay Penguins 

When the holiday is all said and done, I am happy to report that my Christmas back at home was everything that I imagined it would be - and more. Some of the highlights you ask??

1. My mother-in-law's new rendition of the song, "Deck the halls with BALLS of holly"
2. Another close family friend serenading a Christmas party with, "I saw mommy fucking Santa Clause"
3. Acquiring a deep love and passion for Disaronno and cranberry - trust me, it is amazing
4.Singing drunken karaoke at the Queen's 4 hours before heading home
5. Receiving a CAT blanket for a present
6. Having to explain to all of my family members, on multiple occasions, that I am no longer employed
7. Realizing that I couldn't have asked to be in the company of some of the most amazing people I have ever met and had the opportunity to get to know

Merry Christmas All!!!!! Stay tuned for my New Years post, bound to be full of cynical analysis of the human race...oh! and also my New Years Resolutions (there are many)

Ho Ho Ho, Your Love Handles Show

Oh boy! It's that time again for another useless tid bit of holiday advice! This post I would like to title;


 "Ho Ho Ho, Your Love Handles Show"

Now for those of you who know me, I take my health seriously, you could even say I'm the shining mecca of health.....right..... However, though my past was littered with copious amounts of smoking and drinking with minor installments of exercise;  I can happily say that I've given up the "fags" (except on nights out when I don't even know my own name) and have happily welcomed exercise and fitness into my life. I think I am actually able to do a solid 5 push ups and have something the size of a small squirrel protruding from my upper arms. I am refraining from talking about the lower half of my body which continues to be the bain of my existence since I donned the nickname "porkchop" at the age of 10 - Thanks mom, I'm sure psychologically that did me a world of good.

 Now in previous years, I used to dread the holiday season; the copious amounts of food, alcohol, and treats - before I knew it I was tits deep in my step-moms festive baking even before Aunt Ethel could bust out the first verse of, "Oh come holy faithful." I remember some years being physically sore from eating too much, and let me tell you ladies and gentleman, there is nothing sexy about gluttony - nothing sexy at all. I really don't know where the excessive need to cook for an entire army was invented, but it can go straight back to the hell it came from. Don't get me wrong, nothing quite beats the smell of holiday food cooking and the comfort in knowing you're surrounded by friends, family, and delicious treats, but one glass or two glasses of eggnog in and you've pretty much bought your train ticket straight to Thunder Thigh City. Christ, you're the goddamn conductor. Not to mention, your jeggings have now restricted your ability to reproduce.

Before writing this post I thought about all the articles out there on how to "stay slim" over the holidays, and "low fat" options for Christmas. If you ask me, they're all a crock of bullshit, YOU chose to put that mint melty in your mouth, and all of it's sixteen cousins too. I guess the point of this post is to just embrace the holidays; sure, maybe a few pounds gained here or there, but come January, your Visa bill will take care of that; you'll be too stressed out to eat and you can't afford food either! No but seriously, I think people get too wrapped up in "health" over the holidays and staying slim; if gaining 5 pounds is your biggest goddamn concern, then you shouldn't be invited to anything over the holidays - you and your slimfast bar can stay home and watch Bridgette Jones' Diary on Netflix.

Just think, you'll be the first one on Facebook to boast about how much weight you have GAINED over the holidays.

With that being said, here are a couple helpful pointers on successfully accepting happiness, love handles or not, over the holidays:

1. Like my mother-in-law has taught me, you can always replace meals with alcohol. For instance, a "Caesar" is pretty much a well balanced meal in itself - throw in a piece of cheese and meat on the side and you've got yourself ....half cut before lunch.

2. Allow yourself to be a gluttonous mess; really it's the one time of year that you can morally indulge without having it "count"

3. As my husband, and also the author of the novel titled; "How to not give a shit - one man's experience in life," says; "stop caring so much about pointless shit that doesn't matter."

And that my friends tops off this week's helpful hints to the holidays!

We've Got The Dreamer's Disease

I never thought that the start to my holidays would involve getting fired from my job; surprisingly enough I actually feel like I have won a mini lottery! Santa, how did you know?? Unfortunately I wish I could say I was actually "FIRED" but I'll just have to settle for a mutual agreement to terminate employment. At least I'm still eligible for E.I., because nothing looks better than being unemployed at the age of 26 and milking the system. Oh did I mention I am also a student and still take hand-outs from my parents? I'm surprised I'm not still breast feeding for christ sakes.

Ok enough with the "pity me" statements. As mentioned before, I am quite relieved to be no longer working for THAT company. To make a long story short, and due to the fact that pretty much anyone can read this thanks to the internet, I will remain diplomatic and leave it at this; I felt the moral and ethical obligation to make note of the fact of unequal pay scales at my work; my voiced opinions led to the deterioration of my employment; accompanied by the fact that my manager was a complete effing dragon and didn`t even have the decency to leave her cave to wave off my departure. Don`t worry, I made sure to wish them all a VERY merry Christmas on my way out; hopefully Santa makes an extra effort to remove the lump of coal from her nether regions this year.

So what will I do now you ask?? Well, thanks to my Scottish habits, I have managed to put away enough to sit comfortably for awhile. While most people might find it frightening to be unemployed, I'm more concerned about being left to my own devices thanks to my now "open" schedule. Believe it or not, I actually like working.....ok that's a lie, I like having structure in my daily routine as a well as a paycheck, and since prostitution would not be tolerated in my family, I have to find alternative avenues. Anyway, I thought I would get to the point of this post, and as promised, here is the first installment of successfully surviving the holidays. This I have chosen to title; Holiday Hosting

Now some of us enjoy entertaining more than others, so if you are someone who absolutely despises hosting a get together at your place, then get up right now and go pour yourself another drink. Now, for those of you that find some sort of sick enjoyment in providing food, beverages, and endless comedic entertainment for people you don't really like, such as family, then I suggest you tune in to my step-by-step (ooooh baby) guide to making yourself look and feel better than your invited guests.

 Step 1: Although it may seem like a good idea to cook some elaborate meal for your company; don't do it. Not only will you waste money on organic, free range, imported foods, but the chances of your guests actually appreciating it in the end is minimal. Let's be honest, if it's anything like my previous attempts at entertaining, they'll probably throw it up in your ornamental tree on their way to their vehicle at 2 am. Also, at around 3 glasses of booze in, you'll seriously regret having to spend useless time in the kitchen stirring, whisking, and slicing, while your guests are boozing it up in your living room. On that note, don't go and buy pre-made bullshit; that shit blatantly say's to your guests, "I don't fucking like you and you're not even worth this Oriental variety pack I picked up at M and M meats."

Step 2: Plan ahead; if you know that your extensions take 40 minutes to blow dry and you'll have to apply at least two layers of make-up to your face (thanks to last night's game of "zit picker") then start getting ready early. DO NOT get ready right before your guests arrive; no doubt you've been pre-drinking (step 4) beforehand and trust me when I say, making any decision with the inclusion of alcohol is a sure way to guarantee you'll be looking like a festive street walker upon greeting your guests.

Step 3: Don't stress out about how clean your house is, if they're your friends, they already know how much of a dirty slob you are. If you are trying to impress some future potential friends, then I suggest picking your shit up off the floor, running the vacuum over the carpet, and shoving all the rest of your shit in whatever cupboard you can guarantee your guests won't look in. If all else fails, dim the lights; you won't be able to see the months worth of dust accumulating on your television stand OR the crumbs from last week when you thought it would be a good idea to eat half a bag of Humpty Party mix and three quarters of your advent calendar.

Step 4: My last and final suggestion in regards to throwing a successful dinner party; DRINK. Honestly, before you start any of the above mentioned steps, pour yourself a healthy glass of alcohol and take a few minutes to enjoy the fact that you won't give a shit when it's all said and done. Hair looks like shit?? Don't care. My guests are boring as hell?? Not a problem. My husband just spilled half a plate of Pad Thai on my newly washed carpet? Oh well. My nylons have turned into a frontal thong? you get the point....

Well I hope this has given you some truly helpful advice in regards to your holiday celebrations. Stay tuned for the next Festively Themed Installment!

Deck My Halls

Well there is something about the Christmas season that turns me into those really happy people you see in holiday magazines; decorating their tree with their 6 children dancing around, a handsome husband in a striped sweater vest, and a yellow lab sleeping by the fire......woah, maybe not quite like that but you get the point. I don't know why I love the holidays soo much, I honestly think it was my mother's goal in life to distort my happy ideals of what Christmas should be by tainting them with "alternative" ways of ringing in the season, see examples below:

1. One year for Halloween my grade.3 class put on a scary play; my mother of course volunteered to make a 5 foot tall "haunted tree." Guess what our presents were place under that year?

2. Another year she came in contact with (to this day I'm still not sure how) a lower torso of a male mannequin; upon returning home from school my sister and I walked into the living room to find "him" stuffed with Christmas lights.

3. After years of not having a Christmas tree, my mom finally convinced my sister and I that we were getting a REAL one; lights included. From a SIX INCH box she pulls out a fake plastic tree with barely visible lights on it; I remember being sooo pissed off watching her plug it into the wall... she of course was no doubt happier than a pig in shit that she fooled us for another year.

Don't get me wrong, looking back now I really don't understand what the importance of a "normal" tree was, but at the age of 7 try explaining that Christmas morning present opening will be spent under the plastic balls of a male torso.

Another confusing Christmas event was the fact that, during the time I believed STRONGLY in Santa Clause, my Scottish Nana played Mrs.Clause at the mall - you know the place where you drag your kids to every year for their picture with Santa and they have some really cheesy set up and all you get is a goddamn candy cane that usually breaks before you even get home and to make matters worse the picture usually turns out ugly and Santa isn't even looking at the camera? Woah back on track. Anyway, I must have been a really fucking gullible child, or my parents did a fantastic job at altering my understanding of reality because for one; how could my Nana also be Mrs.Clause, and secondly, why did it never occur to me that in all the Christmas stories I read as a child, never, in ANY of them, did Mrs.Clause have a goddamn Scottish accent.


You know, come to think of it, I'm surprised I don't spend the holiday season drunk at the bar singing karaoke alone. But why do that when I can do those things in the comfort of my in-laws. And THAT ladies and gentleman is what the Christmas season is all about; creating embarrassing and morally questionable memories with your family that will be talked about for years to come. Like that time I spilled an alcoholic beverage on my mother-in-law's carpet.

So in the spirit of the season, I have decided to dedicate a few of my posts to my own helpful tips for ringing in the holidays; sarcastic versions of course. Stay tuned for the first installment of "Oh Crap it's Christmas - a useless guide to achieving holiday success" Chapter one: Holiday Entertaining

Red Panda's Are Jerks

You know when people with accents sing.... you can't really hear it?? Ya well I've found the exception. Put on any goddamn Proclaimer's song and it'll prove you wrong. - This realization really has no particular meaning.

It has been awhile since I've posted and I really wish I had some sort of exciting excuse that would explain my absence; but alas, I do not. It's funny really, how in younger years, it felt like time was barely moving, I honestly believed I would be wearing a training bra into my thirties and be sporting my fashionable cat sweatshirt well into the next century. Now, I can barely grasp time, my tits fall out of every bra I own and I am still mourning over my cotton cat attire. Part of this problem could be fixed if I actually went and saw those creepy boob ladies at the Bay for a "proper fitting;" but if I wanted to be felt up by someone twice my age I'd ask my mother. I spose' there will come a time when none of this really matters and my concerns will be more focused on my irregular bowels and my random health ailments. "Oh Sharon I'm cancelling bridge this week, my Sciatica is acting up again." Christ.

In other news, I will be an Aunt again for the second time this year!! As a result,  I tried to benefit from this exciting event by using it to my own advantage in MY relationship. I honestly don't think I ask for much, and other than the occasional mental terrorizing, I would say I'm a pretty awesome person to marry. So anyway, after telling Fraser that he was going to be an uncle again, I thought it would be an opportune time to try and get something out of it - most of this was sparked by this Youtube video I saw last week :

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tOFq5q8Lo18

At some point I have rationalized this all in my head that instead of asking Fraser for a child, I will ask for something slightly "less needy;" a RED EFFING PANDA. It's kind of like asking for something Name Brand but settling for the B grade version of it. Now I understand that keeping animals such as this in an apartment is frowned upon and WRONG. However, wouldn't this be a sweet pet?? Like that time I went to the Edmonton zoo and thought a Fenneck fox would be an awesome upgrade to owning a dog. Right.......Regardless, the panda idea was immediately laughed at and turned down. We will see who's laughing when you return home to find your suit clothes have been turned into a panda bathroom.

Other than trying to build my apartment zoo, it's my birthday next week! No really, I'm not that excited and I have also added "Tuesday" to the list of "Days I Hate." I'm not sure where this birthday issue stemmed from but it all seemed to go downhill after the year "goodie bags" were no longer cool. It's really unfortunate that I am a productive member of society because I could easily spend the day huddled in my closet in a nest of shoes listening to Whitney Houston and blubbering into a torn towel. Don't worry, I would still come out for snacks; mostly in the liquid/alcohol version....I might even shower.

Until next time.

Nails, Nails, Nails

Oh Halloween..... this is the FIRST year that I have been toying with the idea of staying home and drinking in a less "let me grind my man bits on your ass parts" bar kind of way. Maybe it's the whole marriage thing, or maybe its the fact that I no longer have the patience it once took to put up with that type of shit. Seriously. I make better drinks than the bar does, I play music I like, I don't have to pay extremely high prices, AND I can dance NAKED in my living room FOR FREE without fear of being arrested. Horrible flashbacks are repeating in my mind of when I thought it would be a good idea to go to THE MULE (seedy night club in Penticton) to see Sak Noel. Ok the truth is I got free tickets and figured it would be a good excuse to drink my face off; so I went.  I didn't even know his one hit; "what the fuck," but that didn't really seem to matter because it only had three words in it anyway and I was too mesmerized by his coked-out dancers to really give two shits. Thank Christ the tickets were free. The precious hours of my life however? I will never get back. Where the balls is this post going??

My point, I think, is that I find as I am getting "older" I have discovered myself to be much better company than the other 99% of the population. Don't get me wrong, at most times I can't stand myself and I truly do pity the poor bastard that married me - he is long suffering. BUT! Even if I was single and looking; the last goddamn place I would go would be the bar; christ, I would have better odds at the Greyhound station in Merrit than take my chances elsewhere. Maybe it's the way I party, because no matter the shit hole or "happenin'" city I find myself in, I always have some messed up experience; like that time at Pride in Vancouver where I got lost, bought a transvestite named Tamara a cheese dog from 7-11, and took (what should have been a 5 min cab ride)  for 45 minutes because for the life of me I could not remember where my hostel was. To make matters worse I had to "bunk up" with a hostel mate that I didn't know and who had more hair on her legs than a male gorilla. I have never wanted a shower so bad in my life. On the plus side I managed to acquire someone else's t-shirt and their gucci sunglasses. HMMMM.

Ok, one more mention of babies here because I feel it is necessary to defend what may be interpreted as "human hate." So not two days after my mention of "baby Facebook," I go in to get my nails done at "Nails, Nails, Nails," which is usually a sanctuary of sorts for me as "Bella" speaks little English but makes nice conversation with me regardless. So anyway, within 5 minutes of sitting down she tells me that she is pregnant; naturally, I am excited for her and begin to ask her questions about "how far along she is," and "what names does she like." Within seconds the conversation turns to "how to get pregnant," which is not something I am looking for information on or "coaching" for that matter. My apprehension didn't seem to phase her and for the next 45 minutes, through broken english and hand gestures, I was able to make out; "cum" "lay on your back for 4 hours afterwards," "do it at 4am so you can go back to sleep," AND, "keep your legs in the air." WHAT THE FRICKEN FRACK!!! Even my nail lady is in on this. May I point out, that if conceiving a baby requires me to stay on my back for 4 hours and have sex in the early am; you can count this bitch out.

I am seriously convinced that Jesus is against me; the following evening I was "holding it" until I got home when an unexpected urge to sneeze appeared and I ended up pissing my skirt in the lobby of my apartment building. I thought this shit only happened to women who have HAD babies?? As my mother said, " you better start doing some "exercises" if that's the state you're in."

"Behold, children are a heritage from the Lord, the fruit of the womb a reward"

You know those times where it probably isn't a good idea to go out in public or communicate with anyone of the human species due to your horribly un-excused attitude?? Well it's one of those times for me; I almost choked a bitch in the save-on foods check out; except it wasn't a bitch, it was a 9 year old boy annoying the living shit out of me and his oblivious father that has no doubt instilled those "talents" into his child. It's always the people who should have been deemed "unfit" to be parents that seem to procreate like rabbits and produce little mini versions of themselves. Wholy Christ. Whew. Maybe it's the fact that Facebook appears to have become "Baby" central as of late; goddamn, I fully expect that the next add to appear on my timeline wall will go something like this;

 "Get your 1939 Nun Cornette and Habit at 50% off if you buy now. Your ovaries may have given up on you, but Jesus hasn't!"

Don't get me wrong, I have nothing against babies, people having babies, and the fact that I don't have one (Thank Jesus - pun intended); but goddamn, I already have put enough pressure on myself to PICK A CAREER (and stick with it) and to finally finish school that the last thing I need is a constant reminder of the many "milestones in life" that I have yet to even ponder. Maybe I should have thought about this before I "accepted" successful people as my friends on Facebook. I need more sub-par friends that I can compare my life to and  feel good about myself selfishly while I sleep at night. I guess that's why I like watching The Biggest Loser while eating horrible shit food. But lets be honest, and I may just be tooting my own horn here, but making a baby or getting successfully fat don't take much effort do they?? (in most cases)??? For sweet shit sakes, you could do them both at the same time!!! Getting a degree however takes years of procrastination, debt, dignity sacrifice, and the conclusion that any chance of "normalcy" can pretty much be thrown at the proverbial shit fan. Maybe I'm going to become one of those socially-stigmatized women that "chooses her career over raising a family?".......................Probably not as I'm pretty sure that I'm destined to have some sort of fetal surprise (mistake) in my future. Well, then again, there's really no need to worry as I think there has been enough "Jesus slander" and anti-human race comments to ensure me a speedy one way ticket straight to hell.

Until next time.

The past two weeks have felt like I've been sliding down a slippery shit-stormed slope; the end doesn't look too promising either. I returned back to Penticton from my relaxing weekend of Thanksgiving gluttony to find the first "nugget" of shit in the form of my vehicle. My (actually its Fraser's)1994 Mazda Protege had decided to officially DIE upon my arrival home; Jesus was obviously of Fraser's side as the car was working fine while I was away. So Fraser departs the next morning for a week of hockey crap, and I am left with not only  the pleasure of a clean house (not) but my transportation options were now either the BUS or taxi. I may be cheap, but clearly not cheap enough to succumb to public transportation; instead I paid out the asshole in cab fare. OH! My favourite "highlight" of the week was waking up on my first day back to work and realizing that the toilet paper fairy had used the last roll and forgot to magically purchase more. That bitch better shape up or ship out.

On a lighter note I had sooo much fun drinking wine and vodka on my home vacation that it has given me lasting hope that Christmas is only a few short months away. I'm sure by that time I will have digested the baby-sized amount of food I ate and will most likely have sobered up by then. Also, I have had to go with a rental car for the past week and since Budget was out of economy cars, I am now driving a black Impala; I am secretly living out my dreams of being a female pimp/drug lord. It's amazing what driving a new car can do for the ego; each morning I secretly hope the Mazda has been stolen and driven to Mexico. The car depreciates my sense of self worth. Once again, the amount of complaining in this post makes me feel like slapping myself square in the face; if car troubles and over-eating are my only two problems, I deserve to be shit kicked.

One of my many "realizations" this week came quickly after visiting the dentist today. Now, usually I choose not to think about my student loan debt or the insane amount of money I have wasted on nicotine gum; but today was one of those days where I had to face the facts. I figured that unless I rob a bank or become a prostitute, I will be paying "maximum fees" until I can secure some sort of job that has DECENT benefits. You know, it's times like these that I find a soft place in my bitter heart for criminals, those that misuse the "system", and others that "give it to the man." The fear of WHAT would happen to me in prison is the only thing preventing me from becoming one of the above mentioned people. Basically, my two choices are to become homeless and invest all my money into my teeth, or, become one of those gap-toothed hobbits with dry socket and tooth decay; none of these options are enticing to say the least. Maybe I should just throw in the towel and get dentures.

The past few days have made me extremely bitter towards anything that costs money; hence why I am spending my Friday night at home eating a jar of pickled beets for dinner. I did however make it to the gym today; it is amazing how great I feel afterwards, it's the "getting there" part that is most difficult. Regardless, I will admit that my "outlook on society" is probably tampered by the fact that I stayed up until 2am lastnight watching the Hunger Games and then proceeded to contemplate how I would survive if I were "chosen." Christ. I also watched, "Seeking a friend for the end of the world;" which resulted in me trying to decided what I would do if the world was going to end. I basically decided that I would spend some of my time eating myself sick and wearing my "no sex pants" - pajama pants.

The Mazda had returned home; about as exciting as finding 2 week old dirty underwear.

I would first like to start out by stating that I am completely uncomfortable with public displays of affection; mine and others. I really don't know where this stems from...maybe being completely grossed out as a child watching my dad and his wife at the time kiss...I don't know but the 4.5 hour drive to Vancouver warranted ample time to ponder my many "thoughts." I caught a ride with a distant family member (in-law) which I am very thankful for, though riding in a truck definitely did not allow the appropriate amount of room for myself, him, and his new girlfriend. Maybe I have turned the corner and become a bitter old married hag or maybe it was the fart I held in all the way from Penticton clouding my perception, but if the space in that truck was any smaller in proximity; I could have quite possibly been a member of an incestial road-orgy.

I am currently sitting on the ferry waiting for it to bring me back to my beautiful island; my luck, however, has landed me directly outside the women's washroom; nothing like the smell of shit and whitespot to stir up an appetite. Filled with screaming over-tired children, teenagers (I can complain about them now because I've come to terms with being classified as "old"), poorly dressed members of society, and of course BC ferries workers. I for one, no matter how much they paid me, would never take a job here, those blue pants almost beat out Tim Hortons in the, "how many feet can we add to your ass" - pants contest. I'll pass.

On a good note, I got a raise at work, so I have now moved up from being a "below poverty line" student to a"just skimming the poverty line" student. It's amazing what $1.00 can do to a person's optimism, really. Some part of me obviously cares remotely about my job because I have decided to not publicly post what I'd like to tell them about that dollar and where a nice place for it might be. Compared to last year, atleast I'm employed.

All in all, the travel is well worth it though; I'm looking forward to seeing my family and being home for Thanksgiving; which just so happens to be my favourite holiday of the year. This is also one of the few holidays that I don't cry at, unlike Christmas and my birthday. I'm also looking forward to drinking lots of wine and............no, just drinking lots of wine.

Happy Thanksgiving All!!! May your festive celebrations be as dysfunctional as mine!!!

That thong tha thong thong thong......

So I have managed to go another week relatively unscathed from my rather chaotic life at the moment. You would think that after four years of University I would come to the conclusion that working full time and going to school full time is not going to benefit my personal and/or mental health....but noooo. I know it's the start of a new semester at school when I start to cry uncontrollably at any commercial with animals or babies in it (emotional instability), my body breaks out in hives (physical reaction to stress), and my diet begins to consist of anything that can be microwaved, blended, or ready-to-serve. Needless to say; the end result is not pretty. I keep telling myself that in less than one year I can have my life back...except I'm not entirely sure what that looks like. I think I'm still 99% stuck on the fact that I will win the lottery; like that time this woman called me twice in regards to being "re-entered" to win a Lexus; I was effing convinced I was going to win and had even planned out what I would do with the money after I won it (and sold it). Flash forward 2 years and I'm still scratching Gold Rush tickets. I won $6 dollars last week; tripled my initial investment.

Don't get me wrong, there are waaaay more things that I enjoy in my life than despise. Thank-god for my friends and family..oh and my wonderful husband ( the word still seems foreign to me as I was convinced for the majority of my years before this that I would remain single and have a cat-breeding farm somewhere in the woods...however part of that dream is still possible?)

In other news. Had the in-laws up for the weekend, how fitting that it was Wine Fest! Saturday involved me finishing a paper with 1.5 hours to spare and then spending the rest of the day, afternoon, and evening drinking copious amounts of liquids with varying alcohol contents. Things that I remember, or that I was told I did that evening:

Going for lunch at Hillside and drinking half a bottle of wine - remembered
Doing a wine tasting a various wineries - (remembered)
Having over $150 of wine bought for me by my lovely family - (Seriously? Of course)
Going back to the hotel, drinking vodka on the rocks (thanks mother-in-law) and getting dressed - (slightly blurry)
Going pee at the restaurant and realizing that my thong was on backwards all morning: (Why yes I do!)
Going to the Vees Game- (Remember entering and drinking above-mentioned vodka out of a water bottle)
Peeing in the bushes outside of the rink in front of my in-laws (NO)
Eating chicken wings and food at the restaurant - (Barely, though I remember not finishing my drink)
Taking a cab ride home (Apparently) ....side note, I woke up on Sunday morning and said to Fraser;

 "I actually don't feel that badly and I remember most of everything, except the cab ride home was a little blurry"
FRASER: "Well that's because I DROVE home"

All in all it was a pretty classy night, I really have no idea what I even talked about or if I was even able to talk; the morning resulted in me hoping, as I always do after a night like that, that everyone else was equally as shitfaced as I was.


It is now Tuesday and I think I am finally over my hangover. I don't get it, the old people drank me under the table and were twice my age; not to mention they were all up before 8 am the next morning while I was still asleep in a vodka induced coma. So much for a healthy start to October. It's bad enough that I already dislike Monday's, but heading to work after a weekend of above-legal blood alcohol levels could closely resemble HELL. I came home that evening and ate my weight in Turkey casserole; lazed around on the couch in my "no sex pants" as Fraser calls them, and then just before going to bed I realized that I had somehow over-looked a paper that was due in 4 hours; nothing like last minute. For fuck sakes.

Now to recover and do it all over again next weekend; hopefully this time I'll have my big girl panties on straight.

Hello Fall

I am one pair of crotch-wrenching pantyhose away from becoming a 1960's housewife. Although some aspects of that lifestyle would not be that bad...such as; not having to work......I can't think of any others.

I have cooked, cleaned, washed laundry, and am currently sitting on my couch with no pants on and curlers in my hair. It is Saturday night and I've spent the past hour trying to convince myself that this is perfectly acceptable behaviour for a 25 year old married woman.

Fast forward to Sunday.

I find it quite amazing the amount of work I put into cooking dinner; especially after having a few drinks. Though I do not condone drinking to excess, I fully support its use in becoming a happier and more productive member of society (within reason). Personally, I use alcohol to just not give a shit; dishes? No problem. Paying bills? Absolutely! Talking to people you definitely wouldn't carry on conversations with sober? Of course! This is when alcohol can become such a great companion; on the flip side, it can leave you in tears crying in your 1994 Mazda Protege to your husband about your "issues". Not the finest of moments.

Saturday night did not turn into much, my hair ended up looking like a post-sex follicle romp and my PMS (which has worsened each year??) took the better of me. I ended up watching Lord of the Rings on teletoon and eating half a bag of crispy mini's dill flavour; carbicide.
 I woke up this morning with yesterday's makeup on and some sort of  blonde animal growing at the back of my head (my hair). Note to those wanting extensions, get a weave. Saying "my weave is tangled" is much more badass than explaining why your "clamp extensions have dried out." Just sayin.

Though I am a full time student and work full time, my "google search list" begs to contradict that statement. Throughout my life I have come to accept that I am eccentric, often OCD, a mental terrorist, and quite stubborn the majority of the time, I never thought that my life could be summed up by simply looking at my Google search history.  I thought I would share what I came across; keep in mind, these searches are only one week old:


Canada post Penticton
Side effects of dairy allergy
Unique Baby Names
What is a group of deer called?
Tegan and Sara new album
Diplomat cake recipe
Jessica Simpson's baby (I was trying to convince Fraser that this could quite possible be the ugliest child)
Trichotillomania
Deena plastic surgery
French Bulldog
Cesar millan's dogs names
Cesar millan Mr.President
Cesar millan's dogs
Cesar

FUCK.

This is Mr.President, not sure why I needed to search four times.

No better time than the present??

So I've been toying with the idea of starting a blog for awhile now....to be honest I used to have one in high school filled with teenage angst and stories of how much I couldn't stand my parents and life at the time..... if I could go back now I would definitely give myself a straight slap to the face. I guess the real reason behind this whole thing is to kind of have a way to document my life; what I have learned, what I have been forced to accept, and the crazy randomness that falls in between. Don't get me wrong, my life is by no means a hollywood drama or action movie; you'd probably get more excitement in the dog food aisle at Pet Smart most nights of the week. For example; it is Saturday night and my evening plans have resulted in eating half a jar of pickled beets (tasty), watching a re-run of Here Comes Honey Boo Boo, and procrastinating doing my homework; you better red-neckognize.

After re-reading that paragraph I have concluded that the true reasons behind this blog are driven by my extreme determination to procrastinate my final year of school AND my underlying fear of developing alzheimers and forgetting everything. Although forgetting some things wouldn't be that bad; such as my age.

Speaking of age I would like to make mention that this has become an issue for me, mostly because the number keeps increasing. I was staring at myself in the mirror at work the other day (there are mirrors everywhere, I'm not that vain) and realized that my "smile lines" have become smile "crevasses" on my face. It took everything in me to refrain from resorting to google to find the nearest botox center. (This is another issue that I'm sure will surface itself again throughout this blog). I probably would never go through with botox, actually that is a lie, I will never go through with botox in my 20's. I think I'm secretly hoping that the world of anti-aging will make great leaps and bounds by the time I truly do need some "help" and then injecting your face with pureed organic crap will be available. I've also realized that I will have to be a closet botox-er, my family would never let me live it down, just like that time I got stuck knee-deep in fish sperm and eggs and had to spend the rest of the day "airing off" while my family took part in their happy outing; bastards.

Believe it or not, there IS a part of me that enjoys my age, staying home on weekends, and being employed. For starters, I would take being 25 over reliving the years between 18 and 22, I greatly appreciate (though not while the drinking is actually happening) waking up Sunday mornings knowing EXACTLY what I did the night before and not having my eyelash stuck to my upper lip, and finally, though I have convinced myself that I "shouldn't have to work," I have concluded that I could not do the things I do now OR be able to buy SKY VODKA at any given day of the week if I didn't have a pay cheque. As a result of all of this I have started playing the lotto; this would solve everything.