Sunday. Bloody #^%+?! Sunday.

I'm a bad Canadian.  "Why?" you ask? Because I cannot bring myself to give one thousandth of a fuck about this Canada vs. Sweden game.  And it's hockey, so it's pretty much akin to treason to not care. Social media this Sunday morning has become a vast wasteland of play-by-play updates.

Oh, well.

I am grouchy.  My body has decided to play an elaborate joke on me, which culminated in a trip to the emergency room yesterday with a laundry list of symptoms dating back to last Tuesday.

I'll give you a brief timeline:

Tuesday: headache

Wednesday: headache, brief dizzy spells, coated tongue

Thursday: body aches, fever, chills, coated tongue

Friday: fever, chills, body aches, rash covering neck, shoulders, chest.

Saturday: ridiculously bad indigestion (7 on pain scale, enough to inducing sobbing) and severe, sudden onset full-body muscle pain, more rash covering most of my arms, trunk etc.

So the Well-Travelled One and I make the trip to Emerg, because why wouldn't I want to spend a Saturday afternoon at the local hospital? Most of the ER doctors are tolerable, however the one I got insisted on cutting me off and talking over me, as I listed off the symptoms above, and noted that I am a recovering cancer patient lacking a colon and that I had just (on Monday) gotten off a 21 day run of corticosteroid based anti-inflammatory enemas.

Yeah, you read that right.  21 days of enemas. That's a fun tale for another day.  Or perhaps a medically-themed Christmas carol.

"Oh, yeah.  We've been seeing a lot of this," the doctor tells me.

"What? You've been seeing a lot of people with fever, chills, headaches, rashes, stomache pains, full body aches and coated tongues?"

"Yeah."

"At the same time?"

Jesus.  So, Dr. Interrupto tells me it is viral and to treat the symptoms until the virus runs its course.  Amazing. I'm not sure I'm convinced.  My love who, sometimes to his own detriment, lives to research the shit out of stuff, thinks some of it could be a withdrawal from the anti-inflammatories.  The rash, which inexplicably comes and goes, feels like an allergic reaction. It's not out of the realm of possibility that I could be suffering an allergic reaction, a withdrawal, and some sort of virus at the same time because let's face it, this is ME we're talking about.

All of the symptoms come and go.  Yesterday, the body aches showed up whenever the indigestion subsided.  Then, when the indigestion came back, the body aches would go.  Then, when both of them subsided, that's when the rash came back with a vengeance.  

And I tell you, I am the worst at not scratching.  This is what I managed to do to my tender inner-upper arm flesh yesterday:

I know, that's pretty hot, right?  Sexxaaaaay.

So, today I am sitting at mildly achy, a little itchy and crazy-lethargic.  That could be Sunday talking, however.  I'm hoping whatever this is runs its course soon, and that no one else catches it, as I would not wish this on my worst enemy.

Quick and Dirty Photo Post.. but not actually Dirty Photos.. sorry.

So excuse this moment of vapid attention-whoring, but I got new glasses and I want to show them off.  On previous trips to purchase eyewear I was torn between lighter or thicker frames.  Last week I went in and there was a sale...

So I got both.

That is, indeed, the newly-detesticled asshole cat on the chair behind me.

Pair number two

Oh and in case you were wondering, I also got myself a little bit of a giftie.

Sexy, right?

I'm now tasked with the.. uh.. task of giving him/her/zie a name.  I haven't even assigned it a gender.. most of my other guitars I've given guy monikers.  This one is a little prettier, a little sexier that I'm inclined to lean towards a more feminine signature.

I'm thinking of naming her after a song name.  I've always been a little fascinated by 'name-songs' and always a little jealous of people who have songs with their name in the title.  At least, I was jealous until I found out that one of my favorite alt-country (I really can't lump them in with regular country, but they're not *quite rock*) bands, Blue Rodeo had a song called Andrea.  It's an odd little tune, sung by Greg Keelor, and sounds like some kind of 'My Drug Buddy' type tune.

Andrea I'm so happy that you called 
Just to hear your voice 
Helped dissolve 
The paranoia 
Until the drugs wore off


The name Jolene, after the Dolly Parton tune, is jumping out as a possible option.  It's a fairly unique name and seems to match the vibe I get from this particular instrument.

What are your favorite "Name-Songs?"  Do you share a name with any songs that you know of?

I wanted to upload a video to christen my new whats-her-face, and was inspired as I wrote this post so here you go.  Be warned, I hate seeing myself on video, so I haven't watched this.  If it's terrible, you have my sincerest apologies.



Isn't that one awesome thumbnail image?  I WILL EAT YOUR SOUL!!!  I need a haircut.

In other news, I went to Guelph yesterday with my friend Tess for her birthday.  We loaded up the car with all of our respective children and her SO, and went to see A Suessical Musical along with her sister and grandma.  Was a very late night as showtime was 6:30 and Guelph is about three hours away from here.  The children were extra "F.U.N." (read: Fucking Unbelievable Nightmare) to get up this morning but all in all it was worth it, a fun time for everyone involved.

One last picture.  Although most of the time he's kind of a dick, as I have mentioned, occasionally Simon manages to break out the cute.

It's like a kitty-vampire coffin.  Kind of.  If cats were shaped like guitars.

Say It, Don't Spray It.

I have a lisp.

Or I used to.

I've been told that it's gone away.  Some claim they still hear it.

I don't know, I've never really been aware of it, personally.

I figure it's a result of an underdeveloped jaw and teeth that are just too bloody big for my head.  I have vague memories of being sent to a speech-language pathologist as a small child who spent hours with me insisting that I try to make a boat with my tongue...

Clearly, the pathologist was a waste of time, because 20+ years later I still had this impediment.  Go figure.

I once dated a guy who had a real 'thing' for my lisp.  For reasons entirely beyond my comprehension, he found it...sexy?

Let me be clear.  I don't have one of those cute cross-between-a-two-year-old-and-Tweety-Bird lisps where all your Elle's and Arh's come out like Double-You's.

"Hewwo Saiwor.. Buy Me a Dwink?" - Source

No, indeed, I have the Say-it-don't-spray-it brand of lisp that results in all of your Esses making you sound like a drunken anaconda.  HAWT.

In university, I somehow always ended up doing oral presentations on topics that succeeded in aggravating my particular speech impediment:

For History of Science:  An independent study on the history and development of the Oral Contraceptive.  Lots of fun words to say, like Estrogen, and Progesterone!

For Minority Groups throughout the World:  A presentation on... The Tuskegee Syphilis Experiment

and for Environmental Science: The Commercial Fishing Industry in Canada:  Pacific Salmon.

Oh yeah.. for that last one, I had a choice, east coast or west coast.  Do you think I picked the east coast?  Oh Hell no.  That would have been too easy.  Not nearly enough Ess sounds in ATLANTIC COD, noshiree.

*sigh*

Wait.. 

*shigh*

Being a T-Shirt Whore on the Interwebs is like being a Smack addict... well, anywhere there's a lot of heroin lying about.

Remember a while back when I told all y'all about my T-Shirt collection that is slowly taking over every-drawer in my dresser?

I'm finding blogging is leading me to a whole new world of T-shirt whoredom.  I'm not necessarily talking about 6 Dollar Shirts or the unfortunate but appropriately named T-Shirt Hell, but I refer to a recently discovered genre of T-shirts.

The Blog-Inspired Inside Joke T-Shirt.

I kid you not.  This year for Christmas, I may populate my entire Christmas list with Awesome T-Shirts I've See Around The Web That No One Will Get But Me And Other Blog Readers.

First, from Josh at The Comics Curmudgeon (along with the help of the other 'mudges, and the writers of Apartment 3G) is this gem here - The 'Too Fancy For Hoboken and Too Hot For Church' design:

Source

The fun one about this one, is you can get matching underpants.  UNDERPANTS.

Actually, I may bypass the T-shirt and arrange to have "Too Fancy for Hoboken and Too Hot for Church" engraved on my Tombstone.  How kickass would that be?

This next one is the handiwork of The Bloggess:

Source

I'm not sure if I like the shirt so much as I just love the story behind it.

But.. I'll admit, I have an ulterior motive behind writing this post about Awesome T-Shirts On The Web.

I do, it's true.  I am not proud.

Here it is.

Source

Sometimes I just can't wait for Christmas.  And I'm cheap as all hell, and I love, love, love me some free stuff.  And now, right now, right this very minute, the famous-as-well-as-infamous Aunt Becky of Mommy Wants Vodka is holding a contest to win one of her profanity-laden T-shirts.

And i want that one.  In purple.  Because it's true, purple should be a flavour. It's my second favorite color behind red.  If it was available in red, I'd get in in red, honestly.  But I like purple a lot as well.  When I'm old, I'm going to be one of those Red Hat Society ladies, and just wear a shit-ton of red and purple.  ALL THE FRIGGIN TIME.  and drink tea laced with bourbon with my red-and-purple-wearing friends, and man oh MAN is it going to be a kick-ass time.

So yes, go check out the contest.  In the meantime, until I can be a red-hat lady, I will be happy to wear my Aunt Becky T under my work clothes at my customer service job and when I am on the phone dealing with people who by rights shouldn't be capable of driving or owning property, I can look down my own top and think "Yes. 'Shut Your Whore Mouth, indeed."

And I will smile.

half-assedness and artistry

crafting is good for the stress levels so I thought I'd share some of the stuff I've completed lately.

But first!!

Guess what came in the mail today?  I won a blog challenge a week or so ago over a it's never too late to save a hopeless case and today I received, care of one ms. steph gas, this lovely tote bag from her store Rule 42 Inc.  You should go check it out, especially the custom t-shirt bags that I would love to make myself if I wasn't ridiculously intimidated by my sewing machine.  Seriously, it scares the shit out of me.

sexy, no?

I'm pretty stoked that she also addressed me the package with my full name and title, as requested:

click to enlarge.  my thumb is covering my address to prevent stalkers.

In the meantime I've been working on some fun stuff and in honor of the half-assed weekend post, I'll share:

This is a mirror that my friend gave me that had been kicking around her basement for the last four to five years.  It was originally a plain blond wood mirror.  I sanded the frame down and painted it with a bright red acrylic, then decided to do the inside perimeter in black.  I had inteded to do the entire frame red.  Then I used an enamel glass paint to do the zebra stripes in the corners.

It was pretty time-consuming, and I had to do it twice since the first time I used a brush-on varnish instead of a glaze (turns out there's a difference.. who knew?  I know, everyone but me.)  The varnish peeled half of the paint off.  I guess it hadn't quite settled.  So I had to scrub it all off and try again.

The second time around I used a spray-glaze that claimed to dry 'crystal-clear' so I just kind of sprayed the whole thing in this stuff and much to my chagrin, this resulted in a nice frosted-glass mirror that wasn't of much to anyone who actually wanted to, oh, I don't know.. look at themselves.  Out came the Windex and before it dried too much I managed to scrub most of the glaze off the reflected surface.  There's still a bit of a sheen from it though.

Next:

This is the completed frame that I had mentioned doing a few weeks back.  Finding a plain frame was a pain in the ass. I searched the salvation army and finally tried the Dollar stores, as usually they have plain frames in the arts and crafts section.  No luck though, couldn't find them.  So this is kind of a cheap dollar store plastic frame painted red, with black on the interior rim, and polka dots.

I still don't know the photographers name.  I'm thinking my dad might know.

Update:  So I was at the gas station the other day and I saw the guy who took the Betty Boop photo and remembering this entry and my earlier one, I ran up and asked him his name again for the sake of being able to properly credit him for his work.  His name is Corey Ramsbottom and he does a lot of scenic and landscape photography.  Check out his website here.

This one I'm pretty proud of:

Once again, dollar store frame which I happened to find while searching for the frame above, plus paint, and podge, and comic book leavings.  I love the way it turned out and I'm thinking of going back for a few more of these frames, because I'd love to make more of these.

A few weeks ago Facebook had a meme going around where you take the first five people on your friends sidebar (no refreshing!) and they become your team for the Zombie Apocalypse.  I got three of my best friends and two co-workers, whom I happen to like and respect.  Got bored so here's my rendering of my zombie apocalypse team:

I'm third from the left

So that's about all.  I'm off to enjoy the rest of my weekend.

this has been a half-assed weekend post, brought to you by a Simple Dude in a Complex World

Socks, you have been effectively rocked.

Just a few quick updates.

Went to Toronto with a friend to go see the Schomberg Fair for Canadian Music Week.  I was pretty much pathetically broke so Cory was cool enough to pay my way in and be my 'date' even though I wasn't going to put out (har har).  As always the guys guys in the band proved to be super-awesome to their fans and we got to be dweeby fangirls and hangout with Nate Sidon and Peter Garthside, and were suitably thrilled to find out that Pete's a local boy, as it turns out.  

I'm a nerd of epic proportions.

It was a pretty good show, although not quite surpassing last years show at the Horseshoe Tavern.  I think the sound-mixing was a little off, and as a result the vocals were not fantastic, but otherwise, pretty kickass show.  My socks were effectively rocked.  The two opening acts (the Treasures and Northcote) we caught were pretty good too.

Ugh, by the way, I fuckin' hate people who get stupid drunk and try to pick fights at shows.  Some chick very sloppily bumped into me a number of times, and when I turned around to say 'Uhm.. yeah, about that?' she started making that weird "I've got my eye on you" gesture at me.  What.  The.  Fuck.  Ever.  I left that shit behind in high school.  Learn to hold your liquor, chickyboo.

Yeah.  This one.  ooh, scary.  Source

This is the same girl that thought'd be funny to reach out and turn the mike around (the Dakota Tavern is a relatively small venue, with little space between the stage and dancefloor) so when Matt went to sing it wasn't there. 

I'm way too effin' old to be out until 6:30 am, and the time-change screwed with that even more fantastically.  But I feel kind of bad-assed, nonetheless.

Work is quiet because everyone is away at Pittcon, which is basically the Woodstock of our industry.

I got blog awarded and the best thing is, I don't have to do anything for this one except link back to the lovely lady that bestowed it upon me.  So without further ado, courtesy of the Everyday Goddess is the Goddess Award:

The Goddess Award

This will be going on my validation page, for sure.  Thanks, Everyday Goddess!  I suggest going and checking her out.

March Break is awesome because getting the kids ready in the morning is ridiculously easy.  As long as they have pants covering their butt and they've brushed their teeth, we're pretty much good to go in the mornings.

Yeah.  So, in an effort to curb the late-night snacking, I'm gonna go spend some quality time with my guitar.  Still contemplating a ukelele purchase when income tax time comes.  Unfortunately the need for tires may usurp that vision.  Friggin' ridiculous, right?  I *finally* get my snow tires on, and now I have to think about getting SUMMER tires.  It. Never. Freakin. Ends.

Lastly, I'm still looking for pledges for the Great Strides for CF walk and I will be making myself a pain in the ass over it between now and the time of the walk.  Breathing is awesome and Cystic Fibrosis is lame so if you're so inclined, feel free to make a small donation.

Numbers are just so.. Arbitrary.

I have a new weight loss goal.

So some may not know, but over the last four years I've lost about 60 lbs through Weight Watchers, and just better eating habits and more exercise. 

I stopped going to Weight Watchers this past January because I got pissed off with yet another corporate giant milking consumers for all they are worth.

Since then, I've been attempting to at least maintain, but some of my clothes are telling me I've not been doing a bang-up job on that front.  Mostly everything still fits, but a couple of things aren't looking as nice as they did a month or two ago.  Not owning a bathroom scale, I'd wager a guess I've put on maybe 5-10 lbs tops.

I intend to go back to tracking and attending meetings at a local group that costs a dollar a week rather than the 15 that weight watchers gouges you for.

As mentioned, I also have a new goal, one far less arbitrary than a silly number on a scale (which was, by the way 150 lbs.. at my lowest I was still 20 away from that). 

awesome

The coolest fucking pants on the planet.  I'd say universe because aliens may have the technology to make pants more fantastic than these, but if they do, I don't need to know about it.  I found them today at the Salvation Army for seven dollars.  Never worn.

So yeah.  My goal is to fit into these pants.  Numbers be damned.  Okay not totally damned, some numbering is involved.  These are a size 11.. I'm currently hovering around 12-13.  I think getting to a point where I can fit the most fucking spectacular awesome size 11 plaid pants is an admirable, yet reasonable goal.

So here we are, week 1.

I see London, I see France...

I haven't decided on weekly, bi-weekly or monthly updates yet.

**********************************

In other news, last night was the final Midland production of the Vagina Monologues.  The show went over fantastically and we sold around 400 tickets which means a lovely wad of cash for our local women's shelter.  Great show, great ladies, great cause.  I'm both sad and glad to see it done, because although I get my life back now, it really was a lot of fun and I met so many awesome people.

***********************************

Chloe's plumbing is all gone, finally got her spayed.  Still dealing with evil demon kitties I currently have, but at least it's without threat of more to come.  She looks truly pathetic right now though.

Hiding under the table as the boys still don't understand "Closed for Business"

Coming soon.. Tsunamis, Fangirlishness and Rape Culture (in unrelated posts, of course).

Rip-snortin' ass-kickin' Sunday Round-up

Pretty darn good.  That's probably my best way to describe this weekend.  No complaints here.

Friday night I picked up some Sushi for dinner at the local RCSS, and since they've changed the delivery day to Friday, it was very very fresh.  I really want to go out for actual restaurant sushi but I'm good with grocery store grade in the meantime.

Headed down to the Legion for karaoke with mom and Sharon.  Dad was already there for darts.  I haven't been out since before Christmas so I was having some withdrawal.  Ended up having a blast and getting some work out of the deal.  Looks like I might have a gig hosting the karaoke night on my kid-free Fridays.  I go in on the 11th so that Lance, our current KJ can train me on the equipment.  Pretty awesome.  Some extra cash to go towards my house-downpayment-fund for two nights work a month, for being where I might already be any given Friday.  Can't beat that.

Speaking of house hunting, mortgage calculators of the ilk that you find on real estate sites are bullshit, and depressing as hell.  According to the mortgage calculator, I can afford roughly $278 a month for a mortgage (which puts me at about $38,000 for a house.  I can't get a mobile home for that little around here).  I pay $700 bucks a month rent, plus hydro and I am not behind on my bills, and I'm managing to pay down my debt so CLEARLY I can afford more than $278 a month for a mortgage.

So eat me, mortgage calculator.

Back to happier things.  While at the Legion a group of about 10 snowmobilers/cottagers from Strathroy come walking in, most of them around my age (couple older dudes, and at least one paperboy).  My first thought, as one of the youngest available women in the Legion was "Oh! Hello Boys! Happy Birthday to Me!"

Normally I'm about as socially awkward as they come but on Friday, whether it was the beer or just a general sense of well-being and oneness with the world coupled with just feeling like holy-shit-I-am-one-hawt-mamma I was kind of on that night and lapping up the attention, especially from one of the cuter guys, who bought me a beer and asked for a dance.  He was a riot, and we spun and twirled and made clumsy attempts at dipping while his friends hooted and hollered and we all sang along to any given songs.  What a fun bunch they were, and I was feeling full of confidence.

Saturday I got up and went into town to take some clothes to the Salvation army and attempted to find a plain wood frame I to use for this print that I bought at the craft sale I did a few weeks back.  I can't for the life of me remember the photographer's name but if I remember it I will link back. In the meantime, please, no one steal this image, kay?  I'd feel really bad if you did.   'preciate it.  I just want a plain wood frame so I can paint it.  I'm thinking either red with white polka dots, or black with white polka dots.

Got a source now - Corey Ramsbottom Photography

Saturday afternoon I went ice skating with my friend Tessa and her boyfriend and her kids.  My ankles felt like jelly and I think I need to invest in some hockey skates.  I think they'd be more conducive to my skating style than the figure skates I currently have.   We left soon after Tess fell and bruised her arm pretty good, which was unfortunate and quite surprising since Vegas odds would be on me being the one that wiped out, but I miraculously didn't fall once.

Saturday night I grabbed my guitar and headed to the local church for their coffee house night.  I showed up a bit late so as a result I was dead-last on the roster, but I held out and managed to get a few songs in.

Here's what I played:

When I Come Back - NQ Arbuckle and Carolyn Mark (I posted a vid of myself playing this a while back.  You can see it here)

I Make the Dough, You Get the Glory - Kathleen Edwards (I've always kind of considered her a poor-man's Sarah Harmer, but I enjoy this tune a lot.)


Tina's Glorious Comeback - Dan Mangan (Future Husband and Stepfather to my children.  I wish.)

If You're Gonna Be Dumb You Gotta Be Tough - Karen O (This song is fun as hell to play)

Just a little Open Mic Ettiquette 101.  Everyone wants a chance to play.  If the mode number of songs people are playing is four, it might be poor form to play seven,  you know?

Because I was very last on the bill, I was a little late to catch the free show being put on by Run With The Kittens at one of the local restaurants, but I did manage to make it about halfway through their first set.  I've never actually heard of them before, but I found them enjoyable.  Their sound is an odd mix of experimental sounds and blues-based rock.  When I listened to them, all I could think of was the Moldy Peaches tune Downloading Porn with Davo (NSFW people).  Later I found a similarity to catl as well.

Sadly, although a great restaurant, I found the Explorer's Cafe lacking as a live music venue.  Lacking space to move, that is, so I left at the intermission as my claustrophobic tendencies were making me a bit twitchy.

Today was laundry and grocery shopping day.  I met up with my mom and sister at the seventh circle of hell and promtly informed them that I was totally compromising my principles just to hang out with them, because I rarely shop at Wal-Mart if I can avoid it.

Feeling accomplished as I managed to make both Jello and Rice Krispie Squares for the girls lunches. Making them homemade is way cheaper than buying these things. A box of Jello costs about 69 cents and makes around six servings.. a pack of jello cups is about 2.99 and they have four.

With a box of Rice Krispies (4.99), three bags of marshmallows (@1.27 each, so $3.75 let's say) and a half pound of butter (1.50) you can make 4-6 dozen rice Krispie squares.  A box of 8 individually wrapped ones are about 2.99.  Plus by making the stuff, you get around the litterless lunch manifesto of the schools.

Don't get me wrong,  I love the idea of a litterless lunch, and we should all do our parts to cut down on garbage.  But telling a kid to take a granola bar out of it's wrapper and bring it in a container is bullshit.  And I doubt the school is going to come to my house and wash all my bloody plastic containers.  So I tell the girls "No, it's not litterless, but it's still less litter."

Gotchie Blog

It amazes me sometimes how the little things can throw me into a state of indescribable happiness.

I bought new underwear.

About 10 months ago, I had made plans for some dirty boy company, and decided to purchase some new gotchies for the occasion. I got a bra (which had unfortunately not lasted much more than three months, it's still in my drawer, waiting for me to get off my duff and sew the strap back together) and two pairs of black undies, one a simple bikini with a cherry design, and the other a pair of lace trimmed hipsters.

Little did I know those hipsters would prove to be the most comfortable AND sexy-good-feeling inducing underoos I would ever own.

I went back a week or two later determined to get more. They were out of stock. So I made do with the one pair I had, kicking myself for not picking up more at the time.

Today I shop and DEAR GOD, they are back in stock, so I picked up a pair in every available color in my size, as the original pair is getting rough from having been worn and washed once a week, every week, for the last 10 months. I tell you, lacy-underpants-day was ALWAYS the best day of the week. And now I have FIVE of them.

Delirious.


Underpants - more than just ass-coverage.

Oh yeah, let this pic also be a testament to how friggin baggy my pants have gotten..YAY!!

It’s 3:15 am, my time.

Andie is a little buzzed tonight, a bizarre combination of rye and Tim Hortons Coffee. Oh Tim, if you weren't a corpse, probably no more than bones at this time, I would make sweet sweet love to you. A little buzzed and very cold.

The baseball banquet was more fun than expected, dinner surpassing dessert in the yum category, chicken covered in all manner of seasoning, and broiled potatoes with a tangy lemon suggestion. There was dancing and door prizes. I'm the proud owner of a glass cutting board and insulated wine bottle. Being a woman's league, there was not an eligible male in sight, with the possible exception of the DJ, and both K and I commented on his gawkish cuteness, but neither bothered to investigate further. Oh, the road not taken.

We coffee, and convinced by my good friend Danno, we are guided to the entrance to the very pit of hell, but in P-tang, they call it Yorkies. There are bars that girls drag their boyfriends to, and this is a bar that guys drag their girlfriend too. Or in our case, their very understanding female friends. or as K put it, their awesome understanding female friends. As I then said, their 'going above and beyond the call of duty awesome understanding female friends' *looks pointedly at Danno*

For a bribe of two rounds, we keep him company. The band is alright, but I've heard better. They can handle Stevie Ray, which is admirable, but then proceed to eff up something as simple as Third Eye Blind. "might have been a request" I surmise. A man who smells of onions .... yes, ONIONS.... says he heard a rumour we could dance ("it would be awesome, if we could dance... "it's been running through my head all day). Dan gets the kiss of death (the kiss of death is chaste, given to the foreheadal area) and I say 'Never again."

Sit in Timmies parking lot, Bob has joined us. It's cold but conversation is plentiful, even for almost 2 am. Watching police pulling over errant drivers, I'm glad my car is at home. It gets colder, coversation dies down, as the caffiene rushes rush off. We part ways.

At home, I have two messages, both from sam, one is the boy, one is the girl. My cat is being nocturnal and chasing imaginary ghosts, perhaps evil spirits dragged from the bar called Yorkies, but I call sketchy. I'm cold and tired and tomorrow is another day.

My hips lie all the time.. I wish they would stop.

I took my first belly dancing lesson tonight. It was a lot of fun, but a wake up to how unco-ordinated I am capable of being. I'm surprised I can chew gum and walk at the same time.

Imma buy me one a them jangly skirts from the crazy indian store in Barrie. Oh yeah.

Therapy?

Well, I did something pretty therapeutic today. Been a little depressed lately, may have something to do with the time of year, since this week marks three years since my marriage crashed and burned. It still gets to me. Its getting better though. My anniversary passed last September with me barely noticing.

ANYWAY. I got rid of the engagement ring and the wedding band. Yup, sold 'em. Price be damned. Decided I didn't care what I got for it. So off to the Hock Shop I go, got a crappy price (of course) then decided I would buy myself something nice, something just for me, to celebrate my emancipation from another reminder of a difficult period in my life.

But what to get? I thought it should be extra special. I was going to get another tattoo but my cheap side won out, since I can get one cheap (well free, actually) and I didn't have the pattern I wanted with me. So I looked, and I saw something I have wanted for about 2 years now.

A Corset!

Its beautiful, and so symbolic for me. I wanted something just for me, to remind me that yes, I AM a SEXY BITCH!

So, yeah... thats my news for today.