thirty-seventh year

I haven't posted in an embarrassingly long time, but I felt compelled to at least update my blog with D's annual birthday poem. I look forward to receiving it every year, and it's one of those things that truly makes my birthday a happy one.

Another day, another year,

Here we meet again my dear.
Thirty six this time around,
I hope this poem finds you safe and sound.

I have only known you for fourteen of your years,
But great memories of you come when your birthday nears.
Furniture, the jewish, weddings, and nights on the town,
How i would love to celebrate with you today at the Rose and Crown.
How i miss having you in my life everyday,
But our friendship is real even though you are so far away.

Your beauty, your wit, your overall charm,
I know these kind words from me might cause alarm.
Not to worry I am just severely sleep deprived,
I am just happy that this day both my children have survived.

Happy Birthday dear Lesley, I hope you have fun,
May your year thirty six be the BEST one!!!!!

plan b.

So, after the DCFC concert that wasn't, T and I headed home and decided to watch a movie. I picked Winter's Bone, since I'd been wanting to see it for a while and T's movie picks can't always be trusted (hee!)

It was a bit odd, and totally not a Hollywood release, but I quite liked it.

T: They totally left that open for a sequel.

Me: (Confused.) They did?

T: Yeah. You know... "Winter's Bone 2: Teardrop's Revenge".

lady geraldine.

Iphone autocorrect fail at Lady Gaga concert:

Me: It's a total Geraldine here! LOL

What I meant to say was "gong show", but now I'm intrigued. This Geraldine character must be pretty outrageous.

sunglasses at night.

Last night, after a very yummy meal at T’s house, featuring bacon-wrapped turkey scaloppini stuffed with goat’s cheese, we (me, T and his boys) commenced our regular game of Nerf Wars.

After a lot of ducking, diving, shooting and some minor Nerf ball injuries, T and I collapsed in exhaustion (that, and we had wine to finish). D, not ready to end the war so soon, wanted to keep playing…


T: We surrender!

D: I will never surrender!

T: Like Corey Hart?

D: What’s that?

a girl's best friend's best friend.

(And by "girl's best friend" I mean jewelry - I can't say "diamonds" because I don't currently own any. Therefore, a "girl's best friend's best friend" would then refer to jewelry storage. Duh.)

My jewelry storage (if you can call it that) up to this point has been pretty sad. It has mainly consisted of
a couple of woven grass containers from Ikea overflowing with a jumbled mess of necklaces and earrings.
When I moved into the house, I attempted to become a little more organized and picked up a few plastic baskets from the dollar store, which quickly turned into another jumbled mess.

I'd been looking for a functional, yet stylish way to store/display my jewelry for a while, but never found anything that totally fit the bill. I wanted One Organizer To Fit Them All (sorry for the Lord of the Rings reference, I couldn't resist!) Then, about a month ago, I came across the perfect piece on Etsy (of course!)
Designed by Bluebirdheaven, this seller repurposes antique printing drawers into jewelry diplays not unlike shadow boxes. Having had one as a child, and I guess I never grew out of them because now I'm thrilled to have a big girl one!

Behold, the solution to all of my jewelry-related woes:

If ever I had a crush on an inanimate object, this would be it. It fits just about every piece I own and there's room for more. That, and it doubles as a pretty design piece. And if any of you have seen my home, you'd most certainly agree that I could use a few more pieces up on the walls. The words "austere","minimalist" and "clinical" have often come up in conversation. My excuse is that I don't want to slap stuff up on the walls as space fillers - I want to be thoughtful and find things I really love, like this piece. So there.

I suppose I'll have to come up with a solution once my collection expands even further, but I'll worry about that another time. For now, I just want to bask in the glow of this perfect find.

35.

Despite all suggestions to the contrary (I'm talking to you, T) - I am now in my MID-thirties, or entering my thirty-sixth year, as my Grandpa would say.

I think one of the birthday traditions I look forward to most (besides eating a disgusting amount of "cheap white" birthday cake) is receiving my annual birthday poem from my dear friend, D. And yesterday, without fail,  she delivered what I think is by far her best poem yet. Without further ado...

Oh Dear, oh dear the day is here,

Time to rejoice by consuming large quantities of beer.

You have successfully made it to age thirty-five,

Well, successfully may be a stretch but at least you're alive.

I can't seem to find a nice thing to say, cause thirty-five sucks rocks,

Good thing they cancelled the census - now you don't have to check the much older age box.

Things are saggy, droopy and the word perky no longer applies,

You're fricken old sister if any one says different it's all LIES LIES LIES.

I love you, D. You made my day. xo

eta.

Make that THREE leashes Gus has destroyed.

Sigh.

gus vs. stuff.

This is my boy Gus.

Cute, eh?

You know what's not cute? When Gus eats things that are outside this list:

• dog food
• dog treats
• bones
• sticks he finds outside
• snow
• grass (on occasion)

It's a short list, and one that I'm pretty strict about. But despite my best efforts, Gus has managed to create his own list of things he's eaten or maimed beyond all recognition:

Gus' List O' Destruction

• 2 pairs of underwear
• 1 pair of flip flops (not mine - ha!)
• 2 pairs of shoes (also not mine - ha!)
• 2 books: The Joy of Cooking (meh) and the Larousse French/English Dictionary (being a wurd nerd, I'm a bit offended by this sacrilege, but seeing as how he's not touched any books since, I'm chalking it up to an isolated incident)
• corners of things (curtains, throw pillows, the wall trim in the bathroom)
• 2 leashes
• 1 Curious George stuffed toy (poor George's demise was long and drawn out: first, one ear, then the other, then an eye and then came the disembowelment... I rescued George from further torture at that point and sent him to the big toy box in the sky.)

Then there's a sub-list that details the "people food" he's successfully obtained and snarfed:

Illegal Food Stuffs

• 1 lb. of butter
• a half-dozen taco shells
• a half-dozen cheesy bread sticks (same night as the taco shells)
• miscellaneous candy

Apart from the people food - which bothers me only to the extent that he could have gotten really sick - the only items on the list that really stick in my craw are the underwear (they're expensive!) and the leashes (also expensive, but why would a dog destroy the very tool that his owner uses to do his favourite activity?)

At the end of the day, I can't really blame Gus for destroying any of these things. Keeping him sufficiently distracted and constant vigilance are key. I'd like to think that I've been very vigilant with him- in fact, many of the items listed above were not eaten/destroyed on my watch. The problem is that despite his size and complete lack of grace, Gus is a stealth bomber when it comes to doing things he's not supposed to. Half the time I don't discover that he's even done anything wrong until well after he's committed the act, simply because he's sneaky and really neat about it. I swear he knows how to put things back to seeming order after he's pilfered whatever it is that's captured his interest.

I'm sure this is not the end of the list by any means. I suspect that Gus will doggedly (har!) continue to expand his list with new and obscure items at every opportunity. I only hope that he outgrows his underwear fetish!

redux.

[ri-duhks]; adjective; brought back; resurgent.

Um, so... yeah. I'm going to try this blog thing again. I've been thinking about it forever and now that life is a bit more sane it seemed to me as good a time as any to try.

I see that my last post was almost a year and a half ago. Oops. My bad. Instead of apologizing to my whopping audience of 5 people who no doubt "un-followed" me ages ago (come back!), I figured I'd just  do a "Coles Notes" review. What have I been up to in the last 17 months, you ask?

Let's see... in no particular order:

• changed jobs (again)
• traveled to the Mayan Riviera and made countless other smaller trips to such exotic locales as Montreal, Canterbury (NH), Syracuse (NY), etc.
• got my nosed pierced (finally!)
• moved TWICE and bought a house
• adopted an enormous dog

Throw a couple of status changes in there and that about sums it up. So, yeah, I've been a bit busy. ; )

Anyhow, I'm not entirely sure what direction I'll take this blog o' mine in, or how often I shall post, but I'm guessing it'll continue to be random on both counts. Coz that's just how I roll...

a propos.

My new t-shirt. :)

home stretch.

This year for Lent, I decided to give up something very dear to me, and that something is candy. Those who know me well know that I LOVE candy. Some might even call it an addiction. I call it proof that God loves me and wants me to be happy (ok, so I stole that last bit from beer, but whatev.) Nerds Ropes have gotten me through some very dark times - seriously. I wouldn't be surprised to find I am singlehandedly keeping Willy Wonka in business. Hmm, I wonder if they are publicly-traded? I should really look into that...

N.B. I should mention that chocolate was not included as part of my Lenten promise. I think it's pretty obvious to any candy connoiseur worth his/her salt (or sugar - ha!) that chocolate is NOT CANDY. It's its own food group all together. End of discussion.

So, back to Lent: I've been SO GOOD that I haven't even indulged on Sundays (Sundays don't count in Lent - I love loopholes!) I'd like to take a moment to point out that B's Lenten promise (not snoozing the alarm) lasted about two days. No flack from me, though - he picked a feat that would be humanly impossible for me to accomplish. Anyhow, Easter is almost upon us, and I am looking forward to my joyful reunion with candy. I'll keep you posted on the results...

UPDATE: I made it! Woot! Six weeks candy-free! I'm pretty proud of myself because I have absolutely zero self-discipline most of the time. Maybe next year I should give up not exercising regularly... Ha! Let's not kid ourselves: I love assal horizontology WAY too much. Today, I'm just going to bask in the small victories. How I've missed you, candy!

beware the ides of march.

I just got a little note from M, Pele's first momma, to say that today is Pele's birthday. He's 11 years old today. This is pretty much how Pele spent his birthday. In celebration, I'm going to give him a special birthday treat - 1/2 a can of wet food. Gag.

Happy Birthday, Pele!

33.

So, my 33rd birthday arrived on time this year, as it is wont to do, and with it my annual birthday poem from my dear friend D:

So today you find yourself at thirty three
your life has been a great journey
each wrinkle showing your age, like rings on a tree
you now only speak of sore backs and your bum knee

however there is reason to rejoice, you'll see....
you are at least half as beautiful as me
you've got yourself a man, however dumb he may be
you've got hair, that only half the time looks sill-ee
and you don't heat your apartment with the oven when it's chill-ee

I hope this day finds you extremely happy
I could not let the day go by without a poem for thee
I love you and miss you, your friend D

I love you, too, D. You made my day. :)

chloe.

This is my "niece" Chloe doing her part to help us unwrap our Christmas gifts. She's hands down the smartest dog I know.

Pele: a study.

one step closer

So, today was my first laser tattoo removal appointment. Happily, I can sum up my experience in three words: Piece. Of. Cake.

I had really built it up in my head to be much more than it was. The numbing cream seemed to have done its job, as it felt no more painful than being snapped by an elastic. The nurse did the whole tattoo in 10 pulses, and the whole procedure took no more that 30 seconds TOTAL. So, now I just have to keep it covered with vaseline and a bandage for the next week and my body will do the rest over the next 8-10 weeks. I made my next appointment during the Xmas holidays so I won't have to take any time off work.

I'm so excited for the end result - freedom is in sight! Woot!

(I promise to post some pics as soon as B returns from China with my camera.)

here goes nothing

So, today was my consultation appointment for tattoo removal. I was actually pretty excited about it, believe it or not.


The Consultation

First I met with a nurse, who went through my medical history with me. She asked me a bunch of interesting questions, including my ethnic origin. Apparently, the "ideal" candidates are fair: less pigment = less chance for skin discoloration from the laser. She also asked about the tattoo itself: the age of the tattoo, whether it was done by a professional or amateur, etc. The nurse then measured my tattoo and and did some calucalations to determine the cost of my treatment.


The Damage

The cost of treatment depends on two main factors: tattoo size (price is determined by number of laser pulses used to treat the area); and, whether the tattoo was done by an amateur or professional (professional tats are harder to remove because they tend go deeper under the skin and the ink used is high grade.) Dang! Too bad mine's not a prison tat, or I'd be off the hook in about 2 sessions!

The nurse estimated that the treatment of my tattoo will involve 16-18 pulses and will take 5-8 sessions, which will cost me a cool $2400 when everything is said and done. Ouch! I don't know which hurts more - the thought of being zapped by a laser hundreds of times or the blow to my pocketbook!

Here's the part where I do my PSA about tattoos: PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE think twice (hell, think three times) before you get a tattoo. It really IS permanent, and if you want to remove it, it's going to be a hell of a lot more painful and expensive then getting one in the first place! Let my experience serve as a cautionary tale.

The doctor came in after the initial consultation to talk to me a bit about the treatment and to take a look at my tattoo. She said that I was a good candidate because of my fair skin and the fact that my tattoo (being 10 years old) has already begun to fade on its own. The good news: she estimated that I'd only need 3-5 sessions! Woot! That's at least a little more palatable. Also working in my favour is that I have to wait a little longer between treatments because of the location of my tattoo, so I have more time to save my pennies in between treatments! The doctor explained that the further the tattoo is away from your heart, the longer it takes your body (via the lymph system) to carry away the ink particles broken up by the laser. So, instead of waiting 8 weeks between sessions, it'll be more like 10 weeks for me. Meh. Fine by me.

Next Steps

I suppose I could have taken some time to think about about it, but since there aren't really any other viable options, I've decided to bite the bullet. My first treatment is next Tuesday. Eeeek!

The whole appointment only takes a half hour, but I've got a few instructions to follow in preparation for it. I have to avoid tanning before and after the treatment (that should be difficult - anyone who knows me knows what a sun worshipper I am. Ha!) Tanned and even freckled skin "distracts" the laser and can result in hyper/hypo-pigmentation of the skin.

I also have to pick up some topical numbing cream (EMLA) to put on the area before the procedure. Apparently, the pain is similar to being splattered by hot bacon grease - sounds like a good time! I'll likely end up with a blister and peeling after the procedure while it heals and I have to be careful to keep area out of the sun to avoid hyper/hypo-pigmentation of the skin - again, this shouldn't be too hard since we're now entering six months of eternal gloom.

The last part of my appointment today was to have my tattoo photographed. They even have a professional photographer on site specifically for this purpose. I had my first "before" shoot today - thank God I shaved! I will be sure to ask to have copies of the pics so that I can post them for for all to see.

I'm excited. And nervous. But mostly excited. I know it'll be worth it.

P.S. Donations are now being accepted to the Whatsherface Tattoo Removal Fund. I'll need every penny I can get my hands on!

biting the bullet

I have a tattoo on my left ankle that looks very similar to the picture above. For those not in the know, it's the symbol for "infinity" and the Asshat and I got matching tattoos when we got engaged to symbolize our love. Feel free to stop right here and take a moment to puke. I did!

I've been wanting to do something about my tattoo for a while. At first, I thought about changing it into something else - many suggested adding two eyes and making it into glasses. Um, no. I considered turning it into a butter- or dragonfly, but seeing as I already have one of those "beauties" on my back (Ah, the things we do at the spur of the moment when seventeen and drunk on New Years Eve), I didn't want to add to my insect collection.

I've also considered laser removal (I have a hard time writing the word "laser" without saying it like Dr. Evil in my head and picturing air quotes. Tee hee.) I've never looked into it any more than casually until last week. I'm not sure what lit the fire under my butt, but (Ha! I said "butt" twice!) it was like an epiphany and I just KNEW it was the right thing to do. So, I did a little research and it turns out that there are two places in town that offer this service. One seemed like more of an esthetics/spa- type place, so I opted for the medical/doctor-supervised option.

This decision is not about erasing my past. It's more about reclaiming what's mine (in this case, my ankle. Ha!) But seriously - it's about MY life. Mine. I've been doing this slowly, but surely, piece by piece, over the last five years and I think this is just about the last thing that's keeping me from full closure and peace of mind. And, to me, that's worth every penny and every ounce of pain.

There are also some practical reasons for doing this: the truth is that I'm not 18 anymore, and while I still really like the idea of tattoos (and fully intend to get another one some day), I've recently started a new job at a management level and the reality is that these adornments can often be looked at negatively by "old schoolers". (Incidently, this is also the reason I've put to bed my desire to get my nose pierced.) When it comes to personal body adornments, I want to have the option to conceal them when necessary and appropriate, and with this one, it's just not possible.

I know it'll probably hurt like hell and it's definitely going to cost me several times more than getting the tattoo in the first place, but it's worth it to me.

My consultation is tomorrow. I'll keep you posted with updates (and pics!) as I go through this process.

sausage

There's no other way to put it: I'm bustin' out all over the place and NOT in a good way.

Chalk it up to the gluttony that comes with new love and a new job (think "Freshman 15") - I have slowly, but surely been packing it on. In the last eight years or so, I've consistently slid up and down the scale by anywhere from 5-30 lbs. I have great range, some would say. Har!

Because of my weight schizophrenia, my wardrobe consists of a three size spread and right now I'm at the UPPER upper end of the range, which renders a good 90% of the items in my closet unwearable, unless I want to subject friends, colleagues and strangers to my very own impression of a sausage. In fact, right now, as I sit typing this at my desk, I have a lovely case of Muffin Top going on. Sigh.

There have been many reasons for my weight gain/loss and a lot of it can be directly attributed to my emotional barometer. When I'm happy, I eat. When I'm sad, I eat. Except for when I'm REALLY sad - THEN, and only THEN do I lose my appetite.

I also love food. And I have a ginormous appetite. And a sweet tooth. And a salty tooth. It's all my Dad's fault! Deprivation will not work for me. I have absolutely zero willpower. And I can get mighty bitchy when I'm feeling deprived.

I'd need to be on a program that allows me treats or a cheat day. I've done Weight Watchers before because it seems to be the most reasonable program out there and I've had moderate success with it. The only problem is that it does involve organization, and lately I wouldn't call this one of my strong suits.

Seriously, the last year or two, I've gone from one of the most anal and organized people I know, to a total and utter organizational misfit. It boggles my mind how I got so bad: these days, it takes all my energy just to get out the door in the morning with my teeth brushed. Like today, for example. Ha!

So...

Tomorrow, B leaves on a business trip for two weeks. Since I'll have a lot of alone time on my hands, I'm vowing now to use it for good instead of evil: I'm going to come up with a Game Plan.
The crux of my plan will revolve around getting my shit together. And that means ALL my shit, because it's all related. I've got to starting planning meals, activities, chores, outfits - everything. I think this will go a long way towards feeling better and in control of my life. Feeling empowered will help me stay positive and motivated to reach my goals. Oi, I'm starting to sound like Dr. Phil.
Hopefully the fact that I've blathered about it in a public forum will help me stay accountable. Anyhow, I'll keep you posted.

I also promise more fun(ny) posts and less drama, too. It's all part of the GP!

a way with words

Said to me after watching intently while I changed out of my work clothes and into my comfies:

B: We really need to get back into the gym.