And the joke's on me!

So, the other day was my birthday.  I decided that I was going to make it a ME day by wearing my Manolo's while watching Sex in the City and drinking cosmos.  That was the plan.  But first I had to return a couple bottles of red wine at the LC  (like WHO drinks red?!  Ewwww!), and grab some vodka and Triple Sec to help make my vision complete. 

So I'm at the LC and the guy says to me:

"Got some I.D. for me?"

And I gasped.  Audibly. You know, that excited sort of gasp.

*GASP*

"I most surely do!" I say.

"It's my birthday today and I'm 36!"  I say so proudly.

"I love how I still get I.D.'ed too!" I say a little louder, in a bragging sort of way.

The guy says in a totally unimpressed voice:

"Happy Birthday Ma'am.  I need your I.D. for return purposes."

Bastard.

Happy Christmas!

They say Christmas is a time for reflection; a time to spend with family and friends.  There's a spirit of Christmas, it's something felt, not described.  It's fluid, intangible and although I wish I could grasp it in my hands and bottle it for those brutal February days, it can really only be appreciated once a year.  Sometimes it takes me a long time into December to feel it and it's those years I just want it to come and go.  I can just picture my mom's eyeballs pop out after reading that statement (Mrs. Christmas herself!).  This year however, I think I felt it mid November.  Maybe it's because my favourite radio station decided to convert to 24/7 Christmas music in mid November, or maybe it's because I just feel different this year.  I feel appreciative.  Humble.  You know what?  For the first time in my adult life, I actually feel adult-like.  Odd thing to say, seeing how I'll be 36 next week (OMG, I'm getting O-L-D!), and considering I have a 14 (and a half) year old son, but there's just a different vibe to me this year.  I'm heading in a direction that I never believed was possible. Simply, I feel good.  Really really good.

It's Christmas Eve Eve.  All the presents are (finally!) wrapped, cards signed, and the tree is looking fab!!  The stockings are hung and Max has been strategically placed just right.

Even Kobe-dog is in the spirit of things!  (Of course I had to hold a treat up in order for him to look in my direction - stubborn ass.) 

Tomorrow we head out to the lake.  Presents are in great big garbage bags.  An overnight bag is packed.  Kobe is stressing out.  And my man is sick.  Ugh.  Poor guy.  Three cheers for Buckley's and Advil Cold & Sinus! 

Happy Christmas all!! 

I need to email Santa now so he knows where to find me tomorrow night.

The Work Mantra

Too funny not to share.  Yesterday I got an email from Hilary that went like this:

From: Hilary
Sent: Monday, December 20, 2010 11:09 AM
To: Suzanne; Raylene; Michelle
Subject: mmmmm....bacon

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Xc5wIpUenQ&feature=channel

watch it all the way through….it’s something else.

_______________________________________________________________________

To which I replied like this:

From: Michelle 
Sent: Monday, December 20, 2010 11:31 AM
To: Hilary; Suzanne; Raylene
Subject: RE: mmmmm....bacon

LOL!  This place kills me.  They give access to Facebook to only have Joelle send out emails like this:

Just a reminder, as per the policy manual, there is no Facebooking or other social networking sites allowed on office computers.  Thank you. 

But then they BLOCK you tube. 

Does THAT make ANY sense????

_______________________________________________________________________

To which Suzanne responded like this:

From: Suzanne

Sent: Monday, December 20, 2010 11:33 AM
To: Michelle; Hilary

Subject: RE: mmmmm....bacon

Well, if it makes you feel any better - Joelle is logged into FB right now.....lol 

_______________________________________________________________________

The moral of the story:

Firm Mantra:  Do As I Say Not As I Do.

Hell-ar-i-ous.
 

My Precious....

Last night after work I had a nail appointment.  As I walked to my appointment I passed some pretty cool boutiques and shops.  There are book stores and wedding stores and designer clothing stores and shoe stores.....  Well, last night I passed a store called "Moi" where I saw them.  There they were, I've been looking for them for over a year now, sitting in the window, calling my name, just begging me to walk in and buy them.  I resisted temptation because it's Christmas after all and I have a school bill due in a few weeks and a trip to Jamaica to somehow pay for, but I just couldn't stop thinking about them.  All night.  I think I even dreamed about them.  I woke up this morning with my mind made up.  I HAD to have them.  There was simply no choice in the matter.   I've been looking for far too long for something just like them and as long as they were reasonably priced and in my size, I was going to call them mine. All mine.

11:30 came and my heart started to pound and my mouth went dry.  I was beyond, beyond excited.

Off I went on my lunch time adventure.  I walked into the store, talked to the owner, checked the price (15% off!!), asked for my size (which he had!!), and tried them on.

Oh.

My.

God.

Bliss.

I am now the proud owner of these:

Another angle:

And yet another angle:

Wickedly gorgeous I know!!  So beautiful.  So perfect.  So ME!!

*sigh*

They come in burgandy too.

It's under consideration.

Excuses, excuses

It's the gym hour right now.  Instead I'm dressed and ready for work.  I stepped outside with a cup of coffee and watched the Kobes run around in the back yard doing his doggy hop through the snow.  Today is "leg day", followed by 30 minutes on the treadmill.  Instead I'm considering Tim Horton's for breakfast, maybe even McDonalds.  I've let the gym slide over the past weeks.  There's always an excuse. First it was school:  "I just don't have the time!", and then it was "School is done!  Let's celebrate with a Mars bar!", and now that it's Christmas I say:  "But it's Christmas.  Let's have a crantini and a turtle!".   Excuses, excuses.

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

I don't like kids.  Well, except for my guy, but he's a teenager and knows better. Don't get me wrong, I think they're cute and all, but only if they're babies and they're quiet.  Why do they have to scream and wail?  Why exactly?  I think they do it just to annoy me and so I say to my man:  I'm so glad we've decided not to have any.  They're annoying.

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

I've become a bitch at work.  I noticed it yesterday.  I never used to be this way.  Maybe it's time for a change.  I posted my resume on Workopolis.

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

A month tomorrow and I will be in Jamaica.  Coconut rum and jerk chicken will become my daily staple.  Ya mon.  Apparently there's a gym at the resort and I have my excuse all ready: "I'm waaaaaaaaaaaaaaaay too hung over.  Let's go eat."

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

Bitter, bitter cold

It sucks being a smoker.  I remember being in New York this summer, standing outside Laura's apartment in the sweltering heat sucking back my sweet cigarette and just praying for just a breeze of cool air, hell any kind of breeze would have been nice.  It was ridiculously hot.  I never knew such a thing was possible.

The dog came outside with me while I enjoyed the cold Arctic air.  He sat by the door and shivered in this drama-queen sort of way, whining to go back in the house. I'm really not sure why he came outside with me in the first place.  Perhaps he was thinking that there must be some sort of morsel of food but quickly realized that any chance of sniffing something out would be impossible with a frozen nose.  I opened the door and he charged in the house running directly to the vent underneath the computer desk in the back room. 

He loves the heat.  He spends hours under that desk basking in the artificial hot air that blasts from the furnace downstairs.  He's a funny dog that one.  He has the memory of an elephant and the patience of a 2 year old child.  But damn he's cute, if nothing else. 

With some thought...

I've given this some thought.  Maybe I need to think on it a little more.  I dunno.  It was easy to start; I suspect it will be just as easy to delete.  I've always been the naive sort.

I don't know why I think I have anything important to say.  I don't really.  See, the thing is sometimes I just think things.  Like, yesterday when I was leaving the office, the elevator doors opened and there was standing the weird girl who works upstairs.  Every office building has a weird girl.  Well, there she was and I knew I had little choice but to get in. 

She started talking to me, telling me about her elevator adventures like I gave a flying fuck. I pretended to be preoccupied by playing with buttons on my blackberry as though I had something really pressing to take care of (which of course, I didn't), when I suddenly wondered if maybe *I* was the weird one.  You think?  Like, maybe when I'm in the elevator and it stops on the 5th floor and the person standing there thinks "Oh god, it's the weird girl from 7".  Right?  I mean, maybe it's true.

So I thought to myself "I need to blog this out".  And so, here I am.

Specific Nothings about some chick in the Peg.  Just rambles.  Just shit.  Just whatever comes to mind.