Killing the rat

I have discovered why the hair dressing chick straightened my hair yesterday. I washed my hair today and I realized that it has foiled my plans once again. That bit of natural curl I have? Yeah, it's conspiring against me. I have been femulleted!

You can now officially call me Ratty

I went and got my hair cut today, for the first time in months. I was going to include before and after pictures, but it's hard to find pictures of straw on the internet. If you're me, anyways. Now, however, I am sporting the popular "drowned rat" look. The chick straightened my hair after cutting it. She asked me if I'd had it straightened before (I have) and then said "Isn't it nice?" Well, no, not really. I'd call it more a big fat waste of my time. But hey, what do I know about style? So I let her rat me up. It doesn't look too bad, I just look like I was, say, walking through monsoon rains in Malaysia.

UPDATE:
Before:


After:

Oh right, and the rest

Yesterday I went to the farm, my sister-in-law had the immediate extended family (my immediate family, who brought their immediate families) over for the joint birthday of myself and my niece. She turned 3. My little sister had called Courtney on the actual day to wish her happy birthday:
M: Hi Courtney.
C(in a shrill little girl voice): Happy birthday! It's my birthday!
M: Yes.. Happy birthday...

While innocently sitting on the couch, I became a human slide. Courtney and Jaden started sliding down my body, since it was on an angle anyways. Jaden had on wind pants so he could go pretty far, but Courtney was wearing cotton. Three-year-olds don't pick up on subtleties though, so she thought it was great. I've made the amazing discovery that having children jump onto you from a standing position on the couch cushions isn't very comfortable, even if they're scrawny little kids.

All gifty and such

This weekend was our office christmas party at Henry the 2nd. The chinese gift exchange was okay. Some of the gifts were rather putrid. There were a lot of picture frames and candles. Way too many girly gifts. Don't get me wrong, I like candles, but not as gift exchange stuff. And since the majority of the people there were guys, it's not fair if their wives bought two girly gifts. Plus there are so many better things you can get, even for $10. Like the 2 sets of multi-colour shot glasses that went around, or the Corona gift sets, or the (my personal contribution) steel and glass mini spice rack. In my opinion, if you wouldn't want it yourself, don't take it to a gift exchange. Because you could end up taking it home. I think if people bring crappy presents, the person should be stuck in the crappy present sub-set. That way, those of us who bring decent stuff can take home something at approximately the same level as we brought.

I got christmas-y pot holders. I like pot holders as well as the next person, but I'm against christmas crap on general principles. And besides, I already have a set. They were cheap after christmas. Re-gifting.

his lack of logic knows no bounds

You know, it amazes me how a certain person waits till everyone else leaves to bring up the stupidest programming ideas for me to put in place. If you don't have the balls to bring something up when everyone is around, don't bother after they leave. I call it grounds for harassment.

For those of you I work with

Today might be the start of something beautiful.

We can only hope.

Thanks gravity

Heather made a pan of butter tart squares tonight. Actually, she made 2 pans. The first one got too hot when she was putting it in the oven, so she dropped the pan, which immediately spilled all over the oven door. Most of it went directly into the crack. How many people do you know who have picked raisin goop out of their oven crack? So she scooped what was salvageable into a bowl and washed the pan. It would have been wasted, but I pointed out that she could just dump it into a pan and cook it anyways. So tonight I ate oven-flavoured butter tart squares.

Mmm, tastes like crack.

Forwarded email is finally good for something

Things I actually liked in an email forward:
- of course I don't look busy, I did it right the first time
- all stressed out and no one to choke

Gah!

I'm not a big fan of clothing manufacturers who attach buttons in such a way that if you happen to pull on the end of the thread, the entire thread unravels and comes out, causing the button to fall off. Contrary to popular belief, I don't want to have a gaping hole in the chest area of my shirt.

horrified and appalled

Care of Ryan. It's absolutely terrible. If you wouldn't test on your own children, don't test on children who can't speak for themselves. And don't try to get around it by saying that if it's "necessary" they don't need consent at all. That means they can test on anyone at all. Eventually they'll be coming up to you and me...

ALERT: EPA TO ALLOW PESTICIDE TESTING ON ORPHANS & MENTALLY HANDICAPPED CHILDREN
Public comments are now being accepted by the Environmental Protection Agency (EPA) on its newly proposed federal regulation regarding the testing of chemicals and pesticides on human subjects. Earlier this year, Congress had mandated the EPA create a rule that permanently bans chemical testing on pregnant women and children, but the EPA's newly proposed rule actually creates gaping loopholes for the chemical industry. The rule allows for government and industry scientists to treat children as human guinea pigs in chemical experiments in the following situations:

1) Children who "cannot be reasonably consulted," such as those that are mentally handicapped or orphaned newborns may be tested on. With permission from the institution or guardian in charge of the individual, the child may be exposed to chemicals for the sake of research.

2) Parental consent forms are not necessary for testing on children who have been neglected or abused.

3) Chemical studies on any children outside of the U.S. are acceptable.

You can learn more and take action here.

Weekend weekend rah rah rah

I had a busy weekend again. I gotta stop doing that.

Friday night I went bowling with some friends for my birthday. I'm old now. Heather gave me a bunch of kitchen stuff and some of the bestest licorice ever that we ate all the time on our trip to NZ/Australia and couldn't find here till now. So good.

Saturday I had my voice lesson as usual, then went shopping. I hate shopping. I'm an atypical woman. My mom told me she's giving me clothes for christmas though, so I had to put up with it. Sears had a great clearance area so I managed to find a couple sweaters, a pair of dress-ish pants (they're not really dress pants, but they're a step up from jeans), a pair of jeans, and a super-soft fleece shirt thingy. And at least I won't have to do this again for a while. You can dress me up, but you still can't take me out in public.

In the afternoon I went over to Gilly's and we prepped and painted the room for the baby. I think they were getting kind of nervous, since Leanne has been retaining fluid like she did just before Harley popped out, and they still hadn't renovated the room. The paint colour wasn't what any of us were expecting, kind of a brilliant salmon colour. It's kind of a terrible colour to put on walls. But hey, paint is paint, and it's already been installed.

Then yesterday Gil and I went hard on the flooring, and managed to get it all in plus put in the baseboards, so they were really relieved. Harley still prefers his blue car room though. I have to give him credit, it's a pretty good choice.

Something weird, since they were planning on re-doing the paint anyways, Gil let Harley draw on the walls in that room. The most recent paint colour on the walls had been white, with big paintings of Looney Tunes characters at about adult head height. Since the paintings were really bright and there was writing on the walls, we'd put a couple coats of primer/sealer over before painting, then touched up where we could still see anything through. In the end, the pen and marker still showed through even though the black/orange/green paintings didn't. Ghost drawings...

And today I am sore. And tired. I couldn't sleep last night, even though I was so tired. My brain is spiteful.

Glad I could help

Sometimes I get weird wrong numbers at work. Tonight's was even better than the guy from Alabama who was trying to get hold of the Alabama state government and told me that he was charged the incorrect amount on his tax return. I thought it was a joke until he started to give me his social security number.

The one tonight was a chick from the Yukon calling to get help with her T-Mobile cell phone that she bought in Greece but wouldn't work in the Yukon. I don't think she realized she had a wrong number, but we figured out between us that she should call their sales line.

Kind of like finding North America

I've discovered why pumpkin guts were put on this earth: to be gross. That is their sole duty. And they fulfill it quite well.

The pumpkin my parents gave me made about 20 cups of pumpkin puree. Anyone know some good pumpkin recipes? I'd be glad to hear them.

Doing the family thing, or The Longest Post Ever Seen On This Site

I had a Family Stuff weekend. My dad's side was out from Ontario, BC and Alberta to go through my great aunt's estate. A good time was had by all. I see these people so seldom that I forget how fun they are.

I got to tease one of my uncles all weekend. He's a pretty good sport and gives back as good as he gets. At one point I referenced his "gambling problem" in such a serious tone that I think he almost believed me. It's even more funny because everyone in the family is a straight arrow. A bit odd, but they're all good kids. They don't smoke, they're social drinkers (one glass of wine is the limit), so gambling is a bit out of their league. Most of them don't even spend money inordinately on non-gambling related items.

On Saturday afternoon we all met at my great aunt's former condo. I drove my little sister, as we'd been over to grandma's oldies home for lunch previously. The conversation on the way there:
Megan: "Do you know where she lives?"
Me: "Well, she's not anymore. But when she was you'd turn here."

My great aunt was at one time rolling in dough, so she had a really nice condo filled with a bunch of nice stuff. The things up for grabs this weekend were older mismatched kitchen stuff, clothes, linens, and christmas stuff - basically all the things that weren't worth anything. So I scored me some random cutlery, a rolling pin (a good solid one for the beatings, you see), some bowls, a glass measuring thingy, some mildly frightening dress shirts (I'll try to remember to post a picture), and a set of flannel sheets. If I could lose 20 lbs I could have gotten a blue evening gown too, but we all know how likely that is. For a 90-some year-old, my great aunt had some fairly decent clothes. I spruced up my wardrobe but good.

There was lots of food there. My aunt's former housekeeper, a sweet little German lady, brought a plate full of homemade German goodies that I sampled, and my dad's cousin brought a plate full of squares and loaf slices that she'd made as well. After that the group went out for a late supper, where I ate far too much greasy souvlaki, paid for by the estate. These people are completely ruining my evening gown plot.

Yesterday I went out to my parents' place, where my aunt and uncle (the teased one) were staying. I visited with them off and on, did some reorganization of the plethora of crap I'm storing in my parents' barn, and then went to the fall supper in town. All the relatives showed up for that too, since it's the area most of them grew up. After getting nudged out of the hall there, the party moved back out to my parents' place so that everyone could see their "new" house. Five years ago my parents built their retirement house on the same farm that they'd been living on for 27 years, and my brother and his wife moved into their former home. Some of dad's cousins hadn't been down since, so they got the grand tour. Oh, by the way, this retirement home is all in theory. My dad has slowed down some, but he's definitely not "retired", unless by retired you mean he still farms full time. Farmers are like that.

I also got to talk to my aunt, who lives a couple miles from my parents, and who I see once or twice a year. I found out all about their son who's in Japan, and who they're going to visit this year at christmas. I'm jealous. I also got to hear about their older daughter, she's Megan's age, who is going to school in Vancouver, and who I avoid like the plague because she's shrill and annoying and makes me want to strangle her. She means well though, and it's not her fault. As a friend of mine said not too long ago, "I feel sorry for people like that, because it's not like they mean to be annoying." Maybe it's genetic or in the water or something. Although her little sister is decent enough. I don't know, I got nothing.

Anyways, I'm glad we've had this conversation. There was lots more, but I'm sure you've been bored to tears already, so I'll leave you in peace. Tomorrow: the drive back to Regina, with unexpected guests.

Amusings

My little sister's cartoon blog is quite amusing.

p.s. She works in the university library.

I laugh and laugh

(happily stolen from Bad News Hughes)

The Hunky Dory Story

The situation - L and J pass in the hallway.
L: How are things going, are you hunky dory?
J: Well, I've taken a survey, and most people find me more dory than hunky.

I'm getting old

I got my ear pierced last weekend and it hurt to wear glasses and a headset at work. So I thought I'd try putting my contacts in for a change. I know that whenever I tried to wear them at work before, it would usually last a couple hours before I took them out. The controlled environment means they dry out, or I touch them and get a film of grime on the lens, and end up blinking and peering confusedly at anything smaller than a person.

Well, yesterday was different. Everything was all hunky dory (I'll tell the hunky dory story in a minute), I moisturized my eyes frequently, and I could see better than usual.

And then I touched my eye.

This is nothing out of the ordinary. I rub my eyes and stick my fingers in them on a regular basis, contrary to the instructions of my mom and eye doctor. This time, though, I must have been allergic to the hand lotion in the bathroom at work, because now I have infectious goo floating around in them.

The thing that gets me is that I used to wear my contacts all day every day in high school, and never had a problem.

A lot of my stories seem to be about infectious goo. I apologize, but that's the way my life goes. I'm allergic to everything, and I get infected easily. It's amusing in a don't-even-think-about-coming-near-me sort of way.

Keeps me busy

This is one of the funniest blogs I've ever seen. I've been reading it starting at the oldest posts, and trying not to choke from laughing so hard.

I just remembered

When I was at my uncle's 50th last weekend, my niece and I were sitting on their couch. These couches, they're pink and flowery, they used to be my grandma's (yes, this is the grandma of my driving woes story), and they're clean and shiny. My niece, she's generally not so clean and shiny. She's not quite 3, that's how they come.

Once we sat down, Courtney noticed the cheese flavoured nuts and bolts on the coffee table. So she got down and picked out a single cheerio. With this in hand, she climbed back on the couch. When you're 3, couches are a lot harder to climb up on than when you're, say, almost 26. It's pretty much a 2-hand job. (You're sick. Sick.) Holding a cheerio makes it even more difficult. Once she managed to get back up, she ate her hard-won cheerio.

And then climbed back down for another.

This kept going on. One solitary cheerio at a time. It was pretty funny to watch. Not because I like watching grandma's ex-couch get full of greasy cheese crumbs though. Rather the opposite. Courtney has been taught, and taught well, that you don't rub your grubby little cheese hands on couches. So when she climbed up each time, she'd have to use the back of her hands to pull herself onto the couch. Well, the back of her hands and her face. And she didn't get tired of it, or figure out that she could stay on the floor to eat her cheerios. I guess part of the deal is that you had to sit down to eat.

I don't think that will ever get old.

Get ready to hug

Good news everyone, November 7 is Hug A Bear Day! This is exciting news for all those bears out there who haven't been getting their full quota of hugs. So remember, on Monday, if you haven't stopped to hug a bear, you're not doing your duty.

Junk mail is so helpful. I would never have known about this otherwise.

Terrifunny

I saw the funniest, and most frightening, thing last night. On Who's Line Is It Anyway (American version), they had Richard Simmons as guest star. It was hilarious, in a very disturbing sort of way. Richard Simmons is quite the character. Quite the character.

I think my fear of clowns has been supplanted by my fear of Richard Simmons.