- We are both still awake, and there are birds chirping outside and What. The. Fuck.
- Way, way too many skinny, pale, almost-vaguely-ethnic, blonde chicks up in my fashion editorials right now. Diversity, PLEASE.
But what if there are aggressive aliens and they get my name and decide to come after me?!
Published March 30, 2009 | 
http://mars.jpl.nasa.gov/msl/participate/sendyourname/
Click above to send your name on a microchip to Mars. I’m not doing it! I’ll keep my name here on Earth, thanks.
Canadian things that would be better off as American ones
Published February 5, 2009 | I’m American. This gives me an innate sense of superiority over Canadians like my husband. Here are a few things about this country that I can’t get used to and will continue to insist are better the American Way:
5) I went to UNIVERSITY, not COLLEGE.
In the US, at least in my experience, after high school you go to college — whether you went to Connecticut College or the University of Connecticut, you still refer to yourself as being in college. In Canada, it is a point of pride to note whether you went to a college or a university. And heaven forfend you say that a university student is in college… you might as well spit in their beer and call their mama ugly. What the fuck? It’s a post-secondary education, you turds, no one except your fellow Canadians genuinely gives a damn about the word you apply to it.
4) Milk in bags
I know, this is cliché to complain about, but it still drives me nuts. Why does milk need to come in bags? Yes, I understand that it’s more economical. Still, it’s kind of gross. I get to handle what feels like a bladder full of liquid, plop it into a pitcher, and then I have to find something to cut off the corner with so the milk can actually escape. Making this hole just the right size (as well as not slicing your finger if you use a knife to do it) is a precise art that I cannot seem to perfect. That’s why I tend to leave a very small amount of milk in the bag and make Chris open the next one. He has more practice.
3) Again rhymes with “brain”, not “men”
Read that aloud. Uh-GAYN. Doesn’t it sound fucking pretentious? I know they’re speaking the Queen’s English, but Brits also say “vitamin” (the “vit” part rhymes with “zit”) and “zebra” (zehb-ra, not zee-bra) wrong, so I don’t buy the whole “we invented the language so we know best” angle. I wonder how Maia will pronounce this word.
2) DD-MM-YY vs. MM/DD/YY
This is why, on anything Canadian that I can, I write the date like “Feb 5, 2009″. Because if I write or see 05-02-09, I think it’s May 2nd, 2009 and that’s clearly not what I intend to convey. Now, I understand that it makes sense — most specific unit of time to least — but I still have to sit and ponder how I write the date because the American way is so deeply ingrained on my brain. Fortunately, most government papers, which are the only official things I’ve had to fill out, have DD-MM-YY written under the little date boxes so I’m certain to use the ‘correct’ format.
1) ABCD… blah blah… XY and Zed!
So imagine me singing this with my baby: “Q, R, S, T, U V, W, X, Y and Zed… now I know my ABCs”. THAT DOESN’T EVEN RHYME! I feel like this will be a battleground issue in my household, but hopefully I will triumph.
Runners up: What’s a Cheez-It?, It’s Grade One not 1st Grade (hand-in-hand with These Are My Marks, Not My Grades), and The Metric System May Be Logical, But I’m Not.
Fuck You Friday #1
Published January 16, 2009 | In solidarity with Cristin, and because I don’t really do any other memes so why not find one that plays into my innate bitchiness, here is the first (of many?) “Fuck You Friday” posts from me.
Fuck you, Apartment.
Fuck you for being so charming when we first came here.
Fuck you for seducing us with your big, bold balcony and being on the second floor so I know that firemen can rescue me if there’s a problem.
Fuck you for having some douchebag that scrawls “CLEAN UP YOUR DOG SHIT” on the doors to go outside. Who made them the poopie police?
Fuck you for all your issues that give me issues.
Fuck you for the garage construction project that’s been going on since October with no end in site, yet we’re still paying for parking even if our spot isn’t always ours.
Fuck you for the three washers that don’t have a reliable stream of hot water and the fact that sometimes your dryers take money off my card but won’t turn on.
Fuck you for not having any lights by the doors in the back where we take the dogs out. Do you know how many times I’ve fumbled with my keys while trying to open the door?
Furthermore, fuck you for there being no garbage cans outside for me to toss my baggies of dog poo in. Sometimes I throw my poo in the lobby trash can just out of spite because I hope it stinks in the morning when everyone is walking through. I especially hope the poopie police goes through the lobby on those mornings.
Door Closure Test
Published January 7, 2009 | They knocked on my door. I answered.
They stopped the door before I opened it 6 inches, let it close, and said “Thanks, we’re done.”
That was it.
How do I get a job as a door closure testing specialist?
My Master Plan
Published January 2, 2009 | I am hoping, before the baby gets here, to set up this blog on its own domain — then I’ll be able to set up photo albums and videos, along with having way more control over the layout and whatnot. Buying the domain name is cheap, like $3 thru GoDaddy or whatnot, but webspace runs about $50 a year. No big deal, as I have plans to make that money back, but a friend is offering me some of his webspace to get started with. I don’t know if I want to take advantage of that, so I can start working with the design and whatnot and get used to handling all the background stuff that I want to work with, or if I just want to take the plunge and do it on my own, without having him to fall back on. I’m feeling very entrepreneurial and daring lately, and have a few ideas twisting around in my noggin…
So, to anyone else that has set up their own domain — did you just jump into it head-first? Did you learn HTML & other coding as you went along, or did you go into it with a newbie guide at your side? Do you have a friend you call on for technical support, or do you do your best to figure things out first and then call on someone when it’s just too much to do alone?
Inquiring minds want to know!
The Keg
Published January 2, 2009 | So, I’m not a red meat eater, but for Christmas, my brother-in-law got Chris & I a gift card for The Keg Steakhouse & Bar. I’ve eaten there before and quite enjoyed it, and since my birthday is on Monday, I called the restaurant yesterday to make a reservation for Saturday night (Monday we’re going to a home birth class… what a great present).
They don’t accept reservations for Friday and Saturday night. What? I mean, seriously? Those are the nights that restaurants make a ton of cash, so why can’t they accept a reservation? Maybe they lose money by holding tables for people that are late or never show up? I didn’t really ask questions because honestly, we’re going in at around 6pm and I expect most people meet for dinner later than that.
So last night, I have this dream. Chris and I go to the Keg, where we’re seated in a waiting room with four other people, all holding gift cards as well. A waitress comes in and says we will all be seated downstairs, and to please follow her. We follow her down two flights of stairs into a bright white cafeteria packed with boxes and those shitty little folding tables that are in elementary school cafs, lit with florescent lights. I say, “I’m not eating under these florescent lights,” and she replies, “You’re right!”
We keep walking through the cafeteria and when we leave, we’re in a greenhouse, but there are no plants — just dirt. The girl pulls something out of her pocket and a console shoots up out of the ground while gardening hoses spray water all around us. She pushes a button on the console and another passageway appears, which she escorts us down. We walk up one more flight of stairs and she opens the doors with a smile: “You can use your Keg gift cards here.”
We’re in a country line dancing club. It’s full of old people dancing around and for some reason, there’s a bowling ball alley here too. These people are really bad at bowling, so the balls are just randomly sliding across the floor and it’s like playing Frogger or something. I turn to tell the woman, “I’m not eating here,” but she has already slipped back through the doors behind us and locked them.
Well, we are pissed, and when we look outside we realize we’re at least five kilometres away from The Keg, and for some god-forsaken reason our puppies are in the car in the parking lot there. So we wait at the doors for the waitress to escort the next group of gift card wielders into the line dancing club, and demand to be returned to the restaurant. She agrees to bring us there. Then when we reach the greenhouse again, the garden hoses shoot up out of the ground and spray us in our faces.
Then I woke up, furious.
I think I have some sort of deep-rooted psychological issue with the fact that they rejected our reservation.
New Year’s Resolution
Published January 1, 2009 | Same as last year:
Procrastinate less.
I figure I’ll end up taking it seriously sometime around, oh… August. Maybe.
A Late Night Thought…
Published December 14, 2008 | I’ve probably mentioned this before, but I’ll write it again: I love these quiet nights where I rest my hand on my belly and feel my baby girl moving. I read and relax, she squiggles and stretches… and I know there will be rare moments like this after she gets here too, where I can just curl up with her, the dogs, a book, some sort of drink with a really long straw, and enjoy being together.
Speaking of Facebook…
Published November 30, 2008 | Does anyone else get a disturbing number of Lebanese or otherwise Middle Eastern men randomly asking to be their friend? Here’s the gem I woke up to today (click for a larger image if it’s too hard to read):
I haven’t ignored him or replied yet… I thought maybe someone here would have a super witty reply that I’d regret missing out on!
Shower Thoughts
Published November 25, 2008 | Does the water beating down on my belly sound like a drum to Maia?
Also, I love my Dove waterlily-mint body wash. And it makes my skin all tingly, which is interesting.
I feel far more confident, comfortable, and attractive when I’m nude than I do while wearing clothing.
Except for when I have to step out of the bathtub, which is a proposition entirely lacking in grace.
And why do I have an intense craving for oatmeal cookies as soon as I sit down to type this post?