This is for the gal who lives upstairs...

You are nuckin' futs. Honestly.
Who wants to talk about condo politics at 11.15 at night?
And stop knocking on my door like the roof, the roof, the roof is on fire.
My heart can't handle that shit.

And when I tell you that I don't agree with your little friend's "political" agenda, don't ask me who I voted for at the condo meeting. That's just tacky.
Dumbass.
Oh, and while I'm at it, get rid of your dog, it's driving me crazy.
Stop ignoring the poor mutt and I'm sure he'll stop trying to claw his way through the floor into my warm, loving home.

Remember the school girl in "Kill Bill"? That's what this gal looks like. But crazier. Much crazier.

Nothing but fun for the whole family.

.

American Idol

So last night I was watching the train wreck that is American Idol when one of the gals asked:
"Okay, so if you were on the show, what would your song be?"

And being the fancy pants we are, we all stated that we wouldn't be on Idol cause we still have our dignity.
But it turns out that if you press me enough, I will infact, on the spot not only tell you the song, but sing it to you.

Yes, folks. If I was a "contestant", my song would be "Loving you" by Minnie Ripperton.
Complete with that crazy ass high note.
It doesn't get any funnier than that.
I think I'd win with that song.

A Quick One...

Yes. I live.
Happy 2005, yo.

I am so very tired.
Too tired, really.
Big changes are afoot.

It's all rather exciting.
And terrifying.
All at the same time.

A real update to follow soon.
I promise.

Things I have learned today...

...after ingesting two bottles of white wine with my best friend Al:

1. my typing ain't that bad when drukn
2. house hunting is much more fun this way
3. bronchitis can be cured by drinking white wine. Honest.
4. holy shit! I have bronchitis! 3 days before Christmas!
5. I'm scared to call my non-drinking girlfriend. Wait, what do you mean I just left her a message?!?!?!?!?
6. it's only DAYS to Christmas
7. TV is still shitty when you're drunk, in fact it's WORSE
9. counting is for wussies
10. when your friends come home from being out of the country for almost a year, your conversations pick up exactly where you left 'em.
11. cats hate being petted by drunk people.
12. I still have to work tomorrow
13. it's been a very stressful lead up to the holidays
14. I'm madly in love. Madly, I tells ya!
15. I need to drink more. Much more. More often.
16. I'm in charge of organizing the new year's gathering. Brain, Zoe, we're going to Andy Pool Hall. Want a ticket? It's only 10 bucks in advance.
17. there's a fuck load of snow out there.
18. lists are fun
19. so are free bottles of wine. Yay Christmas!
20. white wine and bronchitis. The new duo of 2004.

Ouch

It took me almost 2 hours to get out of bed this morning.
Why?
I'd say it was cause I'm lazy (well, I am...), but it's cause I had the worst back spasm EVER.

It was so sudden and crazy painful that all the gal could do was giggle.
Yeah, it was awesome.
She got me a handful of Robaxacet (the best stuff EVAH) and got me to relax.

So now I'm drugged up better than Whitney Houston (remember, crack is WHACK) and only in a bit of pain. Wooot.

Man, I can't wait until my "golden" years.
I am so screwed.

Nothing but a Quickie

Yeah, I'm supposed to be on my way RIGHT NOW to Weasel Central. I'm working on it.
Honest.

But before I run outta here, I have a question for all y'all....where's the best place/charity/whatever to drop off books, dishes, clothes, cats. Nah, just kiddin' about the last one there.
But really.

Name a good Toronto based place (I'm not mailing/driving more than an hour to drop stuff off) to donate all my stuff to.

Suggestions would be much appreciated.
Besides, it's the Christmas season, everyone should be donating something at this time of year.
And if you don't, well shit, start this year.

an open letter to the universe

Dear Universe,

I know we haven't spoken in awhile, what with you constantly letting me down and all. But I'm all ready to make amends. Are you? I need one little favour. A tiny one, really. I need to get that sweet ass new position that doesn't even exist yet. You know the one, don't play coy. Just make sure that my name is on the tip of everyone's tongue. I'm the gal they know they need.

Make it happen.

Otherwise our relationship might truly be over.

Love and hugs,
R

Tuesday's Thought...

Some days you just gotta sit and laugh your ass off at stupid shit like this:

http://www.filmbuffs.net/bananana

Yup...

...I'm still here.
Still alive and kickin'.
Kickin' a little harder these days.

Tired of bitching and snorting about things I have the power to change.
I'm working on making changes to how I spend 8 hours of my day.
We'll see what happens. And how soon it happens.

Until then, it's bidnezz as usual.

Even Better...

...cause today is our ONE YEAR anniversary!!!
I'm so squealy excited.
I'm such a little kid that way.
Yay!

I okay now...

...Honest.

I think I am overworked.
Wait.
I know I am overworked.
And PMS'ing.
So my body decided to let some tears flow.
And flow, and flow and flow.

The boss (who is AWESOME) was totally supportive.
And totally let me sniffle.
Then made me laugh.

The gal (who is AWESOME) said calming things over the phone.
And then surprised me by showing up at my home.
And let me be silent, snarky, sucky & funny.
Almost all at the same time.

Yes folks. I'm back to being me.
And after all of that, I could use a beer.
Or some of those McDonald's chicken strip thingys.
They're like crack.

I've just got something in my eye...

Today was one of those days.

My boss pulled me into one of the side rooms to have a chat & what do I do?
I start crying like my life depends on it. Yuppers. Total waterworks.
No real reason, other than I'm feeling REALLY emotional today.

I rock the casbah.

I was blubbering & tearing up looking at the pea soup green walls.
I was getting teary eyed looking at the half empty vending machine.
I kept saying that nothing was wrong (professionally or personally) and that all I needed was a really good cry.

Gawd I LOVE my PMS. It's the freakin' best.
I wish that every day could be this much fun.
Please, just shoot me.

It's alive!!!

Hi.

I'm still here. Honest.

• Up to my eyeballs in Weasel Central worshops/projects/bullshit.
  
• Working on what to buy the gal for our impending one year anniversary.
  
• trying to get some rowing in before the first frost
  
• Working on printing up AWESOME wedding photos (yes, Zoe is right...hire me to take your wedding pics...I am THAT good).
  
• trying to get sleep/proper nutrition
  
• attempting to keep from going crazy (dunno if that's really working right about now)
  

I'll write more soon. I promise.
I miss you internet!
*sigh*

Talk about being lazy

Hola!

Yup, I'm still around. And trying to be lazy. And almost succeeding. Almost.
Managed to stay nice and busy lately. Thank gawd for the upcoming long weekend!

My friends are gettin' hitched this weekend (Yay Zoe and Jef!!!!) and I managed to get the title of "Wedding Photographer". Really, I think this means that they'll be picking my drunken shots over everyone else's drunken shots. Heh. Kidding, guys, kidding. I'll take some purdy pictures, honest.

Life at Weasel Central is actually bearable. Change is in the air and so far it doesn't smell like cow shit.
I'll keep you posted.
Oh, and to the horrible recruiter who talked down to me before my phone interview...I blew it just for you. Fuckwad.

Gearing up for my one year anniversary with the gal. Hard to believe that one person could handle me for that long. Well, at least without some kind of medication. Buah ha ha.

Right. Gotta get out of my PJs and amble off to work.
So for those wondering where I disappeared to, I was here all the time, hidin' behind the cats.

A billion years later...

...I decide to post something.

I've been that relaxed, yo.

A whole week at the cottage with the one I love the most.
Watching the herons, turtles and fish. Enjoying the silence. The laughter. The snap of the fire.
The night train that lit the trees up in a way I thought was only possible in movies.
No fights, no awkward silences. Just pure enjoyment.
Good weather, a row boat and some black and white film.

I'm still riding that high.

Went for my month check up and got the all clear. Also turns out that medically, yup, I'm a freak. My doctor told me that by now I'm supposed to be dragging my ass around, barely able to stay awake. I didn't understand why, I'm on great little pills. Turns out the pills are minor doses. So in otherwords, even without a thyroid I'm a fuckin' hyper monkey. Yee haw!!!
I'm finally on the real stuff (thyroid replacement) so we'll see how my body deals with the good shit.

Cross your fingers!

The shortest, happiest post ever...

It's official!
I'm cancer free!

Thank you.

I stand corrected

They were stitches. Plain old run of the mill, nylon stitches.
No staples for this monkey.
Poop.

Booooooooooring

Yup. I'm still alive. Yee haw! The surgery went well, but now I'm bored outta my tree. I've been home since Sunday and bored since Monday. It rocks.

But I can't really complain. I always forget how heartbreaking it is inside a hospital. I was rooming with this young gal who couldn't have been more than 18. I think she was in for a miscarriage. And at one point she was on the phone trying to convince her wad of a boyfriend to come and visit. You could hear the anguish in her voice as she was speaking to him in a mix of English and Spanish. I eventually left the room cause it was just so painful to hear.

So I'm off for a couple of weeks and my main objective during this time is to not go crazy. It's gonna be harder than I thought. Hoo boy.

Maybe I'll manage to scan my staples for y'all. Buah ha ha. Staples! In my throat! Wooo!!!!

Um, yeah. Thanks for all your well wishes. Now send candy.

Under the knife...

...in two days. Woo hoo.

Soon I will be lazing around the house going mental. Can't wait.
If I'm not lying around on the sofa playing video games, I'll be staring at my STAPLES in my throat. Yeah, I'm excited.

Ah, the joys of surgery.

But at least I'll be away from Weasel Central for WEEKS! I can forget that I have a job & still mysteriously get paid. I can lie about in scandalous PJs and not worry about breaking the archaic dress code.
I won't have helper monkeys asking me the same question a billion times. I don't have to be polite to anyone (except my gal and the cats). I don't have to answer the phone or return "urgent" emails. Oh my gawd, I'm so excited I could pee!

Hopefully I'll be able to sleep. This insomnia thing is starting to get old. I'm starting to get little kid cranky.

Pray for Mojo.

Rambling monkey...

Today I wrote an email to some of my head honchos at Weasel Central.

Nothing big really.

I just admitted, in writing, that I was manhandling (I kept wanting to type "molesting", but that sounded so, y'know, WRONG) a case in the worst way EVER. A case that these head honcho goons kept dumping on my desk every time I tried to escalate to them. Y'know, that kinda mishandling that only happens in sitcoms ("hey, I wonder what happens if I push the RED button"). I basically told them that if I continued calling this poor, angry man on behalf of the company I was pretty sure he'd either a)sue us; b)show up with his "little friend" (said a la Pacino in Scarface) or c)spit moth balls (I dunno, I needed a third thing, I'm tired, leave me alone).

I suspect they'll tell me to call him again and just apologize for my stupidity and offer him a Weasel Central pen. Heh.

Dummies.

In other news, I got to hear a code fucking red at the hospital this morning. It was weird, cause the doctor dealing with me kept talking like NOTHING was going on. Those piercing alarms? Nothing at all. The slightly panicked sounding announcement? Fuggedaboutit. He kept making rather nonchalant banter and all the while I'm trying to remember where all the bloody emergency exits are, so I'm not really listening to him & probably told him that I'm really a rhesus monkey, and that no, I do not enjoy Proust, but who knows.

I could be wrong.

And sleep deprived.

Horribly, horribly sleep deprived.

Oh, and addicted to that bloody PS2 soccer game. I've almost mastered it. Though I must protest that Luis Figo is not in it. *sigh*

Right. That post went terribly wrong. I'm sorry. So very sorry. Next post I'll leave to the cats. I'm sure they'll come up with something a little more coherent.

Oh Ma Goodnezz Gracious

Yeah, I'm still alive. Stunned, but still alive.
Turns out that the surgery I wasn't expecting to have until later in July has moved forth a wee bit. By 3 weeks. Yikes! I'll be going under ze knife in early July.

Now, before everyone freaks out (can't handle any "OHMIGAWD are you OKAY?!?!"s anymore), there are some positives. Since I freakin' love lists, allow me to list the reasons getting my throat cut open isn't such a bad thing....

* I get to sleep in for over 2 weeks
* krap daytime teevee
* The new PS2 games I picked up last night (woo hoo! Lookit me! I'm David Beckham!)
* quality time with the cats (ha)
* sleep, and lots of it
* I can surf the internet in my pjs
* I'll be the envy of all wanna be gangstas. Or something.

Okay. Gotta go and do something work related.

Still alive...

...And still feeling lazy as all fuck.

Finally getting back into rowing. But I must admit, getting up at 5 am is a lot harder than it used to be. Ah, the joys of getting older. I'm ready for my nap now.

Don't really have that much in the way of updates.
Still at Weasel Central. Boo.
Still with the gal. Yay.

Yeah. That's about it. For now, anyways.
I've gotta go and figure out how to sneak out of the office an hour early to go and sit in the sun and drink beer.
Wish me luck!

Moo Cow Moo!

Dudes, I am living an exciting life these days. Fo' sho'. You'd all be dead jealous if you were livin' in my shoes.

I've come to realise that I don't actually have to lose 10 pounds. Nope.
It's actually 20.
Whooot!

Oh well. At least my relationship is still going boffo. The gal has announced that she, too, has to shed some weight. Starting yesterday, I began cooking again. Turns out that over the last 2 months we've been poster kids for eating out. How did that happen? I can't stand a joint where I have to sit at an actual table and act like a grown up.

Laziness is an crazy, crazy thing.
So is my inability to get out of bed and go rowing.

Someone send motivation, STAT!

Way too obvious

Right.

So I just completed the online Weasel Central employee survey. I just realised that it is entirely possible for the powers that be to figure out that I was the gal with the unhappy answers. Yeah. I'm the only goofball in this position under that specific person (question 320), so I don't think it would take a genius to figure me out. Crud.

Other than that the entire office floor smells of varnish. And not the nail varnish variety for you Brits out there. I'm talking the kick ass, strip the skin off ya varnish. A very sexxy smell at 7.45 in the ayem. Poop.

I think Weasel Central is literally trying to kill me off. Crazy.

Crunchy Headache Fun

Why does the weather have to suck ass when you have time off?!!?!?!?
I think there's been like 5 hours of good weather since Friday. Give or take, really.

There's something about this weather that just makes me crazy. And cranky. Been having some deep convos with the gal again. Maybe that's why my head is hurting. Too much thinkin', y'know. Must think less. Yeah, that's the ticket. Either that or it's the damp weather.

Should be cleaning the homestead, but the computer looked lonely, so I've been geeking out and surfing instead. I feel a small shred of shame, but I'm working on ignoring it. Some days you just gotta act like an irresponsible 12 year old. Today would be that day. I managed to weasel out of most of my plans and head home to chill out with the cats and relax. So far so effin' good. Yee haw.

Right. Gotta go and lie on the sofa and watch cartoons. It's really the only way to enjoy a shitty weather day, folks. Trust me on that one. You'll thank me later.

House Keepin' 101

So I've started changing a few things here and there. It's still growing on me (like fungus). Trying to figure out how to add things and how to bring back the old, yet make it look new and shiny.

Be patient, my little helper monkeys, it'll soon turn into something. I just have no idea what that will be.
Buah ha ha.

Erm, yeah. Sleep deprivation reigns supreme once again.

The new black...

*Is being too effin' lazy to make a real dinner...and taking the "effort" to make boxed scallop potatoes. And nothing else.

*Is knowing that you'll be rocking a thyroidectomy scar during the summer. And fall. And winter. And shit, the rest of your life.

*Is knowing that you just need to lose 8 more pounds and not caring one iota, really.

*Is thinking that relaxation includes vacuuming the ENTIRE apartment in five minutes flat.

*Is loving your erg enough to ignore it for weeks on end

*Is rocking nice legs & arms. And a slight beer belly.

*Is reading Mrs. Kimble by Jennifer Haigh and telling everyone about it.

*Is still being madly in love and knowing that you're gonna be that way for a looooooooong time to come.

*Is sporting grungy rock star hair during an interview for a helper monkey and not caring.

*Is saying "dude" during that same interview. And then wondering, did I just say "dude"? Nah, couldn't have been me.

*Is dodging a real post and doing bullet points.

*Is admitting that you're addicted to bullet point blog entries.

Obscure By the Numbers...by Ren

Gotta love hospitals.

I got to wait over 1 hour for a 15 minute appointment.
In that time I found out I will have to accept 1 little pill into my life.
Forever.
I then found out I have to wait 3 months.
After 3 months I will be given 2 weeks notice for something that will take 2 days.
Afterwards, I will get to chill out for 1 week.

Glad I can only do all of that once.

But a Few Updates.

*I'm still cracking up over the fact that the Prez of Weasel Central grunted at me

*The girl is still trying to quit smoking. I stopped being supportive 2 days ago

*Lady Luck is a flirtatious beeyatch who can't make up her mind. We are no longer on speaking terms. But her brother, Dumb Fuck, keeps calling.

*I should never be placed in charge of vacation plans. I'll be amazed if I get it all together in time.

*Being a GawdMudder rocks out.

*My rowing season starts in two weeks and I'm still doing my Shamu imitation

*I'm still crazy in love (though 10 minutes ago, it was a tough call)

*Cell phones bounce wonderfully when tossed out of boredom

*Motivation is not my friend these days. Especially when it comes to the erg.

*my hotmail account just committed Hari Kari.

*I'm going for a lie down.

The hi-light of my week. By Ren

The president of Weasel Central grunted at me.
For real. Without a tinge of irony.

Now I know I am truly loved.

Elsewhere.

A new level of hell

Today Weasel Central completes the move from the 4th ring of hell over to the 7th.
Yee haw.
Though really I'm not complaining. The new HQ is close enough that I can leave the car at home and take the subway, yet far enough away that I won't be the one they call in case of an "emergency".
Double yee haw.

I don't think I've mentioned it lately, but I am so in love.
And rocking a massive headache.
I think those two are independent of one another, as my gal is not in the general vicinity of the building (Boo. No yay).

So I'm all gung ho on buying a house again (Zoe, I blame you). It's so funny how I get obsessed with certain things (monkeys, cars, Kirk Cameron) for a brief period of time and then, boom, I'm off onto the newest focus.
But the house. Oh how I want a house! The only problem right now is where? I refuse to live in the 'burbs. Especially since I know I would go bat shit crazy and end up being moved out by my neighbours. Can't live in the 'hood either (though really, what constitutes the "hood" these days), cause I'm a wussy & I'd get massive beat downs all the time. I kinda want to live downtown-ish, but not quite cause the gal refuses to drive downtown at any time. Oh the decisions! Don't even get me started on the style of the house!

Right. Gotta go and have some lunch. Mmmm matzo ball soup. Yay Passover!
Mazel Tov, yo.

It's a girl!

Aww yeah...who's your fairy godmother?
Damn right.

Dudes, I'm gonna be a Godmother in like the next 24 hours!!!!

Oh the laziness

I'd say I was back, but honestly, I never went anywhere. Been sittin' here forever and a day. Well, not quite, but that's sure how it feels. Weasel Central has a new location. What does that mean? Means I have 4 days to throw out 3 years of my crap. Yee haw.

Man, the things we hoard. It's fuckin' nasty, dude.
Every cabinet in my department held useless shit from as far back as the mid-90's. Some of those binders were older than me. Or at least they smelled that way. Ick.

Sittin' here thinking about my summer vacation. Gonna go away with the gal. Woo hoo! Searching for a cheap cottage to rent. Well, cheap but not too cheap. Y'know, just decent. And far enough away that the Weasel Central helper monkeys won't be able to reach me.

Does anyone know what happened to Styrofoam Kitty? I went to check out her blog, and it was gone!!!! I had no option but to do some paperwork after that.

Oh before I forget...an aside to Scotty: Yeah, I work in a call centre and that is the sole reason that I never answer my phone. Why? Cause I'm always on it!

Right. Off to torture the helper monkeys.
Word.

By the numbers: Revisited

20 days later.

1 doctor

2 visitors

10 minutes

1 awesome outcome

1 relieved girlfriend

10s of relieved friends.

1 exhausted, but thankful Ren

Thanks to everyone who emailed/texted/phoned/cried with me. It was all very welcomed.

I've got the sniffles again. But that's okay. Why?
Cause Lady Luck is talking to me again.
I need everyone to think crazy positive thoughts until early next week.
Full details to follow....

Kirk fixed my font! Kirk fixed my font!
I lurve Kirk!

Aiiiiiiiiight. No more birthday bitching. It's boring. Hell, it's not a milestone year (next year is the big 3-0), so really, who cares? Bah.

Though my manager was absolutely hilarious this morning. He's standing at my desk & spies a birthday card. Looking all proud of himself he turns to me and says "hey, happy birthday". To which I dryly reply "thanks, it was yesterday. And it SUCKED". He starts laughing, reaches into his pocket and (I shit you not) hands me a shiny quarter. I thought I was gonna pee myself laughing. Yes, I took the quarter.

Had a nice romantic dinner with the gal last night. Went to Butt'r and it rocked out. Thanks for the suggestion, Kirk!

Still waiting for lady luck to call back. She's supposed to ring soon. Keep your fingers crossed. If it all works out, life is gonna be AWESOME. If it doesn't work out, I'm just gonna cry. Or something like that.

Poop

Uh huh. I think I need to change my birthday to a different day. No one seems to remember that it's today. My dad and my sister thought it was yesterday & as of right now, the helper monkeys barely knew it was today.

Though my mum & gram sent me rockin' flowers to the office. Yee haw! Oh, and the gal is taking me somewheres fancy for dinner.

All I want for my birthday is a nap. And my own private island.

Okay. Now how do I make the font all purdy like?
I can't remember....Grrrrrr.

And I keep sneezing all over my keyboard.
Dammit.

Welcome to my Thursday.
And for those wondering, Lady Luck is nowhere to be seen. I think she's taking a nap.
But keep your fingers crossed, cause this week ain't over yet!

I'm currently having major technical problems.
I swear I'll slack all day today to ensure it's fixed.
That's the last time I let the cats play with my blog.
Shit.

I need all y'all to cross your fingers for me this week.
Lady Luck has just flashed me her tits. I'm feeling the luck, yo.

In the meantime, go check out Foamy.

I'll be back.
Hopefully with kick ass news.

All by the numbers

5 minutes waiting

15 minutes of ultrasounds

6 needles in 10 minutes
1 tense Ren

2 days in bed
1 very sore throat

20 days until the results are known.

Poop

It's one of those weeks. I'm bummed out. Horribly bummed out. All I wanna do is have some fun hide away and watch bad television. I wanna lie in bed and cry until I can't cry no more. But I keep comin' back to Weasel Central instead. Dammit.

Now I know it sounds so very dramatic and whatnot, but really, it's just about my Monday appointment. I'm finding it almost impossible to psyche myself up for it. Honestly, I've already been through it once. I know it's gonna hurt like a mutha fuckah on fire. But I'm nervous all over again. I can't sleep, I'm more emotional than a pregnant lady (trust me, they're crazy), I've got massive headaches and gawd dammit, if I don't stop grazing I'm going to turn into a fucking cow. Oh the joys of stress.

Yee haw.
I'll be better by next Tuesday, so I think I'm gonna stop posting until then. No one needs to hear me whine (other than the gal...heh). I'll give all y'all the update next week.

Heh. Ooops

I kinda showed the gal the blog today (she caught me reading Styrofoamkitty at my desk). Thankfully, I am not dating a computer geek (that's my title), so I'm not really worried about her checking it out all that often...also, it's not like I really talk about her all that much. Right?

Though I suspect she will want to sit down and read through it one day. Unless I distract her. Yeah, that's the ticket.

Gonna go and buy some fire crackers now.

More fun with pretty stars

*my eyes are on FIRE.

*my home looks like it's been bombed. The joys of impulsively buying new furniture from IKEA and not having enough time to put it all together and get the old shit crud stuff out.

*even though I slept like a baby (with the gal at my side), I'm still effin' exhausted. I blame Weasel Central.

*I need to use my erg more

*I need to move my erg out of the living room. I'm constantly tripping on it.

*The cats enjoy the erg more than I do. Yes, the honeymoon is over. It's down to the nitty gritty workouts now.

*I cancelled my gym memebership last week. I feel like I've won the lotto.

*I wrote a really snarky letter in order to cancel my gym membership. I feel like I won Miss USA.

*got another appointment for the fun wow needle torture. March 1st is approaching a bit too fast for my liking

*I just found out that I am the last one to find out what my motherfuckin' minions are up to

*and when I question why I am the last one to find out what my motherfuckin' minions are up to, people act all surprised that I need to know. Uh huh.

*yes, I need to find a new job. AGAIN.

S'all good.
And I'm still in love.
With the gal.
And the Spawn of Satan.

Happy Friday the 13th, y'all. It rocks harder than Valentine's Day.

Sigh

Right.

Had a bit of a tiff with the gal today. The first really good one since we started dating. All followed by hours of chatting about "us" and what we're gonna do in the future and other fun stuff.

What did I learn from all this?
I am madly in love.
Funny, isn't it?

Now I have to wait hours to tell her that.
Yay me.
Poop.

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go and spend some quality time with my erg.

Love is in the erg

Ladies and gentlemen, allow me to introduce you to the new love of my life.
We'll call him Spawn of Satan for now.

That's what the cats are calling it.
Especially when I'm ridin' it.
Buah ha ha.

My gal's already jealous.
Methinks they might duke it out for my affections.

Aiiiiight.
Enough of my bitching and wallowing.
Go to Brain's site and read the most beautiful and moving piece ever written. Honestly.

Woo

Yup. I live. I know, that was the most exciting statement I've made since, well, January 29th.

I haven't really had anything to say in over a week. Heck, I don't think I've really got much to say now.

Still fighting to get another appointment made. Man, customer service sucks ass in Canada. Whoever said Canadians were friendly never spoke to a lab technician. Ouch. They're super mean. Really. This lady was ruder than me to me and I didn't know what to say to her. Well, other than "um, thanks. Have a great day." Yee haw.

Oh yeah. And I went away with the gal last weekend. It was absolutely AMAZING! Time out of the city is great on its own, but with someone you're crazy about? Fan-fuckin-tastic. Awww yeah.

Right. Gonna go and find a tattoo design. Brain, get ready, we're getting inked this spring!

Ah, those test results....

....told me shit.

I've got to have the whole process done over again. Yay me!
But the good news was that the few samples they did manage to pull were nice and clean.

Gotta look at the positive, right?

danger, danger, high voltage!

We had a fire drill today.

Now normally, I'm all excited at the thought of getting out of the office for a bit, but not today. Nope. Why? Cause it's snowy and fuckin' miserable out. Yeah. I even busted out the cell phone, huddled in a warm corner and made some business calls. I never do shit like that. But the radiation from my cellie kept my brain kinda warm.

So now I'm back in the building and warm. Nice and toasty. And very thankful I brought my new cardigan along with me. Yay! And I've got a "business" lunch in 10 minutes with a co-worker that I adore and respect. Yee haw!
This day is the bestest!
Probably because tomorrow will suck donkey dick. That's right. Tomorrow is the day I get my test results.

Poop.

Now before you go and say that it's all gonna be okay, keep this in mind...I have been freaking out on and off for 2 months over this whole thing. I will cry regardless of what the results are, because in my mind, 2 months of not knowing are coming to a possibly glorious end. It's kinda crazy fucked up insane.

Right. I'm gonna go and do something or other and then wander off for an extended lunch. Yay me!

And when my back hurts, I always think of this quote:

"I'd do it, but I threw out my back humpin' your mom. Snootch."

Yeah. I'm mature, I know.

I'm no air Jordan

Yeah, so last night I played my first game of basketball in too long. I also had my first hour long hot bath in a long time. Dudes, I hurt. I am no longer the lean, mean, fighting machine I used to be. Now, I am a sluggish, somewhat asthmatic, still mean, fighting machine. Dang. Who knew playing half court would be so killer? All that running back and forth. All that jumping around. All that sweating.

Yes, I will be going back next Tuesday for I am hooked.

Oy, my back.

This post brought to you by the word "fuck"

Must toss piece of shit Weasel Central out the motherfucking window of Weasel Central. Now.

I've been working on the same mofo report for the last fucking hour. And in the last fucking hour I have had to restart that report at least 6 times. Couldn't save it, either, so I've had to start from scratch each time. Why? Because my fuckin' ghetto shit computer doesn't have enough memory. Dude, I have TWO applications open and you're already out of virtual memory?!?!?!?

Fuck.

Yup. I'm alive. Very uncomfortable, but alive.

2 ultrasounds.

7 needles (instead of 8, aren't I the lucky one?).

10 minutes.

1 relieved Ren.

1 quiet evening with the gal.

Ta da. Today is gonna be a quiet day. I've already told my manager (yes, I'm chilling out at Weasel Central again) that I'm just gonna sit at my desk and be cranky all day. He seemed cool with that. Not that he had a choice.

The doctor said it's gonna hurt to do the following today:
-laugh
-cough
-yawn
and my personal favourite.....swallow.

Um, yeah.

I think my eyes are bleeding cause I'm that effin' tired.

I stopped freaking out around 2.30 this morning.
And then I had the uncomfortable sleep of the dead. Yay me!

Yeah, I'm here at Weasel Central "chilling out". That is if sitting stiffly in a crappy office chair constitues chilling out.

At 2.00 this afternoon, I will calmly get up and walk out of the office & down to the underground, where I will nestle into my gal's car and try to think happy thoughts until I get to the hospital. Once there, I will crack completely crude and inappropriate jokes and no one will chide me for being an insensitive arsehole. That will be my favourite part of the day. Then I'll go and let some techie guy do an ultrasound and stick a needle in my throat. Then I'll go home and nestle into my sofa with my gal and ignore the outside world. And tomorrow, I will wake up, thank the Universe for not killing me off (Ha nice try, you fuckwads!) and head back to Weasel Central to spread my kind of joy. Sounds like a plan.

I promise that those truly in the know will be called/emailed/texted poste haste. Thanks to all y'all out there for your supportive comments & emails. I love you fuckers.

Uh huh

Today is one of those days. I had a crud sleep, mainly cause my stress level is elevating rapidly and I'm kinda cranky (though how that differs from regular days, I'll never know). Tomorrow is the day. I'm not looking forward to it. But you already knew that.

In other news: the gal is in a good mood. And I'm fuckin' stylin'. Awww yeah. Compliments a go-go. But I think it's cause I'm wearing a total hooch shirt. The buttons keep popping and I keep showing off my personality. Dammit. The helper monkeys ("Minion" is so 2003) keep staring at my cleavage. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Oh who am I kidding? I freakin' love it.

Wow. My productivity is at an all time low. I just took an office chair for a walk. Methinks it's time to start thinking about going home. Yes indeedy do.

I was gonna post a complaint to the Universe, but I feel that it's a tad overdone. I'm going to make this the year I ignore the Universe. Cause maybe then my luck might turn around. Just maybe.

Other than that, um, yeah. I got up early and went to the gym. Along with all of those "I will go back to the gym in 2004" people. Y'know, the ones who hog all your favourite machines. Yeah. Them.

My gal's rocking the PMS today. And she's kinda weepy meaner than a bucking bronco. Which means I have to stay away from her unless I want her reduced to tears to rip my fucking face off and eat it for lunch in the office. *sigh*

Only 2 more days until I get ye olde needle in ye olde throat. I'm still not calm about this. In the least. So in the meantime, I'm keeping myself somewhat distracted by picking on the Weasel Central minions. And a few Weasel Central supervisors. Nothing brings a smile to my face like tearing a strip offa someone. Yee haw.

This month's motto?
January 2004....the year Ren got leaner and meaner.
Buah ha ha.

Return of the insanity

Howdy, and hope y'all had a rockin' New Years.

Yeah, I'm still around. Managed to chill out with friends, family & other loved ones all of last week. It was beautiful. There's nothing like ringing in the new year with some of those nearest and dearest to you.

Slept in for days. Wandered around the city, fed a Von Trapp family size of cats (mine included). Basically enjoyed shit.

Hung out with the gal for days and taught her how to play video games while I learned how to relax.

Of course, as of this morning, the relaxation is totally gone.
Got a call this morning from the hospital. Found out that I can get a much earlier appointment for some pretty big tests. Yeah. Went from having an appointment for the 26th of January to having an appointment for this fucking Thursday. Uh huh. I'm happy that it's earlier, but I'm also shitting myself. It was one thing when I didn't really have to worry about anything for the longest while. Now it's here. Dang. How do you sike yourself up to get a needle in the throat? Anyone?

Thankfully I've got a kick ass group of friends who are incredibly supportive over this whole thing.

As for the Universe, thanks, I think. Though I must admit that I'm still a wee bit peeved with the Universe for getting me in this predicament in the first place.

I honestly know I'll be okay, but in the meantime, I'm just gonna sit over here and freak the fuck out.

I am the master of productivity

Yeah. Right.
Had the laziest Christmas holiday time. Evah. It was beautiful. Seems the laziness is still hanging around in bits and pieces.

Managed to motivate my lazy ass outta bed and off to the gym. Too bad it made me totally late for work. But eh, who cares.

Then I rolled into the office (breaking the dress code once again) and sat around for a bit, created a few pretty reports and then got down to the important business of slacking.

In the time I've been here (somewheres around 9.40) I've done the following:

* read a bunch of blogs
*surfed the net for information on laser hair removal (don't ask...it's not for me)
*made a pretty report (actually work related!)
*wandered around the department a few times
*ate waaaaaaay too much chocolate
*sent an email to HR basically admitting that I'm a fucking slacker and could I please get another extension on something that was due well over a week ago?
*had my sniveling email ignored by HR
*cursed HR to burn in hell
*dissed our marketing team at least 20 times
*wished I could be a marketing goon. Cause really, where else could you come up with an idea that negatively impacts over 100 employees but looks great on paper and at the end of the project you get a bonus cause hey, you moved a million new policies?

Hope y'all had a great Christmas/Hanukah/Kwaanza/Booze fest.
I think I'm gonna go for another wander round the building.
Damn, I love this time of year!

I'm dreaming of a rainy Christmas

Awww yeah. I could happily sleep through Christmas (put Christ back in Christmas!) this year. I'm a tired monkey. A veddy tired monkey. Shit.

Plus the weather bites my ass. It's raining. Hardcore. Nothing says Christmas like rain. *sigh* And I'm not even a big fan of Christmas and I'm all bummed out at the craptastic weather.

All the visiting and running around began last week. Sleep is scheduled for the new year. At least that's what I'm hoping. Trying not to think of new years and what my hipster plans should be. Dang.

Still doing a whack of tests & appointments. Still not loving a minute of it. No siree. I'll be glad when (if) it's all over.

Excitement of the week? I bought an eye patch for my wonky left eye. I said "arrrgh" a lot and just about peed myself laughing. Yes, it's come down to eye patches to keep me amused. Heh. It's a rocking eye patch. You'd all love it. For real.

Sleep deprivation makes me zen

Steven Segal has got nothing on me.

I was chatting with a friend about making life decisions and I, having not slept properly in almost two months became one zen motherfucker. She was questioning a bunch of things and I simply said "be the answer". Kinda cool, but at the same time it made me realise something....I HAVE to get a few decent nights of sleep. Soon. Cause if it doesn't happen in the near future, I could start spouting some really messed up "zen" like things.
Imagine, I'll be at the photocopier going on about how the fluttering of a butterfly's wings could set off the toner of life or how the stapler is like the alligator of the office world, docile yet crazy dangerous. Geezus.

Does anyone have any suggestions on how to get a good night's sleep? No mention of sleeping pills...they only put me into a horrible dead sleep that leaves me feeling insane the next day. Make it a creative suggestion, I could use something nifty sounding.

S'all about the Christmas cheer

Yeah. It's all good these days. Spent the weekend with the gal and learned what it feels like to be stinkin' happy. I don't think it gets any better than this! I even managed to finish the bulk of my Christmas shopping. Now the wrapping. Dear lord, the wrapping. I doubt I'll ever see the end of it. *sigh* If I could get away with it, I'd just hand the gifts off, all "wrapped" in plastic bags. Heh.

Went to see my doctor today (yes, the appointments have started again). Things are pretty much the same. Doing lots of blood work next week and more follow up visits. I told my manager what was going on (finally). He actually surprised me and asked how I was holding up. Dude, I almost cried I was so caught off guard.

I'm a wee bit distracted these days, but I'm happy. Very happy. The throat, well, I could do without it, but hey...my friends are coming home for the holidays, I'm reconnecting with people I haven't spoken to in forever and I've got the love of a good woman. I'd say that is what makes the holidays special.

Things I have discovered and/or learned this week

*Offering Christmas Cheer in the form of a punch to the throat gets people to leave you alone

*reading thyroid newsletters/findings/studies out loud is the fuckin' funniest thing you could ever do with a loved one. If you can pronounce "Hypoparathryoidism" in one shot, I will bow at your feet. If you can define it, I'll clean your house for a weekend.

*I can't quit Weasel Central until March 2004 and that makes me wanna cry

*upper management is good for um, I'll get back to you on that one

*I've got a great group of friends who rock your face off

*my gal rocks the mofo casbah. Hardcore.

*decaf tea sucks ass. Really.

*cutting down on my alcohol intake isn't too bad. nor is increasing the amount of time I spend in the gym.

Ah, Monday, How I hate thee...

Well, only kinda. It's not that bad.
I'm trying to get used to the burning throat sensation. I'm not succeeding amazingly, but it's better than nothing.

Weasel Central is being the usual. So that's nothing new. And my revenge today? I look like I just rolled outta bed. It's great. I couldn't even be bothered to tuck in my shirt. One better, I forgot my belt. I'm better than a homeless guy on too much hooch. Yee haw. Boobies. Uh, I have no idea where that came from (actually, I do...Zoe, that was so for you).

I thought one of my friends was trying to avoid me after I called her with my cruddo news. The gal told me to talk to her and work it out. So I did. Turns out that I'm just a tad bit sensitive this week. Let's hear it for hormones!!! Guh. I like feeling like an emotional water buffalo. Makes me feel sexxxy.

I have to finish my Christmas shopping this week. Must. Finish. Can't go on anymore. The crowds. The music. The sales people. It's really too much for me. I'll be happy when we're done with all this "Christmas Cheer". Especially since I've decided that my version of Christmas Cheer will be a well placed punch to the throat for those who tick me off. Better than a fruit cake anyday, doncha think?

Ohmigawd. It's official, this entire week bit my ass. Hard. Well, except for the two month thing, that was cool.

This whole being tested by the universe for a whole year has got to fucking stop. Really. I'm at wits end. I can barely make it through a day without wanting to crawl under my Weasel Central issued desk and cry myself to sleep. And that's a lot, cause I don't think the cleaners have really done their job around here in a long time. Dude, there's a six month old Cheerio under my desk.

The gal has been absolutely amazing to me through the week of hell. Though today she's feeling hormonal and rather rough. So I've been trying to be her own little cheerleader (minus the skimpy outfit, I'm afraid). Lotsa hugs and stuff, y'know.

Yesterday I went to the specialist with the gal (yes, she's that amazing). Yesterday I had a freak out in the car. And in the office. And on the drive home. And well, you get the picture. Kids, I'm not liking the way things are looking. Don't worry, I'll be okily dokily at the end of it all, I'm just overwhelmed by all the information I got yesterday. It's never a good thing when the specialist says she's a wee bit concerned with existing test results. Looks like my role as human pin cushion is far from over. I've got a biopsy scheduled for the new year, along with another ultrasound, and of course, oodles of bloodwork. Yay!

So here's the Coles notes version (if I know you very well (you know who you are) you'll get the whole story in person or over the phone or by email if you so desire) of what's doing: the lump in my throat is gettin' bigger. No one's happy with that kind of progress.
Thank you.

Right. I'm off to sit and stare blankly at my screen and wonder why I bothered coming into work again.

Remember kids, give your loved ones lotsa hugs and kissies. And not just cause you want them to buy you a PlayStation 2 (though it wouldn't hurt).

Wow. Yesterday's post was cracked out. Way not to give the back story, Ren. Whooo.

Long story short, my AVP tried to rip me a new asshole for being honest. I told her that personally, I was not happy with a decision that had been made, but that professionally, I would stand behind it. Yes, kids, it went downhill from there. But that's okay. I just kept repeating my line and she got angrier and angrier until I finally just said, "Cool. Thanks anyways" and walked out. And then I came back to my desk and sent off a million resumes, called my mum, said the word "fuck" a lot (sorry, mum) and tried not to kill.

But in better news....I'm now at two months with the gal. Yee haw!

Oh dear lord.

Weasel Central is gonna be the death of me. Once again my AVP pats me on the head, tells me I'm "too protective" of my staff and sends me on my way.

I don't think I'm going to last until Christmas here.

Forgot one other thing:

A BIG huge congrats to Zoe and Jef for getting engaged on Friday!!! You kids rock the motherfucking Casbah!

Je suis une bad ass

I spent the weekend with the gal. That includes yesterday. The day she had off as a vacation day. The day I had off as a sick day. Yes, ladies and gentlemen, I played hooky. Well, only partially. I was kinda sick (see multiple entries on my beloved thyroid & all those blood tests). Just like the pope is kinda shaky. You know it.

And now I'm at Weasel Central trying to figure out why I'm here, cause honestly, I could use another day of sleep. Cause that's right, I don't feel 100%.

Glad I came in today. Took me 50 minutes to do a 25 minute drive. Just over an hour to eat a McDonald's apple pie (keep it healthy baby) and over 2 hours to get through yesterday's emails. And the mail room keeps opening my "personal and confidential" mail. Bastards.

Off to a meeting I go. Once again, I know you envy me.

I have the crunchiest of headaches. Damn this rainy weather. I've been hunting for the perfect spoon so I could well, spoon my eye outta my skull.

Dammit. I should go home, but I'm medicated (to get rid of the drum routine that's currently going on in my head) and I think driving would be a challenge. So yes, in other words, I'm trapped in the office. Re-reading that, I realise that's one of those scary lines. Y'know, along the lines of something out of Towering Inferno. Yes. THAT scary.

Heh. I'm gonna go and put my head down on my desk and see if the minions will leave me the fuck alone.

But before I go, something to ponder: Why is it that when you obviously have a veddy bad headache, everyone must SCREAM at you? The fuck? I have a headache, not sudden deafness! Keep it down, fucknut.

So here I am, sitting in front of my computer of doom, ignoring the washing machine trying to think of something deep/meaningful/witty to say, and all I keep thinking over and over in my pea brain is "Celine Dion is the anti christ".

Now I know, I know, she's Canadian and so am I, which means I totally have to love her, but that's where you're wrong. Dude, the bitch lives in Vegas. She ain't ours anymore. I can hate her with the venom usually reserved for um, yeah, stuff. Stuff like my job. Which incidentally reminds me that I got a KICK ass review. Y'know those ones that are all "if it wasn't for Ren the building would have burned down years ago". Yeah, it was that good. Too bad I still desperately want out of weasel central.

The experience is great...think about it, 28 years old and I'm management! Buah ha ha. But honestly? I'm tired of this crap. I'm tired of pasting on a fat arsed smile and acting like I love working in the 'hood. I don't love it. In the least. I don't love doing mad overtime while the other management goons cut out at exactly 4.00. I don't love apologizing on behalf of the company for marketing's latest hairbrained scheme. I'm getting to the point where I'm starting to agree with the angry callers and that's not good.

Methinks I need a wee bit of time off soon.

Oh. Since I don't seem to be following a linear thought pattern, more updates and random thoughts:

*I got added to Mizz Erin's links section. Coolio.

*I have a specialist appointment next week to check out my wonky thyroid. Yes. More fun. Rumour has it that this time I'll get a needle in my motherfucking throat! You so wish you were me.

*I'm still crazy about the gal. And she's still crazy about me.

*Though she still freaks out at the extreme happiness of the whole scenario. Some days I'm right behind her on that one.

*I've decided that I have no use for Christmas. I'm not a Scrooge, I just realised that I spend lots of time with family and loved ones, so one designated hang out day kinda seems stupid to me. And expensive. Damn expensive.

Okay. I gotta go and deal with my curtains.

Quickly, cause I'm supposed to be in bed by now:

My annual reviews are fuckin' done!

Had a pretty chilled out party last night (Mary Ann, Kirk & Brain, you were ALL missed). I think it was a success. Actually, scratch that, I know it was a success. Yee haw!

Things with the gal couldn't get any better. Happier than a pig in shit. Actually, quick aside, what the FUCK kinda line is that? Are pigs really happy rolling around in shit? C'mon, that can't be true. Hrm. Anyways. I'm happy. She's happy. There you have it.

I still hate my job. But hey, such is life, I suppose.

So now that the reviews are pretty much done (though I'm still waiting to get reviewed myself), life is almost back to normal. Which means more mindless postings for you guys. Yay!

Okay. I sleep now. Post more while on the corporate dollar. Here's to stickin' it to the man.

Right. Last post for the week. Why you may ask? Simple, I says. I'm in the midst of employee reviews. That and I haven't really started them and I'm supposed to start meeting with the minions on Wednesday. Yeah. I've got a lot of shit to get through in like a day and a half. Fuckin' A, rock star.

But before I disappear into the bowels of Weasel Central, I will leave you with this:

The Reader's Digest version of my life. By Ren.
* let's not discuss how much I currently "love" my job. Let's just say I'd rather be an altar boy at a priest convention, okay?

*the relationship thing is doing very well. We had a really intense conversation about a major fuck up (I didn't do it for once) and gawd fuckin' damn if it didn't bring us closer together. Yay us.

*hospital tests are not fun. Even if they involve radioactive pills (I shit you not).

*Yes, my health is that great that I get to ingest radioactive pills.

*I'm getting over a cold and I sound like a phone sex operator. I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing.

*I can't wait until my reviews are over and done with and I can return to surfing the net for a new job.

*I'm thisclose to admitting that I'm practically in love. And I'm terrified at that thought.

So there you have it, blog land.
And now if you'll excuse me, I have to go and have nightmares about Year End Reviews.

And then I pretended I was a grown up

Nothing like a good scare to make you rethink things. I was just reading Shmoopie's newest entry and it got me thinking, dude, I'm totally growing up!

Well, not entirely grown up, mind you. I'm still somewhat childlike (see: overuse of the word "dude"), but something's changing. And it's not just my voice. I'm starting to think about the future and things I really want to do for myself and the people in my life around me. I think some of that is because I now have someone who really cares for me in my life, but honestly? That can't be the only reason. There's gotta be something more.

I want to go back to school in the Spring. Take photos. Maybe even sell those photos. Heck, I know I'm a good photographer. I just wanna be better. It's something that makes me really happy. It never used to. It's like it changed overnight. One day taking photos was a chore, now it's a joy. Granted, I keep forgetting to take my camera with me everywhere, or I'll forget to take the film in to get it developed, but I still love it.

Every morning I now spend more time with the cats. No more rushing around to get into an office where no one really cares that you've shown up HOURS earlier than other people to get work done. Sure I stay too late, but heck, I'm not killing myself to finish everything in one day.

When I'm with the gal, I admire her gray hairs and her laugh lines. I always tell her that they're the best parts of her, cause they make me think she's lived through both the good and the bad. I want my own laugh lines and stray gray hairs. She thinks I'm crazy for it, but the old me never would have noticed those things cause I was always moving too fast.

I take the time to hold my grandmother's hand. And I make sure to split that decadent peanut butter cookie with her. I listen to her go on about the changing colours of the leaves and how she loves the red leaves, but only on the little trees because it looks like they're on fire. I never used to listen to that stuff. I can't even tell you if she used to tell me that. But I know she says it now.

I hug my friends like I might never see them again. Sometimes I even give them messy kisses. Like the one's you used to get from your friend's little sister.

I've learned to enjoy the here and now and not to dwell on what MIGHT happen down the line. Nothing worse than speculation. I know it's such an overused line, but really, go out there and live life to the fullest. Make the changes you always said you would, but never got around to doing cause you were too busy. One should never have any regrets in life. So far I have none. Yee haw.

I need a few things ASAP:

- a new job
- to mail that fuckin' CD out to the fabulous Cati before she disowns my lazy ass (walked in and out of the post office with it. TWICE)
- more tattoos
- sleep
- more time with the gal
- an entourage (just cause it would be so effin' gangsta like, and well, I'm becoming more of a square every day, yo)
- a personal chef (preferably one of the Iron Chefs)

Yeah. That's a good start.

Dear Universe,

Thank you for letting me end up with a very caring gal who has her shit together. However, saddling me with a medical scare is not the right way to pull us closer together. Sure, blood tests are mondo fun. Mysterious thyroid cysts are not. Please cease and desist. But leave me the gal. She's great. The rest sucks ass.

Thanks,
Ren

Today's Question

Why is love so effin' scary?

Suddenly that made me think of a line from a Rufus Wainwright song: Is it love or is it heartburn?

Hmmm. Funny, that.

My last night. By Ren

I left the office almost 20 minutes after that post. By the time I left, I had a "terminator" eye (y'know, all crazy red and scary looking). Managed to get home in one piece. Went and fed my friend's cats and wandered to the LCBO. There, I spoke waaaaay too loudly on my cellie of doom ("Scottie don't" was the favoured quote) picked up some Heineken and had this little sketchy dude stand a wee bit too close to me at the checkout counter.

Got home. Drank beer. Had hot dogs (what WAS I thinking?!?!?!). Passed out on the sofa for a few hours. Chatted with the gal. Dragged my ass upstairs to my room. Attempted to check my email. Realised that my new Terminator eye was acting up. Gave up and went to sleep.

Y'all fucking wish you were me.

In less than an hour, I will have been in this stinkin' office for 12 hours.

I am now going home.

Not because I am done with my mountain of work (agggggghhhh, employee reviews!!!), but because my right eye burns like a motherfucker on fire and it'll mess with my rushing home to do nothing but watch CSI and poke the cats.

Can't have that now, can we?
Hell nah.

Tonight's a Heineken night. Fuck the gym.

The universe is a tricky beeyatch

Right. So that phone call the other day from the recruiter folks? Yeah.
It was a different position they were calling about for a different company. Job sounds PERFECT. One of those jobs where I'd have like a million minions (mmmm, minions), I'd learn lots and maybe even have a good time.

One snag.

The mofo job is in PETERBOROUGH. For those who do not know where
Peterborough is (you lucky sods, you). Take your favourite little red neck town and drop it in the middle of nowhere. Now try and drive to it. Yeah.

I live downtown and on a good day that would be an hour and a half drive out to the middle of nowhere. Now factor in snow, the occassional suicidal animal (yay roadkill!) and the possibility of sleeping in once in awhile. Yup. That just turned into a three hour drive. Don't think so.

Garf.

In other news....the gal mentioned last night that we've just hit one month. I even got a "happy anniversary" song out of the whole thing. Yes, we are that effin' sad. Lovin' it.

Check it out:

Shmoopie threatens the Universe and suddenly, I get a call from a job that I desperately wanted (but didn't get the first time round). Aww yeah. Looks like I've got another kick at it! Fuckin' A!

Shmoops, could you possibly get the Universe to buy me a new ride?

Just wonderin'.

Oh yeah. I've started applying for jobs in HUGE numbers again. Still horribly desperate to get out of Weasel Central. Especially since I'm dating part of the management team. We get NOTHING done with all the stupid arsed flirting and whatnot that we do all frickin' day long. Yes, I love it. But really, I need something new. Something that won't make me as twitchy as this current job.

So everyone cross your effin' fingers and hope I find a shiny new job so I can stop whining about how much I detest Weasel Central, mmmmmkay?

Oh. And I avoided the gym today like the plague. Yay me. Pass that donut. And that pint of Heineken.
Fuckin' A rock star.

How I know today is going to suck my ass

My Gram called in tears. Couldn't even finish a sentence. Mum took the phone. She started crying.
Yup. It's over.

The family cat who's been around for 19 frickin' years is being put down this morning.

Goodbye Cindy. 22 years is a pretty good length of time for a cat. Especially if you had to spend 10 of those livin' with me.

I fuckin' hate Mondays.

[update: turns out that Cindy actually passed away on her own at the vet's. Looks like she hung around at home until everyone could say their goodbyes. *sigh*]

Updates A-Go-Go

Took my gram to the consulate office. Five full minutes of excitement, let me tell you. That's right. In and out like nobody's business. The lady behind the plexiglass probably said like three words to us. No complaints. Kick ass.

Had yet another intense conversation with the gal. Before y'all freak out, it's s'all good between us. The only downside is she's a big thinker and has managed to stress herself out a few (thousand) times. But hey, that's what new relationships are about. Especially when you're dealing with me. We're having a good time. And we're both fuckin' happy.

This will be an interesting relationship, so sayeth me. I'm crazy about this gal, y'know. And yes, I'm terrified. Fuck off.

Still looking for a new job. I know you're surprised at that. Really you are. Actually, the job search is bumming me out. Badly. *sigh*

Tomorrow I go back to the gym. I swear I'll do it. Gotta start getting into the swing of things. Must. Start. Getting. Fit.

Yeah. That's it for today.
Oh. One more thing. Cati, your CD will be in the mail as of tomorrow. Yay!

Taking a page from Shmoopie...I'm taking my grandmother to the pension office on Friday. I cannot wait. I'm so excited I could puke. And why am I taking her there? That's right, so she can do her cute, shaky left handed signature. Once that's done, we'll get the usual blank look from the clerk and that will be our sign to go the fuck home.

Pray for my stupid soul.
*sigh*

This one's for Kirk

if you love her (would you buy her a gun?)

I see her walking home
I see her casting shadows on the street
A car pulls up behind her
Rolls down the window, he starts to speak

And there's a target on her
and there's a bullet with her number
and she's an unarmed soldier now
but not for long
'cause it's a war and if you care, if you love her, buy her a gun
'cause it's a war
and she's a soldier, if you care, if you love her, buy her a gun

I see her walking home
I see him rolling softly at her heels
Headlights silhouette her
His heart beats faster as he grips the wheel
She looks for lighted doorways
He thinks that she could be the one
Laughing softly to himself
Could she make it if she runs?

And there's a target on her
and there's a bullet with her number
and she's an unarmed soldier
She's an unarmed soldier now
But not for long
'cause it's a war and if you care, if you love her, buy her a gun
'cause it's a war, and she's a soldier, If you care, if you love her, buy her a gun

If you love her, buy her a gun
Your girlfriend, your sister, your daughter, your mum
If you love her, buy her a gun
so she can blow some bastard's head off if he follows her home
Do you love her? Would you buy her a gun?
Do you love her? Would you buy her a gun?
Do you love her? Would you buy her a gun?
Do you love her? Would you buy her a gun?

Scary thought of the morning:

I'm fuckin' happy!
Yeah, it's been awhile since I've been school girl on fire giddy. I'm even being nice to the minions. That could be a sign of the upcoming apocalypse, y'know.

My hair is still fire engine red, I'm still thinking about embracing a healthy lifestyle & I see a trip to the gym in my near future. How crazy is that?!?!?!

The rowing season is winding down so I'm starting to gear up to do some major working out. The goal is to lose 5 more pounds so I can replace it all with muscle. Worked a few years ago, so we'll see if I can pull it off this year. Just gotta give up on the Heineken.

Come to think of it, maybe this working out thing is horribly overrated.

How you know you've got a keeper...you do some drunk dialing and you're greeted with "Baby, I thought you'd call later. It's only 10.30, you're a fucking pussy".

Yes, ladies and gentlemen of the jury, I am officially smitten. Dammit.

That and I think my blog is possessed.
Shit keeps appearing that I know I didn't type/think/wish. Dammit. Perhaps it's time to change locales. Hrm. Too drunk to seriously consider that now.

Gonna go finish my cup of tea and chill out to some old Bowie tunes. Aww yeah.

Argh. I'm still reviewing documents.
My attention span is shorter than that of a school girl on fire.
Dammit.

Shmoopie, you didn't miss much with the snowing thing. Except for me freaking out about it.
And saying "fuck" a lot. In the office.
I'm so hard core.
I blame my hair.

A sign that the big guy isn't happy with the Jesus flick:
Dude.
Mel take the hint. Your freaking assistant director got hit TWICE!
But I still couldn't help but giggle at the whole thing. I am such a bad Catholic.
*sigh*

Today at Weasel Central I get to review documents.
Wow.
I get to do all the fun shit around here.

In other news: It just stopped SNOWING!

Dammit.

Best of Both Worlds

Hoo boy.
Weasel Central is still buzzing. Rumour has it that there are more layoffs around the corner. Some of us are nervous. Some of us are praying that we're next. Some of us are beyond caring.

The affair (for lack of a better word, once again) with part of W.C's management team is off and running like a freight train. We'll see what happens in the long run.

All I have do is remember to breathe.

[edited: yesh, I'm a big wussy and I had to get rid of the "girlfriend" reference. It was freaking me the fuck out.]

Weasel Central is in an uproar. Downsizing has run rampant through the building, and once again, fuckin' ignored me. But got all the good ones. *sigh*

There's a weird energy around here. Like no one believes that the worst of it all is over yet. They've done a two day "blitz" (for lack of a better word) and well, we're wondering if they'll extend it by a day or two. I'm not sure. A lot of people are being walked out of the building. It's crazy. Like cows to the slaughter is the image that keeps popping into my head.

I don't feel like being here. But that could very well be the Gravol haze that I'm just getting out of.

Man, I don't think I can do this job anymore.
I think the job search is going to go into overdrive.
I need to save what's left of my sanity.
And I need to do it fast.

Dish? You effin' wish

This whole Weasel Central sneaking around thing is great. Except we're already acting like giddy school girls around each other. And doing marathon phone calls in the evenings. Yes, it's official...We're lame.

Details? A marathon make out session on the sofa. I learned one thing from that...I am too freakin' old to be making out on my sofa! I feel like I'm 96 or something.

Yeah, so far so great.
Further details of my scandalous evening will not be posted. Cause really, that's all there is. But if you insist on more, email me. I can't be airing all of my dirty laundry on the phucking web, now can I?

In other news, I am now a flaming red head. Gotta love a hair dye that's called "Red Corvette". How sweet is that?!?!?!

I was going to post one of my usual David Lynch like posts (what is UP with that lately?!?!?), but I decided against it. Maybe cause I'm tired. Very tired. Why is it that when you get next to no sleep, your body insists on waking early? Like c'mon! I don't have anywhere to be for like 3 more hours! Guh.

So here I sit in my jammies, listening to Radiohead's Okay Computer, paying off my bills and ignoring the cats.
Sounds fun wow exciting, I know.

And yes, my Saturday evening was wonderfully scandalous. In fact, it was so scandalous I missed the endings of both Trading Spaces episodes. Now I'll never know if that ugly couple liked the purple room Edward designed! In fact, I don't think I even saw the finished result.

That's right kids, I'm not going to dish on my evening (at least not now, need coffee first). But I will say a great evening/almost morning was had by all.

Thank you and good morning.

TMJ sucks.
Working in a call centre with TMJ blows.
Working at Weasel Central with TMJ blows dead bears.

Thank you.

Right. Watch this spot on Sunday for the update on my scandalous Saturday. Well, that is if it ends up being scandalous. What if it's just a quiet evening spent watching videos? Do you want to hear about that? I somehow doubt you horndogs would care about that.

And Chris, I want to be able to quit Weasel Central. I don't want them to turf me. That would suck arse. Quitting is much more fun than being fired. At least that's what I've learned. Though I've never been fired. Hmmmm.

One more random thought: when Daryl Hannah eventually dies, will she actually decompose or will future societies find her PERFECTLY PRESERVED BODY?!?!?!?!?
Ick.

Random Thursday Bits

My TMJ is acting up (of course it's my own damn fault, I'm too stubborn to use the mouth piece thingy at night).

I vowed to cut down on my alcohol consumption come November. Somehow even I knew I was lying about that. Cause, really, what the fuck else is there to do when it gets cold out?

My cold went away! Shmoopie, I think it was a hyper excited reaction to the notion of seeing you after MONTHS of not hanging out with you. Fo' sho'.

I'm still scared of Daryl Hannah and her boy boobies. And her roller skates.

So I have a "date" this weekend with the Weasel Central employee. Should be interesting, to say the least. No details to follow on that one, unless it's a complete bust and I end up having to quit my job from the shame of it all. Then I'll gladly reveal all. Cause that's how caring I am. Hott damn.