An ammendment

As per a certain someone's request I have decided to ammend my birthday post.

Birthdays no longer suck.

Mr. Roberts pulled in around noon on Sunday, we spent a few hours getting reacquainted and then came upstairs for air.

Callie, the new girl, pointed out 2 presents in the living room but informed me that I was not allowed to touch them yet. So I didn't. She also said that Ross and Tyler were gone to the store to get supplies of a sort. We put on our jackets, snapped a leash on Summer and went outside for a walk to the store.

We ran into the guys just outside the house, told them I'd be back in 15 and we walked to the store.

We got back to Ross making a cake and preparing supper and Tyler decorating the house.

I sat down to open my present, and well, I got completely spoiled this birthday.

The boys bought me a photo printer!

As much as it chagrins me to say I was wrong.. I was wrong. My birthday did turn out well. :)

4 Reasons Why

Birthdays suck.

Birthdays are:

1) An inventory of all your "real" friends vs. your "fake" friends. It's funny how a guy you dated 5 years ago sends you a MSN at midnight and says "Is it too early to wish you a Happy Birthday?" while people that enthusiastically claim to 'love me' don't even send me a Good Morning.

2) A status report on your current place in life, and if you've done everything youre supposed to do by such and such age, and then seeing a disturbing amount of checks in the "nope" column.

3) The sad resignation that you have no control over the events of this day in your life, and must meekly nod and smile when everyone assumes they know what you REALLY want to do.

4) The unsettling social commentary that most of your "gifts" are in bottles

Birthdays suck.

And Mr. Roberts may well still be stuck in Fox Creek, Alberta.

Even the best laid/smallest/almost completely non-plans go awry.

Damned if I do, damned if I don't.

New Toys!

I got home from catching 'Flicka' at the Clareview theatre with my coworker, Amie-Lynn tonight and checked my mail. Parcel from home, and being that it's now 2 days till my birthday, I know this entails a present.

My baby bro got me a cordless desktop set to replace my mismatched mouse and keyboard, and I'm thrilled. I had to disassemble my whole desk area to take Corey's AirPort out of the network and to plug my modem directly into my computer anyway, so I cleaned it up a bit, pulled out a few superfluous cables and plugged the receiver into the back of my PC. Now I can stand in the kitchen, stir my soup and continue on my random train of thought -- much as I'm doing right-this-minute. The keys are a lot closer together than my last one, so I guess I'll leave it up to my brain to relearn keyboarding on a vastly different keyboard.

Mr. Roberts is just happy that I'll have a mouse with a scroll wheel again. And it's optical.. so no bloody trackwheels to clean like on the old style ball mouses.

Joy.

And he's home tomorrow. I have a lot of things to be happy about right now.

Oh. I cried for the last 20 minutes of 'Flicka'. Just so you know.

'My Friend Flicka' was one of my favorite books growing up, though.. so no big surprise.

A Face like Garbo

A friend of mine on MySpace got my hooked on this.

Need an instant ego boost?

I played with a few different pictures, and my face is evidently similar to such classic beauties as Garbo, Natalie Wood, Catherine Zeta-Jones and Sophia Loren, but the kicker? In one picture 96% match for Esquire Magazine's current 'Sexiest Woman Alive',
Scarlett Johansson, although she comes up as a result for all my pictures.

Goddamn. I'd hug it if it weren't just a website.

Nature Vs. Nurture

I've never claimed to be a scientist but I enjoy compiling and analyzing data like one.

I've been reading this fascinating book called 'The Genius Factory' by David Plotz. Back in the late 1970's to early 1980's the concept of germinal repositories (ie. sperm banks to the layman) was still pretty new, but one man with decidedly more money than brains had a concept of a utopian society in which children were born to Mensa moms and Nobel dads.

Robert Graham, a self made businessman, decides to create the Repository for Germinal Choice, a sperm bank located on his 10 acre estate in Escondido, California. The repository rapidly earned it's more well known nickname, the Nobel Prize Sperm Bank for it's founder's propensities to pursuing Nobel laureate recipients like a dog after a cooked steak. His best efforts only garnered 3 willing Nobel donors (included noted Eugenics supporter, William Shockley), but he eventually lowered his standards to allow accomplished scientists, students, professors, doctors and self made businessmen like himself to make donations which he initially only distributed (complimentary) to (as I mentioned in the above paragraph) married women who were either accepted by Mensa or had an IQ of 120 points or higher.

Granted, Graham realized that if his bank was going to be a success he'd finally have to accept whatever women who came in the door with a raging biological clock and enough money to complete the process of insemination.

The entire book has been enlightening to me for so many reasons. The concept of Eugenics was something I had often thought about in regards to whether or not I wanted to have my own children. Keep in mind of course that I view the theory as it was originally intended to be thought of, as the study of improving human genetic qualities (and in ALL races!), and certainly not at all like supporters such as Hitler, Mussolini and Stalin thought of it in terms of forced sterilization and euthanasia for the 'sub-classes'. And honestly, I think many people given the choice of playing even the smallest of parts in creating how their unborn child would turn out would like to choose to have a even-tempered, healthy child with the physical traits of your choosing.

But then I started thinking about the argument against that. DNA is fickle. So the donor's sperm only contributes one half of the genetic information. What about the half contributed by the woman?

So what traits do adults possess that are gifts of nature versus ones of nurture? Which are purely environmental and are results of the way these people were raised?

The author goes into a lot of detail on this. Would it not be permissable that children raised by overachieving parents are thus overachievers, regardless of their so called 'genius' DNA?

I'm not the only one that notices the cultural differences in how children of different descent's are raised. Typically most children of European descent were allowed a more liberated upbringing than, say, an Asian child of the same age.

In most middle eastern cultures, children are taught that education is all important and are often raised believing that they are expected to do great things, whether a world renowned concert violinist or the world's greatest mathematician.

So while it could be argued that people of Asian descent are on average higher in IQ than their caucasian counterparts, it does lead me to wonder if they are truly genetically predisposed to being more intelligent or if the general cultural differences allow them the advantage later in life.

For anyone who's not completely bored yet, I wonder if you might know of any studies on this. I'd be interested in reading them.

And tonight, perhaps I'll sleep.

Only when we are no longer afraid do we begin to live

My birthday is in exactly one week.

23 years of life and I sit back and think how marked the changes in my life are.

One thing in specific gets me.

I'm afraid a lot more now than I ever was.

I remember being 17 years old, passing out resumes in Jasper National Park on the way to a dog show and never being more excited for my future. I was going to leave my hometown, find a fun job in a tourist hotspot and discover myself.

I got a job, moved just over a month later and started carving out an individual place for myself in this world.

When I got there I had no friends, no money, a fridgeful of parental bought groceries and a pack of cigarettes and from there I trekked forth trying to make the most of everything.

Soon I made friends, made money, bought more cigarettes and groceries and started feeling like I was truly living life. I went out all the time, cherished the rare occasions I could stay in and enjoy the relative solitude, discovered so many new and exciting things and learned what made me tick. I had no qualms about going out and meeting new people, any semblance of reserve was depleted when I started realizing that people LIKED being around me and hanging around with me. And I could approach a stranger on the street and be fast friends with them in under an hour.

I met men all the time. I flirted outrageously. If they didn't want me, the next one would, and so many men became a passing fancy. I had crushes like I did in Junior high.. so many men, so little time but now I had the self-assured confidence to approach almost every one and let them know they struck my fancy.

No, I wasn't promiscuous. I had experiences, to be sure, but my body was still my own and I didn't give it away to just anyone.

I took up hobbies. Things that scared the hell out of me, but that I did anyway.

When Jasper got old, I started looking elsewhere for a job. Where did I want to go next? What did I want to see?

I sent resumes to places in Banff, Canmore, Kananaskis and Waterton -- all places I'd chosen out of a resort guide that my current job provided for guests.

I got calls, did phone interviews and shortlisted 6 or 7 different places that I'd like to go. When I told my friends I was moving and they asked where to, my answer changed on a daily basis.

Somedays I said Banff, for the nightlife; Waterton, for it's quiet solitude and close proximity to the States (where I'd never been); Kananaskis for it's rustic beauty; and Canmore for it's quaint little town and short distance to both Calgary and Banff.

I settled on a little guest ranch a short distance from Kananaskis, set about 20 minutes east of Canmore and under an hour west of Calgary. I figured it was the best of all worlds. Close enough to a metropolitan area and a few young people hotspots, quiet and beautiful, and, it had horses.

The front desk manager was very excited about having me, but a little less excited about me needing a place for my cat to live also. She finally talked the ranch's owner into allowing me to live in one of the staff cabins with Onye and I started making plans.

I put my notice in at my job in Jasper, told everyone where I was going and started packing.

I had less than a week left to go when my roommate decided she'd had enough of sharing her room with the other girl in the 2 bedroom apartment, we'd all shared and would step things up a notch. She told our apartment complex manager that I had a cat in our strict no pets complex and I was forced to find another place to live for 5 days or to speed up the process of moving down to the ranch.

I chose the latter. I hurriedly packed the rest of what I had up, called my friend Frasier who drove for a cab company and talked him into the idea of driving me, my stuff and the cat the 5 hours down to the ranch.

I'll admit it. I was a little scared at that point. Being forced to move 5 days early under duress for something as trivial as having a cat who'd already been living there for 7 months was scary. But we had fun. We stopped a bunch of times for dumb photo ops (sadly my film got exposed and I only have 3 pictures that were salvaged), made a quick turn through Banff to check things out and pulled in to the ranch at about 10 pm. He helped me lug my stuff into my new abode, gave me a hug and told me to keep in touch.

And for the next few weeks I worked hard at gaining a bunch of friendships after all those I'd left behind. It was difficult.

A lot of the people there had been coming there for years and so things seemed really clique-y at first. But one day I was sitting outside having a smoke when a girl sat down beside me and started talking to me. Her name was Tobi, she worked in the kitchen, and she'd only been there 3 days longer than I had and everyone was standoffish with her, as well.

We spent a lot of time together over the next few days, despite the fact she wasn't a 'ranch resident' and lived with her friend Katie in their apartment in Canmore. I went into Canmore with her a few times and checked things out, she got a promotion, and suddenly the other people at the ranch stopped viewing us as the 2 new girls and more as people they wanted to associate with.

We were invited into Banff and Calgary for night's out, we went out on staff trail rides and to parties together. We were like family.

But the summer's end fast approached, people started getting laid off to prepare for the low season and our numbers dwindled.

A few of us moved into a house across the highway in Bow Valley Provincial Park. Well, a few might be an understatement because at it's peak there were 6 of us there on a permanent basis and 2 more on a temporary basis. And that was just people. Factor in Angie's 2 Great Danes; my Siberian Husky, Reba; Tobi's Himalayan cat; Kahlua; Onye and on occasion Tobi's boyfriend Dave's mastiff puppy, Goliath. We were packed, but we had a lot of fun. And again, I was afraid of nothing.

Even when my head hit the chopping block and I was the next in a long line of layoffs. I had no job, and was forced to move back home, but still nothing.

And here I am so many years later with a great relationship, a nice place to live and a few good friends.

So why am I so afraid now?

Tell the Barber you're sick of looking like an asshole...

I made my semi-monthly pilgrimage to Explosm.net for the Cyanide and Happiness comics.



I think this is what I've been missing. I feel the stress peeling off like so many layers of clothing right now.

Our Perception of Beauty

Shane sent this to me just now..

That'll make you think. Why have I not seen this commercial on TV yet?

Hello Weekend!

Before I get into today, I just wanted to pass on a piece of advice to someone.

Don't lie. Aristotle said, "We are what we repeatedly do". Repeatedly lying makes you a liar.

And you can attempt to make me feel worse by sending barbed words to me to do the dirty work, but it only reflects on who you are as a person. I'm secure enough to know that all they are is words. I don't have to live with the guilt -- not that you seem to have a functioning conscience.

What can I say? Friends are like roses, watch out for the pricks.

9 days until my birthday and then I'm the big 2-3, which signifies.. well.. nothing. Nothing of consequence happens to anyone on their 23rd, because it's just another birthday.

I'm thinking about cutting my hair into bangs. This kills 2 birds with one stone.. makes the whole 'schoolgirl' fantasy of Mr. Roberts' come to life, and I can hide my huge forehead. I remember someone telling me when I was younger that people with high foreheads are among the smartest of people. The jury's still out on that, and he had a low forehead so what did he know?

Anyway.. I played around with a virtual makeover program on ivillage and Ross agreed this is what I should do should I ever find the need to go incognito.

Corina seems to believe I make a fetching dork, and I can even admit to being slightly attached to the glasses, however, it is making me rethink the bangs idea.

And obviously it looks nothing like me. Right?

Right?

I did balance tonight, but whatever I botched yesterday, I botched good. The money's still missing.

I'm all Sixes and Sevens!

No, not really.

Personally, I feel great. I'm getting ample sleep, I got a ton of things figured out today, my house is getting cleaner tonight with only minimal effort, the dog hasn't had an accident in over a week and my darling is home in 9 days.

Let's just say this is the least amount of stress I've for several days now. The only upside to that is a crappy appetite causing me to drop a few more pounds. Who feels like eating when they're buried under a mountain of pressure?

But professionally.. let's just say I didn't have work on my mind at all today, and somehow I managed to botch something good. I'm becoming brilliant at finding and fixing my outages at the end of each day and today, no one could find it.

Hopefully I just did something silly that's easily fixed in the morning and doesn't put a damper on my weekend, because hey... I want a weekend I can enjoy for once.

All in all, I'm a little wiser for my experiences lately, and I'm just really happy that I have a constant bright spot in my life.

The New 7 Wonders

Forgot to mention this last night, but Amie-Lynn and I successfully wasted an hour of work time yesterday voting for the New 7 Wonders of the World.

Of the original Seven Wonders of the World - the pyramids at Giza, Babylon's hanging gardens, Alexandria's lighthouse, Ephesus' temple of Artemis, Olympia's statue of Zeus, Rhodes' Colossus and the mausoleum of Halicarnassus - only the pyramids remain. And yes, they're on the new list on candidates, because as I agreed, they are still a wonder of the world.

Obviously the pyramids ranked high enough in my mind to succeed in nabbing one of my seven votes, as well as the statues at Easter Island. As for the rest.. you make up your own mind.

Today

It's getting cold.

This morning me, and several thousand other people in Edmonton, made seemingly the largest effort they've made thus far this week.

We got out of bed.

I feel asleep reading this delightful no brainer of a chick lit novel, and woke up snuggled up next to the cat and under my 2 comforters with my head on 2 brilliantly soft feather pillows. Can you blame me for not wanting to leave the sanctuary of my bed?

I hit snooze several times without opening my eyes which pretty much proves to me that even if my alarm clock is located a few feet above my head, it still has no affect on me waking up sooner.

I just get toned arms from pushing myself high enough off the bed to hit the button again.

As for the rest of my day?

Nothing happened.

It was boring and uneventful and, well, great.

That's my life in a nutshell, I guess.

Dental Work and others

My dentist must really think I'm odd. In the past 2 weeks, I've seen him 3 times with another appointment booked in early November.

So this morning, bright and early at 7 am, I went in to get some cavities filled. Not the smartest idea in light of the fact that I have to be at work at 10, but I figure I can finally use a sick day and have a fairly valid excuse. After all, it's awfully hard to smile and greet people when I look like Two-Face from Batman, except droolier.

Aside from my strong gag reflexes, it all went pretty uneventfully. I was in and out in under an hour and pretty much just willed myself to nod off while they did the work.

I didn't succeed because he kept prodding me asking if I was still doing ok. If half my face weren't frozen and I wasn't in such a compromising position, I'd probably smack him and tell him to lay off, even if he is rather on the pretty side.

But the upper right hand side of my mouth is all fixed, which relieves me.

Of course the freezing was still in full effect, and didn't seem to be dissapating in the least, so I called work and told them I'd be in at one. It was sort of nice to have a reduced day. Even if I didn't get to sleep in.

In other news we've found another roommate.

I know a few of you have already let your curiousity get the best of you when it comes to my very vague post of a few days ago, but for the few that haven't, it was obviously Corey.

And I know that many have you have insisted that this was a long time coming, and applauded the decision, but I'd like to say, just for the record, that I did have hope and faith that he'd finally do the honorable thing, clear up his debts and his life, but sadly, it was to no avail.

Everyone here is really happy with the decision.. it had put a lot of pressure on me, which in turn put a lot of pressure on everyone else, and quite frankly, we all have enough on our plates to deal with that we didn't need something that could be so easily controlled and disposed of.

Just a rule of thumb in case any of you have a similar problem.. if you wouldn't let your family get away with it, then you should know better than to let your friends get away with it.

T minus 12 days till Mr. Roberts is home. I'll never be happier to see him.

An Update

I know, I know. It's been DAYS since my last update, and it's not that I haven't WANTED to update, but what to write?

I'm extremely disappointed in a certain someone in my life. Obviously, he's not friendship material, and if he hadn't proved it to me (and everyone else) over the past year of ongoing bullshit, he most certainly has now. In any case, the cat's out of the bag, and his comeuppance is on the way. I really hope he finally learns a lesson, and grows up because it's going to be a hard lesson to learn on many levels.

I got bad news that I thought I'd be prepared for, but wasn't. The same day the above erupted my mom called to let me know that my beautiful dog, Reba was laid to rest after 3 years of borrowed time. I've cried a little, but I still haven't allowed myself to mourn like I should. That dog was the bright spot in my life for almost 12 years and I'm happy that she's not in pain anymore and that she was allowed to go with dignity although I miss her more than I can ever express.

Reba, run free, sweet girl.

I'm sure it will hit me soon.

The same morning Reba was laid to rest, one of my long running lead dogs on my dogsled team back home was also put to sleep. Cino had recently come down with acute pancreatitus and acquired malabsorbtion syndrome and the decision was made to allow her to go with dignity, also. Cino was only 6 years old.

This past week has been one of the most difficult of my life, but if my past history is any indication, things will get better soon.

Mr. Roberts is home in a few weeks for my 23rd and everyone here is so much calmer now that the situation is no longer in limbo. It's been a long time coming.

Random Observations

This morning I'm standing on the bus. It's quarter after 8 and it's jam packed of teenage kids refusing to give up their seats for even the most frail of the elderly.

People are sliding, spinning and bumping into one another and it's generally just another morning that I hate mass transit.

I look down at this girl sitting in a seat. Pretty nondescript. Black hair cut into a shaggy sort of bob, a little overweight, really bitten nails. Your typical teenage girl today.

This typical teen has an army green messenger bag with her and her friend's nexopia addresses plastered on it (like that doesn't already get to me.. we didn't advertise our email addresses 10 years ago with the advent of the accessible internet, did we??). Monikers like ~Goth-Baby~, VampiraPrincess and *Emo*Gurl* seem to be popular choices among her peers. Aside from that she has the words Goth and Emo written all over the bag.

And it hits me. Back when I was young, which granted was only a few years ago, you weren't emo -- you were just depressed. And to boot, we strived to defy definition. To be individual, unique, stand out from the crowd.

Of course we ended up looking like every other teenager trying to stand out that the vast majority of us just fit in, but we did try, didn't we?

So what is up with kids today and their constant need for definition? They don't want to realize that what they are is just another angsty teenager, but instead are screaming out for someone to DEFINE them.

As for the girl on the bus? Her definition is angst ridden, mixed up teenager. Emo, Goth or whatever she fancies herself, she is not.

And people smell a lot worse when it rains. It's like a damp mixed with a little unwashed and a whole lotta sweat. I'll admit it.

Even I smelled a little.

And Zellers is truly the store I hate the most. If there was ever a candidate for store that should just close it's doors for good, it's Zellers. They don't even have fantastic sales a la Wally's World. And their Loss Prevention Officers drive me mad.

I'm not walking around the DVDs waiting for the coast to be clear enough to shove something into my bag, I'm trying to figure out why your entire selection seems to be 5 years old. Note -- Seabiscuit was released in 2003, therefore is not a 'new selection' anymore.

I'm not ranting though, really. I have tacos almost 100% percent prepared for supper.

Some things just really grind my gears.

An ammendment

Right.

Mr. Roberts is again (and even more so) a beautiful human being and he bought me flowers to cheer me up, Friday. Did I mention he's great?

Dinner was good, by the way. Thanks for asking.


The wine, which was also good and which I was ever so fond of last night, is not my friend this morning.

It took all the energy I had to make a turkey sandwich and walk the dog to the store to pick up smokes this morning, since I apparently smoked all mine last night.

I wasn't completely a pathetic loser drinking by myself, Shane and his new girlfriend, Jessica came over to watch Walk the Line and indulge as well. They brought little Hamish along and Summer tried her hardest to woo him.

I don't think any of us had the heart to tell her he lacks the equipment to even become interested. Plus, he's much too short for her.

Mismatched from the very beginning.

Today I'm enjoying not having anything planned and am lying in the basement watching movies and eating leftover turkey while trying to figure out what odd things I might have said last night to the many people who called me to wish me a happy holiday. Bad case of wine mouth.

Damn good holiday Monday. I think I'll watch Hidalgo next.

Why my middle name is not 'Teetotaller'

Lemme tell you about my weekend.

Friday night, I get off work and on the way Mr. Roberts sends me a text to let me know that he WILL be going back to work the next day. I get home, call my neighbour to finalize plans for the garage sale we had planned this weekend and she asks whether she can take a raincheque. Me, and the $200 worth of change in my purse fume around the house for an hour or so waiting for Mr. Roberts to come over so we can go to supper.

He arrives, we drive around looking for something to pique our fancy when he spies The Keg. I hate the Keg. Not because I think their food isn't good, because the 2 things I've ever ordered have been good every time I get them. It's just that. I can really only order 2 things. I'm in a bad state of affairs already, cry at the table for a bit (I swear, not pregnant, just emotional) and we decide to pay for our drinks and forgo The Keg.

Well, I do. I'm sure he had a whole surf and turf meal planed out before the waterworks erupted.

We drive around, get pissed off about the lack of parking and our lack of reservations on a Friday night going into a long weekend, and finally opt to go back to my place to order Chinese.

So we do.

Except now it's below 10 outside, and inside, as well. My furnace is busted.

We put in our chinese order, call my landlord and open it up.

Between the two handymen they couldn't come to a consensus on what it was so I made plans to call Atco first thing in the morning to have them come look.

We eat our chinese and then run to Safeway to pick up the things I need to make Thanksgiving dinner.

Saturday morning dawns. He gets up, showers, kisses me and leaves. I get up and cry on the couch for a 1/2 hour while watching The Life Network.

I notice the Greek Restaurant we tried to get into on Friday actually has it's own show based on a overachiever Greek man's quest to open a 3rd Greek Family Restaurant in Edmonton. I see someone I know at the end, who has a 6 month old baby now, drunk and flirty. I wonder if she knew she was pregnant when it was filmed.

I call Atco, they give me a 24 hour timeline of when the repairman might be there and ask me to stay home for the entirety of it.

Tyler comes home. I'm sick of watching Even Stevens on the Family channel so I recruit him to stay on watch for the Atco guy and go to the mall for scrapbooking supplies, videos and books.

I come home. He leaves.

I watch 2 movies, and just as I'm about to hop in the shower, the Atco guy shows up.

45 minutes later he's disassembled, reassembled and fixed my furnace with the faulty part being the Thermocouple. The same part Mr. Roberts suspected it might have been.

He hands me the $54 bill, and leaves. I watch TV, read my book and go to sleep.

This morning I wake up before 9. Check on the thawing bird in the sink, check my email and straighten up the kitchen. But 9:30 I've stuffed the bird, brushed it with garlicky oil, and shoved it into a paper bag and into the roaster in the oven.

I don't care if it's 'not safe'. It's also the easiest and most effective way to cook a turkey.

By 1, Ross has called. He's not coming home for dinner. One week advance notice he had that I was cooking a turkey and he decides he's going to his mom's place for dinner. His mom that called this morning to say she wasn't doing a turkey or anything for Thanksgiving.

Thanks Ross. Just what I need. To be alone on Thanksgiving.

So what did I do?

I have a bottle of Sauvignon and another of Chenin, 12 hours worth of videos from Blockbuster and a bird, stuffing, gravy, mashed potatoes and vegetables, and I will have Thanksgiving with my dog.

If it isn't pathetic enough to eat a turkey dinner by yourself, why not go all out and get drunk on good wine, too?

I think we're all just one crappy weekend from alcoholism.

Be a Bookworm without leaving your.. computer?

I'll not beat around the bush. I read -- a lot.

If I'm not currently immersed in 3 different books (one thoughtful for the bus travel to and from work, one for mindless bed-time reading and one when I need to think but stop thinking specifically about the subject matter of book one) then it's an off week. Or I owe 1/4 of my paycheque in library fines (again) and I've already (UGH!) dipped into the bag of Harlequin's mom sent me to throw into my garage sale.

But I am overjoyed to discover this beauty of a URL.

Imagine this. You're sitting at work staring at the wall as you have been for the past 25 minutes, the only recent email received was a reminder from your boss about performance assessments next week and you'd have to mortgage your first born just to be able to afford what you've lost on Solitaire, were it real life.

Wanna catch up on your reading?

Afraid the boss might finally can you if he caught you flipping through War and Peace, especially since you're still treading thin ice with that whole Office Christmas Party Xeroxing incident?

Don't fret. Click. You won't be disappointed.

You're On Notice!

Yes. You.

$23.4 Million Dollars Raised

That's how much the Run for the Cure raised across Canada yesterday.

By the end I was a little tired and completely famished, so Mr. Roberts and I said our goodbyes and went out for a big breakfast to put those calories we'd just spent back into our bodies.

I'll just show the pictures now.





















We made it in 59 minutes and some odd seconds, and thankfully because Edna, Denise and I went to 'do our warmup' (ie. smoke) before we headed out on our 5km jaunt, I wasn't grumpy at all when I finished.

Mr. Roberts and I jogged for a few minutes, but neither of us is in great enough shapre currently to do it for much longer than that, so we finished the race walking.

Even Summer was a little tired near the end and started limping so we'd be completely clear on that.

It was a good morning though. We did something good.

The Walk

It's 8 in the morning and Mr. Roberts and I need to be downtown in an hour for the CIBC Run for the Cure.

I'm still smoking in my robe and obviously writing this. I believe he's still sleeping.

We really only went to bed 6.5 hours ago. I've decided this is way too early to be up on a Sunday.

We watched Lucky Number Slevin last night, and I sorted out random stuff for the garage sale my neighbour and I are going to have next weekend. I don't think one realizes how much crap they've accumulated until they plan to downsize it. It's almost liberating.

But that took us quite some time, and we went a little later still when he decided to rip a few of my CDs through his computer before I sell those next week, too.

I really ought to go wake him up so he can shower and get ready to go.. the only thought really plaguing my mind though is whether or not it's appropriate to smoke on a walk for breast cancer?

Because I'm not sure I can handle a 5km walk with some of my coworkers without smoking.

Heaven help us.