Hella Stella

I had Big Plans this weekend, but I sort of dropped the ball.

First I missed the 80s party that I actually bought an outfit for (LAME) because my BH was sick and my Morty was stitched. Home I stayed. Now I have to return a hideously awesome pink blazer with shoulder pads to Value Village.

Then I slept in so drastically that I missed the parade for Chinese New Year. I was so excited to go! Double lame!

Things I actually got done? Well, I reorganized my cupboards, which was stupidly fun.

I helped my BH shave his head. Also fun. And SEXY. God, he is attractive.

Hung out at Raw Sugar and made eyes at the cake.

I inspected Morty's stitches and bruising and gave him all sorts of noisy kisses. Speaking of which, Morty needs some visitors this week and next because he's not allowed to go to the dog park until he's healed. So neighbours? Feel free to cuddle the puppy, is all I'm saying. He would love to love you.

I picked up my folks from the train station and heard about their European vacation. Although the term "European vacation" sounds very posh and fancy, their version of it sounded stressful and rushed. Next time I'm on vacation I hope it can actually be relaxing. Nobody wants to come back from holidays with no money and more worries.

January is slipping away, but it will certainly end with a bang. Tomorrow's budget should be a nail biter for political junkies and annoyed Canadians alike. And maybe the bus strike will end before the snow melts!

Perhaps February will be less of a write-off, but I doubt it. This winter will just have to be one of hibernation. I will be a hermit until May, and then I'll emerge from my cave with a bottle of wine and a party dress, screaming for the sun.