Hella Stella

Well.

Thanks to Megan's generosity, my BH and I (and Andi, and the in-laws) moved our boxes into the apartment a few days early. Suddenly I feel like we've actually gotten something done. Like we're getting somewhere with all this craziness. Like maybe now we can mop the floors.

Tonight, I have to pack up my closet. Then I have to wash the curtains. Maybe I can organize our bedside tables. It's too early to unplug the stereo, I think. I'll need loud music to clean to. The CDs are a disaster, and I still don't know how I'm going to deal with them. I have hundreds and hundreds, most of which are alphabetized, some of which are in piles. How to pack them? I don't know.

I have also lost Megan's gift in the mess, which is predictable and lame.

Morty doesn't understand what's going on. We gave him a bullwinkle to keep him happy, and holy shit, was he ever happy. He chewed it to mush, and apparently just swallowed it whole. I hope it doesn't make him sick. Do you think my crazy puppy can pass a whole bullwinkle? I'm going to find out very soon, I think. Yikes.

Speaking of passing.... Morty finished his puppy kindergarten class yesterday. He even passed the weenie challenge (and proceeded to whip out his own weenie, but whatever dude, that's nothing new). My grandmother, my sister and my parents came to his final class. I don't even want to know what's going to happen when my BH and I have kids, considering that his mother has already been ordering puppy bling for Morty on the internets. Nobody but the Communist Aunt has told us to have babies so far, but the way our families baby Morty is pretty telling. They want some spawn. Now.

We went to Oz Kafe last night for my sister's birthday. I kept ordering her martinis and gifted her all my art supplies and a cute leather clutch. She was thrilled. She likes used stuff so much, I never really have to go wandering through the shops when it's present time. Besides, it was a great way to cut down my clutter without having to feel guilty about chucking my art stash. She took away two whole Rubbermaids and an easel. Jesus, I'm a pack rat in denial.

One more day at the office and then it's time to move it move it.

Nothing puts me in a good mood like financial planning does. Seriously. I have been crunching numbers all day and I'm fucking giddy. Savings plans, how I love you!

I finally stopped making excuses and went to my BH's ultimate frisbee game last night. I think team sports are about as fun as getting kicked in the eye, but we both wanted Morty to be able to meet everyone on his team. Seeing as how I don't understand the rules of the game, and seeing as how I usually end up sitting on the sidelines in wet grass, I'm often reluctant to go. Still, I had fun with Morty and it was nice to see my BH run around and get all sweaty and delicious. Did you know that yelling "you're hot" in ultimate is part of the acceptable sports terminology? I had fun with that. Morty had fun too, or that's what I took from his boner-to-non-boner ratio. Frisbees really get him going.

Although XUP's suggestion that I may have bulldogitis was carefully considered, it turns out that I really do have a cold. I'm congested and sore, and if I didn't have so much to do I would stay at home and sleep. Come to think of it, Morty sneezed in my face this morning, so I guess it's possible I got it from him...

I've realized that it's very hard to tell how far along one is in their packing. Last week, I thought I had loads done. This week I feel the same way, but the amount of boxes has tripled. How the fuck much do I have to pack? I feel like I've been packing forever.

We ordered some t-shirts off Etsy for my BH since it has been several years since we've replenished his supply. Now his gently-worn shirts are getting past the point of no return, especially since we've had Morty and his potty training to contend with. Poo stains = gross. Ironically, my favourite shirt that we ordered says "Uranus is dark and icy."

What, were you expecting serious shirts? Puh-leeeease.

This Canada Day was a definite improvement over previous Canada Days... We literally just ate, drank and sat around until the local firecrackers stopped going off. I kept shouting "show me your tits!" to Andi, and as far as I remember, she never did.

Morty had a slightly less fun time, having unwisely provoked an older alpha dog which resulted in a bite or two on the noggin. Poor little man. He slept it off and seems to remember nothing. He also went miraculously boner-free for the whole day! Go Morty!! We have posted a few new videos to his Youtube channel, in case you feel like watching a fat puppy dancing to Paul Simon.

I've started to say no to new gigs. Is that weird? I think I want to take the summer off and change my focus. Moving, getting healthy and spending time with my BH and my pup are the only things I want to deal with lately. I haven't had the time or the mental space to write new songs. I just don't feel inspired. It would probably be a whole lot better to spend the summer recharging instead of playing the same old set over and over. There are a few fall shows I'm looking forward to, so I'll jump back in the game then.*

It's becoming more and more clear that I'm going to need to hire movers for the end of the month. Especially since this morning, when I discovered that we might be the new owners of a piano. The problem? Every moving company in Ottawa seems to be booked up. We thought we'd be able to do it ourselves, but now, as the expression goes, we are royally fucked. Fucked with a capital Fuck. That's how the expression goes, I'm sure of it.

Would I like a glass of panic with my stress? Ooooh, yes please!


*Watch this all fall apart the second someone offers me something really fun.

Morty went to his first puppy class today.

I think he did very well, other than the growling and the boner. He is a special boy. But driving to puppy class by myself with Morty strapped into the seat beside me? Hellishly stressful. Remind me not to do that alone ever again.

Now Morty has fallen asleep on my BH, who is also asleep. If you ask me (not that you have a choice in the matter), they are two of the cutest boys in the world. Oh, Morty just upped the cute by eating in his sleep. Now he's licking his chops. Now he's grunting. Holy dang.

To drastically change topics: I've just about had it with strangers coming into my house. This place still isn't rented, and my lovely property manager keeps bringing people over in the hopes that someone will want the house for the next eleven months. The short lease is scaring most of them away, but I am crossing my fingers that someone will just take it already. I detest having people I don't know looking at my stuff. It makes me feel itchy. Besides which, my purse went missing right after the latest strangers left today, and I was momentarily convinced that I was robbed. Thankfully my bag had just been moved during cleaning. Still. They could have been psychos. Psychos with really greasy hair who were happy to chat about hip dysplasia.

I guess the upside to having random people in my house is that I clean a lot more. Today, I soaked my bathroom in vinegar and wiped it right down. Then I swept, folded laundry, cleaned the kitchen, and tidied the office. Sometimes all I need is an excuse and some time alone. Presto: clean house!