Hella Stella

Chatting with LC last night before she caught her plane back to Halifax, I demanded she post more news about her wild adventures in university.

"What about YOU?" she shot back. "I need more pictures of Morty. Think about my needs!"

So tonight, after dog park-ing, supper-ing and vote-ing, I will upload some fresh puppy pictures*, as well as some shots of the copious amounts of food I ate this weekend. I fear I ate the equivalent weight of a small child. Still, it was a lovely Thanksgiving. Nice weather, a phone call from The Colombian, and a crapload of sleep. All a girl needs.

Speaking of the vote... While I am relieved this election is drawing to a close, I know it's possible/probable we will have another one soon. I quite like the idea of minority governments aside from that frequent election problem. Booo. Federal politicians, you bore me. Thank goodness I love my current MP and don't have to think too hard about who I want to vote for. Although it's always a bit surreal when the results come in and we're stuck with a whole new set of ministers...

My project for this week is to assemble my new coat rack** and transform my current coat area into a drying area instead. Unless I magically get together the money to buy a dryer, I need to improve my drying rack situation before it threatens to engulf my entire apartment.

Can I share something with you? I am getting very, VERY excited about some projects that are brewing in my mind. Not that I can go into crazy details, because I don't have any, but here are the words that keep bouncing around in my head (note, they are not all for one project. we're mixing and matching here):

drum sequencing
workshop
power tools
shiny new mac
shelving!
small business
gibson
sex

I realize that list may sound a bit random, but someday I will finish my grand plan and share it in its entirety. It's going to be highly attractive.

* Oh! Oh! My mother-in-law bought Morty a shiny purple rain coat and (I'm not kidding here) DOGGY BLING. There is photographic evidence, much to Morty's dismay.
**Yah, I know the site says it's a hat rack, but it's not fooling anybody. Who buys this thing with the sole purpose of hanging their hats? Nobody, that's who.

J tagged me in a meme and I am happy to oblige!

7 things about me (that you may or may not want to know):

1. I hate having a broken or snagged nail. It has nothing to do with the way it looks... It's the way it feels. Even thinking about it makes me shudder... Yuck. Now I've got goosebumps.

2. I am not squeamish around bugs - my first response to a creepy crawly is usually "cooooool!" (this all disappears if I know they bite, so xnay to wasps and hornets)

3. Although I love to travel, I am a total homebody and start to get homesick after two weeks away. Case in point: every trip I've been on.

4. I can sing in Hebrew and I can even do Israeli folk dancing, although I will only demo this whilst drunk.

5. I met Jerry Garcia shortly before he died.

6. One day, I would really like to go here.

7. I currently have a gigantic pounding headache and I want nothing more than to crawl into bed. Oops... I'm not sure that fits into this meme.

I am now supposed to tag seven more people, but this headache has taken hold of my brain and is smooshing it around in my skull. Ever had that kind of headache? Yeah. It makes me want to kill things.

So!

If you have seven things to share, please feel free to scoop up this meme and do naughty things to it. You have my go-ahead.

If you need me, I'll be napping.

It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Way back in July, my BH and I bought our dear friend a subscription to a music magazine. As I was filling out the online order form, I jokingly put in "Sexyface" instead of our friend's real name. We laughed. And then we didn't change it.

Fast forward to yesterday, and our friend never did get his magazine. I had to call the company to sort it out, because they had already charged me for the service they didn't provide. And I had to call from work, because their customer service line was only open during my work hours. So every office somewhat near my desk heard the following one-sided conversation:

"Hi, yes, I ordered a subscription for a friend but it never arrived."

"His last name? It's D____."

"His first name? Can't you just look it up by last name?"

"Fine, it's Sexyface. No, I said Sexyface. Of course that's not his real name! I was just trying to be funny."

"You still can't find it? You want me to what? Oh, Christ. Okay, it's S-E-X-Y-F-A-C-E."

"No? How about I just give you his address...?"

It is now resolved, thank goodness. It's a damn good thing I didn't pick something more offensive, because as many of you know, I often spout these things without thinking.

Tonight my BH and I are going to New France for the first time. Having heard so much about the wild and crazy nights at NF, we are very much looking forward to the outing. Hopefully some of the excitement about ANTM rubs off on us, because we haven't watched television in three months and we are very much out of the loop. I don't think it will be hard. Getting together to watch skinny girls cry sounds awesome to me.

Did you know that it's Thanksgiving this weekend?? Holidays always ALWAYS sneak up on me. I think it comes from working in retail for so long and never getting these days off. I have almost come into work on a holiday at least five times since I started the Office Job. At least I know about this one in advance. As such, I have formulated a plan:

I will eat and drink until my sweetheart has to roll me home (romantic, I know).

Dang... I'm not updating with my usual frequency. Not much is going on, and I don't want to bore you with the tedious "I bought a new toothbrush" and then the "I used my old toothbrush for cleaning" story (even if it's true).

So what am I up to? Big fat nothing. The nights have been chilly, and I bitched about it enough that Megan and Jo kindly told me I could just turn my heat on. Heh. Oops.*

I found my banjo pre-amp stuffed in the back of my mini amplifier. It's been lost since the move this summer and I am relieved that I don't have to buy another one.

We discovered that Morty is a giant chicken shit in the house and a big bully outside of the house. He has also learned how to clean his balls. He discovered this when we had company over.

I read a book on real estate (for women) that was Sexist with a capital S. Did you know that if you have buyer's remorse, it may be because it's your time of the month? Now you know.

Morty and I went for a walk when I was sleepy and I managed to stroll through his poo. Awkward!

That's my week... How are y'all doing?

*Then my BH and I enjoyed Jo's hot buns all night long!

You know what's a bad idea? Staying up until 2am on a weeknight. I am fricking wiped. Everything is blurry and my teeth hurt.

Still, the show at the Black Sheep was great. Rozalind had the whole place decorated by the time I got there - we're talking Christmas lights, pretty material and candles. We had improvised jam sessions with glockenspiels, percussive frogs, accordions, banjos and TWO cellos. Indie films played on a screen behind us. It was a unique experience, and totally fun.

As usual, I couldn't tell if the audience found me offensive or funny, but that didn't stop me from yammering on. One dude came up to me at the end of the show and shook my hand so enthusiastically that I thought he crushed my precious fingers. Erin B. and her hubby came all the way out for the show (thanks!!) and I got some quality hang time with Lucy the Pug. All in all, it was a great way to spend a Thursday evening. It just went a little later than I expected.

And then I didn't wake up to my alarm. Panic in the morning! And Morty was sleeping on my head, which made it hard to see the clock. Excuses, excuses.

"Hi, sorry I'm late... I just had a bulldog on my head is all. The drool had crystallized."

Tomorrow is a big day of parties, all of them wicked, which means I need to sleep sleep sleep tonight. And start drinking early tomorrow. So I can be a real jewel by the evening, of course. I picked up a bottle of hard cider at the farmer's market, which I think will do the trick. I'm also looking forward to Sunday because I get to purchase some functional items from Ikea. Nothing gets me going like functional items...

Speaking of functional - did you see? Jo is on Apartment Therapy! I love that site! GO JO!!

I have no exciting way to end this post. I was thinking about mentioning the election again, but I don't want to trigger a collective groan from all you lovely readers. Shall we think about something nicer? I'll throw out a few ideas:

pumpkins!

knitting!

sexy firemen!

sexy firemen knitting giant pumpkins! during an election!

Ack!! It just keeps coming back...

So! I'm feeling slightly less angry, which is great, because I'm really snarly when I'm mad.

This evening is all about rehearsing with my buddy Rozalind who I'm playing with tomorrow night at the Black Sheep. We're going to collaborate on each others songs like we did on each others records. Swapping flute and banjo. Mmmmm. She's a big dog lover, so I'm excited for her to get here and meet Morty.

I had hoped to bring Morty to this show (because the Sheep is very friendly to bulldogs), but someone would need to watch him constantly and that's not something I'm willing to burden anyone with. Besides, he's scared of instruments. And we'd be at a music venue. There will be at least two cellos, one banjo, several flutes and two guitars.

I can just imagine the carnage.

Yesterday, as I was jotting down a(nother) list of my life's goals,* I was surprised to see myself write "start playing tennis."

I played tennis when I was in Jew camp as a child. I loved it, but when I left that camp I also left behind the only tennis courts I had easy access to. Sports in general aren't something I get excited about, but I still daydream about being able to play tennis again. I guess that's why it popped up on the list. Maybe I'll start scoping out tennis courts in Centretown. Anyone have suggestions? Anyone a closet tennis player?

Funny random thing: I bumped into a friend on the way home who was asking about Morty. Most people don't know much about the strange quirks of bulldogs, but I couldn't help but giggle when she said, "Do you take him to the dog park? Oh, wait, let me guess. He doesn't like to walk that far."

And you know what? He doesn't.

*Laugh all you want, but I would be wandering around in circles if it weren't for my lists.