Hella Stella

To prepare for last week's visiting newborn, I did some cleaning around the apartment.* Namely, the one spot that seems to always be messy: my music collection.

I have a lot of CDs. I'm one of those weird few who really loves CDs and prefers them to all other formats, including vinyl (although I do love me some vinyl...). MP3s don't cut it for me, and I use them only out of convenience on my Creative Zen. I don't stream music from my laptop either, for many reasons that are too long-winded to go into here. Cassettes, well, other than sentimental attachment, I don't use them for *actual* listening anymore. But CDs? I love them. I still buy them regularly and will probably keep it up until they stop being made.

For a while now, I thought I had about 500 CDs. Not that I could remember the last time I counted, but that seemed like a good number. As I went through my collection, filing, dusting and categorizing, I wondered if perhaps I had counted wrong. There seemed to be a lot more than I remembered.

I also began noticing that we had a lot of doubles, since we hadn't gone through our music when my BH and I moved in together. We just amalgamated our stash. Needless to say, we both liked a lot of the same music (minus the extensive amount of Pearl Jam I found myself sorting through....). I grabbed a big basket and started chucking in the albums that were either doubles, or that we weren't going to listen to anymore. There were about 50 by the time I was done.

Plus an additional 650 or so CDs we were keeping.

"Christ," I thought. "No wonder it's been so messy. I've been avoiding sorting and alphabetizing 700 CDs."

But now it is done, and I find myself patting my shelves of music lovingly, instead of glaring at them when I walk past. It's a relaxing feeling.

Guess who's done his final exams? My BH! I am So. Freaking. Psyched. I realize he's not out of the woods yet, but it brings us one step closer to the eventual end of his degree, and into the wonderful world of two incomes. It's going to be sexy!

Tonight is also a special night. We decided that instead of giving gifts to our little posse of friends, we would all meet up for a big dinner somewhere and enjoy each other's company. Tonight is the big event - food, booze, and the hilarity that comes with a large group of drunken pals. EXCITING.

I'm also getting excited about all my old friends who are coming into town. Maybe that's the best part of the holidays... Catching up, laughing, and getting mildly boozed.

And then drunkenly cuddling Morty until he gets flatulent.


*I realize the newborn doesn't give two shits about what the apartment looks like, but it was as good an excuse as any.

This is Christmas wrap-up week, where I need to finish any leftover seasonal chores before it's too late.

Today is a busy one: sending Christmas cards, picking up my last two gifts, and getting some ingredients for making toffee with my BH's little brother.

Guess what else is sneaking up on me? Hannukah! Yup, we celebrate both Christmas and Hannukah* in our household. This year, we have the added bonus of having a Jewish English bulldog in the family (his name is Mordichai, after all), so it's only fitting that he learn the Hannukah prayers. Hopefully he won't get too close to the menorah, like my cat did the year she set her tail on fire (true story, unfortch, but she was fine).

I'd like to make a Hannukah meal this year as well. I'm thinking matso ball soup, kishkah, apple cider challah**, and hopefully a new dish of some sort. My BH likes Jewish food even more than I do, so I know it will be appreciated. I swear he was a Jew in a former life.

Also, my Muppet's Christmas Carol soundtrack arrived in the mail yesterday, which I only ordered because the X-Box we use for DVDs doesn't read the actual movie. This is the next best thing.

Hope you're all enjoying the season in whatever way you choose!

*I know... There are five hundred million spellings for this holiday. This is the one I've always used, and I'm cool with it.
**Spell check hates me today.

We started giving Morty baths when he was a teeny puppy because we figured it would get him used to the process early on. We didn't want a giant bulldog who hates water trying to weasel his way out of a washing down the road, especially considering how often Morty manages to stroll through his own poo. Can you imagine a big, wet, panicky bulldog who is covered in feces trying to charge out of the bathroom? Yeah. Not what we wanted.

Generally, early bathing was a great idea. He now loves baths. He hops right in when I point to the tub, and he sits in the water quite happily until I'm all done washing him off.

But things have started getting out of hand. See, Morty has fallen in love with the bath. Big time.

I first noticed it this past month when I took my morning showers. If Morty was up, he'd sneak into the bathroom and paw at the shower curtain, whimpering because he couldn't come in. He does this without fail every morning, and he occasionally is bold enough to plant his front paws in the actual tub. I have to tell him "no!" and push him out of the room.

Last week, my BH was in the tub while I was out for the evening. Morty came into the bathroom (the door doesn't close very well, and he knows how to nudge it open) and pawed at the water. My BH patted him on the head and kept reading his book. Morty took that as a positive sign and jumped into the bath, nearly scaring the bejeezus out of my BH and coming dangerously close to genital-crushing territory. Bath time was over, and my BH was stuck drying off our crazy dog.

Yesterday evening, all I wanted was a bath. I was chilly and tired, and the thought of slipping into a warm tub was tempting. I turned on the water and went to the kitchen to tidy up.

Guess who was sitting in my nice bath when I got back? Yes, Morty had hopped in, putting his muddy paws in my precious warm water, effectively ruining my chances of having a relaxing soak. I let the water out of the bath and waited for him to hop out, but instead he stretched out and prepared to take a nap. I eventually wrestled him out with promises of peanut butter treats.

The good news in all of this? Morty smells like roses nearly all the time.

The bad news? Well, you just try having a 50 pound bullie do a flying leap onto your downstairs. That is some scary shit.

I had a freaking great weekend.

Friday night: Debauchery with Andi, setting up her tree, drinking, slept on futon with my BH and Morty. Big tasty breakfast next day that involved fresh croissants.

Saturday: Bought new boots after driving in shitty weather with a rickety car. Bailed on evening plans so that I would not crash and die. Did laundry. Ogled new boots.

Sunday: HUNG OUT WITH A NEWBORN BABY! Oh man oh man, was she ever cute. Morty didn't understand why she was screaming and barked to compete. Spent the rest of the visit in the bedroom. Oh man oh man, that was a cute baby. Later, went to Raw Sugar and bought a broom at Hartman's. Finished evening with a romantic Harry Potter date on the couch. Well, romantic until my BH fell asleep, so for about 20 minutes. I tried to get Morty to cuddle with me, but I guess he doesn't like Harry Potter.... He refused to come out of his crate. I WILL WATCH HARRY POTTER ALONE, SUCKERS. Harry loves me.

Perhaps the above doesn't seem that exciting to the untrained eye, but I call it a pretty excellent weekend in my books. I've just been feeling so dang GOOD lately. Probably something to do with getting proper sleep and finally breaking out my fantastic fleece sheets. Cosy. Warm. Fleecy.

YEAH!

On a completely unrelated note, I seem to have lost the ability to fry an egg. I don't know how one loses such a skill, but I'm telling you - it's gone. I'll have to stick to scrambling until it comes back to me.

Last night was my staff Christmas party. It was way, way more fun than I expected.

At my previous job, the Christmas parties were awkward and stiff, and everyone sat around checking their Blackberries. The tickets were expensive and the food sucked. People couldn't wait to leave.

After last night, however, I now believe you can judge the character of a workplace by their Christmas parties. The food was good, the alcohol was better, and the entertainment portion of the evening was ACTUALLY ENTERTAINING. Yes, I was coerced into singing a duet with my boss, and yes, it ended up being a U2 song. Still, we had a good time and I got to play a kazoo solo. I can't even make this stuff up.

Other than feeling a little rough around the edges this morning, I am quite happy I didn't cop out like last year.*

This evening: watching Muppet's Christmas Carol, getting drunk, eating salad, crashing at a friend's. YES.

*In my defence, I missed last year's Christmas party completely by accident. I went to get my hair cut after work, and because I was at a fancy spa, they gave me glasses of white wine all through the dying/washing/cutting process. Two hours later, I was drunk as hell and wandering around downtown, trying to figure out how to get myself to the party venue. I eventually cut my losses and went home.

We occasionally let Morty sleep in our bed. He is crate trained, and doesn't mind staying there at night, but really? Sometimes it's fun having him snuggle my feet while I sleep.

Except for last night. Instead of resuming his usual place at my feet, Morty CLUNG to my face all night. He didn't just sleep on my pillow, he rested his chin on my forehead, kicked me in the eye, and snored into my ear. He would rearrange occasionally so that his bum was pressed against my cheek. Bad things come out of that bum.

I slept terribly.

At any rate, I'm a zombie today and will try to make it through without any mishaps. Part of what will carry me forward is the knowledge that I am attending a bulldog party tonight. I CAN'T WAIT.

In other news: the tree is decorated and the presents are wrapped. I can barely believe it. I figured wrapping the gifts would prohibit my BH from finding his presents while tidying the house. Morty was scared shitless of the wrapping paper and cowered in the hallway as I worked. Milan and Emily stopped by before I had a chance to clean up the carnage of gift wrap, so they had to sit on the floor while I put everything away. Yes, I am a great hostess. In my defence, working at a specialty paper store for three years makes gift wrapping a serious job. You need the right ribbon, the right tape, the right weight of paper, the right gift cards.... Heather, you've got my back on this one, right?

I digress. Basically, when I wrap gifts, things get messy. Thankfully, they brought wine, and I soon forgot about gift wrapping and Christmas all together.

Seems to me I had something intelligent to say here, but my brain is broken.

I... Yeah.

I'm torn about the possibility of an OC Transpo strike.

I admit that when it comes to striking, I usually assume that the employer is being unreasonable and that the workers are getting screwed. While I see a bit of that in the case of OC Transpo, I mostly find their demands, well, insane. Especially considering the cost of bus fare, and how it keeps going up and up.

So, yeah, torn. Particularly when I think about the long walk into work I'll be making tomorrow. Made longer by construction and detours. And possible freezing rain. At the same time, my bus rides have been sucking anyways, so maybe this will be a fun adventure!*

Next week is my last full week of work before I get my holiday on. I am SO relieved. I could probably spend an entire week alternating between the kitchen and snuggling Morty and that would be just fine with me. Morty has been so cuddly since it got colder... He actually lays his head right over my neck when I am napping and practically purrs while he sleeps. While that makes it hard to breathe, it's also really fracking cute. I'll take cute over breathing comfortably for now.

Hiding my BH's Christmas presents is getting increasingly difficult. This is partly due to the layout of the apartment, but also due to the fact that he usually picks up the mail every day. This includes any mysterious packages that come to the house. Bearing company names. And basic product descriptions. BOOOOO.

Regardless. I will just have to deal, because I'm the one who decided to order everything online. I also have one last gift to grab, and it's from a local shop so there is no danger of package spoilers.

My final thought for the day: It's been a while since I bought myself a bottle of Bailey's, so I decided to indulge last week. Did you know that it's not meant to be consumed by the mugful? Who knew...

*DOUBTFUL.