Hella Stella

1. Although I was worried about Morty swallowing an entire bullwinkle, he seems to be fine, and has in fact just swallowed a SECOND bullwinkle despite me sticking my fingers in his mouth to fish it out. You can do the math and determine that yes, I did just touch a slimy bull penis.

2. We have finished packing the kitchen and main floor and are moving on to the rest of the house. We are donating more crap than I ever thought possible. Since we won't have internet hooked up right away when we move (7-10 business days! Egads!), it may be a while until I can post again. Speaking of internet....

3. Fucking Primus. I have been on hold with them for an hour already, and I am starting to feel stabby. Who knew that giving a company my money could be so hard? They keep insisting I give them my account number even though I'm just trying to sign up for services. I don't have an account number yet! It would be great if you could give me one! Holy crap, guys.*

4. I am going to miss my house something fierce. There are froggies in the backyard and peony bushes everywhere. There are big green spaces and familiar streets. But at my new place, I can throw a rock and hit at least one restaurant, so I'm a happy girl. I'm gonna eat myself stupid.

5. There is no fifth thing.**

*Although I did giggle when I asked for information about their products and they said "Yes, we will be happy to educate you." And then we got to chatting about my travels in Mumbai because of course, their call centre is based there. God I miss the food.
**That's a lie. Rasputin's is closing and Dean is retiring. I am very sad about the whole thing.

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.

Woooot! The surprise went over very well. We are going to see Wicked at the NAC at the end of the summer. The excitement!

Those of you on the Rasputin's mailing list probably just got the update about the recent fire. Dean said he has a few options: retire, relax while the renos happen, sell the business, start a new restaurant. I still find the whole situation so surreal. Do we know yet if they arrested anyone for arson?

Morty has his last puppy class this coming Sunday. He has quite enjoyed playing with all the doggies, and he has become a favourite with our instructor because of his goofy personality. Of course, there have been some glitches... Like the fact that Morty makes scary growling sounds when he plays. He's not actually growling, he's just trying to breathe. I call them his gremlin noises, and the class knows now that he's just trying to be friendly. Poor little guy. There's also the fact that during his final class, he will be set up for failure. The instructors are holding a "weenie challenge" (hee hee) where each pup will have a hot dog placed in front of them, and they have to run to their owners instead of grabbing the hot dog. HAH! Fat fucking chance. My dog never refuses food. Ever. He's gonna grab that weenie before I can even say his name. I'll be all, "Mordich...." and he'll be all, "CHOMP."

I feel like I'm coming down with something. My throat is scratchy and it's hard to breathe. Maybe an allergy? Damn well hope not. My lungs are itching.

Some things I still have to take care of:

canceling my bills
address forwarding
find a baby gate
pack up craft room aka repository for junk
go through kitchen and use up food I don't want to bring with me

Oy.

It's finally reached the point where I have trouble picking Morty up. I used to be able to carry him around with one hand. Now he feels like a giant sack of wriggly potatoes. Potatoes with gas. But still so cute!

Several good things happened this weekend.

First: I bought a fancy-ass padded push-up bra. It's the only real bra I own, since I have always been satisfied with my Zellers sports bras up until now. You know what's surprising? I really like this expensive boob contraption. It's comfortable and does fabulous things to my rack. I may have to go buy a second one. Imagine! My own collection of fancy push-up thingies! Who'd a thunk it?

I also got a lot of packing done. All my shirts and sweaters, minus the ones I want to wear to work. My hand towels and face cloths. My bathroom products, minus the ones I use regularly. Then I categorized all the boxes in the front room. They are grouped by eventual location (front room, bedroom, basement, kitchen etc.) and colour coded with labels. Now I know the contents of each box, as well as the room it belongs to. Most excellent.

(It was during this process that I discovered Morty's insane fear of packing tape...)

All the details about the piano purchase have been sorted out. We really own a piano. Ironically, I always hated piano lessons and failed miserably at learning the instrument each time I tried. Good thing I'm not a quitter. And good thing I have friends who can play it in case I decide to cut my losses and never touch it again. I've always got the banjo to fall back on.

I have a surprise planned for my BH tonight. I've been feeling all sorts of romantical, and I decided to take the plunge and get him a nice gift. Saturday, I got him fresh local flowers. Today? Wish I could say....

Did anyone else get woken up by that crazy thunder storm last night? Holy shitballs.

It wasn't even the thunder that jolted me awake... It was the lightening. My entire room lit up, Adams Family style. Morty looked mildly spooked, but he went back to sleep long before I did. My Better Half woke up, gave me some little kisses, and passed out again. Mmmm, the cute.

We had some friends over for dinner, and the whole evening reminded me that I've got to start taking the time to cook again. I feel like I've fallen off the wagon this past week or two. A lot of fried foods, not enough veggies. Quick breakfasts, cereal for dinner. This supper was a welcome change; polenta lasagna, veggie chili, fresh salad, baguette, stuffed mushroom caps, and apple/strawberry crumble for dessert. Fuck, it was good.

I wrote a test yesterday which had me typing for a solid three hours. It was exhausting, and the room was fucking FREEZING (are people learning nothing from those handy David Suzuki commercials?) but I am relieved it's done.

Packing is... Coming along, I guess. My BH is doing 90% of the work, mostly because he spends a chunk of his days at home while I'm on the job. By the time I get back, I want to eat and pass out (with an obvious break to get drooled on by Morty). I'm hoping to get in the moving groove soon. Seeing as how I only have two weeks left.

Oh, Christ, I only have two weeks left.