Keep your head up, kid

Hockey player nicknames really irk me sometimes.

Nabby.  Stammer.  Ovie.  Stumpy.  Gomer.  Gonch.  Kaner.  Tanger. 

Makes them sound like they need to wear helmets off the ice, too.

My sport's better than your sport

My beau is at the Blue Jays game tonight, which is kind of hilarious, not just because he doesn't like baseball but because it's a 2-0 game in the bottom of the ninth so it was likely more boring than baseball games generally are.  And while I'm quite glad that I'm not there, it does seem ironic (I think it's ironic) that he's at the game with a ticket on his company's tab while the company I work for owns the Blue Jays and I've never gotten free tickets.

Like I said, though, I'm glad I'm not there because I got to spend the night in front of game 7 between Montreal and Washington, which was a very exciting and tense Montreal victory.  Really, I'd be quite happy if the NHL just did away with the regular season and ran the playoffs four times a year.  It's such better hockey. 

On to round two!

Place your bets

I love hockey but holy crap, am I ever terrible at hockey pools. 

Every hockey pool I have ever entered I have lost and lost hugely.  It's not like I came in second in a winner-takes-all pool; oh no, I am consistently at the bottom.  Right now, I am 33rd out of 38 in my playoff pool. 

Despite my abysmal record, I look forward to each new hockey season and especially the playoffs because, who knows, maybe THIS will be my year.  I mean, someone has to win so why not me, right?  Well, not me because I always make the worst picks.  Honestly, did anyone expect New Jersey to lose in the first round, in five games no less?  And who would have thought San Jose would finally advance beyond the first round?  It's almost unheard of. 

I've won football pools in the past, which is awesome because I know nothing about football.  One of these days I will win a hockey pool.  One of these days...

One small problem

I know what my problem is: I am lazy.  There are so many things that I could have completed by now - written that novel, knitted that sweater, lost that weight, organized that yarn - but I'm lazy.  There is no other excuse. 


I have no problem doing things when I have to do them.  I get my work done on time and I clean before company comes over and I can finish a crossword puzzle like no one's business.  But if I don't have a time line, if I don't have to get something done, if I don't really REALLY want to do something, then I just...don't. 


I could say it's because I just want to stretch things out, make them last longer, have more time to enjoy them.  But no.  It's because I'm lazy, simple as that.

I'm not sure what the second line says; I just like the kitty.

Some will tell you toughen up, but this old life is all you've got

Hawksley Workman tonight!  Massey Hall!  Hurrah!

Remember Scott Baio?

I'm too young for Joanie Loves Chachi and I never watched Charles in Charge, so I have no real nostalgia Scott Baio.  Therefore, I don't feel bad when I say I think he's a whack job.

But you know what else?

Scott Baio ruins everything.

Just another day

Hm.  I'm not very good at this blogging-everyday-thing, am I?  Le sigh.  The sad reality is that my life is nowhere near exciting enough to make daily blogging interesting to anyone.  And despite being opinionated and, erm, passionate (okay, rant-y) about many things, I often just don't feel like typing about it.  There's something much more satisfying in ranting, I must say.

And the past few days have been uneventful at best.  I'm sick and the beau is sick so there has been lots of couch time.  I think I might have allergies, though, and I must say, they suck.  The weekend was a bit of a write-off because of this but it did mean watching lots of Fringe and Casino Royale and Pandorum.

(Do you watch Fringe?  No?  Well, you should, if for no other reason than Pacey is all grown up.  But for true, it's a whole lot of awesome.)

We're also trying to teach the kitty to use a scratching post, to help keep her nails from getting out of control.  To do this, we have resorted to bribery.  One of us will take her to the scratching post and show her how to do it; she generally squirms and looks pleadingly at the one who is not dragging her paws across the carpet.  After we show her how to do it, we give her a treat to reinforce the idea: scratch the post, get a nom-nom treat.  She's kind of catching on; she has taken to sitting on the base of the scratching post and looking intently at us, wondering where her treat is.  Good thing she's cute.

Other than that, life in the west end keeps on going.  Holy crap, I need more exciting hobbies.

I spel good

It is "believe" not "beleave".

It is "soleil" not "solet".

It is "definitely" not "definately".

It is "you're not" not "your not".

It is "Seymour Butts" not "Semour Buts".

It is "shriek" not "shreek".

Sometimes Facebook makes me irrationally angry.

It's the most wonderful time of the year

It's that time again - STANLEY CUP PLAYOFFS!

Only the greatest time of the year, of course.  The next two months will be filled with all things hockey that matters - and no Maple Leafs!  (It's the little things that matter.) 

Round one started tonight and I'm currently flipping between Ottawa-Pittsburgh and New Jersey-Philadelphia and I'm already fed up with the commentators.  Last year, I got through a few rounds before I reached my limit; this year I couldn't even get through the first period.  So far, CBC is worse than TSN but give it time, my friends, give it time.

I really do love the first round best, though.  All 16 teams are still in it and any team could go all the way (even though you know, deep down, that Colorado and Los Angeles don't stand a chance).  I find the series in the first round are more likely to go six or seven games and the match-ups are much more exciting.  That, and there are eight different series to pay attention to, which is almost (almost) more than I can handle. 

It's also pretty great that our lovely 700-sq foot condo contains two 42" flat screen TVs; that means the beau can play video games in the living room while I curl up in bed and sporadically yell at the Penguins and Senator and Devils and Flyers. 

It's good to be me.

Kitty is curious

I'm tired tonight and possibly fighting off a cold and full of the Monday blahs so here's a picture of the kitty.  She's all curious about the great outdoors.

We want to get a harness for her so we can take her out on the balcony once the weather gets nice and she can enjoy the outside but still be safe.  I also want to take her for walks in the grassy areas behind our building.  I see nothing wrong with taking the cat for a walk. 

Two days good, five days bad

Here we are, on another Sunday night.  I don't care how trite or cliche it might sound, but I'm still amazed at how fast the weekend goes and I would really like another day off.

But it was a good and busy weekend that included a birthday shindig for which the beau and I made a strawberries'n'cream cheesecake, complete with Batman symbol; the beau and I learned that our kitty loves tuna water, which means we can dissolve her kitty antibiotics in it, rather than shove horse pills down her throat twice a day; a lazy Sunday spent (re)watching season one of Fringe - this time on blu-ray and it's awesome and everyone should watch Fringe - and eating way too much Chinese food; and singing ridiculous made-up songs about the kitty (and suggesting I get my own variety show because the songs are so great).

And that's it, really.  Now for another work week!

Was that really necessary?

Word of the day: re-dun-dant (adjective) Being in excess; exceeding what is usual or natural.

When I moved in with the man, I moved into his condo and his condo comes with a gym.  I knew I'd end up canceling my Fitness One membership because - really - who wants to lug gym clothes to work then to the gym after work, then work out and shower and get home super late, when there is a lovely gym to use four floors below one's home? 

However, I dragged my feet a bit with the cancellation and finally got around to it this past week.  I stopped by on Tuesday and this is how the exchange went:

Me: "Hi.  I need to cancel my membership."
Guy behind desk: "Do you have an appointment?"
Me: "No.  I need an appointment to cancel my membership?"
Guy: "Yes.  How about Thursday?"
Me: "Sure."
Guy: "Okay, how about 5:45 pm?"
Me: "Yes, thanks."

(I feel I should point out that Fitness One is an all-women's gym.  The guy working behind the desk on that day is also a trainer but there is also this other dude who always walks around with his blue tooth headset and ill-fitting jeans on and I laugh at him on the inside.)

So I made my appointment, which felt unnecessary but I figured they would want to ask why I was leaving, what was good about the gym, what could be improved, kind of like an exit interview.  I mean, why else would I need an appointment?

I dutifully went back on Thursday and got there about 5:47.  I told the woman behind the desk I had an appointment at 5:45 to cancel my membership.  She seemed a little unsure what to do and muttered something to the affect of, "I'm not sure where...you're a couple minutes...I guess you're not late.  Let me see who's available because I don't do cancellations."

I was once 20 minutes late for a doctor's appointment and they still had time to see me; the idea that my gym would reject me for two minutes of tardiness was momentarily mind-boggling, but since they didn't turn me away all was good.

Now, I was expecting the gym owner or manager or someone to come out and talk to me but who should appear but...the same dude who told I had spoken with on Tuesday.  And what did he do to cancel my membership?  He pulled out a sheet of paper, filled it out and had me sign it.  It took approximately 42 SECONDS to cancel my membership.  And I couldn't have done that two days ago?!?!?  Holyfuckingshit, are you SERIOUS?  Yeesh.

Oh, and the dude had bad breath. 

In the words of Tigger, ridickerous.

The heart does break

I have 271 friends on Facebook and one of them is dead.
It still freaks me out whenever I see him on the left side of the screen of my profile, where Facebook shows you a few of your friends.  But every time I see him there I have to click on his profile and it breaks my heart a little bit to see the loving posts still accumulating on his wall, especially from his girlfriend.

I don't know what I would do or how I would react if someone I loved died suddenly but an online presence remained, always there somewhere, reminding me of happier times.

It really is a heartbreaking thought.

My intolerable intolerance

Word of the day: in-tol-er-ant (adjective) Unable or unwilling to tolerate or endure.

I think I'm lactose intolerant. 

For as long as I can remember, I've had a disagreeable tummy.  It felt that almost everything I ate would leave me feeling yucky and uncomfortable and desiring drawstring pants.  I just figured I was prone to heartburn or indigestion or something; then, this past Monday, I had a bagel with cream cheese for breakfast and felt all gross until around 3pm.  (I'm purposely not going into my specific symptoms because no one really needs to know that.)

Thankfully, the internet is available on computers now, so with the help of the always trustworthy Google, I was able to self-diagnose pretty quickly.  While it's not confirmed, I do hope to figure out if I do have a problem with dairy.  And if I do, while I will miss chocolate, it will be great to finally know why my tummy is so ornery sometimes. 

Yes, I know I can take Lactaid and other such supplements but not being able to eat things like chocolate, cream sauces, mayo, butter, cheese and the like will help me to get in shape so I'll save the supplements for those special times when I must have lasagna or butter chicken. 

Thankfully, amazingly, wonderfully, milk in my coffee doesn't seem to upset me.  Sometimes it's the small things that really help with the big things.

The man at Sherbourne station

"Thursday," said my newsstand man, smiling at me.

I don't know his name, but I see him twice a day at Sherbourne subway station, in the morning on my way to work and in the evening on my way home.  He's always there, smiling, chatting up the customers, and always keeping an eye on things - so much so that I once saw him chastise and stop a would-be shoplifter while barely breaking his conversation with me.

He was there, of course, when I started working for Rogers a year and a half ago; that was when I started buying my Glamour magazines from him.  And even though I would only buy one thing from him a month (sometimes two, if a particularly bad day required chocolate) he remembered me.  When Flare published its 30th anniversary issue last September, he pointed it out to me, one of his "best customers".  I had been thinking of subscribing to Glamour again but after he said that, I knew I would keep buying my magazine from him.

Now, he not only tells me when the magazine will be in but he keeps one behind the counter for me because he only gets three or four copies and sometimes there is only one left by the end of the day, when I'm there to buy it.  He doesn't know my name either but he knows me and he knows I'll be there for my magazine, so he keeps one for me.  And I will always stop by to pick it up.

Blargh

I don't like blogging when I'm in a bad mood because I don't want to just vent on my blog because no one really wants to read that.

So I will just leave it there.

Suddenly it's Sunday night

Oops.  Missed a post yesterday; I just didn't have a chance to jump on the computer at Mom's and I don't like to travel with my laptop (or more technology than my iPod, really) because I generally travel to get away from all that stuff.

Anyways...it is now Sunday night and Easter weekend is over but, more sadly, my week-long vacation is over.  I'd like to say that a week off is just enough to refresh me and that I'm ready to go back to work, but that would be a lie.  Not only would I be content to have another week off, I would be just fine with retiring.  Now.  Too bad my RRSPs would allow for about a month of retirement living before the funds would run out.  So back to work I will go.

I'm also pretty wiped tonight, despite the fact that I didn't do much today except eat.  I guess my body is just so busy digesting all the amazing food I ate this weekend that it doesn't have energy for much else. 

On the plus side, this beautiful weather is going to continue through the week.  Too early for spring skirts?  I think not!  Ooh, and sandals - I love my sandals!  Even in tomorrow's rain.  That's enough to lift my spirits, even just a little.

Here comes Peter Cottontail

Right after I decided on this blog-everyday thing, I realized that this is a long weekend and a holiday weekend, so I'll be out of the city for a couple of days.  Hopefully I'll be able to squeeze in a post at Mom's on Saturday.

But anyways, it's that hoppity hop holiday, full of ham and chocolate and lilies and family and such.  It's also the first joint holiday since the beau and I shacked up.  Sure, we had Thanksgiving and Christmas last year but that was different; we were still living solo...and I guess that makes it different somehow.  I will say one thing for it: since the beau has a car, NO MORE BUS.  I can't even begin to tell you how exciting it is to not have to take that damnable Ontario Northland milk run from downtown Toronto to Yorkdale to Barrie to Port Severn to Coldwater to Mactier to Parry Sound. 


I shudder just thinking about it. 


We're off in the morning, first to Parry Sound for the night to see my family and then to Midland for the night to see the beau's family.  The weather is going to be beautiful, there will be lots of food and even some babies (BABIES!) and some good ol' family time.  Should be all right.


Happy Easter!

Let's see how this works out for me

Word of the day: chal-lenge (noun) A call or summons to engage in any contest, as of skill, strength, etc.

Can I blog every day for 30 days?  Why, that seems like a challenge!  I like a good challenge, even though this is the kind of challenge I'm likely to fail out on.

(The kind of challenge I win at?  "Can you eat that entire container of chocolate-covered almonds?"  Why yes, yes I can.)

So I've decided (about thirty seconds ago) that I'm going to try and blog every day this month.  This is what happens when one is waiting for the beau to get out of the shower before going for hangover fast food goodness.

Warning: future blog posts may contain nothing of consequence, interest or even coherence.  There may also be myriad postings about the kitty.  Oh, and a blog post containing nothing but a picture also counts.