Scary bananas

Orange and I went to see Paranormal Activity on Friday night.

Um.

Yeah.

I spent the majority of the movie with my fingers in my ears (when I get scared I plug my ears... strange, I know...) and the rest of it with my eyes shut. In between the ear plugging and eye shutting I furiously shovelled in handfuls of popcorn before scariness hit the screen again, leaving time to pull my feet up off the ground and get in the fingers-in-ear position.

I was planning on linking to the preview, but even the thought of Googling Paranormal Activity got my heart beat-beat-beating. So do it yourself...

Definitely worth the $5 cheap theatre ticket price (although Orange said my ticket was a waste of money because the only thing I really watched was the previews.)

I was treated to a charity auction tonight.

So fun!

I used to help with this auction when I was a kid--collecting bid sheets for the silent auction, acting as a runner for the live auction, and general grunt work--but this was my first time attending as a full fledged adult with a full fledged Visa card and access to the free table wine. Yes, yes, and yes. So I got myself all "did up", packed my cheque book in my fancy purse, and worked my clickity clack heels out to the car.

First up, the silent auction, where I lost out on a carpet sweeper, a tub full of chocolate and candy, a spa package (I was bidding on it for Fingers because I knew she liked the place...) and a three month membership to a local gym. Poo.

But! 'Tis a silver lining to my little black raincloud...

... I won two tickets to Medieval Times Dinner and Tournament! W00t!

*pats self on back*

Next up, dinner. And everything was mini. Mini cheeseburgers, mini fries, mini turkey dinners, mini pizza... Needless to say, I sampled a little bit of everything, including the free chocolate candy cane martinis and the chocolate fountain with l'ananas and mini cookies (of course). Fancy people in fancy dress eating plates and plates full of fancy mini onion rings. Awesome.

The live auction was next, and 'twas a bit of a bust for me. But I wasn't really in the market or a home renovation, Leafs tickets, nor dinner at Queen's Park with the MPP (wtf?) But they seemed to do pretty well, and more than one lonely soul bid on a night out with the fire department calendar men... Would you believe someone paid $1000 for that?

All in all, I had a blast. Did I need two tickets to Medieval Times? No. But I did at 8:43 pm tonight with only 2 minutes left to bid, and a flurry of people behind me pushing to get to the table (no doubt they were all competing for the designer one-cup cappuccino maker next to my Medieval Times prize, but still... I had to defend my territory...)

What can I say? The adrenaline got to me...

*psst*...

... We lost our semi-final match in dodgeball last night, so Captain Awesome and the Awesome Express is officially done for the season.

...

...

*shifty eyes*

...

*whispers*

I couldn't be happier...

Seriously. The worst losers of all time. I enjoy myself a win or two, but I haven't name called, stomped and kicked, or argued with a ref since grade school. I think they were glad to see Fingers and I go, because we were the only two who were all "yay team spirit" while they spit nails at our inability to dodge, duck, dip, dive and dodge. Meh. I'm not loosing any sleep over it. I think I'm offish retiring my dodgeball gloves.

p.s. Sit down, Carl Wolf.

Oh. My. Ehn.

Boot camp has been over for a week or so now, and with the exception of moving between the couch and the kitchen and some weekend Christmas shopping mall walking, I haven't really done much, "physically speaking." Making the decision to run Around the Bay requires a commitment to a 30km training regime, so I seriously need to kick my butters into high gear.

So a friend and I decided we'd motivate each other. Getting back into the early morning groove, we decided we'd get our training out of the way first thing in the a.m. This translates to meeting at 5:30 am for a 12 km run three times a week with increasing mileage every week...

Yeah.

So.

Fingers will tell you I'm not a morning person (unless it's a Sunday morning, and I get to sleep in, and go for breakfast at Rays with Orange for poached eggs--soft--eaten over the latest View Magazine), so I'm not exactly sure what possessed me to agree to this madness. The Gestapo my friend, on the other hand, is permanently peppy, which is is a really good thing and I'm certainly not faulting her for that (in fact, I admire it...) Except at 5:30 in the morning when I'm carrying 10lbs of bloat, and it's misty and foggy, and I've only had 5 hours of sleep, and I haven't eaten, and my ankle hurts, and I only have 3 Kleenexes and I've already used one just running to my friend's house, and I still have 11km to go... (and for the record, Gestapo friend, these aren't excuses... I was a walking/talking hot dog at 5:30 am...)

I hated everything this morning, including myself, running in general, my friend's dog, my iPod play list, the guy I passed on my way out who was on his way in, my pajamas for being warm and cozy, the length of my friend's legs in comparison to my own stumpy peg substitutes... Ugh. I especially loved it when she stopped to do tricep dips while I caught up after lagging behind 99% of the run (the only time I sped ahead was when she stopped to pick up her dog's poo... *thumbs up*)

Needles to say, I'm not gagging to get back on the horse. I'm scheduled to get my @ss kicked meet my friend Thursday morning. Here's hoping I can get my butters in better gear before then. Because "feeling the shame" (to quote Slapshot) twice in one week does nothing for one's self esteem. I might as well be lapped by another unicycle...

Dear Santa:

How are you? Well, I hope. I'm told global warming has upped the temperature your way which must make those long winter nights more bearable, hmm? Has Atkins reached the North Pole yet? If so, I would be happy to offer you a smoothie or protein bar on the big night rather than the standard sweets platter. Think about it; let me know.

It's been awhile since you last heard from me, but that doesn't mean I haven't thought of you often. Every day, in fact. I'm always trying to live like a good girl--I say excuse me when squeezing past the other ladies in the narrow Winners aisles, I eat all my vegetables (including the brussel sprouts and beans), I've played nicely with my sister, and I like to think I've been a good sport (see: 8/31/2009).

As such, I have a few items on my list this holiday season. The obvious request isn't really your territory, so I won't bother asking. But I will ask if you have any connections up there, could you be a pal and pass on a message? Tell him I said "hi" and ask him if in heaven if they have roast beef dinners on Sundays.

Second, I'd like to ask that we keep the snow in So'Oh to a minimum. That isn't to say a white Christmas wouldn't be nice, but parking around my apartment has reached capacity and I'm concerned what snow windrows would do to the already desperate situation. A sprinkle here and there for looks, crunching boots, and pretty views from my windows is fine. And I'm not opposed to more the Ellicottville way for the New Years ski trip. But that's IT. Seriously, Santa. I mean it.

Third, I'd like to lose my muffin top.

Fourth, if in your travels you come across self-cleaning kitty litter, I'm your girl.

Fifth (and this is a big one), I'd like to win the Lotto Max. I'm not trying to be greedy, but I really think I deserve it, and you can count on me to share the wealth. Cheeseburger Happy Meals for everyone!

Finally, if the Lotto Max isn't an option, I'd like a set of dachshund pillows. Random, I know. But if I can't have him, a mild deep freeze, -10lbs, less poo, and approximately $45 million, dachshund pillows are a nice alternative.

My best to the wife and elves little people.

Sincerely,
LL

Let's celebrate Bert, shall we?

One year ago today his over sized paws came into my life, and we haven't looked back since. His penchant for fluid mechanics, room decor (or relocating the toilet paper rolls to other places in the house), and partying hard (read: going loco over plastic springs and talking to the bathtub) have cheered me these last 12 months.

Three cheers for Bert:

Hip hip meow!
Hip hip meow!
Hip hip meow!

So...

... I'm thinking about doing the Around the Bay race...?

My friend Nina more or less floated the challenge out there, and after talking with Boot Camp Man and realizing I've got 19+ weeks, I think it's doable. My understanding is the hardest part of the entire event is the training in anticipation of.... Well, that and the weather, which is totally unpredictable at that time of year... And then there's the fact the last half of the race is more or less uphill... And we can't discount the fact you're "technically" not allowed to wear headphones, which to me is just sheer ridiculousness because who can run/workout/drive/do anything without music?

So really, the whole thing is probs going to break me, much like the nightmare I now like to refer to as the Fugi Paris to Ancaster 60kill-me-ometers. But what's a spring without almost wetting your pants in public, hmm?

So what you say, Cousin Toque? Think you could make you're way down here for this one? Consider this your official challenge. You'll have plenty of time after your Olympic schtick and I know you're way more prepared than I, what with the half marathons you have under your belt. It'd be just like that scene from the Lord of the Rings with Viggo, Orly, and the dwarf chasing the big orc guys arcoss the New Zealand countryside... Hee! Guess which one I'd be?

It was a big weekend in the Library Lady household...

First off, Little C's first birthday. Hard to believe my little buddy is one, but he is. Such a little man: playing with the big kids, fighting over who gets to use the digger, wearing a collared shirt and mini blue jeans (complete with a belt), and eating his first cheesie *sigh*... Oh the milestones.

As you can see, Auntie Library Lady made him a dump truck birthday cake which was eaten by the fist full (as it should be.) He's quite good at managing his eating, so don't let the picture fool you--grilled cheese cut into soldiers, tiny bites of melon off the rind, working his own sippy cup like a big boy. There's a hilaripus video of him eating a bowl full of macaroni and cheese. When it's available (get on that, Beef) I'll post.

Second, Mama LL and I booked a vacation for February. Mama and papa liked to 'holiday' twice a year, and so they should. Mama and I will continue the tradition with a nod to pop--a cruise of the Caribbean (dad loved boats of any size and shape, and was prouder of the pictures he snapped of last year's cruise through the Panama Canal than you'd think humanely possible...)

I'm excited to do this with mom. Dad and I took many a trip together--E-ville, Jasper, Mount Tremblant--but this is the first mother-daughter solo mission and I'm happy to go along for the ride. I think she worries I won't be entertained, but I can't imagine why: sitting poolside sipping specialty drinks, indulging in an afternoon ice cream buffet and late night mid-ship slot machines? Um, yes please. Don't forget a side of off-board excursions, spa treatments, an on board running track, FRESHLY MANICURED LAWN FOR LAWN BOWLING, PUTTING, AND CROQUET, and the weekly glass blowing show (wtf?)

We're taking a brand new ship called the Celebrity Solstice from Fort Lauderdale to San Jaun, St. Maarten, the BVIs, and home again. We opted for the ocean view balcony, reserved aisle seats on the flight, and the more convenient Toronto airport.

I'm excited to experience this with her, and to *fingers crossed* make this very... mmm... "uncomfortable" first time more bearable. Because it must be done. She deserves it.

Really?

EZcracker. The new way to crack and separate eggs.

Two words for this one: wow.

Almost as bad as the Bumpit, or as Orange refers to it, "the hair thing-a-ma-who that makes you look like a cheap (creepy) wh*re." Quite possibly the worst infomercial of all time--turning these women into Coneheads certainly doesn't entice me to purchase their product...

Reality Bites was on tonight...

... And while Ethan Hawke is by no means a catch (see: Ethan cheats on Uma circa 2003), Troy Dyer is one sexy b*tch. This movie is tops in my book, and the soundtrack? Uh. Well, lets just say in highschool I listened to it so much on my Sony Walkman I burned through the tape.

TWICE!

I think kids these days would say: BOOYA!

World's cutest infestation

Ladybug! Ladybug!
Fly away home.
Your house is on fire.
And your children all gone.

All except one,
And that's little Ann,
For she crept under
The frying pan.

This long running rhyme is totally bizarre and furthers my thought that just because you can, doesn't mean you should.

That said, the first stanza (pow! Where'd I pull that out of, huh? Stanza? Man, that's almost as good as pangea...) perfectly describes my house at the moment. Because Ladybugs... y'all gots to go home. Didn't your mothers teach you company was like fish: after three days it starts to stink. Seriously. How long can you guys and gals hang around my drapes and lamp shades? I don't even understand how you're getting in here! To quote Mitch, it's like I have an infestation of cute.

I feel like I'm eight again, trapping stray ladybugs in glass jars and releasing them into the wild (read: a cold, slow death, but perhaps better than through the taunting over sized paws of a cat with too much time on his... err... hands?)

Three completely separate facts relating to my weekend:

I am shamelessly addicted to arcade games that give you little tickets for playing them, that you can then exchange for tiny Asian-manufactured prizes. My 1-year old nephew has a thing for Abba and willingly sat patiently in my lap for the first 20 minutes of Mama Mia! (that's all we had time for before nap time, diaper time, big-boy-clothes time, snack time, and shaking-the-poker-chips-on-the-floor-time). Orange makes a ridiculously good chili, and waiting for a bowl was well worth the 11 months.

Summer GTs

I was going through my camera tonight, and rediscovered pictures from the summer. It feels like a lifetime ago! May 24, girls weekend, Labour day... Le sigh.

Some of the goodies:

Memories of a beautiful day, a 60km Bike Race, numbness from the waist down, coming close to losing control of my bodily functions, and crying through the last 5km. Would you believe I've had nightmares of this bike race? 'Tis true. Hopefully Paris-Ancaster 2010 will see me break the 4.5 hour mark *blush*


Mid-day patio drinks in T.O. with Poomobile and Free Samples. Yummers. Is there anything better than shopping and lunch? Someday I'll be retired and I'll spend afternoons with my ladies "lunching". But girls, why didn't someone tell me my bangs looked uber greasy? Hmm?


Beach volleyball, backyard BBQs, "Average Sized Men" (and maybe one too many banana drinks for Big Guy...?)

Winning big ($2.40) at the Dog Races. Could I be any more excited? Could it have been any hotter? Could it have been anymore fun?


Floating meat... Fresh, hot, hand delivered floating meat, to boot! Who she's delivering it too, I'm not quite sure. But she was bound and determined to egg-beater her way over there!

Paddle boating with Cowtown Heather. I'm in clear violation of the boating laws... Note the beer in the cup holder... Meh.

Orange being mistaken for a flower... Again... W00t w00t! Can you see the Segwun in the background!?

Sunset in Port Carling... Taken from another patio... After patio beers... And fries (eeee... oh but they taste so good!)

Family portrait. Minus Bert. But plus my rock awesome slippers, purchased from the alwasy fantastic Stedman's V&S.

Thanks for the good summer, peeps.

And he's a parent?

This is one of those few instances where the unfortunate minority ruin it for the well intentioned majority.

This morning on my drive into work, I passed a man "doubling" on his bike with his young son (maybe 5... 6 years old?) along one of the busiest roads in the Hammer (buses, trucks, and an insane amount of cross-city traffic.) For those unfamiliar with doubling, this is the process whereby the bike driver (in this case, the father) sits on the bike seat and the "doubler" (the child) sits on the cross bar. It not only looks but feels awkward, because the driver has to pedal around the body of the doubler. We did it a lot in elementary school when you wanted to get somewhere fast with a friend.

I have no problem "sharing the road" (as the latest environmental campaign requests), but I will not share the road with @ssholes like this. I won't share the road with bikers who bust through stop signs or red lights. I won't share the road with bikers who ride the road and hope the curb onto the sidewalk when it's convenient for them. Because if I collide with you when you breeze through a traffic signal it's MY fault.

And p.s. grow up and wear a helmet, for farks sake. If it's law I wear a seat belt, it should be law you wear a helmet. Because when you choose to ignore the rules of the road and I smush you in my sewing-machine-on-wheels, it'll be you going through my windshield, not me.

D*ck.