Halloween

Honestly, it's gotta be my favorite day of the year, next to Christmas, and Thanksgiving, and the day we go for pancakes and maple syrup at the sugar shack in the woods, and any day that involves cheesies, kitty paws, or Lost... But next to those things...

This year, as an extra special treat, Heather and I dressed as Hansel and Gretel. I was Hansel, Heather... Well, you can figure it out. We did not, as my mother wanted to know, go door-to-door. But we did paint the town. It was ridiculous, really. No, sorry, it was actually so beyond ridiculous, it was ridonkulous. But we had fun. So much fun. We danced. We flirted. We drank German beer (how fitting?) We distributed candy and bread crumbs (well, actually they were more like croutons). I'm mean, who could blame us for looking that silly when there was that much fun to be had?

Hope your day is filled with mini chocolate bars and Rockets (although, I always traded my Rockets for those molasses candies, because I hated Rockets...)

Chubbs

I'd like to send a great big "howdy doody" out to all my fat babies in the house.

Whoot! Whoot!

Yea that's right... That means you, and you, and especially you, Chubbers. Yea, you know what I'm talking about. That's right. You over there in the corner with the peanut face. You with your chubbified cheeks, so fat they should be illegal. You and your sausage legs all bundled in a blanket--don't think I don't know you're in a onesie under there! Oh, I know... Probs wearing your little stripey pants, too. Damn cute, fat babies and their tiny legs.

But for reals... Welcome, cutie. We've all been waiting on you. And you arrived fashionably late, as all ladies should. And you arrived looking better than we could have imagined. You're fabulous, sweetheart. And I mean it from the bottom of my fat-baby-lovin' heart.

Props to Madison, y'all.

Paula's Home Cooking

Apparently anyone can get a cooking show on the Food Network, because as of today I've officially discovered the worst of the worst.

Her name is Paula Deen, but you gots to imagine it said with a thick Savannah accent, a la "Pawow-la Dah-een". She's this woman who started her own cooking business in Georgia, and her specialty is something called 'Boston Butt'. I'm not sure what that is.

She has the most nasal voice I've ever heard. Today she made something called "Sausage Balls" (I've linked you to the recipe, just in case you feel so inclined...) These taste treats involve opening a box of biscuit mix, adding a pound of sausage meat, and a package of pre-shredded cheese. Roll them and bake them for 10 minutes or so. And such is the glory of the Sausage Ball. Don't forget to mix generic mustard and whipped dressing (not even mayonnaise) for your dipping sauce. You'll be happy to know this recipe will yeild you five dozen Sausage Balls.

I mean, for real? Is that all it takes to have your own cooking show? Open a box of Bisquick and slop some Hellman's in a bowl? Sick. I can't stop laughing. I keep saying "Sausage Balls" over and over in that awful nasal Savannah drawl... Say it with me: Sausage Balls. Sausage Balls. Sausage Balls.

Bhahahahahahaha!

I like Monkeys

The pet store was selling them for five cents a piece. I thought that odd since they were normally a couple thousand each. I decided not to look a gift horse in the mouth. I bought 200. I like monkeys.

I took my 200 monkeys home. I have a big car. I let one drive. His name was Sigmund. He was slow. In fact, none of them were really bright. They kept punching themselves in their genitals. I laughed. Then they punched my genitals. I stopped laughing.

I herded them into my room. They didn't adapt very well to their new environment. They would screech, hurl themselves off of the couch at high speeds and slam into the wall. Although humorous at first, the spectacle lost its novelty halfway into its third hour.

Two hours later I found out why all the monkeys were so inexpensive: they all died. No apparent reason. They all just sorta' dropped dead. Kinda' like when you buy a goldfish and it dies five hours later. Damn cheap monkeys.

I didn't know what to do. There were 200 dead monkeys lying all over my room, on the bed, in the dresser, hanging from my bookcase. It looked like I had 200 throw rugs.

I tried to flush one down the toilet. It didn't work. It got stuck. Then I had one dead, wet monkey and 199 dead, dry monkeys.

I tried pretending that they were just stuffed animals. That worked for a while, that is until they began to decompose. It started to smell real bad.

I had to pee but there was a dead monkey in the toilet and I didn't want to call the plumber. I was embarrassed.

I tried to slow down the decomposition by freezing them. Unfortunately there was only enough room for two monkeys at a time so I had to change them every 30 seconds. I also had to eat all the food in the freezer so it didn't all go bad.

I tried burning them. Little did I know my bed was flammable. I had to
extinguish the fire.

Then I had one dead, wet monkey in my toilet, two dead, frozen monkeys in my freezer, and 197 dead, charred monkeys in a pile on my bed. The odor wasn't improving.

I became agitated at my inability to dispose of my monkeys and to use the bathroom. I severely beat one of my monkeys. I felt better.

I tried throwing them way but the garbage man said that the city wasn't allowed to dispose of charred primates. I told him that I had a wet one. He couldn't take that one either. I didn't bother asking about the frozen ones.

I finally arrived at a solution. I gave them out as Christmas gifts. My friends didn't know quite what to say. They pretended that they like them but I could tell they were lying. Ingrates. So I punched them in the genitals.

I like monkeys.

Reflections on a Home Coming:

1. Things never change.

2. The fact that things never change is somewhat comforting.

3. I've always believed that my father had the uncanny ability to find the most boring things on TV to watch. I've since realized that for the most part, these "shows" have one unifying theme: Tiger Woods. I'm pretty sure Tiger Woods is the most boring person alive.

4. Grammas are always good, especially when they take you with a triple jump on the checker board.

5. Traffic in Ontario is gross. So is the sheer volume of minivans on the road. Subsequently, minivan drivers are gross. I've always been good with math.

6. Ontario's Pizza Pizza is superior to Pizza 73. I'm sorry, Hurr_ah and Sleeves, but It's true. It's the dipping sauce. I love the creamy garlic dipping sauce.

7. I miss my library ladies. And WSM. But he was one of the girls at school anyway, for the most part. So really, I just miss my library ladies. Both from school and from work. And then there's Pants/Rosie... Besty.

Books Books Books

I'm feeling the need to puff myself up a bit. So here goes.

Over the course of the last year and a half in my stint as a Children's Librarian, using my lunch hours, breaks, and lengthy bus/LRT rides, I have read or re-read, interspersed with copious picture books, the following junior and YA titles (in no particular order):

Skellig
Whales On Stilts
The Clue of Linoleum Lederhosen
Kissing Tennessee
Fifteen
The Luckiest Girl
Jean and Johnny
Sahara Special
What Mr. Mattero Did
Catherine Called Birdy
Lucy Whipple
The Midwife's Apprentice
Matilda Bone
The Cat Ate My Gymsuit
There's a Bat in Bunk Five
Coraline
Among the Hidden
Princess Academy
Shug
Ida B
I am the Wallpaper
The Star of Kazan
Kira-Kira
Gossip Times Three
Girls
Worth
Spying on Dracula
2gether, 4ever
Kensuke's Kingdom
All Alone in the Universe
The Bailey Game
Spiral-Bound
Endymion Spring
Flipped
Bad Girls
Girls in Love
The Illustrated Mum
Feed
Noughts, and Crosses
Forever
The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants
The Second Summer of the Sisterhood
A Great and Terrible Beauty
Rebel Angels
Wild Orchid
Nicola and the Viscount
Grecian Holiday
Spanish Holiday
California Holiday
Ready?
Looking for JJ
The Perks of Being a Wallflower
The Fattening Hut
The Red Kayak
Someone Like You
That Summer
This Lullaby
Keeping the Moon
The Truth About Forever
Just Listen
A Northern Light
The True Meaning of Cleavage
The Isabel Factor
I Capture the Castle
Looking for Alaska
The Minister's Daughter
Perfect World
The Raging Quiet
Alice MacLeod: Realist At Last
Alice, I Think
Miss. Smithers
Girl, 15, Charming But Insane
Girl, 16, Absolute Torture
The Giver
Gathering Blue
Messenger
Silent Boy
The Beckoners
Love, and Other Four Letter Words
Sloppy Firsts
Second Helpings
Charmed Thirds
Not the End of the World
White Darkness
Feeling Sorry for Celia
Sang Spell
Teach Me
Angus, Thongs, and Full-FrontalÂ…
On the Bright Side, I'm NowÂ…
Knocked Out by my Nunga-Nungas
Dancing in my Nuddy Pants
Away Laughing on a Fast Camel
Then He Ate my Boy Entrancers
Startled by his Furry Shorts
How I Live Now
Small Steps
The Safe Keeper's Secret
The Truth Teller's Tale
Sumemrs at Castle Auburn
Dust
What My Mother Doesn't Know
No Shame, No Fear
If We Kiss
What Gloria Wants
Hard Love
Sorcery and Cecelia
Summer Sisters
Nellcott is my Darling
My Sister's Keeper
The Pact: A Love Story
The Tenth Circle
The Book Theif

(*ahem*)

Puff Puff.
That's all folks.

Just Call Me Oprah...

So I was on TV this morning. Yup (*stretches*) just another day in the life of a Children's Librarian (*pats self on back*). It was for Raise-a-Reader, which premiers tomorrow in the Edmonton Journal. Look for me in the library centre fold... Hey! Not that kind of picture! Get your mind out of the gutter.

But seriously. Heather from Hamilton says I'm like Oprah. So who wants to be the Gail to my Oprah? Hmm? Only, as Heather says, I don't look like a pug dog without my make-up on.

Thanks, Heather.

Gold Star

I would like to arrange something like this with my library peeps:

(p.s. A gold star to the one who can name the fantastical movie this is from...)

Susie: You guys, I'm really going to miss this place.
Coop: Me too.
Ben: Hey, let's all promise that in ten years from today, we'll meet again, and we'll see what kind of people we've blossomed into.
Susie: Yeah!
Ben: What time do you wanna meet?
J.J.: You mean ten years from now?
Coop: Let's meet in the morning so we can make a day of it.
Susie: Okay, so what is it? Is it like 9:00? 9:30?
Coop: Well, let's say 9:00, that way we can be here by 9:30.
McKinley: Well, no, why don't we say 9:30, and then make it your beeswax to be here by 9:30? I mean, we'll all be in our late 20s by then. I just don't see any reason why we can't be places on time.
Gary: Okay, then, it's settled. 9:30 it is. All agreed?
Together: Agreed.
McKinley: Good, because I have something at 11:00.
Gary: You just have like a trapper-keeper full of appointments, right?
McKinley: No, I just have something at 11:00, and I can't change it, because I already moved it twice.

Royal Smart Person

A royal smart person (namely, Hurr_ah) once said:

"Tis far better to get your life started in Hamilton, than to wait for it to end in Edmonton."

I think I shall make a t-shirt with this bit of wisdomostiy.

Bravo, Hurr_ah.

I don't ask for much. I mean, seriously. I'm already doing everything I can to make this as painless as possible for all involved. We're supposed to be grown-ups, right? So when I ask for honesty, I expect honesty. That's not a lot to ask for... It's not like I'm asking for a loan, or a job, or something else that would be considered a major commitment that I can't think of right now...

I don't understand where/when things took this turn. I don't understand. I don't understand. I don't understand. It makes me feel as though I've done something wrong. As though I'm the bad one--the one to be avoided and forgotten.

I guess in a way, this gives me a reason to hate him. I just didn't want it to come to that.

A Tribute to the Small Things in Life:

Due to recent 'issues' in my life, Pants has been sending me distractors--items of goodness meant to keep me busy at work, where for the most part I'm busy already, but when I'm not... Well, you know... I'm procrastinating.

But I digress.

The latest distractor is the God-send, Lainey Gossip.

Lainey is fantastic. A total cow. She says all the things we're thinking, but in a deliciously funny, well written way. For example: THIS.

Warning: if you're not into celebrity news/trashing, then don't hit it up... Savvy? (as Lainey would say)

There. That's all the warning you'll get. Now click on it, and get your fill of hilarosity.

p.s. I've added her link to my 'Favorite Places to Visit' section, by the by.

Mindless ramblings of a crazed woman...

Such is my life. A mish-mash of nonsense that even I don't understand at the best of times. It's the same thing over and over and I can't seem to escape it. All I want is some form of normalcy. I've seen it, so I know it exists. It exists all around me, just not with me. What do I have to do to be normal?

I know a lot of you will say:
a) The grass is always greener...
b) There is no standard on which you can accurately measure yourself...
c) Nothing is what it seems...

But I gotta think that some people have it better. I gotta hope that this isn't what I'm doomed for for the rest of my life. This isn't what I bargained for and worked for and transplanted myself for.

The question is: am I ever going to find it here? If not, at what point do I throw in the towel and move on. Bigger and better, as they say.

And now for something completely different...

For those of you who won't have the pleasure of reviewing all 1,000,000 of my pictures, I've uploaded a couple of things for your perusal. These are by no means the highlights, or the lowlights (is that a word?). Just some shots I liked.

This was the menu at one of the restaurants in Belgrade. You'll notice sex glands, regular glands, bowels, and mushrooms in many ways are amongst the specialties.

Me enjoying deliciously strong Turkish coffee.

Coming to the realization I'm not in Kansas anymore.

Just some island prettiness.

I don't know why, but I really like this shot... It makes me feel all National Geographic-y.

Gary really has nothing to do with my trip, but c'mon now... Look at how cute he is cuddling his Santa stuffie... How could I resist?!

This is a toughy...

Brace yourself, this could take some serious time and deep contemplation. It's not an easy choice, nor one pregnant mother's or those with heart conditions should take lightly. If you're ready, and I mean really ready, to face the toughest choice of all time, scroll down...















Kevin Federline's performance on the MTV Teen Choice Awards

VS.

The movie "Snakes on a Plane"

Which is worse?
Tough call, I know.

Weirdest show ever:

What It's Like Being Alone.

Too funny! You have to watch it! Mondays at 9:30 p.m., on CBC.

Ash, you'll love it. And even Sleeves in her cable-less-ness can watch it!

Fuh. Nee.

I've copied this from my friend Princess's blog. It made me laugh damn hard this morning, because I can just picture it, and so I'm sharing it with you...

The Census Sketch, SNL:
Census-Taker.....Tim Meadows
Mr. Leonard.....Christopher Walken

Census-Taker: Mr. Leonard? I'm with the U.S. Census Bureau. We sent you a Census form, but you failed to return it to us.

Mr. Leonard: My mail is piled up like crazy.

Census-Taker: Yeah. Well, I just need to fill out this Census form with you. Uh.. how many people live in this residence?

Mr. Leonard:Oh, boy.. good question. I'm bad with numbers.. Maybe 80.

Census-Taker: 80 people live in this apartment?

Mr. Leonard: Seems high, doesn't it? Not 80. How about 4? I don't know.. I'm so bad at guestimating..

Census-Taker: Well, just take your time, and count.

Mr. Leonard: Okay.. there's me.. my wife.. our plants.. we have some candy bars..

Census-Taker: Well, you know, we don't count candy bars or plants..

Mr. Leonard: Well, then, there's just the two of us. Boy, I really overshot with the 80!

Census-Taker: Listen, don't worry about it. I'm gonna put you down as the Primary Resident, okay? Now, are you currently employed?

Mr. Leonard: Yeah.. part of the time.

Census-Taker: Well, you work part-time. How many days of the week?

Mr. Leonard: Every day.. but just part of the day. From 9 to 5.

Census-Taker: So, you work a full day?

Mr. Leonard: I wouldn't say that. There are huge chunks of time.. at night.. where I'm just asleep. For hours. It's ridiculous.

Census-Taker: No, it's not that ridiculous. Mr. Leonard, do you own or rent this apartment?

Mr. Leonard: Sure. You have to ask one of the other 79 people.

Census-Taker: You mean your wife?

Mr. Leonard: Yeah.

Census-Taker: Well, can I talk to her, then?

Mr. Leonard: She won't answer you. She's a bobcat.

Census-Taker: You got a bobcat in there?

Mr. Leonard: Well, I have a permit. [ reaches into apartment and pulls out a sheet of paper ] Here you go.

Census-Taker: [ examines paper ] This is a permit to run a nail salon.

Mr. Leonard: Wrong one! Wrong one! [ pulls another sheet of paper out of his apartment ]

Census-Taker: [ examines paper ] This is a permit to do street performances.

Mr. Leonard: Yeah. My wife's a big part of the act.

Census-Taker: [ shaking head ] You know what? Fine. [ changing subject ] Mr. Leonard, are you a citizen of the United States?

Mr. Leonard: I have dual-citizenship with the United States and Florida.

Census-Taker: Florida is a part of the United States.

Mr. Leonard: Don't push your politics on me, pal. All's I know is when I turned 50, I was issued a Florida passport. [ hands him the "passport" ] Here you go.

Census-Taker: [ examining "passport" ] Alright.. this is a novelty birthday card. And it says, "You're over the hill. Here's a passport to Florida." This is not a real passport.

Mr. Leonard: I don't know.. you know? Whenever I go to Florida, I show it at the border, and they always let me in!

Census-Taker: Listen, Mr. Leonard. A real passport wouldn't have a picture of a sexy nurse on it. This is a joke card.

Mr. Leonard: Well.. it's a hell of a forgery!

Census-Taker: [ exasperated ] Okay, let's just proceed as if this were going really well. Now, how long have you lived at this address?

Mr. Leonard: Oh, man! There you go with the numbers again!

Census-Taker: Just take your time.

Mr. Leonard: Well, what do most people say?

Census-Taker: That's not important!

Mr. Leonard: I feel an enormous amount of pressure to get this right. I want to win that car!

Census-Taker: [ shaking his head ] There's no car, Mr. Leonard! How long have you lived here?

Mr. Leonard: Alright, when I moved in, it was the Spring, and Clinton was President.. I'd just gotten out of jail.. I'd say an hour.

Census-Taker: Alright, let me go over this again, then. You are a convicted criminal, living alone in an apartment with a bobcat. And you work 56 hours a week as a street performer.

Mr. Leonard: When you say it like that, my life sounds pretty damn good!

Census-Taker: You know what? I've talked to a lot of people all over this country.. and your life is pretty damn good. You wanna get a beer?

Mr. Leonard: You know, I'd love to, but.. [ points into apartment ] ..you know.. the ol' ball and chain..

Census-Taker: Alright. Take care.

Mr. Leonard: Have a good one. [ returns into the apartment to find his bobcat/wife growling at him ] Again?! We just did it!

Am I the only one not buying a house? Fo real?

Hurrah for Hurr_ah!

Hip hip hurrah! Hip hip hurrah! Hip hip hurrah!

We all knew she was bound for the biggest and the best. You don't get to be the prettiest girl in library school for nothing. Nor the smartest... She's a star.

We'll miss your Michelle Pfeifer/Dangerous Minds ass here in Edmonton... Sigh...

"Lonely... I'm so lonely... I've got no body... To call my ooooooooowwwnnnnn."

Magpie

I walked into work this morning, and my coworker was wearing these kick-ass sandals... I can't even begin to describe them to you. They were all I could look at when I was talking to her. Shoes like that are the kind of shoes you marry. I'm like a freakin' magpie, except instead of shiny things, it's shoes.

Also, this past weekend:

Three cheers for nachos and plastic cheese; people who guess you're 29 instead of 18; babies named Henry who smell like soft and happy; and guys named Dean, who as unattractive as they might be, make you feel nice about yourself when you most need it.

Poll Time Again...

Is Caribbean pronounced 'CARE-A-BE-AN' or 'CA-RIBB-I-AN'?