Gone to work for a much needed rest...

So much action this holiday season.

Note: 'action' meaning "comings and goings", not 'action' meaning "hanky-panky". Pervs.

Christmas Eve I left work at 1:00 pm for the farmer's market to purchase the traditional stocking fruit and Cheeses of Nazareth. Zipped home to get one last snuggle with Bert under the mistletoe before moving my stuff to the house for Santa, etc. Church, food, more food, some guy named Guido, cuddles, coffee and Baileys (yum!), presents, ride-on Fire Trucks, naps, snacks, A Peter Griffin Christmas, wine, turkey, bedders, and a partridge in a pear tree went flying by in a blur. Somewhere in there was a baby in a necktie, contraband in my stocking (to be secretly shared with Fingers... *wink*), and a man dressed as a Christmas tree doing a 10-mile run.

Santa was sweet this year, and I'm rocking my new winter coat with style. Bless him, as much as he dreads it Orange continues to facilitate my transition into a crazy cat lady (I think it's called "enabling") as he found and purchased for me a Kit Cat Clock--the very one I've been searching for since first meeting Bert! It now hangs with pride in my living room, and really is the bees knees.

Boxing Day I got a visit from Joe Fresh Sleeves, which was happiness indeed, followed by a sleepover party with Beef and her double-diapered baby. Is there anything cuter than a footie-sleeper? Maybe lil'C in a footie sleeper...

Side note: I've eaten more shrimp this holiday than ever before, and I worry that like a flamingo I may just turn pink.

Today I'm back at work, the majority of my day putting together a "look what I found at the library" display (the contents for which include the library's bizarrest and most interestingly underused items, including the Teddy Bear Encyclopedia, Have Your Poo Rolled Away by Dung Beetles: and 99 other things to do before you die, A Field Guide to Meat, Swahili Phrasebook, and Kitting with Balls.)

And finally, tomorry Orange, Fingers, BSB and I (and maybe Poo and BG) will hit the trails to cottage land for New Years up North--boardgames, beer, bed, and BSB's cooking = rockin' GTs. I'm spoiled. I'm not sure what I'm looking forward to more, though: snow pants, watching Orange stroke the big wood elephant (literally), or the outdoor sauna.

Happy New Year, everyone! Stay tuned in early January for a recap of my 2009 resolutions, and those for 2010.

"Merry Christmas, everybody!" love Library Lady and Prof. Grampy

I know, I know. I post the same video every year, and you're probably getting sick of it. But when I was eight, this movie made my life. So take your grinch pants off and start watching. I mean, the man makes a train set out of a tea pot! A TEA POT! I'm no scientist, but I'd say that's pretty amazing. Not to mention the vacuum cleaner ride-on thingy...

LL's Pictures with Santa, Take Two!

... And this one came in it's own fancy-dancy card!

Please note *pulls out laser pointer* the coffee cup stains *points to coffee cup stains* and pen markings *points to ma's signature phone doodle, 'hi!'*

Clearly this card was as treasured as it was intended to be, making my suffering through more poorly-costumed Santa laps well worth the effort. That said, considering this diddy is circa 1984-85, and the fact my mother has a nasty habit of throwing out anything not physically nailed to the floorboards, I'm shocked this actually made the move from not one, not two, but three houses (in two separate provinces!)

Thanks, mom, for the nod to nostalgia.

Inside the decorative card you get a great snap of me and my bestie, Ryan (this was pre-Fingers... although she lived in the 'hood, I was more into riding Big Wheels with the boys than playing with stinky girls..) Again, I apologize for the picture quality.

What you won't be able to see in this one, especially beyond my blinding outfit, is that I'm once again not willing to sit on Santa's lap. While Ryan is comfortably seated, I'm awkwardly leaning against Santa's knee going to town on my candy cane (which no doubt had to be given preemptively in order to get me up near the big guy to begin with.) Santa himself has clearly given up on charming both of us, as he hasn't even bothered to look at the camera during our snap... To be fair, this is probably his thousandth of the day which would be a hard day's work at the legendary JS mall (scene to the childhood nightmare Fingers and I refer to as "the guy who threw lit matches at us".. but that's another story altogether...)

*sigh*

The last time I visited Santa with the intent to sit on his lap was during my undergrad when Beef and I thought we'd wow mom and dad with a cutesy sisterly photo shoot. Unfortunately, once again Santa oozed the "no feeling" resulting in yet another awkward picture with me standing slightly off to the side. I think it was when he asked me if I wanted a boyfriend for Christmas...

A couple of years ago I made the trek out to a pet store with Gary (the cat, not the uncle) as a Christmas gift for the human sea cucumber. This time around it wasn't Santa that creeped the little guy out (that cat, not the cucumber) but the other kittens on display at the store. He seriously couldn't have gotten out of there quicker, and barely made it through the shot without peeing his wee fluffy pants.

All in all, me and photos with Santa are like egg nog... just wrong. But I can definitely leave you with a Santa I'd actually pay to spend time with. It's probably best if he sits on my lap, though, because I'd probs smother him with my big butters.

Look at those wee boots... Hmm? Squishy.

LL's Pictures with Santa, Take One!

Excuse the picture quality, we're talking polaroid from 1983...

... But this picture says a lot. Creepy Santa man in some very unrealistic faux facial hair, and Library Lady fighting tooth and nail to stay as far away from him as humanely possible, complete with red, tear stained eyes and disheveled bowl cut (not to mention a ridiculous plaid jacket...)

The best part? Dad, trying to subtly stay out of the photo so he and mom can have what is a fairly standard childhood tradition: photos with the jolly man. I'm clearly not playing my part, however, as evident by my death grip on what appears to be dad's tan-on-tan three-piece corduroy suit.

For the record, this was not a phase. To this day I don't like sitting on strange men's laps. And the picture is still priceless!

Stay tuned tomorrow for LL's Pictures with Santa, Take Two!

Is it a bottle of scotch? A baseball hat?

Christmas, however different, is creeping into me. Secret gifts, homemade Christmas cakes, decorating my mantle, mom's bits n' bites, 24-hour carols on 105.7, a wallet stuffed with gift receipts, tree shopping with mom, an advent calendar on my desk, cold winter mornings, shopping lists, the Farmer's market, and night time drives to check out the neighbours lights.

There are so many memories tied to this time of year, huh? Each tradition comes with a new flood of feelings and smiles and tears and laughs. The year he hooked the tree up to an IV because it kept drying out over night... the year the turkey made no gravy *insert horror movie music*... the year Beef and I secretly unwrapped each and every present while they were at the Medical-Legal holiday party (Beef got a Coconut Joe sweat suit and I got a mommy and baby Barbie set with matching dresses.)

Some traditions we won't carry on (there's no one to buy a tacky comedic neck tie for, for example), but others we will (marzipan pigs, bayberry candles, and the 'Cheeses of Nazareth'.)

Any traditions you care to share?

Math even I can understand...

Christmas shopping
+ popcorn for dinner
+ strawberry thermal pajamas
+ new Internet treasures (Steve and merit badges on Etsy.com)
= a good Tuesday night

A list of things I need to confess:

1. I like the show 8 Simple Rules for Dating My Teenage Daughter. Don't judge.

2. There is a tub of cookie dough in my freezer that calls to me like the sweaty tang of the karaoke microphone, midnight, on a Friday night at Rays Place. Damn that chocolate chunk. And damn you cheap walking-distance pints!

3. I start listening to Christmas carols December 1st and still can't quit that sh*t until well after baby Jesus explodes onto the scene.

4. With daylight savings, I leave a light on in the morning when I leave the apartment. For Bert. So he doesn't sit in the dark. I said DON'T JUDGE!

5. I find Paul Plakas from X-Weighted disturbingly attractive.

6. I have a book on my library card that is well over a month overdue, and there are holds on it. The guilt is seriously eating me alive, but I'm not finished reading it yet.

7. My mother admitted to me that she wants shoulder pads to come back in style. This isn't my confession to make, but I feel I need to give her secret a voice/publicly mock her for this ridiculous wish. No telling, Aunt Margie!

8. In my life as a back-up dancer, I'd like Free Samples and I to learn the Let's Hear it for the Boys dance from Footloose. Whether or not we perform it in public is another thing (although secretly I'd love to...)

9. In my last Christmas shopping trip, I bought something similar to what one might classify "a slouch sock"... For me.

10. Tonight at the hair salon I walked into a glass shelf and pulled a Peter Griffin. Seriously. I thought I was going to puke it hurt so much. But an entire salon of well groomed people were staring at me so I put on my best "I'm okay" face and paid my tab. And whimpered all the way home. I now look forward to the giant monster bruise that will no doubt form on my arm--stay tuned for pictures.

And so it begins...

I'm getting snow tires on Monday. And thank the sweet baby Shiloh because I nearly collided with three guard rails, two Fords, and a semi on my way to work. Excellent. 70km an hour winds really shake things up down here in the So'O. Add that to the fact I drive a sewing machine on wheels, and you've got a big slippery mess.

Needless to say I'll be taking the long road home tonight.

Obvious product placement is starting to creep me out...

I stopped contributing to the statistics of American Idol many moons ago, but not before the gang started singing and dancing around the latest Ford monstrosity or a large Coke glass. Product placement has become an integral part of this show, and is one of the reasons I stopped following it (alongside their blatant capitalization of mocking the mentally disabled and/or sick.)

But I confess, I watch The Biggest Loser. I find the contestants inspirational, to an extent. For a reality show there seems to be less focus on the trash talk and backstabbing and more on hard work and support. For these reasons, it's actually one of the only shows I watch on a weekly basis (until Lost comes back, that is...)

But I seriously can't take the product placements! They're new to the show this year and they give me the heebie jeebies . In the middle of a workout session or a heart to heart, one of the trainers will turn to the camera and say:

"You can do this, Liz! You have the strength to push through and reach your goals. You're 22 years old you should be able to lift that 22lb dumbbell above your head! Damnit, Liz. Push! You're a strong woman, and this Extra sugar free Polar Ice gum will help you fight your cravings, giving you fresh breath and a whiter smile!" *insert creepy toothy smile*

It's... uncomfortables. Take THIS CLIP as an example... Thank god for Ziplock, hmm? And that's a mild example from last season, not nearly as seamless as those from this season.

It's like The Truman Show...

Self image is a dangerous beast. And if I really stopped to think about how much time and energy I've consumed criticizing myself, I'd finally have something to actually criticize.

Ironic, hmm?

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...