I was out on a coffee date yesterday, and happened to see a guy I went to High School with. And when I say “see” I really mean just “see.” I didn’t want to be rude and interrupt my date, and high school guy also seemed to be accompanied by a lovely lady that may or may not be receptive to some strange woman walking up to say “hi.”

I’m also not positive - but I have a feeling that our last interaction was less than cordial. Not that there was some sort of fight or anything - just a feeling that the friendship had fizzled for some totally anti-clamactic reason.

In any case, this guy looks exactly the same as he did in High School (which was 7 years ago) - wearing the same wardrobe (jeans, sneakers, hockey jersey), the same greasy hair in pseudo mullet ‘do, the same extra 15 lbs, and the same acne.

Contrasting this, most people I went to high school with no longer recognize me at first glance. I think I was about 22 (definitely a late bloomer) when the T&A finally appeared, the braces and acne are gone, the glasses are smaller (or not present when I’ve got contacts in), and my hair that was so long I could sit on it has gone to a funky pixie cut.

Sometimes I think it’s better that way. I’d rather people from High School don’t really recognize me - it wasn’t the most pleasant 5 years I’ve ever had. Also, I was a big dork (I still am on the inside, but I can hide it pretty well on the outside), and as long as that’s no longer my most distinguishing feature, I’m a happy camper.

Those who worked with me last winter know that my mantra through the entire Christmas season was a daily Starbucks trip to procure a Grande Eggnog Latte and Cranberry Bliss Bar.

Now that I’m on this whole health kick thing, I figured I’d check out the nutritional information of the aforementioned mid-morning snack.

It consists of 75% of my target caloric intake for the day. *sob*

Some days it’s a very, very good thing that I don’t work within reasonable access of a Starbucks any more. I don’t think I could handle the temptation.

Nothing like starting your Friday by surfing a little work-related porn.

Also, I started my Christmas Shopping last night. I suppose that means it’s time to put up the tree & lights this weekend.

The stuff I bought yesterday is all random “Christmas-themed Gifts.” Meaning they’re really cute, and not intended for anyone in particular. I’ll use them for random relatives that I’m not close to who show up, and as hostess gifts for any parties that I end up attending.

Either that, or keep them all for myself. Because they’re really cute. Dear God. I feel the traditional Christmas Manic Swing starting up already….

Some days I seriously doubt my ability to do my job.

Funny thing though, it’s not because I don’t believe I’m smart enough - it’s because I’m too smart.

On these kind of days, I tend to view the entire system as flawed, and counter-intuitive, and I can’t dumb myself down enough to plod along step by misplaced step instead of overanalysing and confusing myself trying to figure out what the hell is going on.

That said, my musings don’t make the pile of work on my desk any smaller….

Warning: Pointless bitching ahead. Feel free to skip this one.

Not that things have been particularly bad, but they haven’t exactly been faboo lately either. I just seem to be on a bit of a streak of less than great luck with things these days and feel the need to have a short piss & moan session, and put them out to the universe in general as a formal notice of my complaint with the situation.

So without further ado, a general list of things that suck in my world lately:
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Well, here you have it: the long-awaited answer to yesterday’s post.

But first, I must say I’m a bit disapointed that more people doubt my gastrointestinal fortitude, and my fishing skills than my outright ability to lie, cheat and steal. Except Donna that is - thanks for the vote of confidence!

Unfortunately for Donna, that’s all she gets, for she is incorrect.

The grand prize actually goes to the very first guess, by dearheart. I have never, ever run over a cat. Or any other animal larger than a rat for that matter (though some rats are as large as some cats - but not any rats that I’ve hit). But I digress…

Congratulations dearheart! Explanations of my strange truths in the extended entry…
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Stolen from Joelle. All of these things are true about me, except ONE! Guess which it is.

First person who knows me (or wants to meet me) to get it right gets a beer (or other beverage of your choice). If you don’t know me, or live far, far away I’ll find something neat to mail you.

Ready, Set, Go:

1. I have seen Donny Osmond in nothing but his skivvies.

10. I faced my own mortality when I nearly died on a ranch 45 minutes away from any sort of paved road, 3 hours away from access to medical care.

Good Luck!

Update: So here’s a freebie - it’s not #6, because I mis-diagnosed my own prior injury. I only had a very small area with 3rd degree burns (point of impact), but due to the area (hairline) I don’t actually have scarring. Any other guesses before I post the answer?

Coolest. Commercial. Ever.

And filmed in Vancouver. Too bad we’ll never see it on TV here.

Go Watch!

Can I please have another weekend to recover from my weekend? Please?

The old roommate is outta here. She does have her keys for another week, since she’s going to come by and pick up any stray mail etc. without having to bother me. But other than that, she’s officially no longer infringing on my regular world.

I interviewed two potential roommate candidates on Sunday. One I loved. The other, not so much. I offered the place to the one I loved, but she’s decided not to move right now after all. So now the dilemma is, do I hold out and wait to see if someone comes along I like enough - or do I suck it up and go with the one I didn’t like quite so much?

The other person gave me a bit of a vibe that I didn’t quite mesh with. She actually reminded me quite a bit of the ex-roommate. Can I handle that until April? Or do I chance a financially risky (not impossible - just not preferable) situation in the hopes that someone better bites at the last minute?

The thing is - I could totally handle the ex-roomie’s quirks. I’m not so much of a stubborn cow that I expect my roommate to be exactly like me. It’s Crazy Ex-Roommate’s total and utter lack of mental stability that drove me up the wall. This potential new CR is currently pursuing a career in mental health and wellness, which makes me think that even if she is a little bit crazy, she at least has her shit together enough to help those (like CER) who totally can not keep their shit together even a little bit.

One other thing to consider, is that I’ve been strongly considering getting out of my place and into something on my own by the summer. Somewhere that has insuite laundry, and where I can own a pet. Perhaps another crazy roommate will be that extra motivation for me…

What would you do?

The movers have come and gone, and there is actually a minimum of wasteland left behind.

CR is supposed to be coming back this evening to clean up some more (she’s got a load of stuff that needs to go outside for Big Brothers to take away). Other than that, I think it’s just a matter of vacuuming, and dusting and TAKING AWAY HER KEYS.

Aaaahhh.

My home is finally my own again. Until tomorrow. When I interview two new potential roommate candidates….

My Crazy Roommate (CR) finally arrived back at the house, and started (started!) packing at 7:00pm last night. She’s been going pretty much non-stop since then, with a few pauses to stop and cry helplessly. I fell asleep at about midnight, and she was still going - and she was back at it again the first time I opened my eyes at about 7:00am.

The movers were supposed to arrive at 1:00pm today. They called earlier to postpone until 2:30, as they’re stuck at another job. If it were me paying $78/h, I’d be asking for a refund for fucking with my day. CR is just happy that she has more time to finish packing. She’s just run to Staples to buy some bankers boxes, since she ran out of vessels to toss all of her crap into.

Those of you who have been to my place will know the approximate size of it - well imagine that her bedroom (9×11), the dining room (10×10) and much of the kitchen and entrance are full of boxes. And she expects to fit all of this into a 250 square foot housekeeping suite.

That’s right, laugh along with me.

She has five good sized boxes (about the size of bankers boxes) of bathroom things - and she doesn’t even have her own bathroom! It’s a communal bathroom between three people. I believe she has seven or eight boxes of kitchen things, and her kitchen consists of a nook with a bar fridge, a cook top, and three cupboards.

I’m just glad I don’t have to deal with her on the other end.

T-minus 75 minutes until the movers arrive. I hope.

I’ve been really getting used to typing on the laptop at home. At first it was frustrating, since I have exactly the same ergonomic keyboard at work as on the (still broken) desktop at home, and I would keep overshooting and jamming the keys on the laptop. Now I seem to have the opposite problem.

Any pianists out there will know what it feels like when you’ve gone on vacation, and haven’t done a good practice session for a little while - you go and have a few good runs at the scales, and your fingers seem to have gotten lazy. It seems like hard work for them to move over the keys as effortlessly as they used to, and your fingers actually start to ache a bit with the effort. Then you hit a flat instead of a sharp, and it throws off at least the next three notes, and you give up and start the whole scale over again.

That’s what it feels like typing on the keyboard at work right now. You don’t even want to know how long it took and how many times I had to backspace just typing this entry.

I don’t yet have a new roommate lined up - though a couple hopefuls are in the works.

But the existing roomie is moving out ASAP (gee darn) and has movers scheduled to show up at 12:00 tomorrow. She almost started packing last night. And by almost, I mean she appears to have built about seven boxes.

This reminds me of Christmas time last year, when she had a 5:45 flight to Toronto, and didn’t actually leave work before 4:30 that day. She arrived back at the apartment at about 5:00, and I basically had to throw her (helpless and bawling) and her mostly-packed suitcase in a cab and pray that she made her flight - with a promise that if there was anything she forgot, I’d pack it up and courier it to her there, just so she would leave already. I was not about to have her stick around and deal with her over the holidays.

I predict murderous rage and chaos coming soon to a weblog near you.

In Flanders Fields

In Flanders fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses, row on row,
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scarce heard amid the guns below.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high.
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders fields.

Have you hugged a veteran or soldier today? I have.

Also, I have reached a new level of procrastination.

I have a speech to deliver in 30 minutes.

It is not written yet.

The outline is almost done.

Wish me luck!