My bags are packed, I'm sorta ready to go

I'm all packed up. I'll go to my meeting and then run around doing last minute errands, but it's still a little too hard to believe that this vacation that we have been looking forward to for the past 6 months has finally come to fruition. Rod's nearly packed, and he's been jumping around in typical 5-year-old style, waiting for his first ever foray out of Canada's borders. I'm more concerned about leaving the cats for so long. I know, I totally suck...here I am just hours away from my first real vacation in nearly 10 years, and I'm ready to stay home and be with my little babies. I know Jette will take good care of them, but I can't help wanting to take them with us. I'm also very concerned that I'm lacking funds. Where did it all go? Tuition, plane ticket for New York and preparations for Cancun. The money that was meant to be spent on our trip has whittled itself down to $200, as life got in the way.

Let's see, what else is there. Nope. The vacation and MUN are all I can think of. I suck! When I get back, I so need a job.

Well, I'd love to stay and rant (because it would mean I'd still be here with my babies), but it's 11.5 hours to take off, and I have so many little things to do. I'll try to keep you all updated on how the trip is proceeding, so look for the next entry to (hopefully) be more cheerful, upbeat, nuts-but-status-quo, etc.

When did I get old?

For someone who used to go out and dance the night away, I sure don't feel 26. I feel 46. Rod and I cleaned for much of yesterday. We sorted papers like mad, and once the bathroom is cleaned, our house is quite respectable. I mean, apart from the bedroom, which has suffered a hit by a Clothing Typhoon (more later). After cleaning, I spent a little time doing some packing before Rod and I went to Jette's for a games night. We ordered Olive Garden take out, and when Lori bailed, we played a couple of card games and decided to head out to see what Edmonton was doing on a Saturday night.

Because it's warmer then usual for this time of year, there were many line-ups to get into the bars on Whyte Ave, and even line-ups to get into normally slower bars on Jasper Ave. We had briefly considered going to Blues on Whyte, but I was getting tired before we even left Jette's and I was in trakkies and a thermal shirt because I had intended not to be seen in public. And as we drove around and I got more and more tired, I wondered, what happened to the little slip of a girl in me who used to hit the dance floors at 9 or 10 and only come off at 2 or 3?

I stopped drinking about 4 or so years ago. I was not an alcoholic or anything. I suffered from Idiot-Binge-Drinker disease. I've always been insanely competitive, and I used to have to drink myself under the table in order to prove to the guys I hung out with that I could drink them under the table first. By the time I moved to Edmonton in 1997 though, I was slowing down. But I still had the problem of not knowing when to stop, and even worse, I appeared well enough that the bar staff never cut me off, so I would inevitably get so plowed, I'm sure my clothes were soaked in liquor. But I *loved* to dance, so I would never say no to a bar night.

A slight near-alcohol poisoning moment at a staff x-mas party back in 2000 made me allergic to alcohol now. I've had what amounts to about 2 glasses of wine in 4 years. I just can't do it. But then after putting a stop to the binge drinking, I started to get fewer and fewer invites to bar nights, and as my friends got older and slowed their drinking down, we were less and less inclined to go out dancing.

Last year in Vancouver, the conference I was attending arranged a bar night at Voda, and I was finally going to get to go out dancing. It ended up being only me and Trafton from the U of A delegation, but we knew conference people, so it was all cool. But literally, I hit the dancefloor and stayed there until after midnight when Trafton wanted to leave. He told everyone the next day that I was a "Dancing Machine", and I couldn't have been more pleased to hear it. It felt damn good.

So last night, when the idea was floated to go out and I rejected it, I began to wonder what the hell was wrong with me? When did I get old? The answer came to me this morning when the Tiny Terror was doing bad things that made me get out of bed to chase her off....'Crap...I got old when I stopped drinking!'

In an entirely separate matter though, I'm almost done packing, and as of now, we are at 39 hours and counting. Which is why the bedroom looks like a freak clothing typhoon hit it. Suitcases and shoes and clothes everywhere.

Thanks Gail

This afternoon, I finally got around to checking out the Blog of my illustrious-but-still-unmet friend Gail, and I think I need to give a big shout out to her for increasing my readership to something 7 people, more than double what it was. Of course, I'm being a little sarcastic about the numbers. Not much, just a little. But at any rate, this crazy nutter who I've never met in real life saw fit to slap 'Now What?' up in her blog, and now people are discovering the unpaid genius behind the madness.

So, until I figure this whole new-fangled "blogspot" technology, find Gail here:
http://gailontheweb.blogspot.com/

And don't forget to wish her and David the best of luck in their endeavors as Husband and Wife.

PS - the swelling from this morning's lesson in Sado-Masochism 101 has mostly subsided, and I think I can almost uncross my eyes, so yay me!

Hair Removal: Is it worth it?

Okay, now, for those of you squeamish-type folks out there who don't take to tales of pain very well, skip over this entry. There...you've been disclaimed.

This morning I had an appointment at Eveline Charles downtown for a full leg and bikini wax in preparation for bikini season in Cancún. I've had waxing done before, and while it's not the most pleasant experience in the world, it's usually not as dramatically/comically painful as Hollywood would lead the uninitiated to believe. Take some Advil or Tylenol or whatever before you go, and the swelling and pain isn't so terrible.

The Esthetician, Kathy, was very thorough and pleasant. Once I told her the purpose of my visit, she determined that a lot of waxing needed to be done on the bikini line. And by gawd...she took off hair I didn't even know existed. I'm talking about hair that hasn't seen the light of day ever. Of course, it looks nice and I won't have to worry about stray pubic hairs in my bikinis, but WOW!! or should that be OW!! Since some of the hair waxed off today had never been waxed off before, it's all the more sensitive to suddenly being ripped from my body in the most insanely painful fashion. Kathy did her best to minimize the pain, but there's nothing short of Aenesthesia that can help.

Indeed, even now, as the stinging continues, I have to ask myself if it was worth it. The answer is this: In today's wonderfully-advancing society, with technology coming as easily as a homecoming queen in the back seat of a Ford, how is it that we have not come up with affordable and painless ways to rid oneself of body hair? I *hate* body hair. Beyond being unsightly, I know that body hair traps and holds onto odors and I'm not into smelling nasty. So I would remove body hair in an instant *IF* I didn't have to suffer to do so. I hear about laser hair removal, and I think gee, that sounds good, but it sounds incredibly painful on my wallet. So I schlep by with razors that miss things and forms of torture that involve violent ripping motions.

This is a personal issue every person having graduated from puberty school has to wrestle with...to remove or not to remove, that is the question. I think next time I'm in the mood to be masochistic, I'll just let Rod beat me with a spiked baseball bat instead.

You can take the girl out of the North....

I guess that old proverb is something I can't escape.

This morning on the front page of the University of Alberta website, there was an Express article about a study done by an advanced degree nursing student, or whatever, about how women in the North cope with the long winters. I opened the article, eager to see in print what I already knew instinctively, and 3 paragraphs in, I found out the study took place in Northern British Columbia.

No offense to residents of Northern British Columbia, but it ain't exactly the frozen wastelands of the Far North. There are trees, and highways, and the breed of people there are entirely different from the breed you'd run across in the Arctic and Sub-Arctic. This study said one way of coping is that the women of "the north" tend to get involved with outdoor pursuits like skiing and fishing and camping, and when it gets a little too cold, they move on to indoor pursuits like painting and quilting and civic volunteering. I'm sorry lady, but 25 women in B.C. do not a comprehensive study in Northern Coping make.

Women in the far north don't go outside unless they have to (with exceptions like taking part in hunts, etc.) in -30 to -50 degree weather. They watch a lot of TV, and deal with their kids, and talk on the phone. They don't so much "cope" with the North as they do "ignore" it. In the far North the communities are small and isolated, and there tend to be almost no highways which would provide a chance to get away. You want out, you have to pay the price of a small fortune to fly out. Sure, there must be some communities in Northern B.C. that are just as isolated, but hell, I'm not going to feel sorry for them because according to this *huge* study, they've got warmer climates for skiing and mountains and hippie quilting bees. And they've got trees. I had cable and a telephone. And a big, ugly, embarassing parka that went down to my boot tops (hey, you try looking cool and attractive to others wearing a 6-inch thick muumuu).

The weird thing is that I hate the North with such an incredible passion (because I'm from it), and here I am getting my hackles up over a silly little thing as blanket statements about coping in two distinctly different regions. I guess I'm offended by the characterization of being a painting, fishing, quilting hippie-president of a civic group for the preservation of antique moose antlers or something.

The Vast Boardshort Conspiracy

Yes folks, that's right...it's a conspiracy. Ready to dismiss my words with skepticism? Ready to call me a paranoid crackpot? Well, let me tell you! Beware! The Swimwear Industry is in on the biggest conspiracy since the Donut Industry's decision to support the Tim Horton's plan to sell frozen donuts! Before you dismiss me, hear my arguments. Let me lay out the facts:

Yours truly is the victim of a tragic combination of effects that have been manipulated by the Swimwear Industry. I own 5 bathing suits. A blue one-piece, a black tankini with boy-cut shorts, a blue and white-flowered bikini, a blue and green-tropical bikini, and a yummy brown bikini with beading. I own 1 rashguard in black. I own 1 pair of boardshorts, mid-thigh length in black. Naturally, the black shorts are too long to look good with the bikinis, so I find myself in need of a pair of short boardshorts. And because I *need* something, it's going to become a big production because of the whole "Universe is working against me" Conspiracy.

Dear readers, I spent 4 fruitless hours wondering 3 different malls yesterday, including the Largest Mall in the World (West Edmonton Mall), and I did not prevail. Here's where the conspiracy reveals itself: Everything is too long, too ugly, too pink, too small or too big. Think us little stick-insect people have no trouble shopping for clothes? Think again! The Swimwear Industry collaborated with the Donut Industry over the last year to affect a change in the size of my bottom that would make finding the right size in the right style with the right colours impossible.

But the conspiracy doesn't end there. No, it gets more insidious. I did manage to find a pair that were the right colour and length at Intersport in Southgate Mall, but they were too big. The Intersport at West Ed is closing and have sold out of these shorts. I found these shorts again at the Chocolate Bikini Company at West Ed, but they were too damn small. The Billabong Website shows absolutely no traces of the company ever having produced these mythical perfect boardshorts.

I have 3 more malls to try, but it will all come to nothing! Beware of the Swimwear Industry! Help expose the Vast Boardshort Conspiracy! Fie! Fie!

Strung-together thoughts on Roe v. Wade

On this day in 1973, the U.S. Supreme Court handed down their famous decision on legalizing Abortion using a trimester system. The woman behind this case was Norma McCorvey who has now come out as a huge Anti-Abortion campaigner who blames her lawyers for forcing her to go through with the case, and who has become a rabid version of a born-again Christian. I saw her on Hard Talk with Tim Sebastian on BBC last year, and he literally ripped her a new one. She kept trying to bring her faith into her answers and denying that she was at fault. Talk about delusional.

What a hot button issue. Abortion. By now, you could guess how I feel about it without my having to explain my position. I'm entirely pro-choice. The way I see it, no one has the right to tell me what I can and cannot do with my own body. Would I have an abortion myself? I'm not sure. When I was younger I would have said probably not, but when I was younger, I wasn't a survivor of sexual assault. It has been more than 8 years and I've had plenty of time and support in dealing with it and getting over it for the most part, but when it happened, it was like I grew a spine of steel, and no one else was going to get to determine what happens to my body ever again. That's my job.

So now, when the U.S. is taking a big swing to the Right in general, and there are very real reasons to fear that Roe v. Wade is overturned, I am supremely glad that I live in Canada. I find the Right Wing very enigmatic. This is a political grouping that tends towards wanting smaller government with less interference in people's lives, yet what they seem to want is for that small government to legislate everyone's morality. The Left on the other hand, wants to legislate everyone's opportunities.

Freedom of Opportunity is the real basis for Roe v. Wade. Women aren't saying that they want Abortion en masse. They are saying if we so choose as an individual, no government should stop us. It's using the Right's own arguments of 'Less government involvement' against them.

Oh well. Time for breakfast.

Updates anyone?

Well, as I suspected, the Spanish Catholic Church isn't quite as ready to progress with the rest of society. This turned up in today's New York Times:

But after hours of silence, the Conference of Catholic Bishops issued an unsigned statement late Wednesday saying Mr. Martínez Camino's comments "must be understood in the context of Catholic doctrine, which holds that the use of contraceptives implies immoral sexual behavior."
"It is not true that the Spanish Church has changed its doctrine on contraceptives," the statement said.
Several Roman Catholic leaders in Spain suggested Wednesday that Mr. Martínez Camino had misspoken or expressed only his personal views that were not representative of his organization.

Mr. Martínez Camino ironically enough, was on the record as late as November 2004 as being very much anti-condoms. So what sparked his change? And can it be duplicated with other Church officials?

Spain's population is made up of Catholics to the tune of 80%, but in a recent poll, 70% of those surveyed said the Catholic Church was out of step with society (which could lead to increasing irrelevance--just what Chris always wanted), and 60% generally disagreed with the Church's position on social issues.

Now, the big question some of you may be pondering is just why an avowed Atheist like myself cares about Church positions on social issues. Well, there are several reasons to care really. The first reason is that the Church and Organized Religion still be a huge role around the world in influencing the memberships. So any step that these churches/religions take towards promoting a more realistic doctrine of social perscriptions, the less people there are resisting what have come to be viewed as common sense measures of prevention. Humans are fallible, and you can't put up "moral" or "religious" boundaries and expect 100% compliance 100% of the time. So let's have something to fall back on. Don't feel like waiting until Marriage? At least use a condom to minimize your risks of contraction of STDs and HIV/AIDS.

The second reason is that no matter how strongly I believe that there is no god, there are others who believe there is, and who am I to tell them they have to change their views? Really, if the prostylization is kept to a minimum on both sides, we can be happy campers, because my belief that when I'm dead, that's it really shouldn't affect the life of someone who believes in the hereafter, and so on. Live and let live, or whatever.

Wanna see why I should never go into Marketing?

I just finished reading in the New York Times that the Spanish Catholic Church has actually come out and endorsed the use of Condoms in slowing the transmission of HIV. Picture Fancy sitting there with a quizzical smile on her face going, "Damn! Now *that's* progress!"

The Spanish Bishops met with the Health Ministry or whatever, and have agreed to endorse the 'ABC' plan, which is aimed at stopping the spread of HIV/AIDS. The plan calls for Abstinence, Being Faithful, Condoms. And I'm thinking that there's no bloody way this would ever have happened under the former Right wing Government of Aznar. So wow! Go Bishops! The question is though, will they stand their ground and continue to vocally support a plan that calls for the use of Condoms, or will they turn tail and run as soon as The Vatican poopoos the idea? I certainly hope it's the former and not the latter.

So I've decided to throw my own cheeky support behind the 'ABC' plan in spite of myself (because I think Abstinence, while a great idea, isn't entirely practical), and in showing this support, I've come up with a few slogans for the Church and the plan:

• Condoms: In case A and/or B fail
• Condoms: Because we're humans, not saints
• Consider Abstinence: Because George and Barbara Bush didn't and look what we're stuck with
• Be Faithful: Because Murder in the Heat of Passion is defensible
• La Iglesia Catolica d'España: Because a little common sense never hurt anyone
• Abstinence: 10 out of 10 Bishops recommend it

And that's all my feeble mind could come up with before my attention span went WHHHEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!

Outposts?

Today, Condi Rice sat there in front of the Senate, the camera and the world and talked about "Outposts of Tyranny." What's this? Well...she said, "In our world there remain outposts of tyranny and America stands with oppressed people on every continent... in Cuba, and Burma (Myanmar), and North Korea, and Iran, and Belarus, and Zimbabwe." And I'm thinking what the hell? I guess 'Axis of Evil' was the catchphrase for the first Shrubya Administration. Out with the old, in with the new! Welcome to the world "Outposts of Tyranny"!

Is it just me, or it this Administration getting more and more ridiculous? I mean, seriously! Who comes up with this stuff? Who's writing US Policy, Danielle Steele? Are we to be subjected to further moronic euphamisms and flowery language for another 4 years? When exactly did the Commander-in-Chief's job become spouting poetic crap instead of talking straight with Americans?

Furthermore, if Condi's so bloody smart, why does she sound like a bloody idiot when listing these outposts? "...and...and...and...and...and..." Bloody hell woman, have someone check a speech in front of the Senate for grammar and punctuation. I can fuck up my language here in the old blog, but you can bet if I'm about to go into a room to try to convince people to hire me for a big job, I'm going to make sure I sound absolutely fucking BRILLIANT.

Outposts of Tyranny? Well hell then, add my apartment to the list. I oppress Rod and restrict his civil rights all the time! "...in Cuba, and Burma, and North Korea, and Iran, and Belarus, and Zimbabwe, and Apartment #510."

Jewelry as the cause of and solution to all of life's problems

Rod and I decided this morning that we'd get this Costco business out of the way. We talked to Jette and Chris, and in the end, Chris came along. We drove down to the Southside and as we were pulling up into the parking lot, I realized that it was empty. Big Sign: "We've moved! Now at 26-something or other 91 st" So off we went in search of the new location. It was very snazzy. The outside was painted a soft brown and it looked much nicer than some ugly little rundown warehouse. The inside is way better because it's well lit, insulated, and the tire section is off in some unseen location, which makes the new warehouse much nicer.

But almost as soon as I walked in there, I wanted to slam my head against the nearest brick wall. See, some of you aren't aware, but there's a sordid little story of rejected marriage proposals and a ring. I bought a ring because it was beautiful, and because the type of engagement ring I really wanted was going to be way too expensive, so I figured I might as well ensure that I get something I like. Originally, I wanted a radiant-cut diamond, surrounded by smaller stones in a square setting, with a yellow gold band. It's an antique look. What I bought was a lovely oval Sapphire (because I *Love* sapphires) encircled by small diamonds in a sunburst pattern, completed by a yellow gold band with 6 small diamonds.

Well, I scouted the jewelry counter immediately because it's always fun to look at jewelry, and what should I find, but nearly the exact ring I wanted originally. It was set in white gold, which I'm not fond of, but there it was nonetheless...my expensive dream ring staring back at me, mocking me, and for a steal at about $640 plus GST. The ring I have was about $450. Chris remarked how he expected that engagement rings were supposed to cost 3 months salary, and joked about how paying $12,000 or something for them. Ah, but when it comes to jewelry, I have surprisingly simple tastes. I much prefer sapphires to diamonds, yellow gold to white gold or platinum, and as long as it's not gaudy, and it is designed tastefully, I'm quite happy. I think he was surprised by my somewhat inexpensive choices.

So now I have to lament that life has played another cruel joke on me. I found the closest thing to my dream ring, and I can't have it. Ironically, I'm not so much upset that I'm not anywhere near getting engaged anytime soon, since Rod's not ready. I'm upset that I actually got to meet my choice in rings in person (instead of in a magazine), and I can't have it. Picture Fancy. Picture Fancy pouting, little bottom lip quivering, eyes glistening from holding back big, fat crocodile tears. I'll say yes to the first man or woman who presents my ring to me with a proposal, regardless of a lack of an actual relationship, that's how crazy I am about this ring.

But the joke in all of this is that I have a perfectly good ring already, and when, in 25 years time, Rod is ready for marriage, the pressure is off of him to have to look for a ring. Think I should pawn the old ring and put a down payment on the nearly perfect one? I know it won't get used, but it would be so nice to have tucked away somewhere where I can take it out and look at it from time to time and smile smugly cause I own it. Doing so would add to my already-eccentric charms, and when I'm 75, living alone with 300 cats, all the kids on my block will whisper about crazy old lady Poitras hugging a ring on her front steps. Now there's a picture for you!

When did I lose my touch?

You know, time was, I was an okay-sorta writer. Now, I can't write to save my tiny hiney.

I'm going through my crap poetry, getting it all ready to make it's silly debut online, and at the same time, I'm coming across a lot of prose that I've written over the years, and instead of cringing in shame that I was compelled to put pen to paper, I've actually wondered why I never developed some things more fully. I mean, the real test of whether my writings are any good is if I find myself amused when reading them, because I'm the worst critic of myself and everyone else, and little amuses me. So if, years on, I am still amused...I have to wonder why I stopped.

I'm not publishing-worthy, but writing always soothed me and killed a few hours when I had nothing to do. I think the problem is that I'm not miserable enough. I always wrote when I was hurting, mad, upset, depressed, etc., and right now, all's well. My seasonal depression is under control (thanks to the Cancún trip), Rod and I are getting along just fine, and I'm almost done school. Everything's just ducky. Which doesn't bode well for the creative forces. Eh. Whatever. I guess I could put all of my energy into the blog and keep you 4 readers glued ooey-blooey to your screens.

In other news, Rod may have lost over 200 pictures we've taken over this past year, and after conferring with Jette, I've come to the decision that it must be time to have Rod put to sleep. It's far more humane than me beating or yelling him to death. I know it's not his fault his hard drive went belly up, but it's his fault for not transferring the contents of the shared folder to the new hard drive before the old one martyred itself in the name of bad computer parts everywhere. Not amused.

WMDs my Ass

I was right. Gee, it happens so often, it's getting a little boring.

Today, Charles Duelfer said he was going to make some minor revisions to his interim report from October, but essentially, the White House has confirmed that official inspections and searches for any Weapons of Mass Destruction have been called off, having found nothing. Sad, pathetic, ridiculous.

Sad: It's so sad that so many people have died in Iraq after being led there by the Pied Piper George W. Bush and he's merry little band of lying billionaires.

Pathetic: It's pathetic that so many people still put their trust in a leader who duped half of an entire country into giving him the mandate.

Ridiculous: We get to look forward to 4 fucking more fucking years. Fuck.

And no one can point their fingers at Rod or I and accuse us of being duped. Our distrust of George W. Bush is so massive from the very start of his run at the Presidency that we were on the record at the time of his attempts to justify going into Iraq as saying (direct quote), "PFFFFFFFT." That's right. Shrubya opened his mouth, and we just rolled our eyes because he had ZERO cred with us.

I said there was no way there were WMDs in Iraq; Even before the High Priests of Neo-Conservativism like William Safire jumped on it, I knew that the UN's Oil-for-Food programme was corrupt. Everyone knew. What has Saddam been doing since 1991? Getting fatter, older, more senile and more despotic, but more importantly, he was too busy getting rich to pay attention to the fact that there was no way his quest for WDMs was being fulfilled because all the money was going into private accounts.

I said most of the weapons and production capabilities were dismantled after the Inspections of the early 90's. I said that whatever weapons were hidden away from those inspections were most likely sold off to make more money. I sarcastically asked, "What, is the *snicker* Coalition of the Willing going to supply their troops with shovels and tell them to dig up the whole country until they hit pay-WDMs?"

Sometimes it's good to be a cynic. It saves face and allows me the privilege of pointing, laughing and jumping about triumphantly chanting 'Told you So' over and over and over again.

Not quite me

You Are Ani Difranco! Honest, real, and well liked. You're not limited by any boundaries. "And you can call me crazy But I think you're as lazy as white paint on the wall" Who's Your Inner Rock Chick? Take This Quiz :-) Find the Love of Your Life (and More Love Quizzes) at Your New Romance.

I don't think I've ever been well-liked.

You're Fiji!

As calm, relaxed, and removed from life as they come, you're just so
chilled out, it hurts people to see you.  Everyone aspires to be where you are, but
most of them just can't put their stress away.  Little do they know that even you
sometimes have inner turmoil and struggles!  For the most part, though, it's sun and
fun for you, and that's the way you like it.  It's just sort of hard to get things
done with all that partying.
Take
the Country Quiz at the href="http://bluepyramid.org">Blue Pyramid

"We" time

Yes, it happened. It was bound to really. 9 days into the New Year, and Rod and I have our first fight of 2005. This one was really tame. Mostly because I locked myself in the bathroom and didn't come out until the fight was nearly over because I knew I'd have the urge to punch him if I was face to face with him. The fight boiled down to Rod's addiction to computer games, particularly at this moment, World of Warcraft.

I've been more patient, understanding and reasonable than I have about his games in the past, and even he has to openly admit this, but yesterday, he started playing when I asked him not to. So I locked myself in the bathroom and contemplated walking out for the night. I wouldn't have told him, I just would have gone. But I didn't and instead, we discussed, loudly at times, how games are and always have gotten in the way of *us*. Things were mostly resolved, though he still doesn't get why I was so upset, and I can't explain it any clearer than I did, so we'll just keep plugging along until the next fight.

One of the things that came out of the fight was that it's really clear that "We" needs some work. Right now "We" doesn't actually register a lot of time inside the house because he likes games and I like TV. He wants to read while I want to spout random thoughts and bits of information at any given second and converse. I'm bossy, and he's stubborn. We don't play board games that often because I usually kick his ass all over the board (unless it's Monopoly because I just lose all my money buying hotels), and being beaten so often must be a blow to his fragile Male ego (I know it's a blow to my fragile Male ego when I lose).

I will clarify that "We" happens a lot more in the summer time when I'm not petrified to go outside. We'll go to the park and kick the ball around a bit or go for walks, we'll drive around, we'll up and run off to Calgary for the day, etc. In the Winter, it's very hard to be a "We" outside because I hate the cold and won't go sledding, skiing, walking, etc. There are just some things I won't compromise on...cold is one of them. And inside, who has time or energy to be a "We" with over 100 channels on TV and the geeky world of online gaming beckoning you?

At any rate, rest assured my whole 3 readers or whatever: Rod and I are fine, all is well-ish. Now if only he'd wash the floors like he said he would....4 weeks ago.

You mean, *pay* for music?

Yes, I know this concept confuses some, but it still does happen. For instance, I broke with tradition today and bought a CD. It was a very weird feeling. Too weird. But you see, it's easily defensible. I actually wanted more than like, 2 or 3 songs off the album. I never buy an album unless I can actually say that I like more than a few songs because really, it's a waste of time and money to buy a mediocre album for a couple of hits. That's what downloading is for!

I bought 'Hot Fuss' by The Killers. Never heard of them? They are a sort of synth-glam-rock band out of Las Vegas, with a couple of hits on the charts right now. To shamelessly advertise, find them at http://www.islandrecords.com/thekillers/site/home.las

Now, to this file-swapping controversy, I would like to point out that these sites where you pay to download sure have a lot of points that make them better than the Free sites: secure downloads; safe, controlled environments; excellent quality, etc. But the Free sites let you search out those really obscure songs that most people wouldn't be caught dead paying to download. You know, those really hard to find ones that were semi-popular in like, 1975 or whatever. The non-chartbusters. Somewhere out in Free-SwapLand, there's a fan who's got what you are looking for.

Rod's home now, and he's practically dancing around, wanting to play World of Warcraft because he's a frigging junkie. So I guess, excellent and long-suffering girlfriend that I am, I'll turn over the computer to the big baby.

An update to pissing me off

Yes, Bob Layton opened his big, bogus, reprehensible trap and unleashed another barrage of small-minded stupidity over the unsuspecting viewers of the 6 pm Global Edmonton newscast. And NO ONE WAS AROUND FOR ME TO BITCH TO!

He starts by commenting that Paul Martin has said that in spite of his Roman Catholic background, he has voiced support for the Gay Marriage legislation. Bob then goes on to talk about the 15 or so marriage commissioners in Western Canada who have resigned over the Gay Marriage thing because they cannot condone gay marriage. THEN, Bob opens his trap and says that Paul Martin is finally showing POLITICAL leadership, and the Marriage Commissioners are showing MORAL leadership. Excuse me? Is it not also moral to protect minority rights from the tyranny of the majority? Is it not moral that in a country that STRONGLY advocates the separation of Church and State, the leader puts aside his personal religious considerations in order to ensure that constitutional rights are being upheld?

I'm flabbergasted that I am defending Paul Martin, because I am a Reform Liberal, and I can't stand his Classical Liberalism and pandering, but still, I have to give the man his due here.

Bob Layton. What an ass.

The Hard Sell

Today Rod and I went to Jette's gym to see about this free 2-week deal. We sat down with Ron who asked us a lot of questions that I didn't see as being relevant to our fitness goals, and he didn't ask if there were any restraints on those goals, I had to volunteer that information myself. Still, I was okay with everything. I'm just going to use the University's gym since I'm already paying fees for that in my tuition, but Rod was interested. We toured the facilities, talked about classes and stuff, and then we went back to sit down. And the Sell was on.

Sign-ups are never easy. You have to usually weigh the costs and benefits against your finances and commitments, and in the end, life asks you to make a sacrifice of some sort. The deal they were pitching today was an okay one. But things went downhill for me when he pulled out the "and we just got "x" communiqué from higher up saying we could offer you this crazy-low deal, but we don't know how long it's going to last" bit. Having worked in retail and sales before, I knew where I had heard that before. They didn't know I wasn't going to join, but it doesn't hurt to have backup in a pressure-sale situation. Rod held his own by insisting that their options would not work to our advantage before we leave for Cancun. Any money he spent signing up now would just be less to have for Mexico.

Then Ron brought over Vimy. She's the manager of sales or whatever. And she puts in her two cents (Which is to say, advising us to just take the deal). Still, the mighty Rod would not yield. They tried another sales pitch involving addendums and payments. No luck. Then they pulled out the "longer term contract means cheaper fees" bit, but true, sensible, cheap man that Rod is, he held out and said, "We'll take our chances in two weeks time!"

You see, dear readers, Fancy is an extremely difficult sell on big ticket items. I don't trust people to begin with, and I trust sales people even less, *unless* I know there's a non-commissioned structure in place, in which case, I may be inclined to trust slightly more. If you want me to part with a lot of my money, you have to explain in explicit detail what the benefits are to me to do so. And what's trickier for the poor sales people is that I come with a very attuned "Bullshit detector". Do not ever try the old Fishing tactics with me. I can tell instantly that someone is lying to me when they tell me that X item is the last one in stock and they've already had other interested buyers approach them. I know how inventory works, and my response 99% of the time goes something along the lines of "Too bad, I guess they can have it." Because really, if the sales person was being honest, they would tell me that no, they don't have X item, but they could direct me to somewhere that may also supply it. Do not tell me these are the last pair of shoes in the city when you have 5 other stores in the city to contact. Because I'll just go to a different chain store altogether and get better shoes at an infinitely better price.

You will see no "SUCKER" signs plastered on me any time soon.

The Non-drinker's Hangover

Welcome to Fancy's 2005. So far, it's okay.

Rewind to yesterday. I know. It was a whole year ago. I spent all morning ironing Rod's pants, and then I spent an hour ironing my silver dress. I decided to wear the black one instead. I did up my hair and make up and DAMN if I wasn't looking good. I woulda tried to pick myself up if I could. Rod looked good too of course, cause I made him suit up.

We hit a few bumps in the plans, but otherwise, we managed to get Jette and Derek over to the Coast Terrace Inn alright, where we met with Lori and Rob, and Hillary and Glen. An older couple rounded out our table. The buffet was good and the 18-piece orchestra was very good. Rod and I got some dancing in and at midnight, it just felt good to be doing something more grown up than sitting around in jeans, watching people get drunk. It was an excellent evening.

Fast forward to today. I woke up early because Rod was snoring so much, and when I tried to go for a nap after he woke up, the cats were being pests. I have a headache caused by neck pain, and I'm still tired. Who knew doing my hair and spending all the time looking up at Rod on the dance floor would result in such pain? But I wouldn't take back any of last night. It was well worth it.

Tonight, it's on to Jette's for a game night, so no rest for the weary.