Lump of Coal

I. am. not. happy.

A two day bathroom reno project has turned into a fucking nightmare because the contractor we hired clearly can't read.

We bought this tub: http://www.lyonsindustries.com/bath-collection/seawave-wall/

We sent the contractor the installation instructions before he provided us the quote. He quoted us and said it would take him 2 days maximum to put it in AND he could get it done before Christmas.

Now it's Christmas Eve and my bathroom has been torn to pieces with no end in sight because the contractor didn't "realize" what was "required" to "install" our tub. SERIOUSLY?!?! I SENT YOU THE INSTRUCTIONS!!!!!!!

And I really don't get how he works only two hours at a time and then calls it a day. The amount of money we are paying him for this job is the equivalent of TWO WEEKS pay for me. He has so far put in exactly 4 hours. I have to put in 75 hours to make that kind of money.

Merry effing Christmas to us. I hope our families don't mind running up and down the stairs to use the bathroom in the basement since the one on the main floor has been DESTROYED.

Seasons of Love

Tomorrow will mark one year since I left the Tdot to settle into life in the Niagara Peninsula. Three hundred and sixty-five days ago. Or as Jonathan Larson wrote, "Five hundred, twenty-five thousand, six hundred minutes".

I have to say it doesn't feel like a year. Is that a good thing? You know, time flies when you're having fun and all that.

I will admit there have been several moments where I've wanted to pack up my stuff and move back to the city. But not because I don't love my new life, I just miss parts of my old one.

I mostly miss the vibe of Toronto. St. Catharines has no vibe. Really none. I've looked!

And I really miss just being able to hop on the subway after work and head off to do whatever my heart desires - meet with friends for dinner or see the latest musical to hit a Mirvish stage or to catch a cool new band on a Tuesday night.

But I wouldn't trade the last 365 days for any of that. I love my husband. I love my home. I love how close I am to my family and my 3 BFFs.

I just have to figure out a way to move the cultural centre of Canada closer to St. Catharines. Looks like it's already starting.

867-5309

I eat lunch here a lot: http://karines.wordpress.com/

The owner Maggie takes orders while her daughter Karine cooks.

I always order the same thing. I'm like that with every restaurant I visit. I find something on the menu I really like and that's the only thing I order from then until the end of time.

So this is the exchange that happens between me and Maggie every time I go there. (And let me just say again that I go there a  lot.)

Maggie: Hello baby! What can I get for you?

Me: Grilled cheese and fries.

Maggie: Regular fries or garlic fries?

Me: Regular fries.

Maggie: For here or to go?

Me: To go.

Maggie: Okay baby. And your name...Jenny right?

Me: Paprika.

Maggie: Oh yes, Paprika!  Oh one day baby I will get it right!

I find it really fascinating that she wants to call me Jenny because as a child, I had always wanted my name to be either Jenny or Jennifer.

My best friend as a child was Jenny Birmingham. She had long blonde hair, blue eyes and a cute little nose that turned up at the end. To me, she was the prettiest girl in the world.  I wanted to be just like her. Being a dark, ethnic kid, I was astounded that she picked me as her BFF.

In my 6 year old brain, if my name had been Jenny, I would have ended up with blonde hair, blue eyes and the perfect nose.

I often wonder what happened to Jenny and her perfect nose.

Pass Me A Glass

In the last month, four of my girlfriends have announced the joyous news of being pregnant. And one of my girlfriends is in the final stages of getting approved for adoption.

So I've got five expectant mothers in my circle of close friends.  If there's something in the water, I want a drink!

Summer 2012 is gonna be a baby bonanza!

Winning

In my Spam folder today:

From: YAHOO MAIL LOTTERY
Subject: CONGRATULA​TIONS!! YOU HAVE WON GBP£1,000,​000.00(OPE​N THE ATACH FILE)

I would have fallen for it, but the prize being in British Pounds is what gave it away.

Bahahahahahaaaaa. :D

Strike Two

Much to my surprise, I got my period this morning. I was so shocked I gasped loud enough that The Comedian heard me from the bedroom.

The shock is threefold - I didn't feel the usual bloating and aches, it is 2 days ahead of schedule and if I knew it was going to be this hard to get pregnant, I would have chucked out my birth control years ago.

Everyone I know in my closest circle of friends got knocked up immediately out of the gate.

So of course, I'm now convinced there's something horribly wrong with my reproductive tract.

What a way to kick off the work week. :(

I Am Smokin' Hot, But I Don't Smoke

I have this amazing ability to attract crazy people everywhere I go. It happened this morning on my bus ride into work.

This kid who looked to be about 20, jumped up from his seat and ran back towards where I was sitting wearing a pair of aviator sunglasses with the tag still attached. He plopped himself down in the seat across the aisle from me and yanked the glasses off.

"Is that St. Joseph's Hospital?" and pointed out the window.

I took a look, "Yes it is."

"I woke up and was like, whoa! Where am I? And I looked out the window and saw the hospital."

Then he rambled on about a bunch of stuff, including the fact that he knows the woman who came up with the concept for the CN Tower Edge Walk.  Apparently, she "has an accent but is an okay person."

I pulled out my Blackberry and pretended to be doing really important stuff on it in the hopes he would get the hint and stop talking to me. I texted The Comedian to let him know about my new friend.

He stopped talking for a little while and I breathed a small sigh of relief. The silence didn't last long.

"So when we get to the bus terminal, did you want to go for a smoke?"

It took a lot of willpower not to laugh directly in his face. I told him that I had to get to work.

"Oh. Okay. Well...um...I like to talk, you know? And you're a pretty girl."

Uh huh.  I turned my attention back to my Blackberry once more.

As we approached the first stop at Union station, I made my move towards the front of the bus so I could be in position to jump out at the following stop.

He jumped up and rushed towards me.

"Hey! Maybe we can have a smoke some other time?"

I turned towards him and noticed the rest of the passengers waiting for my response.

"I don't smoke, and I'm married."

The look on his face was as if he had just lost his best friend. I think he was probably more sad about the fact that I don't smoke.

Cut Off

I didn't make it through to the next round of Canada's Got Talent.

*le sigh*

I suppose there's always next year!

Dear Me

Dear Paprika,

I know you're having a bit of a moment, but know that you will be okay. It's okay. It's fine. You're fine. Everyone is fine.

Try not to think too much about everything. That's where you tend to get into trouble.

Oh and for seriously, IT'S FINE!

Sincerely,
Paprika***

***This message has been brought to you by a very nice bottle of red Cabernet Merlot.

Happy Halloween

Myself and The Comedian as Santana and Sue Sylvester. Clearly he loves me if he was willing to dress as a woman.  Hope you all had a Gleeful Halloween!

Strike One

Five tests and one period later, I'm not pregnant.

I really thought I was because my period was 4 days late and the last two pregnancy tests I took came back with questionable results.
Oh well. We'll try again once the great red flood finishes. Which by the way, isn't as awful as I remember it from when I was 18. But definitely worse than the 18 years since.

The silver lining in all this is I get to drink my face off at the Halloween party we are hosting tomorrow night. Oh Jack, how I've missed you!!

LOLz

I haven't had the greatest experience interacting with the executive assistant to the CEO. She thinks she's the boss of all us administrative assistants. She's condesending, rude and a bitch. She rarely smiles and frankly, I hope she gets fired one day sooner rather than later.

I have a feeling someone has talked to her and told her to smarten the hell up.  Take a look at the last two email threads I've received from her.

------------------------------------------
From: VP
Sent: October-17-11 11:20 AM
To: GP; DM; NR; JT; AS; SK; MM
Cc: SK; KS; AS; Paprika Spice; KJ
Subject: Vacation Requests


Good morning,

This is just a note to ask that you please add LA and me as attendance coordinators when you send vacation requests.


Thank you!

VP
President's Office Manager


From: Paprika Spice
Sent: October-17-11 12:11 PM
To: VP
Subject: RE: Vacation Requests

Will you forward me JT’s requests after they’ve been approved?


p
From: VP
Sent: October-17-11 12:14 PM
To: Paprika Spice
Cc: LA


Subject: RE: Vacation Requests


LOL! Will do.


I have copied LA so she knows too...VP

------------------------------------------
From: VP
Sent: October-18-11 2:18 PM
To: SB
Cc: LA; KS; LH; AM; EM; Paprkia Spice; DS
Subject: RE: Finance Dept and the United Way


Hi All,


SB and I talked and I have also spoken to RM. We’ve decided to not go ahead with the 50/50 draw. We will continue with the Cook-off/Buffet, Bake Sale and Candy Gram...VP




From: Paprika Spice
Sent: October-18-11 3:45 PM
To: VP
Subject: RE: Finance Dept and the United Way


I have returned the money to M. She was my only customer for 50/50.


p


From: VP
Sent: October-18-11 3:48 PM
To: Paprika Spice
Subject: RE: Finance Dept and the United Way


LOL! Thanks Paprika!

Why is she laughing out loud at my responses? I have a feeling she doesn't know the meaning of LOL but has seen people use it, and figures this is the way to be perceived as a kinder and gentler executive assistant.

She ain't fooling me. I'll be LOLing when the door hits her on her ass on the way outta here.

To Add or Not To Add

I have only a handful of coworkers as friends on Facebook. As much as I would like to think the people I spend 8 hours a day with are my friends, I've learned the hard way they are in fact, not.
I have always been a person who will hand you my trust from the moment we meet. And then at some point shortly thereafter, my trust will be shattered and I'm left picking up the pieces.

As I've moved from job to job, I've been putting myself out there less and less. It took me a whole year at my present position before I even considered adding anyone from work to Facebook.

Soooo, last night I got a friend request from one of my managers. While I don't report directly to him, the bulk of the work I do is for him.

I am at a loss as what to do. He and his wife (who is another coworker) came to my wedding, so we're good enough "friends" that I wanted him there. But I don't want him to know that I go on Facebook during the day. And I certainly don't want him to see my rants when I'm having a bad day at work.

My gut is telling me it's a bad idea to add him, even on limited access. But my heart is telling me that he likes me and wants to be my friend.

What do you guys think?

My CGT Audition

After waffling about whether or not I was actually going, I caught the 10am bus into the city.  I got in line at 11:30am and did not get inside to the registration desk until 2:30pm. I was given number 10501849.

We sat in the stands waiting for our block of numbers to be called. I was in the 1817-1867 group.  When we were finally called, we waited another hour to be brought up to the audition rooms.

Then it was split into groups of 10 per room, I was assigned to Room L. It was 4pm when my group was brought to outside of Room L.

Then it was 5 at a time per room. I didn't actually get inside Room L until 5:15p. And of course, I was the last one in my group.

First up was a 39 year old black lady from London. She sang an old jazz standard and got to sing the whole thing. She was sharp and flat in spots. But a nice try.

Second up was a 26 year old brown girl from Toronto. She sang a Christina Aguilera song, but one of her jazzy songs. She got to sing the whole song too. I thought she was trying her hardest to sound exactly like Christina which was boring to me.

Third up was a 20 year old white girl from Woodstock who brought her guitar. She sang a country song and got to sing the whole thing. She had a sweet voice, I liked her. She reminded me a bit of Carrie Underwood in her tone.

Fourth up was a 42 year old sex therapist from Toronto. This chick was INSANE. She was wearing a black mini dress with a long black coat and crazy leopard print stilettos. Her hair was done up as if she were going to the prom. She sang an original song called "Man Train". She got to sing the whole song. She was going on about how she wants to combine music with sex therapy. She will make it to the next round based on her level of crazy. Oh and she can't sing worth a lick.

Then it was me. I said my name, age, city and song (Piece of My Heart - Janis Joplin) for the camera.  The producer Erica asked me why I made the trip from St. Catharines. Told her up until 8 months ago I had lived in Toronto for 12 years, then met hubby and moved back home. Then these auditions came up so I had to come. Said I had a band and I did a lot of travelling back & forth for gigs. "So you're familiar with the stage". Yup, the small ones at bars with the drunks who love me and the waitresses who are nice. The drunks love me so much I have to bring hubby to protect me. Laughs from the whole room.

Then she starts my track. I start singing and you know, I'm loud. As I get to the bridge, I can't hear the track anymore so right in the middle of a lyric I say "can you turn it up?" She does and I continue. Got to do 2 verses and 2 choruses and then she cut me off. Everyone applauded when I was done and I did a dorky little curtsy.

And that was it. After everyone sang she asked them more questions. After I sang, she didn't ask me anything. I dunno if that's good or bad.

They gave us a piece of paper saying they will contact us if we make it to the next round by Oct. 31st and call backs are being held Dec 3,4 & 5. We have to do the exact same song wearing exact same outfit, hair & make up.

Here's to hoping!

Canada's Got Talent

I'm auditioning for Canada's Got Talent on Wednesday.

I. am. freaking. out.

I can't decide what song to sing. And when I ask my friends for their opinion, I get 30 different answers. My bandmates at least agree that I should do a Janis Joplin song, but they don't agree on which one.

I had my husband take my guitar to get restrung but it won't be ready until tomorrow, so I've been hacking around on my other crappy guitar that I decided I like better than my real guitar. But it needs restringing as well.

I had to reschedule my tattoo appointment, and I can't decide whether to wear heels or flats.

Oh and there's a special section in the 19 page release form that is specifically about pregnancy.

(j) Pregnancy: I recognize that participating in the Program necessarily may involve strenuous physical activities, including, without limitation, some or all of those described in this Agreement. I understand that some or all of these activities are not recommended during pregnancy. I represent and warrant that if I am pregnant or if I become pregnant during my participation in the Program, I shall notify Producer immediately.

Let's see if I'll be the first pregnant winner of a singing contest. That's if I can ever decide on a song....

End of an Era

After 41 years on television, today is the last episode of All My Children.

After 18 years of birth control, today I take my last pill.

I'll miss them both. A lot.

Taking His Name

I'm getting my husband's last name tattooed to my butt, in lieu of legally changing my last name to his.

My BFF says I'm stupid to do it. She's been married for 12 years and has never once wanted to tattoo her husband's name.  She did tattoo her kids' astro signs to her hip. But nothing for their father. LOL.

Here's the font I've picked.

Pretty eh?

My appointment is scheduled for September 28th. And lucky me, my tattoo artist is at a shop that is five minutes from my office.  She has done half of my tattoos, including the one I got to declare my freedom from my first marriage.

The only other name I have tattooed on me is Elvis. So my husband better know how damn much I love him to want to permanently etch his family name to my bum.

So Long Doc

I had my annual hand-up-in-my-junk exam with my family doctor this morning. And of course I told him I want to have a baby.

While he was poking around in there, he gave me the statistics on all the awful things that babies can be born with to mothers who are in my age bracket. I have a 1 in 365 chance of having a baby born with Down Syndrome. I will have a harder time getting pregnant, and a greater risk of miscarrying or having to deliver via C-section, which could result in low birth weight and other complications in not carrying to term.

He asked me if I would want to do genetic testing.

Nope.

He asked me if I would terminate if I knew my baby had Downs.

NOPE.

"Okay, then I guess there's no real reason to do any prenatal screening other than the usual blood work."

GREAT.

Then he asked me if I had thought about who would be my primary physician for my pregnancy.

"I'm getting a midwife."

His face fell. He looked really disappointed.

"That makes sense, you probably wouldn't want to drive back and forth for appointments as you get further along in the pregnancy. It's better you find someone closer. Well, let me know if you need any copies of your medical records. Just call me and I can get those to your midwife."

OMG, I totally broke up with my doctor!  The doctor who has looked after me since I was nine years old. The doctor who saved my life by prescribing me anti-depressents after my first marriage fell apart. The doctor who would write me sick notes and not charge me $10.

"You'll come see me for the first appointment after you've become pregnant?"

Of course I will.

Don't Force It

For The Comedian's birthday last month, I bought him a limited edition Toronto Maple Leafs wrist watch. I had to up my game from the bucket & pint glass set I got him last year.

This watch is number 1291/4999 and has the Leafs logo on the face, and on the back is engraved with "Toronto Maple Leafs", the Leafs logo and the issue number. It is beautiful and heavy and expensive.

He hasn't had the chance to wear it since I gave it to him because the band was a little too large. so we took it last night to have the band adjusted. We went to the watch & jewelery department at Sears in The Pen Centre.

We handed the watch to the clerk Wyatt and said it needed to have two links removed from the band.

Wyatt sat down at the work bench and picked up a tool that he applied to the back of the watch.  I thought it was strange seeing as every time I've ever had a watch band adjusted, the clerk would take pins out and remove links.

He was cranking on it really hard and then stopped to adjust the tool. Then he cranked on it really hard again.

In my mind I'm thinking this isn't right, but I'm not the type of person to tell someone how to do their job.

He stopped again and readjusted the tool. Then he put it on the back of the watch and cranked REALLY HARD.

Suddenly he dropped everything and said, "You wanted the band adjusted, not the battery changed!"

At this point my heart sank.  I knew what had happened without having to look.  I asked him if he had scratched the watch.  "Um, there's a small scratch."  I asked him to give me the watch.

As I had anticipated, the back plate had been rotated counter clockwise about 20 degrees and there was a GOUGE at the top, completely obliterating the word "Leafs" and the registered trademark symbol.  I actually gasped I was so shocked to see what he had done.  The Comedian had a look and his face sank.  He looked like someone had just killed his dog.

Long story short - I didn't murder him, but he will likely be out of a job today. And they will be paying for a replacement.

While we were waiting for security to show up to document the disaster, The Comedian asked Wyatt if this had ever happened before.

"Yes a few times at my last job, but never on anything worth this much."

"How long have you been working here?"

"This is my second shift."

Seriously Wyatt?!  If I have anything to say about this, your career in watch repairs will be grinding to an immediate halt.

AXHP 988

I have finally gotten rid of the absolute last physical remnant of my first marriage - my license plates.

I didn't have a car until shortly after I was married for the first time in January 2006. My ex-husband drove his car into the ground, namely by never getting an oil change.  My sister-in-law's father was selling his 1995 Sonata for dirt cheap so I decided to buy it to save my ex from having to take the bus an hour and a half each way to work.

I loved my little Sonata. It was purple, in perfect shape and had only 120,000KM on the odometer.

My ex came with me when I went to register for plates.  I was hoping to get a plate number that was cool, or at least that I could easily remember.

The branch of the MTO (DMV for my Yankee friends) I visited had the unfortunate series of AXHP.  My ex suggested I look through the stack to find a number that I liked. I pulled out 988, because I like the number 8 and they didn't have the 888 plate available.

And now 5 1/2 years later, I went back to the MTO and handed them in. I gave my car to my brother last week. He needed one and I just don't use it anymore. And with our plans for a baby, we want to buy an SUV (looks like it will be a Hyundai Tuscon!).

When I handed them in, the clerk kept asking me if I was certain I wanted to do it. Yup. Take 'em, don't need 'em.

"If you give these back, you can never have that plate number EVER AGAIN!"

I assured him I really didn't care about the plate number.

"So you're SURE you want to return these?"

YES GOVERNMENT DRONE, I AM SURE.

I am really not going to lose any sleep over never having this plate number again.  I came up with the mnemonic device "All Xrays Harm Puppies" in order to remember it.  Seriously, my heart is not breaking over this.

The clerk seemed especially attached to my plates because he asked me a THIRD time if I was sure.

Ladies and gentlemen, our tax dollars hard at work.

I signed a piece of paper that declared I understood my grave decision in releasing the plates from my ownership and they will be forever locked in a dark room with no food or water. Yeah yeah, just give me my refund assholes so I can get back to work.

Less the administration fee, I'm getting a cheque for $20.85 in 6-8 weeks. Yeeee haw!!!

So long AXHP 988. Thanks for taking me all around Toronto and surrounding GTA, to and from Niagara, and to and from Cleveland.  Oh and thanks most of all for nearly running over my ex husband. That's the greatest gift of all. ;)

Free Fall

So we've made the decision that I'm going off the pill when I finish the current package, which means I'll be swallowing my last pill in 22 days.

I'm thrilled and terrified and excited and terrified. Did I mention I'm terrified?

I haven't been off the pill since I was 18 years old. I can remember with technicolour clarity how vicious my period was prior to being on the pill. I wanted to rip out my uterus and throw it into a freezer until I needed it for childbearing. PMS would hit me so hard that I would spend days bawling my eyes out for no apparent reason. My father wanted to take me to a psychiatrist to find out why his child was a basket case.  My family doctor told him it was normal.  Yeah, I don't think wanting to commit suicide for a week out of every month would be considered quite normal however my insanity wasn't due to any other mental health issue. So my doc did the right thing by putting me on the pill. The fact that I was sexually active was really just a minor consideration.

I'm scared of having a natural period again. I'm hoping we shoot and score right out of the gate because I really don't want to see what happens after I ovulate for the first time in almost 20 years.

It's strange how I'm finding myself scared at the prospect of finally having a child, when this is something that I've always wanted.  I think it's mostly the change that will happen to my body that I'm afraid of rather than having the responsibility of raising a child - that part I can handle.  The thought of pushing that little one from my loins is what's making me freak right out.

It's a big change going from spending my entire adult life doing everything I can to prevent a pregnancy to letting it all blow in the breeze.  Weeeeeeeeeeird.

RIP HBD

Jack Layton, the leader of the New Democratic Party, passed away this morning after a battle with cancer. He was 61 years old.

Today is my Dad's birthday. He is 76 years old.

My Dad was pretty blue when I phoned him this evening to wish him a happy birthday. He's a big fan of Jack Layton and was pretty upset about his passing.  Whenever someone in the news who is younger than my Dad passes away, it really brings mortality into a sharp and painful focus for him.  And for me too. I cannot imagine a world without my father in it.  I've had to live in a world without my mother and that has never gotten any easier.

He told me he spoke with his brother this morning and felt like he was never going to see him again. My Uncle lives in Malta and has had various health issues over the last decade. Aside from my Dad, my brothers and myself, our entire family still lives across the ocean. So it's on rare occassions we get to see them. And usually it's for a wedding or a funeral.

When my Dad gets like this, I tend to yell at him mostly out of my own frustration, but also because I just want him to snap out of it. So I yelled at him to get a plane ticket and get over there if he really felt like he was never going to see his brother again. And after some more yelling on my part, he decided he would think about it.  I think I'm just going to make the decision for him and buy him a ticket to go spend part of the winter there.

As we get older, the inevitable has this really annoying way of getting in your face all the time.

I want to go find some sand and stick my head in it.

The Simple Answer to the Debt Crisis

I have the solution to the US debt crisis and pretty much to everything else.

People are happy to buy tickets to the movies. We heard about how the final Harry Potter film grossed almost $300M in its opening weekend alone.

So what I propose is this - have everyone who bought a ticket to that film buy a "ticket" to the stability of the economy. Right there, $300M will be raised in a single weekend. Then I propose that anyone who bought a ticket to any of the top 10 grossing films of the past weekend buy a "ticket". Now we're talking $1B in "sales" in a single weekend. Then take that money and put it towards the national debt.

Now of course the first thought that will cross people's minds is "Why should *I* pay for the idiocy of the government?"

Well the answer is you're already paying, it's in the form of economic collapse which could (and probably will) result in losing your job again and losing your house again and losing your will to live *again*.

People piss away the cost of a movie ticket on a daily basis. I say harness that power. I would rather buy a ticket to economic stability than to see the Harry Potter film. And when the economy is finally stabilized, I will still have a job and a home and then I can go see HP as many times as I want.

I would pass an iron clad law that the money raised in economic ticket sales be used solely to pay down the national debt. Nobody can make a dime off it. No overhead costs and no bullshit bureaucracy.

When the ticket is purchased, that money goes directly to the Treasury. The end. All banks will participate and not charge any transaction fees to move money from the citizens to the Treasury.

Then the Treasury pays it out to its creditors. Done.

I'm not saying we pay down the entire gazillion dollars owed, I'm saying we pay it down just enough that the government can get its head out of its ass long enough to get the economy back on solid footing. Oh and in that law, they can't build ticket sales into the budget. It won't ever be a source of revenue. That's what taxes are for.

If you like this idea, feel free to pass it around. Who knows, maybe we can save our economy one movie ticket at a time.

Now What?

* Find soulmate. Check.

* Move in together. Check.

* Get engaged. Check.

* Get married. Check.

* Go on honeymoon. Check.

Seriously, I don't remember much of the wedding. A few key moments here and there.  In my mind's eye I woke up, took a shower, went to the hall (which was a complete fucking disaster that almost ruined everything), went to get my hair done, and then whammo, I was eating my dinner with a shiny new ring on my finger and everyone kept saying how happy they are for us.

I do not remember the expression on The Comedian's face as I came down the aisle.  I do not remember the reading that one of his groomsmen did during the ceremony.  I do not remember saying my vows.  I vaguely remember the ring exchange and I kind of remember signing the registry.

This is why having a videographer is essential. It's not for the memories, it's for proof that the wedding actually took place!

I do remember the church was hotter than an oven. I feel that was my mother's way of letting us know she was there watching over everything.  She was probably laughing as all of us were dripping in sweat.  That'll teach us for not going to church every week.

I've been back at work for a few days now and life is normal again. But I feel like I'm missing something. Or I've missed something? Or something has gone missing?

Apparently there's such a thing as post nuptial depression.  I doubt that's what I'm experiencing, but I am feeling a bit lost.

Maybe I should just start working on making babies. :)

Long Live The King

Here are my very favourite pictures from our honeymoon in Memphis.  I could have spent another week soaking up everything Elvis. I was in absolute heaven!  I got to see my favourite singer's city with my favourite guy on earth. :)

This is at Sun Studio where we got to stand on the original studio floor and pose with the actual mic that Elvis used to record "That's Alright Mama".

Here we are at the front door of Graceland.

Me on the front steps. It took The Comedian a few minutes to get a shot where I was pretty much all by myself.  I want to live here!

Inside the front room of the house. This was my favourite of all the rooms we were allowed to see.

The Comedian with Elvis' iconic jumpsuit from the Aloha Hawaii special.

Me on the bed in our room at the Heartbreak Hotel. Sadly this hotel is a total dump. The next time we go, we're planning on staying at the Days Inn which is just down the street.

And here we are on the rooftop of the Peabody Hotel and in the lobby by the fountain. Actually, if we can afford it, we'll stay there the next time instead. It's a grand old 5-star hotel with southern charm just oozing out of every corner.

We brought back quite a haul of souveniers. I think The Comedian was actually a bit surprised at how much stuff I bought.  On our final morning, I stopped into the gift shop one last time just to pick up a keychain and ended up buying another $70 worth of stuff.  LOL.  I warned him before we left I was gonna shop till I dropped.

And the best part about the trip was that we know we travel well together. We spent 16 hours each way in a car together and not once did we fight. We laughed and talked and sang along to our favourite songs and just really enjoyed each other's company.

I gotta pat myself on the back, this time I done good pickin' me a hubby. :D

Mr. & Mrs.

Will Post, Stay Tuned

Dudes, I'm 4 days away from my wedding. And I'm seriously missing my blogging time. Obviously the hours in which I usually tell my tales have been eaten up with all the teeny tiny details that at last count, have added up to a bazillion and three. Those last three are giving me a headache.

At any rate, I've got a bunch of drafts waiting to be finished and posted. So come back in a while and check in.

Oh, I love my dress now, so all is good. Too bad it cost another $300 to get it the way it should have been made to begin with. Alas, that is the nature of the beast that is called a wedding.

Hugs and kisses and slobbers to you all who keep checking in. Next time I post, I'll be Mrs. Comedian!

P.S. When I did the spell check on this post, bazillion came up as a real word. Nice. :)

OMGIJ

Oh. My. God. It's. June!  Dudes, I'm getting married in 5 weeks!

I was at lunch with my friend Karen today and she said, ". . . next month after your wedding . . ."

And my brain was like, next month? My wedding isn't next month, it's in July.

And then I realized that next month IS July!

YEEEEEEEEAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOHHHHHHNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!

Here's a piece of advice from someone who is about to get married for the second time - ELOPE!  I should have eloped again.  But I would have been subjected to a tar and feathering from my BFFs if I had screwed them out of an open bar again.

Wish me luck with my fitting tomorrow. Hopefully I will hate my dress less.

Rapture

Well, it's 15 minutes into the supposed rapture and we're all still here.

The Comedian and I had a lovely day. We ran some errands, had a nice lunch and then did a quick scoot across the border to try and find me a replacement wedding dress.

We ended up going back to where we started and I bought a very nice dress from a local bridal shop.

I'm going to see my seamstress next week to see if my first custom made (read: very expensive) dress can be salvaged.  If not, I will wear the dress I picked up today.

I swear guys, I'm never getting married again.

Dress Disaster

Three words - I hate it.

8 weeks and 2 days until the big show and I've got nothing to wear.

Cue the apocalypse cuz I really don't want to live anymore.

Complicated

"It's complicated."

"What you want is complicated."

"Something like that is very complicated."

You'd think I was asking someone to shoot the entire three plus hours Oscar extravaganza.

I wish people could think outside the box when it comes to my reception. They keep asking me the same questions over and over, "When are you getting to the hall after your photos?", "When are the speeches happening?", "When are you being announced for your entrance?", "When are you doing the toast?".

WE'RE NOT DOING ANY OF THAT CRAP. GET WITH THE PROGRAM: ARRIVALS, DINNER, SHOW. THE END.

I fail to see why this is so complicated.

Desserts

In the last week I've been told:

• The jeweller lost our wedding band design and ring sizes
• The cake maker can't make the cake anymore
• The videographer can't shoot the wedding anymore
• The organist lost our music selections and sheet music

I've been waking up in the middle of the night having panic attacks. When I do sleep, I've been having nightmares about my dress being all wrong or not made at all.  I woke up crying this morning and have been in a terrible mood all day.

We went to see our priest this afternoon to finalize the wording of our vows and ring exchange. I told him about the troubles I've been having.

He said, "You know that stressed spelled backwards is desserts."

I would have a dessert, except for the cake maker can't make our cake anymore....

Blargh.

An Open Letter to the Oil Companies

Dear Oil Companies,

By gouging us at the pumps, your kid isn't ever going to get a good job or make any friends. And here's why.

When prices increase at the pumps, we have less disposable income. The only thing we can afford is to put gas in our car to drive to and from work.

When the only thing you can afford to do is work, you stop doing other stuff - like going to the movies, eating out, and taking vacations. We especially stop buying new things like clothes, electronics and vehicles. We all just make do with what we have.

When we stop buying stuff, stores stop ordering from their suppliers, and suppliers stop ordering from their manufacturers. Simple supply and demand. Demand is clearly taking a beating.

When the demand plummets, production slows down or stops.  When that happens, profits plummet and people start losing their jobs.

When people lose their jobs, they cut back on everything, including borrowing money to send their kids to post-secondary schools.

When people don't send their kids to continue on with their studies, new technologies aren't invented.

When new technologies aren't invented, no new jobs are created. This adds to the fact that a whole bunch of people are still out of work.

This means your kid won't have anywhere to go for work when you finish paying for their post-secondary education with the money you made by gouging us at the pumps.

They'll continue to live at home and not be social. They won't make any friends, nor will they meet their partners and raise families.  And even if they were to have a family, they wouldn't be able to afford the gas to drive their kids to see Grandma and Grandpa.

I'm all for free enterprise. And I'm all for profit. But seriously? Instead of a 5000% profit, let's try 4000% and see what happens.  I promise, you'll still be able to afford your cigars, whiskey and hookers. You may just have to cut out one hooker per day.

Sincerely,
Paprika

Marching Along

Hey kids!  Just checking in to let you all know I'm still alive. I've been ridiculously busy with work, more work, commuting and oh that whole wedding planning thang.

Nine and a half weeks until blast off.

I'm still waiting on my dress.

Okay, gotta go.

I miss you guys.

xoxo

He Did Good

I am sooooooo proud of The Comedian's performance at Yuk Yuk's last night. Although he didn't advance to the next round, he did really good!

And believe me, I'm not just saying that. I'm an extremely tough critic, which he can certainly attest to.  When he was trying out his material on me, I scrutinized every sentence and gave him some pretty critical feedback.  At one point I had my arms crossed and was shaking my head no at him.  He threw his hands up and yelled, "BUT I'M FUNNY!!!" and stormed out of the room.

Luckily, he still wants to marry me.

We'll get 'em next year!

Yukin' It Up

I'm sooooooooooo excited right now!  The Comedian was selected to compete in Yuk Yuk's Great Canadian Laugh Off!  The grand prize is $25,000!!!!  Imagine how many more people we could invite to the wedding if he wins?!

The first round is April 22 - 28, with the semi-finals happening April 28 & 30, and the finals being May 1st. The finals will be a taped special for the Comedy Network.

Wish him luck!  Or better yet, come on out and support him. As luck would have it, he drew the first night. It will be a Good Friday indeed!

Gleaner News

Hey kids, I was interviewed for The Gleaner! The author, Amy Ward, found a blog post about a Missed Connection ad I had posted on my blog last year and she was doing an article on that very topic.

She asked me if I would be willing to be the subject of her article and of course, I agreed.

A big thank you goes to Amy for the great interview and fabulous article. Here's the clipping:
Tunnel of love, lost

---------------------------------------------------------

Bathurst Station most popular site for missed connections

By: Amy Ward

Before the days of finding hook-ups by GPS-locating cell phone apps, geo-locating lovebirds had only missed connection postings to find one another. For shy types, a note to that person with a cute smile lets you act on an afterthought. In some locations, like cell-phone-signal-quashing subway tunnels, the missed connections are still the introvert's greatest tool when hunting booty.

Back in November, Craigslist released a study called 'Love on the Line' exploring which TTC stations are sites for the most Missed Connections postings. Over an eight-week period last summer and fall, they calculated the number of postings divided by ridership at each station to find the lustiest location on the TTC. The winner ... Bathurst! For the 28,000 passengers passing through the station each day, Bathurst's tubes could be rebranded Toronto's tunnel of love.

"Paprika," who, like many involved in the online dating community, wishes to maintain some anonymity, has been both the poster of a missed connection and the subject of one.

"I found them amusing in a sad sort of way," she said. "Kind of like a train wreck, you can't help but look even though it's just an awful mess."

A friend of hers came across a missed connection posting and recognized Paprika as the subject, based on an encounter she'd had while waiting for a film festival at the Bloor Cinema (506 Bloor St. W.). She responded to the posting, but the sparks weren't there.

"It was very flattering that someone felt strongly enough about me to post an ad on Craigslist," she said.

A few months later, she posted her own missed connection on Craigslist, after chatting with a man outside Bathurst station. She never received a response.

"I suppose it is the annex of the Annex," Paprika said. "I think that particular stretch of Bloor, between Bathurst and Spadina, has so much going on, it naturally fosters an environment where all sorts of different people cross paths."

Though neither of her missed connections worked out, shortly after posting her own, Paprika combed a friend's Facebook connections and ended up meeting her fiance. "I believe timing and attitude are everything," she said. "Looking back on the events that happened in my life prior to meeting him, and everything that happened in his life, I know that we both had to go through what we went through in order to really appreciate each other when we finally did connect."

Of course, it's hard to conjure a soulmate connection out of nothing. Maybe that's the allure of the missed connection postings. It's the delayed bravado after a moment that could have been but never was. Any romantic can see the allure of the missed connection. So for all you starving romantics, remember that a connection may happen whether you miss it or not.

I Love Irony

I popped into the Staples near my office this afternoon to pick up the envelopes for my wedding invitations.

It's right next door to the court house where I had filed for divorce three years ago.

:)

I Ain't Your Fool

I hate April Fools Day.

Hate. Hate. HATE IT.

I do not like to be tricked, nor do I like to trick people, especially my family and very close friends. I think it's ridiculous that there is a day when it's okay to mind-fuck your friends and family.

My least favourite April Fools Day was in 1986. My father was in a relationship with a horrible woman who moved herself and her daughter into our house. I was forced to share my room and all my stuff with her daughter and forced to call her Mom. I would defiantly call her You're-Not-My-Mom-Mine-Is-Dead.

That morning in 1986, as we were all scurrying around getting ready for school, she and my Dad gathered us into the dining room and sat us down at the table. FYI, that dining room table set belonged to my mother.

"Kids, your Dad and I have some fantastic news! I'm pregnant!!!"

My initial split second reaction was my stomach falling out of my body and into the depths of hell. But a moment later I realized she was totally lying. So I called her out.

"You had a hysterectomy. So you can't be pregnant."

Her eyes widened. Yeah bitch, you didn't count on the fact that for an 11 year old, not only did I know where babies came from, but I was a little genius who lived and breathed science and medicine.

"No! I'm pregnant! It's a miracle!"

"NO YOU'RE NOT! YOU'RE LYING!!! WHY ARE YOU LYING TO US ABOUT SOMETHING LIKE THAT?!"

I ran crying out of the room. My father thought it was all fucking hilarious.

For the life of me, I still can't figure out why my Dad would ever allow her to try to pull something like that. My Dad has always had a twisted sense of humour, which usually was right in line with what I consider funny. So I suppose I could forgive him for that misstep. (The jury's still out on that by the way.)

My mother had been dead for exactly 2 years, 1 month and 12 days. Didn't either of them stop to think for one second that maybe it was just a bit too soon and completely inappropriate?

IT WAS NOT FUNNY, ASSHOLES.

The only way a trick can work is if the person trusts you. That's why April Fools is so fucked up. You're essentially abusing someone's trust in order to get a cheap laugh.

Think twice today my friends. A seemingly harmless prank could have a negative impact that lasts a lifetime.

May The Farce Be With Him

I just got word that Roger Abbott passed away last night from a 14 year battle with leukemia. I'm in absolute shock. He had hidden his illness from everyone except his very closest friend Don Ferguson.

Roger & Don were part of the original troupe that created The Royal Canadian Air Farce in 1973, first airing as a radio program. It went to television in 1993 where Roger & Don continued as performers and also served as executive producers.

I was privileged to have worked on the show for its last 5 seasons, 2004 - 2008. I have many memories of Roger during my time on the show. The best thing about him was he took the time to know all of the production staff on a first name basis. I was actually shocked the first time he said, "Hello Paprika!" as I was scurrying past him down a hall to the studio. I stopped in my tracks and did a double take. I couldn't believe he knew my name, a lowly production assistant.

In 2005, I had interviewed for the position of Audience Coordinator with both Roger and Don. While I didn't get the job, I had left such a great impression on them that they decided to send me out to dinner to one of my favourite restaurants in Toronto. They gave me a $200 gift card to Alley Catz. It was absolutely unexpected and extremely flattering. Who can ever say they got a consolation prize for not getting a job?

When I lost my day job in 2009, I had phoned up the Air Farce offices to see if there was anything open. There wasn't, but Roger invited me to use the offices for resume printing, photocopying and faxing in my job search. He also let me do some of the odd administrative jobs that no one else had the time or inclination to do so that I could keep busy and not be going out of my mind at home. His kindness and generosity during that tough time in my life was a huge help to me both professionally and personally.

I have no words to describe how heart broken I am over the loss of Roger. Heaven certainly has another angel in its stables.

Thank you Roger.

Luck o' the Irish

My bus almost got creamed by a truck on the way in to work today. The truck was trying to avoid some sunglasses-wearing-coffee-sipping-BITCH who decided to randomly walk into oncoming traffic.

I gotta hand it to my bus driver, he stayed completely calm, cool and collected while the rest of us shrieked like piggies being sent to slaughter.

It's no wonder I had a pint of Guinness at lunch today.

Happy St. Paddy's y'all!

My Birthday Again

As I was arriving to work yesterday, one of my managers happened to be coming in at the same time.

"Hey, it's a special day for you today!"

I stopped for a moment. What the heck was so special about March 8th?

"Oh, you mean International Women's Day!"

"No...."

"Fat Tuesday?"

"No....it's the 8th...."

I still had no freaking clue what he was talking about.

"It's your birthday!"

Hahahahahaaaaaaa. OMG!!! I informed him my birthday was last month. On February 8th.

He turned a bright shade of red. And being the smart ass I am I then asked, "Did you get me a present?"

Turns out, he did. He came back to my desk a few minutes later with a beautiful gift bag and card.

The card was signed by him, the other manager and my big boss. "Happy (belated) Birthday Paprika! T, J & C" The "belated" had been added in with a different coloured pen.

And my gift was a lovely box of chocolates from Williams Chocolate in Whitby. He had told me about this place a couple months ago and I had jokingly asked him to get me some.

Wow. I was touched. Although he got the month wrong, he was thoughtful enough to get me a gift, and coordinate getting my other bosses to sign the card.

I thanked him profusely and told him how much it meant to me. He kept apologizing for getting the month wrong. I told him there's always next year. :)

I devoured half the box and then went around and shared with the rest of the people in my department. I told them the story and they thought the same thing - absolutely adorable and funny.

I took the rest of the box home for The Comedian. We had pancakes for dinner in honour of Fat Tuesday and then discussed what we should give up for Lent. We decided to give up candy.

And we fell asleep before we could polish off my birthday candy.

I hope they are still good come Easter!

Release Me Part II

We saw The Monsignor this afternoon to finalize the details of the ceremony. He gave us a book called "Celebrating Our Love - Liturgical Resources for Preparing and Celebrating Marriage", which has a variety of selections of prayers, scripture readings, psalms and acclamations. It's like a choose-your-own adventure book. He told us to take it home, make our selections and then email him with our choices.

We chatted for a bit when he asked, "Have I given you a copy of this?" as he pulled out a single sheet of paper from the file folder on his desk. I shook my head no.

He handed me a copy and I just put it to the side as we continued our chat.

We talked mostly about the ceremony and how we can make it personal to us by the selection of readings and the music. And of course The Comedian used this opportunity to chat with The Monsignor cousin to cousin. So over all it was quite a pleasant meeting.

The last bit of business was making sure we apply for our marriage license a month or so before the ceremony and getting a copy of The Comedian's baptismal certificate to be added to our record.

When we got home, I pulled out the page The Monsignor had given me.

I laughed soooooooo hard reading this! I know this is all very serious business in the Church, but come on! I "violated" canonical form?! My "attempted" marriage?! Hahahahahahahaaaaa!!

I hope God forgives me for thinking this letter is totally hilarious. But if this is what it takes for me to marry The Comedian, so be it.

Magic

I had my second birthday party yesterday. And its success was a direct result of a gift I got from the first birthday party I had last Saturday.

Having a birthday that fell on a Tuesday gave me full license to have two parties this year. The first one was a family thing in the afternoon. We had drinks and snacks and cake and presents! I got a gift certificate to Amazon.com from my brother and his fiancee, Season 1 Vol 2 of Glee from my soon-to-be-mother-in-law, and a lovely sweater from my soon-to-be-sister-in-law. But by far, the best present I received was from my darling true love, The Comedian. He got me The Magic Bullet.

Yes folks, THE MAGIC BULLET!!!!

I'm sure some of you are scratching your heads wondering why I would love a kitchen appliance more than my Glee DVDs.

Well, the gifting of the Magic Bullet was The Comedian's way of righting a wrong my ex-husband had committed back in 2006.

A little back story if you will....

I'm insanely addicted to infomercials. My absolute favourite is the one for The Magic Bullet. Back when I was still with that douche bag I called a first husband, I would distract myself from the misery of my marriage by watching The Magic Bullet infomercial at all hours of the day and night. Eventually, everytime we would be out shopping, I would bring up how awesome it would be if I had a Magic Bullet.

One weekend we were at the Pickering Flea Market. We walked up and down every aisle in the place. He was busy spending my money on stuff he liked, as per usual. We turned a corner when lo and behold, there was a display with The Magic Bullet in all its glory.

I ran up to it and practically hugged it. I wept tears of joy, I was so excited to finally see one in the flesh. I noticed the price tag - $50! HALF THE PRICE OF BUYING IT ON TV!!

I told my ex I wanted it. I WANTED IT AND I WANTED IT RIGHT THEN AND THERE!!

And still to this day, I can't figure out how he talked me out of it. He managed to talk me out of spending MY money (for those of you new to this blog, he was jobless for most of our marriage) on something that I DREAMED about. He told me he would come back and get it for me at a later date.

FINE.

So a later date rolls around and he comes home with a big box. I got super excited because I knew what was in the box!! I dropped to my knees on the living room floor and tore into that box and found...

The Blender 2000.

W.T.F?! The Blender 2000? A knock off of my majestic Magic Bullet.

"It's not The Magic Bullet!" I wailed.

"It's the same thing! It has all the same parts and it was ten dollars cheaper!"

"BUT IT'S NOT THE MAGIC BULLET!" I protested.

"It does exactly the same thing. Come on, let's try it out."

I took it into the kitchen, read the manual from start to finish, set it all up as per the instructions, and then attempted to make the thing I've been dreaming about - creamy smooth nacho cheese.

On the infomercial, they throw a block of cheese into The Magic Bullet, turn it on and it blends that block down into a creamy dreamy cup of velvet love. Then they pop it into the microwave for a few seconds to heat it up, pour it on to the nacho chips and voila! The perfect party snack.

So I took my block of old cheddar, threw it into the Blender 2000 and started it up.

Literally three seconds into it the motor burned out and caught fire!

"THIS IS NOT THE SAME FUCKING THING! GO TOMORROW AND GET MY MONEY BACK AND THEN GO BUY ME THE MAGIC BULLET!!!!!!!!!"

He tried to protest but I threw a huge tantrum and made him understand that in no uncertain terms, he was to take that piece of shit back to the asshole who sold it to him and get every last penny back.

So he went the next day and got the money back, and then came home with a bunch of Star Wars toys instead.

So my dreams of The Magic Bullet were totally obliterated and I never spoke of it to him again.

....End of back story.

Fast forward to a typical Sunday morning sometime between August and two weeks ago. The Comedian and I are in bed, all snuggled up together talking. We do a lot of talking on Sunday mornings, so at some point along the way, I must have told him about my longings for a real Magic Bullet.

So being the absolutely amazing man that he is, he tucked that story into his brain and when he was out shopping for my birthday gifts, he bought me my personal Holy Grail - the honest to goodness, 100% real, often imitated but never duplicated, MAGIC BULLET!!!

Here's the reaction shot of when I opened it. See? I'm TOTALLY EXCITED!

Anyway, my party yesterday would mark a very important time for me. It was my first birthday with The Comedian, the first one in my new house, and the first birthday in a very long time where my BFFs would be able to attend. I wanted to do something super special. I decided to make the appetizers for my guests.

For those of you who know me in real life, you KNOW how big a deal this is. And for those of you who don't know me, let me summarize - I don't know how to cook, and I've never had the inclination to cook, EVER.

The Magic Bullet has more magic powers than anyone could have ever anticipated.

I made hummus dip served with warm pita bread and two dozen stuffed mushrooms. I was going to make garlic bread but I got nervous about how much I could handle and I just bought that premade instead.

And let me just say, all my appetizers were gobbled up mere moments after I put them out. Blondo was so incredibly proud of me, she couldn't stop smiling and declaring how GOOD everything tasted.

I was extremely proud of myself. Making those appetizers was definitely a turning point, not only in the development of my party hosting skills, but in my life.

And here is the proof!


I still can't find the right words to thank The Comedian for making my birthday absolutely magical.

I'm a very, very lucky girl. :D

Super Fun Birthday Times

My birthday yesterday was totally awesome. From morning till night, it was super duper wicked AWESOME!

First, the sun was shining brightly! It's been weeks and weeks of cold and overcast. But yesterday morning, there shone a light so bright!

My commute into work was great. The traffic wasn't as ridiculous as usual so I actually got to work on time.

I was taken out to lunch by a good friend, and it was super delicious! It was a design-your-own thai noodle house that I've never been to.

After lunch, I realized I had to renew both my driver's license, and the sticker for my plates. I headed off to a Service Ontario location close to my office.

By my approximation, the entire city of Toronto was waiting to apply/renew/request something. I sent a text to my coworker to let her know that it may take me a bit longer to get back to the office. I walked up to reception, announced I was there to renew my license, and they gave me a number A927.

I watched the numbers coming up on the display boards and it seems as though they were running series A, B, C, D, F, R, S, & T. Gaaaaaaah. I settled in for what could become an ordeal lasting the entire afternoon.

I decided I should comb my hair and put on some lip gloss in preparation for my new driver's license picture. No sooner had I finished putting my brush away, my number suddenly started blinking on the display board!

WOOOOOOOOT!!!!

I marched up to counter #6, handed the clerk my old license, paid my $75, got my picture snapped and was handed my temporary paper license until my new one comes in.

EIGHT MINUTES FLAT!

I was so happy I stopped in at Tim Hortons to get myself a celebratory steeped tea. I took the subway back to the office and slipped back to my desk before anyone really noticed I had been gone.

About an hour later, I was doing a quick Facebook check and in my feed was an update from the Glee fan page. The cast was going on another North American tour this summer. But this time around, they are making a stop in TORONTO!!!! OH EHM GEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!! And tickets would be on sale next week! DOUBLE OH EHM GEEEEEE!!!!!!!!!

I think I actually let out an audible squeal. :D

The rest of the afternoon flew by and before I knew it, I was on the bus headed home. The Comedian was waiting for me at the bus station. He whisked me away to a restaurant for my birthday dinner.

He hadn't revealed our final location as he wanted it to be a surprise.

We pulled into the parking lot of our local Jack Astors, home to a super snazzy Elvis booth which he had reserved for us! YAY!!!!

We ordered these huge fruity yummy drinks, had appetizers, good entrees, and we talked and laughed and laughed some more. The waiters came out with cake for me at the end of our meal and made me stand up and sing "I'm a Little Tea Pot" at the top of my lungs. LOVED IT!!!

On the way home I phoned my Dad to say hi and thank him for giving me half my genetic make up. :)

Once we got home, we watched the new episode of Glee, after which I happily drifted off to sleep.

This was definitely one of the best birthdays ever.

Thirty-six is off to a fabulous start!

Next Category

My birthday is next week. WOOT!

I remember moments last year in the week leading up to my birthday that sucked, that were awesome, and that were totally awesome.

I also remember getting the best piece of advice on turning 35. I have to admit, I was a bit bummed that night as for me, turning 35 represented crossing past the point of no return with regards to getting married and having babies.

And now I'm just a few days away from turning 36. Again, I am astonished at what a difference a year makes.

The only thing that has sucked was having to chose the next category of age range when signing up for WagJag today. I'm in the 36 - 40 category now. So long 31 - 35! You were a blast.

But other than that, I am still living it and loving it!

Truth Be Told

Last week was absolutely brutal. I was damn near taken out by a particularly nasty bout with bronchitis.

After my last post, I ended up with a raging fever of 103F. Delirium got the better of me and I blacked out. But not before yelling my fool head off at The Comedian. Apparently I was ranting that he didn't love me. And I was bawling and yelling that I was going to die from drowning in my own phlegm.

Luckily, the wedding is still on. :)

During one of my sick days at home, I managed to pull it together enough to turn on the computer and finally put in the order for my wedding dress.

However, before I clicked send, I had to make a confession to The Comedian.

I had to tell him about this blog.

(And I figured I'd better tell him before I dropped $750 on my dress, just in case he changed his mind and we wouldn't be walking down the aisle after all.)

I took him into the bedroom and sat him down on the bed. For some reason, talking about serious stuff has always come easier when I'm sitting on my bed.

I tried to prepare myself for a big fat freak out on his part. I hmm'd and haaww'd and got all sorts of uncomfortable before I splattered it out.

I explained to him that I started blogging around 2003, but didn't really pick up any sort of steam until I started chronicling my divorce in 2007. That blog morphed into my dating blog, which then morphed into this one.

"Do you write about me?"

I told him he's known as The Comedian. And that a lot of people were extremely thrilled when we became engaged.

He grinned and gave me a kiss.

Then I dropped the little bomb about how explict some of my posts were prior to meeting him. (Remember Funny Guy?)

His grin drooped a little.

"I don't want to read about you being with other men."

Deal.

I asked him if he wanted the link. He just shrugged. I suppose if and when the time comes, he'll ask me for it.

I kissed his sweet face and then happliy skipped back to the computer and clicked send on my dress order.

Bed Bugs

The Comedian and I were both bed ridden yesterday. I've got bronchitis and he's got the flu.

My poor fiance was running a fever of 101F. He had the chills so bad his entire body was shaking uncontrollably.

Last night was a fitful one of coughing from both of us.

Around 3am he rolled over and croaked, "How are you feeling baby?"

I moaned, "Not the greatest."

We kissed, rolled over, and continued our cough fest well into the morning.

In spite of how sick he is, he still dragged himself out of bed to drive me to the bus station this morning.

I have to make sure to include that only one of us can be sick at a time during the "in sickness and in health" part of our wedding vows.

*cough*

Land of Thai

Mrs. Magnolia is happily frolicking with elephants and climbing mountains. To follow her adventures, here's a link to her blog: http://www.2sides1story.net

After the morning I've had, I really wish I was on the other side of the world.

First Meltdown

It was a matter of when, not if, I would have a big fat freak out in my new home.

Since our first weekend together, we vowed we would always have Lazy Sunday (unless of course, there is some family function we have to attend). Lazy Sunday consists of exactly that, laziness. We get up late, stay in our PJs for as long as humanly possible, and relax until we are so stress free we could float away on a cloud.

So this morning was no different than any of the other 25 Sundays we've had together. It was wonderful and relaxing and lovely and warm and fuzzy.

We finally decided to get up and have breakfast around noon. Again, nothing unusual. We were debating between pancakes and omelettes. I opened the fridge to see what was there. I rooted around and found a tupperware container with three pizza slices from a Rock Band party we had last weekend with my brother and sister-in-law.

Seeing as there were only three eggs left, I decided to let him have the eggs and I would have the pizza. Just so you all know, I love pizza in one of three ways:

1. Piping hot, fresh from the delivery place.
2. The next morning after I've left it on the counter over night.
3. Reheated in the oven a few days later.

I do NOT like pizza that has been microwaved. It gets too smooshy for my liking and kinda makes me wanna barf in my own mouth.

So I asked The Comedian if he could help me turn on the oven to reheat my pizza. I still do not know how to work his oven.

"Why are you going to heat up the oven for three little pieces of pizza?"

"Because I want to heat them up."

"Just use the microwave."

"I don't like it in the microwave."

"You can't use that much electricity for three tiny pieces of pizza."

And that was it. I ran into the bedroom, threw myself on the bed and started to bawl my eyes out.

The Comedian followed a few minutes later when he realized what was happening. He was very shocked to see me in such a state.

"Why are you crying?"

The floodgates open and I started to wail about not being allowed to use the oven when I want, not feeling like I'm in my own space, not knowing how to work any of the appliances, not being allowed to keep the heat turned up, not knowing the satellite channels, not having my TiVo hooked up to record my shows, not knowing how to drive from the house to my brother's place in Welland, not having a vet for my cat, not having a nail salon to get a pedicure and not having a life now that I'm having to chase down a bus to get home at night.

Yeah. I guess I've been feeling all these things, but it wasn't until the pizza that I realized how I was feeling.

The Comedian did his best to calm me down. I cried and sobbed and moaned until the tears dried up.

We talked and he understood why I was upset. But he still didn't understand why I had to heat up my pizza in a big oven. He suggested making cupcakes along side reheating the pizza. I think that was a good solution for heating up the oven.

He also suggested we start hanging up some of my framed pictures around the house and that we would dig out the manual for the TiVo and hook it up so I don't miss any more of my soaps.

He's such a good man. I am grateful that I can feel what I'm feeling, and he's right there to help me through it.

Costume Fitting

Today would have been my 5th wedding anniversary. In honour of the occasion, I tried on my wedding dress, just to see if it still fits.

To my absolute delight, it still fits perfectly - except in the chest. I think my boobs are probably at least a full cup size larger. At this rate, they'll probably be at my knees by 2016.

The Comedian helped me with the zipper and I managed to mash my boobs into it.

"You look gorgeous!"

Awwww. :)

I love that he isn't at all freaked out by the fact that I was trying on my former wedding dress. He sees it the same way I do - a really pretty dress that I happen to have worn when pledging my life long commitment to another man.

Ha! Yet another reason why The Comedian is totally awesome.

After doing a few twirls, I pulled it off and put it back into its bag.

It's such a great dress. Too bad I actually can't wear it anymore. I've put it downstairs in the basement with the rest of my costumes. We've got a closet dedicated to all my Halloween costumes. I've dubbed it "The Costume Shoppe". Yes, shoppe - like an old tyme shoppe.

So if anyone ever needs a really great floor-length red satin dress, I've got one you can totally wear. As long as your boobs are as big as mine were in 2006.

What A Difference A Year Makes

I was just reading some of my posts from January 2010 and I can't believe how different things are.

I know things change, but usually it's so gradual you hardly notice.

But holy crappo, a mere 12 months ago my life was completely d.i.f.f.e.r.e.n.t. Mr. David anyone? Wow.

The one thing that hasn't changed, which I am very happy to report, is that I'm still a Size 10. And those brown cords are going strong! I wore them yesterday in fact. :)

One thing that is changing that I'm about ready to bawl my eyes out over is that Mrs. Magnolia and her hubby are taking off for Thailand tonight. For SIX MONTHS. I'm super happy they have this amazing opportunity, but I'm super upset because she and I talk like 18 times a day.

There is a slight chance they may stay there for good. However, I'm hoping they can come back at least for my wedding. She's slated to do my make-up after all.

Our motto last year was "Try Again in 2010". And amazingly, I got everything I wanted. Except the damn flat screen TV. :D

This year my motto is most definitely, "2011 Is Heaven".

For the first time in a long time, I'm excited for what the next 12 months shall bring.

Happy New Year!