Monday, November 30, 2009

Amazing Race 15 Ep. 10

Shit.
I hate that the Globetrotters are out and those two man-children are still in the race.
Honking. Assholes.
I think one of the things that bothers me about those two, particularly Dan, is that they don't own their behaviour; predicting that the Globetrotters would have backstabbed them, then doing exactly that, is being a tool. Can you imagine the tantrum if Big Easy had given him the first letter, then left? I can't imagine these guys behave any better in real life.
Besides, they are not even very good villans; Boston Rob would have told Big Easy he had all the wrong letters and then pretended to cry.

I feel for Big Easy, a combination of flying solo, Killer Fatigue. a late night and debilitating frustration stopped him cold. Had he had Flight Time giving him some encouragement, he might have pulled it out. Because really? how many combinations were there?? It was only 5 letters and one vowel....was it really that hard?? Besides, I'd have flown through that form, no way were they checking to see if you put down the right answers. But I do like that he didn't bitch about Dan or whine about the penalty, he (and Flight Time) just sucked it up.

I love Brian. I love him. He took that shot of absinthe without flinching, and didn't whine one little bit. NOT ONE BIT! DID YOU HEAR THAT, ERICA???

I felt very sorry for the poor guy who had to wait all night for Erica and Brian to deliver that beer. He seemed to be very much the worse for wear, like maybe he had gotten kicked out after the bar closed and slept on the sidewalk.

If there had been a drinking game where you had to take a shot whenever one of the brothers said "shut up!", I don't think I'd be able to type this even today.

Thing 1 and I would have done that cold room no problem. We're Canadian, that's an early summer's day at the beach for us.

I had to love Brian and Erica's expressions when they found out they were team number 3. That was awesome. I wish Megan and Cheyne were as enthusiastic.
But man, that Megan is one tough cookie. Tougher than Cheyne, I think.

I'll be happy with anyone but the brothers winning.

Until next week!

Friday, November 27, 2009

Little Things for Little Minds, Part 2

A few days ago, Thing 2's grade 7 class got a visit from the local police to talk to them about the evils of graffiti.
The police told them about the expenses incurred by the victims of graffiti, the eyesore it creates and the general no-goodniks who perpetuate it. However, for some reason, the officer who came to talk gave them examples of graffiti; hilarious examples, in fact. (One was a stop sign with "Don't" above and "Believing" below.) Rather than discouraging the little darlings, I think he just gave them ideas.
I'm not a proponent of graffiti, having been the recipient at the salon too many times to count. Spray painting other people's property with your name or profanities or lewd drawings seems to be about the worst waste of time and energy I can think of, and pitifully childishly attention-seeking, to boot.
But when I see a bit of creativity that makes me laugh out loud? Well, I kind of like that.
I saw this on the way home from dropping Thing 1 off at her high school, and it made my day:

The only problem is, I have this song stuck in my head now. (This is for my dad, who has NO idea what the hell this has to do with that graffiti: the relevant bit is at 1:55.)

Wednesday, November 25, 2009

Fire Away

I got shot today. The flu shot, that is.

Normally, the girls and I get a flu shot every year. The Mister never bothers, largely because he is a man and somehow thinks that positive thinking and testosterone will keep him immune. ("Why would I get a shot, I never get the flu", he says, to which I retort, "you don't get the flu because everyone else gets the flu shot. You are relying on other people's immunity to keep you from getting sick, and frankly, I can't trust other people to put the grocery carts back in the little shed thing correctly, but perhaps you have more faith in your fellow man than I".)

But H1N1 is a nasty virus, and even the Mister decided not to chance it this year. At this clinic, they were giving both the seasonal one and the H1N1, which pleased Thing 2 not at all. She thought it was monumentally unfair that she should have to endure TWO shots at once, like avoiding one virus was all that could be reasonably expected of her. But as the person who would have to do the laundry should she get a virus and puke all over her bed, I insisted.

She scowled and gave me the stink eye for the half hour we waited in line, and no amount of reassurance or sympathy from her sister or great-aunt we brought with us was going to alleviate her grim forbearance.

The Mister took Thing 1 with him to one table, while I took Thing 2, and she sat down with all the enthusiasm Toby displays at the vet's., except she did not meow loud enough to startle small children. I tried to distract her by asking what the worst thing she'd ever eaten was, and who she thought was the had the biggest feet of anyone she knew or whether or not she thought Toby knew what he looked like. And then I promised her a trip to Disney World if she got the shots. (The nurse was amused up to this point, but she looked absolutely astounded at that last one. Then I told her we had already booked the trip a month ago.)
And then it was all over.

Everyone has a two tender arms this evening, and I'm sure there will be a need for ice and Tylenol later. But there will be no flu for the Loudshoes this year, and for that I am grateful.
I won't tell her we will have to do it all again next year.

Monday, November 23, 2009

Amazing Race 15 Ep. 10

I officially hate those brothers. Man, did they get annoying this episode. It's like Dan only had settings for "Whine" and "Bitch" and "Douchebag" the entire night. And Sam wasn't much better.
I can forgive them for stealing the cab; it's not a terribly nice thing to do, but it is a legitimate move in the race. However, I find it really rather pathetic that they didn't take responsibility for it and own it. Not looking Brian and Erica in the eye is really kind of assy. I'll bet the Gaybros didn't expect it to be a non-elimination leg....wouldn't you have wanted to be fly on the wall when Brian and Erica walked in the doorat the EatSleepMingle House?
Also? the Universe takes a very dim view of Taxi Shenanigans, as we have seen from past seasons. Do not piss off the Taxi Fairies, they WILL bite you in your well-deserved bum.

What the hell does Dan WANT???? God, he never shuts up, does he? From "stop narrating everything" to "paddle faster/stop paddling!" he was working my last nerve.

That Detour looked brutal. Thing 1 and I have no upper-body strength whatsoever; we'd still be hanging off those things. But I'm glad for Mika's sake she wasn't up there...between the water and the heights, her head would have exploded for sure.

Since the teams left between midnight and 12:30, and they spent most of the night in the airport and then were on two planes, I'm figuring that Killer Fatigue had a LOT to do with the behaviour this episode. Nobody came off as particularly charming. Except Megan. She seemed to handle herself better than anyone this time around. I thought she was fairly smart to want to work with the Globetrotters; clearly, there were other teams behind them, so coming in last wasn't a huge possibility, and she was right when she said they were spurred on by getting revenge. Also, is there a U-Turn or a Yield this season? Because if I were the team that has won 5 First Place finished out of 10, I'd want to make sure nobody hated me.

Cheyne is an ass, by the way....did you see the way he snatched that pen and paper out of that woman's hand???

Favorite Line of the Night: Sam: "Do they speak Spanish there?", Dan (in a lecturing, big brother voice) "No, Prague is a country." What was that supposed to mean, anyway?
And Brian and Erica: Him: " Who stays composed under pressure?'... my BABY!" Erica: "I can???"

I was hoping Cheyne was going to try to haul down a piano from the top floor of that opera house. Seriously, who thinks a full-grown guitar is a minature mandoline? I had a friend who had a sweet, mentally-challenged dog that would fetch everything but the one thing you threw for him. You threw a stick, dog came back with a rock. Cheyne reminded me of that dog.

How much do I love that singer??? We must have replayed "HAHAHAHAHA! NNNNO!" about twelve times....never gets old! Erica must have been searching for a l-o-o-o-o-ong time for him to have stopped for lunch and to sit a spell. And just to take a quick detour to stop at the corner of "Geeky Stuff Mrs. Loudshoes Knows Avenue" and "Who Cares? Boulevard", that guy singing was NOT the character of Don Giovanni. The part of Don Giovanni is written for a baritone, and that guy was a tenor. (I used to work in a classical record store a long time ago, long enough for it to have been records and not CDs, and that is the sort of thing I knew back then and it hangs around clutterng up my brain now. No wonder I forget important stuff.)

I love the way Phil says "spa".

Tuesday, November 17, 2009

Things I Forget All the Time

I just finished a very good book about a woman who is diagnosed with "early on-set Alzhiemer's", (Still Alice, I highly recommend it). Since reading it I find myself worried about every little failure in my memory, and then I remember that I've always forgotten stuff all the time...I keep telling my kids "my head is like a toilet; you can only put so much shit in it at once".
My memory is definitely selective; I can remember ridiculous things, like people's maiden names or where we've seen that actor before, but completely forget to pick up the drycleaning, or where I put the chicken after I came home from grocery shopping. (Hint: follow the smell in a couple of days.) When I regularly found myself looking after other people's children, I lived in fear of forgetting to pick them up from something. (Fortunately, the one time that DID happen, I managed to high-tail it right smart back to the school yard before they freaked out, but not before they noticed I was gone. It took a while before they trusted me again.)

Some things I forget with a tedious regularity are...

  • The Alphabet. When I put things in alphabetical order, I have to mentally run through it Every. Single. Time....."Q, R, S, T !"
  • The Reusable Shopping Bags. Sure, they seem like a good idea, (although, I still have to buy plastic kitchen bags, so exactly HOW are they helping the environment? Does the environment care whether or not I paid for the plastic I'm throwing out or if I got it free with my groceries?) but I forget to put them in the car at all, let alone bring them into the grocery store with me.
  • The Salon's Phone Number. I have worked at that salon for twenty-seven freaking years, and occasionally, my brain completely crashes, and I have to really think about the phone number that has been the exact same number since October of 1982.
  • Stuff in the Oven. I regularly put muffin tins or cookie sheets in the oven temporarily, instead of taking them downstairs to the cabinet where I usually keep them. I habitually forget that I have done so, and preheat the oven to bake something, only to find myself with 4 leppin' hot pans and no where to put them. I had to be forcibly stopped from putting anything plastic anywhere near the stove for the very same reason.
  • Returning Movies. I don't bother even renting movies anymore, because I will forget to return them, until Blockbuster threatens me with a horrendous "restocking" bill, and I probably didn't even get around to watching the movie.
  • Horizontal/Vertical. I have to think twice when pressed to use one term or another.... "Horizon=Horizontal".
  • Some Names. We have a couple of clients at the shop in the Sherry/Cheryl/Sharon vein, and they confound me every single time. I have to make sure I look at my day-sheet and repeat the name several times before I can trust myself to speak. It does not help that their last names are McLean/McLeod/McLaird, I couldn't even BEGIN to team those up.

Monday, November 16, 2009

Amazing Race 15 Ep. 9

Poor Matt and Gary, they really didn't have the mojo that day, did they? Sorry to see them go, I loved them. I hope they have fun decoy-racing the rest of the race. (The last couple of eliminated teams go along and do the race with the teams still in it, so that if anyone sees them out and about, they can't tell anyone who's in the finale. That sounds like all kinds of fun to me.)

I used to like the Gay Brothers, but now I'm tired of them. They seem to think that the Globetrotters should just let them win this. Entitled Whineycakes bugs my ass big time. And by the way, snotting about how the Globetrotters are following you is bullshit...they are going to the same place as you, as is everyone else. That's on "following", that's "racing", do you see how that works? Besides, I can't figure out why the Bros are so fixated on the Globetrotters to win the race, when it appears to me that Megan and Cheyne are by far the stiffer competition.

I sure hope we had the sense to pick Thing 1 to do that Roadblock, because she knew right away to hold the parchment over the candle to get the clue. I'd have been coloring away like a fool.

I can't stand it one more minute: a "candelabrum" is consists of one candlestick, a "candelabra" is plural. And it is NOT a "candle-a-bra", Matt.

I want a Saunabuss! That would kick ass here in Canada...I'm serious, we could drive from Windsor to Quebec City!
Did Gary shut up at all during that event? Because the editing seemed to make him ramble like an idiot for the entire time, and he was the only one talking. (Matt was VERY much "eyes to the front" while sitting next to that Hot Estonian Girl.) Thing 1 speculated that perhaps it was like an elevator, where you are supposed to pretend that no one else is there. I want to know the entire "Minnesota Sauna Song" for future reference.

I absolutely love when Phil tell the winning team they have won some random, unexpected prize, like a sauna, and the team is all "Yay! We WON! What, wait a minute....we won what??? Not a trip? What the hell are we going to do with that?" Apparently Cheyne and Megan live in
southern California, which is not exactly sauna territory, and what if they live in an apartment? I loved the look on her face when she realized they won a sauna.

Okay, what was with the blurring? The blurring of the Gay Brother's junk? What, what were we not supposed to see??? I found the blurring way more distracting than any peeking or floppage that might have occured. Why didn't they weare their "Baywatch" trunks?

I liked the bog-shoes. I maybe could use a pair of those myself.

That macho-man foot race at the end was for second and third places, not first. They all knew that Megan and Cheyne had left way before them, so it was just a pissing contest for all four of them. God. More proof, in my opinion, that testosterone should be a controlled substance.

Thursday, November 12, 2009

What Goes Around....

Yesterday morning it was way busy at Starbucks, for some reason the place was packed, the line up was almost out the door and all the tables were full. I stopped in for my morning coffee, and expected that it might take a while, given the crowd. The three, female university students a couple of people ahead of me took afront to this, loudly complaining about the length of time it was taking for the line to move.

When they got up to the counter, none of them bothered to take the cell phones out of their ears to rattle off their orders, (one of my very pettest of peeves) and because of the ambient noise, the music and the cashiers inability to distinguish which remarks were addressed to her and which to the phones or the companions, she had a little trouble getting their orders right. By the time the last one reeled off her "ventinowhipdoublefoamextrahotsoyskinnyvanillalatte", the cashier was a bit flummoxed. She repeated what she thought she heard, and the girl gave a big sigh, rolled her eyes, having been inconvenienced beyond all reason, and babbled her order again. The poor cashier politely said that she couldn't hear her very well, and one of the other ones snotted "what is wrong with you??", and then repeated the order like she was talking to a two-year old and flounced off.

The cashier, to her credit, gave the order to the barista, without adding "and a whole lot of spit!", and went on to the next customer.
While the barista made the drinks, the three young women continued to complain and bitch, "we are NEVER coming to this Starbucks ever again", in that sing-songy way that is fashionable among some young women nowadays. (Which begs the question, why do so many young women and gay men affect the same sort of "accent"? What is with that?)

The barista gave them their drinks and cheerily wished them a good day, and they swarmed the cream and sugar station to get their lids, wherein the one who made such a fuss promptly knocked over her ventinowhipdoublefoamextrahotsoyskinnyvanillalatte all over the floor.

Well played, Universe, well played.

Tuesday, November 10, 2009

Get Me To the Church

I have two "Wendy" friends, Big Liver Girl and the Reverend Wendy. The Reverend Wendy really is an ordained Anglican minister, and is about as much fun as I think the Anglican church will allow. (Big Liver Girl Wendy is a licenced physiotherapist, so I pretty much have my physical and spiritual needs covered when it comes to my Wendys.) I'm Catholic, and Big Liver Girl is United, so and Anglican service was all new to us.

Big Liver Girl decided that it was time we went to see the Reverend Wendy preach, so we roused ourselves out of the house last Sunday, and drove up the road a bit to see her. She had no idea we were coming, so you should have seen her eyes sproing out of her head when she found us sitting in her church. (I should be so lucky as to get that sort of welcome everywhere.)

The Reverend Wendy's church is a lovely little jewel of a church; a hundred-and something- year-old stone and pine affair in the country, that smells exactly like a church should. It is smallish, with lots of stained glass windows, and it looks pretty much like I expect it looked when it was built.

It was the Rememberance Day ceremony, so we sang "God Save the Queen" and "Oh, Canada", and you could tell people really meant it. Actually, all the hymns were good...church is the only place I'm allowed to sing with the gusto I enjoy, and it pleases me mightily when I have good material.

It has come to my attention in the past that Big Liver Girl and I should NEVER, EVER find ourselves in situations where A) solemnity is important, and B) we should be quiet. We are masters of neither. I don't think we made it past the first reading before she whispered something in my ear that had me weeping with laughter and had the pew rattling off the floor. Seriously, she's a menace.

There was a teenage couple ahead of us that had us utterly enthralled. They must have started dating the night before, because he couldn't keep his hands off her, and she was very happy to let him. Big Liver Girl wondered aloud if they thought, perhaps, they were at a drive-in, rather than church on a Sunday morning. I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be allowed at a Catholic mass...man, I remember when it was a big deal to wear jeans to mass, let alone snuggle with your sweetie. And, also? they were drinking coffee. During the service. Those Anglicans are wild, I tell you.

After the ceremony, we went up to the hall, where they had lunch set out! It was fabulous! The Wendys and I sat and talked for while drinking coffee and eating some pretty wonderful carrot cake with cream cheese icing. It was marvelous.

I can't remember the last time I had that much fun at church. Sorry, Irish-Catholic ancestors.

Monday, November 9, 2009

Amazing Race 15 Ep. 8

Thank heavens for Non-Elimination Legs! I was all tense and stabby when I thought Pinky and the Brain were out, but figured they might live to race another day when they did not get the Mercy Philimination right there in that Swedish hayfield. I can't imagine the producers letting them keep at it for hours on end, just to fulfill the "Curse of the Swedish Hell Farm". Man, that Gary is one tough nut. (I kept thinking "why did Matt make his old, wizened father do that task?" and then I found out that Gary is the same age as me.)

Somewhere in Sweden is a sighing farmer with a very messy hay field. Again.

I'm very glad I did not have to see Tiffany do that task. But I think Maria might have had to do it; there has been a rule in the past that each team member can only do so many Roadblocks, and I think Tiffany had done as many as she was allowed. Maria would have putzed around, doing one haybale for a few hours, and then laid down and cried.

Given the choice between Vikings and blowing things up, blowing things up wins hands down. Did you see how excited all the men were at the thought of blowing things up? I'm pretty sure even the all female teams would have opted for the dynamite task, too. (Who wouldn't?) As Thing 1 noted, "all boys care about is exploding stuff...they could spend all day there."

If I had been the Sam out there sweating my ass off, unrolling bale after bale of hay, I would have cheerfullymarched back to the road and stuffed hay in every one of my brother's orifices until he SHUT THE HELL UP!!

How much do I love Brian? He puts up with his harpy of a beauty-queen wife, his mother-in-law hates him AND he manages to shut Dan up with one single, polite, succinct remark: "This is a lot harder than it looks.". Love him.

I think this is the first time I've liked all of the last few teams, and would be happy to see any of them win. But I could do without the brothers.

The funniest part of the night for me was when Pinky and his dad were trying to say the Swedish street names: "turn on Farkenforgen", "right on Finkengarden?", "No, left on Blankenfarken", "what? turn on Hargenblasten?" It reminded me so much of the Swedish Chef from the Muppet Show.

Man, Phil just looked....disgusted when Dan started crying at the Amazing Bathmat. It looked to me like Phil wanted to say "come on, ya big baby, get a grip", and then slap him across the face..."And that? is from your brother."

I read on the internet that Mika and Canaan split up somewhere between the Amazing Bathmat and the end of filming.

Next week: Matt clearly never saw "Beauty and the Beast".

Friday, November 6, 2009

Fish Tales

Our fish finally died.

We've had a I say 'finally' because that thing was defying the laws of biology and nature in an increasingly alarming way. That fish has been hanging on by a thread for months now, swimming upside-down, languishing at the bottom of the bowl for hours on end, floating on the surface of the water and generally doing his level best to give us the idea that he was no longer. Then, when one of us would give the glass a rap to see if he was, in fact, dead, he's rouse himself out of his stupor and swim around as usual for a day or so and then repeat the performance. It was getting tiresome.
We have not had a great record when it comes to keeping fish. The Loudshoes household seems to be a Kryptonite for domesticated fish. This last one managed to survive us for at least a year (nobody is quite sure who bought him, or when), but we did go through a spell there with goldfish where they were practically disposable....I think we went through a couple a week.
When the first one, Goldie, died, the girls were quite small; we didn't even have Toby yet. Goldie's death was traumatic and agonizing....Thing 1 and Thing 2 cried as though their little hearts would break. By the time Sausage, the third one died, they hardly blinked. I got a passing "fish is dead" as one of them headed out to school one day. After that, they didn't even bother naming them, it was too much trouble to remember what it was called; they all ended up being called "the fish".
We eventually wised up and stopped getting 35 cent goldfish, and bought a Siamese Fighting Fish, or "Beta", which was not only prettier, but was also hardier. They tend to thrive on neglect (always abundant around here) and had the added bonus of entertaining us by puffing up and putting on a fierce show of aggression when placed in front of a mirror. (The goldfish were woefully unimpressive after that, how could they compete with the Liberace of the fish world?) The Betas tend to last a bit longer, too. No one could remember who bought this one, or when.
All I know is that it wasn't me, because the last thing I would pay good money for was one more thing I had to look after.
Anyway, it's finally gone, and I think it took us a couple of days to even notice, largely because he had been playing at dying for so long, none of us took him seriously. He probably died just to show us up.
I hope to God nobody around here takes it into their fool head to get another fish. Or else I will start languishing at the bottom of my bowl, and playing dead. I wonder if anyone will notice.

Tuesday, November 3, 2009

Self-Tanner Blues

Our assistant at work, Summer, is an all around nice girl that works hard and makes me laugh very much. She is 22, and I am 47, and I'm pretty sure she didn't think she would ever be friends with someone the same age as her mother.

Summer was going to a wedding last Saturday after work, and she brought all her stuff with her in the morning to get ready at the salon. Because she wasn't planning on wearing pantyhose, she put some self-tanner on her legs for a few days beforehand.
For those of you who are either hazy on the ins and outs of self-tanner, indeed, self-tanner at all, it is the fake tanning lotion you put on your pasty, fish-belly white skin to make it look as though you have been lolling in the sunshine.for days on end. Applying it is a bit tricky, since you can't always reach where you want to put it on, and it takes a few hours to "develop", so the thoroughness of your job isn't immediately apparent. Also, you can't let yourself touch anything until it dries. And it's kind of smelly. Why do we use that stuff again?

When Summer put her dress on and went to leave, she looked down to find that the tanner had taken on her knees better than the rest of her legs, which meant that her gams looked bitchin', but her knees looked grubby and foul. After a lot of swearing and exclaiming, she took a washcloth to the offending knees and gave them a good scrub.
But then when she went to leave, she looked down, and she'd scrubbed too hard! Her knees were now, and I quote, "two shiny, white glowing knobs in the middle of my legs!". I know it was Halloween and all, but that's not really the sort of look you want to sport at a wedding.

A quick application of bronzer (the powder stuff you put on your face to make it look like you've been lolling in the sun) and things were better.

She said she made sure she held her purse in front of her, and crossed her legs a lot until they got into the dim light of the reception hall.
Well played, Assistant, well played.

Monday, November 2, 2009

Amazing Race 15 Ep. 7

Oh, man, I wanted to smack Tiffany and Maria (mostly Maria) with that mallet myself. Really? It's that difficult to ring the bell? And you, Maria, did it exactly the same way, for what? 35 tries, and made no effort whatsoever to do anything different? I've seen 10 year olds go at "Whack a Mole" with more effect.

Apparently, they took 3 hours to do the Detours, and eventually they had to call in some medical personelle for Tiffany because she was shivering uncontrollably. (That's why she had on a hoodie at the end.) That did look hellishly cold for the beginning of August.

Maria was going to have to do all the rest of the Roadblocks for her team (she had only done the wasabi one) and so methinks they wouldn't have lasted too much farther anyway. When she said at the end "we can only do so much", Thing 1 and I shouted at our tv, "No, TIFFANY can only do so much!!"

I don't care what I had to eat, I wouldn't have gotten in that cold river for anything. Let alone volunteer to do it a second time. I am a cold water wimp, and would do just about anything to avoid getting in it. But I'd still man up if I had to do it. What if Canaan and Mika had made it this far? Can you see her getting in that river? Or eating that herring?

I love those Globetrotters, I just love them. They seem to manage to to everything with a smile on their faces.

Favorite Lines of the Night:"I don't wanna talk about it... but did you see me dance?!"
"These kids aren't used to luxury cars"
"I've already cried. You just didn't see that."
"We're not that kind of gay guys."
"Maybe now is when I tell Matt he's adopted."
I also have to give big props to the Amazing Editors: Flight Time said "we know Brian's name, because Erica keeps yelling "Briaaan, Briaaaan!", and then they immediately cut to Erica screeching "BRIAAAAAAN!"
I feel sort of badly for Erica, I think Killer Fatigue is getting the best of her. Man, that Brian is one easy-going guy. She's very lucky to be running this race with him and not me. He handles her very well, though, and keeps her going. She whines a LOT, but she doesn't quit. If I had had to sit on that bench for 30 minutes, my head would have burst into flames.
At the Pitstart, when Cheyne was wearing that yellow scarf, he reminded me of someone, and for the life of me, I couldn't remember who. Then I remembered: Fred from Scooby-Doo.


Next week: Hay bales!! (For those of you who came late to the party, back in a previous season, one team spent EIGHT hours pushing over hay bales, looking for a clue. I hope that team is the greeter at the next pitstop.)
And blowing up things!!

Until next week!

Sunday, November 1, 2009

No, No, November

Bliss. We turned back the clocks last night and that extra hour this morning was heavenly. We really should do that more than once a year, it's so very enjoyable.
Apart from the extra hour to sleep, I also enjoy the slight discombobulation I experience all day long, when it feels like it is later than it actually is; it's like being pleasantly off-kilter for 24 hours or so.

It was Halloween last night, and Thing 1 decided she was too old to go trick or treating, so she stayed in and handed out candy. Thing 2 was still game, (and claims she will be "until I'm graduating university".) and I went out with a posse of her friends around the neighbourhood. I've been blessed with good weather all the years my children have been old enough to go out, and I always knew that sooner or later, my luck would turn. Last night was it; man, was it cold. It didn't help that it was hella windy, too. My luck DID hold, though, in that it did not rain. Can you imagine trick-or-treating in the rain? Miserable beyond belief, would be my guess. Apart from the fact that costumes and rain don't mix, (in fact, if they don't actually dissolve in the rain, they get so bedraggled and ratty that you can't even recognize who they started out to be.), trudging around in the cold rain, begging for candy, is positively Dickensian.

Thing 2 went out as a "Glow Stick Girl" this year, which meant that her costume consisted of her wearing all black, and having about 60 glow sticks taped to her body. The Mister was in charge of her outfit, and they taped her up right before we left, so that the glow sticks wouldn't loose their mojo too early. (We shouldnt' have worried; those things were still glowing when I threw out the garbage after dinner tonight.) She looked pretty cool, out in the dark, and it was really easy to pick her out of the crowd.

We had a very lazy pajama day today here, which was fine by me. In fact, I spend an enormous amount of my life scheming of ways be able to avoid putting on real clothes and just hang out at home in my pajamas. I'm so delighted when it works out to my advantage.

And so starts November...which means....here comes Christmas.