So, at the beginning of November I was all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and renaming the month YESVEMBER in an effort to make it awesome.

Alas, in true November fashion this past month reared its ugly head and evolved into a downward spiral of shittiness. Which lead to goals being forgotten about, or just plain ditched, in favour of short-term sanity and an alternative to prescription drug abuse--retail therapy.

Without further whining and ado, here's a recap of how I did with my November goals.

Spending goals for November:
Rent: $1,500--CHECK! Can't avoid that baby.

Car insurance: $1,222--CHECK! Paid two weeks early too. Holla!

Car expenses (gas, tire change, oil change, bridge toll, etc.): $200

I actually came in a little under. I think I spent $90 in gas, $30 on the bridge and $60 on my tire change...so that's $180. HOWEVER, I also got a parking ticket for $25, which puts me $5 over budget. DISLIKE BUTTON.

Groceries and household expenses: $100

I spent about this much in groceries, pretty much bang on. I spent $60 earlier in the month and $25 more recently, plus I'm sure there were other assorted foods and errands here and there totalling pretty close to $100.


Gifts: $500*

Just doing the rough math in my head, I'm at $400ish with plenty more to come.


Wedding thank-you cards and postage: $125

Our thank-you cards cost $38! And our postage will probably be about $20. We'll be well under budget on the thank-you cards and mailing, so that's a nice surprise.


Miscellaneous: $200

I'm sure this was blown out of the water. I bought:
-lunch 3x this month--$30 total(ish)
-cupcakes--$6 (Peter bought us lunch at the Mongolie Grill. I figured I could spring for dessert!)
-clothing--$66
-personal care--$55 (moisturizer and eye cream, hair cut, shave gel, nail polish)
-date for Peter and I (movie and Swiss Chalet) $55--we went out after work on Friday to unwind from the week with a little Festive Special and New Moon action. It was nice to take HIM on a date for once and I'm happy about this expense.
-CD--$16. When out Christmas shopping I spotted the Glee soundtrack and picked it up. The music makes me happy and it seems wrong to steal happy music from Limewire. This is the first CD I've bought in years, but now I want lots of others (Where the Wild Things Are soundtrack, New Moon soundtrack. I'm a fiend for soundtracks apparently).
-lattes--$12. I had two Caramel Brulee lattes from Starbucks and a much more affordable but not as yummy McCafe.

Goals:
-no new clothes. I don't need new clothes. I don't need new clothes. I don't need new clothes. This will be my mantra. (Bet your little buttons I'll be marking catalog pages and leaving them around the apartment as Christmas hints!)

This didn't happen. I had to buy black stretch jeans for our dance competition (I found them at Garage for $30. The expense wasn't a total waste because I WILL wear them again.) I bought a sweater dress at Old Navy for $10 and a shirt from Joe Fresh for $5, plus a Smart Set necklace--$16. What can I say? Christmas shopping means "one for them, one for me" in terms of buying presents, apparently.

-bring my lunch every day this week. I brought lunch today. Tomorrow I'm on a video shoot all day and catering is provided. So that only leaves three lunches I'll need to pack--totally doable.

I did pretty well, buying lunch only three times all month. Once was Subway on the most stressful day of the year. Once was lunch with a former colleague, so it was a bit of an outing. The third time I went out for lunch with two coworkers and we just badly needed to get out of the office. Next month will be bad for lunches out because we want to do "Festive Special Fridays" with trips to Swiss Chalet for the Festive Special leading up to Christmas.

Stay tuned for December's budget and goals. I'm sure it will be a real hootenanny.

Yesterday I made a stupid mistake--I went to the mall on 20% Off Saturday with hopes of actually accomplishing some Christmas shopping and yummy bargains. How quickly those hopes were dashed. EVERYONE and their moms were at the mall yesterday afternoon. 20+ minutes to find a parking spot should have been a pretty good tip that the mall was going to be a zoo, but we braved it anyway.

Things escalated, I had an episode in Sears, and Peter had to usher me back to the car to avoid getting in a fistfight. We went home and wordlessly agreed never to bring up "the incident" again.

Here's an idea, storekeepers: host an afternoon during which shoppers pay 20% MORE to avoid douchebaggery. I would pay. I'm PO' and I'd still totally pay 20% more to be able to browse in peace, without being impaled by shopping carts or sweating bullets waiting in long lineups or having to ratch and dig through piles of sale merchandise like a groundhog making a burrow of sweaters and scarves. It's gross. I don't know what's worse to listen to: the baby screaming bloody murder or the hillbilly mom yelling at it to shut up or it's not getting any McDonald's.

Paying a premium for a calm shopping experience is something I'd be down with. Think about it: an environment where shopping carts, children, and more than five customers at a time aren't allowed. You and four others have full run of the store for 10-15 minutes. That's more than enough time to scout the place in piece, grab the items you want, pay and leave...very civilized. Very Zen.

Saving 20% is definitely not worth my sanity. I'd happily pay extra to make Christmas shopping into more of a pleasant and reasonable experience and less about popping Ativan and punching strangers in the face. You shouldn't have to resort to prescription drugs to check items off your Christmas list, and I for one am willing to cough up a little extra dough to ensure that's not the case.

It's the holidays after all. You're going to spend too much money, so why not ensure your shopping is as painless as possible? It's like a gift to yourself!

What could be more valuable than knowing your loved ones are getting gifts they adore, while you stay drug-free?

After all, if you're going to pop an Ativan to go shopping, you can't enjoy eggnog or Fireball the same day without worrying about side effects. Let's face it: the holidays are the best time of the year for festive drinkypoos. Now is not the time to be getting off the booze! Save that BS for after New Year's.

Cough up an extra $20 or $30, get your pressies, get out of the shops, and get a cocktail. Much more appealing than saving 20% on crappy, rushed gifts and crying all afternoon because you got stressed and slapped a child that wasn't yours. I think the choice is clear.

Lately I've wanted to spend all my time at home. I'm not sure why--whether it's the threat of winter coming, the early onset of darkness at the end of every day, the holidays approaching, or just exhaustion following a couple of the most stressful and all-consuming work weeks I've ever experienced--but all I want to do is be home.

I want to lie around and read, write, cook, listen to music, and just sit. I don't want to be getting jostled around in a mall or having to scream over the noise to communicate in a bar. I don't want to be stuck in traffic hollering at whoever's in front of me (generally dick licker or ass clown, depending on the day) to MOOOOOOOOOOOOVE! I just don't want to be out.

It's Saturday and tonight's agenda is looking very laid back. I have to run out to pick up a few things and when I come back I'm planning to run on the treadmill downstairs, have a bath, read, and go to bed at a respectable hour.

An exciting Saturday night? Not in the slightest. But after being run ragged all week, downtime sounds heavenly. Simple things like a bubble bath, a crossword puzzle, a walk around the neighbourhood...those are the things that are the most appealing right now. I want to be quiet.

Movie review to follow :)

Over the weekend Peter and I went furniture shopping to spend some of our wedding money and make our humble abode a little less hood. Specifically, we're looking for a new dining room table and chairs (I think our current one cost $199 at Zellers. My former roommate, who for anonymity's sake we'll call Melissa Kennedy, broke one of the chairs one time and it needed to be welded in seven places) and a bedroom set. Our bed has no headboard and we have two dressers and one nightstand, none of which are a set or even similar in wood tone. It feels like colonial New England/Ikea/forest cabin in here. It's like the Rainbow Valley of furniture. Needless to say new furniture is exciting for us as old married folk and all. The biggest thrill of our day is seeing what's in the mailbox and listening to the police news on the scanner.

So we found a dining room set and a bedroom set that we both love on the weekend. The bedroom set we liked best is from a large national chain but we found it at a discount store as well for a much better price. The guy working that day, Justin, who was wearing a rainbow plaid shirt I haven't quite forgotten, quoted us $2,000 for the entire set which is a pretty amazing deal. The set includes a queen canopy bed, dresser, chest of drawers, mirror, and two nightstands.

Side note: Are furniture salespeople the most stealth people on the planet? You're walking around the showroom and they're just THERE in front of you with deals, deals, deals! Like they dropped out of the rafters or something. It's very offputting, IMHO.

Tonight, we went to order the furniture. We went to get the bedroom set first. Rainbow Justin wasn't working and his coworkers said the best they could do was $2,500 taxes in. They said $2,000 wasn't even possible and that Somewhere Over the Rainbow Justin is "new to the job" and didn't know what he was talking about.

Naturally I was all "THAT'S FIVE HUNDRED DOLLARS' DIFFERENCE!" and flounced around amongst the bedroom sets in a huuuuge huff and left the store with a satisfying snotty whoosh. As I whooshed, I wondered if we should have just taken the set for $2,500. It's still an amazing deal and still much less than what the chain is asking.

What would you guys do? Take the set for $2,500 or haggle and argue for the $2,000 we were initially quoted?

Things to consider:

-I hate bartering prices. I feel like riffraff doing it. I like when the price is posted on something and I don't have to act like a greasebag trying to get a deal.

-That being said...it IS five hundred bucks. That's a lot of shoes.

What would you do?

We settled on this: we're going to call back when this Justin character is working, see if he can indeed get us the set for $2k, and even if not, we'll probably end up taking it for $2,500 provided they include delivery and perhaps installation. Peter is handy and all but if someone else wants to put together a bedroom set while we lounge with umbrella drinks and watch them I know which option I'm choosing.

We ordered our dining room set too. I can't wait to be EXCITED to sit at the table! Nine times out of ten I eat my food on the couch because our table and chairs suck so bad. They're fug and I don't want to sit at them. With the new table and chairs (WITH LEATHERY CUSHIONED SEATS!) meals at the table will be a fresh new experience! Computer work will be done at the table! Socializing will be done at the table! The couch is yesterday's news.

Oh yeah. The dining room set is on a boat coming from God knows where, Zimbabwe or someplace so it won't be here until December 15 at the earliest, and there's no guarantee it'll be in before Christmas. Womp-womp. Boats are barbaric. Who ships stuff by boat? Are we Christopher Columbus?

BTW: You're going to get a sneak peak into mi casa soon. There is an extra exciting project coming up that I'm very pumped about. It involves videos, a little friendly banter and some adult beverages. Stay tuned for more details. You might want to acquaint yourself with these people in advance.

I just got home from an approximately 13-14-hour, extremely stressful and edgy day and felt like having a tantrum. Instead, I'm going to try and focus on the things about today that weren't so bad. Then I'm going to go to sleep and wake up tomorrow hopefully feeling refreshed and completely ready to tackle Thursday.

1. Peter cooked me supper. We had poached chicken, perfectly crispy baked potatoes, corn, red wine and some chocolate cream pie for dessert. It was so nice to come home feeling absolutely ravenous and be able to vent while scarfing down an amazing dinner.

2. It's warm outside...+13 all day. I don't even mind the drizzle because it's warm.

3. I discovered Boozecats this morning--great for a laugh when you need a pick-me-up.

4. Christmas is one month from today. WOW--so much to do before then! I might take a Friday off over the next couple of weeks to have an extra work-free day to get my shopping done. My baking day is coming up too and I can't wait. This year I'm making Cora's Holiday Cookies, candy cane cupcakes, biscotti and perhaps gingerbread scones :)

Every night I hop up and down and yell, "I have to NaBloPoMo!" because I consider it a noun AND a verb. "Peter, what can I NaBloPoMo about?"

Peter sucks at giving blog topics. It's his one flaw, really. He usually suggests I write about whatever awesome thing he did on that particular day, the latest meal he cooked for me, how great he is at this or that, blah blah. Anyway, tonight when I demanded NaBloPoMo topics, we'd just come back from the gym in our building, and the Mormons on 9th (the ones that get locked out of their building when they go for runs at 6am?) were in there as well. So Peter suggested, "Why don't you write about what's up with the Mormons?"

I'm not familiar with what's up with "the Mormons" other than they wear ties and are super smiley and nice. But his suggestion did lead me to today's topic: religion.

I think anyone that meets me would be surprised to learn that I have indeed gone to church before and was actually quite involved in churchly things at one time. I have been told I don't necessarily emit the most God-like qualities, generally speaking. I disagree.

Jesus turned water into wine.
I too prefer wine to water.

Jesus wore flat sandals and dresses.
I wear flat sandals and dresses.

Jesus liked to preach to anyone that would listen.
I like to preach to anyone that listens.

Getting the drift? Just ask yourself, when you're tempted by Satan, WWAD? Then act accordingly.

My parents didn't go to church when I was little but when I started elementary school, my BFFs all went to Sunday school at the same Baptist church. I begged my parents to go because the cool kids went to Sunday school. My parents decided a little old-time religion wouldn't hurt anyone and thus my heathenism came to a screeching halt. I became a Sunday school regular. Eventually I started going to Awana on Wednesday nights. Other kids had Brownies...I had Awana. I memorized all the books of the Bible and can rattle them off to this day. I memorized Bible verses. I did cross-stitch crafts of...actual crosses.

In high school I continued going to my church's youth group and to Sunday school but things were starting to swing a little bit. Youth group was on Saturday nights. Parties were on Saturday nights. My parents had issues with some parties. They had no issues with youth group. I would get dropped off at the church at 6:30, wave at my parents, go into the church, run down the hall and out the door at the other end of the building, sneak through some bushes, go to whatever party was happening, and come back to the church by 10pm to get picked up. Did you know that drinking lemon gin has no smell?

I got away with this farce for months before my youth pastor ratted me out to my mother. Between that and an embarrassing Sunday school argument during which I (probably hungover from the previous night's "youth group") got into a heated debate with the youth pastor about whether or not women can become pastors (I said yes and he tried to tell me no...exsqueeze moi?) I stopped going to church. Between getting narced on and told that I couldn't be a pastor if I felt like it because I'm missing my bat and balls, which GOD neglected to give me I MIGHT ADD, church seemed like less of a good idea.

These days I go to church for weddings, funerals, and Christmas. And while I certainly don't consider myself religious, I do pray from time to time, which I feel guilty about because it's only when I want or need something. I like to believe there is something there, God or something like it, something that's in control and making good stuff happen. I find religion fascinating and the Bible has some amazing stories in it...but will I ever return to church regularly? I'm doubtful. I'll try to be an OK person, pray when I think of it, and hope for the best.

Apparently the American Music Awards were on last night. Since I'm old and married now with no concept of televised music events, I didn't know I'd missed them until today when I heard a news clip that Jennifer Lopez fell down on stage (I was hoping for more of a wipeout. She bounces up pretty instantly.)

Then I heard that Adam Lambert had caused a bit of a stir with a somewhat sexually racy performance. I don't know what or who an Adam Lambert is but when I hear 'sexual' and 'racy' I'm on Google faster than a 13 year old boy. Anyway, what I saw was this clip...racy, yes, suggestive, sure. I was only mildly surprised, but more than a little annoyed, to hear the response from viewers complaining about the performance, during which he kissed a man, along with various other acts of groping and what would be classified as "suggestive" touchy feely motions and stuff.

I wonder how many complaints there were back when Britney and Madonna (and Madonna and Christina Aguilera, but nobody seems to remember that one) kissed during the VMAs. I bet there were far fewer than the 1,500 complaints that ABC received today. What's the difference? The double standard is pathetic.

These people are entertainers. Calling them musicians is a stretch (obviously Madonna is ridiculously talented as an artist, performers like Britney and Adam Lambert are successful as entertainers and not necessarily because of their musical chops.) The point is, the theatrics on stage, the costumes, the dancers, the makeout sessions are as big a part of their act as their actual singing/lip syncing/drunken swaying and mumbling. Whatever they can do to generate attention and buzz is part of their schtick. It worked for Britney and Madonna and it worked for Adam Lambert. Before hearing about the performance, I had no idea who he was. Now I do. I find it funny that people can't fathom the concept of entertainment or don't understand when someone is trying to get a rise out of them.

Performers are looking for press through any means necessary. By complaining to networks, viewers are actually contributing to the success of performers like Adam Lambert and other "controversial" acts. I really wish I had the free time to contact my cable network to complain about something so stupid. Instead, I have the time to be sitting here blogging about it. Riiiight...

I guess I'm surprised that in a world where there is so much messed up stuff that people still get up in arms over something so trivial. I wish my worst problem was seeing two guys kiss for ratings on TV. I say props to you, Adam Lambert. I'm still not sure who you are, but you certainly had the performance of the night at the AMAs from the sound of things, and you manage to apply eyeliner better than most girls. Two thumbs up.

We received a bread maker as a wedding gift and this weekend I insisted on making a loaf of bread. I decided to start simple, with a loaf of basic white bread. How hard can it be, I wondered. Throw the ingredients in the breadmaker and whooooosh! it spits out a loaf of bread. Riiiight?

Yesterday we purchased a few ingredients needed for The Baking--primarily flour and yeast--both pretty essential to the breadmaking process, according to word on the street from my baking homeboys. We also needed nonfat powdered milk, which I had never heard of before, but OK. It's in the recipe so it must be in the store, I figured.

So we roll on over to Supastore (I call it that cause it's extra fly) to pick up the ingredients. First and foremost I freaked out about the flour. Did you know there are not one, not two, but MANY kinds of flour? I always buy all-purpose flour, or whole wheat if I'm feeling like tricking myself into believing my baking is healthy. But here I was faced with a wall of flour choices and no idea what to do. I took a real leap of faith and selected the flour labeled BEST FOR BREAD. Wild risk.

Then, it was time to purchase yeast. Again, a multitude of yeasts assaulted my eyes. I pulled out my cell to call Momma Bear because that's what I do when I have a baking emergency. I don't know how many times I've called my mother from the aisles of Supastore wondering how to make meringues or pizza dough or roast beef or Aunt Jemima knows what else.

Then I saw a little brown Fleischmann's Yeast jar with the label that read "FOR BREAD MACHINES". I hung up on my parents without saying hello. Ha! Powdered milk time...did you know that a powdered dairy product exists which you mix with water and then drink the mixture like milk? Does this make anyone else retch with phantom vom?

Fast forward to this afternoon (because after coming home from the grocery store at 10pm last night, we senior citizens were pretty zonked and crawled into our duvet cave like sleepy moles. Exciting night out and all) when I started The Baking.

Problem #1: the water was supposed to be between 20-32 degrees. Not sure about you chefs and chefettes but I don't keep a water thermometer in my kitchen for those water fever emergencies. I winged it.

Problem #2: I couldn't get the lid of the salt shaker to get out 3/4 of a teaspoon of the precious white crystals which would make or break my loaf. Burly Peter was too busy playing Duty Calls Let's Blow Up Random Shit Volume Two chopping wood and doing other useful things to open it for me, and we didn't have any spare salt in the kitchen to dip into, so I shook salt in the general direction of the teaspoon over the sink until enough had made its way into the spoon to suffice (meanwhile there's a mountain of salt accumulating in the sink).

I closed the lid of the bread machine with a little prayer and came back an hour later to check on its progress. To be honest, I was worried. There was a little doughy ball at the bottom of the pan, like a tennis ball in size, just sitting there. I assumed my water had been too hot and killed the yeast. I went for my run and for probably six of my 10-plus kilometres berated myself for being too stupid to bake bread successfully IN A BREAD MAKER and how this means I'm going to be a horrible mother and a sucky wife.

Back home (51 minutes later--GOOD TIME ON THE RUN, HUH!) I checked the bread again. It looked significantly puffier. Positive sign.

At this point, I won't drag this out for you any longer and keep you hanging on the edge of your seats wondering how the bread turned out. I know you're all going to skip to the end of the story, story ruiners.

SPOILER ALERT: It was awesome! The crust was perfectly crispy and the bread had a soft, light texture. It actually tastes and looks like bakery bread. We enjoyed our bread with some autumn vegetable soup and it was a tasty and simple meal to round out our weekend.

Step one of housewife transformation complete!

Making friends--good friends, friends you can hang out and do anything with--is hard. Since graduating, I've realized that most of the friends I've made (and by most, I mean probably all?) are because of work. I wish it was easier to make friends out and about. Like, you're at a coffeeshop and spot a girl whose bag you like, you comment on her bag, and you become friends. But instead, she finds you creepy and weird (worst case scenario) or says, "Thanks!" and smiles back and that's that.

I find it very easy to be friendly and get along well with essentially everyone and I have a lot of acquaintances, but when it comes to really good girlfriends--the kind you tell everything to, the kind you can rely on, the kind you can spend entire days with and have an amazing time--I could for sure count them on the fingers of one hand, and schedules and commitments make it hard to spend time with these friends. And I feel lonely. I'm NOT lonely--I have a husband who is my best friend--but sometimes I want to gossip shamelessly or get manicures or watch terribly trashy TV with someone else, and I feel bad making Peter watch The City and ANTM with me.

I have always had an easier time making friends with boys. I'm not sure why that is. I have a foul mouth and a dirty mind. That probably helps. Also, I don't consider myself to be very high maintenance or particularly girlie. I laugh a lot, I like sports and cars, and I think farts are hilarious and tiny dogs are stupid and not actually real dogs. I'm not particularly bitchy. I hate the issues that come up when you're hanging out with girls, how everyone complains how fat they (supposedly) are and the cattiness and the drama. With guys you don't get that. If boys are mad at each other, they'll call each other assholes and get over it. Girls will stew and drag their posses into it and drag out the pettiness until it's exponentially worse than the original tiff.

That being said, it makes me a little sad how difficult it is to connect with cool girls--potentially great friends--especially once you're out of university and into the working world. I love all my friends. But remember when you were little, in elementary school, and you could just go up to a kid on the playground and be like, "Want to play?" and boom, you were buddies. Why is it so tough to do that now? It's so easy to meet a date, between the Internet, friends desperate to hook you up with their single pals, or just being drunk at a bar and hitting on whatever looks decent at the time. It's too bad that identifying and growing genuine friendships can be so tricky and almost impossible.

1. I’ve come to realize that my chest-size. . . makes it easy for me to do things like running and jumping and flailing around without obstruction.

2. I’ve come to realize that my job. . . is the thing I think about and put the most energy into in my life. Whether that's good or bad, I haven't decided.

3. I’ve come to realize that when I’m driving alone. . . I have entire conversations with myself and am an excellent rapper.

4. I’ve come to realize that I need. . . to start taking better care of myself.

5. I’ve come to realize that I have lost. . . the inability to speak up.

6. I’ve come to realize that I hate it when. . . people get TOO CLOSE in unnecessary situations. Example: movie theatre bathroom, 30 empty stalls, and no matter what, SOMEONE WILL COME USE THE STALL NEXT TO YOU. Same thing in an empty parking lot!! WHY?

7. I’ve come to realize that if I’m drunk. . . I think I'm an amazing singer and dancer. And I'll be sick the next day.

8. I’ve come to realize that money. . . is totally the key to happiness. People who say that's not true are high hippies.

9. I’ve come to realize that certain people. . . only call when they want something.

10. I’ve come to realize that I’ll always. . . have a chocolate advent calendar at Christmas time.

11. I’ve come to realize that my sibling(s). . . will always be 8 and 5 years old in my mind.

12. I’ve come to realize that my mom. . . is way more complex than I used to think.

13. I’ve come to realize that cell phones. . . should come with leashes so you can't lose them. And drunk-dialing breathalyzers.

14. I’ve come to realize that when I woke up this morning. . . I should have gone back to sleep.

15. I’ve come to realize that last night before I went to sleep. . . I should have flossed. My dentist hates me.

16. I’ve come to realize that right now I am thinking. . . how can I be hungry already??

17. I’ve come to realize that my dad. . . needs a vacation. He's the definition of workaholic.

18. I’ve come to realize that when I get on Facebook. . . I get irritated at people who post about their baby's feeding/sleeping schedules and it makes me never want to have children for fear I'll turn into one of THOSE PEOPLE.

19. I’ve come to realize that today. . . is going to be lovely!

20. I’ve come to realize that tonight. . . Peter is making cinnamon buns. Wooo!

21. I’ve come to realize that tomorrow. . . I'm going to be stressed about work the following day.

22. I’ve come to realize that I really want to. . . feel secure.

23. I’ve come to realize that the some people… need to learn when to stop talking.

24. I’ve come to realize that life. . . is never, ever, ever boring.

25. I’ve come to realize that this weekend. . . is going to be laid back but busy.

26. I’ve realized the best music to listen to when I am upset. . . Dr Dre Chronic 2001. AHAHAHAHAHA

27. I’ve come to realize that my friends. . . are tremendously busy.

28. I’ve come to realize that this year. . . has flown by too quickly and been too stressy.

29. I’ve come to realize that my ex(s). . . are best left in the past.

30. I’ve come to realize that maybe I should. . . get going with my day. It's 10:43AM and I'm still in my Saturday hoodie, no shower, no tooth-brushing has occurred. Gross.

31. I’ve come to realize that I love. . . my Saturday hoodie.

32. I’ve come to realize that I don’t understand. . . the fascination with Robert Pattinson. Do not want.

33. I’ve come to realize my past. . . doesn't compare with my present.

34. I’ve come to realize that parties. . . are better when there is no guitar present. Get out the guitar and I'm out the door.

35. I’ve come to realize that I’m totally terrified. . . of not feeling valued.

36. I’ve come to realize that my life. . . is much better than I recognize.

But it's NaBloPoMo so I need to post.

Therefore, you get wedding photos:




The boys are so handsome. AWWWWIES.

Dear Santa,

How are you? I have been very good this year.

I've tried my very best at work every day and I've tried to be nice to my husband. I have only had one parking ticket, but it wasn't my fault. There was no sign that said you can't park in front of a stop sign. Anyway, I'll pay my fine. I haven't had any speeding tickets this year either! That's a big improvement over last year!

I haven't done any drugs and I haven't even been drunk more than 10 times. Again, I think this year is much better than last. I have read lots of books, practiced my music and cooked lots of treats. I have done a good job of staying out of trouble.

For Christmas I am having trouble coming up with gifts to ask for, so my list will be pretty short this year.

1. J. Crew catalog--please see any of the tailored dresses, any of the ruffly tops, and any of the bling-y jewelry. I like neutral colours and I'm a size...well...you know everything, right? No need to post it on the internet!

2. A new bag. I'm very much in need of a soft slouchy leathery bag. A good bag that will last for ages.

3. Club Monaco. Just walk into the store, close your eyes, spin around and grab something and you should be good. I like it all.

4. Body butter. Dry skin isn't cute. I'm sure you know this, being a resident of the North Pole and all.

5. New piano music. Peter is sick of hearing Greensleeves and Fur Elise over and over again ad nauseum. Simple music though. I'm pretty sucky, as you know.

6. Books, books, books! Or gift cards to buy books. I think I could be described as a turbodork.

7. Big plastic containers for organizing my closets. Again...TURBODORK. I have a lot of stuff. This stuff needs a place.

8. Shoooooes. You know what I like.

9. Gloves that are good for driving.

10. Lots of dates with my hot husband.

11. Self-esteem.

12. Contentment.

13. Relaxation.

14. Talent.

15. OPI nail polishes. A selection. I like the dark colours.

16. Opportunities.

17. Luck.

I think that considering how good I have been this year and how hard I have worked, this is not a very unrealistic list.

See you on December 24. I'll leave out some Bailey's and milk.

Love,
Amy

Over the past two days we've taken part in an 'ideation' course at work with the objective of learning to tap into our creative mindsets and not just come up with great ideas, but build on our instinctive ideas, hone the good ones and throw out the bad ones.

It's been interesting. Particularly because, as account people, we're seen as "suits"--the un-fun folks in the ad agency culture. The creatives get to be wacky and fun and come up with all the cool ideas. The account people are there to manage budgets and timelines and generally be buzzkills.

I liked that we got to take part in a workshop that focused on creativity and exercising that part of our brains. Personally, I loooove brainstorming sessions at work. I like to work closely with the creative team when I can because I love seeing ideas grow and flourish and come to life, and yes, get trampled and discarded when they're not so great. I love that part of the process.

One of the interesting things I learned from the session is that I'm a "machine gun" idea generator. I come up with ideas quickly and easily and am not afraid to shout out the stupid ones in addition to the good ones. There are also "detectives" (who need lots of background and context before coming up with ideas), "sifters" (who are good at determining which ideas are great and which are bad) and "honers" (ones who focus on one singular good idea and bust it out to perfection).

I'm not surprised to learn that I'm a machine gun. Even at home I come up with ideas quickly and always have a list of twenty million things to do that all seem awesome. The problem is, I don't give them the care and feeding they need to grow. I end up forgetting about them.

Hopefully, with the learnings from the workshop I'll be able to focus more on some of my ideas, bust them out into plans, and accomplish some cool things.

I have dozens of little ideas bubbling up right now. I can't wait to put some of them into action. I feel inspired and excited about the next several weeks, which is pretty much the best feeling you can ask for.

This morning I attended a class at Dalhousie University to answer questions about the ad campaign that Colour developed for their corporate residency MBA program, an account that I worked on pretty extensively through 2008.

The visit to Dal was interesting. It took me back to my post-secondary school years and, as always whenever I visit a university, made me think about going back to school.

I doubt that I'll ever go back to school. I'm 28 and a little long in the tooth to be gallivanting around with the undergrad crowd. But there's something to be desired about the schedule of a student. I lived a three-minute walk from the school and I had things timed perfectly. If I showered before bed, I could wake up at 8:45, slap on some makeup and clothes, leave the house at 8:56 and be in class with one minute to spare. Then it was a whopping one hour before my first break, which I'd streeeetch for 45 minutes. Then we'd do a two-hour lunch. In total I spent probably three hours a day actually *in* class.

There's none of that these days, oh no. I probably actually leave the building at lunch time once a week, and the two-hour lunch is a distant memory. Breaks are quick and usually consist of checking e-mail or going to the bathroom. Today, I left the office at 6:00 and was pretty pumped about it...and I'd arrived at work at 7:00am.

Being a student isn't all fun and frolic, however. I remember stealing garlic fingers out of the fridge in the profs' lounge after a staff party because I had no groceries and no money to buy food--although I'm pretty sure I had money for alcohol. Funny how priorities shift. I suffered through psychotic roommates, a house with five cats (FIVE CATS) and a landlord who was a religious fanatic all in the name of having affordable places to live.

At the time, none of this seemed like a big deal, but now I think going back to the student lifestyle would be akin to being a Survivor contestant without the chance to win a prize--it's dirty, tiring, malnourishing and gets old mighty quickly.

So while I had a little moment of envy for the Dal students today, I have to say I prefer the working world. Making money instead of spending it all on tuition and Crown Royal. Being able to buy clothes, not borrow the roommates'. Eating meals that are comprised of the four food groups--the actual four food groups, not PopTarts, Mr. Noodles, beer, and Revs. Just thinking about my diet in college gives me the dry heaves and a case of phantom scurvy.

What I do miss: the companionship, the opportunities to make friends, the lack of responsibilities, sleeping in, the free gym membership that I used all of three times.

Is it worth it to go back? No way. Not for me!

Have I mentioned I hate Sunday nights? I'm nauseous and ready to cry. Last week ended on a crappy-ish note (see Friday the 13th post for reference) and I don't want to risk a repeat this week.

It's definitely going to be a busy week. At work we have a training session all day Monday and half a day Tuesday and several other projects that are either wrapping up or just getting started. Plus, there is life outside of work (gasp!) and I have thank-you cards to prepare, Christmas gifts to buy, miles to run, meals to cook, etc. So in the name of surviving this week I have some pretty specific to-dos that need to happen.

-Be in bed by 10pm every night. I'm overtired (I slept off and on until 3:00PM today--what does that tell you?) I can't afford to get run down and sleepy.
-Run 5 times, do weights twice, do yoga or a long walk once.
-Have Wednesday's dinner planned on Tuesday, including grocery list. It's my turn to make our Wednesday dinner this week. Last week Peter made a pretty complicated chicken parmesan so there's some pressure! I have a couple options in mind.
-Clean out at least two dresser drawers.
-Choose a photo for our thank-you cards and request from our photographer.
-Have two Christmas gifts bought by Sunday as well as wrapping paper.
-Make a loaf of bread in our new breadmaker! This should be simple. I have a feeling it won't be.

I decided to start my Christmas shopping on a busy Saturday morning when a lot of the shopping centres in our area were having 30% off, no tax, etc. Great idea, huh? I set out pretty early with hopes of beating others to the punch. Not surprisingly, everyone seemed to have the same plan.

I went first to Chapters (mostly so I could sample a Caramel Brulee Latte) and then headed to Dartmouth Crossing to pick up some gifts. The stores were busy. The lines were long. The people were slow. AND THEN I got trapped in the parking lot, which has got to be one of the most frustrating experiences ever, particularly when you can't wait to escape. Allow me to use the powerful medium of visual art to demonstrate the scenario:



So you can see me parked in my spot in my little car, not hugging the yellow lines, being a responsible parker.

On my left you will see a GMC Envoy that was parked pretty much right on the line--to get in the car, I had to kind of turn and shimmy sideways to avoid nailing him (you know it's a man, shut up and let me generalize) with my door. On my right was a humungous black pickup that was parked pretty much on the line and also stuck out a bunch into the road. And directly behind me was yet ANOTHER monstrous black truck, with his nose also sticking out into the road, and a very classy guy at the wheel. Every time I looked in my rearview mirror all I could see was the colourful lenses of his Faukleys circa 1997 staring back at me. There was also a car parked directly in front of me so I couldn't just drive out of the space.

I tried to back up but I was completely trapped. I couldn't turn to either side because the trucks were so close, and I couldn't get backed up enough thanks to Faukleys to execute an Austin Powers-style 200-point turn to get out.

So I had no choice but to sit.

And fume.

I got more and more upset. And there was nothing I could have done!

I sat in the car and listened to my new Glee soundtrack, which kind of calmed me down. It was my Christmas present to myself. FYI, when Christmas shopping, the "one for them, one for me" present buying philosophy makes the whole thing a lot less painful.

Finally, Faukley's poodle-headed woman came out from wherever she'd been shopping and after what looked like a brief argument from my rearview mirror vantage point ("I've been sittin' in this truck all goddamn mornin' and now my Tim's is cold." "Well, you coulda told me there's no K-Mart in Dartmouth Crossin', lazy asshole!") they left. I took the opportunity to scoot. I felt like an animal that has been released from captivity back to the wild.

In total, I was probably trapped for 15 minutes. It felt like hours.

For the rest of the morning, I parked at the edge of every parking lot I entered to make for easy escapes. It meant having to hike a little longer carrying my bags but being able to leave when I felt like it was completely worth it. I made a little dent in my Christmas list and didn't cry or get into a fight--a successful shopping day.

Today was Friday the 13th and I should have stayed in bed! The morning started off with me freaking out over my new haircut (hate) and not being able to get my hair arranged how I liked it. Confession: I cheaped out and went to First Choice for a haircut (mistake #1). Normally I go to a salon downtown and see the same stylist, who knows my hair texture and can work with it really well. Yesterday, I decided spur of the moment that I needed a haircut after work. And in the interest of trying to be all frugal and recessionista and whatnot, I decided to go for the fast 'n' cheap option. Well, I look like Mowgli now:



Same haircut, same body, same disgruntled expression.

Anyway. I pulled my hair back into a stupid bob-tail and went to work sans breakfast, since I'd spent all my breakfast-eating time arsing around with my hair. So I had to settle for a banana at my desk (I know, biiiiig sacrifice, right? But normally breakfast is one of my favourite times of the day. I like to eat breakfast at a leisurely pace with coffee in my living room. A banana at my desk doesn't count.)

THENNNN I get to a meeting. Since parking in this particular area of the city is minimal to say the least I parked pretty close to a stop sign. I knew it was a bad idea. Halfway through the meeting I look out the window and there's the parking ticket guy measuring the distance from the stop sign to my car. I run out of the meeting and out of the building to move the car but too late--he's already put a $25 parking ticket on my car and won't take it back, even though I was about 10 seconds too late, if that. I know I was completely in the wrong and deserved the ticket but it's just one of those things. You know? If I'd spotted the guy a couple seconds sooner I could have avoided a ticket.

At the office everyone seemed really antsy and a lot of things blew up today, not just for me but for my coworkers as well. The atmosphere was tense and everybody seemed at their wits' end. It was just one of those days...actually, it's been one of those weeks. I'm beyond happy the weekend is here.

1. Pete and I went to a hockey game tonight, complete with rink beer, drunken idiots and lots of fights. It was a good way to destress after a very full week.

2. I'm doing a long run tomorrow. Running always helps clear my head, especially running outside.

3. Tomorrow is our Mocean fundraiser dance competition! If you're in Halifax, come to the McInnis Room in the Dal SUB at 7:30 to see team Colour make complete asses of ourselves.

4. After said dance competition, there will be drinkypoos. Much needed drinkypoos.

5. This weekend I'm also hoping to get started on Christmas shopping and conquer this stupid cheap-ass $15 haircut, because I'm not rocking the bobtail until it grows out.

Friday the 13th now has 63 minutes to go and I plan on sleeping them away. Onward and upward!

When I was a kid I got in trouble a LOT. I wasn't particularly bad...just noisy. And bossy. And sassy. Hard to believe, right? So trying to think back on my most creative punishment is tricky.

I remember dozens of times as a little kid being in a grocery store or a department store in my puffy winter coat and ski pants, ready to pass out from the heat in the store. I was probably sleepy and not in the mood to be out shopping. So naturally, I'd get antsy. Maybe I'd start pulling random food off the shelves and dropping it into the cart. Maybe I'd pick at my baby siblings in hopes I'd get them crying so we'd be rushed out of the store. Or I'd just start whining for treats.

At a certain point my dad would hiss in my ear, "IF YOU DON'T STOP THAT RIGHT NOW I'M GOING TO PULL DOWN YOUR PANTS AND SPANK YOU RIGHT IN THE MIDDLE OF THIS STORE IN FRONT OF ALL THESE PEOPLE!!!!!" I don't know what it was about that threat but whatever I was doing, I stopped. The funny thing was, we never ever got spanked--it was a totally idle threat. But something about the embarrassment of potentially being bare-assed in front of a store full of well-behaved children and their NICE parents was enough to shut me up. Every time.

Once, when I was around kindergarten age, I slapped my sister and of course she started blatting. My mother was exasperated. "That's it!! You're going to your room for ONE HOUR!!"

I had no comprehension of one hour. I went to my room. I yelled out after probably three or four minutes. "Can I come out yet?"

"No."

A couple minutes later. "Can I come out yet?"

"No."

I don't know how long she kept me in that room. It felt like DAYS. I kicked my bed and screamed and bawled and hyperventilated. I totally flipped out. When I was released I ran outside like a banshee. These days I'd give anything for an hour in my room in the middle of the day, to read or write or just SIT. Back then, it was like Alcatraz.

As I got bigger the punishments varied a little. Sending me to my room was no longer effective when I could crawl out the window, watch TV, and listen to music. In middle school, my parents started taking my phone away for days at a time when I did something bad. Pure torture. I'd hear the phone ringing in another room and hear Mom answer it. "Hello? Yes, she's here, but she can't come to the phone," she'd say, and I swear I could hear the smugness in her voice. I wrote in my journal about hating my parents and blah blah blah OMG WTF. (Except OMG WTF didn't exist then). I was never grounded but I was forced to miss events. I don't know how many high school dances I sulked through in my room, totally emo, listening to Silverchair or whatever I listened to when I was pissy.

None of my punishments were totally unique, save for a detention I had in middle school where they made all the detainees rub the black marks left behind by sneaker soles off the hallway floors. That was at least semi-interesting, although probably illegal (I'm pretty sure teachers can't force students to do janitorial work, but there you go).

Thanks to Mama Kat for the prompt!

Pete and I have been married for just about a month and we get asked a lot, "Sooooo, HOW'S MARRIED LIFE?" And the ask-er will sit there with that wide-eyed, mouth hanging open, expectant face, like we're going to reveal some horrible secret about our sordid existence and they just can't wait to gobble up the info.

The truth? Married life is exactly the same as before we were married.

Do we argue? Probably less than leading up to the wedding, when we were both stressed out with wedding planning.
Are we gaining weight? Nope...we're still both working out and eating the same.
Sex? Hasn't changed.
Pregnant? No.
Name? Same
Bank accounts? Still have our own.

We're happy and having fun and the only difference is that now we have a lot more cool gadgets to play with, thanks to our lovely wedding guests and their very generous gifts. I can't wait for my Christmas baking day (it's already scheduled--Sunday, December 6) so I can use my new bakeware and the 800-pound shiny black KitchenAid mixer that's on our countertop. Mornings have improved a gazillionfold since I started using our new coffeemaker before work. And right now I'm cuddled up in a cashmere throw that's nice and cozy.

All in all, things are just as nice as they were before. I like being married (although the terms "husband" and "wife" still sound weird) and I wouldn't change anything about our wedding and honeymoon. I love my husband very much and right now I feel like the happiest girl in the world.

In the past week and a couple of days, two girls I know quite well have gotten engaged. Love is in the air! It seems like these things happen in bunches: three couples will announce they're knocked up within a month; two friends will get new jobs in the same day, and so on.

I've been married a little less than one month now so clearly I'm the authority on the subject of marriage. Actually, I do have a little bit of advice, not about being a good wife (ha!) but about planning a wedding. It was both the biggest rush and the biggest drag of my life. I was stressed, panicky, irritated and totally anal, but at the same time, putting all that time and energy and planning into a special day can't help but be exciting.

So without further ado, here are a few little things to watch out for when planning the big day.

Be prepared for lots of questions you'll get tired of hearing.
From the initial "Soooo, have you set a date yet?" it begins--a barrage of queries you're going to hear hundreds of times. Take a deep breath, because it'll be one after another until you walk down that aisle. First, you'll have to tell your engagement story--how did he propose? Question number two and three: have you set a date? And where's the wedding? You'll be asked what your colours are, your flowers, your meal, your first dance song, all the details, big and little, about your day. You'll hear these questions from people who you've already told, and you'll be pissed off that they didn't listen when you told them the first time.

Don't poo-poo at shopping online!
I didn't try on a single wedding dress. I ordered my dress from J. Crew for $350 and it fit when it arrived. I hung it in the closet and crossed "dress" off my list. There was no agonizing, no trying on dozens of gowns, no tearful dressing room episodes. That being said, the dress was not a big priority for me--I saw it as something to wear for a few hours and never again--good thing too because I stepped in dog poop during the outdoor photo session. Which leads me to my next point...

Things are going to go wrong.
For me, there were a few things on my wedding day that threatened to send me over the edge. Number one: stepping in dog poop (thank goodness my aunt had a Tide pen in her bag--it saved the day). Number two: my grandmother, who lives 10 minutes away, was a no-show and now there's HUUUUGE drama family-wide, like excommunication-level bad. Whoa. Looks like we're out of the will. Number three: a baby that screamed throughout the entire ceremony. That's all I heard the entire time. Point being, realizing in advance that some things are going to be less than perfect makes it easier to accept when it happens.

Don't be afraid to ask for help or accept offers of help!
We had lots of offers of help and I generally turned them down thinking that people were just trying to be nice and no one wanted to be burdened with helping me with my wedding. In the last few days before the wedding, I started finally delegating things to my family and felt SO much better. I realized people actually do want to help. If someone's offering, take them up on it!

Martha, Martha, Martha
The wedding planning tools on Martha Stewart's website are amazing. I am convinced I wouldn't have made it to my wedding if not for these amazing, FREE helpers. Plus, after your wedding, submit reviews for five of your vendors and get a free gift reward (I'm getting an Amazon.com gift certificate).

Weddings make people crazy.
Otherwise sane people get crazy at wedding time. There will be extreme behaviour during and around your wedding. People will cry, people will be pissy for no reason...it's like weddings elevate emotions (and not just for girls!) They bring out the best and worst in people. It's the strangest thing to witness. You'll see weird traits in people you never realized before.

It's YOUR day!
We weren't totally traditional with our wedding. We didn't do a garter toss because I think they're disgusting. I didn't wear a veil and we didn't have a traditional guestbook or a father-daughter dance. But my dad did walk me down the aisle, I threw the bouquet, I wore something old, something new, something borrowed and something blue. Whether you want to go traditional or modern or a mix is up to you. If you want a short dress or a long dress it's up to you. Whether you want a sit-down dinner or a cocktail reception is up to you. People will try to choose things for you and it's easy to feel pressured into going along with them. Ultimately, it's your wedding and your choice...make sure you choose what makes you happy!

There are fewer than 50 shopping days left until Christmas--I'm being an ostrich about the actual number, but I realize it's freakily soon. A couple of my friends are already bragging about having all their presents bought and wrapped on Facebook. Where's that 'unfriend' button?

This year, I was planning on doing as much shopping as possible online. What's easier than sitting in the comfort of my own home in PJs, drinking big mugs of super liquored up gently spiked eggnog, tipsily adding things to my virtual shopping cart, and getting a mystery package 10 days later that I don't remember ordering or paying for? Easy!

But I just can't bring myself to do all my Christmas shopping online. I think I actually enjoy the stress. I like waiting in crazy lines and pushing through people. I like braving the crowds, the parking lots, and the sale racks. I like spending an afternoon cursing humankind and then arriving home with my bags full of presents and actually having a reason to crack an eggnog--to celebrate my triumphant return with gifts that took some effort to find and not knocking anyone out in the process.

I'm all for shopping online for those hard-to-get things, like items that we poor suckas in Halifax can't find in stores (ahem, J.Crew, Sephora and Bath & Body Works--that'd be you.) But for everything else, Christmas shopping online feels like cheating somehow, like running to the Superstore on the way to a potluck, buying a box of cookies, throwing them in a Tupperware container and pretending you baked them. Act like you've never done it. That's what I thought!

So this November...and probably December...I'll be braving the pre-Christmas craziness. Hopefully, having a list (and sticking to it!) will help make things as easy and painless as possible, and I'm planning to make or bake gifts for people when I can. I think enjoying a "special" eggnog before heading to the mall might help ease the sting of the whole experience, too.

I'm sitting here trying to write my obligatory daily NaBloPoMo post, and it's getting tricky. I'm pretty proud I've been able to post for eight consecutive days, especially since my big NaNoWriMo plans shit the bed after Day 2. I have come to the conclusion that you can't force creativity and you can't box it into a 30-day period. A post a day seems a lot more manageable.

But coming up with content gets challenging. If this blog is my story, what's today's chapter? I woke up, went running, went to dance practice, ate lunch, got groceries, bought a dress for $10 even though I had promised 'no clothes in November', had sushi, visited with my cousin. It was a good day, but nothing particularly exciting or read-worthy.

I'm going to give you some context into one part of my day. The sushi.

For 27 years I hated sushi. Abhorred it. I tried it a couple of times, including vegetarian sushi with carrots and cucumber, and found it disgusting. I made fun of sushi and said that everyone who eats it is a pretentious asshole pretending to like a gross food to be cool and that it was impossible to enjoy eating raw fish, rice, and seaweed. If my friends wanted to go out for a meal, I'd be quick to say, "I'll go anywhere except for sushi."

Then, when we were in the Dominican Republic last year, a strange thing happened. One of the dinner buffets had sushi on it and I think I'd had a little too much sun and rum that day because I popped a piece in my mouth, mostly to prove to Peter that I'd start puking on the spot. And I don't know how, or why, but I liked it! I tried another piece on the buffet. Loved it!!

When we came back to Canada, Peter was all, "Let's go for sushiiiiii!!" since the poor kid had been deprived of one of his favourite foods since we'd started dating. I was worried the sushi had been a one-time drunken Caribbean fluke and that I'd order a big plate of it and get sick instantly. Reluctantly I agreed to try it again, and picked some pretty safe varieties, like California roll and a spider roll. Success!!

I don't know what happened with my palate but sushi is now one of my favourite things to eat. I think I've had it once a week since April 2008, including today. It's quick, healthy, delicious, and comes in so many varieties you can't get bored. My favourites: sweet potato maki and spicy Alaska.

What's your favourite food? Have you ever hated a food with a passion and then suddenly craved it all the time?

Physical Things I Would Like To Change:

1. I'd have brighter, shinier, bouncier hair that's a prettier colour, either lighter or darker, but not so in-between. And a fun haircut. And hair that holds a curl or can be worn super-straight, depending on my mood.
2. I'd be firmer. Not necessarily 'thinner' but tighter all over.
3. I'd have bigger, whiter, prettier teeth.
4. I'd be more tanned year-round.
5. I'd have skinnier legs and a smaller ass.
6. I'd have stronger fingernails that are nicely shaped and don't peel and break so easily.
7. My skin would be smoother.
8. I would never get undereye circles on sleepy days.
9. I'd have perfect posture every day.

I have friends who just looove babies. They'll stop in their tracks when they see a cute baby in public and oooh and ahhh over the little wrinkly pink creature in a stroller. They want to hold babies, coo at babies, and look at baby clothes.

My mothering instinct is hiding, because I don't coo, oooh, or ahhh at babies. (The exception is babies in Halloween costumes or babies wearing hats that look like they have animal ears attached, because that's just adorable). I don't want to hold or touch or cuddle babies.

In fact, whenever I'm visiting with a baby--particularly a tiny one--I'll stand with my arms crossed in fear that someone will thrust their infant at me so I can hold it. I don't want to hold the baby. I'm in fear of either dropping it or squeezing it too hard.

You know how, when you're a little kid, you pick up a baby rabbit or kitten or chick and squeeze it tight, because you just love it so much, and its eyes kind of bulge out the sides of its head because you're loving it a little too hard? That's what I'm scared of doing to babies. (Or dropping them. I don't know which is worse).

I'm awkward with babies. I don't want to suck up to them to make them laugh at me. I don't want to be drooled or barfed on. I don't like the way they stare, or cry when they get close to me. I feel like I emit anti-baby rays. Babies pick up on it and hate me immediately if I pick them up. They cry and blat for their mothers and I hold them out at arms' length waiting for someone, anyone, to come take the bawling troll away.

This is a bit of a concern because somewhere down the road, I'm sure that I'll want to have a baby. This is not my roundabout way of announcing my pregnancy. One, I'm not that subtle, and two, I like my eggs unfertilized, mmmkay?

But eventually I'm sure Peter and I will want to add to our little herd. And I'm afraid that when I do, I'll be so grossed out and uncomfortable with the baby that he or she will have horrible mommy issues. Kanye will show up interrupting and shit, "Listen here, Margaret White, I think you're a horrible mother, and I'mma let you finish. But Amy Wheaton is the worst mother of all time! OF ALL TIME!"

Everyone says it'll change when I "have one of my own". But for now, I'm going to continue to look at babies from afar, keep my arms tightly folded, and get an animal to practice on. Thank your lucky stars I'm not planning on procreating anytime soon.

Good luck turning on the TV or visiting any vaguely news-related website without being bombarded about the latest conflicting swine flu reports. Get the vaccine! Don't get the vaccine! If you have flu-like symptoms, get to the emergency room! If you have flu-like symptoms, get to the designated H1N1 clinic! The message changes not just day to day, but hourly. I'm so confused I don't know what to do--I don't even know what the symptoms of swine flu are! And I don't think I'm the only one feeling this way.

I'm not an advocate of the flu shot under normal circumstances. I've never had one, and I'm from the school of "let your body fight it off" unless you fall into a high-risk category (people with compromised immune systems, the very young and the very elderly, those who work in health care, etc). I hate visiting the doctor and I prefer not to take any medication unless I'm really suffering. Even if I have a headache I'll try drinking some water or something with caffeine before taking an Advil.

But all the hype around swine flu definitely has me thinking about it more than I normally would. I'm still leaning towards not getting the vaccine and instead am trying to be extra diligent about washing my hands, avoiding touching surfaces that seem like they might be germy, keeping my hands away from my face, and so on, in hopes that those measures will be enough to help avoid catching H1N1. My gut instinct tells me not to worry, and my initial feeling--that swine flu was blown out of proportion to create a ton of panic--still holds true.

Still, there's a little bit of me that questions whether getting the vaccine would be a good idea. There's a niggling doubt that I'm putting myself in danger by not getting vaccinated. I tell that little voice to shut up, but it's hard to ignore.

For now, I choose to forgo the vaccine and see what happens, acknowledging the fact that it could be the stupidest choice I ever make. I just don't feel that there's enough solid backing on either side of the debate to make the decision clear for someone in my position--young, healthy, not pregnant. There are so many conflicting reports and stories and recommendations that for me, it makes the most sense to not inject myself with a vaccine with possible unknown side effects down the road. So instead I choose to risk catching a potentially deadly disease.

The different ways information is portrayed in the media, and the ways people process and react to that information, is fascinating to see. I'm curious to read reports once the flu season is over about what percentage of the population did get vaccinated.

If I survive flu season!

Where's my hand sanitizer and vitamin C?

It's blog post prompt time! Courtesy of Mama Kat my topic of choice this week is a list, which means smiles all around. I heart lists.

10 Things That Are Currently Keeping Me Up At Night

1. Work. Isn't that always the case? I worry about work. I fret. I lose sleep. I wake up in the wee hours of the morning at least four out of every five weeknights worrying about timelines and next steps and creative briefs. I worry about relationships with clients and relationships internally, including relationships that have nothing to do with me. I worry about whether my comment during the conference call was stupid, or whether I laughed inappropriately at something my boss said that maybe wasn't meant to be funny. I lose at least 10 hours' of middle-of-the-night sleep to work issues (real or imagined) on a weekly basis. Sad, huh?

2. Family. I live a couple of hours from my family and while this isn't a great distance I do think about what they're doing and when I'll see them next. I want to go home for a visit and it's looking less and less like that's going to happen this weekend, which leads to guilt, and then I'm there, staring at the clock radio and feeling like a bad daughter/sister/niece.

3. Friends. Similar to family, I lose sleep over not seeing my friends enough and wondering what they're up to and trying to plan schedules to see them. It's not all bad, though. Earlier this week I couldn't get to sleep because I was excited about Megan's engagement to her sweetie. I found out about it before bed and the good news made it tough to get to sleep!

4. The Duvet. We got this amazing duvet as a wedding gift and it's like a fluffy cloud of comfy warmth when we go to sleep, but a few times I've been woken in the middle of the night and am DRENCHED in sweat. The Duvet is trying to smother me. I kick it off. Then I lay there and think about work for a couple of hours.

5. TV . I feel like a lamewad going to bed at 9pm (which, to be honest, I could do every night of the week quite easily). But most of my "stories" are on after 9. I get sucked into the DVR and it traps me in a sticky web of teen angst and smizing. And then it's midnight and I can't tear myself away from the latest Whitney Port/Kelly Cutrone issue. Bingo=valuable sleep time down the drain!

6. Vanity. I will go to the bathroom and go through my whole getting-ready-for-bed routine. Brush teeth, floss, mouthwash. Wash face, toner, moisturizer, eye cream. Then I inspect. I look for new my first fine lines. I look for gray hairs (none yet!) I examine my pores. I pick at my nails. Peter bangs on the door and asks if I'm OK. "I'M ON THE TOILET!!" I shriek. But I'm actually just picking myself apart in the mirror. I do this with my body too and look at my stomach and legs from different angles and convince myself I've gained 10 pounds since the day before. I think I need help!

7. Clothes. At the risk of sounding like a complete geek I have laid awake planning my outfits for the entire week. LAME.

8. Scary Movies. The night before my wedding, my little brother wanted to watch The Exorcist with me. Noooo way! The first time I saw that movie I was awake until 3am convinced Linda Blair was in my room. I watched a stupid-ass Stephen King movie (The Sleepwalkers??) in high school and laid awake in my room until 6am scared of cat people.

9. Mysterious Vibrations. One night we heard this crazy vibrating noise. We looked everywhere--under the bed, on the bedside tables, around the room--we couldn't locate the source of the vibrating. Both our phones were out of the room and turned off. It turns out the noise was coming from our neighbour's apartment. Hmmmmm.

10. Mormons Locked Out of Their Apartments. 6am, phone rings, jarring us from a nice peaceful slumber. Peter staggers across the room to answer it, thinking it must be important, because who calls a landline at 6am? "Hey, it's the Mormons on 9th. We went for a morning jog and got locked out." Peter buzzed them in, we fell back asleep, and later wondered if we'd dreamed the whole thing. There are definitely Mormons who live on the 9th floor, a group of missionaries in their early 20s, and they definitely go for morning runs. Perhaps it actually happened. Maybe it was a dream. Only the Mormons will know for sure.

On Sunday night I got to see David Copperfield for free at the Halifax Metro Centre, thanks to some company-sponsored seats that were up for grabs. Let's be honest: I'll go to pretty much any event in the company box. Country music concert, wrestling douchebaggery, you name it, I'm there for the following reasons:

1. Seats high above the masses
2. Free snacks (nachos! wings!)
3. Free alcohol
4. Free pop and juice
5. Free admission to said events

Anyway, Sunday's entertainment was probably the only magician (or "illusionist?") I've ever heard of except for Harry Houdini and Raveen. Peter and I went not knowing what to expect. When we left an hour and a half later we still weren't sure what we'd seen.

Everybody knows magic isn't real, it's all sleight of hand and tricks in timing and lighting, blah blah blah. Nevertheless, some of the illusions were pretty fantastic. The worst part of the show for me was that it wasn't relaxing. The whole time I was watching and squinting and trying to figure out the secrets of all the tricks.

My conclusions are that a) the whole floor audience is made up of insiders secretly working for David Copperfield; b) David Copperfield is magic and thus is Satan; or c) he blinds us with his arrogance and gets away with sneaky stuff in the meantime.

In spite of having to sit through a 10-minute series of video clips outlining EVERY SINGLE TIME DAVID COPPERFIELD HAS BEEN MENTIONED IN MAINSTREAM MOVIES, TV AND MEDIA (it's a lot!!) the show was entertaining and a fun way to spend a Sunday.

Another benefit of watching from the box: the magician won't pick you as an assistant during the show. That stuff freaks me out. David Copperfield made 13 people disappear and also forced another guy to reveal the last time he got busy. NO THAAAAANKS!

November and December are always the most expensive months for me. This year is no exception. On top of the regular monthly expenses, as I've noted before, my car insurance is due this month for the year, which is a pretty substantial expense.

Plus, for the next three months I'm paying our full rent amount to reimburse Peter for my share of the wedding expenses. He's managed our wedding bank account and covering the big expenses out of that (photographer, venue, food, etc.) We're splitting the cost 50/50, but he feels weird about me writing him a big cheque for my share, so instead of that I'm going to take over the full rent and such until February.

Christmas is coming too. 53 days! That means buying gifts, going to parties and events, and other festive randoms that cost money--baking and crafts and such. I hate the commercialism of Christmas but at the same time, I don't really do anything to minimize it.

Without further ado, here is my budget for November:

Rent: $1,500
Car insurance: $1,222
Car expenses (gas, tire change, oil change, bridge toll, etc.): $200
Groceries and household expenses: $100
Gifts: $500*
Wedding thank-you cards and postage: $125
Miscellaneous: $200

Goals:
-no new clothes. I don't need new clothes. I don't need new clothes. I don't need new clothes. This will be my mantra. (Bet your little buttons I'll be marking catalog pages and leaving them around the apartment as Christmas hints!)
-bring my lunch every day this week. I brought lunch today. Tomorrow I'm on a video shoot all day and catering is provided. So that only leaves three lunches I'll need to pack--totally doable.
-the $500 for gifts is totally a shot in the dark. It could very easily end up being more than this. I'm basing this on a rough guesstimate and the fact that there's no way in hell I'll be done my Christmas shopping during the month of November, as much as I want to think I will, so I'm thinking I'll spend $500 now and X amount in December...but we'll see what actually happens once my shopping list is complete.

Also a little tidbit of note: the wedding thank-you cards and the extra rent money are already in my account. They won't be coming out of my take-home pay (THANK GOD). I've been setting aside $300-500 each month since the beginning of the year to cover my share of wedding costs so even with November's high expenses my account's in good shape.

November: arguably, the shittiest month of the year. It's gray and cold and it gets dark early. And it gets grayer, colder, and darker the farther into it we go. Thanksgiving and Halloween are over and it's too early to be publicly excited for Christmas without being regarded as a crazy Christmas freak. My car insurance for the year is also due in November. That's OK, I didn't really need that extra $1,200. November is the Debbie Downer of months.

We're only 11 hours into November and here's what's gone wrong thus far:

-Woke up with a wicked hangover--the ol' white wine-and-Jamieson combo did a royal number on my aging ass
-The pumpkins we'd carved rotted, leaked all over the dining room table, and grew mold fuzz that actually covered one of the pumpkins' eyes
-There was some mystery liquid in our kitchen garbage that made the whole room smell like a barnyard
-We "fell back" today with the time change. Does this mean an extra hour of sleep? Oh, no, I woke up bright and early. It's an extra hour to suffer with this ridiculous hangover.

And there are still 29 and a half days to go!

I'm not going to suffer through them. I'm going to try extra hard to make sure November is as minimally crappy as possible. I can't do anything about the weather and the general grossness of the month but I can certainly adjust my attitude! YEAH!

My November goals are as follows:

*Participate in NaBloPoMo and hopefully NaNoWriMo--gotta do something in those dark, chilly evenings!
*Run 5x/week; do weights at least 2x/week; plus one other random workout (walk, yoga, swim, etc.)
*Track all spending
*Get my snow tires on
*Clean out my clawwwwset
*Get a haircut! Before the wedding I was all AS SOON AS THIS IS OVER I'M CUTTING OFF ALL MY HURRRRR. It won't be that drastic but I'm definitely due for a chop.
*Have my Christmas card list done (I already bought my cards--what now!)
*Have our wedding thank-you cards done and sent
*I'm not going to say I want to be done Christmas shopping, because I know that won't be the case...but I do want to have a full list of everything I need to buy.

Fun, huh? We'll see how it goes!