My gorgeous, talented and funny friend ReRe has entered the world of blogging and all should know (OK, the 2 readers I have should be aware). Her blog Dating at 40 is some seriously funny stuff about her adventures back into the dating world. All should read and be amused - I know I am.
You go my friend, keep writing, get a book deal and become fabulously wealthy. Just checking, you do know that when that happens, you will be expected to buy me really nice presents.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Friday, March 28, 2008
HAPPY BLOGAVERSARY TO ME!
I totally missed it - it was March 14th 2006 that this little inauspicious blog began for no other reason than I loved reading other people's blogs and wanted one of my one (also, work was boring and this was something to do during the day). It seemed all the cool kids had one and since I fancy myself a cool kid (pause while I pat myself on the back) I decided to get one.
I am going to have to go buy myself something pretty to celebrate. If the 1st anniversary is paper - what do you get yourself for anniversary #2? I know - shoes!!!
I am going to have to go buy myself something pretty to celebrate. If the 1st anniversary is paper - what do you get yourself for anniversary #2? I know - shoes!!!
Monday, March 24, 2008
I LOVE THIS MAN!
This is an article from Macleans magazine - for anyone outside of Canada - it is a Canadian newsmagazine. I love this man because he put into words how we are all feeling about this goddamn winter that never seems to end. Please oh please - let spring find us soon. I have some very pretty shoes that are dying to be worn.
What's eating you, Mother Nature? Is it us?
I always pictured you as a nice lady, but after this much snow you're one mean slut
SCOTT FESCHUK March 12, 2008
An Open Letter to Mother Nature
Dear Bitch,
Are you for real?
We know it was wrong of us to stand idly by and let Al Gore show all those explicit photographs of what you're going to look like 30 years from now. But seriously — ease off. Enough with the apocalyptic downfalls of snow mixed with ice pellets mixed with freezing rain mixed with snow pellets mixed with the frozen tears of sedentary Maclean's columnists who just can't lift the shovel even one more goddamn time. I'm not saying I'm totally sick of winter, but see that animal's head mounted above my fireplace? Say hello to Punxsutawney Phil. Shadow-seeing bastard had it coming.
In Ottawa, we're closing in on the all-time record snowfall of 444.1 cm — a mark that has stood for almost four decades. Spring seems as far off as Jessica Alba's Academy Award. How bad is it in the nation's capital? I have to wear an avalanche beacon when I go out to get the paper. The local TV weather guy has the eerily distant look of a soldier with post-traumatic shock or a teenage virgin who's been left alone with Charlie Sheen for seven minutes. And at press time Scatman Crothers was desperately trying to get here before Jack Nicholson attacks my family.
Word is you've been kinder to other parts of Canada. Calgary was pushing 12 degrees this week. The mercury in Whitehorse hit the positive numbers. And Winnipeg reportedly made it a record six straight days without a single mosquito joke. But you continue to treat Ontario and all parts east as your own personal snow globe.
We've tried to have patience. Some of us have also tried patience's little helper, Xanax. But look what you've done to us. We're a quivering mass of shattered nerves, deadened eyes and extended middle fingers. Our arms ache from all the ice-scraping. Our eyes sting from the unrelenting glare. Our brains atrophy from hours spent staring at the shelves of the local DVD shop and trying to remember which of the Ernest movies we still haven't seen.
What's eating you, Mother Nature? Is it us? Listen, we all still have regrets about those 1970s commercials for Chiffon margarine — the ones with the catchphrase, "It's not nice to fool Mother Nature." The special effects were cheesy at best and some of those woodland creatures really phoned in their performances. And yes, we bear a collective responsibility for failing to punish Hollywood for callously having you portrayed in films by not only Phyllis Diller but also Bette Midler. Next time, Scarlett Johansson in a fig leaf. We promise.
But you need to lighten up. Winters like this — they're not something that humans are built to endure. In that way they're like all Robin Williams movies since 1987. We can't take the physical strain of trudging through this much snow. We can't take the mental strain of driving on impassable streets. And we can't outrun the yetis who've come down from the hills to feast.
What's that you say? If we don't like it we should go somewhere warmer? Oh you'd love that, wouldn't you? You'd love us to go to the airport so you can hurl another 50 cm of glistening white misery at us. We'll end up like those people on the news who spent half their March break in line at the departure-lounge Sbarro.
I always pictured you as a nice lady, sauntering through idyllic forests, bluebirds chirping merrily as they fluttered around your head. Maybe you'd stop now and then to enjoy a leisurely cup of tea with other famed anthropomorphized figures such as Jack Frost or Andy Rooney. And then you'd be on your way to cuddle a cute bunny rabbit or make the sun shine out of Barack Obama's ass.
But it turns out you're one mean slut. So much snow has fallen this winter that hell itself has frozen over — and you know what that means: now Rob Schneider gets to star in another movie. Thanks a lot, Mother Nature: first 410 cm of snow; next, Deuce Bigalow III: Gigolo Harder.
You and I have had our differences before. As one who sweats profusely under certain conditions, such as sitting quietly at room temperature, I wasn't too wild about the summer of 2005. By late June I was technically classified as an estuary. But this is different. This is worse. This winter has worn me down like a Rosie O'Donnell opinion. And to think this is the thanks I get from Mother Nature for spending 90 whole minutes cleaning up that riverbank that one afternoon 20 years ago when I was trying to hit on that enviro-chick who never wore a bra.
One last thing: because of the snow and the cold, I haven't been able to take down the Christmas lights yet. But with you in mind I did manage to rearrange them to spell, "Up Yours." We know it's not nice to fool you — but there's nothing in there that says we can't punch you in the face.
Sincerely,
Everyone
What's eating you, Mother Nature? Is it us?
I always pictured you as a nice lady, but after this much snow you're one mean slut
SCOTT FESCHUK March 12, 2008
An Open Letter to Mother Nature
Dear Bitch,
Are you for real?
We know it was wrong of us to stand idly by and let Al Gore show all those explicit photographs of what you're going to look like 30 years from now. But seriously — ease off. Enough with the apocalyptic downfalls of snow mixed with ice pellets mixed with freezing rain mixed with snow pellets mixed with the frozen tears of sedentary Maclean's columnists who just can't lift the shovel even one more goddamn time. I'm not saying I'm totally sick of winter, but see that animal's head mounted above my fireplace? Say hello to Punxsutawney Phil. Shadow-seeing bastard had it coming.
In Ottawa, we're closing in on the all-time record snowfall of 444.1 cm — a mark that has stood for almost four decades. Spring seems as far off as Jessica Alba's Academy Award. How bad is it in the nation's capital? I have to wear an avalanche beacon when I go out to get the paper. The local TV weather guy has the eerily distant look of a soldier with post-traumatic shock or a teenage virgin who's been left alone with Charlie Sheen for seven minutes. And at press time Scatman Crothers was desperately trying to get here before Jack Nicholson attacks my family.
Word is you've been kinder to other parts of Canada. Calgary was pushing 12 degrees this week. The mercury in Whitehorse hit the positive numbers. And Winnipeg reportedly made it a record six straight days without a single mosquito joke. But you continue to treat Ontario and all parts east as your own personal snow globe.
We've tried to have patience. Some of us have also tried patience's little helper, Xanax. But look what you've done to us. We're a quivering mass of shattered nerves, deadened eyes and extended middle fingers. Our arms ache from all the ice-scraping. Our eyes sting from the unrelenting glare. Our brains atrophy from hours spent staring at the shelves of the local DVD shop and trying to remember which of the Ernest movies we still haven't seen.
What's eating you, Mother Nature? Is it us? Listen, we all still have regrets about those 1970s commercials for Chiffon margarine — the ones with the catchphrase, "It's not nice to fool Mother Nature." The special effects were cheesy at best and some of those woodland creatures really phoned in their performances. And yes, we bear a collective responsibility for failing to punish Hollywood for callously having you portrayed in films by not only Phyllis Diller but also Bette Midler. Next time, Scarlett Johansson in a fig leaf. We promise.
But you need to lighten up. Winters like this — they're not something that humans are built to endure. In that way they're like all Robin Williams movies since 1987. We can't take the physical strain of trudging through this much snow. We can't take the mental strain of driving on impassable streets. And we can't outrun the yetis who've come down from the hills to feast.
What's that you say? If we don't like it we should go somewhere warmer? Oh you'd love that, wouldn't you? You'd love us to go to the airport so you can hurl another 50 cm of glistening white misery at us. We'll end up like those people on the news who spent half their March break in line at the departure-lounge Sbarro.
I always pictured you as a nice lady, sauntering through idyllic forests, bluebirds chirping merrily as they fluttered around your head. Maybe you'd stop now and then to enjoy a leisurely cup of tea with other famed anthropomorphized figures such as Jack Frost or Andy Rooney. And then you'd be on your way to cuddle a cute bunny rabbit or make the sun shine out of Barack Obama's ass.
But it turns out you're one mean slut. So much snow has fallen this winter that hell itself has frozen over — and you know what that means: now Rob Schneider gets to star in another movie. Thanks a lot, Mother Nature: first 410 cm of snow; next, Deuce Bigalow III: Gigolo Harder.
You and I have had our differences before. As one who sweats profusely under certain conditions, such as sitting quietly at room temperature, I wasn't too wild about the summer of 2005. By late June I was technically classified as an estuary. But this is different. This is worse. This winter has worn me down like a Rosie O'Donnell opinion. And to think this is the thanks I get from Mother Nature for spending 90 whole minutes cleaning up that riverbank that one afternoon 20 years ago when I was trying to hit on that enviro-chick who never wore a bra.
One last thing: because of the snow and the cold, I haven't been able to take down the Christmas lights yet. But with you in mind I did manage to rearrange them to spell, "Up Yours." We know it's not nice to fool you — but there's nothing in there that says we can't punch you in the face.
Sincerely,
Everyone
Thursday, March 13, 2008
FEELING UNAPPRECIATED AT WORK LATELY?
Tuesday, March 11, 2008
FINALLY!!!!
At long last - the Great Scanning Project of 2007 (yes I am aware that it is 2008) is now complete! All of our photos - taken before the great age of digital cameras are now scanned in and uploaded to Flickr.
I will now go and do the "I finished scanning dance" to celebrate! Should you wish to see the fruits of my labour - you can check out our Flickr site at www.flickr.com/photos/thesorority
Whew! Now what ever will I do with my time - I may actually have to work...
I will now go and do the "I finished scanning dance" to celebrate! Should you wish to see the fruits of my labour - you can check out our Flickr site at www.flickr.com/photos/thesorority
Whew! Now what ever will I do with my time - I may actually have to work...
Monday, March 10, 2008
I HATE WINTER!
I hate snow, winter, cold, down-filled coats (even though it keeps my mighty warm), boots, gloves, hats, shovelling, shivering and generally all things associated with winter!
I am officially raising the white flag - You win winter! You have kicked my ass mightily and you are the winner! Now that you have won - can you please leave and let spring come! Pretty please with a cherry on top!
I am officially raising the white flag - You win winter! You have kicked my ass mightily and you are the winner! Now that you have won - can you please leave and let spring come! Pretty please with a cherry on top!
Wednesday, March 05, 2008
ALWAYS
My girlfriend Kacy sent me this email and I loved it! The author of this letter and I will probably never meet but I ADORE her! Only a team of men could have come up with the tagline that prompted this letter. Read on women of the internet and enjoy!
This is an actual letter from an Austin woman sent to American company Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. It's PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best webmail-award-winning letter.
Dear Mr. Thatcher,
I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.
Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.'
Isn't the human body amazing?As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customer's monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women.
The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.'
Are you f------ kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness, is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.
For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong',
Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullshit. And that's a promise I will keep. Always. . .
Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin , TX
This is an actual letter from an Austin woman sent to American company Proctor and Gamble regarding their feminine products. She really gets rolling after the first paragraph. It's PC Magazine's 2007 editors' choice for best webmail-award-winning letter.
Dear Mr. Thatcher,
I have been a loyal user of your 'Always' maxi pads for over 20 years and I appreciate many of their features. Why, without the LeakGuard Core or Dri-Weave absorbency, I'd probably never go horseback riding or salsa dancing, and I'd certainly steer clear of running up and down the beach in tight, white shorts. But my favorite feature has to be your revolutionary Flexi-Wings. Kudos on being the only company smart enough to realize how crucial it is that maxi pads be aerodynamic. I can't tell you how safe and secure I feel each month knowing there's a little F-16 in my pants.
Have you ever had a menstrual period, Mr. Thatcher? I'm guessing you haven't. Well, my time of the month is starting right now. As I type, I can already feel hormonal forces violently surging through my body. Just a few minutes from now, my body will adjust and I'll be transformed into what my husband likes to call 'an inbred hillbilly with knife skills.'
Isn't the human body amazing?As Brand Manager in the Feminine-Hygiene Division, you've no doubt seen quite a bit of research on what exactly happens during your customer's monthly visits from 'Aunt Flo'. Therefore, you must know about the bloating, puffiness, and cramping we endure, and about our intense mood swings, crying jags, and out-of-control behavior. You surely realize it's a tough time for most women.
The point is, sir, you of all people must realize that America is just crawling with homicidal maniacs in Capri pants... Which brings me to the reason for my letter. Last month, while in the throes of cramping so painful I wanted to reach inside my body and yank out my uterus, I opened an Always maxi-pad, and there, printed on the adhesive backing, were these words: 'Have a Happy Period.'
Are you f------ kidding me? What I mean is, does any part of your tiny middle-manager brain really think happiness - actual smiling, laughing happiness, is possible during a menstrual period? Did anything mentioned above sound the least bit pleasurable? Well, did it, James? FYI, unless you're some kind of sick S&M freak, there will never be anything 'happy' about a day in which you have to jack yourself up on Motrin and Kahlua and lock yourself in your house just so you don't march down to the local Walgreen's armed with a hunting rifle and a sketchy plan to end your life in a blaze of glory.
For the love of God, pull your head out, man! If you have to slap a moronic message on a maxi pad, wouldn't it make more sense to say something that's actually pertinent, like 'Put down the Hammer' or 'Vehicular Manslaughter is Wrong',
Sir, please inform your Accounting Department that, effective immediately, there will be an $8 drop in monthly profits, for I have chosen to take my maxi-pad business elsewhere. And though I will certainly miss your Flex-Wings, I will not for one minute miss your brand of condescending bullshit. And that's a promise I will keep. Always. . .
Best,
Wendi Aarons
Austin , TX
Monday, March 03, 2008
THINGS TO DO WHILE YOUR HUSBAND IS AWAY SKIING!
Wilson was away skiing for 4 days and there was a brief moment where I was wondering how the hell am I going to deal with the mighty Arthur for 4 days - BY MYSELF!!! But then I took a breath and remembered that I could and did do the following:
- have popcorn and wine for dinner
- have Arthur all to myself
- eat pasta with tomato sauce (Wilson is not a pasta lover at all hence why we never eat it in our house)
- eat cookies and feel no guilt
- visit my gorgeous nephew and make him laugh - he is 8 months old today!
- watch movies that Wilson would never want to see - Away from Her, In the Valley of Elah, La Vie En Rose. Recommend all three but loved, loved, loved Away from Her and In the Valley of Elah.
- leave my shoes in the entry way (this makes Wilson INSANE!)
- not hang up my coat right away (see above)
- spend 2 fantastic hours with Mellie and Ivy (funniest moment of the weekend was watching Ivy try to dominate (aka hump) Arthur and then he decided to spin around and 'helicopter' Ivy.
All in all a good weekend for me. Got lots of stuff done and spent so much fun time with Arthur. By Sunday though - I had had enough alone time and wanted my husband back. And the best part of all - he missed me too! I got me lots and lots of kisses and a new pair of gloves.
And now - I am back at my desk but very happy that when I go home tonight there will be a brown puppy and a sweet but tired boy. A girl could not ask for anymore!
- have popcorn and wine for dinner
- have Arthur all to myself
- eat pasta with tomato sauce (Wilson is not a pasta lover at all hence why we never eat it in our house)
- eat cookies and feel no guilt
- visit my gorgeous nephew and make him laugh - he is 8 months old today!
- watch movies that Wilson would never want to see - Away from Her, In the Valley of Elah, La Vie En Rose. Recommend all three but loved, loved, loved Away from Her and In the Valley of Elah.
- leave my shoes in the entry way (this makes Wilson INSANE!)
- not hang up my coat right away (see above)
- spend 2 fantastic hours with Mellie and Ivy (funniest moment of the weekend was watching Ivy try to dominate (aka hump) Arthur and then he decided to spin around and 'helicopter' Ivy.
All in all a good weekend for me. Got lots of stuff done and spent so much fun time with Arthur. By Sunday though - I had had enough alone time and wanted my husband back. And the best part of all - he missed me too! I got me lots and lots of kisses and a new pair of gloves.
And now - I am back at my desk but very happy that when I go home tonight there will be a brown puppy and a sweet but tired boy. A girl could not ask for anymore!
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