I won't ask for much this Christmas I won't even wish for snow I'm just gonna keep on waiting underneath the mistletoe

I'm pretty sure beer was invented for retail managers during the holiday season. Case in point: I have just finally stopped moving for the first time today (aside from the drive home, it's also the first time I have sat since 1:30 this afternoon), and my bff Stella has managed to do a rather nice job of taking the edge off. Thanks buddy. You're the bestest.

How does the holiday season bring out the worst in people? I have asked myself this question every year for my 15 year life in retail management, but seriously, what the hell is wrong with people? Here's an example of holiday shopper stupidity: A woman comes into my store today (November 15) with a jacket she purchased yesterday and her receipt. She is furious that the sales person who sold it to her assured her that she could return the jacket if needed between December 28th and January 9th. When I told her that that was, in fact, the case, and she could indeed return it between those dates, she shoved her receipt in my face and demanded to know why we were lying to her, when it states on the receipt that "holiday gift purchases made after November 15th were eligible for returns between December 28th and January 9th". I told her that we understand that not everyone shops for the holidays only after November 15th, and have never been strict with our return policy, and that the associate was being helpful and honest with her. She proceeded to shove the receipt at me 3 more times, demanding to know why we would print that policy on the receipt if we weren't strict about it, even though I explained that from a customer service standpoint, we do everything to make our customers happy, and that we will gladly return her holiday purchases even if they were made prior to November 15th. So you know what she made me do? Return the entire purchase and resell it to her so today's date would reflect on her receipt. Apparently me telling her that I am the store manager and giving her my business card was not enough to assuage her neurosis that we would laugh in her face and tell her to shove her prior-to-November-15th-purchase up her ass. To be honest, I would have liked to, but that would have been at odds with the wondrous joy of the holiday retail season, where Mariah Carey makes whale sounds (read: generic Christmas pop) on sound systems in malls around the world, and reindeers take it upon themselves to shit in peoples' Corn Flakes, leaving me to deal with the fall-out.

40 more sleeps until you can all kiss my ass.

*All I Want For Christmas is You - Mariah Carey*

This is how I roll come on ladies it's time to go we headed to the bar baby don't be nervous no shoes no shirt and I still get service

Say it with me: "Fat Russian Magnetic Kid".

With spoons.

You're welcome.

This comes courtesy of one of my colleagues, a store manager in another province. He came across the picture of fat-russian-magnetic-kid while perusing the local paper one day. Apparently this kid is truly magnetic, and in order to demonstrate this wondrous super-power, spoons were judiciously applied all over his body.

This kid must have the best parents ever! (cough)sarcasm(cough) I'm pretty sure if I did this to my kid she would: a) never speak to me again; b) put Neet in my shampoo; c) spit in my coffee; or d) all of the above.

Anyhoo, my colleague decided this picture was too good to pass up, and meticulously cut it out and pasted it to a toilet paper roll, which he then mounted on a block of wood, and it is now an employee of the quarter trophy. I'm only jealous I didn't come up with the idea myself.

*Sexy and I Know It - LMFAO*

And it burns burns burns the ring of fire, the ring of fire

I seem to do a lot of stupid shit.  Today, for instance, as I was getting ready for a meeting, and choosing my accessories (it's a fashion company, this is how I get ready for meetings), I decided on this amazing ring I bought on my last trip to Cancun.  It's a stainless steel square band with a small clear stone set in it, and looks very much like a very cool men's wedding band, but is clearly a women's ring, as it is a size 5 and even the men in Mexico don't have that small of fingers.  At least I hope not, for the sake of all Mexican women...  Anyway, when I spotted it, I immediately fell in love with it, and upon trying it on discovered the only finger it fit was the ring finger on my left hand.  After much deliberation I decided to buy it anyway, but have barely worn it since, as I feel awkward wearing a ring on my  left hand that looks like a wedding band and I so don't want people to think I'm that girl...  you know the kind I'm talking about.  So anyway, back to this morning.  I take it out of my jewelry box, and decide what the hell, I've lost weight lately (10 pounds of being sick, 5 pounds of breakup - I don't eat when I'm depressed - I'll never be the fat ex-girlfriend), let's see if I can get it on my RIGHT hand.  And I did.  Unfortunately my finger seems to have swelled up since this morning, and now, after a vigorous effort involving olive oil, butter, and a lot of screaming and swearing on my part, the ring appears to now be fused onto my finger.

Notice the angry red swelling and chafing.  It hurts like a motherfucker too.  Great ring though.

If I get the damned thing off it's staying in my jewelry box.

*Ring of Fire - Johnny Cash*

All these places had their moments with lovers and friends I still can recall some are dead and some are living in my life I've loved them all

Stolen from S...

I have...

1.  been in love

2.  been heartbroken

3.  given birth to a child who decided that "posing" with her hand on her head during the labor process was an acceptable alternative to an "easy" delivery.

4.  walked face-first into a glass patio door while I was brushing my teeth.  Lucky for me, one of my best friends witnessed the entire thing and will likely never let me forget it.

5.  smoked pot.  Like, a lot of it.

6.  successfully escaped a bad relationship and have not looked back.

7.  had an amazing, movie-scene-worthy makeout on a beach in Mexico at night with a guy I had just met that day.

8.  flirted my way out of what would have been a $400 speeding ticket.

9.  regretted not getting that cute police officer's phone number.

10.  become close friends with both my sisters.

11.  partied until sunrise with one of my best friends since we both turned 30 (this one's for you, S)

12.  found a career I love.

13.  perfected a recipe for the best white chocolate brownies you have ever eaten.  And no, I will not give out the recipe, but if you're lucky I'll make you a batch.

14.  yelled at my daughter's principal and told her she sucks at her job and should quit.

15.  tried caviar.  Disgusting slop...

16.  realized I am coming up lacking as a Mom in so many ways, and try to be better at it every day.

17.  adopted a cat from the Humane Society.  ♥Frankie♥

18.  locked myself out of my car not once, not twice, but 3 times.  And one of those times was because I flushed my keys down a public toilet.

19.  been "caught" singing and sit-dancing while driving by other drivers.  And I don't give a rat's ass.

20.  tried to make peace with the fact that my mother and I just do not see eye to eye.  On anything.

21.  envisioned what my life would be like without various people in it just to see if I'll cry.  I always do.

22.  made a lot of choices in my life that I may regret on the surface, but am glad I made them, because without those choices I might be in a completely different place.

*In My Life - The Beatles*

Yes, I said it's fine before but I don't think so no more I said it's fine before I've changed my mind

Once again, it's been a while...

So it seems like I had my life exactly on track the way I wanted it last time I was here... oh how things change.

Once again I find myself in old patterns. In the past year or so, anytime I find myself "between" relationships I call on an old "friend" (read: someone I dated and got along great with, but not on the same page dating-wise, but great sex nonetheless). Oh, by the way, "man of my dreams" from a couple of posts ago and I have had a parting of the ways, as we unfortunately found ourselves to be in different phases in our lives and not as compatible as we once thought. But this isn't meant to be a pity party, this is the about-to-be-drunken-ramblings of me, needing to figure out where the hell my head is, and thinking, possibly mistakenly, that my seldom-updated blog is exactly the venue in which to do it. (Oh, in case I forgot to mention it, I cracked a bottle of red, and am systematically showing that motherfucker who's boss).

Where the hell was I going with that?...

Ok, think I got it.

So I am the girl who lets everyone think that I'm all anti-relationship, that I am fine on my own, that I don't need anyone. What a load. I finally found someone who I completely, 100% fell in love with, thinking he felt exactly the same way about me, and what happened? I got suckerpunched, that's what. If I go into any details at all I will be blubbering in my aforementioned shiraz, and that would be a ridiculous abuse of unsuspecting wine, but suffice it to say, I feel I got my butt handed to me on this one. So now I am doing my usual... running straight back to C in desperate attempt at distracting my brain from thinking about what happened with ridiculous hot sex the same night of the breakup. So now I find myself wondering if this makes me a bit of a slut? I was at a poker game with a bunch of girls back in the spring, some good friends mixed with some girls I had never met before, and near the end of the night, after I found myself sans poker chips, I found myself in conversation with a girl I had just met that night. (Just to preface this, everyone at that poker table was married with the exception of myself and J, who is in a long term relationship). Anyway, the conversation came around to my relationship status (something I find all married people are pathologically unable to sidestep), and after more than a few glasses of whatever it was I was drinking that night, I told her I was single, but sleeping with a few different people. I swear I could FEEL the eyebrows raise in that room (married women scandalized). At the time I couldn't care less what anyone thought about it, and still don't really (I advocate safe sex, and am very careful), but now I find myself wondering if I am avoiding the pain of breakups and loneliness by engaging in meaningless sex, and thinking I might be the emotional equivalent of... um... fucking shiraz.

Oh fuck it. I'm having more sex than married women. Eat me.

*Erase-Rewind - The Cardigans*

You want the sunrise to go back to bed I want to make you laugh

Just watched "Dear John". Cried what probably amounts to a keg of beer (what can I say, I drank a lot of beer this summer). Strangely, I enjoyed the movie more than the book, which pretty much never happens. This may possibly be due to 2 things: Channing Tatum (yum), and a much happier ending than the craptacular ending in the book (boo-urns). I won't ruin it for you, in case you like cheesy romance novels as much as I do, but suffice it to say that I might have to write a strongly worded letter to Nicholas Sparks and demand a re-write.

I hate sad endings. They ruin books, movies, love songs, etc... You get the point. Oh, except for Beaches. Best sad movie ending ever. As soon as I hear the first few notes to Wind Beneath My Wings I have this Pavlovian reaction and instantly start welling up like one of those cartoon puppies with the huge eyes who want the kid to adopt them. It's such a girl thing. Seriously, you find me one man who doesn't roll his eyes when Debra Winger, or Barbra Hershey, or Julia Roberts dies, and I will eat my handbag. Studded handbag. My best friend S, who I lived with for about 2 years, used to work for a video store, and once brought home this movie. One of the best lines in it is something along the lines of "women like movies where one person dies slowly, and men like movies where many people die very, very quickly". Pretty profound, for a movie with Carmen Electra...

*Paperweight - Joshua Radin feat. Schuyler Fisk*

I can see you your brown skin shining in the sun you got the top pulled down radio on baby

I am a fairweather blogger.

Sigh...

So it appears as though summer is nearing its annual finish line, as evenings become cooler, daylight hours become shorter, and cellulite of short-short-wearing women gradually is covered up in deference to cooler evenings and less sunlight. And I have to admit that, barring numerous cellulite sightings (seriously ladies, gym and tanning next year!) this was a pretty good summer. Shall I recap?

My summer Top Ten:

10. Great tan (par for the course, but always noteworthy)

9. Lots of alcohol-fueled evenings spent on the patio at Muddy Waters with best friend

8. Days at the beach plentiful as hottest summer in Winnipeg in a bazillion years

7. Discovered a-maz-ing rollerblade path at Birds Hill Park

6. Promoted (finally!) to Store Manager, so now have my own store and can really kick it into high gear with this whole bossing people around business:)

5. Happily let my daughter go to Calgary in July for most of the summer

4. Enjoyed freedom of being non-Mommy for 6 weeks

3. Freedom including but not limited to copious beer consumption, endless hours spent sunbathing at pool, and deciding to go out in the middle of the night simply because I could

2. Happily got my daughter back mid-August as freedom was beginning to get to me a little...

1. Seem to have met the man of my dreams.

Not a bad one. Hoping fall continues where summer leaves off...

*Boys of Summer - Don Henley*

No second billing 'cause you're a star now oh Cinderella they're all sluts like you

spec-ta-cle

[spek-tuh-kuhl]

-Idiom

1. make a spectacle of oneself, to call attention to one's unseemly behaviour; behave badly or foolishly in public: They tell me I made a spectacle of myself at the party last night.

2. this season of The Bachelorette.

Ugh. Bowlegged, airheaded, personality-deficient twit.

Ok, yah, I watch it. I'm one of those people you make fun of for wasting 2 hours of precious living time each week watching some dumbass woman claim she is looking to find her husband (a.k.a. "soulmate", a.k.a. "yin to my yang", a.k.a. "love of my life", "Prince Charming", or other such drivel) among 25 or so perfect strangers, whilst going on dates in perfectly mundane settings such as Thailand, or Bali, or Belize, often in group settings (awkward, anyone?), while engaging in such activities as helicopter rides, tight-rope-walking to picnics, or elephant Safari rides.

Oh, and did I mention the goal is to sucker the last sap standing into proposing after, like, 2 months of knowing her?

Right.

I want to see a "real" version of this show. Some guy picks her up in his Honda Civic, takes her to dinner at Olive Garden (bleuch) where there is that awkward moment when the waiter brings the bill and she makes the mandatory show of reaching for her handbag to make it look like she's willing to pay (but she's really not), then go for a walk near the river, while trying to ignore the smell coming from various mushroom plants and meat packing facilities nearby, and with him wishing he knew her well enough to feel comfortable to tell her she has a huge piece of spinach stuck in her teeth, and her trying to figure out why he hasn't kissed her yet. Then there's the drive home in awkward silence, both of them talking about their plans for the weekend ahead (embellished, so the other knows how cool and in demand the other is), and ending with a vague "I'll call you this weekend" (which really means a text message, sometime on Monday evening, that reads: "sry didnt call u this wkd supr busy wit frenz. u feel like movie l8r?") ...and so on ad infinitum. You get the picture.

Boring? Hell yes. Realistic? You betcha. This couple will probably end up dating and breaking up at least 3 times over the course of a year or so, have a pregnancy scare or two, and finally get engaged after realizing this is about as good as it's gonna get.

Reality t.v. at its finest. I'll even volunteer to be the first Bachelorette. Watch out everyone, my Prince Charming is out there!

... cue gagging noises...

*Celebrity Skin - Hole*

Yah pass that bottle around got the rock from Detroit soul from Motown the underground stoned f*cking pimp we trash the mack and slap back the wack

Just dragged my ass in from the pool...

Did I mention I was drinking beer by said pool? Guess not, as I just started this post.

Guess what beer in the sun does to your brain? In my case it appears to have pickled it to a nice fuzzy consistency. Am I making any sense at all? No... but due to aforementioned fuzzy-pickle brain, who cares?

So I'm seeing a pattern emerging in my posts, that being that I am an approximately-once-a-month blogger. You may think this is due to my fascinating, fast-paced, glamourous (Canadian spelling) life. It's not. I'm just that lazy. That, and nothing that exciting really seems to happen to me.

I was at the beach with one of my best friends -JG- yesterday. And as the norm, the conversation came around to relationships, and sadly, my lack thereof. I have gone through my fiercely independent stage, my lonely stage, my short-lived "I have a vibrator, who the fuck needs a man?" stage. and am currently in my "what is wrong with me?" stage? JG's opinion is that I may be too focused on looks, and that there is a possibility that I am overlooking great guys who may not be so great looking, and maybe I need to give these other guys a chance. I realize that what she says has a distinct ring of truth to it, and wonder how I got like this. I mean, I'm not exactly a supermodel myself, but I fully admit that I won't look twice at a guy if I don't find him wildly attractive on first meeting. And I know full well that I am not the only woman out there like this. It makes me wonder why it is that average women will not deem a man worthy of their time unless he is gorgeous? And why are we not looking at things like "is he a good person?", "does he still feel the need to go on all-weekend benders with his high school buddies he still hangs out with?", and so on.

Holy fuck this is way too SATC Carrie Bradshaw sitting at her laptop in front of an open window for my barley-soaked brain right now.

I need a Slurpee...

*American Badass - Kid Rock*

Don't pretend I think you know I'm damned precious and hell yah I'm the mother f***ing princess I can tell you like me too and you know I'm right

So. Been a while. Miss me?

Whatever. You did so.

You will all be so happy to know I survived my now 10-year-old daughter's sleepover birthday party. I say "survived" because, as anyone who has been in the company of 5 pre-teen girls at a given time knows, you have to be pretty savvy in order to see the sun rise again. Some of the highlights...

1. "Whatever". Apparently this is the word if you're an adolescent girl. It became only slightly annoying after the thousandth time I heard it.

2. Hot pink nail polish spilled all over my living room carpet after a lapse in judgement led me to allow each girl to do her own mani/pedi. This, in spite of an old queen sized sheet and a lengthy admonishment to all of the girls to "BE VERY CAREFUL". Famous last words. Did you know nail polish remover does not remove nail polish from beige carpet?

3. Listened to the girls discussing classmates "boyfriends", and "some girl who trash talks me because she thinks I made out with her boyfriend". ?!?!?!?!? They're 10!!! OMG, it was like listening to me and the girls, minus the martinis. I needed a drink after that...

*editor's note: did not have a drink after that. I was responsible for children. Duh.*

4. Successfully mediated several earth shattering intellectual debates (read: petty arguments) that leads me to believe I have missed my calling as a hostage negotiator/crisis manager.

5. Cleverly sidestepped being made-over by a bunch of blue-eyeshadow-wielding, giggling girls by negotiating aforementioned mani/pedis instead. Regretted it, as per nail polish-carpet debacle.

6. Made the scientific discovery that sugar does, in fact, cause hyperactivity in children.

7. Made the scientific discovery that alcohol does, in fact. counter the hyperactivity-causing effects of sugar.

*editor's note: I'M KIDDING. GIVE ME A BREAK!*

8. Endured hours of squealing and giggling about how cute Justin Bieber is.

9. Threw up in my mouth a little as a result of #8.

10. ...and did it all without any help from my besties Ernest and Julio.

Ta-da!!!

And I get to do it all again in another year. Where's that box of wine?

*Girlfriend - Avril Lavigne*

Can we film the operation? Is the head dead yet? You know the boys in the newsroom got a running bet. Get the widow on the set we need dirty laundry

So...

Last night as I was working on a project online (read: downloading music and shoe shopping) and half listening to the t.v. (I'm one of those people that always have the t.v. on for background noise), I heard the news that Bin Laden kicked it. Now, obviously good news right? I mean, I know there are bleeding hearts out there who are all "all human life is a gift", and "everyone has an eternal soul", and blah blah blah. Clearly I'm not one of them. I tend to think Americans are pretty much gun toting, flag waving, gum flapping fanaticals, but I do think they hit the nail on the head with capitol punishment, which we unfortunately do not have in Canada. I believe the punishment should fit the crime - you off someone, you should be offed yourself. I would take it one further than the U.S., though, and decree that your execution should be in the exact manner as that which you used on your victim. That might actually be a real deterrant, rather than letting criminals spend their sentences in country clubs with bars on the windows.

Whoops... I digress...

So here's where I'm confused: One of the networks claimed that the body is in the custody of the U.S., and is undergoing DNA testing to determine that it is, in fact, the body of Osama Bin Laden. Here's where I'm a little fuzzy: this man has been the most elusive fugitive on the planet for over a decade, evading capture despite the best efforts of the military. So it's all well and good that there is a body to take DNA samples from, but precisely what are they comparing to? I sincerely doubt he volunteered a blood sample at some point, just in case he died and wanted to assist in his absolute indentification. Another news station claimed that his body has been buried at sea. Really??? The U.S. government just decided to toss him overboard a navy ship just as the story broke? Sure. I have some excellent land in Florida to sell you if you believe that one.

The good thing about this story, aside from the obvious being that a terrorist is (possibly) dead (pending "DNA identification"), is it overshadowed the gong show that was the royal wedding. Now, instead of weeks and weeks of post-mortem on Kate's dress (too much lace), the Queen's hat (who cares), and William's thinning hair (seriously, he's not even 30 yet and he's bearing a startling resemblance to his dad, and no one is running out to make a calendar of him), now the world will be hearing some actual relevant news, and the people affected by the events of 9-11-01 can now perhaps get some kind of closure knowing the man who perpetrated these crimes is, in fact, dead.

We just have to get the news from a hairsprayed, overly-made-up news anchor with a shit eating grin. Oh well. I guess we can't win 'em all.

*Dirty Laundry - Don Henley*

Well you must be a girl with shoes like that she said you know me well I seen you and little Steven and Joanna round the back of my hotel oh yeah

Signs of spring in Winnipeg:

1. The overly excitable residents of this fair city go through their summer wardrobes and shorts and skirts and cropped pants begin to make their appearances. This would be all well and good, if it weren't for the lack of exfoliation and exposure to sun for an entire winter. Tip: Blindingly white skin = lost retinas.


2. Open toed shoes appear along with aforementioned shorter hemlines... ...along with the nastiest feet known to man. Not deliberately trying to make anyone vomit here, but I got on the escalator at the mall the other day, and right at eye-level with me were the crustiest, scaliest, YELLOWEST feet I have ever witnessed in my 33 years on this planet.


3. Pot holes the size of moon craters all over the city. Driving to work lately has become a combined effort to avoid the pot holes myself, and avoid the morons who swerve into my lane to avoid them. So far my poor Rico has escaped unscathed, but he's had a couple of scares.


4. Warm temperatures = open car windows = getting to eavesdrop on other people's conversations and hilarious singing while driving beside them and attempting to keep a straight face.


5. Warm temperatures = open car windows = me getting busted for my hilarious singing while driving beside other cars.


6. Geese, geese, everywhere. They're all cute and goose-like until you get too close to one and it hisses at you. (Freakiest shit I've ever seen!)


7. Not being able to go anywhere without someone talking about THE FLOOD. Now maybe I'm being insensitive here, but I live nowhere near anywhere that will see any overland water, nor do any of my friends or family members, so I'm really not all that concerned. If you are so gung-ho, rather than flap your gums about it to complete strangers, go fill a few sandbags and make yourself useful.*


8. My kid squelching around in her pink rubber boots. Does anyone else remember getting booters?


9. Not being able to leave home without allergy meds so I can actually breathe through the dust and mold. Ahhhh... Otrivin.


10. Shirtless joggers. Happy thought, only when assuming said shirtless jogger is a specimen straight off the Firefighter's calendar. Not so happy thought when said shirtless jogger is closing in on 60 with saggy man boobs.

*While do feel badly that many people will likely see flood damage to their homes in the next month, I just want to point out that when purchasing property, it is only good sense to research the area you are looking to buy in, and therefore should be aware if your future home is on a flood plain. Just pointing out the obvious.

*Chelsea Dagger - The Fratellis*

You know I've seen a lot of what the world can do and it's breaking my heart in two because I never wanna see you a sad girl don't be a bad girl

Have I mentioned what a trainwreck my personal life is? It never fails to amaze me that I can manage a very demanding career, successfully pay bills on time, have a social life, and raise my daughter singlehandedly - essentially in control (as much as anyone can be in control) of my life, and yet when it comes to making decisions about men I am about as intuitive as Pamela Anderson circa the whole Tommy Lee debacle. I have been trying to self-analyse lately, and get to the root of the problem, and I think I may have it... probably not, but what the hell, I'll test this theory. I think that I try too hard to portray the "independant woman" to everyone I meet, and insist that I need someone as independant as I am, but when it comes down to it, I am really a 1950's housewife at heart, and just want someone to make a martini for at the end of the day. Problem is, by telling everyone I don't want anything serious, I meet these guys who believe me, and are thrilled to have met a girl who isn't looking to "tie them down", and then when I get involved, and start picturing martini shakers and aprons, I realize that, once again, I have managed to meet the wrong guy.

Following me?

Didn't think so.

By trying so hard to be Wonder Woman (love the boots), I have effectively shot myself in the foot, because I'm not the tough-as-nails chick I have let everyone think I've been for the last 4 years, I'm the opposite. I'm insecure, afraid, and lately, very alone.

So now what?

Wonder Woman made it look so easy...

*Wild World - Cat Stevens*

Cause I'll be kicking the flavor that makes you wanna jump how high? Real high cause I'm just so fly

Whoops... Seem to have forgotten about this place for a bit. Ok, in the interest of getting all caught up in the least word-vomity way, here's a top 10 list of the highlights of the last 3 months so we can all move on...

1. Survived the holiday season working my 14th Christmas in retail. Barely.


2. Went to Cuba. Hated it, but loved the tan I came back with to make all my fellow Winnipeggers jealous with.


3. Got the happy news that I will be going to Cancun in June for work, hopefully getting the bad taste of Cuba out of my mouth.


4. Hooked up with my ex. Twice.


5. Immediately regretted said hookups.


6. Engaged in a lot of shopping to distract myself from aforementioned stupidity. Two words: Retail Therapy.


7. Dodged the late night booty texts from a retardedly hot 28-year-old who, in the past, has demonstrated his remarkable abilities in bed.


8. Am currently wondering why the hell I am dodging the late night booty texts from a retardedly hot 28-year-old who, in the past, has demonstrated his remarkable abilities in bed.


9. Am also shoe-shopping on line while composing this post.


10. Am thinking it's possible I may suffer from ADD.

There. All caught up. Now there's 5 minutes of your life you will never see again.

You're welcome.

*Jump - Kriss Kross*