You're right, Therese: the pressure is building!

Gah- ok... this is the SECOND time I've written this post... since it's Monday morning and I stupidly forgot to save the first one. grumblegrumblegrumble.

I have not posted in four (count them) FOUR days. This is just unacceptable to me. And just as my faithful blog guru informed me it would be when I began the obsession that is blogging, the pressure to produce witty and interesting posts on a daily basis is intense. ESPECIALLY when real life has the audacity to become so all-consuming as to interfere with my ability to relate its events to all of you, my faithful readers. But now it's Monday, and I'm back at the office, so what better time to catch up on lost posting-time?

For me and Tobin, it was a weekend of apartment-putting-together madness. This included:
- not one, but TWO weekend trips to the mall (for the hilarious details of our Saturday afternoon- what the hell were we thinking?!?!?!- trip to Wal-Mart, see Tobin's blog);
- various run-ins with my trusty hammer (both good and bad, painful and harmless);
- one broken picture frame;
- one collapsing bookshelf;
- several calls to the Linksys and Aliant 1-800 numbers (why do routers NEVER do what they're supposed to without at least one call to tech support?);
- the intervention of my fantabulous father and his trusty hack saw;
- an introduction to our new neighbour, Pedro;
- the application of several hundred magnetic words to our washing machine;
- one ginormous crate of microwave popcorn;
- and a partridge in a pear tree.

Sunday became a day of attempting to relax. I got to try out our new, but-in-actuality-really-old-and-clawed-foot tub (which is really worth the cost of rent all on its own, in my opinion), AND we went to yoga. Oh how I love yoga!! Wonderful, calming yoga! (even if I do stand an EXCELLENT chance of looking ridiculous and doing a face plant into the hardwood floor...) So by Sunday evening, Tobin and I were quite mellow. This is a good thing, since, had we not been so mellow, our new blinds would have surely ended up going through one of the windows they were meant to be covering...

Ahhhhhh... dontcha just LOVE new apartments?

But really, for all the complaining I do, I DO love our apartment. And once we have found a home for everything, it will be a truly stellar place to be. It's on the horizon... no, really!... it IS coming.

Finding order in the chaos???

SO.

It has been a few days since I've posted, and for good reason. Yesterday was the big day... that's right: MOVING DAY. I started at 6 am and, with the help of Tobin (read: ROOMIE!!!), Meagan, and my parents (for a bit), I managed to have everything out of the old place, into the new, and the old place spic and span by 4 pm... not too bad if I do say so myself. That left just enough time to set up my bed (don't you hate coming home dead-tired at 11pm and having to put your bed together?? Not good.), go teach, help Tobin move her stuff in, and then unwind with the help Meagan's FANTABULOUS martinis (just make sure the cover is on the shaker, Muffin. Hehehehehehe.)

In discussing this momentous task with people (for whatever reason... what?), Tobin and I have both run into the same reaction. When we answer people's questions as to who helped us move all our stuff, there is almost universal surprise that there were very few men involved in the process. This is very annoying to me for a number of reasons. First of all, I am more able to move heavy objects than most of the men I am acquainted with (and beat several of them in an arm wrestle taboot). Secondly, they say this AFTER I've mentioned that my Dad helped out- I am indignant on his behalf. And finally (and most importantly) it is the implication that it is necessary to have a man help a woman move. I mean, COME ON!

Do these people actually mean to suggest that women are not capable of hauling heavy objects to and fro? I offer yesterday's splendidly smooth move as incontrovertible evidence that they certainly are. So there.

ps- I feel it necessary to make a quick comment on the election:

I, like most of you, was most displeased (yet, sadly, not surprised) with the triumph of the Tories on Monday evening. That said, I comfort myself by repeating the following mantra:

They've got a minority: They won't be able to do shit. They've got a minority: They won't be able to do shit. They've got a minority: They won't be able to do shit.

Try it out... see if it helps.

By Jove! I think I've got it!

In the spirit of election day, and as a political scientist (granted one that doesn't put much stock in the legitimacy of parliamentary 'democracy'...), I felt a little dose of electoral humour was in order.

So here it is: Does anyone else see the resemblance between our soon-to-be (please oh please let me be wrong about this...) psycho Prime Minister and Sponge Bob Square Pants?? Or is this just the lack of sleep talking? I always knew there was something about Stephen Harper, besides his politics, that made me uncomfortable... hmmmmmmmm...

Now I'll be the first to admit that I know almost nothing about Sponge Bob, not being a big fan and all, but I can't help but feel that this resemblance is wholly unfair to the poor little cartoon. Please don't hold it against Sponge Bob.

Moving and multi-tasking...

So I have to move in a few days... I hate moving. Hate it. Such a huge pain in the ass. The actual act of moving, that is. That, in addition to the fact that I really have NO time to pack is creating some stress right now.

Don't get me wrong- I'm extremely excited to move, etc, but you all know what it's like- I can't quite figure out where to start with packing up all my belongings... and I'm not even moving that far! (well, just far enough to warrant packing things into boxes)...

Thus I find myself multi-tasking like a madwoman today. In the hopes that I'll actually get something accomplished on several fronts, I've broken my morning up like this: 20 minutes devoted to packing, then 20 minutes to lesson plans... then 20 minutes to trying to figure out how to edit this damn collage properly (... it's diving me nuts 'cause I can't seem to figure out how to do it). Somewhere in there I'll eat... and then it's off to yoga class (soooo looking forward to that) and then to Mom and Dad's for dinner. Shit! and then to a wee party. Forgot about that...

Ok- so why am I taking the time to blog today? You've got me there. I'm out.

Tag, you're it! (Tagged by Gilly)

Four Jobs You've Had In Your Life:
1. Gas Attendant/Cashier
2. Research Assistant
3. Awards Officer
4. Babysitter

Four Movies you Could Watch Over and Over Again:
1. Gosford Park
2. The Thomas Crown Affair (remake)
3. Under the Tuscan Sun
4. Roman Holiday

Four Places You've Lived:
1. England.
2. Dartmouth, NS.
3. Bathurst, NB.
4. Cornwall, ON.

Four TV Shows You Love to Watch:
hmmmmmm... I haven't had cable in two years, so work with me here...
1. Without a Trace
2. Grey's Anatomy
3. F1 races (what?! they're on TV!)
4. Gilmore Girls!!!

Four Places You've Been On Vacation:
1. Greece
2. Vancouver
3. T-dot.
4. Switzerland

Four Blogs You Visit Daily:
1. The Origin of Shoeism
2. fragments of my life...or something less abstract
3. The Everyday Happenings of Grum
4. I Heart Gilly

Four of Your Favorite Foods:
1. Cheese
2. Bananas
3. Coffee
4. Eggs

Four Places You'd Rather Be:
1. England.
2. Vancouver.
3. moved into my NEW apartment.
4. Belize.

Four Vehicles You've Owned:
ok... I'm gonna subsitute 'driven' for owned since I've never actually owned a car...
1. '92(?) Grey Volkswagen Passat. SQUEAKY brakes...
2. '97(?) Green Subaru Legacy Wagon.
3. '90 Brown Subaru Legacy Sedan. Oh how I loved thee... rust spots and all.
4. '87 Mazda Rx7. Ok... so it was my Dad's baby... but I got to drive it. Once.

Four People to Be Tagged:
1. Grum!
2. Shannon
3. Sara
4. Meagan (yes this means you have to build your own BLOG!)

death by bagel

Ok... so when the typically ever-so-slightly-bitchy woman who works at your favorite little coffee nook gives you an oh-so-out-of-character grin and tells you to be sure to enjoy the bagel she's just toasted and smothered in cream cheese for you, how do you react? Do you just figure that she really is in a good mood for a change? (at 7:45 in the morning...) Or do you immediately question the contents of your highly anticipated bagel? And if your response is the latter, do you immediately bid a teary-eyed farwell to said breakfast? Or do you suck it up and chance whatever horrid fate awaits you upon consumption? I gotta say, that I totally went the suspicious route... she was just waaaay too cheery. It freaked me out. That said, I couldn't quite bring myself to throw out my precious sesame-seed-ecrusted sphere of goodness. So I'm currently awaiting the onset of some horrid case of food poisoning or Hepatitis or something of that nature. I'll let you know how it goes.

The List

It has been a day of lists... mainly to-do lists... but also some what-do-I-want-in-a-partner lists.

I like lists... I use them ALL the time. So I'm going to do something I've been meaning to do for a while and create my Life's To Do List. (hahahhahahhaha! I just said 'to do' three times in one sentence!)

(The what-do-I-want-in-a-partner lists don't really suit me 'cause my only stipulation in partner selection is that I want someone that fits. If someone fits, and both parties are willing, then the rest can be worked out. I have no idea what criteria would be required for someone to fit: every guy I've ever dated (which isn't really that many) has caught me by surprise. All I can say is that I know it when I see it. That, and I'm certain that chopping livestock will NEVER fit.)

When I come to the end of my life, the things listed below (in no particular order) are the things I think I will regret not having done, unless, of course, I've already done them ;)

1- Visit Africa. Several times, and different regions if possible.

2- Become a good parent.

3- Fall madly and uncategorically in love with someone who loves me the same way.

4- Live in the UK. Again. At least for a little while.

5- Learn to speak AT LEAST three languages well. (empahsis on well)

6- Open a women's crisis and counselling centre.

7- Sip fresh espresso and munch a delicious something-or-other on the balcony of my hotel/apartment, which will overlook some fabulous scene in any one of many fabulous European cities/towns.

8- Learn how to pot.

9- Visit Scandanavia. I've always wanted to go to Copenhagen...

10- Own a really fantastic car. Even if it's only for a little while. Standard transmission.
11- Watch the Monaco Grand Prix live.
12- Read or re-read (and understand) the following texts: Hegel, Plato's Dialogues, Aristotle, The Second Sex, Herodotus, Lukacs, all 50 volumes of Marx, all 50 volumes of Lenin, all of Trotsky, the rest of TW's "top ten" list (if he ever tells us all of them...)... I'm sure more will be added to this at a later date...
13- Have a pet dog.
14- Have a REAL vegetable patch... one that actually produces edible food.
15- Learn how to take really great photos.
16- Find some form of work-out that doesn't annoy the crap out of me and stick with it.
17- Learn how to defend myself effectively.
18- Become a really cool grandparent.
19- Climb a mountain.
20- Visit Iceland.
21- Learn how to drive a motorcycle.
22- Sing in public. At least once. And I mean actually perform.
23- Never take the constants in my life, ie my family and friends, for granted. Never.
24- Learn how to live alone as well as how to live as one half of a couple. I suspect that each of these is equally difficult to learn, but in different ways.
25- Drive all the way along the Pacific Coast (ok... well at least from Vancouver to some point in Mexico).
26- Never stop fighting for what is right and true.
27- Appreciate the little things as much, if not more than, the big.

Ok- that's it for now! I'm sure I'll have more to add later ;)

Wish I was there...

Need I really say more? This pic was taken by my uncle Kev, the adventurer, on his latest trip through Thailand and Laos. The location is either Phuket, Bangkok, or Kachanaburri... although I'm thinking maybe Phuket(?) Anyway, it doesn't really matter... it's beautiful, and it looks warm and uncomplicated (although I'm well aware that images are often quite deceiving...) I just imagine myself away from this freakish snow/rain/icy weather and sitting where the woman in the picture is sitting (lucky, lucky woman!), doing EXACTLY what she's doing...

Come on! I know most of you are thinking the same thing!! Can you smell the tortillas, Tobin? I can.

Like Phoebe, it appears that I too have lost time...

To start, let me just say that, due to a random bureaucratic deadline, I have spent most of my life being the oldest person in my group of friends. Thus, I am used to it, and really not all that sensitive about my age, or aging for that matter- I LIKE the fact that I have a shock of grey/white hair developing around my face... But the prospect of losing two years is disturbing to me in a very real way, even if the loss is strictly abstract. Here's the story:

For those of you who do not already know this, I have recently begun teaching English as a Second Language (ESL) to a Korean family that has moved into the house across the street from that of my parents. My students are really great- very hard workers, and VERY determined to learn- and I'm really enjoying teaching them (much to my, very pleasant, surprise). In return, they are teaching me about Korean culture and language, which is absolutely fascinating.

For instance, every Thursday is Korean food night: After our english lesson, I am unfailingly served with a new and wonderful Korean dish. The children and mother all watch expectantly as I take my first bite... half expecting me to cry out for WATER!!! because I can't take the heat, and then erupting into peals of delighted laughter when I just grin and say, "YUM!" They were also very impressed with my chopstick skills... no fork for this white woman... oh no... I'm no wuss!

I'm also trying to learn the Korean alphabet right now... it's going VERY slowly... but I've learned how to spell my name... (it translates to Jenniper because there is no 'f' sound in the Korean language). Anyway, back to the story...

Last night, as part of a vocabulary exercise, we were discussing age and birthdays. In Korea, age is measured on a twelve-year cycle, and each year bears the name of an animal: Year of the Sheep, Year of the Dog, Year of the Monkey, Rooster, Snake, etc... So I was asking my students to tell me which year they were and what that meant. I then asked them what year I would be? After asking my age, and then my birthday and year, and then performing several calculations, it was determined that I was Year of the Sheep... and that in Korea, I am, in fact TWO YEARS OLDER than I am in Canada. Something to do with the way age is measured- from year to year, rather than birthday to birthday... I'm not sure... we got a little lost in translation at this point, and I shall have to research it further... But the fact remains that in Korea, I am 28 years old. I've just lost two whole years.

So what's the big deal? Do I really care about being older? No. As stated above, I don't. The problem is this- I am not currently in a place where I'm altogether happy with the rate of my progression through life... and I'm hoping to make up for that by the time I'm 30... the prospect of suddenly having two years less in which to do all this is distrubing, to say the least.

I know it's an abstract difference, and that the number of days I've been on this planet have not changed a smidge, but the socialization around where we should be at certain points in our lives is rearing its ugly head, and I've (temporarily) fallen hook, line, and sinker.

Whew! That was good...

Now that I've purged these anxieties from my system, I shall sit back and wait for my old friends perspective, rationale, and logic to return to the scene...

This Old House...

* Note: this post was inspired by the comments posted by Jules on the subject of Colby Kids (WE ROCK!) and the old house at 7:18 am on Monday, January 16, 2006.

So here is the old place... my childhood home. We lived there from the time I was 2 years old until I was 8. Except, when I lived there it was a run-of-the-mill grey with HUGE rhodedendron and lilac bushes right in between the two front windows, and a hedge along the driveway. Can you picture it? Difficult to do, I realise, what with the rather distracting fact that it is now DAY-GLO-PURPLE... hahahahahahah! (I know it looks blue, but it really is purple... bright bright purple... Jules is right, we DO need shades...) Colby Drive is turning into Jelly Bean Row!!! (please note that three doors down is Jules' old place, which is still pink...)

Meagan and I took this shot when we were back in the neighbourhood in June. We had to drive by twice to be sure that, yes indeed, this really WAS 199 Colby Drive... then we stood there on the sidewalk, snapped a few shots, and just stared... until we realised that we probably looked pretty suspicious standing there with cameras, beside a car with out-of-town plates. So we mosied on to visit other haunts, and to marvel at how small the whole neighbourhood seemed now that we were viewing it through adult eyes.

You know how, when you've just had one of THOSE days, you sometimes wish you could be back in kindergarten? The time when life was so simple and uncomplicated that any crisis was instantaneously averted by a word or two from Mom and Dad? And kisses could ACTUALLY cure pain? Yeah- that's Colby. In my head, Colby Drive is a place of innocent discovery... it is childhood. So I'm really glad that the house has changed so much- leaves the old 199 Colby Drive unsullied in my mind. Plus the new owners have built a really nice front porch and added a trellis to the deck that my Dad built when I was seven. I wonder if the old maple is still good for climbing?? And do the cherries from the tree out back still make the BEST cherry pie in the universe? I'm sure they do. And always will.  

Deleted?!

What's worse than being yelled at for something that you didn't do first thing in the morning? Being yelled at for something you didn't do AND being unable to log into your computer first thing in the morning, that's what!

The gods were allied against me this morning: no serene morning ritual for Jenn today! Oh no... I just HAD to pick up the phone didn't I? Geez, I hate it when I do that!

Anyway, after replacing the phone on the hook and putting my other slipper on (that's right- I wear slippers at the office...), I sat down to log into my computer and start the day only to be told that I wasn't allowed in!!

GAH!

I was (and still am) absolutely certain that I had entered my password correctly, although having just changed it last week, I decided to try every combination of old passwords that came to mind...

...just in case...

... no go...

So a quick call was placed to the Helpdesk (which is usually very helpful) , and here begins our tale...

After determining that I could not, in fact, log into my computer using any form of my login ID, the helpful guy at the helpdesk (hereafter known as HGAH) instructed me to try to log into my eServices on another computer, since the passwords are syncronized. I followed his instructions, and was unsuccessful. So at this point, it appears to the whole world that Jenn is just a dolt who has forgotten her password... (but I was SO SURE!) so HGAH begins a lecture-style rant on how "we all must be very careful not to forget our passwords..."
Now, I understand that resetting a system for something as simple as a forgotten password is a HUGE pain in the ass, but given all the security precautions they make us take nowadays (under absolutely NO circumstances are we to write our passwords down; the system does not allow you to reuse elements from past passwords, etc.), how can a body help but forget the damn thing?? Especially when it's only been reset a week prior?!?!

That said, I still maintain that I was entering the CORRECT password... that's my story, and I'm stickin' to it.

But I digress... so here we are, HGAH and I, on the phone. He thinks I'm an idiot now, I just know he does. And that's ok... so long as he can get me into my computer... I NEED my computer!!! If I don't have it, I might as well go home for the day!

heeeeyyyyy... wait a minute...

*shakes head*

No! Too much work to do! Must have operational computer!!

At this point, HGAH thinks he's found a back door: just find my user ID on the system and reset from there. So he takes me through said backdoor only to find that my user ID isn't there... I've been... DELETED!!!

!!!!!PANIC!!!!!

Thus HGAH calmly tells me this is too complex to do over the phone and that I will have to defer to the Level 1 in my building. Great.

So I spent the morning trying to find stuff to file and waiting for our Level 1 to visit me. All the while sending longing glances at the now-useless hunk of metal on my desk... my tunes! my email! I can't hack it! I MUST be connected!!!

It is at this point that the thought that I might just be a leeeettle bit dependant on my Baby, I mean, my computer, flits through my mind...

Nahhhhhhh.

To make an already long story a bit shorter, Beloved Level 1 Guy shows up mid-morning and has everything fixed in a jiffy (that's right. I said jiffy). I adore Level 1 Guy. He is my hero. This one's for you Level 1 Guy!

*ahem*

'Turns out that I had NOT been deleted at all- my user ID was just 'hiding'... so we found it... but my password still wouldn't work. So we reset that, and all was well.

They all think I'm an idiot now... I'm probably on the idiot list down at the Helpdesk by this point. Oh well. The damage is done...

I still- and will to my dying day- maintain that the password I put in was the correct one. The system just ate my password. That's all there is to it.

Speaking of eating things... Morty has struck again. MORTY! WHAT did I tell you about taking the unblemished socks??!!

more money than brains...

Monday- a new work week has commenced, and with it winter has reared it's ugly head... again. I arrived at the office promptly at 8:20 am (thanks again for the transport, Tobin!) to find that I am the first person here... excuse me?? The door is locked and all is dark. This is unheard of- most of my workmates are usually in the office by 7:50 at the latest, and tease me relentlessly for being so late...

So after determining that it was, in fact, Monday, that the University was, in fact, open, and that I was NOT missing some form of staff meeting, I settled into my little cubby to commune with my coffee, bagel, and early morning email.

~pause while Jenn cleans up the hot chocolate she has just spilled over her ENTIRE desk~

*sigh*

So where was I? Oh yes- early morning email. This is my ritual... I enter the office, get settled, and then ignore everyone and everything while I check my email and eat my breakfast. I don't even turn my music on... just enjoy the quiet before the day goes to hell and my phone starts ringing...

One of the usual emails is the daily staff newsletter- the 'eDaily'. Today's edition included a reminder that there is still time to sign up for this semester's "Personal and Cultural Enrichment Courses". Goody! These usually look really interesting to me- stuff like photography classes, or conversational Spanish. So I scroll down to check it out, and this is what I find (among other things):

The Journey Inward - Wellness and Journaling
($200 +HST)

Improving your Memory
($125 +HST)

The Journey Inward??? Ok- I'm all for journaling, in fact, I quite enjoy it (hence the blog), but who's gonna pay $200 (+ HST) to learn how??? Better yet, who's got $200 (+HST) to spare for something like a Wellness and Journaling class??? Really???

Hence the comment, more money than brains.

Same with paying $125 to take a class in improving your memory... although I DO know a few people (not naming names... you know who you are) who might benefit from this... but for $125?? PLUS HST?!?!

I dunno, maybe it's just a side-effect from the fact that my impoverished student days have now carried over into a no-longer-a-student-but-still-paying-for-the- impoverished- student-days existence, but I just find the idea of paying that much money for something like that so ridiculous I can't stop laughing... and haven't been able to all day...

ps- no offence to anyone who happens to be signed up for either of these courses... good luck with the whole journal journey, and- oh yeah!- improving that memory...

Sock Goblins Have EATEN My Socks!!!

Does anybody else have a sock goblin in their laundry room?? You know- the tiny creatures that slink into the room and steal just ONE of a pair of your socks when you're not looking... I'm sure they exist. They must! How else can the absence of my left sock be explained?? I've searched everywhere, and it is nowhere. It has ceased to exist. But how is this possible? I had two socks- I must have- how else would the one sock have gotten dirty?? I'm not in the habit of wearing only one sock at a time, thus there must have been two in the clothes bin at one point... and then there was only one.

I'm telling you- it's the Sock Goblins! I believe that they use the socks to line their dens (which are extremely difficult to find but exist in various nooks and crannies throughout any home), and also, when prepared properly, as food...

I think I will name my sock goblin Morty. I don't know if it is male or female, but Morty seems to fit. It better be enjoying my sock, dammit. It was a good sock- no holes or anything. Gah!

Note to Morty the Sock Goblin- please restrict your sock-plundering activities to the HOLEY and THREADBARE socks... they still taste good (better in many cases, as they are nicely aged) and will still provide ample warmth.

I can part with THOSE socks... I really don't mind. I may even willingly sacrifice them...

Would you like half of my waffle??

The rain has now turned to freezing rain. Last night it was FIFTEEN DEGREES CELSIUS... now it's getting cold again... all the snow had melted, and now the ice is falling fast. It's plotting against me and my new "4-wheel drive for your feet" shoes, I just know it... what?? I'm not paranoid. I'm not. shut up. this weather is so fucked up.

Ok- so this morning I met Meagan for brunch at the Home of the Platonic Ideal of Breakfast, otherwise known as Cora's. This was an especially good idea since we both had christmas gift certificates to use, (so my platonic ideals were comparatively cheap this morning) and because we were both ever-so-slightly hungover after last night's EXCELLENT festivities...

But I digress. So, I met Meagan for brunch, and as we were enjoying our huge plates of yummy stuff, in walked a couple that I recognized from the Uni. They had impressed me the first time I saw them as the very definition of the word 'refined'. I'm not sure exactly why- sure they're well groomed, and very stylish; older too, but that's not it... I think really it's the way they carry themselves. Anyway, this couple was seated one table away from Meagan and me, and directly in my line of vision. Their order came in the form of two HUGE platters heaped high with whipped cream, fruit, and all things yummy- the typical Cora's fare... and I watched as they carefully divided each of their breakfasts in half and switched. Don't ask me why, but it struck me as such a sweet thing to do. I'm jealous of them.

Same thing happened the other day when I ran into my Mum and Dad at the bakery downtown... Mum was eating something that involved powdered sugar, and thus inevitably got it EVERYWHERE. As we were leaving, my Dad stopped her to sweep the remaining sugar off of her chin. It wasn't necessarily the action itself, but the way in which it was done. I am very envious of my parents' relationship... then again, anyone who knows my parents is envious of their relationship: They're so natural and comfortable in each other's company. It represents the kind of... what's the word... security? contentment? comfort? I hope to find someday, and am absolutely petrified will allude me. That said, I take a preverse satisfaction in the knowledge that I'm hardly alone in this boat. I'm such a weirdo...

ps- check out the new links, posted on the right: fast tracks to Strong Bad and Monty Python, and consequently hours and hours of hysterical laughter... 'cause laughter really is the best medicine...

Gah! My feet are gonna be soooo wet by the end of this...

Ok- It's Saturday morning- Market morning- and it's pouring... I'm talking monsoon. This, in conjunction with the fact that it's the middle of January means that a nice layer of extra-slippiness is currently being added to the already icy sidewalks, thereby turning them all into ICY PATHS of DEATH! The problem is this- the Market is seriously calling my name, but it's gonna be so wet and icy out there, I really don't want to brave it...

but... but... I REALLY want samosas! Mmmmmmm.... spicy triangles of goodness... And bagles! wonderful spheres of sesame- seed-encrusted goodness... And a sausage! And a HUGE skinny cappuccino! Dammit. There's nothing for it. I'll have to risk it...

~two hours later~

Ok... so the rain actually stopped, so I was only slightly sopping by the time I walked the three and a half blocks... (I hate not having a car.) And the icy paths of death were not quite so icy (with the exception of the occasional hidden patch - left there for the sole purpose of making sure I'm paying attention.) So all in all, not as bad as I thought it would be.

HOWEVER, I had not been at the Market long before I realized that I SHOULD NOT be allowed to be around people today.

The bagels were gone- no bagels for Jenn- *sniff*

This in itself is enough of a disappointment, but then I got stuck in the crazy (and for some reason VERY slow) samosa line behind two women with ~sixteen rowdy kids between the two of them (alright, a slight exaggeration, but on a pre- caffeination Saturday morning, six kids seems like sixteen...) and all I can do is stand there getting more and more annoyed because I just KNOW that by the time I get my samosas, all the Bratwurst are going to be gone from the sausage place...

I know it's my own fault for going so late, but that only serves to increase my annoyance...

So I finally get the spicy triangles of goodness... manage to circumvent the gaggle of rowdy kids, and gain the freedom of the outdoors, hot on the trail of a yummy, delicious, oh-so-satisfying sausage...

I get in line behind this group of extremely over-hung Uni students who seem to be straddling the two lines... and just as the man in front of me is paying for his food, this guy appears out of nowhere and butts in front of me... he must have been lying in wait... and to top it all off, he seems to know the sausage lady, and thus strikes up a conversation! GAH!!!!

"It's fine," I say to myself, trying to hold back the sudden urge to scream, "you're next... it's OK..."

All I can say is he's bloody lucky he didn't take the last Bratwurst. He would have regretted that. Oh yes... yes he would have. But he didn't take the last one... so I was able to purchase my sausage with german mustard for two dollars and fifty cents, and with it, the feeling of contentment as I walked towards Brunswick Street and left the crazy and annoying market crowd behind...

That in combination with the all-that-I-hoped-it-would-be Grande Skinny Cappuccino, the company of my soon-to-be roomie, and a visit to our new, SPECTACULAR apartment, has brought me back to a pleasant sort of neutral place. My blood pressure has been restored to normal levels... but that said, I think I should avoid unneccessary contact with humans today. Just to be safe...

In The Beginning...

Hello all! Welcome to my blog!! I am unsure as yet what form this is all going to take, so stay tuned for what I'm sure will be the fun and amazing changes to come!!!