December is coming

Okay Gwen, this blog is for you.

Last night I was the first friend to arrive at Amara's place for the annual Christmas Cookie exchange. I was determined not to be late this year.

This year I made Christmas Ribbon cookies, which were a bit of a hybrid of recipes. When my sister and I were kids my mom used to make (on rare occasion) Rainbow cookies which were coloured sugar cookies in the shape of rainbows. They were tasty, but a fair bit of work. I started off wanting to make just rainbow cookies, but after further research and brainstorming, they took on a more Christmas-like theme. A special touch is the maraschino cherry bits added to the red and green layers, and the almond flavouring added to the white layer.

From Random Winter 2008-09

I didn't win the contest. Not only do half a dozen of us get together to exchange cookies, there is also a contest to determine the best tasting cookie. The winner is decided by the husbands of the cookie bakers. The girls have no idea what kind of scientific process the boys use to determine the winner so I am not sure if I am at any slight disadvantage for not having a confederate judge on the team.

From Random Winter 2008-09

There was talk of switching things up for next year so that the guys have to do the baking and the girls do the judging. If that is the case I will now be screening all future dates for their cooking skills. Don't know your Bundt pan from a spring form one? Next!

It's 6:15 as I type this. Next week at this time I will be somewhere in New York with my New York Friend. Hopefully eating, because I imagine that I will be very hungry at that point after traveling since 8 a.m. New York Friend asked me on Monday night if I was getting excited for my trip. I laughed. He doesn't read my blog.

NYF is a well-travelled guy. I am not-so-much, but I am certainly not afraid of a little adventure. However, I really feel most at ease when I have explicit, step-by-step directions to follow. I was much too proud to ask NYF for help--how could he possibly understand my neurotic need for directions? So I was determined to just figure things out for myself. You can imagine then how relieved and overjoyed I was when he took it upon himself to e-mail me two pages worth of directions to get from the airport to his office downtown via bus and subway. I will study them this weekend and try to figure out what I am going to wear.
On my birthday.
In New York.
(nope, still not tired of saying that.)

They always look innoncent when they're sleeping

He's curled up on my love seat, snoring every once in a while. After following me around all night he's finally worn himself out.

It's been a long day with Schmoe. It's been a long week. He didn't ask for breakfast this morning. I don't think he was feeling very well.

I had to leave him behind this morning when I went out for some groceries. I had to yell at him to step away from the door and get back into the kitchen. With dogs you have to sound like you're barking at them so they get the message. He put his tail between his legs and cowered. I felt awful. As I walked to my garage I could still hear him scratching frantically at the door, crying, "what did I do to make you leave me?"

Even though I continue to abandon him and scorn him for following me around like the proverbial lost pup, he's always so happy when I come home again. He greets me at the door and makes a happy noise. When I take him out for a walk he scampers along, his tail waving like a little white sail. He is a 30-pound bundle of unconditional love.

This summer I thought seriously about getting myself a dog. I love dogs and I thought it would be good company. My friend, not really a dog person, thought it would be a cramp in my lifestyle.

"You'd never be able to go away," she said.

"I don't go away now."

"You'd always have to come home right after work."

"I always come home right after work."

This is all true. But it's not enough.

I realize now that I don't think I want a dog by myself. I can't do it alone. I can't be that unselfish all the time; I need to share that duty with someone. Having a dog is what I imagine to be what having a two-year-old is like. He loves you to pieces, and you love him, but he needs you, and he gets very upset and scared if you leave him. And when he's sleeping, he looks cute enough to make you forget how crazy he can drive you.

Winnipeg MB does not equal Scranton PA!

Last week there was a buzz in town about Winnipeg being featured on The Office. I don't usually watch the show, but I had to tune in to see how my home town was being represented. It was kind of a letdown, to be honest. While we didn't end up sounding like a backwoods small town, they may as well have been talking about a generic place called Springfield, because there was definitely no Winnipeg infused into the episode. Apparently there were some Old Dutch potato chips in the bar scene, and they made reference to a number 17 bus, and St. James Place. It was supposed to be November but no one was wearing winter coats, not even a scarf.

Tonight I was watching The Hour (I think it was a repeat) and Winnipeg was all over it. References that my boyfriend, George Stroumboulopoulos, dropped include Neil Young, Izzy Asper, Tom Cochrane, and then, they even dedicated The List to my heartwarming little city. So if you were left feeling a little let down by The Office, check out The List. I tried to find the entire episode online but had to give up. Serena Ryder was also on, and although she didn't mention The Peg, she was also a good interview.

"What did I just do?" she asked.

I got a phone call today that, I believe, changed my life. I was given an opportunity and asked to make a decision on the spot. After I made my decision, I texted Lisa to ask her if I was crazy.

(Side note, you may see me refering to "texting" with more frequency now since I just joined the new millennium and signed up for unlimited text messaging. Since I will be spending my birthday in the far off land of New York City, I wanted to be sure I had a fiscally responsibly way to communicate with my peeps back home. Assuming of course that I manage to remember to carry my phone and keep it charged. You know how I am with these things.)

Lisa, who is away in Victoria for the next three weeks, told me I was not crazy. Still, the moment kind of gave me a chill. I thought about some of the other decisions I've made recently that involved choosing one path over another. Geeze, I've agonized longer about buying a pair of shoes than I have about some of the major decisions I've made lately. I'm not crazy, I'm plain ridiculous.

Adventures in dog-sitting

My parents hit the road on Friday for a 10 day trip across the prairies to Nakusp B.C. This means that I get to babysit Elmo.

He let me sleep in on Saturday morning. Usually he gets mom and dad up any time between 6 a.m. and 8:30. I heard him get up at 8:30, walk around, and then come back to his spot beside my bed. What a good little dog.

I was out and about for a good part of Saturday, but made sure I got him outside before I went to bed. However, at 3:40 in the morning I heard him scratching at the door to go out. I pretended I didn't hear him. Then he came to my bedroom door and whimpered.

At my mom's and dad's, when the dog has to go outside you simply open the back door and let him into the back yard. When he is finished out there, he will scratch on the door to tell you he wants back in. My house is not set up for this. My back door opens to the driveway and the gated yard is several feet to the left. He may be older now, but he's still a beagle, which means he will follow his nose if it picks up on a bunny or a cat trail, and follow it wherever it goes. So when Elmo wants to go outside in the middle of the night, I have to put his collar on, put on shoes and a jacket, and guide him to the back yard. Then I have to stand there and wait for him to do whatever needs doing, and then guide him back into the house.

So out I went at nearly four a.m., in my penguin flannel pajamas, boots, and down jacket. He did not pee or poop. Like a little spotted cow he ate grass along the side of my house. I used the time to send my dad a text message, updating him on my charge. Ten minutes later we were back inside.

Dogs often eat grass when they have an upset stomach and want to rid of what's bothering them. Elmo did not rid of anything, but back inside his stomach did gurgle a bit. I fell back to sleep eventually and so did he.

When we got up, I took him outside before fixing our respective breakfasts. He wolfed down his lamb stew first and then I sat down to my Sunday morning pancakes. He scratched at the door.

"Elmo, you were just out. We can go out again after I'm finished eating."

"Scratch scratch. Whimper."

I continued eating. Then I heard a sound. I won't describe the sound because it was gross. I went to the back door and confirmed my fear: Elmo had yakked up his breakfast (thankfully missing my shoes by inches).

I don't know what's up with him tonight but he's following me around every time I move. I'm glad I have him around today for company though. Geeze, I sound like a crazy old cat lady. All I have is one temporary dog!

This is my brain on sugar and cheap white wine.

I had a weird dream last night. I was still 26-years-old but in public school. My best friend (from 20 years ago) had to go to the hospital to see her dad because he was getting a lung transplant. She needed me to direct her there. As dreams sometimes go, the setting changed and all of a sudden we were in a classroom. But the classroom was in a shopping mall (with a cinnamon bun place next door that smelled so delicious).

Here's where it gets weird: Stephen Harper was the principal. And he was holding my class in detention. And he was going on about respecting people and I wasn't really paying attention but then he singled me out and asked me to basically repeat what he had just said. I mumbled something. Somehow my friend and I got out of there.

At the beginning of the dream I just had to get her to the Victoria General Hospital, but then it ended up that we had to take a single engine plane to like, South America. And we talked to a weird travel agent who had a sample station of hand creams. I tried a green one called "Love".

And then I woke up.

I would guess that there is a mish-mash of possible interpretations here. I don't know why my old best friend and her dad came to mind, except that she did live next door and I was at my parents' place yesterday, where I was baking (not cinnamon buns, mind you).

The Stephen Harper cameo is really weird. Apparently I am very unhappy with him and his policies on healthcare and I generally find him irrelevant, yet I feel like I should be able to regurgitate what he says when called upon, and perhaps I am embarrassed by the fact that I don't pay much attention to political leaders. In fact, I'd rather be shopping.

The travel agent? I watched Amazing Race last night with my family. The green lotion? I'm not sure, but love is a pretty constant thought in my head. Usually I think of it right before bed, which is when I put hand cream on. In my room with one green wall.

Yes, I am one of those people who does remember her dreams. I find they are most vivid when I've had sugar before bed. I was eating cookies almost all day yesterday. And I had wine with dinner.

I told Nigel about my dream today and he sent me this picture:

I anticipate nightmares tonight.

Transitioning

I woke up this morning in a snow globe. I knew this was coming. We had a gorgeous weekend with record breaking temperatures, but a Colorado low moved in later this week--hello, winter.

From Random Winter 2008-09

I had cut the last two blooms from my rose bush two weeks ago. Tonight the last petals dropped from the stem.

From Random Winter 2008-09

All the news stations are telling Winnipeggers to stay off the roads tonight, they are treacherous. Not much else to do but tuck my feet up under me and stick my nose in a book. The snow makes everything go quiet.

From Random Winter 2008-09

Summer and fall are just warm memories. Old friends I will see again soon.

From San Francisco July 1-6

If you need an excuse to go out and get drunk...

I realize you at home are all keeping track of the days left before I fly away to New York, so I really don't need to point out here that I will be departing one month from this date. Additionally, it is also my New York friend's birthday today, so it's really just a special day all around.

Adding to the specialness, someone at the office brought in leftover Halloween treats today. More specifically, they brought in small bags of Old Dutch potato chips. I grabbed a bag of the sour cream and onion ones. As I was eating them, I happened to notice the best before date. Look carefully:




That's right, it's a bag of birthday chips! I can now cross off "eat 32 grams of sour cream and onion Old Dutch potato chips before turning 27" from my to-do list. Whoo!

Debriefing part II

I almost forgot, until this morning, that there is more to add to this story. Nothing scandalous this time though.

So Dan the Student Masseuse warned me that I might be a little bit sore the next day, but it would go away. A little bit sore? A LITTLE BIT SORE? Does "a little bit sore" account for bruises? I had 'em. Does it also mean that when I go to take a shower the next morning I won't be able to stand under the water because the usually soft, raindrop-like sprinkle would feel like I was being pelted by a paintball gun? All I did was exchange one form of pain for another. I was understandably miffed at this, but took solace in knowing that I would only be on the hook for 10 of the 50 dollars they charge for this medieval form of torture.

Solace vanished this morning when I got my claim form statement back.

My so-called benefits plan (which I pay into but never used, until now) covers the first $40 of each session up to a maximum of $400 in the plan year. I knew that. What I was not counting on was the (one-time) $40 deductible assessed, which means that I do have to pay the full $50 for those 45 minutes of deep tissue mangling.

Do you know what $50 can buy in New York?! I don't! But I am sure whatever it is, it is more enjoyable and indulgent than what I got. Why don't my benefits cover retail therapy huh?

Now that I have ruffled my feathers I feel my shoulder tightening up again.

I remember when I was a kid and I would complain to my dad about a sore knee or arm or toe. His response was the always helpful and affectionate, "well we'll just cut it off. It can't hurt anymore if it's not there."

I shall think of my wise father's words next time I start wining about some mildly inconvenient pain, because this therapy business is literally a pain in the neck.

Shorts

There have not been any shareable stories lately, but I'd like to move on past my "debriefing", so here are some shorts from this weekend.

Friday night was Halloween. It was also a gorgeous day in the Peg city. As soon as I got home, I changed into jeans and headed out for a walk. I stopped at Sergeant Sundae for a Pumpkin Pie soft ice cream cone. It was worth every penny of the mere $1.95 I paid for it. I managed to make additional stops at Blockbuster and the library before returning home with enough time to carve my pumpkin before sunset. Here is a picture of said pumpkin:



My first trick or treater of the night was a half-pint dressed as Tigger. I almost missed him because I didn't hear him say "Trick or treat!" and he went to my side door instead of my front door, where I was anticipating the little goblins. I wish it wasn't weird to take pictures of the little kids, because I totally would have taken some. The other memorable cute kid was a little girl dressed as a lion. She came with her brother and after I doled out the candy, she just stood there on my step, looking up at me with her big, sad eyes. I don't know, maybe she had a thorn in her paw? Her brother had a light saber and nearly took my eye out with it. I had 12 kids in total, which leaves a lot of Reese's Peanut Butter Cups for me to do something with.

Saturday was another beautiful day, so I went for a run in the park. I was super glad I got in some exercise that day because later I went to Lisa's place where we made up a plate of nachos, complete with home-made guacamole and salsa. As Lisa said, it was probably the best plate of nachos we'd had in the city yet. I had to admit that I missed the loud bar crowd that usually goes with the dish.

Sunday--another beautiful day and so, another run. Later, cookie baking and house cleaning. I quite enjoyed the time change right up until 4:30 pm when I realized the sun was started to go down. Seriously? It's going to be dark by five now? That just bites.

I put the pumpkin in my fridge at the end of Friday night. I have good intentions to roast and puree it, as I did last year. Right now though it just makes me laugh to see this cute face smiling up at me every time I open the door.