Mitchell says I don't blog enough, and since last night proved that I do whatever he tells me, here's a blog.

All my bags are packed; I'm ready to go.

Sarah is covering me, sort of, while I'm gone. This means I will no longer have to listen to my boss mumble under her breath. She does this all the time, talk to herself. I have an inner monologue, but it's inner. As in "No one else hears what I am saying to myself in my head."

She doesn't seem to get this concept.

I'm in Vancouver this weekend, where I shall remain whisk-less but protected by the fact that I'll be in a high-rise. If I were to be in a horror movie, though, it would be on Saturday Night when I'm at a gala in high heels that look wildly inappropriate for day to day life. Picture this:

I hold a glass of wine in my hand, laughing softly at some joke one of my companions has just made and I'm ready to engage in our patented witty repartee when all of a sudden, the lights go out. "It's just a breaker," someone calls out. "They'll have it fixed in a moment."

It'll rain, because it always rains. There might be thunder and lightning but probably not. Eventually, someone will try to leave because the dark makes people of all ages uncomfortable, whether they admit it or not. That's when they'll find the doors locked.

Me? I'm still frozen with my wine glass halfway to my lips. That's when the first scream erupts from somewhere on the outskirts of the crowd.

See? Horror movie waiting to happen. I'll ditch the heels and run like hell to the nearest window. I don't want to have to be in a sequel.

I can't remember the last time a serial killer stalked a gala, though. Maybe I'll be okay.

To Do To Day:

1. Stop at the bank
2. Stop at Shoe Store
3. Pack last-minute articles
4. Give you hell?

Post after this detailing exactly what I've been watching/listing to lately.

"Money. Sex. Money. Money. Sex. Money. Cats."

Fuck, some people are twats.

Meghan, I'll tell you who tomorrow when we're having hangs, because what else do we do with our lives? Also, I have some of that faily eyelash glue still stuck to my eyelashes. That's just not fair.

Last night, pre-Twilight, post-ogling my hot-ass manager, Meghan and I came to the conclusion that we're roommates that live in different houses. For example. I will wander over to her place and go in and curl up on her bed while waiting for her to finish getting ready so we can go out and do the same thing we always do [Starbucks, smoke our faces off, and talk about Monoply/Life: The FBR edition]. Or we will go to Chapters and it's not even in question if she can use my employee discount. Basically, it rules.

I think I'm pretty much done with Facebook. It just annoys me now.

The plan this weekend is to be at home for as much of it as possible and rip the last of my CDs, get my paperwork all filed, and be ready for winter. I bought a turtleneck today and it itches like Gabe's crotch. But it looks cute, unlike Gabe's crotch, so I'm keeping it.

I work tonight and I'm so excited, now when they page a cashier to cash, I can actually answer the page.

This weekend:

• Laundry
• Put away CDs
• Finish The Rules of Attraction
• Clean room from top to bottom
• Clean bathroom
• Go through closet
• Put up TC prints, my walls are too bare
• Get my haircut? Maybe?

I also don't really know how I feel about this because, wow, I've wanted that forever. But. Wow. I don't want to think about that because that'll get my hopes up. I think what I'll just say is that I hope things work out for the best for everyone.

Go Team Hannah!

Today I started reading “Eats, Shoots and Leaves” by Lynne Truss. I'm hoping to become a more grammatical person. It already seems very dry and witty.

Work went well today. I found out last week that one of the co-workers I work closely with is moving to our US office. It's going to be an adjustment without Adam around but life is about adjustment. I went for a walk at noon today to get some pop from 7-11. It's nice to step outside and remember that you are more than just your awesome ability with HS codes and ability to sweet talk customs agents.  

I had a brief moment of self-doubt this afternoon and it felt really, really terrible. But I'm trying to work through things like that so I can be a better person so I sat down and repeated in my head “This is not because you're boring or uncool or unlikeable.” Of course, admitting that on a blog makes me boring, uncool, and unlikeable. But I don't really care, because this is for me. The people who read it just get the privilege of knowing me that much better after the fact. 

I went to The Rocket after work at got a really, reallllly sweet shirt printed. Remember Hannah? I know you guys all know who Hannah is and how she makes my days go a lot smoother with “HO NO!” ANYWAY, check this out:

I'd like everyone to meet the Captain of Team Hannah.

Sometimes being a girl sucks because words curve where you don't want them to.

99, because I knew it was some really awesome hockey player's number. Turns out it was Wayne Gretzky. Meet The Great One. 

Oh, she's just being Mindy. This is in bed, which is actually where 99% of my pictures are taken. I'm not perverted. Just lazy.

And now I'm going to go get a really good night's sleep. But I'll leave you with this picture:

$8.50. I won't even show you the other two I got for $4 each, you'll just die of jealousy. Well. Not over Terry Jacks, but over The Muppets and John Denver's Christmas Special.

Mitchell was right about green tea and using the bag twice. That sounds a little dirtier than it needed to, but whatever. I wish the rain would stop here. Sometimes I forget that spring is now the rainy season here. We used to have actual spring, now we just have grey skies. The first year I noticed it was when The Day After Tomorrow came out. That came out and then all of a sudden, Calgary just decided to rain and rain and rain. It worried me for the first month.

It no longer worries me.

I got the sweetest Christmas/Birthday present from Mitchell and I keep looking at it with glee. There's a store in Vancouver called Inform Interiors. Douglas Coupland did a limited edition SIGG water bottle for them, limited to 130, and then did a limited edition book of two short stories from Life After God, also limited to a 130. They were then sold in a set and Mitchell got them for me because he is basically the most awesome person in the world.

I've also been unable to stop laughing because of this girl named Hannah. Everything around her goes wrong and so we've basically turned her life into our inside joke. [Note: I'm not kidding, she just fails. She asked a large woman when her due date was.] Every few hours I get a text that says "HO NO! MY HOUSE ON FIRE >.< *POOPING NOISE*" ... Guess you had to be there.

Anyway, I need new shoes as I discovered dreadful holes in my current ones. See above for reasons that holy shoes don't really fly with me.

I keep looking over at my suitcases like they'll unpack themselves. Too bad they won't. I love how I can wear a pair of tights for a day and manage to punch so many holes in them.

Today was the AGM at work and I finally talked to someone about hooking up with Scott. It's kind of weird. Andrew came over and was all "How you doin'?" And Oliver just looked at me and told me that he hoped that wasn't some sort of message from Scott.

Busy busy busy at work and not loving it. I hate going away and coming back to find everything fucked right up. But I guess that happens when you do specific things every day. That makes no sense to anyone but me. I'm in charge of documentation for the international shipments of my company. I came back to find about eight shipments stuck in customs in various countries. Unfortunately, I can't do much about them because I'm not listed on any of the paperwork. Ugh. Office space.

I need a vacation to recover from my vacation.

Tomorrow night [actually tonight], I'm going for Starbucks with Meghan where we will discuss her New Favourite Band, ridiculous people, and our ridiculous lives. 

Ha. Sidekick, your jealousy is both obvious and annoying. I notice that when I did not take my Blackberry back, you ceased to work again. Don't think I don't know what it is you're up to. Because I know.

Does anyone know how to stop their mind from racing for hours at a time. I need to get more than five hours of uninterrupted sleep at a time. I'm starting to worry that my outsides are going to match my insides soon. I can't have that happening. Won't have it happening.

In more consumeristic news:



Can we please talk about how much I love horizontal stripes? Blah blah blah, unflattering but you know what? These hoodies are adorable. Kittens would be jealous. Speaking of kittens, I might get to see that sassy little kitten from last month.

I'm not holding my breath for my own sake, here.

Oh. My. God.



Yes. So much yes. I ordered it today to wear to my next Communist Dance Party with Mitchell. I think it means we have to ditch the good vodka for Stoli, though.

You know how sometimes people will sneak up behind you and poke you in the sides? Someone did that to me on Sunday and I accidentally punched them in the face. Oops. My Dad was there and he just laughed and told James that he could've warned him that would happen.

Oh man. So, I don't get the World Edition but that's because the 8330 comes out in stores April 11. Yay! It's the CDMA version of the Curve and obviously this is exciting to me. Go Melinda, it's your birthday.



I managed to get everything done on my ridiculous list of things to do and now I'm kind of bored. My sweater has developed a hole in the sleeve and I'm really none too impressed about that. It just means I have to go buy a new sweater while I'm on lunch today. The only problem with that is that I really, really like this sweater.

Alright, off to be a busy bee.