Shanghai Escape

I've been wanting to purchase this since I first saw it on the shelf:

I want it for the cars, and I also love Indy's tux. What I don't want is to spend $40.00 on it. Why does LEGO have to be so pricey? I suppose it could be worse, though. I'll try and stop by the Toys 'R' Us soon to pick it up, because when I want something, it eats at me until I get it.

Okay, so I'll cave just this once.

Due to overwhelming demand, I am posting a picture of my hair.

It's an awful shot. RIM should improve the cameras on their BBs, for really. Plus I did this in the bathroom at work this morning, and someone almost caught me doing it. It's bad enough people do this at home, but what kind of douche takes bathroom pictures of themselves at work??

Another THREE bite the dust!

So we lost three more people at work today. They were from the department that orders all our office supplies and manages the warehouse where we print and keep all our forms and applications. Apparently the warehouse is supposed to be closed altogether because they're outsourcing the printing.

It's not the end, either. There are still other departments that were supposed to cut people that haven't yet. I think the Marketing department is getting shut down completely too, sometime in the future, again because they've outsourced the printing.

My boss keeps telling me sales administration (where I work) is safe. They've let go whoever they let go, and soon when our Accident/Sickness and Life/Health divisions merge for good, we may have different jobs, but we'll still have jobs.

I don't believe him for one minute.

Insulin Pump

I had an appointment with my endocrinologist this morning. Everything checked out alright. My A1c (a blood test that gives an average of what my blood sugar level has been over the past three months) was a tad high at 8.2 mmol/L, but that includes my Christmas indiscretions, and probably that huge bag of Costco trail mix that I polished off in less than a week.

The nurse ragged on me to get back to the gym (which I haven't been to in over a year, yet am still paying for), and then she and the doctor ganged up on me for their constant mantra, "So, are you getting a pump?"

I take 4 needles a day, before meals and before bed. In and out, and it's done. A pump is stuck in your stomach or wherever else you want to put it 24 hours a day, 7 days a week. Of course, it can come off when I shower or when I'm swimming, and it is awfully convenient at meal time so I'm not last at the table because I'm taking a shot.

I think I'm just scared of it. I'm scared of putting on more weight with it, because with the needles, if I feel like a snack, I'd have to take another shot (not like I do, though). But with a pump, if I feel like a snack, I can just give myself more insulin. More food+more insulin=more fat.

Everyone I know that has one swears by it, though. And since the Feds finally decided they'd cover the cost of the pump, the tubing, and other stuff that goes with it (some models can run you 6 or 7 thousand dollars, plus another 3 thousand a year for the other stuff!) , they're a lot easier to get. I told the doctor I'd go to the pump information night that my clinic holds and go from there.

Compliments

People are still complimenting my hair and how nice it looks since I freed its natural curls from the confines of a dreaded ponytail holder.

They have to stop soon or I'll say something really terrible about it just to get them to shut it, even if it isn't true.

I have a hard time taking a compliment. I think I have this inferiority complex where I feel like I don't deserve them. Then again, I notice a lot of girls do this.

"That is an AWESOME DRESS!"

"This old thing? It's no big deal...it's made out of bits of blankets that homeless people abandonned on the street...nothing special."

Why must we do this? Why can't we accept that we look good, and that other people think so too?

YAY Babies!

I want to send a big congratulations to my cousins Anthony and Jen...they're having a baby!

We found out yesterday, and she's three months along. Jen is usually looking pretty styling, so I was wondering what was up with those "mom" jeans she had on.

Bizarre-ness (Bizarrity?) at the Dollar Store

I was looking through the pictures on my BB, and realized I haven't shared this with anyone yet.

I was at the dollar store around Christmas, getting some bows and tissue paper for my gifts, when I came upon this marvelous piece of publishing gold:

It seemed like one of those cheap generic word search books with themes like city names (that you've never heard of) and dog breeds (that you've never heard of). It didn't look like it had anything to do with Winona Ryder, or even celebrities in general.

I wonder if Winona knows about this? Could the geniuses that made this get in trouble?

I know dollar stores (especially the mom-and-pop ones) are rife with weird stuff like this, and seeing it only fuels my desire to splurge and get the good stuff, but sometimes I get a kick out of the bizarre merchandise they get away with selling.

The Joy of Tidy

Saturday is chores day. Of course we sweep and wash dishes and remove clutter on a daily basis, but we all work all week and come home tired, so we save most of the major stuff for the weekend. My mom says that if she were lucky and got to stay home, she would do different things every day and we wouldn't have to spend the whole day cleaning.

My mother is also a major neat-freak. She has an eagle-eye that can spot a microscopic piece of lint in the other room, and almost faints if we have one too many bottles of lotion or perfume on our bedroom dressers.

I'm am so glad I have a mom like this, though. Growing up with her has made me appreciate the calm and serenity of a clean and tidy house. I have been to some people's houses where it is obvious that people would rather leave that 3-day-old unwashed underwear on the floor (or their stairs!!) than strain their back to pick it up, and it makes me so antsy just looking at it.

Now I'm not claiming to be an angel when it comes to keeping my own room 100% tidy. I still have tissue paper from Christmas on my floor because my cats love to sleep on it. I even hate doing housework. There are a million things I'd rather be doing than vacuuming the house from top to bottom. Still, there are TWENTY million things I'd rather do than live in a dirty house, so I suck it up and get it done. And like my mother taught me, someday if I have kids (horror of horrors), I'll teach them too.

Jackpot!

$43,000,000.

That's how much tomorrow night's 6-49 draw is. I think they said it's the biggest pot ever for that lottery. And you get 100% of the money...not like some countries that like to take a bit of the pot away. But then again, the currency in those countries is probably worth more than ours, so there's really no difference.

I'm not one to buy lottery tickets usually, and I hate casinos, but I put my $5 in this time. It's a lot of money! I know that my tickets aren't going to win anything, and that's why I rarely bother. The odds are astronomical! Still, you can't win if you don't participate (unless you mug the winner outside the Lottery Office, of course), so no one can say I didn't try.

Wish me luck (in between the times you're wishing YOURSELF luck)!

Sushi Again?!?!?!

I had Japanese for lunch again. This time a group of us went out to a restaurant near the office.

I've been to this restaurant once before, on my birthday since it was free, and we gave it a lukewarm review. I wasn't sure I wanted to go back today, but hey, everyone should get a second chance, right?

Well, the food was good, but service was pretty bad. One of us asked for tea pretty much as soon as we sat down, and he never got it, even after an hour and a half of asking. They didn't bring our Teriyaki chicken either, and almost didn't bring the maki.

Everyone should get a second chance, but 3 is pushing it. Don't go to the Asian Kitchen Cuisine on Steeles Ave. in Markham for lunch if you're in a hurry.

Oh, and don't go there for dinner if you're NOT in a hurry...apparently they try to kick you out after an hour and a half.

Mr. Princess and the Slob

Here's Mickey. Isn't he such a prim and proper kitty?

Not like Junior...he has no shame.

Gosh, I love them.

Japanese Food

I think I'm going to replace my kitchen with a Japanese restaurant.

Yep, that's what I'm going to do.

I'm having sushi for lunch today. I've been craving it for a long time, but I haven't been able to get it. Last time it was because the parking lot of the Chinese grocery store where I buy it was so packed that I gave up looking for a spot and went to the Wendy's drive-thru instead.

Today was just as bad, probably worse, since everyone is out shopping for Chinese New Year. I'm lucky enough to work in a predominantly Chinese area, so you can imagine the chaos. I stuck to my guns and found a spot though, all the way on the other side of the plaza, and as a result, am now enjoying my long-desired meal. I'd take a picture, but it tastes better than it looks, and you don't really care about what I'm having for lunch.

Naughty, naughty.

I'm posting this when I should be working, updating a report or something. I am so bad. I just can't get motivated.

You know that gross feeling you get when you eat a whole bag of Oreos by yourself? I'm not saying I've personally done that, but that's how I feel about not being productive. I don't even know what to do. This isn't a new thing for me.

Sad, Sorry Excuse for an Adult

I like to sing in the shower. Who doesn't? It's the only place where most of us have a chance of sounding like we can win (insert country/province/workplace name here) Idol.

Here's where I start drifting into Weird-Town. I pretend like I have a back-up band playing for me. Even worse, I give them all names. Even WORSE, I've made them into Lego(TM) mini-figs, and made instruments for them. The WORST is that I am putting up a picture of them!

This is a picture of the bar I built for them. You can't see the actual bar, or the tables around the stage, but it looks pretty funky. And I'm 26 years old. When will I ever grow up?

P.S. Thanks to Christopher Doyle from Reasonably Clever for the mini-figs. His Buy-ME-mizer is great!

Working With Mom

So I work with my mom. That's great! We drive in together, we take lunches together, and we can talk about our days and know exactly what the other is on about. And considering the quality of most of our co-workers' personalities, it's a good thing we have eachother.

The only thing I don't like is that I have to follow her schedule. She works 8:30 to 5:00, which means we have to get there before 8:30, and have to leave after 5:00. I don't mind being in before 8:30, but that means we should also get to leave at 4:30, but she is the receptionist, and the phones don't close until 5:00. It makes for a long day, because the commute takes almost an hour each way too. That leaves practically no time in the rest of my day for relaxing because I have to worry about going to bed so I can get up early to do it all over again. This is fodder for another story, though.

Another con is the fact that when she's late, she complains. Nothing new there; we all complain when we're unhappy. I do it too. But, I don't like to hear it from other people. That probably stems from some deep-seeded need to help everyone, and since I probably can't help with whatever they're complaining about, I get upset and don't want to hear it.

A big pro, however, is the alternate route we take when our main route is backed-up. It's a twisty country road, and most of the farm houses along the way are old and beautiful. I'll try to take a video of some of them, and the twisty road, with my BB and post it here if we take it again soon.

Anyway, back to work, until I find something else to gripe about.

Hair

I got my hair did yesterday. Nothing exciting. It looks like every other haircut I've had for the past few years, but that's no fault of my own. I go in there telling them I want something different, and it always looks the same. Next time I have to take a picture of my hair and tell them, "Hey, if it still looks like this when you're done, I'm not paying you!"

I went to a nicer salon this time, where everyone supposedly knows what they're doing. It WAS a nice place, and my stylist was doing funky things with her scissors that the average First Choice stylist probably didn't learn, so why does it look the same? It has these weird layers, and I can't do anything to control them! I think I'm going to get more length off next time. I'm just glad I can put it in a ponytail if I still need to.

Speaking of ponytails, I'm not wearing one to work today. I ALWAYS wear my hair in a ponytail to work, for the past 3 years or more! So today, everyone is commenting on how pretty my mop is. "It's so curly," "It's so pretty," blah blah blah. I' m not one for liking attention so I wish they'd all let it go without saying anything.

But, my not liking attention is a totally different story.

Needles!

Had to get my semi-annual A1c and some other blood work done this morning. At the crack of dawn, too. Okay, 8:00 isn't exactly the crack of dawn, but it was early for me since I rarely get up before noon on weekends. The clinic closes at noon on Saturdays though, so I had to get up.

Believe me, I'd love nothing more than to get this out of the way after work during the week, but most of the tests that I have to get done require me to have fasted for 8 hours or so, and that's not likely to have happened during the week.

I hate going, too. I am not a huge fan of needles. That is really strange for ME to say, since I have type 1 diabetes and give myself four needles a day, but it's not the same. I can control where I'm putting it, and my needles are a lot smaller. I'll give myself some credit though. I used to be a lot more of a chicken about it before. I used to get the sweats, and have nightmares about it, sad as that is. Now I see it as more of a chore, but I still never look when the woman comes at me with the needle. I'm just glad it only happens every six months.

Nothing beats when they put my blood on a tap when I was in the hospital getting diagnosed. They came at me every two seconds taking more blood, until they realized they were going to have to put a tap in my artery. For reals. It's like a vampire's dream come true! Looking back, I can remember feeling an apathy about getting it put in. What's another needle after the thousands I was getting jabbed with? I still cringe about it's removal though because I was still bleeding after they took it out...

Okay, I'm going to make myself sick. I like to think I have a strong stomach, but it doesn't always back that claim up.

Grammar

Someone I know says "until" when she means "as long as". For example, "Until we're alive, we have to deal with what life gives us."

So are we in some kind of purgatory limbo, dealing with life, but not really alive?

Anyway, I'm not going to mince words, I'm a stickler for proper grammar. Hearing a syntax malfunction makes me cringe, and using commas when you're talking about plurals ("My dog's are so cool!") causes me to die a little on the inside. I won't hesitate to correct you either, even if it means that you'll hate me forever for being that annoying grammar-freak.

Maybe I should spend my energy on better things, but is it really wrong to want the world to speak properly? Don't get me wrong, I'm not against slang, and I will talk like a street thug when the mood hits, but luckily it doesn't hit often. There's just a time and a place for everything.

I don't know, I guess constant bad grammar makes a person look uneducated in my eyes.

Now I'm gonna cut the person I know some slack, because English was not her first language, and these people are safe from my wrath. It's not an easy language to learn. For the rest of you, there is no excuse.

Off to upgrade my spellcheck.

Foreward

So I've tried this before elsewhere, but I was never one to follow-through with what I start. I think I'll like this format better, though.

I kept a diary when I was younger. A cute little pink book with a lock on it to share my innermost thoughts with. Nothing is wrong with it, but it's not the same as spilling your guts to a really close (human, preferably) friend. Still, there are some things you don't want to tell even a friend, which makes evident the advantages of having a private diary. Now, I wouldn't consider any of you internet strangers that happen to land on my page a really close friend, so I won't feel bad talking about certain things and people in the future, and if you care to read what I have to say, you can commiserate or e-smack me for being whiny without ratting on me to those I'm talking about.

Imagine, having a diary and the ability to tell everything all at the same time! Wonder of wonders!