Lay Me Down On a Bed of Rose Colored Cupcakes

Because frankly, thats all the lovin' I want right now. Buttercream lovin'.

I am slowly going crazy..

I'm writing a Fem. Phil essay, which is making me crazy. And I just hit ok on the spell check to replacing every "perceiver" with the word "pervert". I am laughing, because if I do not laugh, I will sob uncontrollably until I die in my essay writing chair, pen in hand.

Yay!

Song of the Day is back! My file hosting thingy is finally working. God bless this series of tubes that the internet is. *sigh* Magic.

And good luck to you.

Yes. Yes. Yes.

*Insert Smug Smile Here*

I have gone to the gym more than not this month! In fact, CONSIDERABLY more that not. Like, only 5 days or so I haven't gone! And, as a result, I have lost... (fat roll here.. I mean.. drum roll) 5 whole pounds of CHRISTMAS! (Ok, and donair, and beer, and the penchant I had for Sweet Chili Heat chips last semester.) The only problem is.. that now, when I don't go..ok, or just contemplate not going to the gym, I get the sweats and get all anxious. Sweet Mary and Joseph in a peach tree. I may actually be on my way to attaining my life long dream of an eating disorder! (I am 100% joking Mom. Everyone else? Nicole Richie is my idol.) Now if only I could be good at math.

Damn You RSS!

Hey.. so to all of you who have switched over and are reading me via my RSS feed on Facebook.. boo to you. You comment (such funny comments) on Facebook, and not here! Now it looks like nobody reads me. Or nobody does. *sigh* Wow. Downer. Mom.. you still read me, right?

I am Woman, Hear Me Scramble Your Eggs.

Dear Hunky Feminist Philosophy Teacher.

Could you possibly try not to look AS handsome, because it's really hard to think about oppression when all I want to be is barefoot and pregnant in your kitchen while you whisper sweet liberations in my ear.

Thank you.

Ms. P

Apparently Bad Plank is Genetic..

My totally brave brother came to yoga with Sabine and I - we had a blast! It was so much fun, Sabine and Nic couldn't stop laughing about farting, and my brother actually said he really liked it, and will come back next week! Mel, our instructor, pointed out that we both have the same problem with doing the plank. I said it was genetic. Nic said it was because I had a big butt and he had none. Witty bastard.

It's Kosher, Recycled.. and Windy?

It's Soy Milk!

Letter To A Good Girlfriend-

Dear Girlfriend -

Thank-you for being such a great girl last Friday night. Honestly, I'm not really sure why I thought that it was such a good idea to show up in time for dollar doubles, or why I thought it might be a super idea to drink 12 of them in a row, while attempting to dance to ACDC.. on the floor. Which, while super comfortable, made my jeans kinda sticky, and also made it really easy to fall asleep.

And hey, thanks for making the executive decision NOT to let me get a tacky butterfly spray painted on my back/butt, and instead steering me towards a far less tacky barcode, despite my protestations and attempted bribes. More so, way to go for deciding NOT to let us eat donairs in the car. I vaguely remember getting a free cup of donair sauce and spilling it, and then.. um.. still eating it. (I'm sorry for then getting it all over your car in big sticky donair hands.. and.. um.. I'm pretty sure all over you.)

Thanks for getting me to bed, albeit with donair sauce and makeup still on, one sock and an earring half in my mouth. And thanks for laughing out loud at me the next day. It made the fact that I'm pretty sure I tried to make love to your Honda a lot easier to bear. P.S. uh.. I owe you.

Love -
Ms. P.

You Know Why I Love Mondays?

Because the antiseptic isn't diluted at the gym yet! Yay! No other-peoples-gross-sweat day!

View From The Top

The Gym

So I'm holding fast to my New Years resolution of visiting the gym on a daily basis. I think visiting may be the wrong word. Visiting kinda sounds like I go there to see friends, or hang out, or have tea. Which, while preferable, is not what I am doing. 45 minutes running and 45 minutes weights/sit-ups and various other machines do not a "visit" make.

But I've discovered, like some sort of athleta-sociologist, that the Gym has entirely it's own culture and kind of people - it's a country unto itself! I'm sure that the demographics change over the day, that at 6am there is a different kind of people there than at noon or at night, but the ones I see.. well..

Elliptical Elise's - The girls who wear their make-up - nay, touch up their make-up- to go to the gym. Their workout clothes are pristine and matching, often top of the line. They are never seen anywhere but on the elliptical machines, often reading a magazine. They ALWAYS bring their own towels.

Ancient Andrew and Anne - A newer addition to our gym, where the 55+ program is in full swing, they more often have many differing supports, various knee braces and whatnot, and either orthopedic shoes, or penny loafers. They look like they're about to snap in two at any moment, but actually have amazing strength - probably from living through 2 world wars.

Gym Gerald - Focused, fit, and completely into checking himself, and you, out. For example, our particular Gym Gerald often checks me out at 6 in the morning, despite the fact my gym socks don't match, I've got zit cream on my face, pillow lines on my neck and am picking my wedgie. Last I spoke to him he askd "what are you working on" and I replied "not being fat." He doesn't talk to me anymore.

Serious Sid and Sydney - Tanned, muscled and gleaming, they are the reason that other people go to the gym - to look like them. Beat up yet expensive gym wear, they can consistently go faster, longer and lift more than you, making it look so effortless that they might as well be making a souffle on the side. Worse, they actually look like they enjoy it.

And the current most popular gym personality..

New Years Nancy - (ME!) - Showing real tenacity and stick-to-itiveness, they show up at 6am for the first two weeks, taking only Sundays off. Then, it gets to be 7 am, they start working out every other day, then only show up to Yoga, then they dissapear, leaving only a locker of hopes and dreams of looking like Jessica Alba, and one lone, smelly sock. Until next January.

Oh.

Hmm. So this is my morning news check cycle. The Superficial. Go Fug Yourself. Gawker. New York Times. CNN. Oh no no no...

Next Time, I'll Feign a Seizure

The longer I'm out of the whole dating scene (after a half lapsed Mormon and a man who insisted on talking about himself in the third person.. you would be too) the worse I get with men. I don't know if it's just because I'm out of practice.. but dear sweet Jesus crackers, this is horrible.

I have this Feminist Philosophy class, which I'm enjoying quite a bit. My proffessor is brilliant, and unfortunately.. kind of handsome. Ok. Really handsome. Which actually bears no relevance to my liking the class.. but does completely relate to this story.

We all had to chose a particular article in our text to interpret and present on. I've always had a periphery interest in Simone de Beauvoir, so I chose her - unfortunately, she's the very first article, and hence.. the very first presentation. Which isn't a bad thing. I'm all for setting the bar high for everyone else. Which would have been a lot easier had my brain not disconnected from my mouth when I went to get help from my prof.

I started sweating. Honest to goodness, sweat running down my back and my nose. And stuttering. I'm trying to impart my thesis in an intelligent and cohesive matter, and the only thing I could think of was the fact that it really seemed liked the room was getting smaller. And then, after talking about his education history, I blurted out "Are you old?". Damn it! To which he replied, "No, I'm only 30." Do you know what I SAID to that? "Oh, you're only 12 years younger than my last boyfriend!". SHIT! Trying to ignore that, we went back to talking about my paper, then talked about public speaking, making reference to the fact that I am always afraid I'm going to pee myself. DAMN!

I'm sure he was giving me some great advice in the meantime, but I was so friggin' nervous, that I could barely hear what he was saying over the roar of "STUPID STUPID STUPID" in my brain. So I walked out of the office without any help at all. I did well. But I'm pretty sure he gave me points for not spontaneously urinating in front of the class.

Organized

I'm organized down to the last.. last MINUTE of the day. From friends, job stuff, work, reading, studying, sleeping, the gym, eating, cooking. Ahhh! I thought that being organized was what I wanted.. I don't know if I do anymore. I mean, yes, it's really really useful. Better time management, I've definately increased my productivity, I get way way more time in a day. *sigh* But it just seems that somehow, I've just.. It's like untangling a huge whack of string. In the end, even though you have a nice ball of string - you still have a crap load of knitting to do, and not enough time to do it in. Really, is setting the goal of getting Jessica Alba's body in a week really that lofty?

This is How I Feel Now That I Started Reading Gossip Rags

Out of the Gate.. Just not the Watergate.

Gee, in all my fervour at school I forget to start ticking off Nancy Pelosi's first 100 hours! Franklin Rosevelt may have given himself 100 days, but we all know what a man (and a president) could do in 100 hours, the speaker of the house can do in 100 hours!

So, she is endeavouring to complete - Raising the minumum wage 2$, cutting interest on student loans in half, subsidizing medicare.. and my personal favorite - "drain the GOP swamp". They haven't seen that much action in there since.. well.. um.. There was that time.. Oh you wiley woman you, I hope they floss their teeth with your ugly suits, after they eat you fried in the pork fat!

(And whats happening in Canada? Well, Wajid Khan just spent 13,000$ on an 11 (?) day trip to study middle eastern relations, and write a report that nobody but Harper is allowed to read. Thank-goodness he defected to the Conservatives, we know they simply can't spend money without a gun to their head. Or at least the realization that their multicultural portfolio head could be..um.. multicultural.)

this post doesn't need a title.

there is somebody eating a bagel with salmon cream cheese in the library, 5 feet from me. give me the strength not to chop off thier heads with my feminism in philosophy text and spit down their throat.

Lusticon 5th Edition

Flabalanche n. - The moment when a woman pulls off a tight outfit and flab that had been bound like sausage in it casing comes cascading down. usage- "i couldn't believe she was going to sleep with me- until she pulled off her dress. Once i saw the flabalanche, it all made sense."

Cuddle hustle n. - An age-old manploy in which a woman agrees to spend the night with the assurance that the guy is absoulutely not interested in having sex. usage -"she stayed over at my place cause we were both tired and drunk, but once i got my cuddle hustle on, we were going at it in no time."

Starchitecht n. - a variety of architect that relies almost solely on the concrete/exposed beams/ huge windows look, very plain and monk-ish. Common in lofts etc. usage - "My starchitect refuses to use any other color than grey."

(Thanks to T. for his amazing contributions, no doubt inspired by the Globe!)

Holy Carp, It's Like Shooting Fish in a Barrel..

The bookstore is so unfair. It's so expensive. Some of my classics texts for phil are more than MEDICAL textbooks. Seriously. Somebody tell me the reason in that? Do you want me to be able to tell you the meaning of your life, or save it? Today I think I'd rather know more about the Heimlich than Hegel. It's so cramped in there with half the entire school deciding to buy "Feminist Thought" at the same time, I just gave up and came running home. I think there should be an illegal textbook downloading site. Forget the Beatles. I want Beauvoir.

And what HAVE I done? I'm taking Philosophy of Feminism (where the 2 men look very frightened, and the lack of any women philosophy teachers dictates that it's taught by a man..who looked very relieved to see me, as I was the only one wearing make-up.. and I'm pretty sure the only one wearing a bra..) Philosophy of Mind (where I'm the only one without a t-shirt that shows either the evolution of man or Homer Simpson) Philosophy of Science (ok, if we WERE to delve into this one.. Lets say I'm pretty sure I've touched more boobs than these guys) and my Descartes/Kant class which has the exact same people as my Greek class last semester. Oh yeah. And French. Where I'm more French than Mr. Yakimishyn, our painfully NOT French teacher.

With my poor math, I've figured out that even reading quickly.. I've got 4 hours of reading a day. Minumum. Plus assignments.

Shit.

Operation Resolution - Get Organized

Things I found while cleaning out my closet/purses/shoes for donation to friends/goodwill/bums.

-a half smoked cigarette
-a guitar pick
-3 fly fishing lures
-my tweezerman tweezers
-my halloween candy
-5$
-8 tubes of the same lipchap that I kept buying when I lost them
-37 bobby pins

You don't even want to know what I found under my bathroom sink. Other than I found out (after living here for a semester) that my sink leaks. Onto everything under my sink. After throwing out three (3!) bulging bags of garbage... my bathroom is organized.

And as soon as I finish this old 1/2 cigarette and mouldy O Henry bar, my closet will be organized too. Sweet. I'm doing way better on the organization thing than the excersise thing.. babysteps..

Home!

Alright, after 6 hours on a flight with seven babies (two of which sat right behind us), a very suspicious old lady that kept sneezing on my bro after we read about necrotizing pneumonia, no water and a thousand pretzels, I am home. To my own bed, my own computer, my own washroom, my own (very empty and sad) fridge. *Sigh* I miss my family already! Ok, and I miss the food a lot too. *sigh* But yeah. So I'm home, yay 2007 in Edmonton!

New Years with the Family!

Happy New Year!

I've always thought it was a little absurd to welcome a new year with a raging headache.. So last night my whole family and I made a big dinner, fondue and baked brie and ceasar salad and pear and goat cheese tart.. I may not have started the new year with a headache, but I did start it with a five thousand calorie surplus in my belly.

Also made a few resolutions.. Since I'm a big fan of the top five lists.. here we go!

1. Go to the gym more. (This is by no means my #1, I'm not putting these in order. I just mean.. well, I've getting kinda a pot belly.. I just mean get to the gym a couple times a week because it makes me feel a lot better about my..um.. belly.)

2. Stop saying the word "like". (I cured myself last new years of saying "I'm doing good". Now I say "I'm doing well". Because as much as I'd like to be Super Woman with her Golden Lasso of Truth.. I'm doing well. I'm not doing good.)

3. Cook at home more. (This kinda goes hand in fat belly with #1.. I love cooking, but sometimes it's all too easy to grab a burger or something when you're in a rush. So, I'm going to brown bag it a lot more. And cook at home. *smile*)

4. Be Kinder (It's kind of self explanatory. I need.. um.. some good karma. And it's supposed to feel good, right?)

5. Be more organized. (It's in my control, I just need to do it. There ARE enough hours in the day.. but not when you sleep in or watch a helluva lot of CSI.)

So there you go. Feel free to call me on it. But not while I'm eating bought cheesecake and like, bitching about a shitty co-worker while I'm supposed to be in a meeting.

Happy New Year! I have an overwhelming feeling that 2007 is going to be a great one.