Experimental Cookies 101

So, cooking is fun when your kitchen is not stocked! I like making cookies. I did it at Mom's place a few times. It was fun because all you had to do was pull out the ingredients, pull open cupboards and drawrs to find the tools you need, drop the tasty little globs on the baking sheet and pop them in the oven. Chewy goodness in less than an hour.
But, I just moved into my own place.
That does not have the fixings for cookies.
So, I bought them. They were expensive, and heavy to carry home. My arms are an inch longer.
Now, I have begun making the cookies. I have the flour, the sugar, the eggs...
I have a bowl. I have a spoon.
I have no juicer, so I just squished my fingers into that orange until its guts came out.
I have no zester, so I cut chunks of the peel off and put them in my hand-held parmesan cheese grater (no explanation as to why I have one of those and no zester). That actually worked okay.
I have no baking sheets, so I bought one of those tin ones at the grocery store, but again, I was carrying everything home, so it bent in the wind. It kind of looks like a hubcap.
I have no measuring spoons. So, my philosophy is, just shake the box of whatever you need, and probably the right amount will come out.
I have no cooling rack, so I'm using my cutting board...this does not work.
Also, does anyone know why cookies come out bready? I wanted chocoalte-chip cookie consistency, not these doughy things.
But they taste damn good.

Rainy blowy dirty

A couple of days of lousy weather hasn't made me the happiest person in the world, but I've gotten a lot done lately. Work ended early on Friday (1130) with a momosa toast with the CEO in the caf. Then I went to the bank, where I opened an RRSP (been meaning to do that), and a savings fund for vacations (it's amazing that most of my life I've been dreaming of going places and never got there, and now I'm planning so many!), I've mailed packages to Mom and Laur and Kev, I've been grocery shopping twice, I finished my holiday gift shopping (a little late, but no one's around till after the holidays anyway!), and I've learned a few things. What have I learned? Well, for one, if you have to buy everything to make cookies from scrath, then cookies are expensive! And also, the makings for cookies are heavy if you're carrying them home. On the upside of that, though, is that soon I should (hopefully) have another recipe or two to add to my collection (I'll publish it here if the prevailing opinion on them is positive). Why am I making cookies? I'm going to go have dinner and watch movies with the Robins tomorrow. So looking forward to that, but there's so much to do! They're picking me up here, which means I definitely have cleaning to do, in case they come up to my apartment. It's not that this place is completely filthy, it's just that it's small enough that even a little mess is really bad looking. And I want my first place to make a good impression. Well, as good an impression as it can make, without curtains (I'll get to that soon). Also there's cookies to make, gifts to wrap, and laundry to do, and I'm dogsitting Eggroll while the brother's in BC, so I have the dog to take care of, which I don't really mind, except that it means we keep having to go out in this horrid weather (eew). Oh well. I'd better get to the cleaning if I'm to have everything ready and presentable tomorrow. Later!

Busy holiday thought-process blog.

Hello.
I've a feeling that it's been awhile since I last blogged, though I'm a little unsure because there has been at least one blog that I've written and not published, because halfway through writing it I realized it was unbelievably boring.
Which is strange because life lately has not been boring at all. I've been to two book club meetings, once where we all discussed The Secret of Platform 13 and stuffed our faces with Swiss Chalet, and once to spend a surprisingly un-torturous eight hours watching a BBC movie of a Charles Dickens book (Our Mutual Friend). Officially there is another meeting tomorrow evening, to discuss Day of the Triffids and stuff ourselves with Greek food, but I'm going to skip this one in order to spend the evening with Hugh before he takes off to Montreal for the holidays.
I went to Ikea last week and spent an inordinate amount of money, however much of it (most of it) was on curtains, which are kind of essential, so I don't feel too bad about it. The one regret is that as I have no car, I couldn't get everything I'd wanted at once, and thus I am still mirrorless, and my tv continues to rest on an end table that holds it just high enough for me to see half the screen from my bed.
Thursday I went to the mall with a friend, where we lighting-speed shopped for presents and then went to see Happy Feet, which was very good, and made even better by the Harry Potter 5 trailer which preceeded it.
And then friday there was a party at Lisa's new apartment that was quiet but fun, and funny when we realized that of all the people at Lisa's "Christmas Party", she was the only one there who celebrates Christmas.
And the brother was over here today. I gave him his Hanukka presents (well received, I think), and we went out and bought me a showerhead and a toolbox and sticky things with which to hang things on walls, and we bought him a fan for his house and we bought a fuzzy blue toy and pig ears for Eggroll and a ball and some catnip for the cats. Then we came home, inhaled subs for dinner, and got the cats all spaced out on kitty drugs. Even now The Three Legged One is wrigging around my desk chair so I have to be careful not to move anywhere on fear of flattening a tail, and the other one keeps periodically going into frantic searches for the tub of catnip that was formerly left on the bed, until I caught him trying to knaw his way into it.
So, that's the brothers', Eggrolls', and the cats' presents out of the way. I have presents for Mom (to be sent off with the bro on tuesday), but I want to see if I can find more. She's being unusually unhelpful this year with gift ideas, which are always harder to come up with when she's not around. I have part of Lauren's gift, and I know what I want for the rest, I just haven't found it yet. I have books for Kevin, but a) he knows about them, and b) I got them through work, so I'm not sure they count. So, even though I've felt like I'm behind in my shopping lately, I think I'm doing better than I'm giving myself credit for.
But does anyone have any advice on whether I should get something for my bosses, and if so, then what???

She's BACK!

Oh my god I'm online! It feels like I can breathe again.
Okay, so, first, that was a shitty way to leave off news-wise before my move, but as Mom can attest, the sudden absence of my internet connection was, well...sudden. And earlier than expected. So sorry for the lack of 'goodbye for now' email that I had totally intended to write.
But now I'm here! I'm sitting in my own first apartment, which is unbelievably cool, and I actually have internet and cable and power and heat and all those cool things that real, living-on-their-own people need.
The move was...well, moves are always hard,not to mention that I moved on the same day that Mom left, which, for the record, I don't recommend. Mostly it was hard and exhausting, and by Sunday night I was not the happiest of girls, but Hugh came over (friends are great things) and brought chocolate and popcorn and ice cream (which I am still eating- honestly, if you need calorie-fueled help, Hugh is the man to go to, people. Nothing like a doctor to help you clog your arteries!)
And ever since then I've been slowly setting up my place. First I moved the pile of my junk into the corner, then I moved it to the hallway, then I moved it to the middle of the floor, then I moved it in front of the bookcase, and now it's partly in the kitchen, and partly on the couch. But each time its moved, it's gotten a little smaller, which is good.
So, the place isn't perfect yet, but it's getting there. I still need the blue couch cover (though unearthing the couch from the boxes on top of it first would be best), and yes, I forgot to buy the juice jug I needed, so when I was desperate for lemonade, I mixed it up in an empty ice cream container (a little ghetto, but my undergrad days seem to be kicking in).
I could go on, but at this point I'm probably getting boring (you don't want to hear about me putting that plastic stuff on my window, no matter how proud I am that I did it all on my own, or how I figured out how to hang the chandelier in my bathroom, etc, etc...)
Mom got to the Vic okay. She said her flight was hell- delays, fat businessmen, drunken seatmates and multiple layovers- and when she got to the island it was (ironically) covered in snow. Apparently the once-every-twenty-years snowfall that Victoria gets fell, and the city ground to a halt; no plows, schools and businesses closed, and people wasdering around wondering what to do. I thought it was hilarious- Mom moves to the one place in Canada it's not supposed to snow (she hates winter), and it snows on her. Not to mention, it was unseasonably warm here that week.
...though our heat wave copped out last friday. Having lived in my new place for five days, I decided I wanted a break (not really, I just wanted out of the city awhile), so I went to visit Laur and Kev in Orangeville. Where Lauren bought me my Christmas/Hanukkah present- I got inked! I'm very pleased, even though this thing itches like crazy right now, and I'm going to have to have it touched up cause I think I got a crack (tattoos want to dry out while they're healing; if they do, your skin can split and what you get is a very thin break in the ink of the tat). Oh well- going to Orangeville to see my tat artist is just another good excuse to go visit Kev again...cause by then Lauren will be long gone (cry, cry) to Australia for a whole year. And yes, I should be getting more and more worried/sad/upset that my best friend is taking off to the other side of the world for forever, but honestly, the closer she gets to her trip, the more excited I get for her. I can't wait to hear what she sees and does out there. Have fun, lady!
In Orangeville there was also a blackout and a kick-ass game on Monopoly (and by that I mean Lauren and I got our asses kicked...Kev's scary-good at that game), and I watched Kev in the christmas parade, which was small-town cute.
And there's more...I joined a bookclub and I want to the TSO this week...so much, and I'll write about it all, I promise...but right now I have brand-spankin'-new cable tv callin my name!

The Calm Post-Storm

(For the record, Lauren did me the HUGE favour of posting this for me. Thanks!)


So, am I okay? That seems to be the question I’ve been getting, from everyone, lately. The proud part of me wants to get angry at the people who keep asking me that. But most of me feels that the question is rather justified. Mom left- she moved away, and I moved to my first place of my own on the same day. For the record, I would not recommend this to others. If you must do these things, do not do them in one day. It is rather difficult.
Not that the move was overly difficult. With a day’s hindsight I can see that, as moves go, it wasn’t one of the more Mission:Impossible-esque ones. I had lots of help- I don’t know what I would have done without Kev and Laur and their wonderful, beautiful car- and the brother and his roommate were both movers extraordinaire on my behalf. Despite the expected (and inevitable) bumps along the way (the wait to sign the lease, the painting not done in my new apartment, the missing storage-locker key), I got myself, my stuff, and my cats into the new place, and by the end of the night even had places for my friends and I to sleep.
Sunday was spent moving stuff around. Really- there was some minimal unpacking, there was great consumption of munchies, there was an interesting diversion figuring out how to work my new ancient stove. But mostly it was just shifting the clutter from place to place- the painting is going to be finished this week, but that means I can’t have stuff in the ‘to be painted’ places. I’ll wait till that’s done before I even TRY to get organized. But the beauty of it is, all the stress of the last month was because everything was on a deadline. Now, no deadlines. I can live in a pile of clutter for as long as I like!
I currently don’t have cable or internet at my new place, so this is being written by me and sent to Lauren, who is publishing them on my behalf (thanks Lauren- friends to my rescue again). It’s a good thing she’s agreed to do this, too; with no blog, not even a computer at home right now, I’m suffering. Seriously- I wrote this letter to my aunt last night that was really random. I should not be allowed to write things while ‘Garden State’ is playing in the background. I think I came off sounding like a spaz. Meh.
Anyways, as usual there’s more to say but I’m word-blocked, and much of it is boring (do you really want to hear about my victorious hunt though box jungle for my umbrella this morning?), so I’m going to leave off here. Best to all!

Geez louise, days are short!

Okay, so couch dyeing was a bust, but I'm over it. And as much as I love my bf (yes, I'm a 13 yr old), her taste in all things shabby-chic is not one I share (very often), and the couch falls into that category (sorry, Laur). Therefore, I have decided to bite the bullet and go back to Ikea for the blue couch cover. This follows a moderately fruitful shopping pilgrimage today which produced many things, including the perfect giant brown pillows for the couch, sheets for the pull-out (I feel like a grown-up; I have sheets for guests to use!), and an actual decorating plan for the (1920's? 1950's?) bathroom, which is a minty-seafoamish green colour with very deco tiles. For the record, I've decided it just SCREAMS kitschy-cool, and thus am now on the hunt for a black and crystal chandelier, black and white towels, and the most kitsch-fantastic wall art to be found. Suggestions are welcome!
Meanwhile, the aforementioned couch is turning out the opposite of what I'd had in mind- the brown couch with the blue cusions is now the blue couch with the brown cusions. Or, it will be, whenever I find the time to go back to Ikea. Which, I have no more of. Time, that is.
I move in four days. Frightening.
I have packed four boxes of books, plus one of books that will not be coming with me, though where they will be going is still airborne. I'll find them a good home.
And speaking of books, I joined a book club! Yes, I know, anyone whose ever known me is questioning why this didn't happen a very, very, very long time ago. but this group is really good. They're fun and young and eclectic, and they're real readers! Some of them are even sci-fi's and fantasy fanatics like me! I think I'm going to have fun. I'm sure I'll talk incessantly about it here.
So, yes, bookclub on monday and shopping tonight, and the weekend was spent (wasted) errantly trying to turn my couch brown, and also I went to Hamlet with some friends, many of them bookclubbers. Oh, and Hugh and I had dinner monday, too. So, basically, with three days before I move, I'm still wasting time and not packing! I love how I do this.

Insert scream of frustration here.

So, I bought a slipcover for my couch.
It was the wrong colour, but Mom suggested we dye it.
We spent lots of $ on dye, cause it takes a ton of dye to dye a couch cover. I used black and brown, becuase I wanted a deep espresso colour.
It was very very hard to do. We had to go out and buy more supplies three times. the thing soaked in our bathtub for two days. It was heavy and messy and it took forever.
But, then it was an okay colour. Not espresso, but I could live the with chocolate colour I'd achieved- I was proud that I'd done it on my own; that made me like it more.
I followed the directions. At the end, it said 'rinse with cold water until water runs clear, then wash separately in hot water to remove last of dye.'
I put it in the wash. I put the washer to 'hot'.
Now my slipcover is the colour of old pea soup.
I have spent too much $ on it already, I'm too exhausted to try and dye it again, and I'm so freaking disappointed...
Why is everything lately ending up like this???
Everything's a gong show. This sucks.
I'm going to go buy myself the damn blue slipcover. What a freakin waste of money.

Pack some books.

...written Thursday.

I slept well last night, but goings-on lately have been so wholly exhausting that I’m still tired today.
I know I haven’t blogged lately- trust me when I say that I’ve been busy. Short summary:

-Mortgage no, looked for apartment, ate deli, found apartment- 2nd floor, bach, a little rough, but good price.
-The brother moved! New condo is GORGEOUS.
-Sold Royal Doultons online, made me some bucks. Sent off three.
-Went to Hamilton with friends, hard-core partying, tired but good next day.
- Piano in old apartment taken away to reside with Laura until further notice (officially it’s my brothers’), large pile o’ boxes shows up to replace it.
-Packed some books.
-Went back to new apt building to drop off Confirmation of Employment letter, found out they had another bach. open, went to see it, switched to that one- 5th (top) floor, same layout, better kept-up, balcony…going to re-label #5 button in elevator to say ‘PH’.
-Packed some books
-Went shopping with work-friends Mary and Catherine. Hunt for mittens was fruitless, bought books.
-Chose colours for paint in new apt- blue kitchen, beige everything else.
-Found out two of three Royal Doultons arrived smashed, have little brother taking care of my problems!
-Packed some books
-Mom sold dining room table, table taken away. Notable lack of chairs in old apt.
-Whirlwind adventure in search of the perfect slipcover for ugly ugly couch that three-legged cat ADORES, found one of perfect shape and near-perfect size (we’ll just tell the couch to suck it in)…wrong colour. Purchased anyway. Upcoming events: Adventures in couch-dyeing!

All I have time for right now. Gotta go…well, guess.

Busy week (though, aren't they all?)

Hi People,
I am writing from Hugh's place (again). This has been a big week (they're all pretty big lately), and I'm rather tired. Though that could also have something to do with the fact that we were out till 230 last night (this morning, technically), and it's 9am and I'm already awake. I'm odd that way- give me a weekend at home, and prying me out of a bed requires a crow bar and a corkscrew (yeah, I didn't get that one either), but if I'm at my friend's place, I'm always up early in the morning. And it's not because I'm uncomfortable or the place is unfamiliar- I've been on that futon at least a million times- it's just a quirk, I guess.
Anyways. I went to see that apartment I mentioned (I think I mentioned it- the beautiful one). You know that thing they say about when something seems too good to be true, it usually is? Yeah- they're right. The apartment that was listed online, with the beautiful pictures, well, the beautiful pictures were of some other apartment. Grrr.
And my bankerfrriend totally came through. I had an appointment at the bank yesterday, and they were really nice and promised they'd get back to me right away (which is already more than I got from the first guy- jerk). So, it's by far not a done deal, and there are no guarantees that I'll get what I want, but at least they're trying for me. Combine this with the fact that banker is also the one helping me get a passport, and I've begun calling him my own personal Santa. Btw, Santa...I want a brown leather purse.
And it's not all been boring busy house stuff! Mom and I got unexpected tickets to Stratford last weekend, and saw Twelfth Night. It was great. Then on thursday, Hugh calls me up and asks if I want to go see Wicked with him and some med school friends? Yeah, I do! The show was really, really good, which was great since I really disliked the book. Admittedly, the week was also filled with a buttload of housecleaning (they're starting to show our apartment- annoying), and stress, and work, and stupid everything-that's-going-on stuff, but at least I'm enjoying the moments in between.
Now, I should get off Hugh's computer, cause I totally snuck on in the first place (Hugh's asleep- I couldn't ask!), and I want to watch a Scrubs episode or two before I jet home. Mom and I have a lot to do this weekend, and I have to go mess up my room- it's really really clean, and that's freakin me out.

Forthing

Please to imagine a giant pendulum, upon which I cling tenuously, being pulled through the air. Yup, that is my life. I’m up, I’m down, I’m back, I’m forth. Have you ever forthed? It’s very tiring.

Okay, so at the last check point my mortgage app was dead in the water, and I was wrestling with yet another Change In Plans. Since then I had regained my even-keeledness on the subject, and was moving forward with the revived plan to rent an apartment, and was actually starting to like the idea, in all its simplicity and lemmingness. Especially since I discovered (online) a place that looks pretty darn good (again, I’ve only seen it online- I’m reserving final judgement).
You’ll notice I said I had regained my equilibrium (see, here’s where the forthing comes in).
So, I blog about the stuff that goes on (the more I need to wrap my head around it, the more I blog about it), and Lauren reads the blog o’ Bethany, and (as it turns out) shows said blog to boyfriend (who is big-time banker type; tres impressive), and I get an email; do I want banker friend extraordinaire to help with the on-its-last-legs mortgage app? HELL YES!
There was also an extended phone convo with the across-the-pond aunt, which culminated in the tentative plan to (finally) get me over there for a visit circa 2008. This most excellent news was forwarded to the best friend, which (telephone-style) was also passed along to the banker, though (again with the telephone reference- we’re referring to the game here, people), was wrongly interpreted. Apparently, the grapevine now has me moving to Ireland next year. Wrong-o, friends. Not quite yet.
Anyways, so that’s the gist of it. I find myself (once again) in the waiting game, trying to see what is going to end up happening to me, one way or the other. Mom did have a point, the other day, though; I won’t be ending up homeless. It’s a comforting thought.

Paraskevidekatriaphobia

It might be because it's Friday the 13th. It might be because of some cosmic convergence of the planets. All I know is, I don't know how much more of this upheaval I can take.
I had a plan. It was a plan thought up by my brother (which makes it reasonable), approved by my mother (which makes it comfortable), and which I had definitely started to feel good about. I'd get a mortgage, buy a condo, have a place to live when Mom moved away. It was a good plan; I was starting to look forward to having a place of my own, a place to live.
That was probably my mistake. I should know better than to feel confident about something like this, to start to think about doing things like buying chaise lounges.
I called my mortgage guy (again) today- he's a little hard to get hold of. Know what he told me? That because I'd only been at my job for ten months (as opposed to twelve), I can't get a mortgage. Basically, this means that I have to find some hole to live in for two measly months, not even bother to unpack my stuff, then apply for a mortgage all over again and move a second time in a three-month period.
This sucks.
I hate moving. Hate it. I moved six times in five years in university- it was supposed to stop when I graduated. I finished school, I have a real job, I live in a big city- what more do they want?
I'm at Hugh's right now- this is one of the first times I've blogged away from home. I'm just glad I went to see friends tonight instead of going home. I don't like saying that- Mom's leaving, and I should be all cuddly and taking advantage of her being around and stuff, but everything's so crazy and high-strung right now (with both of us) that at home I'm either going crazy getting buried in all this stuff, or else I'm holing myself up in my room trying to avoid it all. Neither of these is a good option.
I vented for Hugh for, like, two hours over dinner tonight. It helped- talking to my own private impartial parties always helps strighten things out- but there is only so much better this situation can get, I guess, which is probably why I'm still feeling the need to vent by blogging.
Anyways, I should get back to said friends. Besides, Hugh's laptop is hard to type on.

Book bitch

You know what's a bitch? Books. Books are a bitch to box up. Books are a bitch to move. Books make moving a bitch. Moving is a bitch with books. Moving is a bitch, and I'd rather just read a book. Ha!

A little scattered.

Wrote this at work (on my break)

There are napkins in my shoes, and it is very uncomfortable.
Today kind of sucks. Its raining out; the kind of raining that makes you think that nature has something against you, personally. My slacks are wet (as if having to wear slacks wasn’t bad enough), and my pretty shoes are squishy.
The brother was over again last night; he needed to send away a thing he sold on ebay, and Mom has all the packing tape. But I’ll get to that later.
I was surprised to see my bro cause he’d been over all weekend (it was Canadian Thanksgiving, for you ex-pats and non-pats and such). He came over on Friday and announced that he’d heard about the most amazing thing.

The brother: It’s a turkey that’s stuffed with a duck, that’s stuffed with a chicken!
Mom: I know what you’re talking about; it’s called ‘tofurkey’…wait, no that’s not right…
Bethany: Those are going to be some pissed-off vegetarians at your table, Mom.
Mom (laughing): Shut up, you always make fun of me! ‘Turducken’, it’s called ‘turducken’.
The brother: Well, then I want one of those for Thanksgiving- let’s have trefucken.
Mom: dies laughing.
Bethany: I have to get home and blog this.
Mom: Don’t blog this! You always make me look silly!

…Sorry, Mom.
I hope you all had a good Thanksgiving. Other than a big meal, my family (The brother, Mom, I and the Robins) got together and went to the movies. We saw ‘The U.S. vs. John Lennon’, which was very good.
I can’t seem to really grab on to any one subject today. Forgive me.
I said I’d come back to the packing tape thing. Packing tape, of course, refers to packing, which has begun. It’s official; my mother is moving across the country. I need to find me a new place to live. I don't know where that will be yet. And I'm working onthe money thing. I'm looking onto getting a condo, cause the prospect of renting is frankly depressing. Also, Mom and the bro are pretty convincing with how the whole money thing works (I never paid that much attention to it; I don't care for it, I never had, it's just not really who I am). So, I'm trusting them, and already told the brother that if something goes wrong with this plan, I'm moving in with him.

Now, I know there's a lot more to say, and my days are so busy (you have no idea how much is going on right now- changes upon changes, and we're trying to keep everything straight; that's impossible), but I'll try to blog again soon. Hopefully, more coherently. I'm not going to stop writing anytime soon, that's for sure.

I'll plant my tree in the middle of the spinning world

I kind of feel like the world around me is spinning really, really fast, and I'm standing in the middle of it, all still, just watching it speed past me. You know when you're in a car, and the scenery outside is moving, but you're not, and your eyes try to see what's out there, but you can only focus on one thing at a time, and so you miss things in between? I feel like that...
The fact that this is New Year is just terribly appropriate- new beginnings and whatnot.
By the way, I hope your new year is happy, and I wish you all the best. I got a really nice email from my Chicago cousin- we really ought to correspond more than we do.
I got the job; the one I mentioned before? I'm now a permanent employee of my company, with salary and benefts and real responsibilities and things. It's been a fast two weeks, learning the job, trying to get the hang of things, and trying to get everything that needs doing done, cause having to learn everything from scratch slows me down, so at the end of the day (even if I've learned a lot) I feel like I haven't accomplished much, because project-wise, I only finished one or two things. It's frustrating, but I'm coming along. And I'm really happy about the job thing.
And now I'm looking for my own place to live, which is this whole big thing, and kind of sudden, but that's because of something to do with the Mom I live with, and if she had a blog then you'd read about that there, but I won't put it down here. Suffice it to say, I need me a place to live.
I'll admit it was a little sooner than I anticipated (I know, I'm 25, and shouldn't be talking about STILL living with my mother), but I'd kind of been thinking that I'd have some 'saving up' time between getting the big job and moving-on-up. I think fate is holdning a rug and laughing at me on my ass. I'm okay with the moving out- I am- it's just a little sudden, and I'll admit, I'm not quick with the whole 'giant responsibility' thing. I'm processing.
So, we went out and looked at a few places, and I will say this; this is a bloody expensive city to live in. It kind of sucks. Really.
So, what I can afford is probably a bachelor apartment, an idea which I am not entirely comfortable with, and which, a week ago, I was dead-set against (there have been 'discussions' with Mom; I'm coming around). But I'm thinking now that if I can find something that is marginally more than a box, I might be able to do something with it. It's just the idea that if I invite someone over, I'm inviting them to my bedroom; that wigs me out.
On the other hand, I am liking the thought of having my own place. I told Mom some of my plans- I'm going to paint it blue and beige, there's a chaise lounge at Ikea I'll be buying, etc., and her comment was something along the lines 'aww, you're nesting', which I found rather distasteful and gross. I'm not laying a freaking egg, I just want my own damn house for the first time in my life (I'm almost 26, I figure it's about time).
So those are the two major things that have been chewing my brain, and a good reason why I haven't blogged in so long (a lot of the 'before' part of what I'm writing here had more to do with my mother than with me, so I was censored. BOO!)
There have been other things, though. Hugh's birthday is next week, and for it he wants to get a tattoo, which is something I have been thinging about (on and off, seriously and not) for years. Lauren, too, is up with this idea, and I wouldn't have been (Mom's pretty adamantly against them, her main argument being that when you get old, they sag and it's gross, and also, that you're doing something permanent to your skin that you might not want later.) My response to that is that a tattoo is something you get at one point in your life, and for the rest of your life, you can look at it and REMEMBER that point. Who cares if, when you're sixty, you're not the type of person who would go out and get a tattoo? You can look down at that whatever on your whatver and think of how, when you were 25, you were that type of person. Also, I kind of like the idea (warning, this is morbid) that when I die, and end up on some table in a morgue, that there will still be something there of me. It's like tying something of your self to your skin, which is otherwise kind of empty-vessel-like.
Anyways, like I said, despite all this, I wasn't really up for a tattoo, because I do work in a corporate world, so I'd like to be able to hide whatever I had on me, but I don't like the idea of tattoos that are in private places, because then if you want to show someone, you have to show your whatever, or else you can't show them at all. And I also don't like something like, on your back, because what's the point of getting something on your skin of you can't see it without a mirror and contortions? However, I've thought of the perfect place. It's private but not private, always hidden unless I don't want it so, and even if I was in the middle of the cafeteria at work, if I wanted to show someone, I could, and I wouldn't get fired. The only problem is, it would hurt a lot, and be really, really hard to heal. So, I have some thinking to do. I also have to settle on a design. I'm thinking a tree. Trees are permanence, they are roots, they are growth and life, they are solidity, knowledge, the balance of good and evil...they have a place in (just about) every religion, in every mythology. So, I'm thinking a tree. But, I'm open to suggestions.
There's more to write- we went to Rosh Hashona dinner last night with the Robins, and it was really nice, and their new place (yeah, everyone is moving) is great- oh! and my uncle gave me a piece of his artwork (he does wood carvings), and I am so jazzed about having one, this thing is awesome)...but I'm tired right now, and there's beading to be done. It's Sunday, and I have a great big day of bedsurfing planned. Wahoo.

Unintentionally wonderful

Forgive me; I wrote this blog on paper (old school) on the bus on the way home from work a couple of days ago...so, it's already out of date. But here you go, anyways.

I feel spun. Totally dizzy. Ever have a day that's just so beyond good- and none of it your own doing, like "I went to Disneyworld and thus had a good time", but an unintentionally great day, like "I tripped on a diamond on my way to work this morning" type of day. I just had one of those.
It started out normal. Then I got a call to go to one of the marketing managers' offices. We talked about a job for me. Then I talked to another mm- about a job for me. Then I talked to a third mm, who'd talked to an editor about me, for a job. Then I got called back to the first mm's office for a 'follow up', that included lines like "Your salary will be..." "You get full benefits and bonus...", and, "Your start date is..."
YAY!
Then, (like that's not enough), the prez of the division walked into my cubie at the end of the day, and asked me if I could help him with something. (This is a guy I never have contact with, he's so far above me. I didn't know he knew my name.) He leads me into his offie, sits down at his computer and says "I messed up my font, can you fix it?"
For a moment, the voice in my head is like, (dripping sarcasm) 'No, why would you think *I* could do that?' But then I saw what it was he'd done, and I totally fixed it. For the prez!
And I'll go on, cause there's just so many reasons why life is great right now. Like, guess what I'm typing this on right now? My new compy.
Yeah, the brother came over a couple of weeks ago and tried to reformat my computer, and it laughed at him and then lost it's brain. Within the same day, he had convinced me (and helped me) to order a brand-spankin-new computer! (You know my brother; the one who can talk a cat into water.) Now my new computer is here and it's wonderful! Its fast and un-bulky and shiny...I feel a little guilty, cause my old monitor was sort-of a birthday present from my aunt. But I used it and loved it well, plus it was kind of huge, and if I ever move my butt out of my mother's house, this new one will be much easier to move.
Also, last weekend the brother came over and he and Mom and I went kayaking, which I'd never done before, and it was very fun. Relaxing and natureful in the middle of Toronto; we saw herons and cormorants and ducks and minnows and dead carp and blackflies and lost tennis balls and shopping carts and a subway train. Then we went home and inhaled a pizza.
Anyways, I can think of a bunch more good things right now, but this is getting kind of long, and I've gotta go. Hope you're all doing great, too!

Life keeps getting in the way of beading

I don't really know why (it wasn't a deliberate act on my part), but in the past three weeks or so, every new jobn posting at work has looked really good to me- so I've applied. Its a good thing, ostensibly, except that three in three weeks (and all ther interviews are, like, now) is making it seem like I'm kind of eager to get out of there (except they're all positions within the company, so that's not exactly true). All I know is, work right now is busy, and therefore stressful, and I pretty much don't have time for all these interviews.
Except that they're a great excuse for buying new clothes. Which is great, except that my whole plans for yesterday were to park myself at this great beadstore I found (not as good as Deb's, but nothing is) and bead for hours at their 'free bead' session (basically just a bunch of beaders getting together). Its nice cause you get to meet new people, share techniques, show off your work, and get ideas for new stuff. But instead I got an interview scheduled for the next day, and had to forego beading in lieu of interview prep. Not that I'm complaining about having an interview- I just really wanted to bead.
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to get dressed- I have an interview!

Her as a mother can be an adventure

Know what's illegal in our building? Barbeques. Know what she has? A barbeque. Know what she did with it tonight? Made burgers. Then, an unintentional campfire, out of a bag of potting soil, that was next to...the propane tank! We finish our dinner, and she goes, "What's that smell?" Then, "Oh, shit", then, "Get me water!" "I need towels!"

Me: What did you do?
Her: I started a fire! Ssh!
Me: What do you mean, you started a fire, and also, 'ssh' does not logically follow the words 'I started a fire!'
Her: Just be quiet and get me water!

Yeah, so now I smell like a campfire (that has been put out, don't worry!), and she can't stop laughing about it.
"You know, I thought, when I put that stuff under the barbeque, that it might not be the best idea. I was right!" she says, and then accuses me of going off to blog in the middle of a crisis. The crisis was dealt with by the time I started this, though, and besides, as Lauren's blog states, Isaac Asimov once said, "If the doctor told me I had six minutes left to live...I'd type a little faster."

Long-awaited update (and it's not up-to-date!)

I have three types of mornings at work: there’s the bright, happy morning with work that involves activity, and a clock that goes extra fast. These mornings, I have an English muffin, if I remember and have time to go to the caf.

Then, there are quiet mornings, which involve the usual English muffin, and a cold pop or juice. It wakes you up, especially in warm summer days.

Then, there are hot chocolate mornings. Even in summer, they arrive. They’re the days better spent in bed, the days when, given the chance, you *might* have had a shower and got ready for the day…around three.

Monday (Today) was a hot chocolate morning.

I feel I need to recover from the weekend. We went camping, though honestly that doesn’t really cover what we did and why it left me feeling roadkillesque.

There was the trek to Orangeville, to Laur and Kev’s shiny-new grown-up residence (have I mentioned that?), which in itself is a marathon of public transportation: a bus, a subway, a train, an inter-city bus, and then a car ride. We met Hugh at their place (he’s just made purchase of his first motorcycle, and wanted the practice the drive up would give him). Dinner, then a bunch of laying around, including a movie. Late night.

Saturday morning saw us moving slug-like, until we got on the road (oneish?) and drove two hours to the campground. The site was nice- trees and everything- but this was pretty bare-bones camping on our part- we had a tent. And that was about it, in terms of camping gear.

We bought a pie-iron. Know what that is? It’s an iron square, that flips open and fits two slices of bread and filling in it. You put it in the fire and it makes pie-like concoctions. Think rustic sandwich-maker. We had grilled cheese for two days!

That night we went down to the beach around midnight. It was incredible- I don’t really think of myself as a city girl, but I certainly felt like one then. There were so many stars! I forgot that you can actually see the Milky Way. Now I remember.

Sleeping was…well, is camping sleep ever very good? Use your imaginations.

And then there was a day on the beach (mucho sun), and a LONG way home, with A&W for dinner. Not the best choice, but we wanted something fast and…fast.

The upshot? I don’t want to eat anything but salad for a week.

There’s a way to blog through email. I have to look into that. I keep thinking about stuff that happens and thinking “I’ll blog that”, and then I get distracted, or busy, or whatever, and forget about it. And then I feel guilty, which is not something I want from my blog.

This has been one busy summer, but it has definitely been a summer (there have been years when the friends we so spread out that we rarely (if ever) saw each other, and the only thing (it felt like) I did was work. Those were not summers. Those were days with a hot commute, and you enjoy none of it. But this summer is good, with beach days and 48 hour parties and, believe it or not, baseball games (the brother took me! It was fun).



But that doesn’t mean that this summer’s been nothing but wildness. Work is okay. They put me back down to part-time hours (for budget reasons; I’m still doing well there). I don’t like the lack of hours to get stuff done, and I’m definitely disappointed with the less money thing, but I’m not really railing against the ‘Fridays off’ thing as much as I could be. As for the whole deal with doing something other than being an intern? Well, as most already know, it’s pretty obvious I never went for that Calgary thing; it just wasn’t right, either the timing or the place or something amorphous and ephemeral that I couldn’t put my finger on, but that was there. My instincts haven’t steered me wrong before, so I trust them.

I have, however, put my name in the hat for another position. In BC.

Yeah, I know. I doubt I’ll get it- there’s lots of competition to go out there, and I’ve got to be the most inexperienced applicant there is, but once I thought about applying for it, things just kind of rolled that way, which is usually a good sign for me. Mom went out there last year, and when she came back all she said was “You’d love it out there; it’s where you belong.”

Princess and the pea

Today, I spent more money, in one day, than I ever have before in my life.
No, seriously- I've paid for places to live that cost me less than what I spent today.
I had to call the bank and get them to raise my limit (for the record, the bank is very helpful with that, and quick too!)
I bought a bed. And shoes, but the big thing was the bed.
Hooray, I have a new bed! It's gigantic and fluffy and brand-spankin-new and mine-all-mine and I'm happy and proud (and a little jittery about spending lots of my money, cause it's kind of precious stuff, and I don't have oodles of it).
But I'm glad I did it.
Bed shopping has got to be one of the most rediculous things you can do in public, legally.
You just walk into the middle of a store and lie down repeatedly. You bounce and you twist, and you make Odalisque poses and you say things like "Mushy isn't good, but I like the one with the bumpies" or "This one is too sinkey", while Mom prattles on about back support. Forget back support; I'm sleeping on cloud nine! (Maybe I'll name my new bed that, get a little sign for it...)
And the cats'll be happy.
Too bad I can't just put a kaibosh (sp?) on all spenditures from now on to let my wallet recover; I've gotta buy new sheets! And covers, and pillow cases, and more pillows...
And I think I'm going to get out my green beads, and bead myself a little green pea, to put underneath the mattress- for luck.

The world is one intimidating oyster

Okay, so I just (read: Tuesday evening) got back from a business trip to Montreal that my company sent me on. Yes, yes, it’s terribly cool that an intern got flown to Montreal, put up in one swank of a hotel (I’ve decided that swank can be a noun if I want it to), and wined-and-dined on the company dollar.

Speaking of which, man, was that food good. Montrealers and business people sure do know how to eat! Even the wine was good, and for me, that’s saying something.

But the thing to pay attention to here is, I was eating with the big businessman, namely my boss’s boss, the VP of marketing.

And what did we talk about? Well, among other things, what I was going to do post-internship.

Now, it isn’t like this snuck up on me. I knew this dinner would happen, I knew this is what we would talk about. I even knew what I was going to say.

See, my boss is a coordinator. She’s already said that I’m working ‘above an intern; you’re doing the job of a coordinator’. And frankly, that suits me just fine. My ideal was, come end-of-internship, change my title, and my pay, and leave everything else alone. I can be Bethany the marketing coordinator, in my familiar desk with the good locale, doing the job I know, and am good at, and like.

So this is what I say. I say, “I like marketing. I’d like to stay.”

And he says “What about sales?”

I try to say no politely. I think I need practice with saying no politely. Not that I wasn’t polite. I said something about wanting to be stationary for a while, having not had roots (or, for that matter, even my own pot of soil) for, like, ever. (If you follow my metaphor, that is. Lauren says I use too many of these, and that they’re often incomprehensible. She claims the need for a metaphortress to guard herself in.)

But yeah, so I’m like, ‘sales isn’t for me’, in different words, of course.

But see, my boss, he’s a salesman. And I think he kind of wants to sell me on sales. So he starts ‘selling’. (And it goes without saying how cool it is to have the big boss trying to talk you into a position.)

The money- wow.

The perks- wow.

The moving to somewhere I’ve never been- wow.

The never being home- ow.

The stress- ow.

And yes, I’m, as I said myself, fairly rootless. And it’s true that I own, like, next to nothing, and could pick up an move with about 30 seconds’ thought. But do I want to? I don’t really feel done with Toronto yet.

And sales sounds (and as far as I can tell, is) fairly exciting. But do I like exciting that much?

It may paint me with the fuddy-duddy brush to say so, but I kind of like the quiet life. I like sitting in front of the television and beading for hours. I like laying about on a Sunday with nothing to do, cause you’ve got time to do those errands later. I like staying in bed long hours after waking up, with the very very good excuse that I’m doing it ‘because I can’.

On the other hand, debt has a stress all its own. And sales is (pretty undoubtedly) where the money is. It would be good to get rid of those student loans before I hit my forties.

And it’s pretty damn cool to have my boss’s boss talking to me about moving not just into a full time place in the company, but way up there on the chain. You know what sales reps who are done being out in the field do? They become marketing managers. And marketing managers become VP’s. And then they do whatever they want, cause they’re just that impressive.

And yet, and yet.

There’s still the thought of Britain that haunts me (literally like a spectre of a Union Jack that floats though my brain at odd moments). If I’m so rootless that sales seems such a possibility, then why do I hesitate with the idea of moving over there? Well, for one, it feels like I’d be abandoning my student loan, which is ridiculous and I know it, I could pay that from England just as easily as I could from here, but part of me still wants to feel FREE…

And I haven’t even tried editorial yet. I don’t want to do another internship after this one, really, I’m ready for the real-thing job now, but going into sales means going for that whole marketing career thing, and I’m still not sure I want that.

Also, I wonder what happened to the trade dream? (Real lit books, like you find in Chapters, not textbooks). That’s what I got into publishing for, wasn’t it? And, if I don’t even try to go there, am I following the money? That’s not like me…

See, I knew I was looped on this subject, and now I’m sitting here typing endlessly, and it’s painfully obvious how looped I am.

And there’s more. I was about to type that I need to talk to Lauren to help me figure all this out (she’s a touchstone), but she and Kev are leaving for the tropics in a couple of days. Good for them, but now I’m thinking of how Laur’s leaving for Australia in a remarkably short time, and that’s just one less root I have holding me..anywhere.

Mom’s the same.

Heck, Kev doesn’t even live in this city, and Hugh’s busy all the time and that’s only going to get worse. The few times he does get off, he likes to go traveling- I’d probably see more of him if he was coming to visit me somewhere else than if we were still living in the same city.

So it comes down to a position, that pays well, comes with som e damn good perks, on my very own silver platter...but, with a lifestyle that I'm not sure is what I want, with a lot of risk of nothing going the least bit well, and with a choice that doesn't really feel like mine.
The world is my oyster, but I don't even know if I like oysters.

Contacts, contact, cat, and coat

I can’t decide whether this is a good thing or a bad thing; you wear glasses every single day, and it’s fine. Then one day (for very little reason), you wear contacts…and nobody notices. What I can’t decide is, does that mean your glasses are particularly good, that they allow your face to be focused upon and don’t distract others, or is it bad, that your frames do nothing for you? Would it be better to keep wearing them, since the added hassle of contacts seems to hardly be worth it, if wearing the contacts makes so little difference?
I can’t decide whether to feel pleased or put out.

That was yesterday. Yesterday was also the day that Mom and I had the brother over for dinner (breakfast for dinner; ham and eggs and hashbrowns and beans…mmm…). I should mention (so that this makes sense), that for the lazy everyday, Mom and I eat at the coffee table in the living room, in front of the tv (yeah, we’re unmannered plebes- bite me). And three around that table is a lot more crowded than two. Result? My plate sliding off the beveled edge and flipping over before hitting the floor. Do you have any idea how much mess that makes? Or how disappointing that is? It started out so tasty…
And then my snobby-assed cat stuck his nose up at it. We tried six times, he was disinterested. He stole the leftover ham off Mom’s plate and attacked that, he licked the brother’s plate clean. He wouldn’t touch mine. Jerk.

And we spent the night talking about what was new, including the plans Mom has to go back out west at the end of the summer. She keeps being so conflicted; she so excited about going, but at the same time she keeps stopping herself and saying ‘but this can’t continue this way…’ I get her conflictedness, cause she’s right, but she’s happy too. So boo to confusion, do what feels good (my everlasting philosophy).

Speaking of doing what is good and not always ideal, I bought (another) coat. Long ago (read: highschool), I had an addiction to buying coats that was less than good. I think I had five. Or six. For one season.
Anyway, I broke myself of that habit, mainly by refusing to buy a coat, any coat, for, like, a couple of years. And by then none of the old ones fit, but I was averse to buying a new one, and then it was a chore…
I’ve wandered off track here. My story is, I needed (desperately) a coat for spring, and couldn’t find anything nice or well-fitting. I didn’t think my demands were that bad- I didn’t want black, I didn’t want a trench, I didn’t want a belt, and I didn’t want to pay more than a certain amount (a big certain amount; I was frustrated, and that drives up what I’m willing to pay) for it. (This was weeks ago, btw). What did I end up getting? A short, black, trench with a belt. That I like ok. It did the job.
And now the weather is gorgeous, with tons of sun, and every afternoon is so hot that you can’t wear a coat. A coat is definitely no longer what I need.
So, of course, I found a beautiful, perfect, everything-I-wanted coat, and (unwisely, pointlessly, foolishly, indulgently) bought it. I love it. It’s green and white and long…it looks a little more like a Lauren coat than a me coat, and I want her to try it on, but she can’t have it.
It’s mine, as impractical as it is. And it will stay in that closet as long as it bloody-well has to, until I get to wear it. Even if I am forty by then.

Oh joyous day, kaloo, kalay!

My shopping drought seems to be over! I’ve been to three malls in three days, and I’ve got a ton a great stuff (purses and skirts and hats, oh my!). I adore spending money. Hard-earned money that I’ve willingly given up (from Vivah) to spare myself further aggravation. Yes, folks, as of a week today, my tenure at the jewelry store is through. Huzzah!
Actually, everyone’s had a good week this week. Lauren got accepted to teacher’s college, and has decided to fly away to Australia for a year, come February (cry, cry), and her program includes a short practical placement in Africa, which just couldn’t be any cooler (Bite your tongue- I can hear that bad pun about the weather in Africa that you’re dying to give voice to. Squash the voice, lest ye be judged, and found nerdly.)
Also, Laur recently did a job (she works for a company that does graphic design for ads and stuff) for the Royal Ontario Museum, for some symposium thingie on dining (of all things), and they gave her free tickets to the first night of the symposium, and she took me, and the keynote speaker turned out to be one of my old art history profs from Mac! She did a lecture on dining in the Roman ages, complete with slides, that was exactly like being back at school. It was very neat.
And Hugh and Lisa were (very randomly) offered a free movie at one of the most expensive Silvercity’s (great big movie theatre) in the city, and it was all about gymnastics (Lisa’s a gymnast, so- appropriate!), and Mom and I (after one good shopping blitz on Friday after work) went out for dinner, where we got great service from a cute waiter, who gave us three entrees (Mom’s first one was disappointing), and then they asked us some questions and gave us everything for free (how cool is that?).

And other big things have been happening. Jerry recently visited. I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned Jerry, or maybe I have, but only in passing. See, the whole Jerry thing started right around the time that Mom was getting all up-in-arms over my putting stuff about her on here, and I was pretty sure I’d lose my head if I mentioned him online, so I trod lightly.
But here come the stompin’ boots!
Okay, so for the record… Jerry and Mom dated in highschool (think flowerpower), and then left their hometown and went separate ways. This was forever ago, and now they’re back together. It’s a totally strange, but kind of simple-in-a-full-circle kind of way. Meh. She’s happy, the details are moo (a cow’s opinion).
And he came to visit! (This is a big deal- Jerry lives on the other side of the country, and hey, it’s a big country.) He was nervous about meeting the brother- that was cute. And he’s, like, freaky smart. He’s a good guy. (Jerry, don’t let this go to your head, though).
So, Mom was all ridiculous for a couple of weeks (lol). It sounds like they had a good time.
And what has she done since he left? She cut off all her hair. (Had it cut off by a stylist, that is. It wasn’t some freaky scissor-fest a la Royal Tenenbaums). Very risky, but I think it’s good.

What else is new? OH! Work is totally awesome (at the publishing place). They’re sending me to Montreal! I get to go to fly up all by myself (I sound like a four year old when I say that, don’t I?), and go to a conference, and have dinner with the boss and stuff! Plus, I got to book my own flight times, so I totally get some free time, which is cool cause I’ve never been to Montreal, and the company is paying (but it’s not like I’m doing anything wrong or anything- they approved it!). I’m so freakin’ excited!

Anyways, I think that’s all I can think of for now. I’ve been checking out this site called the Brick Testament that Jerry told me about, but honestly I have yet to get through it, or form a solid opinion of it, so I’ll hold off comment till later. Hope everyone’s week’s been good like ours, even if it rained.

The winds of change are a-blowin’

I’m going to quit my job at the jewelry store, I think.

I’m pretty sure.

I’ll know by Saturday.

I hate it there. I ranted to Lauren, wanna see?



God, I hope you check your email today.
I have been thinking, for three days, of quitting my job (at Vivah). I'm sick of their corporate bs, managers who don't know what 'management' means (or 'corporate responsibility', or 'responsibility' at all, or 'equality'...)
And the pay sucks ass and I'm barely making anything there and I'm sick of it.
But, it's not like my internship is stable or long-lasting or secure or anything. And I liked having a backup.
But then, jobs like the jewelry store are all over the place, and if I really needed another I could probably find one really easily, in a better mall, with a better company.
At the very least, it couldn't be worse.
Yeah, I know I haven't asked you anything yet, and I'm not really looking for you to tell me what to do here. I know this is my decision- I'm just working through it, I guess.
But the thing is, I have a shift on saturday, and theres some bs 'staff meeting' during it (and it's a good thing I'm aready scheduled, cause if I had to come in for that on my own time...), and the manager will be there, and I'm really thinking it's the best time to hand her my letter of resignation. I don't know why I have this feeling of 'now or never', but I do.
And I have no idea what to do. The fact that this job isn't a lot of effort is still true...but everyone else moves on, and I'm the only one who hasn't, and it's rediculous that I'm working at an internship that pays a third more than the manager makes at Vivah, and I'm still dealing with their crap.
And I know I'm rambling.
I've never left a job for a reason other than I was moving away for school. Except once, I left the ice cream place for Nordia. But that was a lot more money, and a permanent job, and a long time ago, when the only thing my money was going towards was candy and magazines.
Now I have bills and stuff.
Am I asking you for backbone? Is that what this email is about?
See, even I don't know.



Yeah, so that’s what I ranted to Lauren. And it’s true, about my ‘now or never’ feeling. I’m not sure where this idea came from, but I just know that if I’m not done with that place, officially, by Saturday, that I just won’t leave.

I want to leave, that much of my scattered thoughts have been nailed down. And I’m really not getting anything out of it anymore. And I’ve been there longer than anyone else, and my sales are good, but they neither notice, nor care.

My manager is nineteen, and was hired as a seller four months ago. And they made her a manager. I can't even ask for a reccomendation from that place because there's no one whose been there as long as I have, and no one I'd want one from anyways. Heck, I'm the oldest one there!

Mom says (truthfully and rightly) (is rightly a word?) that jobs like that are a dime a dozen. If I need another one later I can get one.

Hopefully I won’t have to. I love my publishing job, and want to stay in it (or at least have the option to) for the next thirty years.

But as for the jewelry store? Stick a fork in me, I’m done.

No guilt (gilt, gelt...)

Gosh, it's been an eternity since I've blogged, and I hate feeling guilty about something that I actually really like doing. On the other hand, I'm aware of the fact that last year I would be writing almost every other day, and that averything that happened would have me working out phrasing in my head, itching for my keyboard. I think it's similar to a diary or journal; I have several of those, and I make a point of never feeling guilty about not writing in them, because I figure you write, especially about your life, when you need to (or at least, I do). That doesn't mean that when I write it's always a bad time, it's just a time when there's a lot going on, either in the world or in my head, and I need to get stuff down. But it still bugs me that I'm not blogging as much as I did. And it's a waste of time to promise to try and do better. I'll write when I write, I guess.

Stuff has been happening, though.
My job is going very well. I'm still an intern, but they've increased me to full-time hours (have I mentioned this already?), and they seem to like me and really like my work. They let me write the back cover copy (that info about the book that's on the back? Yeah, that.) And I got to make some marketing materials that were professionally designed and sent out, too...it sounds lame because it is, but it's still neat for me to be doing this stuff. For me it is, anyway.

And home is good. My room is cleaner than it's been in a while (still trying to figure out how that happened), and Mom's happy (I made juice come out her nose the other day). My aunt had a scare recently, but it sounds like everything is going to be fine (knock on wood) (do only Christians do that?). And I have been writing (just not here) (chagrin). Lauren and I had wanted to take a writing class, but neither of us had the money, so we decided to be independent together. We're both writing (or making an effort to), and evaluating and editing each other's stuff (we've done this for each other off-and-on for years, so we're really comfortable discussing our stuff with each other). It's interesting what comes out of it (even if Laur's stuff far outdoes my own- I love editing anyways), and it's good to be... not forced, but pushed into writing something, especially at a time when the words aren't really flowing (nor the impetus to make them do so). She makes me write something, which is good.

Tonight was fun. Laur came over and them the brother and Shad (his roommate) showed up, and Mom made a chicken and we all had dinner. We played Scrabble, and there must be a blue moon out tonight or something because (Laur's going to kill me for writing this) the boys won. Wow, that hurt to admit. It was the first time Shad had ever played (ooh, beginner's luck, that must have been the strange power affecting our game!), and my brother's first time winning. Good for you, bro. And Kevin showed up in time for pie. It was fun, but I think I'm going to buy Cranium sometime this week, cause it'll be better to have more to choose from than just Scrabble, and besides, that's the best game there is anyways.

And it'll be good to set out to buy something and actually be able to. My aunt Mer send me this great magnet: "There is money. Spend it, spend it; spend more;" from Merry Wives of Windsor, and my message to her is this: I'm trying! In three weeks I've been through (through, not to) four malls, and I have yet to make a purchase. The options out there suck right now. All I'm saying is, things had better improve, and soon, or so help me... (shakes fist)...

And here I shall end my tirade of the inconsequential, for though there's more to say, this is neither the time, nor the place. I will be back; I always am, and if I see you to your face before my words are updated here again (that Wives quote hath affected me), then I'll have much to say. Goodnight!

A/N: I may have lost that Scrabble game, but I am not completely shamefaced. The words cited and jaded (not to mention finery)were mine, they just didn't get into very good scoring places. So there. Yeah, yeah, I made the word pie, too, but whose counting? Hun?

Cold roses

Life is fucking fantastic.
I got a great job. It's and internship, and it's paid, and after just UNDER a month working there, they're promoting me to full-time. Not permanent, still an intern. But a FULL TIME intern. Yeah, I rock, and soon I will rule.

And, I'm still bumming it at the jewelry store on evenings and weekends, which makes me a tired girl, but also, hopefully, a rich one. (Not gonna happen.)

I love the office. I have office clothes and office shoes, and office people. They could market little plastic dolls of me; 'Corporate Bethany', new version on shelves today!, which is a thought I haven't had since my firends took me skiing last year, and 'Ski Bunny Bethany' made her first appearance. And even if I feel a little like a tigre wearing stripes when I'm there, they seem to like my spotted tigre. Did I mention I was getting promoted?

And all around me, people are UP! The brother just got a raise (way to go, and tres impressive, little brother), Laurie's made the decision to Teacher's College in New Zealand, the heavy that Hugh was dealing with turned out a little more perfect than anyone could have predicted, and during a slew (sp?) of birthdays (Laur, me, Kev in less than a week), I've actually got the chance to SEE MY FRIENDS, in the SAME ROOM, at the SAME TIME.
It really, really sucks that at this point in my life, that line is actually worthy of capital letters.

"What did you get for your birthday?" I hear you ask.
Boots, a little over three months ago. And a LOT of food, and a gift certificate that I haven't spent yet, tyvm. I was terribly pleased, and bloated. Three gourmet dinners in the space of about five days, and you'd swear you'll never eat again (except there's always room for chocolate).

Anyways, I get to hear about my promotion on Monday, get to go shopping with Laurie (hopefully) tomorrow (and it won't be a bust, like the last time), and I'm writing again, and things are coming up roses. Cold roses- it's snowing again.

Checkin in

I got a job (watch me do a jig). No, actually, I celebrated my job the BEST way (note for readers: "BEST" is to be read dripping with sarcasm); I got a job the same day I got a cold. A really nasty cold. Trust me, the best way to prepare for your first career-type impressive office job does not involve cold meds and tons of tissue. Not to say that I didn't go out shopping for new clothes...three times...

So, that's my big news, and what has been taking up my time for the past while. I start tomorrow, which I'm bot excited and nervous about. I hate the fact that I have to wake up at 6am. I really, really resent mornings. But hopefully all will go well- I'll tell you all about it later.

Other than that, nothing huge has happened lately. I got together with Lauren a couple of times this week, which is always nice- she's talking about doing teacher's college again. There was a time that that was my plan, too- now I'm glad I didn't do it. I knew back then that it wasn't for me.

I voted! It's not something I've done for a long time- I always felt really sheltered while I was at University- it was such a bubble of a world- that I didn't feel confident in making that kind of decision. Now I do. Not that it helped much. Anyone know I nice, quiet country I can move to for a few years?

And at some point, I HAVE to get back to Hamilton. I was talking to Shesh the other day (friend from Mac and my old job), and she totally (justifiably) got on my case for not being around. I want to plan one good weekend, where I can go, see Shesh, see Mark, visit the toy store, spend all my money at the bead store (MAN, do I miss that place), and eat at Mai Thai. I've eaten Thai food in countless locations by now, and that place is still, hands down, the best. If you live in Hamilton, GO THERE, it's on John I think. You must have the Cashew Chicken. Bet you're hungry now, hun?

Okay, so this blog was a little more scattered than most, but at least I got some words in. I would like to take a brief opportunity to send out a 'Hey ya' to my aunt, who has made me jealous by discovering the ferret tree (watch the newest Harry Potter movie again, you'll see it).

Now, I have to get to bed- I have a big day tomorrow.