>
Or how about a vintage Talking
Ken doll? I can think of a million things he can
say in addition to "Let's go to the big game tonight."
Too many jokes can be made here. I will refrain.
>
New blog to read: Suburban
Bliss. Rarely do I find a new blog that makes it
straight into my bookmarks.
>
Parents will truly understand the beauty that is Parenting
Bingo.
>
Commit random acts of mail! Sign up for postcardX.
>
Question for Santa, is $34.00 too much to spend on body
lotion? I am fairly certain I would pay that much
for something with marshmallow infusion. Dee-lish.
And if you happened to bring me some for Christmas Santa,
I wouldn't say no.
My
daughter just instructed me not to make funny faces
at the table otherwise food may come out of her mouth.
Who's
the parent here, I wonder.
<monday
december 22, 2003 - 12:30 p.m.>
Christmas
week... and I still have a hundred things I need to
do. The one thing I already have well underway: the
bingefest that surrounds this holiday season.
This
weekend consisted of two parties... two events where
I was unable to move myself away from tables groaning
under the weight of cookies and other various snack
items.
I
did discover something really tasty: fresh sugared cranberries.
Yum!
I
hope someone gives me a pair of XL sweatpants with a
drawstring waistband for Christmas.
<thursday
december 18, 2003 - 8:37 p.m.>
Must...
not.. procrastinate and spend any more with time with
Mr.Picassohead.
Dear
Cindy -
Thanks for calling last night. Sorry we didn't get to
chat. I'm not sure when it was that you called, but
I was probably doing one of the following when you left
your message:
Driving down the Queensway in a moderately blinding
snowfall. Ah, the things we risk in order to complete
our Christmas shopping…
Pushing
an annoyingly squeaky cart around Ikea. Not only was
it squeaky, it was wet, the handlebar was frozen, and
one of the wheels refused to follow the lead of the
others. Are these 'special' carts reserved only for
me?
Going
the wrong way, that is, against the intended traffic
flow in Ikea, as I had to backtrack from the Children's
section all the way back to Lighting just to get a lightbulb
for a kiddy lamp. I overheard other customers grumbling
at me. Do I need a license to push one of those carts
or something? No? Well leave me alone.
Fighting
those pushy "crafty" folks at Michael's, many
of whom were digging through discount racks of Christmas
ornaments in a rather scary and possessed manner.
Ditto
for wreaths and faux garlands, several of which slid
off the overloaded rack and on top of me.
Slogging
around Bayshore Shopping Centre, feeling most weary
and in need of snacks, a glass of Irish Cream, hugs,
and better pair of shoes at an hour when most people
are watching the evening news or getting ready for bed.
Handing
over my credit card, again and again and again. After
awhile my signature began to look like someone else's.
I hope that isn't a problem.
Trying
to avoid looking at that cute pink fuzzy sweater at
the Gap, and telling myself that I'm not shopping for
ME, but shopping for OTHERS.
Assembling
a new Ikea floor lamp on the living room floor. Sorry,
but I may not have heard the phone over my cursing.
Spilling
my beer during aforementioned assembly. (It's funny,
isn't it, I just realized that assembling Ikea furniture
is something you can only do with some kind of alcoholic
beverage in your hand. It just wouldn't be right without
it.)
Basking
in the glow of the aforementioned lamp, which has transformed
our living room into something slightly less cavernous.
So dear Cindy, there you have it. All this to say that
I would have preferred to talk to you on the phone rather
than do any of the above. :)
So dear Cindy, there you have it. All this to say that
I would have preferred to talk to you on the phone rather
than do any of the above. :)
