Drunk on a triple word score.

I think I'm still recovering from this fever/headache thing. I did manage to haul my ass into work today, but I took a nap from 6:30pm - 8pm only to be awoken by a rude telemarketer from Carriage House who refused to give me her home phone number so I could call her at home while she was eating dinner with her family. Not that I was eating dinner, but you get the point. Bitch (her, not me). Then, making matters worse, I discovered that not only is the O.C. not on tonight, but ER is a rerun. Wtf? I don't ask for much, just a little guaranteed Thursday night TV. These networks show no loyalty. Scott won rights to the big tv tonight, so he upstairs playing the new Fight Night playstation game, and even I will admit that it is pretty cool...for a boxing game.
As promised, I have proof that Scott and Jennifer did play scrabble to the death on Saturday and they may have ingested several "pops" as captured in this photo.

I was the score keeper, and it appears at the time the picture of me was taken (why am I so shiny?) that Jennifer was in the lead, and I was half in the bag. I do believe that Scott was the winner of game one, and Jennifer rallied to win game two (a thumping from what I understand). Tomorrow Scott and I are going over to the Domestic Goddess's house for dessert and a Raptors game and we will finally get to meet her, her husband, and her kitty Jasmine face to face/whisker to whisker. I promise to blog about this and take pictures, as this is an important occurrence in the history of the Fickle Feline Blog.

I'm a slaaaaaaaave for you.

I woke up this morning to the sound of a car alarm going off outside my bedroom window. That was great, especially since I have had a headache for the past two days and the alarm continued honking for over an hour. Good times. Makes me even more cranky, which leads to me being judgmental. Britney Spears is such a fucking car wreck, and once again I can't look away. I look at her and all I can think is "you poor, stupid, uneducated girl. Why would you want to marry someone who is willing to leave his pregnant wife baby mama and child for you? Do you really want that type of man? I mean, how will you feel when he does this to you?" It looks to me, from this picture, that Tony Pierce is right and Britbot is in fact 'expecting'. I suppose that at least when her wankster of a husband deserts her and moves to Vegas to live off of whatever they agreed to in their prenup she will have her millions of dollars to wipe away her tears with. It could be worse, she could be trashy and broke, instead of trashy and loaded. If I were Justin Timberlake, I would be feeling mighty relieved that I didn't end up tied to this crazy girl. If I were Christina Aguilera, I'd be all "yeah, look at you now - - HAHAHAHAHAHA".

If they want to drink Merlot, we're drinking Merlot.

I feel like I am a little late to the party as Jennifer and Adrianne have both already blogged about this weekend. Ah well, I suppose the fact that I have managed to sleep for approximately for 20 of the last 24 hours is a reasonable excuse (thanks in advance to everyone at the xbi who came to work sick passing it on to me).

Jennifer arrived on Friday and we immediately fell into our typical comfortable rolling conversation that includes:

- reminding each other of crazy things from our childhood
- lovingly mocking our mutual "Scotts"
- sympathizing about our outlaws
- discussing how fat my cat Bossa has gotten and how Jennifer's 2 cats and 2 dogs are getting along

She tells no lies when she says that we had some kickass Japanese food in the stripmall by my house, though the definite highlight of my weekend was going to the spa on Saturday for manicures and pedicures. She picked "You Ottaware Purple" for her toes, I picked "SoHo Nice to Meet You" for mine. Being the sensible ladies we are, we both opted for clear polish on our fingers (it infuriates me when I get colour polish on my fingers and then it chips within a day).

On Saturday night, Scott took us to see the movie Sideways. Loved it. Everything about it. Especially the part where he says that he is not going to drink any "fucking Merlot". Brings to mind the Martini party we went to at Joe and Kevin's house where Scott's coworkers were all drunkenly discussing how "pedestrian" Merlot is. Ummm....okay. Not sure when all you superstar office workers became wine sommeliers, but whatev. I have been trying to branch out and try new things as of late, but I tend to fall back on my favourites, Cavespring's Gamay and Riesling. That's some good stuff (according to my semi-educated taste buds), and you like what you like, I'm not here to judge.

Jennifer and Scott proceeded to have a Scrabble-athon until 4am (picture to come). I kept score for the first game and called it a night just before 2am...it is nice to know that my bestfriend and my husband get along that well, both of them being word nerdlings. Our scrabble board was stored in a musty closet, so it saw its last game (Scott threw it out the next day). I am sure it will be replaced by Jennifer's next visit. I think they still have a game to play in their best-of-three series as they are currently tied at a game a piece.

On Sunday morning, Jennifer and I headed downtown to meet the lovely Adrianne for brunch. I hereby confirm that she is just as funny in real life as she is on her blog. We three fabulous ladies then proceeded to get our shop on, (amazingly enough there were a lot of stores open on Queen West on Easter Sunday). Jennifer introduced me to American Apparel, and I am now in love. I bought the most perfect black t-shirt ever (one that hugs my curves and doesn't fit like a bag). I also went to Peach Berserk and was fitted by the famous Kingi for a custom made shirt - more on this later as it deserves its own blog entry.

After a busy morning, I rushed home to put on an Easter dinner spread for Scott's folks and his brother Chris. A hit, I think. Woke up Monday morning a little hung over and a lot sick and I am still recovering.

You Must Believe In Spring.

I'm beginning to doubt that spring is coming...this winter weather is wearing me down. Seriously, it is almost April...wtf? The Easter Bunny is going to need snow shoes at this rate. Regardless, I do feel like I am coming out of hibernation....the next few weeks are going to busy.

Jennifer is coming to visit this weekend. We are going to the spa for manicures and pedicures tomorrow.

Also, we are going to have brunch with Adrianne on Sunday.

I believe Chris is coming over for Easter dinner.
Stephanie thinks her baby is going to arrive this weekend (early!).

Domestic Goddess invited us over for dessert on April Fool's Day. (I'll finally be able to move her up to my "Blogs: People I Know" list).

Scott and I are going to see the Raptors play Vince at the ACC with Solitaire, Domestic Goddess and her hubby and countless others.

We're having a joint 30th birthday party and Alex, Cathy, Raye, and Chris will be joining us.

And it looks like the snow is finally starting to melt...

Miscommunication Leads to Complications.

It's interesting how sometimes you can be having a conversation, and unbeknownst to you, the other person is having a sidebar conversation in their head (I am the QUEEN of sidebar conversations and non-sequiturs, don't even front). Last night Scott and I were discussing his general discontent with his current employment situation. I was trying to point out that at one point he was actually really happy there and I said "It was good for a while". I should point out, that right before that, I had asked Scott to come hang out with me (if you know what I mean and I think you do) and he had responded that he couldn't as he had work to do. So, when I said "It was good for a while" I guess he was feeling bad about telling me no, so he got all upset and sad looking. And I'm looking at him like, dude, what is the big deal? And he is all stumbling and looking SO SAD and I kind of realized, maybe he took this the wrong way...so I clarified "I mean, your job, your job was good for a while". And we both started laughing, though I think he looked pretty sad and he said "I thought you meant our marriage was good for a while". HAHAHAHAHA. Like him being bummed out about work would affect our marriage. Says he to the woman who got laid off 2 weeks after our honeymoon and spent the next 3 months in what my best friend Jennifer refers to as "the boozey period". We have been through so much, a job will never phase me, like it or not.

Don't ask me for $$ when I'm trying to buy booze (and don't call me Ma'am!).

I don't like being asked for money. Not via the phone (which I rarely answer anyway), or a stranger knocking at my front door (which I rarely answer anyway), or at the grocery store check line ("would you like to donate $2 for MS research?"), or through work affiliated charity giving (you want to take MORE money off my paycheque??), and ESPECIALLY not when I am trying to enter the LCBO.

Scene: Kat, after completing the weekly grocery shopping decides to go to the LCBO to buy some girl-drink-drunk-coolers and some staple-of-the-house-Canadian Club. The doorway of the LCBO is crowded with no less than seven women and their daughters plus their accompanying signs, pink balloons, pink ribbons and hands extended outward towards innocent unassuming customers.

Kat's Inner Dialogue: "Fuckshitcuntwhorecocksuckerandtits - I really need to buy booze and there is no way around these bitches".

Soccer Mom: "Would you like to support us in our breast cancer walkathon? We're walking 60 kilometres!"

Soccer Mom's Inner Dialogue: "Certainly, if you have money to buy booze, you can afford to give us a little money."

Kat: (attempting to dodge little girls dressed in pink - what the hell are they doing in the LCBO anyway??) "Uhhh...I already give to other charities..."

Kat steps into the LCBO only to be immediately accosted by a woman shilling Bailey's.

Bailey's woman: "Ma'am, would you like to try some Bailey's?"

Kat's Inner Dialogue: "I can't believe that woman who is old enough to be my mother just called ME Ma'am! ARRRRRGH - ALL I WANT TO DO IS BE LEFT ALONE TO BUY MY BOOZE IN PEACE!!!"

Kat: "No thanks." Walking quickly to the back of the store searching for her coolers....

I know I sound like a total fucking bitch, but I absolutely despise being guilted into giving money. I give to charity, and not just $2 either. When I give to charity, I want a tax receipt, I want to know where the money is going and that it is a recognized charity. I will never support charities that use children to con me into giving money (awh, isn't that cute the little girl is selling chocolate bars) and I get super pissed off at people who position themselves outside of stores and attempt to get me while my wallet is still open.

Note: Baileys is fine in coffee and on ice cream, but not something that is exotic and needs to be sampled (we all know what the stuff tastes like). If you want me to buy it, give me a coupon or something but leave me alone. And don't call me Ma'am, Ma'am.

I decided I'm hella cute.

I am still on my WWJD kick, so please pardon my twelve-year-old sense of humour and roll with it. Not a lot to say tonight except a few random thoughts...

#1) Blogger has been sucking big donkey bullocks lately. And, if I were Blogger I'd be all "screw you, it's free, we don't care what you think - IT'S FREE!" But Adrianne has flipped to movable type and Jaime has moved to WordPress, so I'm starting to think about it. I just don't want to put a lot of time into moving to something else - Scott thinks that the minute I start focusing on look and feel instead of content I will completely lose interest and stop updating. He might be right on this one and I hate it when he is right (and I am wrong) so I am still hemming and hawing (quite a sight really). But I am wicked jealous of Adrianne's new dooce style header, so I may just fiddle with my template and see what happens.

#2) I have this major brain blockage when it comes to the words affect and effect. I know the difference, but I have this crazy fear that I will screw it up at work, so I usually try to avoid using both words altogether. Makes for some interesting/awkward wording and when that doesn't work, panic stricken emails to Scott asking him to confirm that my use is correct. We had a fifteen minute nerd-love dinner conversation about this exact topic last week and he quizzed me up and down, assuring me I was okay. But still the crippling fear lives on.

#3) The dentist called me back and "lucky me" they can fit me in for a cleaning on Monday night because someone cancelled last minute. Joy oh bliss, I guess it is good that I have very little notice as it will minimize the potential sleepless nights and bad dreams. I fucking abhor going to the dentist (no fault of theirs as they are quite excellent and I drive all the way to Burlington because they are the least terrible dentist I have ever been to). I am the worst patient. I squirm in my seat, yelp at the slightest touch, demand no cold water and inform the dental hygienist right up front that I am well aware that I don't floss enough and she does not need to tell me and if she does I will never come back. When they stick those little pieces of plastic coated bits of cardboard torture in my mouth for x-rays I choke and dry heave. I can only imagine what they have written in my file. Maybe I'll lie to them and tell them I'm pregnant to avoid the x-rays. Scratch that, Scott's entire family goes to the same dentist so that might lead to some awkward conversations/disappointment.

#4) I didn't step on the scale this week, but I did work out 3 times and do pretty well with the eating. I decided I'm hella cute and my curves are pretty sexy. I still want to get fit and lose weight, but I'm not going to hate on myself in the mean time...no sense in that.

What more could a girl want?

Last night Scott I had a date. And not just any date, a date that involved my favourite food, and my favourite music, with my favourite man.

We started out at Spring Rolls. Scott had made a reservation for us, and the hostess tried to stick us in the table right by the front door (wtf - he made a reservation!!). I don't know about you, but I am hyper-particular about where I sit when I go to a restaurant. I figure, you are paying a premium to be there, so you should be comfortable, or else what is the point? I have left restaurants because I wasn't comfortable where we were seated. I have pissed off countless waiters with my demands. I will not sit by the front door, bathroom, kitchen, or bus station. I just won't, and that is it. I also do not want to have my back to the front door (I must have been in the mafia in a past life), and I do not want the sun shining in my face (I'm a piece of work, eh?). So, we get seated in an acceptable location (Scott seems to have learned how to deal with my seating requirement weirdness - he puts up with a lot). I loved the food, Scott tolerated it...Thai food is not his thing, so going out for Thai food with him is a real treat. After dinner we had some time to kill so we wandered around the Eaton Centre. Scott bought me the John Legend cd, which I love. I browsed in Sephora, Scott browsed in Harry Rosen. It became very apparent that we need to get better paying jobs if we ever want to move from browsing to buying.

The Jill Scott concert was supposed to start at 8pm, but it started at 8:30pm (CP Time). It was awesome, top to bottom. She is such a diva - the woman had no opening act and she sang for over 2 hours. Ridiculous. Not a sour note all night, her band is so tight, I can't even stand it. Scott swears that she waved at us... She came out for her encore in her slippers (I imagine that wearing those killer silver open-toed heals would be hard on her feet). We saw her in 2001 at Molson Amphitheatre and I enjoyed every bit as much tonight as I did back then. What I love about her is that she truly is the complete package. She sings, she moves, she makes you laugh, she tells you like it is, and she is so honest and on the money when it comes to love and life. What hit home is something she said about how women don't tend to give our men props enough when they do great things, but when we are pissed off at them, we let everyone know. I do a pretty good job of singing Scott's praises, but I am also very articulate when I am not thrilled. So, let me sing it from the rooftops: "He did good".

WWJD?, Chick flicks, and a kick in the ass.

This morning as I was pulling onto the QEW, I was cut off by a (wait for it) minivan driving motherfucker. Not, as it turns out, a green minivan driving motherfucker, but a purple minivan driving motherfucker. Since it is Marchbreak, all of the breeders are home with their children and traffic was actually not too bad, so I wasn't in my typical oh-damn-this-sucks-it's-only-Monday-and-I-am-so-sick-and-tired-of-winter mood. I mean, the sun was out, Sheryl Crow was on the radio (shutup) and I actually felt pretty good. So I didn't drive my car up this person's ass like he deserved, but I did follow him, amused at his mullet, baseball hat, CHIPS sunglasses, French bankrobber mustache and the big "what would jesus do" fish on the back of his purple minivan with the license plates "SHARONA1".

To answer your question (I know you are dying to ask!): apparently, what Jesus would do, is Jesus would drive a purple minivan and cut people off. I have never understood the need to state one's religious beliefs on one's vehicle, nor do I understand why anyone would pay to get vanity plates on a piece of shit Windstar, let alone something as uncool as "SHARONA1". If I really, really, wanted a certain name, and it was taken, I wouldn't settle for my favourite name with a "1" on the end. No I wouldn't. I would pick something else, or better yet, not do it at all.

Anyway, now that we have settled "What Would Jesus Do" we can all rest easy. My previous Poker Widow blog got a big pro-Scott reaction, to which I say "none of you really know the situation, so whatever". I will say, that if I have to be at home, by myself, I plan to:

a) drink really expensive wine
b) take a nice, long, bubble bath (using only spa quality products)
c) watch a previously Scott-vetoed dvd (selected from estrogen alley, the place no man can safely venture without his penis falling off)
d) eat yummy Neals Brother organic cheese popcorn

If you are wondering why there has been a lack of updates on the weight loss front, it is because I have been completely unsuccessful at shedding a single pound. I think it has something to do with turning 30 (I was warned this would happen). To combat this (I considered giving up, it really wasn't an option) I am getting super strict/honest with what I am eating and writing every, little, stinking, morsal, of food, down. I am eating a lot less at work so that I can eat a reasonable dinner at home, and I am switching up my workout routine with some weight lifting. I guess we'll see what happens. I am hoping that once it warms up outside I might also come out of hybernation mode and even maybe feel a little less hungry (hey, I can hope). Now I am going to go watch my new favourite show "Fat Actress" (after Jesus cuts you off in his ugly purple van, that's what he is going to do too...).

Edited to add: I don't have a problem with Jesus, followers of Jesus or anyone affiliated with Jesus. I only have a problem with people who publicize that they consider "What Would Jesus Do" when driving their vehicles, and then proceed to drive like assholes, which I personally consider to be rather un-Christian.

I have become a Poker widow.

Scott's Burlington buddies recently started playing poker and he has been totally sucked in. It has become their Friday night ritual at either our buddy Dave's garage, or at Mike's kitchen table.

I am not going to lie - I don't understand it, I don't encourage it, in fact, I downright loathe it.

That is where he is tonight - at Mike's house. In fact, he's crashing there. He tells me that he needs to blow of steam, that he doesn't get to socialize with them that much, and that this is a great way to do it. But I think it is a shitty habit, kind of juvenile, and a sad attempt to hold onto "the good old days". I suppose it is cheaper than going to the bar, but something about it bothers me. I'm not sure if it is because I am being deserted pretty much every Friday night, or that it is gambling, or that women clearly aren't welcome, or a combination of all of them. I just hope that he understands that once we have kids, it will not be cool for him to go fuck off every Friday night to go gamble with his friends in some hotbox of a garage inhaling second hand smoke and pretending like they are big time. So, enjoy it now, I guess. If you're looking for me, I'm in the basement playing Barbies with Jennifer.

Yes, I am bitter.

Pussy Cyclone is Coming to Get You!

Scott and I just got back from seeing Margaret Cho (2nd row centre seats!) at Massey Hall. She is so so funny, my face hurts from laughing and smiling. We went with our friends fabulous Lulu and Chris (aka porcupine head) and had a blast. We started by having dinner out at Baton Rouge and one snotty waiter and several dirty martinis, beers, and glasses of Australian wine later, we rolled over to Massey Hall. If you have the chance to see Margaret Cho live, I strongly/highly recommend/demand that you go. It will be the best money you spend on a comedian all year, so do it. She was much more political than she has been in past shows, at least what makes it onto her dvds. Unsurprisingly, she does a creepy Björk impression and had just the right amount of physical/facial expression humour mixed in with a few jokes at her mom's expense. And she loves the fact that she was named worst dressed to the Grammys - gotta love that.

Can I have another piece of chocolate cake, Tammy Baker must be losing her faith.

There was cake today at work. Let me be more specific. There were 4 cakes today at work. 3 chocolate, 1 cheese cake. Why must the dieting gods taunt me so, and on the same day that my 'aunt' came to visit, 3 days early. I am very proud though, because despite the massive chips stacked against me, I persevered. It likely helps that last night we went to the gym, so it is currently CRYSTAL clear in my mind just how hard it is to burn 350 calories off, let alone 500. Also, tomorrow is my weigh-in day (I used to have it on Monday, but Monday is bad enough without adding the pressure of having to step onto a scale). I figure Thursday is a good day to check in because it keeps you in check and hopefully motivated for the weekend. We'll see about that I guess. Wish me luck...

If you haven't seen "Fat Actress" you must go watch it. It is written/filmed in a similar style to "Curb Your Enthusiasm" except it is way funnier. I love Kirstie Alley, she is a terrific comedic actress, the show is dark, hilarious, completely offside and a must see. I especially loved the opening scene where she is crawling along the floor of her bathroom, sobbing all the way. And the fact that since it is on Showtime they can say "fuck" all they want. Yeah for the word "fuck". I haven't been this excited about a new show in a while, so it's cool to have something to soak up the oozing pain that is this year's American Idol. That glorified Star Search is like a car wreck, and I am one of those stupid assholes who just has to slow down and rubber neck.

Step 3: Don't eat garbage.

I have been doing really well in the "don't eat garbage" department. But that isn't much of a challenge for me, as in recent years, I have been a very healthy eater. It really is the portion sizes that are the issue for me (I like feeling full). I will admit that it can be tough at work sometimes because there tends to be a lot of "garbage" around and sometimes the long hours force your hand ("what does everyone want for dinner? Pizza?"). I combat this with bringing a bevy of healthy snacks (apple, orange, banana, skim milk cheese stick, carrots, celery, slim fast peanut crunch bar, diet coke, lean cuisine) and that has helped me stay on track and save money to boot.

I am finding it a lot tougher to lose weight now that I am almost 30. My first week, I didn't lose anything (but that week was a bit of a write off with the "dial scale" that doesn't give clear readings, so maybe I did, and I just don't have any proof. Then I bought the fancy Weight Watchers scale, and that told me, quite clearly, that I am actually 1.5 lbs heavier than I had originally thought. So, it feels like instead of losing, I have actually gained, and I know this isn't true, but it sure feels like a kick in the face. Since I can't change it, I guess I have to accept it and try not to get discouraged. I know I will lose the extra weight, and it will be work, and it isn't fun, so I just have to focus on something else for now.

Funny thing: Scott is helping me in my endeavour by starting his own "health kick". He is very sweet. Also, I can't wait to watch Kirstie Alley's new "Fat Actress" show. I knew there was a reason we kept the movie network!

Step 1 | Step 2

All hail the Queen/The Bitch is Back.

If I were Martha Stewart, instead of waving graciously, I would have turned to the photographers and flipped them the bird. Because really, the people who are singing her praises now are the the same ass-hats who went out of their way over the past 2 years to talk smack about her, print ugly pictures of her, try her case in the court of public opinion, and smile smugly as she went to jail for 5 months. I hope she kept a list of people who have snubbed her, whether it be professionally or personally. Take them off the Christmas Card list, delete them from your palm pilot and suck your teeth at them when they show up and try to act like they didn't completely desert you and take quiet joy in your public humiliation. That's what I would do anyway. I have always liked Martha Stewart, and I didn't give a shit that she may or may not have done some insider trading (you think most rich folks out there haven't gotten a trading "tip" now and again?).

But Martha is a lady, and instead of giving the reporters the bird, she waved and smiled (and she looked damn good doing it too). She even made the paparazzi buzzing around her house hot chocolate. Way to rise above it and show them all that you will not get down and wrestle in the mud with them like the two-faced swine they are. Though it would have been funnier if she had gone all "Kill Bill" on her enemies [cue The Bride theme music]...maybe this niceness is all a ruse to get them comfortable so they'll let their guards down so she can poison them with yummy cupcakes...guess we'll have to wait and see.

18 more sleeps until the first day of spring.

To celebrate the coming of spring, Raye finally launched her blog "Rayeofsunshine". I had threatened to register the name for her, telling her I would post her emails on it and that would be that. She asked me not to, then life got busy, so I never did. Needless to say, I am very pleased that she is up and running, so go check her out. She is one of the smartest people I know and could put any movie reviewer (pack your bags Ebert) to shame, but I don't agree with her on her neverending praise for "Closer" (though I would fight her in an alley over Clive Owen).

Baby beluga in the deep blue sea.

I made it through hump day. Only two more days of driving in this shitty weather until I get to sleep in for a change. Oh joy, oh bliss. I meant to blog about this earlier (but I was too cranky and my boobs hurt - see previous blog) - I went to my friend Stephanie's baby-to-be-shower on Sunday. These pictures are not Stephanie's baby (she is due in April), they are pictures of Hannah (4 months old), who is my co-worker's best friend's daughter. I think she is just about the cutest thing ever.

Stephanie registered at Babies 'R Us, which if you have never been, is an insane place and completely overwhelming. I of course, left buying her gift until the last moment, and all of the cute, little, easy to wrap stuff was already gone, so I ended up buying her a baby bath, wicker laundry hamper, a crib mattress pad, and a rattle. Big ass objects that ate up all of my wrapping paper, but she seemed pleased with them, so it's all good. I have to admit, it was kind of a crazy experience. Don't get me wrong, I am thrilled for Stephanie and her husband Shane. I think I am just a bit overwhelmed by the whole baby thing. The lowlight of the day was getting a drive from Oakville to Richmond Hill all the while freezing my ass off in the back seat because the driver had the window cranked down and was smoking wine tipped cigarettes (that smelled GREAT and didn't make me want to barf in her Mustang AT ALL). The highlight was seeing how happy Stephanie was and how big her belly is getting (also, she made out like a bandit!).

Do you know how much stuff you can buy for babies? It is crazy. It kind of makes me feel like I need to save up all my money for the next five years before I'll even feel like I can afford to have one. My mom reassured me that this is not so, that she and my dad were really broke when they had me and it all worked out just fine. My best friend Jennifer told me that anything you need for a baby you can buy at the drugstore on the way home from the hospital (they sell cribs at Shoppers Drugmart?). My other friend Jenn told me that she was at a baby shower last weekend, and the expecting mother's mother (who Scott says is a loud mouth) asked Jenn why she wasn't pregnant yet, and were her husband's sperm dead? That woman deserves a cockpunch in the worst way.

It really is an odd time in my life - I've got a bit of a career going, but my body is going nuts. It isn't so much like I feel like I am running out of time, it's more that every time I see a baby I get mushy, and when I see little kids my heart melts. I almost bought myself a "My Little Pony" today (what's up with that?) but instead I bought a fancy digital Weight Watcher's scale. I suppose my immediate goal of losing weight goes completely against the idea of having a baby, eh? Guess I'll sort it out one way or another (and no, I'm not pregnant, thank you very much).

My boobs hurt and I HATE this weather.

If you asked Scott, he would probably tell you that I have been one "grumpy Jenny" over the past week. Reasons for this you ask? Well, where do I start?

1. I am so tired of the cold and the grey and the snow. I need winter to be over and done with already. Just as I said this over the weekend, it was like the weather demon decided to play a cruel joke on me, and here we are with another 25cm.

2. I didn't lose any weight this week, and I was really good about tracking my food, drinking my water, and NOTHING. But we have one of those stupid dial scales, where you have to lose 2 pounds before you see the dial move. So, maybe I need to go get a digital scale so I can get some joy if I lose just a pound or something. Still, very frustrating. I should email Jaime for some moral support.

3. American Idol is kinda bad. I fell asleep last night while it was on (usually I am completely captivated by it). I should just stop watching until they get to the final 12, because this whole boy/girl thing sucks. I have to check in with Jennifer to see what she thinks.

4. The Oscars were pretty bad. The only real highlights for me were Chris Rock as MC and Jamie Fox's acceptance speech. I hated Beyonce muddling her way through THREE songs (though I thoroughly enjoyed the fact that Josh Grobin wouldn't even look at her during their "duet", and what the hell was with having Antonio Banderas and Santana performing together? I mean, I can accept Santana, but Antonio was brutal. Also, did anyone else notice that his wife Melanie Griffith has started the Goldie Hawn habit of wearing sunglasses all the time (guess the age is starting to show...) and also, her dress had this awful flesh tone fabric back that looked like geriatric support hose stretched from her shoulders to her ass crack. Unfortunate. I have nothing good to say about Star Jones, except that, she needs to go away yesterday.

5. My boobs (aka "stripper tits" a la Adrianne's blog) are KILLING me. This whole being off the pill thing sucks. I much prefer having all symptoms of PMS completely suppressed. Ugh. Being natural is highly overrated.