Friday, April 29, 2005

30 is the new 20 - Part Deux.

One day left and counting...actually, more like hours left and sobbing. Meh. Scott had great words of encouragement for me last night - "I'm not going to lie to you hon, turning 30 sucks". Wow. Thanks for that. I decided to do a little case study on my friend Lulu to prove my "30 is the new 20" rule.

Lulu - 30 in 2006:
  • still dresses skanky and goes out dancing
  • looks like a child prostitute in this picture
  • has a hot 23 year old boyfriend (half your age plus 7 rule!)
  • is in her 1st long-term relationship with said boyfriend
  • does not know how to drive
  • is fixated on the idea of cockpunching
  • loves Jennifer Lopez and is jealous of her booty
  • has a flat dumper
  • drinks her coffee through a cocktail straw
  • has a condo in downtown Toronto
  • steals her wireless internet from her dumb neighbour
  • has an Ipod mini with a pink sleeve that her boyfriend gave her for Christmas
  • is going to travel the world when she grows up
  • is going to work abroad when she grows up
  • thinks that Clemintine and Delilah are good names for girls
  • wears stiletto heals to work and tells people they are "comfy"
  • owns no less than 4 pairs of red running shoes
  • knows what the best bottle of wine that you can buy for under $7 is
  • is going to drink gin and juice at my 30th birthday party

Time to start getting ready for my part-ay tomorrow. Should be a good time - and Stephanie and Shane might even bring Charlotte!!!

Thursday, April 28, 2005

[*Blink*] 30 is the new 20 - Part 1.

I'm turning 30 on Saturday. Yes, 30 on the 30th, my "champagne" birthday. We are celebrating on Saturday, by way of a birthday party for both of us (and by celebrating, I mean, getting together with our other old friends and commiserating about how much our backs hurt and our bones ache and about how much our families want us to have babies). Then we will get drunk, and maybe cry.

At the xbi, the social committee sends out a birthday email every month highlighting the employees who are celebrating their birthdays that month. The email typically mocks and embarrasses those who are getting older...I'm talking heads pasted on fairy bodies, with poems that are meant in fun, but are tongue in cheek and may make you blush. I'm not going to lie - all month I was wondering "what the hell are they going to do to me?". I was picturing my blonde head mounted on a gorilla body, or maybe a baby's body...something horrible/unimaginable.

So, considering how bad it could have been, I got off light. The talented dudes in our production department paid tribute to the four "April birthday babies" by creating Tronesque video games using our faces. I've taken a couple of screen caps to illustrate their creative prowess. Scott was impressed because at his work, his coworkers merely gather 'round his cube and sing a half assed version of Happy Birthday (and let's face it, nobody likes that - not at a restaurant, not on your voicemail, and certainly not by your lame-o coworkers).

Wednesday, April 27, 2005

If God Had a Shaft.

Okay, so before you do anything, you have to go and check out David Usher's website. It is surreal. Make sure you look at the Hi-Fi version and then sit and stare intently as the page loads. I have it on high authority that David Usher is a little bananas (I can't figure out if that makes him hotter than he already is or not...). I listened to the samples of his new cd "If God Had Curves" and quickly filed it in the "music for bedwetters" category right behind Cold Play. Not my cup of tea, but he sure is fine/doable.

Onto politics. As someone that voted Liberal in the last Federal election only out of fear that the Conservatives might actually win in our riding, and potentially assisting that awful homophobe Stephen Harper in becoming Prime Minister, I am absolutely THRILLED that Jack Layton and Paul Martin were able to come to an agreement to avoid another election. Got that Mincemeat Vixen? I would have voted NDP...meaning, despite my stirring the pot with my unions are not up-to-date post, I do actually lean to the left. While a minority government is not ideal, I actually think that their ability to work together to get stuff done is very positive. It isn't about making a "deal with the devil" as Harper would have you believe, it is about compromise and finding a middle ground that the majority can live with. That's Canada buddy. If you don't like it, move down to the US where folks ultimately get 2 choices, neither of which are fantastic.

Last word - American Idol. Dude. Paula, pull yourself together...he wasn't all that good. I think Simon needs to stop telling Scott Savol to pack his bags though, it's getting him the sympathy vote. So long Constantine. Despite what Paula says, you are not going to move on to great things, you are going to wallow in mediocrity and then fade away and turn to dust. Pitchy dust at that.

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

A True American Idol.

Is it just me, or does she look like she has giraffe legs?
Just wanted to remind everyone what an American Idol looks like (in case you forgot or have been brainwashed into thinking that one of the remaining six is even qualified to photocopy Mariah's sheet music). I'm not saying that I really dig Mariah Carey's music, but I do appreciate her talent (there may even be copies of her first 2 cds floating around somewhere in my music collection). I think Mariah's biggest mistake was leaving adult contemporary music for urban music. She needs to put some pants on and make like Celine Dion. That, my friends, is when she will start selling records again. And don't tell me she sold more records in her first week with this new album than any of her other records. That's nice and all, but it won't last. I'm not going to bother reviewing this album because Solitaire already did, so check it out on her old site.

Jennifer called tonight during American Idol. I didn't pick up because I was trying to stop bleeding out my ears - have you tried to get blood out of carpet? I'm not sure what happened tonight, but the only person who sang in tune was Bo Bice. You can hate on Simon all you want, but he is the only judge who consistently hears what the television viewing audience hears, vs. what the studio audience is swept away with. Trust me, I have 2 degrees in music, I know what I am saying. So, after calling Jennifer back, we conferred on the following - to recap:

Carrie Underwood - pitchy, but cute and we all know she can sing the shit out of country. I think she was sick tonight (did you hear her sympathy coughs after she sang?).

Bo Bice
- likely the best performance of the night - at least the most in tune. I wish he would put down the mic stand though.

Vonzell Solomon - pitchy, but you gotta love this girl. She knows karate and she sings hard songs well. Also, she is damn cute.

Anthony Fedorov - so, cheesey, must, get a, glass, of water, to dissolve the Cheese Whiz, blocking my airway.

Constantine Maroulis - I hate Nickleback SO MUCH - and you didn't even sing it in tune! For that, you must be punished, though I doubt it will happen. I too have had love for a Greek man, so I understand the spell that the women of America are under. Warning - if you make that kicking motion at the camera one more time, I will reach through my television set and punch you in the cock.

Scott Savol - dude - you tried to sing Luther Vandross - you got no right - if America has any sense, they will send your woman beating ass home tomorrow.

And for all of you still searching the holy grail of Jeff Prasertlum, I thought I would let you know that...well...Brad Pitt is getting jiggy with Angelina Jolie. I'm thinking that Jen, even though she is a Godmother to little Coco, is not interested in procreating (at least not with Brad). We should probably thank her for that, as we would likely be blinded by the beauty of any baby they created together. So, if he wants kids, who better to hook up with than Angelina Jolie? Just add water and stir, instant family and a hott woman to boot.

Monday, April 25, 2005

Pssst...don't drink the water, pass it on.

Well, we just found out a few hours ago that a good friend of ours is "in the family way" (aka knocked up/expecting/up the stump). It's a little early for grand announcements so we will conceal her identity for another month or so. Needless to say, we are absolutely thrilled for her (and her husband, though his work really is done and all of her's is ahead). So, congratulations Mrs. and Mr. XYZ and your Christmas Baby.

Now, about Britney. Hooza! What can one really say? Let me take a shot. Talk about letting it all go. This girl does not care about anything. Not her hair, not her clothes, not her boobs (her poor boobs - don't they look sad?). They're all "Hey Britney, we are sore and saggy and it is not fun down here at your waist, can you hoist your sisters back up please?". Okay, maybe they aren't saying that, but for the love of all things holy girl, put a bra on.

Sunday, April 24, 2005

10 reasons why I love my husband.

hands off ladies!10. Before we left for Ithaca on Friday, he declared "it's my day off, I'm having a beer!" So I did too (well, I don't drink beer, so I had a Mike's lemonade). It was only 12:30pm, but that's okay, because it was our day off.
9. At the border, the US customs official asked us "Citizenship?" to which Scott replied "Yes". I believe the correct response was "Canadian", but since we are just about the whitest folks on the planet, and we drive a friggin' Camry, they rarely even look at our passports, let alone give us a hard time for not answering their questions correctly.
8. When we arrived in Ithaca, he brought in all of our bags from the car, and then got us both some beers out of the fridge and started tossing Cleo's (1 of 3 Boston terriers) slimy squeak toy across the room. Then he laughed when he saw that Cleo had managed to get her gooey saliva all over his jeans.
7. Since our favourite restaurant in Ithaca was full and we had to wait, and there were only 3 spaces available at the bar, he stood outside with my brother and my sister's boyfriend and made puppy dog eyes at me through the window while I sat at the bar enjoying what they call the "big red flight" with the ladies. I felt kind of bad for him, for like a minute.
6. At the same restaurant (a tapas restaurant - which means you share appetizer size portions with everyone) he happily ordered a large order of his favourite chicken wings knowing that 3 of the 6 people at the table are vegetarians and the remaining 2 of 6 cannot eat spicy food. Leaving him and the chicken wings and no competition. Nice.
5. He went to Target with me on Saturday and did not rush me. I spent 2 hours in Target, and he did not complain once. Not even when I returned three times to the women's clothing section, convinced that I had not possibly seen everything they might have to offer.
4. He bought himself three t-shirts at Target, each one with a juvenile saying ("Chick Dig Me", "Don't Hate the Player Hate the Game", and "World Poker Tour Champion"). We later agreed that this may have something to do with a symbolic teeth kissing at turning 30 on that very day.
3. He spent his 30th birthday celebrating his first Passover (a helluva a party really - 19 drunk people singing and eating and drinking...) but likely not his first choice for his 30th birthday. Pics to come later.
2. On the way home today, as we drove past an overhanging Burger King sign on the interstate, he yelled out at the same time as me "Cheeseburger, Fries and a large Coke!!!". This is an inside joke between us (we think that these signs look like drivethrough order windows and you have to yell really loud and fast so they can hear your order). Yes, completely juvenile. We repeated this at the next sign, 30km later.
1. Tonight, when we went grocery shopping for this week's groceries he dropped me off out in front of the grocery store so I wouldn't get rained on.

Friday, April 22, 2005

Heading down to New York for a boozey Passover.

Lordy lordy look who's 30!
And by "New York", I really mean Ithaca (upstate New York). Whenever we venture south to go and visit my brother and his wife, I tell people, "yeah, we're going to New York for the weekend" (which is totally dumb, because I immediately have to clarify that no, I don't actually mean New York city...making me look even less cool than if I had just said "we're going to Ithaca for the weekend"). I guess I always figure that people won't know where Ithaca is, but the smart ones do. I think maybe that should be my litmus test for whether or not people are worth talking to...a thought.

Another clarification, I am not in fact Jewish (not that there would be anything wrong with that if I was, just that I am not). As I was leaving the xbi yesterday, I told the big kahuna "yeah, I'm going to New York (see, I did it again) for Passover" and he looked at me, trying to figure out the most tactful way to say what he was thinking which was "oh, I didn't know you were Jewish". Jokingly I said, "did my blonde hair and green eyes throw you off?" (or maybe it was the Christmas cookies I made this year). He has a point though...I don't know that many Jewish people who look like me.

I grew up celebrating both Christian and Jewish holidays. Made for interesting times around Hanukkah/Christmas and Passover/Easter when my step-siblings would come visit for the weekend. I remember that for a few years I scored a lot of presents (double dipping on the holidays) and something about kosher Easter baskets. Also, my mom (also not Jewish) makes a better Passover than any Jew I have ever met. Seriously, her brisket rocks.

So, off we go down to Ithaca for a boozey Passover. I say "boozey" because apparently my brother's Passover ritual involves taking extended drinking breaks whenever he sees his guests' eyes start to glaze over. I'm hoping this helps Scott enjoy the experience (especially because tomorrow is his 30th birthday!). I've done my share of full length sedars and they can be as long as 3.5 hours if you read cover to cover. We'll be back on Sunday, I'll let you know how it went.

Thursday, April 21, 2005

Who in the world is Jeff Prasertlum?

Sometimes you have to hug people who make you feel icky insideJeff, whoever you are, thanks for the traffic you have sent my way. I can't help but wonder, if you really do work at Allstate, do you still have a job? Are you the laughing stock of your coworkers, friends and family? Regardless, I guess you learned your lesson, eh? Hoax or not, your name and email are written all over this, and while you were once famous for your participation on the University of Florida's Intramural Sports Team (way to go!) you are now known worldwide for your lack of discretion. Tisk tisk. I think your new nickname should be Ron Mexico.

Onto more important things. How about this new pope? Since I can't possibly be funnier or more disrespectful than the Mincemeat Vixen, I ask you to go to her site and be forewarned, you may snort your beverage through your nose (for me it was diet coke with lime, which stings).

I am sad for Scarlet Johanson in this picture. She looks really uncomfortable in that outfit, and she is so much hotter than this picture indicates. Also, she is hugging that orange fishstick Paris Hilton. Ick. Also, Benicio Del Tores deserves a cockpunch for saying they had "the sex" in an elevator at some awards show. First off dude, you are an old pervert bordering on pedophilia and second off, you are gross. Thirdly - if you were fortunate enough to get with our girl Scarlet, have some fucking class and shut your apple doll face about it you A1 douchebag.

PS: I am still really raw about the fact that Anwar got voted off when that woman beater Scott Savol and glorified cruise ship singer Anthony Fedorov are still on the show. America, what is wrong with you?

Wednesday, April 20, 2005

Updated: 33 degrees of separation.

Angry Mama!
I originally posted this yesterday, then deleted it this morning when I saw that the Arquettes were threatening legal action against anyone who posted the stolen pics of their kid Coco. Anyway, god bless google's caching system (and let this be a lesson to anyone who posts and deletes anything online) - it will always be there....somewhere.

From yesterday:

[Pictures removed because I do not need the grief]

You're probably wondering where these pictures of "CooCoo-for-Cocopuff" Arquette's christening came from. Well, let me tell you. Apparently they came from Jennifer Aniston herself (though I'm not entirely sure why she would be emailing them to some dude at Allstate?) Anyway, this guy is no "friend" of Jennifer's.

He forwarded her email to his buddies within minutes and in only a day or two it made it all the way to little old me (33 forwards later). Perhaps I am just as bad for posting these pics on my blog, but I figure they are already out there (someone from Court TV has them from what the email forward trail tells me). Also, they are completely boring, and I'd like to call this dude out.

Here is the original email:
"Prasertlum, Jeff" (
04/15/2005 01:11 PM
"Paul Darrow (E-mail)" (, "Dean Meyers
(E-mail)" (, "Rich Pashkin (E-mail)"
(, (
Subject FW: Friends in town

check it.
-----Original Message-----
From: Jennifer Aniston
Sent: Friday, April 15, 2005 12:32 PM
To: Prasertlum, Jeff
Subject: FW: Friends in town

Here are some pic's of that Christening that I went to, that I was telling you about...

So, if this guy really did betray her trust, I hope she finds out about it and cuts this dirtbag off. Cute baby though.

Monday, April 18, 2005

Catherine the Great, I'll say.

Congratulations to Catherine Ndereba who won her fourth Boston Marathon today. Having dabbled in running in the past (a few 10k races and Running Room memberships) I have tremendous respect for anyone who can run for 26+ miles (in 2 hours, 25 minutes, 13 seconds). That's like running at pretty much break neck speed for over 2 hours, with nobody chasing you (well, I guess the other runners are chasing you, but it isn't like they are wielding guns or anything). These days I run on a treadmill most of the time (saves my knees and ankles from hurting so bad). I like running outside better (much more interesting) but pounding the pavement is too hard on my joints, and when you are as pale as I am, running in the sun is a recipe for "burnt Kat on a hot tin roof" (not pretty). So, big ups to Catherine - the only woman to win four Boston Marathons - and big ups to fellow blogger Mike of Prepared to Give Up who was also running today.

Sunday, April 17, 2005

Don't worry your pretty little head.

Jennifer and I were talking last week about the amazing pressure that is put on women to be physically perfect. This is not a new conversation by any means, but it stirred up some stuff in me and has made me very cranky and pissed off. I hate how much time I have spent in my life being critical of my appearance and allowing my inner voice to talk negatively to myself. Not thin enough, not stylish enough, not cute enough, not sexy enough, not good enough. I wish I had spent all that time reading or studying or doing something positive instead of beating myself up.

We teach our girls from such a young age that if they want to be valued/loved/respected they have to fit into a certain physical mould. It gets reinforced everywhere they look; there is no escaping it. I was lucky enough to grow up in a household with highly educated parents who were always supportive of me and focussed on things like education and skills instead of popularity and looks. But it eats me up, because I see it all around me every day. It is amazing really, how successfully women have been oppressed by stereotyping and commercialism. Keep 'em thinking that they need to look like "this" and to look like "this" they need to buy "that". And by keeping us focussed on "this" and "that" it keeps us from looking outside of ourselves and seeing the world for what it is, and actually using our brains, and finding our voices and demanding, oh, I don't know, equal representation in government for starters.

Scott and I were at hoity-toity Sherway Gardens yesterday and I was really uncomfortable and pissy. From the moment we walked past the 700 series BMW parked at the valet stand outside of Holts to the sea of bleach blondes in their stiletto heals and perfect manicures, my skin was crawling. He didn’t understand why I was so moody, and I just said "this place makes me feel like I don't measure up, that I'm not perfect enough, rich enough, pretty enough…I never want to come back to this fucking place". I'll take Queen West over that place any day…at least there people look normal, and maybe even unique (gasp!). So, I'm not saying I'll be able to stop the voices, but I'm going to damn well try to rein them in. Wish me luck.

Thursday, April 14, 2005

If this is America's finest, I feel bad for y'all.

I am perplexed by this season's American Idol. Is America deaf? Did the talent get culled too early (ie - before they even got to Hollywood)? I thought shit typically flows downstream, but apparently it floats to the top. Let's recap the top 12:

TOP 7:
Anthony Fedorov - This guy is brutal. Cheesy, out of tune, a sloppy second to Clay Aitken. He needs to go home, but clearly someone is voting for him. Why?

Anwar Robinson - At first I was totally into him, he's very musical. I think he doesn't switch it up enough though, and he dresses like a friggin' hippy.

Bo Bice - Kind of old for American Idol...I can't see him winning. Plus, would any rocker with an ounce of cred go on this show? Would any rock band with an ounce of cred want a singer who would go on this show? Maybe Nickleback, but otherwise, me thinks not.

Carrie Underwood - Likely the best singer left - I hope she turns it on in the next few weeks because if she gets voted off it will be all dudes and Vonzelle. She knows how to use her instrument and has a true style (more than I can say for anyone else on the show).

Constantine Maroulis - Scott's pick to win (not that Scott watches the show - he wanted me to clarify that). Just that he has happened to be nearby a few times when Constantine has "turned on the charm" (gag).

Scott Savol - Workin' my last nerve and the very proof that there are a lot of fat white Americans who vote for their own kind. I hate this guy, so, so much. He wobbles like a weeble and he emotes like a man in a coma.

Vonzell Solomon - I like Vonzell, seems like a sweet girl, but there have been much better singers on this show that did the R&B/pop thing (LaToya London anyone?).

Jessica Sierra - I never really got her appeal. Also, they dressed her like a muppet. When you are short and top heavy, you need to be careful (I should know).

Lindsey Cardinale - No clue how she got into the top 12 in the first place...she danced like Brandy used to dance in her Moesha days (elbows and knees and I'm girl please!).

Mikalah Gordon - America was on crack when they put Fran Jr. in the top 12. This girl was TERRIBLE. Her only assets were between her shoulders and her ribs and that only gets you so far (besides, Scott Savol has bigger boobies than her).

Nadia Turner - Truly my favourite, but probably too musical for America and too much like Fantasia (gasp - we can't have another funky black woman win this thing...).

Nikko Smith - Cute and a good dresser, but pitchy as all get out. We all knew his days were numbered.

So, I'll keep on watching, and mocking, and commenting, but I won't buy the cd of whoever wins - I never have and I never will. Now, off to watch my favourite show...

Wednesday, April 13, 2005

Hit me baby one more time, one more time, one more time.

Have you heard the news? Just kidding. Of course you have. I reported it here, weeks ago. Oh Britney, we've seen you develop into such a lovely woman. Remember her first 'scandalous' video? The one where she was dressed as a Catholic school girl? Seems pretty tame now. I mean, we've seen her dance with snakes, strut her stuff in barely-there flesh coloured bejewelled body suits. We've witnessed several boob jobs, broken hearts, mental break downs, a Vegas wedding...and the girl is only 23 years old (JLo, you're fallin' behind!).

We've seen her kiss a girl an old woman (twice!). And the lies, oh the lies. First she and Justin were just fine, then they broke up. And she was a virgin, wait, scratch that, not a virgin (but SOOOOOOOOOOOOO in love, so it was regrettable, but acceptable). Then, getting married...psych, eloped....and not pregnant...just kidding, totally pregnant. I suppose when you live in the spotlight, this type of stuff happens. I do think she asks for it a bit, you don't see Ms. Aguilera flaunting her private life nearly as much as Britbot. And now Brit and her sleazy excuse for a husband are going to have a reality don't try to tell me you just want your privacy. Ever. Sadly, not a yet a girl, not yet a woman, soon to be a mother.

Monday, April 11, 2005

Christina Aguilera is sexier than unions.

I'm probably not going to be very popular for saying this (when has this ever stopped me?) but I don't care for unions. Let me qualify that statement, I don't care for modern day unions.

Toronto barely missed coming to a grinding halt due to a too-close-to-call TTC strike that was called off at the 11th hour (well…make that 5:30pm). I had a pretty frank discussion with a co-worker at the xbi about my feelings. It went something like this:

Me: If I was the TTC, and the union was telling me about their pension, security and guaranteed pay increase demands, you know what I would say?

xbi co-worker: ?

Me: Fuck OFF!

xbi co-worker looking at me laughing (he is used to my "somewhat" outspoken opinions).

Me: Yeah. When is the last time you had a job that guaranteed you anything? Oh, never? Me neither. You know what I would say to all those hockey players and the Players Association while I was at it?

xbi co-worker: Let me guess.

Me: Fuck OFF! Go play in Europe. When you come crawling back I'll hire you back at 25% of your original contract and see who's laughing then.

xbi co-worker:
You are a bad person.

Me: Maybe, but I also know that unions, for the most part, are outdated and no longer serve the purpose for which they were originally intended. My grandfather was a coalminer in Pennsylvania. When he should have been in school he was in the mines, and he worked his entire life in the mines. And he needed a union, damn straight. Hockey players do not know the meaning of hardship. Also, I hate hockey.


My main point is that I think that unions tend to breed apathy, and the attitude that workers should meet the minimum requirements of their job and then expect a lot in return. In the field I work in, if the company doesn't do well, I don't do well. I don't get guaranteed pay raises, I have to earn them. I don't have a pension; I have to invest my money to make my retirement a reality. I think that often unions force companies into no-win situations and then set their very members up for failure to boot when they strike. Often the very increase they negotiate for their members turns out to be less than the money they lost by not working (way to go!) and leaves the company in an even tougher position than they were in originally because of the lost income from the days closed. I know that only scratches the surface, and yes, there are still fields that need unions (nurses for instance, maybe teachers….though I think they should both be a mandatory service as well as the TTC).

So, I'm glad the TTC didn't go on strike because while I could have found another way to work, there are a lot of folks out there who do not have other options, they would have been screwed. But I'm willing to bet that in 3 years we'll be back in the same boat, holding our breath to see if they are going to get in a pissing match over a 0.25% increase. Nice.

PS: My mom belongs to a union, and she has a PhD in Sociology so I am probably going to hear about this BIG TIME.

Sunday, April 10, 2005

Samba - the drooling turd burglar.

This morning when I woke up, I looked down to the end of our bed and saw Samba sitting at our feet gazing at us intensely. When she saw me looking at her, she took this as an invitation to walk up the entire length of my body and stand on my chest, purring. Informing me that she would accept my affection so please commence with the petting. It's always the same thing with her - I pet her so she can turn around in joyful circles, randomly sticking her catass in my face. What is it about cats and their asses? They enjoy flaunting their little pink puckered poopers, and always in close proximity to my face. So inappropriate. She really is a very sweet creature. We got her right before Christmas 2000 from the Annex Cat Rescue (her original name was Sybil, which I didn't especially care for). She was so tiny when we got her and she broke our hearts with her double purr and fear of everything. When she was little I would sit her on my lap and make her box her own tail (hours of endless entertainment). She didn't seem to get that the very thing she was attempting to catch and bite was attached to her ass…also, the very action of us shaking her tail would make her fart endlessly…such a rotten smell from such a little beast.
She hasn't grown much (I think she is a grand total of 7 pounds) and she lives every day waiting for Bossa to chase her down the hall. Luckily, she has her own room that we put her in when we are out so that Bossa won't catch her. We used to let them both have free reign, figuring that Samba would be able to outrun Bossa. That ended when Samba started peeing and pooing in our bedroom (poor thing was too afraid to leave our room to go to her litter box down the hall lest Bossa harm her). Also, a trip to the vet due to a suspicious chunk missing from Samba's tail informed us that this little girl needed to be inducted into protected custody.
She is an odd little beast. She adopted a monkey I had given to Scott for Valentine's day (Bongo). He is roughly the same size as her, so they wrestle, cuddle and sleep together. She even cleans him sometimes. We feel a bit bad for him when we find him ass up in the middle of the hallway…Samba is not the most polite of kitties. She has a lot of toys but the thing she likes to play with best are her dried up turds - hence the name "turd burglar". We find them in random corners of her room…I suppose we should just be glad that they remain in her room and that they are dried up. The other thing she does when she is very very happy is drool. So, if you are lying on the bed petting her, you have to watch out because she will drool right on your face, which is totally nasty. She also likes to sleep on top of us, preferably on top of your bum/crotch. She prefers Scott to me, though lately she has been selecting me over him (not sure if this is a good thing). In the winter her favourite thing is to sleep next to Scott, nestled into his armpit. In the summer she hides under the bed because she hates the ceiling fan. A weird little kitty, but I appreciate that she has forced us to interact with her on her terms - perhaps there is something to be learned here.

Friday, April 08, 2005

I think I just spontaneously ovulated.

Our friends Stephanie and Shane welcomed their first baby into the world on Monday. Welcome Charlotte Jean. A perfect name for a perfect girl. What a little angel! It seems that the last of our coupled off Burlington friends are getting hitched this summer, so the transition into supposed adulthood is upon us. Being in the twilight of my 20's (a direct quote from Jennifer's Scott) I appreciate that it may be time to consider growing up. But I still have 3 weeks before I have to commit to anything, so I plan on living it up and not succumbing to the not so subtle parental pressure coming our way. Scott thinks I am reading too much into things when I claim that his parents exchange knowing glances when they see me drinking wine with dinner, as if to say, "well, I guess they aren't trying yet". My mom (who will be a wonderful grandmother one day) talks openly about when we have children. And I keep reminding them all that we haven't even been married a year, give us some time. Wasn't there a woman in India who had a baby at the age of 65? I have 35 more years of fertility in front of me...

Monday, April 04, 2005

The chicken wing saga (aka "wet wet heat").

Last Thursday Scott mentioned to me that he was thinking about making chicken wings for when his folks came over on Saturday to watch the Final Four. Me being sick and me not really caring, I nodded and said "yeah, sure, sounds good". He did some more research on Friday (I believe this entailed typing "crockpot chicken wings" into google). He claims that he looked at many options before going with the selection at the top of the page (it has since been demoted to #2). The winner: "Linda's Crockpot Chicken Wings".

He happened to mention his crockpot and chicken wing intentions to the Domestic Goddess and she was quite alarmed (Picniclighing just sadly shook his head, Jasmine for once had no comment). I understand her concern as I shared it (won't the wings get really moist and fall off the bones? They won't be crispy!). I had already accepted that Scott was going to proceed, no matter what. She made all sorts of terrific suggestions for alternate recipes, but to no avail. He got up early on Saturday morning to venture to the grocery store (this is how I knew it was important) and he made those chicken wings, making sure to point out to me that he added his own "special touch" which was to baste those wings with honey so that the sauce would stick to them.

And while they were certainly not crispy, and they did kind of fall off the bone at bite #2, they were also very tasty. I think that we both agreed that further exploration of chicken wing recipes is merited and that in the mean time, we'll probably just stick with M&M.

Sunday, April 03, 2005

Kibble Kibble Num Num/Chocolate Molten Lava Cake!

The highlight of my weekend began and ended on Friday night when Scott and I got to meet Domestic Goddess (aka Jennifer), Picniclighting (aka "S") and Kibble Kibble Num Num (aka Jasmine). The plans for this meeting of the web minds had been in the works for several months (Christmas, work, sickness all getting in the way), so I was pretty psyched when Jennifer and I exchanged final confirmations this week that we were a "go". Suh-weet. Funny, you would think that I would be nervous meeting someone for the first time, but it actually didn't cross my mind until after the fact when I was saying to Scott, "that seemed really comfortable from the get go, for me at least". And then I secretly wondered in my paranoid mind "maybe they thought we were totally obnoxious and couldn't wait for us to leave?!"

Scott and I managed to get to their apartment on time…unusual for us because (I'm gonna throw Scott under the bus on this one) Scott has this thing about trying to cram 4 hours worth of stuff into a 90 minute time span right before we need to go somewhere or someone is coming over to our house which inevitably leads to him either driving like a maniac or me greeting our guests solo because he has just gotten into the shower. Right off the bat we both felt at ease, how could we not with Picniclighting (a loyal Raptorblog member and forum moderator) and Scott watching the Raptors game and Jennifer and I talking about weddings and cooking, impending home ownership and blogging. Jasmine is a lovely lovely cat (and quite the conversationalist). Picniclighting makes a mean fruit plate and Jennifer is not called the Domestic Goddess for nothing. She made this killer chocolate molten lava cake that is to die for. And not that President's Choice stuff either, she made it from scratch and then tried to tell me how it really is "easy" to make. I think she was kidding me and this is more in line with the Caramilk secret (how do you get the yummy melty chocolate in the middle of the cake?). The warm chocolately cake was topped with fresh cream and berries and my tummy was in heaven.

Funniest moment of the night: Jennifer, S, and myself mocking Scott's intentions of making crockpot chicken wings (more on this later - photos, review, ratings). Note to Jennifer, yes he made them as originally intended...and while they were not crispy, they were pretty good [gasp].

Boys will be boys moment of the night: when Scott was saying he thought Araujo was having a great game and S looked up his game stats for the game thus far and proved him wrong (I never thought Scott would find another kindred spirit with a similar love for the Raptors).