Poor Bernie

My poor Bernice. I had her to take her to the vet because she was peeing blood. Which is obviously, NOT a good thing. She spent the night there last night as they needed a urine sample, and she was not providing. I went to get her today after work, and she had just given them a sample at 4:30, so we had to wait for results. Then the results were inconclusive, so an X-ray was needed. Grr. Diagnosis: urinary Tract infection. Cure: antibiotics and new Food. Cost: $262. OUCH! That hurts. But what are you going to do? Thats how they get ya. Your kitty is all in pain and scared to death, you can't just say, "forget it". (Not that I would by the way.). It would be like a first class ticket to the fiery depths of HELL. Don't get me wrong, I know I'm already headed there, but right now, I'm still traveling coach.

Kitty is now shedding like a MOFO all over my one fur-free chair, but I can't kick her off it, she is finally relaxing.

Later,
T.

Easter Bonnets and all that Jazz

There's nothing like going to your Aunt & Uncles house and seeing all your cousin's kids looking super cute in their Easter outfits, to make you think, Yeah, I WOULD like a baby. There's nothing like the five minutes following the Easter egg hunt with the kids all hopped up on Chocolate and excitement, to make you think, Yeah, Um, Maybe NOT.

Actually, the Easter afternoon was fun, the kids were cute and (mostly) in good spirits, the company was fabulous as always, and the FOOD! Yummy brunch food, all eggy and meaty and muffiny (though I confess, the whole Gluton-free muffin thang - No Thanks!). I think there may have been fruit, but once my eyes came in contact with the bacon, I had nothing but love for those greasy pork slices. Okay so that sounds gross. But it was really tasty and I only had two slices, okay fine, I had THREE. I can't take the interrogation. I definitely wouldn't last within the confines of CTU.

Then I had to sneak my hand into the kid's Easter baskets to steal some chocolate eggs, you know, so the kiddies don't get sick on too much of a good thing. Really, I was HELPING them. Okay fine! I wanted some candy. When you have your own kids, you can legitimately take their candy. Cousin Tracing has to be more Stelth in her approach. I find a nice hug and cheek squeeze can distract them long enough to reach in, and take something. But be warned, only go for the small foil wrapped eggs, anything larger or different, and you will be caught.

In case you were feeling sorry for me, not to worry, My mom sent me a card with $10 in it, so I could buy some goodies of my own. So, I did buy some Mini-eggs, and a cream egg and rented a movie, stuffing my face with Easter's sweet bounty.

And now that the chocolate is gone, I need to head back to the Gym. Ugh. Why can't chocolate be a food group dammit? More than that, why can't it be one of the building blocks of nutritional health? Why?

Happy Eater (oops..I mean EASTER),
T.

Dear Sweet Lady in the Security Uniform who Asked me for ID

Dear Sweet Lady in the Security Uniform who Asked me for ID,

How did you know that I was down about turning 30? When I walked into the casino last night, and you practically jumped in front of me to stop me from entering, I'll admit, I was a little shocked. I looked around, thinking I must have done something wrong. But when you asked me my age, and I stood there for a second, bewildered, I thought, " Is this sweet lady, really asking me MY AGE?". Then as I sputtered out, 30, and you looked SURPRISED, I could have just kissed you. I hope you appreciate that I didn't kiss you, but you were so sweet for asking so I didn't want to scare you. Obviously, you could sense that I really wanted validation that I didn't look old. Thank you so much.

I have copied this letter to your casino supervisor because I really think you may have found your true calling. I am so proud of you and I think that your boss should know about it. It is a rare thing to find a career so suited to oneself. I hope you get to work the front entrance security booth forever. I am a little worried about you though because I thought you might have looked a little tired and I wouldn't want you to have to go on sick leave or anything. Are you eating healthy? Have you been sleeping well? I find that regular exercise, like walking or yoga will also help you live longer, and thus work at your dream career a little bit longer. Should I ever come to the casino again, I hope you will be there to ask me for ID, I could tell you really cared about my feelings.

Take care Sweet Lady,
Tracy (You know, the girl who you asked for ID)

P.S. If you are feeling under the weather, try Echinchea, it is really good for combating a nasty cold.

When THE GIRLS come out, You better RUN

Dammit! Bernice just deleted this post by jumping up on the keyboard. It was good one folks, and now I'm really pissed off at that little furry bee-otch.

GRRRR. Okay, so here are the vital points of the post that got deleted by evil cat:
1. Tracy went out on Friday night with the girls, and "THE GIRLS"
2. Tracy was celebrating her birthday
3. Tracy had fun with gals and had nice dinner
4. Tracy drinks a lot
5. Tracy gets attention of many guys at hip pub-style bar with THE GIRLS
6. Tracy gets drink bought for her from guy across the bar.
7. Tracy drinks more, falls off barstool into the arms of guys sitting next to her, maybe more than once
8. Tracy hits on cutie bartender who brings the gals lots of drinkies
9. Friend tries to stop Tracy from giving bartender a coaster, with the following written on it:
Tracy, Phone # and YOU = YUMMY
10. Tracy gets mad at friend (not really), and vows to give it to bartender anyway
11. Tracy hands bartender coaster with her digits on it leans forward so Bartender can get better view of THE GIRLS, and says "So if you and your girl ever break up, you should call me"
12. Tracy, the girls, and THE GIRLS head home.
13. Tracy awakens next morning of broken memories of night prior.
14. Tracy is embarrassed, but laughs, she had fun.

So that was what the post was about, stop it Bernice! Now Bernice wants to delete this post too, maybe she is trying to protect my good name?

My friend Jen just told me that if ever I switched teams, I would never be the "Butchy Lesbian". AWWWW. I could just kiss her (but not in the lesbian way). Some people just say the sweetest things.

Thirty is the New Twenty

Today I am 30 and 1 day. I had put of writing about turning 30, cause believe me I was DREADING turning 30. And I've been driving my friends and family nuts with my negative attitude toward my birthday. I was actually going to have a nice celebration in TO which I called off, because I just didn't want to do it. I didn't want to have this big birthday thing. So yesterday, I awoke with some trepidation, after having not slept that great the night before, and looked at myself in the mirror, checked to see if I had suddenly gotten grey hair overnight (I checked the nooney too - you never know.) and thought, "YOU CAN DO THIS! " Not that I had any choice obviously, but I held out this secret hope that it wouldn't happen.

Let me clarify for all of you who are reading this thinking, "that bee-otch, I'm over 30, it ain't bad, what's her problem?", its not that I think 30 is old. I don't. My whole issue doesn't have to do so much with the actual age, but with what the age represents. Remember when you were a kid, and you thought about growing older, and you thought:

"I'm gonna get married when I'm 22 in Florida then I'm gonna have 2 kids, twin girls at 25 and their names are going to be Kathleen and Diana ( I was 14), and I'm gonna be a lawyer (WTF?) and my house is going to be big and blue with a pool in the backyard, and I'm driving a silver Porche."

Well, as childish as it seems, I kinda thought it might happen. I don't mean exactly the details, but I thought I would have a LIFE by 30. I thought I would have met a nice guy, I thought I would have a baby or two, and I thought I would have a house, blue or otherwise. up. And I don't have those things, so 30 was kind of getting me down. And despite all my peeps telling me about all the wonderful things I had done with my life, I just didn't believe it would be okay. That being said, rest assured my friends, I am OKAY. I made it through the day, with no tears. And as the title of my blog says, "Thirty is the new Twenty".

Actually, it turned out to be a nice birthday. I want to send hugs and kisses to all the people who sent me birthday wishes, cards and emails. I want to thank my sweetie-pie Sister for her awesome tribute to moi on her blog : www.iknowthismuchistrue.blogspot.com, I want to thank my co-workers for taking me to lunch, my friend for sending me pretty flowers, me ma&pa for taking me for a yummy Greek dinner and the presents.

Well enough of all this sentimentality, I'm going to go gorge myself on leftover birthday cheesecake. MMMM Cake (Thanks Mom)!!! I mean, hey I'm old now right, time to let myself go....

Wait, are my boobs saggier?? I gotta go check this shit out. later.

T.

Blame it on the Train

I'm an asshole. Okay that might be a little too self depreciating, but hey its who I am. So yesterday I was supposed to meet a couple of friends in TO for outdoor skating but the universe was conspiring against me. Don't you hate when that happens. Psychic Joan, why didn't you tell me??? I had decided to take the train in, cause 1.driving in TO is retarded, and 2. I don't have a clue where there would be parking near Union. I think you can tell where this is going - I miss the train.

Reasons I miss the train:
1. I decide to straighten my hair with a flat iron, cause I want my hair to look pretty when it flys around while I'm doing face plants on the ice.
2. I can't decide on a pair of pants, cause all my jeans are saggy-bottom jeans, which is unflattering and I don't want to look like shite while skating. I know you're all thinking, "but she's just going skating..." yeah yeah I know, but I want to look GOOD. Finally settle on a pair of saggy bottom black pants. At least they aren't as bad.
3. Which sweater? Can't decide. AAACK. Then I pick a black one. Of course. Why I took so long to ponder this is beyond me. Don't I aways end up wearing the same sweater?
4. It snowing and my car is buried under a mountain of snow so I have to clean it off. The scraper is somewhere inside my car, buried under gym clothes and papers and empty tupperware containers and garbage.
5. Other people can't drive worth shit in the snow. I'm from the maritimes, we were born knowing how to drive in the snow. You learn it somewhere in between walking and talking.
6. Highway. snow plow. Fuck.
7. I'm heading into the station and stupid arse in front of me is in my lane, but not turning right like I want to, so I have to WAIT for the light to turn green before I can turn.
8. I pay. My conscience is my downfall. The train is on the honor system. 9 times out of 10, they don't come around to check if you have a ticket..but what if this is that one time. Dammit.
9. The train is sitting on the furthest track from the station. I bust a move, down the stairs, underground, run along, up the stairs onto the track.
10.It pulls away. FUCK! I feel so rejected.

So here's the real asshole part. I forget my friend's cell phone number. I don't call her on it that often, cause usually I talk to her while she's at home, while I'm at home. Cause we are at home a lot. Cause we have no life. (She'll be mad I grouped her in with my depressing existence. Angry comments by her to follow. tee hee). Anyway, I'm standing in the station, looking like an idiot trying my damnest to remember her number. Then I search in my purse thinking it must be in there somehwere. Its not. STUPID STUPID STUPID! I ask the ticket agent if there's another train or a bus or a canoe, anything, but there isn't for an hour. Well then I'm just pissed off, and feeling defeated. You know when you just give up. You're like " well thats it. I have to go home now. The gods hate me and will forever try to get in my way of skating with my gorgeous straight hair and pink lip gloss. I'm packing it in. its not worth it. Its OVER" . Plus I have to go home. In order to call her and tell her I missed the train. And if I go home of course, I can't go at all, cause by then it will be too late. Oh life is cruel. Actually Saturday afternoon train schedules are cruel and my saggy bottom pants are cruel and Canadian winter driving is cruel. Life just is what it is. So I head home. Blah.

I didn't even get a chance to dazzle 'em with my mad (cow) skills.

Resolution for the day: Carry my peeps' phone numbers with me at all times. (Notice how my resolution is not to spend less time on my hair. A girl has to have PRIORITIES).

Modern World

YAY!!! I have finally joined the the rest of the friggin modern world. I have my very own a computer. Man this has been a long time coming. Its not the greatest piece of equipment, but hell I didn't pay for it. I whined and bitched and my work gave it to me in case I need to do work on the weekends. Now I won't have to go into the office if I get paged or something. This is fabulous because I hardly ever get paged. Oh the sheer joy.

I'm going skating tomorrow. Outside. In Public. I have not been skating in AGES, years, eons. I don't know if I even remember how to skate so it should prove to be entertaining for my friends. And possibly frightening for the unsuspecting kids out trying to enjoy an afternoon of winter sport. I have dug out my hot pink skating outfit, and have spent the evening sewing sequins on the front so I can look pretty while attempting my triple sow cows and stuff.

Can I just say that me and sports don't mix. I have never been athletic. When I was five my parents signed me up for softball or T-ball or some damn thing. I don't really remember why, but it probably had something to do with my little boyfriend (kid next door) being on a team. I wanted to do everything he did. Anyway, I sucked. Actually who knows if I really sucked. When you are five and in the outfield, grass is pretty interesting, so is scratching at your nose and ass, you aren't exactly honing any skills while picking buttercups. But really I just wanted to be at home because cartoons were on Saturday mornings, and we all know that CARTOONS are on Saturday mornings. DUH. So yeah, I whined that i didn't want to go it anymore. Pretty sad that I chose Loony Tunes and Smurfs over social interaction. Is this why I'm fucked up? Then there were swimming lessons, but I grew boobs a little earlier than all my friends... hell I grew boobs before half of the high school kids did (the girl half - haha)... and I didn't want people looking at me in my bathing suit, so that was out.

Well the DC is getting low, and I'm running out of steam.... and I just gotta get some fringe on my skating outfit, so ciao.

You know that co-worker who out of the blue will make some random statement that makes no sense? Yeah, well I AM that co-Worker. God, I hate myself sometimes.

Darien and I take on the World.

I THOUGHT I was open-minded. Turns out, I'm a closed off - unfeeling individual. Okay, so that's not exactly what the psychic said... it was what she DIDN'T say. I was all gung-ho to go to my first psychic reading. I have never gotten anything read, tea leaves, palms what have you, so when my boss said that her neighbor was having a psychic come in to do readings, I was all over it. So I go, to this woman's house whom I've never met, and to be not-so-nice, would never really want to meet, especially in a dark alley. But that is neither here nor there. I'm waiting my turn, and the other ladies who have already gone in, are chatting excitedly about what the psychic woman said. How she told them about future sucesses in careers and identified dead people they knew and that they were in a better place or watching over them... and I'm thinking "Wow, this is pretty cool".

So I'm up, in I go to meet Psychic Joan. I just know this woman is going to tell me when I'm gonna meet the man of my dreams and about that raise, and that my sweet dear-departed grannie is looking out for me from beyond the grave. Alas, it was not to be. I shuffle the tarot cards and put them into piles, Psychic Joan starts her reading... "lots of changes.... and education.... and a future move. " Okay.

PJ: Are you in school
Me: No
PJ: Are you going back to school
Me: God, No. (I went to university for 6 years people. I am DONE.)
PJ: Hmmmm. Well I see a lot of education.
Me: Okay?

She asks how old I am. I tell her. 29. She was puzzled.
PJ: I thought you were 18.
Me: Nope I'm 29
PJ: Well, um you are going to settle down but not for like 10 years.
Me: Like get married, settled down?
PJ: Yeah, with an older man.
Me: Who-hooo, like an oil tycoon?
PJ: No, a regular guy.
Me: Shit.

That was really it, nothing for me to go, wow this chick really knows stuff. It was all so GENERIC.

Anyway, the best part of my reading, was PJ telling me about my spirit guide, a blonde boy named Darien who plays guitar for me and protects me against knives. So basically the only reason I have all my digits, is because of Darien. "Thanks Buddy!". And here I am mocking the spirit world. I guess if I end up slicing my pinky finger off, it will be because I have pissed off Darien. "You know I love you, right" Play me a tune.

So that was my first reading, pretty basic and not anything good to look forward to, its just me and spirit guide for the next ten years, and then i get to settle down with a grey-haired "regular" guy. YIPEE!