This is what you’ll be pulling out from the vacuum for the rest of your life:
Suggestion: It’s probably in your best interest to agree with me when I say we should rip up the carpets and lay hardwood down instead.
Love,
Your adoring wife-to-be
If you suddenly found yourself pregnant, not married, not dating anyone, and ready to give birth, what would your first thoughts be? Perhaps, who is the father? Or maybe, what is going to happen to my future? Something sensible, certainly.
Apparently, my first thoughts would be: “Natural birth or epidural?”
Last night, I found myself in a rather tricky situation. I was suddenly pregnant and ready to deliver, with no recollection of how it happened or who the father was. Furthermore, since I was quite literally ready to deliver (I was already in the hospital), I was panicking, because why hadn’t I done my research on this sooner? Where were the people who could give me information about my options? What on earth is going on? Why don’t I know anything? And seriously, WHERE IS MY IPHONE SO I CAN RESEARCH THIS?
I woke up extremely disturbed, as you can probably imagine. I also woke up with the strangest resolve to do more research on natural births, because I hate going into things without first doing my research.
I wish I could tell you this was the strangest dream I’ve ever had, but I can’t. However, it begs the question: What is the strangest dream you’ve ever had, and did it involve babies falling out of your uterus?
You know how sometimes, you get that nagging feeling that you’ve forgotten something important, but you can’t remember what it is?
For several weeks now, I’ve been getting that feeling—almost every single day. At first, I patiently went through my planner, email, voicemail and facebook events looking for something I was forgetting. There was nothing. Thinking my body had made a mistake in sending me this ‘feeling’, I ignored it, waiting for my body to correct itself. But it didn’t. It hasn’t.
I’ve raked my brain several times since… deadlines? important dates? birthdays? special events? unreplied phone calls or emails?
Nothing. It is most irritating.
At this point, I am starting to doubt there is even something I have unknowingly forgotten. But the feeling of unease hasn’t gone away, and I am left with two options: either my body has gone crazy, or I have. Neither look good.
Has this ever happened to you? And if it has—how did you figure out what you were missing, and was it really that important after all?
34°F, sunny and windy = Absolutely fabulous
Las Vegas = Fabulous
Smoking indoors = Not fabulous
Getting deathly sick from 20 minutes in a smoky casino because you come from a place where indoor smoking is pretty much totally non-existent and from the caveman era = Definitely not fabulous
Taking 2oz of XanGo every two hours until you fall asleep and then waking up the next morning feeling 90% better = Priceless (And yes, fabulous too!)
… And just for the record, “Wells” is pronounced here as “Wales”, so if you try to type it into the GPS based on how it sounds when the locals pronounce it, you’re going to have a bit of trouble.
Pictures and videos to come!
This was spotted among the other bizarre sights on our road trip to Salt Lake City. Am I the only one who finds this really strange, and maybe a little funny?
(Other info of note: It was windy, and pieces of hay kept flying out and hitting our windshield as the horse was taking chunks out of it to eat. And then my mother commented on how, from behind, this horse’s behind looked like the behind of a fat women who’s skirt was blowing the wind.)
Early tomorrow morning we’re off to Salt Lake City, Utah to attend the 6th annual XanGo Convention. Some of you may recall that I went last year and it was an absolute blast—and also like last year, that invitation to stalk me down still stands.
This year we’re driving down instead of flying. This is what my mother had to say about that:
Me: “You know, tonight is election night and tomorrow morning we’re going to be driving through a Republican state to get to an even more Republican state…”
My mother: “Oh no! If Obama wins, there will be violence on the road!”
And she was totally serious. Aren’t Canadians cute?
Meanwhile, I’m curious: Who do you think will win the 2008 U.S. Presidential election tonight, and why?
On a good day, the pattern of my life can be described in only six words: Two steps forward, one step back. On a bad day? It’s those words, only in reverse.
Today is feeling like a two steps forward kind of day.
How is your day going?
My father may be one of the few people on this earth to find the whole worldwide recession slash stock market crash combination amusing. Every day, without fail, he will turn on the TV when he has a free moment just to see how bad things have gotten since he last checked, and when the dow drops fifty million points and another bank goes bankrupt, he yells out the news to whomever is in the house at the time, following it up with, “the armageddon! it’s the armageddon!”
He is having way too much fun with this.
Some people waste time, and other spend time wondering where they wasted it.
In a series of universally-correct, astoundingly astute observations of myself in my natural habitat, I have formally come to the conclusion that I would get so much more done if I did not have:
- A website to write in.
- A tumblr to do everything in.
- A twitter account to update.
- A facebook account to lurk in.
- A flickr account to post in.
So really, it’s not at all my fault that I’m an easily-distracted procrastinator. It’s the internet’s fault.
That feels so much better.
Today I leave for Hope, British Columbia to attend a 10 day conference in the middle of nowhere. I’ve been going since I was three and unlike all my other trips, this one is uniquely different in the way that it is the closest I ever come to camping. Or the wilderness. Or a combination of both.
(Of course, I’m staying in a trailer, not a tent, and I’ll probably bring those hot pair of heels I picked up in California, but the lack of a hotel, city and internet and the possibility of bears and mountain lions makes this trip camping in the wilderness, Chanel-style.)
Despite the obvious setbacks of being in a location where there is no internet, I am terribly excited about leaving. We’re even bringing the boat up, and while I can assure you there will be no waketubing, I will sit on the bow, dangle my feet in the water and try not to tan. And it will be lovely.
Have double the fun for me, internet!
Tomorrow morning at some ungodly hour (read: anytime between the hours of 2AM and 12PM) I will be making my way across the country to visit Toronto for the very first time. This trip will also be the farthest east I’ve ever been past HELL ON EARTH, Canada.
I wish I could tell you I’m thrilled, but really, I’m just sad because my favorite blogger will be in MY city when I will be out of it. TIMING, I HATE YOU.
You know you’ve reached a certain point in your career as a pseudo-blogger when your friends start asking you not to blog about certain things:
The tail-end of a lengthy discussion on those who live life superficially vs. those who don’t (also known as CHANEL, YOU THINK TOO MUCH):
The Friend says: (10:37:11 PM)
You drive me crazyThe Friend says: (10:37:20 PM)
And this is just MSNThe Friend says: (10:37:30 PM)
… Please don’t write a blog on this :P
With more and more of my offline friends, family and acquaintances finding this website (which, admittedly, isn’t hard; all you need to do is google me), the subject of my online writings have never come up more often. Specifically, the question of “You’re not going to blog about this, are you?”
To those offline friends, family and acquaintances, and maybe our mailman: I am on the hunt for my next project and new material. Lock your doors. Maybe even close your windows. But be especially careful what you say or do around me, because you never know—it might just end up on here.
This just came in the mail today:
Check out the issue date.
Talking about a piece of gum that dropped on the floor:
“I’m going to go wash this.”
“Don’t wash it! It will only turn sticky.”
“I washed a cookie I dropped on the floor once…”
“Denzil, washing doesn’t help everything.”
“I know… that’s why I don’t take baths anymore.”
The month isn’t even over yet, but it’s already quite apparent that March has been the month of doing things I thought I could never do. First it was the 5K run in 36 minutes and 49 seconds. Next it was the dance competition (and bringing home my first ever trophies!) I told everyone I couldn’t “wouldn’t” do. And today? Today I ran twenty minutes. Straight. WITHOUT STOPPING OR WANTING TO DIE.
You probably won’t understand the significance of this, and that’s okay. But I do. I remember the girl who couldn’t make it halfway around the track without dying – but tonight I was the girl who ran a total of 68 minutes, running 10, 15, 20, and 10 minutes straight with 1 minute breaks in between. I did it.
If I keep this up, I could actually achieve world domination before I turn twenty-five.
Now, if only I could take my driver’s test…
Abstract thought of the hour: Facebook is incredibly creepy and stalker-like when it comes to publishing information about your friends’ every online (and in some cases, offline) move.
And while we’re on that topic: Has anyone ever noticed that Facebook’s feeds are a new breed of passive gossip? I’m reminded of one of the first things anyone ever told me about Facebook mere hours after I joined:
When a couple breaks up, Facebook knows about it before they do.
What is the strangest thing you’ve ever learned (intentionally or not) about any of your friends through a social networking site like Facebook?
9:30 pm, over instant noodles I just cooked for the two of us:
Me: “Denzil… Do you ever wish your butt was bigger?”
My brother: “Do you ever wish your butt was *smaller*?“
From the front page of The Vancouver Sun’s Weekend Review:
Sunshine is making a comeback.
I know precisely when it went out of style, too—In fact, I believe it was somewhere between “snow”, “sunsets at 4pm” and “hell”. No joke. I’m more than ready for summer.
Joyyyyy to the world!
Allllll the boys and girls!
Joy to the fishes in the deep blue seaaaaa!
Joy to you and meeeee!
You’re on your way home from a fabulous evening. It’s late at night, the rain is coming down, and you’re walking down a deserted street with the one person you have the most fun with.
What are you singing?
I did two things today, two things I never expected to do anytime in the near future:
- Removed and installed RAM.
- Did a “live chat” with an online HP technician.
The RAM part was a bit tricky. There were bundles and bundles of wires in the way, preventing me from accessing the card – it took about 10 minutes to find it, and another 40 to replace it. I think I’m starting to get an idea why computer repair guys charge insane amounts of money to do seemingly nothing.
The live chat was interesting. “Patmon S.” was clinically polite and helpful, albeit a little too robot-like. I initiated the chat half expecting nothing to happen, like, wow? someone actually does this? It’s the little white guy who lives in my computer! He speaks! OH MY GOD, HE (she?) WILL HELP ME SAVE MY COMPUTER FROM THE REPETITIVE BEEPING NOISE!
And before you ask: I had nothing to do with the breaking of this computer. Honestly.
“I walked into Starbucks and they. were. everywhere.”
“They who?”
“The macs. Everyone was on a mac.”
Snorts. “They all had Macs?”
“Every single one. Their little apples were glowing and everything.”
“No Windows? Anywhere?”
“Well there was one blue-glowing Dell in the far corner…”
“But how can that be?!”
“They’re lonely people, those Mac users.”
“I hope you don’t turn out lonely.”
“Thanks, dad. Thanks.”
I cooked a fabulous vegetarian lasagna the other night. The family loved it and I was thrilled. Still giddy from the success of my latest experimental dish, I was idly cleaning the kitchen when my mother walks in and drops the scariest. comment. ever.
“You know, lasagna was always my signature dish.”
“Oh my god, DON’T SAY THAT.”
#1 most terrifying thing about getting older?
WHEN YOU REALIZE YOU’RE TURNING INTO YOUR MOTHER.
I don’t know if you’ve checked the calendar lately, but it’s only mid-November – A bit early to be decked out in Christmas gear and playing Christmas tunes, don’t you think? Halloween just finished and we still have a month and a half to go. I don’t appreciate you trying to prematurely release my Christmas spirit. IT’S NOT TIME YET, DAMMIT!
Love,
Chanel
PS – I’m one whole year older today, and still not sure if that’s a good thing or not.
With Harry Potter completed and tucked out of the away, I can’t help but wonder: what comes now? Will any book (or series of books) manage to break JK Rowling’s impressive standings in terms of worldwide sales and phenomenon? Will any author be able to create an alternative universe as “magical” and captivating as Harry Potter?
Also, if Rowling ever decided to write another book or series, could she “out do” Harry Potter?
From the Vancouver Sun’s article on the Top 100 surnames in the Lower Mainland:
#77 – Wood (664 entries)
An English and Scottish last name, Wood almost always denotes someone who lived in the woods, or who worked as a woodcutter or forester. However, a secondary origin for the name Wood is a nickname for a crazy or violent person, an interpretation derived from the Middle English word ‘wod’, meaning mad or frenzied.
Abstract thought of the day: Manners are seriously lacking in this day and age.
Hold the door open for the person behind you. Smile back when someone smiles at you. Say thank you when someone does something for you. Don’t treat your waitress like your slave. When someone asks you how you’re doing, ask them how they’re doing; being polite is not just for customer service personel. Hold back the urge to swear, finger and honk at the driver who might have accidentally cut you off in traffic. Don’t yap loudly on your cell phone like no one is around when in reality, you’re surrounded by people. Refrain from pushing, cuting, or budging.
Be considerate of others, for goodness sakes. It won’t kill you.
My father, on sharing his personal information on the internet:
“You better not be posting anything about me on your website.”
“Just tell ‘them’ your dad passed away or something.”
Take-off waiting line on the runway at Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport. (Click photo for full version)
I’m off to Salt Lake City! If you’re the stalker type and live in the general vicinity, feel free to hunt me down. Otherwise, see y’all on the 29th.
Fate has horrid, horrid taste in humor.
You see, this week and the next were supposed to be my "work really hard" weeks. With midterms coming up at the end of the month and work taking a whole new more intense, more organized level of my time, I had so perfectly planned to be chained to my desk for at least 90% of this week’s daylight hours. Guess what happened?
I got an eye infection. My body is pissed off at me. I pushed it to the limits last weekend when I worked unearthly hours, and now my body is acting out. It’s angry. And now, because I couldn’t stop poking the cyst at every given moment, I’m stuck looking absolutely sexy with one eye swollen halfway shut, amusing myself by periodically draining the cyst with my favorite pair of tweezers and lots and lots kleenex.
Too much information? Too bad. (For what it’s worth though, it really is amusing – perhaps even the highlight of my day.)
ETA: Since y’all wish to see photos and there is no way in hell I’m posting one of *me*, I decided to provide you with an alternative visual companion: see this photo. While it isn’t of me, it gives you a pretty good idea of what it looks like, only imagine the central point of swelling to be right in the very corner of the upper inner eyelid. If you’re even more curious to find out more, you can read this on Chalazions.
I know y’all have good reasons for forcing us to collect 87 days worth of garbage in our garages and keeping us locked out of our libraries, city golf clubs, cemeteries and community centers, but enough is enough.
Go back to work.
Love,
Chanel
PS – We only have so many freezers. BODIES NEED TO BE BURIED.
Meet Aye-Aye, the love-child-gone-wrong of Gollum and a Cornish pixy:
Now excuse me while I have nightmares.
