What do you mean, it’s not about me!!??!!

So, while I was at the vet last week, I brought up another thing about Portia-cakes that has been irking me. At bed time, she doesn’t want to come into my room to sleep with me, she wants to go into mummy Jenge’s room. She waits outside the door and cries, it’s the saddest thing you’ve ever heard! But Jenge says it’s impossible to sleep with both Rocky and Portia on her bed as they are both space hogs. So, no Portias allowed! But it’s so SAD! I tell her, it’s okay Portia, Mummy Margarita is having a party and they aren’t invited! But no, she lays down outside Jenge’s door and sighs……. Oh, the drama.

So I asked my vet, what is this all about? Why is mummy Jenge the star? What about me?? And my vet gave me the most SHOCKING news ever!!

It’s not about me.





It’s about the Sock! (Rocky)

Portia is a malamute, and they are pack oriented. They want to be where the party is!! Safety in numbers, who’s got your six and all that jazz. Rocky, however, is a sheltie, and being bred for sheepherding in the lonely Scottish highlands, you didn’t care about a pack. You only cared about your master(or in Rocky’s case, his mistress). It was that or the sheep. And you DIDN’T make friends with the sheep. Sheep are dumb! Sheep can’t even look out for themselves, they aren’t going to look out for you!

Portia won’t come into my room, because I am Alpha dog (Yeah, that’s right, I’m top of the food chain, baby!) and Alpha dog sleeps alone (although sometimes she does sneak in for a few hours). Sniff, but it’s lonely at the top! I feel like the girl at the party that no one wants to dance with!

So even though, technically, it’s not about me, I still feel like I just lost the dumbest popularity contest EVER!!

Sniff.

Damn you, Cadbury, Damn you!!

Tis the season where I face my greatest challenge in the battle of the bulge. Cadbury mini eggs. OMG, they are soooooooo good. I actually had a discussion about them last night with Donna. While I thought it was just the crunchy goodness of them, Donna made me realize it’s also their chewy texture and meltability. I’ve tried other chocolates, and nothing compares. I’m not even that much of a choco-holic. I could go days, weeks, without thinking about chocolate except those darn mini-eggs. Jenge bought a jumbo bag a couple of weeks back and I could not pass by without reaching in for a handful of chocolately goodness. So good! We finanlly decided that the mini bag of mini eggs is all we are allowed! The jumbo bag is too tempting! So now I limit myself to a mini bag a week. So yummy, so chewy, with just that extra but of crunch, mmmmmmmmmm. Cadbury, you are my nemisis! Mortal enemy! But like all great enemies, we have a complex bond of love and hate too intricate to unravel. I love you, I hate you. Damn you, Cadbury, Damn you!!

The Great Divide. . .

So, I was watching What Not To Wear last week (the America version, not the UK one, don’t hate me Heidi!) and afterward they had another show on, What Not To Underwear. So, being the TV junkie I am, I stayed tuned. They took 3 women (regular sized women with regular issues – not size 2 women) and helped them change their underwear shopping habits. One woman was 34 and had never owned an honest-to-goodness bra. Now, I already knew that 85% of women were wearing the wrong size bra. I myself was one of them until this time last year when I took myself to a bona fide lingerie store and got fitted. Turns out that I’ve been wearing the wrong size since junior high (the last time I was fitted, lol). No wonder I could never find one I truly loved!

But I digress. . . One of these women had never owned a pair of thong underwear, to which I sympathized, myself being a thong virgin. But at the end of the show, she completely (!) turned around and swore off regular underwear forever. She had been stalwart in her refusal to try one, but then became a champion of thongs. This I could totally relate to, myself being quite stubborn in my refusal to try one. But after seeing her, I thought I would give it a go.

So I went to Sears, (where frankly, I get alot of stuff. Honestly the stuff at those Mall lingerie stores is soooooooo cheap it falls apart after 2 washes) and invested in a pair of thong underwear. I came home and informed my younger sister, Jenge, who, to my complete surprised, fessed up that she too had tried this before. But she said, apparently she had the wrong kind. Wrong kind! I repeated. There’s a right and a wrong kind?? She nodded and told me that someone had told her that there was indeed good and bad thong underwear.
“Well, what’s good underwear then?”
She shrugged, “I never asked. Didn’t really feel like I had to know.”
“Oh”

So I went to the most reliable source you will ever find on all things girly girly and female. My nail tech, Amanda. Seriously, if you ever need to take an unofficial poll or find out something or see if anyone else has the same problem as you, ask a nail tech. Their clients are all women, they talk to them for an hour at a time, and get to know them quite well. I’ve been seeing Amanda for at least 5 years I think. She probably knows more about me than you will ever, and knows just as much about her other clients. So I brought this up with her. And yes, she tells me, there are good thongs and bad thongs. She explained it all to me (I won’t go into detail here as I don’t want to get shut down by the blogger police, but suffice to say, simple underwear is better!).

But, I had already purchased a pair from Sears. So I’m stuck with what I got, and today was D-Day. So what’s the verdict? Well, after trying to get them into a comfortable placement I finally gave up after 2 minutes and decided there really wasn’t a comfortable placement. That being said, it’s not all that bad, but it’s not all that great either. I’m definately aware of them. Perhaps this will go away. Perhaps I need to try a few more. I guess I was wearing the wrong bra for years and was uncomfortable but that didn’t stop me from wearing a bra. And now, I have the right bra and it’s GREAT! So I guess I should give this the old college try. I’ll let you know how it goes.

I’ll give a big shout out to my mum who said she didn’t mind if I blogged about my undies. Thanks, Mum!!

Knit Happens!

So in addition to scrapbooking, I have also recently taken up knitting. It occurs to me, that I can never just ease into a hobby. I must know everything I can! Buy books! Magazines! Supplies!! As you know, my paper fetish is well out of control (although recently I went to the scrapbooking store and only spent 6 bucks! Unheard of!)

The same is proving true for knitting. I started off my making a scarf for Portia (which she never wears, I mean really, she is a malamute and hardly in need of a scarf). Then I made a scarf for me, one for Donna, one for Amanda (my nail tech) and one for my older sister, Ann. Then I tackled my first big project, doggy sweater. I figured I needed more practice and since I was a beginner, chances were it wasn’t going to be perfect, but Portia wouldn’t care. Portia is now the not-so-proud owner of an ill-fitting but lovingly made turtleneck.

My other projects right now are a cape and what I call ‘The Ugly Blanket.’ The ugly blanket is going to be an amalgamation of different squares made with yarns of different colors and textures. The goal – make it as UGLY, yet incredibly fascinating and touchable as possible. Plus it’s great when you only want to do a little knitting, you just whip up a square in whatever kind of yarn you like.

So now I have a yarn fetish too. Like some sort of strange yarn pervert, I slink into craft/hobby stores and stare at walls upon walls of yarn, reaching out and touching some, feeling the weight, wondering what I could make of it. I joined a yahoo group for knitters in my area too, and I’m glad to see, I’m not alone! Plus reading the posts gave me TONS of new websites to troll for my next yarn fix.

When I told Donna I really liked knitting she just gave me a sympathetic head tilt and said something along the lines of, ‘But of course you do.’ She knows she’s even less likely to get me out of the house now! But I like it. It’s very relaxing and strangely hypnotic. Like meditation. Only you don’t have to chant (I mean, I guess you could chant if you wanted to, but then people would really stare!).

So I continue to happily knit away. Don’t be surprised if you get a scarf for your birthday!

Today was Portia’s last puppy class and we graduated! She has made such improvements over the last 3 months! Those of you who knew us when I first got her know the troubles we had. The shoes we lost to chewing, the remote controls lost to chewing, the books lost to . . you guessed it, chewing! It used to be you couldn’t ever leave her alone for fear of what would happen, but now I sit here happily typing away on the computer while she is downstairs, unsupervised and I don’t have to run to the landing every two seconds yelling ‘What’s going on down there?? You stop it, you stop it right now! Don’t act like you can’t hear me! DON’T MAKE ME COME DOWN THERE!!’

I wish I could say I’ll miss those days, but I won’t.

She’s still a spirited doggy, apt to find something if you leave it out, but we can now leave coffee mugs on the breakfast bar and not hear a dog jump up, start to lick it and then knock it over!!

Now, while on a walk, she will sit when you stop, she always stays to the left side and she will heel when told. She can also ‘lie down’ and ‘come here.’ I’m so proud of her!

For those of you interested in her nose, no new developments lately, still waiting to see if the antibiotics will do the trick. We’ll keep you ‘posted!’

The view from your high horse must be sooooooooooooooooooooo great. . . .

I am a TV junkie. I love TV. I’ll watch crappy shows just because I don’t feel like doing anything else. Don’t get me wrong, I also watch a number of good shows, too. What I can’t stand is when you ask someone if they watch a certain show and they say (somewhat disdainfully). . .

“I don’t watch television.”

Or even better . . .

“Must be nice. I’m too busy to watch television. “

All said in a droopy, my-personality-was-sucked-out-of-me-at-birth tone.

Well, it must be fabulous to be you. You must be sooooooooooooooo terribly important! You probably have more culture and refinement than the rest of us knuckle-draggers. You prolly only read non-fiction too. I bet you’re just itchng for the next Encyclopedia installment to comeout. You prolly edit your own dictionary as well since those apes at Mirriam-Webster can’t define worth a damn!

I feel sorry for you if you are so inefficient at your life you can’t squeeze in a half hour of mindless television. I feel even worse for you because you have the personality of an old ball of lint.

Seriously!

So what if it’s sucking my brain out? So what if you burn more calories while sleeping than when watching TV. I need a little fiction to take the edge off all the reality in my life. And there are good shows out there. The problem is, when a really good one comes along it’s too smart for the majority of the public and so they cancel it after one season (or threaten to cancel it – Cross your fingers for Veronica Mars!)

So what am I watching? Take a look, but judge not, lest ye be judged*
1. Battlestar Galactica
2. Stargate
3. Grey’s Anatomy
4. Reruns of Dead Like Me (on showcase)
5. Gilmore Girls
6. Supernatural
7. My soaps, All My Children and One Life to Live (Shut it, okay! I know they are totally unrealistic, but as I said, I get enough reality in real life!)
8. The Dead Zone (on space)
9. Numbers (if I can stay awake, but at 11pm on a Friday after a full week of work, it’s a crapshoot)
10. Veronica Mars (when it comes to Canada, I don’t have satellite)
11. Video on Trial (on Much Music. OMG it’s the funniest thing I’ve seen in a long time!)
12. Holmes on Homes (on HGTV – honestly, I used to not like him, but he grows on you, the big lug!)
13. Mythbusters (on Discovery – those guys are crazy!! I love it!!)

I don’t always catch all of them on a regular basis but if they’re on, I’ll plunk my butt down and watch. And I refuse to feel guilty.
So I hope the view from your high horse is pretty good, because I guess that’s the only thing you’re watching!

*See, knuckle dragger that I am, I do know some smart-ass quotes!

The nose knows (or Karma is a crazy bitch!)

Now I know that I was going on and on yesterday about how I luv pink, can’t get enough of it, fave colour etc etc. But there is one thing I don’t want to turn pink!

Portia’s nose!!

Yes, in a weird twise of events, Portia’s nose has been changing from black to pink (although you can’t really tell in the photo. She didn’t want to pose. Maybe she is sensitive about it??). At first I didn’t give it much thought, but then Jenge said, ‘I wonder why it does that?’

Well, heck! Now I’m wondering why it does that. So I went to the one place I go whenever I have a burning question that must be answered immediately!!
Google!
Turns out other people have had this problem as well. It could be a number of things:
1. Ceramic or plastic food bowls will sometimes cause this. Portia has stainless steel (nothing but the best for my baby!)
2. Lack of sunlight during winter can cause loss of pigmentation – It has been rather cloudy for Calgary.
3. An Auto-immune system disorder. (SOB!!)

So, of course, I am fixated on cause number 3. Portia is no stranger to being sick. When she was rescued by Arf she had the Parvo! Then once we had her, we found out she had worms, and then a parasite, and then. . . . wait for it. . . . puppy herpes (now there’s puppy herpes and human herpes and NEVER THE TWAIN SHALL MEET!! – My first question to my vet after ‘Is she going to be okay?’ was ‘whoa, can I get it?’ to which she emphatically responded NO). And she’s had several eye infections and some bladder trouble too. My vet says it’s part and parcel when you rescue a puppy, they’re prolly going to be sick for the first couple of years. And since she had the parvo, she has a weaker immune system than other dogs her age.

But we passed the two year mark (much like premie babies, the two year mark is very important for a puppy’s immune system) and I thought we were in the clear!!

But then, her nose turned pink! And Jenge noticed one of her teeth was bleeding. My baby!!
So we’re off to the vet in T-minus 1.5 hrs. Portia luuuuuuuuuuuuvvvvvvvs the vet. And why wouldn’t she, we’re there often enough and they always tell you that you are a good dog, and then they feed you cookies. I however, generally get chewed out for something (You’re not strict enough, she’s too fat etc etc). Although I have to say, when the vet said that Portia was too fat (so fat that even her tail was fat) and that I had to put her on a diet, I was like, ‘Doc, don’t you think that’s a little kettle-ish of me?’ To which the vet gave me a blank look. I added, ‘You know, pot, kettle. . . ‘ and then I pointed to my slightly chumby belly. The vet kept staring at me blankly and then said, ‘Cuppa kibble in the morning, cuppa kibble at night. Two or three treats. THAT’S IT!!’

I asked Jengie once if she would put me on the Portia diet (Portia lost 12lbs!!) but Jenge said it wouldn’t work because I know how to open the fridge. Go figure.

But I digress!! I will keep you updated on my Portiacakes!!

Pink-a-holic

Amazingly enough, nothing too kooky happened to me today to blog about. And then I started to panic! Blogger’s Block! But I’m still a newbie! How can I have blogger’s block?

So then I just decided to yammer on about some stuff. And if you know me, you know if there is one thing I can do VERY WELL, it’s yammer on.

So, what’s it like in Margaritaville? Well, it’s pink. Very pink. In fact, pink is my favourite colour. People roll their eyes at me (yes, Donna, I’m talking about you!!) but I don’t care. I like pink. I look good in pink. Pink makes me happy.

I even went so far as only packing pink tops when I went on vacation last year and it was great!!
I have pink keds (which I had to buy in size 9 and a half since they didn’t have the ten, but they stretched out), a pink watch, pink purses, pink shirts, pink eyeshadow, pink lipstick, pink underwear, I woulda bought my cell phone in pink if those communists had let me! (See previous post). Of course, I don’t wear all this pink at once. That would be obscene! I sparingly pepper my day with pink.

Donna is what I call a pink-a-phobe. She fears the power of pink! ‘It’s so girly!’ She says. Well, this just in, I’m a girly girl. You know, alot of women fear pink. I think they think it makes them seem frivolous and silly, not as tough-as-nails as they want to appear. But I know who I am and what I can do so I have no fear of the pink. I EMBRACE THE PINK! I don’t care if when you see me in pink you (falsely) assume I don’t have two brain cells to rub together. I know I could kick your ass at mensa mind games! I don’t care if you think I’m a prissy valley girl, I know that I could rip a strip off you a mile wide and you wouldn’t even know some of the words I used.

So, don’t fear the pink. Embrace the pink. It’s okay. You’ll do fine.

I got this thingy in the mail from my cell phone provider saying I could upgrade my phone. Now, I hardly use my cell phone, so upgrading it is not something I really think about. But since my cell phone is over 6 years old, I decided to treat myself to something shiny and new. Something that I could actually download a ringtone to.

So I hauled myself to the mall yesterday, but their computers were down and they couldn’t help me. I graciously accepted this and agreed to come back the next day. So I went there today and a nice young woman helped me. Now I know it’s prolly silly, but whenever men help me, I feel like they are implying that the technology is over my head. I get very squirrelly about going in when I see it’s all men. They talk in this really low, slow voice with a sympathetic head tilt. I don’t know alot about cell phone technology but I do have a mathematics degree and a computer programming degree, so I’m pretty sure I can keep up. But I digress. . . So I choose the phone I want and since I’ll be signing a three year term agreement it’s FREE! Or so they tell me. But then she (the nice young sales woman) asks if I want the warranty. My ‘suspicious’ vibe always goes off here. Must be too many years shopping at Future shop. I politely decline, because we all buy these warrenties but then when something actually goes wrong, the warranty has either a) run out or b) doesn’t cover the problem. But then she tells me that I really do need it, in fact, 67% of cell phones fail in their first year! And two thoughts go through my head: