Entrapment

The Bait…

The Mark…

And now, we wait….

The Urge to Purge
I’ve never been much of a cleaner, let alone a spring cleaner. But this year, something has shifted and I have the sudden urge to spring clean my entire house. Maybe it’s the fact that Char decided to reno the office and purge all our old stuff for new. Maybe it’s just time. I’m not sure.

I’ve started with my office/scrapbooking area. I’ve already taken out two bags of garbage and ordered some shelves and storage for my stuff. I’ve cleaned out the closet and neatly stacked the things I want/need to keep.

I went through my clothes and have about a bag and a half for charity. I’m foregoing my usual method of packing it up for a year, taking it out again, deciding if I missed it and then taking it to charity. This time, the bag is ready to go, and it’s just going to go.

I find myself wandering around the house wondering what else I can purge. I open drawers, cupboards, checking to see if there’s anything in them that I can clean, junk, pack away or file. I’m sure there’s tons more I could do, but I really don’t know where to begin. Jenge and I already had the Junk guys here in June and we purged a bunch then [in preparation for our basement renos] but I still feel like there’s more to go and I’m not sure if the feeling is coming from a physical need to purge or an emotional need.

I do know that Portia gets very nervous when I start tossing stuff. She follows me around, watching everything go in the bag. And then she sighs loudly before padding off softly, her head low.

Feel the burn!
So, I had my first chemical facial peel on Friday. I’m new to this whole thing, having only had two facials in my entire life. I kinda expected it to be like them. About an hour, a lot of stuff going on that I don’t see since my eyes are closed, some facial massage, some cream, dorky hair from a hairband and there you have it. In the interest of those who want to know, here is the skinny:

It took about 10 minutes, burned like a mofo and left me yellow for the rest of the day [which I worked, thank you very much!]. Apparently, I was yellow from the retinol A which is to be expected. From Friday at 2pm onward, I looked like I had a moderate sunburn. By Saturday night, I had started to peel. I foolishly thought that the one layer that peeled off by Sunday would be it.

On Monday, I returned to work somewhat self conciously, wishing I could wear a sign that said “I had a chemical peel.” However, by today, I was doing much better and someone actually commented on how nice my skin looked! [NB – they did not know I had done anything, so this was a genuine compliment]. By tonight, I think [hope!] I am done peeling. I must say, my skin tone is almost totally even, except for a few red patches, but it is much better than my pre-peel face which was kinda dull looking and blotchy. I feel like I have a really nice glow now. In three weeks, I have another one scheduled, and then a microdermabrasion after that.

Am feeling very diva-ish this week, since I had my peel on friday, I have a pedicure tomorrow and my nails are getting done on Thursday. Hey, when it’s just you and the Portiacakes, you can spend your money how you want!

An Open Letter to Management – a post by Portia

Condishuns r unakseptable. Bed to small. Today, therr was almost no kibbble. Mummy sed she was stuk in traffik. Don’t no what that meens. Therr must bee kibbble. Getting yelled at 4 jumping on counter. Want door left open at all tymes, don’t care how cold it iz outside. Want more snow. Want more sqweekee toyz. Mine broke.
But thankz for the choclut on the counter. It wuz gud. P

An Open Letter to Telus

Dear Telus,
You suck. No one likes you.

People have cell phone contracts with you because it’s too hard to switch to someone else, and everyone else is just as crooked. But you… I hold a special place in the hatred corner of my heart for you. You charge $3.50 for a downloaded ringtone that is a PORTION of a song. I can get the WHOLE song from iTunes for $0.99. why are you ripping me off? You told me I needed a warrenty for my new cell phone because 70% of cell phones fail in the first year. You should be ASHAMED of yourself? WHO SELLS CRAP THAT FAILS ALL THE TIME? [Other than informercial people]. and if your phones DON’T fail 70% of the time in the first year [for which I have seen no proof as no one I have ever known has had a cell phone that failed] then you LIED to me to SCARE me into buying the warrenty. You try to entice people into savagely long 3 year contracts, saying that the phone they want will cost $300.00 on a one year contract but only $49.99 on a three year contract, yet you forget to point out that in a three year contract you are GOUGING them for OODLES more. When I have problems with my v-mail at work, I call the number. I speak to the disembodied voice. I spend 5 minutes telling her I am a business account and that I can’t access my v-mail. I tell her this THREE Times. Then I finally get a REAL PERSON and the first thing they want to know is: WHY AM I CALLING? I just spent the last FIVE MINUTES pushing buttons and telling the computer why I am calling.

And apparently, the issue is NEVER your fault. It’s always the people who put the phone lines in my building [newsflash – it was YOU] the people who installed my jacks [newsflash – also you] or the people who originally set up the v-mail [you guessed it – you].

You SUCK. No one likes you.

Squirrelly Girly.

Dear Santa,

I have been a very good dog this year. Except for when I ate my mum’s laundry. And the times that I stuffed my face into the kibble bag when she opened the pantry. And the times I beat up my pack mate Rocky. And that time I jumped up on the counter and took the whole bag of bread. And that time I tried to take a sandwhich right out of my mummy’s hands.

Other than that, I have been an exceptionally good dog. Except for that time I growled at my mum. And when I had explosive diarrhea on the carpet, the wall, and the baseboards. And when I peed in her bedroom because I was mad at her. And I ate that book she was reading. And… well, never mind all that now. The point is, I am really good looking and look like I should be a good dog, and so I am a good dog, and if you don’t give me what I want, I will pee on your sleigh. Here is my list:

• Bones
• Kids
• Meat
• Yarn
• Another dog
• More Kibble
• My own queen sized bed with pillows and a blanket
• Did I already say meat? In case I didn’t, meat.

As I said, I have been a very good dog. I snuggle with my mum on a daily basis and even though I squirm and whine when she cuts my nails, I don’t bite her. I only make her put me outside 4 times an hour, and I only take up two thirds of her bed. I eat all the crumbs off the floor.

Most importantly, I make my mummy smile.

Love, Portiacakes.

PS. I was going to leave you cookies, but I ate them. I know you’ll understand.

PPS. I drank the milk too. It was very good.

On the missing list
It’s not like I’m the kind of person who takes her clothes off wherever she goes and then finds herself waking up naked not knowing what transpired the night before. So I can’t really figure out where some of my clothing has gone. There are a few things I’m troubled by on a regular basis:

The white hooded knit sweater from the Gap – if you know me at all, I’ve bemoaned the loss of this sweater to you. It was fabulous. It was a spring/summer sweater. Loose fitting and slightly hole-y. It went over tank tops. I looked great in it. I felt great in it.

The burgandy striped top and matching cardigan that I wore when I went to Paris – how annoying that everytime I look at my pics of my first trip to Paris, my first thought is always “Where IS that sweater set?” followed by “I look really good in that sweater set” followed by “Oh look. Notre Dame.”

My pink keds – technically, I am only missing one. But how did THAT happen?

My dance shorts – I used to be in dance in highschool and I had a pair of shorts that I bought for our big routine. I used to wear them all the time as they were super comfy. One day, they were gone. never saw them again.

Socks – Don’t even get me started on socks. I should just learn to buy all the same socks so that when I lose one from a pair, I do’nt really notice. But no, I like to buy socks with patterns, with kitchy stuff on them. I used to keep the Lonely Sock Box – a place to put all lonely socks until I found the other. It got too full and I had to throw it out.

If there is someone out there that is stealing my stuff as a weird way of stalking me, and you are taking things and building some super creepy shrine with candles, pictures and my stuff, come talk to me. I’m sure we can work out a swap. I really want that white hooded sweater back.

Out of the Closet?

My mum and I chat a bit. About this, about that. It’s always sorta been understood that my family are not “Glass half full” kinda people. Or if the glass was half-full, it would be of seafoam green soy wheat grass carrot juice that you didn’t want anyway. My family makes sarcastic remarks about pretty much anything. In fact, sometimes, I think we’ve pushed the morbid envelope far past it limits (I reference Brandi’s last days when her final vet visit was scheduled and the clock was ticking on her permanent vacation to the doggie farm. It is said at this time, my mum and my sister were known to call out “dead dog walking” as Brandi passed them by in her blissful – albeit very very sick – ignorance). Or at work, when Chantal mentioned that she had restless leg syndrome and I said, “My dad had that.” Pause. “And then he DIED.” I laughed darkly to myself while Chantal shook her head.

As mum and I chatted about some recent events in our lives, mum came to a sudden, stark revelation. We had been saying for the last couple of minutes, “well, it will all work out,” or “you never know what tomorrow will bring” and “It could be worse.” Mum paused at one point and said, “Are we closet optimists?”

Are we? Have we cloaked ourselves in pessimism all these years only to be unmasked as sunny, cheery, optimistic people? Those Silver Lining, Don’t Lose Hope, Let a Smile be your Umbrella People?

Shudder.