Recent Occurances and Thoughts

• Today, Office-Lottery-Pool-Winner Brent brought in Tim Hortons donuts for all, begotten with his god-forsaken winnings. That diabolical bastard, first he wins my money, then he feeds me fat. I was compelled to eat a chocolate covered donut and two Timbits. Damn you, Brent.
• I overheard Steve the Caretaker talking about continuing the Office Lottery Pool for as long as people want to put in money. I have been stealthily avoiding Steve the Caretaker ever since. Luckily, he has been distracted because workmen are installing new windows on one side of the building. Not my side. The building smells like caulking and glue, and I think it's killing me.
  
• We had dinner with our wedding photographer Janet Trost last night. She is awesome! She has a pilot for a boyfriend, and he's going to take us for a flight over Niagara Falls! I was nervous about dying, but she assured me that if the plane goes down, that just means it was my time.
• I'm scared of my herb garden. While I'm excited that it's growing, it creeps me out that I go to work in the morning, and there are two or three small sprouts in a pot, and then I come home, and there are over ten large sprouts in the same pot. The fact that they've been growing and moving while I was gone is scary and gives me goosebumps.
• I rock so hard at Dr. Mario, way more than Eric.
• My old roommate Gloria hung out with us all weekend, and it was awesome, because I really love to make fun of her for the guys she's dated because they're so stupid. She once dated this guy named Ryan, and she liked him because he was going to be a doctor (her father is a doctor, it's a daddy-issue thing). He had a good body, but a sinfully ugly face, and his lips were fat and pushed out so he looked like a duck. He also turned out to be a very quick shooter and a horrifying cheating asshole, so I like to call him "duckface", because it sounds like the more offensive rhyming word that begins with "F", except I won't get in trouble for swearing, and it illustrates how he looks like a duck with his lips. Aren't I clever?
• My husby is sexy and does not look like a duck.
• I have an appointment tomorrow to style and highlight my seriously long hobo hair. I've decidedly to keep it seriously long in the hobo tradition, and try to get some cool cut which will make it move on its own, like Pocahontas' hair in the Disney movie, but with blond highlights. Then I plan to start painting with the colours of the wind.
• I bought these new bras at a La Vie en Rose outlet when I went shopping with Eric's prom date Cathy over Victoria Day weekend. They were having a two-for-one event, and I found these awesome gel-bras that fit great. Made my breasts look supported and plump, but not over-the-top (nearly impossible anyway, with my lack of breast fat - honestly, why do I need so much fat in my thighs? Prioritize, for god's sake! My boobs are starving!!). This was my first time buying gel bras, and since wearing them, I have discovered that plastic gel sacs pressed against my breasts all day makes them sweaty. As previously discussed, the first thing I do when I get in the house is take off all my clothes. Last week, Eric copped a feel and then giggled and said "Your boobies are sweaty!" There was no sex for a week after that.

And finally,

• Eric made the grievous mistake of not including my two gym tank tops in his laundry schedule in a week where my uterine lining discharges from my body. This was discovered as we were preparing for a trip to the gym, and resulted in a sparky exchange, wherein it was decreed that he is now responsible for hunting down and purchasing a copy of The Brady Bunch Movie on DVD for me by tomorrow evening.