Urgh. Tired. Long day today; downtown for the second wax, then off to give E his birthday gift. Then waited for D to finish work, drove out to his place (after running errands and getting caught in the huge downpour) and hang around for the party. Help a tiny bit with the cleanup, then back downtown to E's place to meet with him. He didn't show up for nearly an hour; I think I dozed off at one point (which I was trying to do).

Digger woke me up about two minutes before my alarm today. Hard to realize how much I appreciate my parents waking up early and feeding him until he does something like that (they went to Montreal for the weekend).

Yesterday was work (also on not enough sleep), drive home, make dinner. Make the cookie dough (E's primary gift), drive out to get my sister and take her to her friend's party. Drive back home, eat some dinner. Drive downtown to get D; he calls and thought we were supposed to meet at the bus station nearest my house. Honestly can't remember what we'd agreed, but no matter, we met up five minutes later. Drive home, cut out cookies and bake them. Get a nice shoulder rub, then drive D home. Get back home, fart on computer for a bit. Get back downstairs, decorate cookies until nearly four a.m. Curse self for being stupid and procrastinating.

Friday night D and I (like how this is working in reverse?) made pasta, bought clothes at WalMart and played MiniPutt at the indoor black light place. My jeans were glowing as if I'd spilled something major on them, although for the life of me I can't recall what it might've been. The bands of my undies were also glowing when I hauled them out; hooray for white g-strings. The dogs on D's boxers were glowing when he raised his shirt, and that amused us both. He trounced me, which was to be expected -- I'm pretty awful at miniputt, and the black lights combined with the lack of coating on my glasses and my general lack of spatial awareness and overall suckage at miniputt pretty much guaranteed he'd win. :) I didn't mind -- he was really gracious about it and we didn't even tally the scores at the end. He helped me cheat on a few holes. :)

After that, we went to play a round of pool so that I could redeem myself, and we both thought for a bit that I was going to skunk him. He rallyed really well, though, and I wound up only beating him by one ball. I'm not fantastic at pool, and I play by only the most meagre of rules, given the choice, but I enjoy the odd game.

Anyhow, the party today was fun, as was embarrassing E at work. I brought in a helium balloon, a party hat, a card with a bumper sticker in it that said "I'm out like the fat girl in dodge ball" -- something E says all the time, although he uses kid rather than girl -- the cookies, decorated (very very very poorly) to look like action figures, as well as the giant penis cookie, which was D's idea -- and I found a pen at the It Store, where I got the card, that had a kangaroo on the top. When you push the buttons on the back of him, he punches, and when you press down to write, a light inside the thing flashes. It's apparently his favourite gift, although the penis-shaped water bottle he got is I think a tie or close second. Frankly, I just want to be there when he eats the penis cookie; I decorated it with red and blue veins and I coated the testicles with chocolate icing. I think I'm dirty, but frankly, I'm too tired to tell.

Anyways, tonight I may actually get more than five hours of sleep if I hurry up and go to bed. I haven't forgotten about the notes I left, I just haven't the energy/brain power to write them. This morning when I woke up, I sat and watched tv for forty minutes, some channels with my mouth agape, because I didn't have the energy/brain power to move. Tomorrow I'm hoping that won't be the case.

Fuck. Had an awesome huge post, and then it got munched 'cause of our lack of internet at work. *mutter* I'll re-write it later, but for now, the notes:

* roof of the mall
* fight
* dream - does it mean I hate men?/actor/doctor
* cats and Cheez Whiz

New article posted at Whore's Boudoir. I'm a little concerned with the last few articles I've written; they just don't feel as good as some of the others I've written. *pout*

I've got an even more awesome idea for E's birthday, and it's actually workable, this one. He'll laugh, and it'll be cool.

My birthday, on the other hand, is coming up in less than two months. Urgh; I'll actually be 23. It's a champagne birthday for me -- 23 on the 23rd. It's also depressing. I haven't gotten anywhere for my age; I'm in debt, I don't make enough money to move out (as my mom loves to push home), I work two part-time jobs that don't pay enough, and I don't even really have anything prestigeous to say about what I do. Shawn, for example, is the manager of his store; that's pretty cool. Jay, well, Jay is just the man. I don't work out, I eat crap food, I'm lazy, I have no job prospects, my room is disgusting, and I don't want to start paying rent for the accomodations that I have, especially when it means that my mom is going to be breathing down my neck to do things like clean my room. A landlord doesn't do that stuff. :P

Argh. Argharghargharhg. There, I figured this blog needed a bit of angst in it. I received a complaint that my blog seemed too "happy" recently (air quotes are fun), so I thought I'd try to help out. Working retail is turning me into a seething little bundle of rage (yes, I said little -- make your short jokes). Yesterday, everyone seemed to be stupid and grabby. I had more people than usual taking their bags off of my side of the counter (a behaviour that annoys all of us -- that's our personal space), and I had one guy take my stapler so that he could staple his receipts together -- something I do anyhow if they just wait two seconds, as well as one lady actually tear her receipt from my printer. (!!!)

Wow, am I ever turning into Shawn with the emphasizing; except I'm using the italics tag, as opposed to his emphasis tag. Booyeah!

Anyhow, also had a woman in on Monday night who was being an absolute cunt, and she was annoying me. She was going on about how tired and grouchy she was because she'd driven for six hours... well, whoop-de-shit, ladybitch. My family annually drives 12+ hours to and from New Brunswick, and the first thing I don't do upon turning up in NB is go to a retail outlet and be a fucking cunt at someone. That makes me better than her, so she can eat my ass.

Oh yeah, feeling the rant there now. *flex* Anger making... Hulk mad! Hulk smash!

Sorry, I think I'm done. Urge to kill fading... fading...

Wow, I'm such a pop culture whore today. The heat is making me stupid, that's for sure.

Oh yeah, other news; I finished Harry Potter today. Finally! I would've been able to plow through it in one day if I'd had a whole day to set aside for it, but most of my reading was done on the bus, so no such luck. Anyways, I won't say too much about it, 'cause everyone seems to be respecting the fact that everyone else wants to enjoy the book; no one is giving away too many secrets on it. It's a shame that I knew in advance that someone was going to die, because then I found that I kept examining all the perilous situations that various characters were placed in and gauging whether or not I'd mind if they were killed.

I did find that it seemed as if... hrm. In a way that this book was intended as more fleshing out of the background story in preparation for book six or even seven, which will have to be action-filled. It's almost the literary equivalent of Matrix 2, except more enjoyable; I found that it seemed as if there wasn't anything major happening, in a sense... that it was all anticipatory. Unlike 1, which had the Philosopher's Stone issue, or 2, which was the Chamber of Secrets, this one had just vague dreams and people being against Harry and Dumbledore. I'm not disappointed with the book, for certain, but at the same time, it seemed as if the classes and such were very background to the exposition, which was much more at the forefront than in other books.

No matter, it was still quite good and sad. I think losing a close friend recently helped me get more sad about the death in the book, although I can be sensitive about that stuff anyhow. I will remind you all how retarded I was when I saw Star Trek: Nemesis, and had the one tear for Data's death. Yes, I will admit that I'm a loser. :P

Anyhow, too many long posts in a row and I'll lose all my dear readers. :) Time for me to do some work stuff or something... maybe I'll update Bibilophilage. :)

Still alive. In a rut; sleep, work. I haven't even had the chance to finish the new Harry Potter -- I only got it Monday. Cheesed about that, don't get me started. What else? I had a funny story, but now I've forgotten it. Hrm.

Well, D is stupid on pot. S'funny. :)

We went and saw The Hulk on Tuesday, and shared a joint beforehand. Then we went to buy tickets, and he didn't understand how the kiosk machine worked. That amused me. :)

After HP night, when we were hanging around the bar, I was getting checked out (as I said). Then, when we went back out onto the patio, my new gay boyfriend gave me cleavage. That was funny, 'cause he undid my blouse a bit (did I mention I still had on my schoolgirl costume from the HP event?) and was rearranging everything inside for me. I just about peed myself, I was laughing so hard.

The next day, on the bus on my way to work, I wound up with an escort: a guy commented on my tattoo as we were stepping off the bus, and we wound up chatting until we got to my work. Never exchanged names or anything, just chatted. It was different.

Fuck. I had stories, now I can't remember them. Not that much has been going on, it's been a very quiet bunch of life for me. At the same time, I've been stupid busy -- I barely have any time to spend online lately, and I don't remember the last time I had a long ICQ conversation with anyone. Hell, or even an evening spent in front of the computer. :P

I got called into work yesterday, so the extra money will be nice. E showed up to bring me candy, and Monday before that he showed up with Coke and a chocolate bar for me. I'm going to do something for his birthday on Sunday, which he'll hate, but I can't just ignore the day; that's just not right. I just had an awesome idea for something else, I'm not sure if I can do it though... hrm. Details to follow.

Damn. I give up; my brain is broken. I'm off to shower and shave, then head off to work. My life is exciting, but perhaps I'll have a chance to post my new article (which has been written for several days and is, much like the last one, kinda poo).

Okay, there have been a few things floating around here over the last few days that I’ve wanted to write, but haven’t been able to for one reason or another. Okay, one reason: laziness.

Anyhow, the last few days… I really have to stop updating this a few days at a time, it makes for a really long entry interspersed with either days of nothing or little quizzes and quotes. Ah well, it all depends on my mood.

Sunday I didn’t do much of anything, although I did get another article written for my paper that’s due tonight (that I’ve taken two days off from work to write, that I’m semi-ignoring to do this… but I’m up earlier than usual and I’m pretty much ready for the day now, so I’m ahead of the game). I went to work, and I had to park further away than I would have liked (or that I’ve had to for the last few weeks), but ah well. It was nice out, I got a bunch of errands done (okay, two, but I was on foot and carrying all of my crap with me), and then I went to work.

I was really pleased, it was a nice and quiet night, and I amused myself by copying things from my maroon article book into my diary book, so that I might make my maroon book safe to pass out to people; that way, I don’t have to watch them to make sure they’re not flipping backwards and reading all about my random sexcapades. Unless I want them to. :) It was funny noting how sparse I’d been in some accounts: for example, writing about Canada Day, I gave simply the facts, no details about how hot it was, or how my shift went, or even the fight I had with the coworker ‘cause he was a moron. I was able to remember it all ‘cause it was there and fairly recent, but… anyhow. Aside from my catching stupid, it was a good night… and I got to talk to Ian Thomas, who was really nice and friendly – and said my laugh and voice were exactly like Cathy Cochrane, Tom Cochrane’s wife (Tom being someone I met briefly a few months ago), so that was cool.

So, when I went to leave, the temperature had dropped from like -3 to about –a kajillion degrees (or so the thermometer said), so I was really looking forward to getting into my freezing cold little green shitmobile (my pet name for the car), and driving most of the way home before it warmed up. Now, the LGS doesn’t have power anything; no power locks, no power windows, not even power steering. I also call it the Sherman tank in cold weather, ‘cause it steers about as well as I imagine a Sherman tank might.

I trek out of work, not very well-dressed for the elements, ‘cause I hadn’t known that the world was going to freeze so quickly. No big deal. I get in the car, and go to turn on the headlights (power nothing, remember). The little portion of the stick won’t turn. I think, “Weird, could it be frozen? Probably not, ‘cause I’ve had the car out in colder weather and this hasn’t happened…” So I try to turn on the car. Nothing. Ohshitohshitohshit… Turn the little portion of the stick again, this time towards me… and it turns. I left the fucking lights on. For the first time ever in driving Mom’s car (okay, second, but my neighbour caught me that time), I leave the lights on. On a freezing cold night. Now the battery is dead.

Crap. I sit there for a few minutes, weighing my options, when I decide I’ll try going into the pizza place across from where I’m parked and see if there’s someone there that can help me. It’s part of the same franchise that the pizza guy worked at, but there are a few of them around the city and I didn’t think too much of it except but to be pleased that they’re doing well (my family is friendly with the owners). I wander in, get a vague impression of the guy working behind the counter, my glasses fog up before I get the chance to really figure out who it is, and I hear, “Jen!”

I peer over the top of my glasses and recognize N, one of the friends of pizza guy. I’d met him on a few occasions and liked him, but never really had too much to say to him. I think I’d found him a bit intimidating – actually, I found a number of pizza guy’s friends intimidating. Not because they actually were, just because they were so far removed from my usual crowd that I wasn’t sure how to always react or respond to them.

No matter. I explain the situation to N, we try to figure things out. I had thought that I didn’t have jumper cables, but after reaching a few dead ends and calling my dad to get info on CAA, it turns out I did. So, we head out to boost the car off of his driver’s wheels. There’s a car parked in the spot facing my car (with a median strip between them, where the meters are), with a couple sitting in it, chatting. We get the hood up and wait a minute or two to see if they’re going to move, when N knocks on the window and asks if he’d mind trading spots for just a second so we can boost my car (my other suggestion had been to push it around to where he was parked, which would have involved doing a U-turn through a relatively quiet intersection). The guy starts up his car and pulls up onto the median himself, so I can boost my car off of him. I love my city.

After that, drove home and tried to warm up. My toes were quite chilly, in spite of my Sorels (winter boots). Ah well.

Yesterday was spent primarily working on my paper, then I went off to my radio class… where we took the full three hours. Urgh. It figures of course, since I’d made plans to go fish shopping with Mark if there had been time, and grab coffee with Ben. Ben and I grabbed some indigestion pizza and sugar disguised as a chocolate suicide cake, then I took him to his place. I was going to drop off Stinky’s old tank for Mark, but he had gone to bed.

So, being the sweet girlfriend and brother that we are, we promptly stole upstairs to Mark’s room to jump on him. Ben did, I didn’t. Hung out with Mark for a few hours, and it was kinda funny; we were lying there snuggling, and my brain was drifting off on various tangents, and then I’d wake up and realize I’d fallen asleep. Around 3 I buggered off home, and then, because I hadn’t punished myself enough, stayed up until 5 finishing the book I bought the other night (the new Susan Andersen).

Then I got up today and here I am. :)

Now, on a few unrelated animal-related notes that I didn’t fit in properly in my little recitation… first, the fish (or ghoti, as some like to say).

I noticed that Peacock and Stick have blown bubbles around the edge of their tanks. This makes me happy, as it means that when they’re not busy showing off, trying to impress me with just how masculine they are, they’re being happy. I then peeked at Dr. Seuss and Stinky’s tank, but didn’t see anything… until I looked under their lily pads and saw big bubbles there. Yay, my fishies are nesting and being happy! This pleased me, as it meant that they weren’t stressed by their accommodations and such.

Secondly, the cats. For those who are just tuning in or who haven’t had the patience to go back through the archives (and I certainly understand), Digger is male and Shadow is female. They are both fixed. Digger is about seven and a half years old, and Shadow is a year and a bit, and they’ve both been fixed since their respective six month birthdays (thereabouts). Once upon a time, Digger was sitting on his tailbone and getting a belly rub, and he got a hardon (this was prior to his getting neutered); he also started getting a bit aggressive with Chloe, his sister, so that was what prompted his getting surgery first. Since that time, he appears to have forgotten what his bits are for. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing.

(I promise, I’ll get to the story eventually, there just needs to be backgrounding here for those who aren’t in the know and/or haven’t worked at an animal hospital/been to a farm). Now, when Shadow was maturing, she started giving off pheromones, which is normal. When this happens in heifers (cows who are virgins, have not yet been mated), they will attempt to mount one another. It’s not because they think that anything is going to happen, it’s simply that they detect the hormones in one another and are trying to alleviate it, or are reacting to it (such was my learning from the dairy farm visit that Meghan and I supervised in grade 10). Mom once saw Digger trying to mount Shadow when she was younger, as a result of this (as detailed above). It’s not a big deal, it’s certainly not going to produce kittens, but it’s not a good behaviour to encourage; once a cat or dog knows what mating is all about, they will continue to try to do it (this is why it’s not necessarily the best thing to mate a male cat or dog once and then have him neutered; he’ll continue to mount, even if it won’t do anything).

All of that said and done… my sister’s bedroom and mine face south, so they get the sun during the day. Sister’s bed is arranged such that it’s in the path of the sun, so the cats like to hang out there and sleep in the toasty warmness (those who can follow my twisty storytelling methods are likely starting to put the pieces together, but bear with me). I was working on my paper, but needed to get up to stretch my legs and use the washroom. In order to get to the washroom, I pass by my sister’s room, and because I’m an obsessive mommy, I peeked in at my cats, expecting to see the little darlings snuggled together, sleeping in the sun, as per usual.

Instead, I say Digger, my handsome kitty, mounted on top of a prostate Shadow, who to all appearances was stretched out, asleep. Since I wanted to give Digger the benefit of the doubt – after all, he could’ve just been standing over her, washing her – I went in and pushed him off of her. He didn’t resist me, just fell somewhat slowly. Because I’m sick and twisted, I checked to see if he had a hardon, and sure enough he did. My cat’s gross.

I let go of his leg and he lowered it somewhat, but kept it elevated still, as if his little throbbing kitty cock wouldn’t allow him to lower his leg entirely (I cannot believe I just wrote that, I’m so sorry). I thought it was funny as hell, and kept laughing throughout the day every time I thought of it. When I told my mom, she seemed to get a laugh out of it, too.

As for the big question: did they, or didn’t they? I’m in doubt as to whether they did. I’m fairly certain that cats always have sex … well, kitty-style. Digger also seemed to be positioned too far up Shadow for actual penetration, and she didn’t seem stressed at all by the event. At the same time, for all I know, this is how they while away their quiet time together, and this explains why Digger is so annoying whenever I’m home during the day; it’s not that he wants food; it’s that he wants to have the house to himself so he and Shadow can have crazy … monkey… kitty sex.

Digger also doesn’t appear to thrilled with my sharing this story; he just jumped up in my lap and had his nails digging wrong into my leg, although that was likely just because of the awkwardness of the jump. I can’t seem to look at his the same now. Horny little bugger.

Maybe this explains why they snuggle sometimes; they’ve just finished having crazy sex and they’re enjoying the afterglow. Urgh, I think this is venturing into kitty porn, and that wasn’t my intention. As well, I have a paper to write. I apologize to all whose psyches might be irrevocably damaged by that little tale, but ... I just had to share it. It was too weird, and too funny.

They knew their love was wrong, but the sun, the snuggling and the close contact had the effect of dulling their reason… They could barely resist the call of the forbidden, and the urge was overpowering. Just as he started to lick her neck and ready himself to start the age-old rhythm, the short blonde walked into the room. They’d forgotten she was home, and by the shock on her face, she hadn’t expected to catch them in the midst of passion, either. Everyone froze in place, making a comical tableau of arrested fervour and shock…

As promised, the material from when I was away (finally -- and with some additions where I felt they were appropriate):

(June 6)
It amazes me how integral someone's personality is to our perception of them as individuals. Attractive people can become less so when their less desirable traits come to the fore; people for whom we may have been less attracted can become attractive or even irresistible if we like who they are as people.

I stand at a majestic, towering 5'2", but I have been told many times that I don't appear short, or people don't think of me as short because I have a big personality, or I'm loud, or I have a loud laugh. If I learned or absorbed anything from Mike, that was it. Be bigger than you are, be personality, be known. Maybe he didn't mean to teach that, but I picked it up, and he seems the most likely place I would have learned it.

We were invited to a final viewing today, before the casket was taken to the church. Most everyone there was family; we were one of the few groups that wasn't. There were two rooms; the first held the casket, and the second held all of us.

Groups went in in pockets to pay their last respects. During one such lull, I went in -- the only one from my family to do so. Mike seemed too small, lying there in the casket. He looked like him, yet not. The Mike I knew, even when he was serious or upset, was larger than life, full of personality. He occupied space. He was loud and outgoing, and he had a distinctive, engaging laugh -- everyone knew it and everyone commented on it.

The first time E, his eldest daughter, came out of the room, she went right over to my dad, who gave her a squeeze and held her for a bit before she returned to her mom and sisters. If the situation were the opposite, I think I'd have done the same thing -- that's how our families were, even if we only saw one another once a year. As well, Mike gave great hugs, and used them to great advantage -- when you were feeling down, when he made fun of you, when he wanted to say good morning.

My dad was a pallbearer for the funeral. That was the mildly amusing part -- my dad's an atheist. It was a Catholic funeral. It sorta kinda not really amused me.

My dad's not very good at dealing with grief, and in fact, my family doesn't generally deal whatsoever with any kind of emotion other than anger. After the service was over, my mom, sister and I went out to be with my dad, and he had tears on his face. I'm not sure if that had been what set my mom off, or she was able to let go then, but she let out a little sob and Dad reached out and hugged her and Kim. I stared at the church, trying to keep it together, and Mom tugged me over for a family hug.

Then, in a move completely typical of my family, Mom and Dad picked some cat hair off my blazer and they teased me for having it there. Something about bringing it with me, and I said something about bringing something familiar with me. Ladies and gentlemen, my family.

We were over at the family's house the night before for awhile, and we stayed at the reception for about an hour before returning to my grandfather's house to change, repack and leave. At the time I'm writing this, I'm once again at Nanny's. Tomorrow is the wedding, and then Sunday morning Dad and I take off for home.

I get to throw myself right back into the grind on Monday. I think if anyone asks if I've had a relaxing holiday, or if I enjoyed my time off, I will laugh hysterically until I cry. When Dad was packing today, I asked him if I could nominate this trip as our worst family vacation ever, and he said absolutely.

I think later this summer I will book a week off and travel somewhere. I won't be coming back East this summer, and five days of running around does not a vacation make, so I will treat myself. Hell, maybe I'll just take my first-ever, brand new bikini and just lie on a beach somewhere for a week. Whever I choose, it will be lazy, self-indulgent and pleasant. No tears involved unless it's from getting sand or salt from a drink in my eye.

In the meantime, I'm off to bed. Maybe someone will forget to wake me up tomorrow and I can just laze all day.

(June 8)
Well, the wedding took place. I can't and wouldn't say without a hitch, 'cause I don't think these things ever do, but oh my jeez were there issues with this one.

The short version of it all was that it seemed as if my cousin and her husband were trying to cram too many things into it, too many other peoples' traditions. And because they had so much of that going on, they weren't taking the time to ensure that all the other details were set. From my sister being named in the program as "friend of the bride" to the doves they wanted to release (and the one that my cousing held pooped on her dress -- funny, but just another sign, and one that I also found somewhat offensive to my nanny, who made the dress -- and it was beautiful), from the stepfather having to overshadow our arrival from Ontario with his family's arrival from Windsor, Ontario -- with them taking three days to do it (?!?) when we make the trek in 12 hours... yeesh. These are just the ones that come immediately to mind at 6 a.m. after no sleep, I might add.

Dinner was over a half-hour late getting started because the bridal party was so late... partly because the videographer was late, said my dad (who did the photography, which they acknowledged, though when my mom, grandparents and sister left, a good hour and a half into the speeches (!!!), they hadn't mentioned that nanny made the dress -- with its unique design and ten thousand beads). As I write this, I have to wonder -- what with the kerfuffle over the cost of my dad as photographer -- doing all his work at cost, I might add -- why did they have a videographer? I initially thought she was just a relative, but now I wonder.

Anyhow, Dad and I left the ceremony before the first speech concluded. Apparently the best man forgot to give his toast to the bridesmaids and presented them with pieces of toasted bread. Ha. Ha. Ha.

Nanny was right some livid when she got back from the event, and Mom said she was just crimson. She actually stated she was never attending any of our weddings, and then the lot of us -- Dad, Kim, Nanny, Mom and I, with Puppy passively smoking his pipe and listening -- proceeded to rant about all of the problems with the event. For at least two hours or so, if I remember correctly.

Yes, things happen at weddings. People are late, things get forgotten, plans don't work out... but my cousin lost the garter Nanny made her. The bride's mother gave a taost to how much she loved her second husband and how much he'd done for her and the girls -- what about my uncle? But there are already big issues there. I'm starting to think that, nice as he may have been to the girls, the stepdad seems a fair bit of a pillbox (yes, that's my version of pillock).

As I was saying, in short, shit happens. However, my cousin was supposedly planning this for a year -- yet there was no flow (Mom's words), it took Dad double what he normally uses for a wedding, time-wise (normally he works for 3 hours, and gets all he needs -- today he worked for 6 and had to shepherd a lot, though he said that usually happens), and it was basically just a mess. There appeared to be a lot of unhappy guests, beyond our side of the family, too. I think a lot of the groom's family may be pillboxes (though ours is hardly perfect, believe me -- I know), and it would do my cousin well to move away from her mother-in-law, who is otherwise going to run her life.

My cousin and her bridesmaids (one word, unlike on the programme -- drawn up by the minister/priest/paster, another real pillbox -- with little concept of good grammar or not turning the ceremoney into a stand-up routine/marriage counselling session) had to go sleep over at her mother-in-law's house because my cousin was using her hairdresser. The mother-in-law's hair was more or less piled on her head, and she couldn't have maybe, just once, used another hairdresser? Sure, so could've my cousin, but as was pointed out, the bride shouldn't be spending the night before her wedding at her mother-in-law's.

I couldn't help contrast the whole ordeal (have I mentioned they haven't chosen the location of their honeymoon yet? My cousin wants to visit Ottawa, but her husband is afraid of catching SARS (!!!)) with Greg and Madeleine's wedding the week before. I mean, I'm sure there were problems with their ceremony too, as shit does happen in every situation, but overall it was a much nicer ceremony, it had flow, it had tenderness, and it did not have so many extraneous details.

[here's where I start fleshing for further explanation, 'cause this isn't long enough yet - the pre-written stuff is now over]
We arrived at the reception hall, and there were bottles of stuff for blowing bubbles. There were also favours for the guests (typical). There were bells with little notes attached, asking people to ring them to get the bride and groom to kiss. Yet, when we arrived, the best man made an announcement asking us not to clink glasses or ring the bells to get kisses, but instead, to sing songs with "love" in them. Why bother with bells, then?

My cousin's husband wanted to have a picture of them walking in a nearby pond taken, because an aunt of his had done so and he liked the look of it. What they didn't consider was that this wedding was taking place in early June, and it wasn't a warm day. As my dad pointed out, they would be in the water for about ten or fifteen minutes, setting up this shot, and everyone would be rather blue by the time it was over. Thankfully, they decided to skip it.

However, when my dad showed up to take the photos after the ceremony (after being driven all over tarnation by one of the groomsmen), the father of the groom was handing out beers to everyone. 'Cause it makes sense to have everyone half-cut when they still have places to drive and pictures to have taken. :P

I was worried at first that I was being hard on the situation 'cause it was my cousin, but I wasn't alone. Everyone who spoke on the matter had even harsher things to say than I.

Here endeth the material left over from my "vacation."

*mutter* As the second person to mention the "right"/write fiasco, Jay gets a punch in the nose. :) I was at work, I wasn't paying attention, I was all rushing to be ready for the stupid Harry Potter evening ("You guys must be busy!" "You guys must be selling a lot of this book!" "Do you have any copies left?" *mutter*), so therefore a typo slipped in. It's not like I don't have plenty of them, people just tend to gloss over them for some reason. :)

Anyhow, my favourite HP-related comment: "So, have you had a chance to read it yet?"

We're standing there, around dinner time on Saturday evening. It was released at 12:01 Saturday morning (just after midnight Friday night, if you prefer, like me, who thinks that it's not day yet until you've had a chance to sleep between it and the previous one), and I was at work until 1 a.m., working that shift. Then, I came back to work for 3:30 and worked until close last night. I have had the time to read this book exactly when? Look around you sir. There are people in the store. There are lots of people; this means I'm busy. Being busy means I don't have time to read the book. *sigh* Not that I'm allowed to read at work, anyhow.

Children and adults coming in, "Do you have any copies of it?" Well child/madam, if you look behind me, you will see there are several dozen copies on display. This holds true for both sides of the cash. If you look behind you, you will see a display with several hundred copies of the book. However, it was smart that you asked, 'cause in actuality, they are all display copies, and in fact only contain the phrase "I'm a wanker" written over and over again.

*mutter*

They wanted me to work with the kids the night of the release because someone, somewhere, had the impression I'm enthusiastic. -the fuck?! I don't get
it.

What else? Lots of stuff has been going on the last little while, but none of it is at the forefront of my brain. I've twice now seen daylight from the wrong side, and that bothers me; I hate this feeling of being exhausted but not being able to sleep and just feeling generally stupid. A bunch of my coworkers and I hit one of the bars after work on Friday night, and there was a guy one table over who kept checking me out. We had to move inside for last call (which was announced about ten minutes after we got there), and when I went to the bar to get a glass of water, he followed me. However, D showed up to ruin that fun, so my potential bar come-on never happened. Boo. :(

Whore's Boudoir got a link on a few new sites (well, new to me), including ErosBlog, and that link is new and has gotten me some increased traffic. Yay! :) Now I just have to scrounge up some cash and actually do some stuff with the site... oh yeah, and write a new article. Got some ideas in my head, we'll see if I can actually squish them together into a real article. Sweet, just found another one: ...sweetness follows and the other one I knew of, Made in the 80s, and somewhere else is another, but it's scrolled off the list of links. So, shout-outs to all those who link me, and I loves ya for it. :)

For now, I'm tired and stupid, and I have to get dressed so I can go pick up my copy of HP from the postal office, where it got routed 'cause they arrived during the 1 hour or whatever it was that my dad was out. Damn Canada Post. Of course, since they were delivering on Saturdays, I guess I can't complain too much... :)

Yesterday was kinda neat. D and I agreed to go catch a movie after I went to see the puppies. Only problem was that my mom's friend wanted us to go see the puppies later than my mom had told me we were going... so I didn't go. :(

D and I wound up leaving late for the show we were going to catch (hey, we had to get candy), so en route, I suggested we stop into Classixxx and take a look around. As we're heading towards the store, we hear, "Hey losers!" I turn and look, and who could it be but Glord and Eddie? I ran over to give Glord a hug, and then we went into the store to harrass Shawn.

We spent a good amount of time wandering around and making fun of the products. I explained why it is that a heating bullet vibrator is a bad idea ("It's just bad!" "Okay, we'll write them a letter that says that, okay?"), and we figured out how to get the bullet vibe in the dolphin's ass (they were sold together, it was meant to happen).

We put on some gay porn, but I lost interest before there was even nudity and wandered around to look at other things. I put the velcro handcuffs on D, but he was able to get out of them, so I said they weren't any good (I was rating many of the products in the store in such a manner). He tried on the pheromone cologne, which I grew to like, and there was much making fun of the little teeny dildoes by all of us. And these weren't butt plug type dildos; these were little teeny dildos. Men can be so judgemental. :)

Anyhow, much hilarity ensued, and then we dragged Glord and Eddie to the movie. Okay, we didn't; I invited them, and they joined us. We managed to only miss the first few previews, so we didn't miss any movie this time (last time I tried to navigate us there, I took the highway and we got lost. I suck). We caught The Italian Job, which Jay apparently did some work on, but we had no luck in finding his name in the credits (although I wasn't sure if he'd be there, anyhow). Afterwards, D drove Glord and Eddie home, 'cause he's nice that way (and since I was born and all, Glord and Eddie had no way of getting home from the theatre... never mind, that makes sense if you were there). :)

Today I stopped into work to say hi to E and see if my schedule was around (I wrote it down before and then never wrote it in my other notebook). One of the managers spotted me and asked if I could start earlier then originally scheduled tonight -- instead of 9 p.m. - 2 a.m., she asked if I could do 6-2. Well, I can't quite manage 6 with working in the afternoon, so instead I'm going in for 7. Wahoo. Lots of work for me.

That part, I don't mind so much. What I do mind so much is that it looks like I'll be upstairs, helping with activities. Dealing with children. I don't deal well with children. :P

Of course, since these are children who are reading, they'll likely be old enough that I can talk to them. Hrm. We shall see. *mutter*

What else has been going on? Not a whole lot. I haven't been getting enough sleep, I feel like I might be coming down with a cold, ermm... yeah, life is dull. I had a really late dinner with E the other night, after having dinner with Glord, Eddie and Shawn as part of our double-date thingy. You know your friends have an interesting perspective of you when they're worried you're not feeling well 'cause you haven't said "cock" yet, and it's only been an hour that you've been hanging out. :-
Anyhow, I think that's enough out of me for now. I could write for pages, but I know how much people hate that (right Shawn?). It's funny, I was going to make a comment about how this post had no Buffy content in it, but then I remembered that (I think it was last night) I had a dream where I was having the wild monkey lovin' with Spike. Or at least making out with him. Yum.

I get to go see puppies today. :)

New article up at Whore's Boudoir. If the stats that some of my tracking systems are to believed, that site has somehow magically doubled its traffic and is now surpassing this one. WTF? I also found a few new sites that link to it, so shout outs will appear shortly.

For now, it's way too late and I must be off to bed. The article is kinda all over the place, but that's what you get when I write it at 3 in the morning. :)

Now now, I know I could write at another time... but sometimes phrases get trapped in my head and have to get put on paper or a screen somewhere, otherwise I'll forget them.

I don't quite have time to write much, so I will do the short version of the weekend:

Thursday night, hung out with E for awhile, as he was leaving for the weekend. He was grouchy at me for being late, but then warmed up. We wandered downtown, looked at some fountains, and I got some gelatto and a street hot dog. Yummy. :)

Friday, I worked, then had dinner with D at an Italian place near my work. I didn't finish my dinner, but it became lunch the next day, which is always good. From there, we went to a birthday party a friend of his was having, and I got to see a bunch of girls strip down to their underwear and dance together. Then I danced with them, but I kept my clothes on.

Saturday I worked, and it was busy. There was a non-stop stream of customers, and one of the ones I had was cross because something she wanted me to do was taking awhile. :P Bite me. *grrr* D was telling tales of the pizza guy, and not a half hour later, he showed up. Weirdness abounds in my life.

Saturday night was the party at Gord's place, which wound up being quite fun. I saw a bunch of people there I knew from various connections; high school, my neighbourhood/the animal hospital, people my sister went to school with who recognized me... more weirdness. I'm being stalked by my sister's schoolmates. :P

Anyhow, there was some drinking, then there was some grumbling on my part because of the complete and utter lack of toilet paper in the upstairs bathroom; Saturday night was one of those evenings whereby simply looking at alcohol made me have to pee. Oh yes, disclaimer: there will be tales of peeing in the following bit. Not graphic tales, but tales nonetheless.

So, I heard that there was a bathroom in the basement, containing toilet paper. I went to such bathroom and used it. Huzzah! There be extra rolls, so I took one -- intending initially to bring it upstairs. Then I realized, were I to do so, the roll would disappear in a matter of minutes. Better instead to hang onto the roll, and dole it out to those in need, when they requested it. And so the toilet paper thievery makes sense.

Well, the girls certainly understood; the men thought it was weird and funny. Men simply don't understand.

Stefan arrived and with him came illicit substances. A contingent of us wandered to the park, and there we enjoyed the illicit substances. I learned that I didn't know how to smoke properly, so I was learned how to do so, and did so fairly successfully.

I had to venture back to the house at one point for another pee break; I'd left the roll of toilet paper locked up in D's car, so I had to retrieve that at the same time. While there, I learned of an upset that one of the girls from the park was suffering, so I did what I could to talk to her, then when the boy in question came out of the house (after she'd gone in), I told him he needed to talk to her to fix things (that's the short version of it). He went back into the house in search of her -- or so I hoped.

I walked back to the park after this with a girl from my high school and her boyfriend (who went to school with my sister and was the first one to recognize me), and he said that I'd said everything that he wanted to, but couldn't for whatever reason. Made me feel good about stepping in where it wasn't my place. Hooray for drunken advice-giving. :)

We got back to the park and hung out there for awhile longer, then it was time to depart. I got to touch the boobs of another girl that I knew from high school, and she gave mine a squeeze. Hers were larger, but she said mine were impressive; I told her that it was likely the push-up bra, but she said she could feel what was behind it. Booyeah! :) She also gave me her number so that I could invite her to the man strip club when we go (I'm gathering a group of people), and the paper on which she wrote it said "for the strip club" -- so I'd remember why I had her number. :) D and I dropped Stefan off near his house, and then I got to go to bed. I was pretty tired and fairly wrecked. It was kinda funny; it took me about a bottle and a half of Smirnoff before I felt the effects of the alcohol, but when I did, it was like turning on a switch. :P :)

Sunday was some more hanging out with D and then more working. Work passed quickly, which was nice. On the way home I stopped in to say hi to E for awhile and give him the cookie I'd saved from my lunch. Drove home, then wound up on the computer until 4 a.m. Urgh. Stupid!

Now I'm up and this update is longer than I'd planned (but is not a 17-paragraph update about Buffy, thank you very much Shawn), and I have to shower and get off to work. I have mad plans to clean my room on my one day off this week, and I'm hoping to get some serious packaging and throwing out done. I'm working towards moving out soon, and that time looks like it's getting closer and closer. I have savings, I have employment, and I have stuff. I don't know if I still have a roommate or not, but I could potentially swing this on my own, if I found a good deal. If anyone wants to contribute vast amounts of funds to my moving out/paying off my debts accounts, feel free to let me know. ;)

When I was younger, I remember having a book that talked about "relations" between men and women. It had cartoon pictures of grossly overweight men and women under the covers together, and one page in particular had pictures of women with differently shaped breasts that pointed in all sorts of directions, in an attempt to show that not all breasts were formed the same and that was, say it with me now, perfectly normal. It's memories of this book that have led to my tongue-in-cheek descriptions of sex as being "special hugging" whenever I get the chance.

I.e., someone asks, "what are those two doing together?" and I get to launch into my little, "Well, you see [name], when two people love each other very, very much, they do something called special hugging..." -- that's usually about as far as I get before I get told to shut up, so I've never really had to develop that speech any further.

Nonetheless, this book also attempted to describe the feeling of an orgasm. One phrase that stands out clearly in my mind: It's like a sneeze, only better.

Now, as a young child, I'd only known sneezes at that point. Even as a teenager, it was later than many of my friends before I began to experience orgasms and understand how they felt and how to bring them about.

I'm sitting here at work on a rainy, semi-humid Friday afternoon, and I just sneezed twice in a row; now, as satisfying as that felt to finally do, lemme tell you, it ain't no orgasm.

Proving once again that Lisha, short for "Little Shit" would've been an apt name for her:

Last night, I was sitting on the couch with my sister and Shadow. Digger came downstairs and jumped on the couch next to her. They started washing one another's heads, and when I saw that she was washing Digger's ears (and even just washing him on her own; she usually just does it long enough to get him to wash her), I said, "Good girl Shadow, there's a good girl." Well, no sooner were the words out of my mouth than Digger was mrehing in an upset fashion; Shadow had clamped down on one of his ears and was biting him.

There was no lasting trauma, or at least not that I noticed on Digger's part; he was perfectly content to have me rub his ears moments later. Nonetheless... Shadow's middle name is Lisha. :P

My poor feet are so abused. I have blisters on the tops of both feet from the shoes I wore to Greg and Madeleine's wedding; I have a blister on the back of one heel from the shoes I wore to my grad. I have a huge bug bite on the top of the other foot. I also have a tender toe from where I dropped a VHS tape on it the morning that we left, 'cause I was trying to fish a hat out of the closet and I knocked the tape loose (and saw it happening before it did, too).

Yesterday was a nice way to spend the day off. I hung out with E in the afternoon; went with him to do laundry at the laundromat (there was new), then we grabbed some Pita Pit and a slice of cheesecake apiece. We were bugging each other all afternoon, and I found a new way to annoy him, but I think I've ... no, I remember. I call him tubby. :) Of course, he said I had fat hips (just using my line against me when I first said it to him, way back when), and he asked if he could call me Hippy Hippy Shake. :P

Caught the bus home, napped on it, which I haven't done for awhile, changed and cleaned out the litterbox, then headed out to pick up D for Finding Nemo. I managed to get us lost, because I took a route that was completely different from the way I usually go (but theoretically simpler), and it's been forever since I've actually gone to the theatre we were at, but we only missed about a minute of the film itself. Luckily Glord et al had saved us seats still (as I predicted), so we were able to slip in and enjoy right away.

The movie was fun, I really enjoyed it. I could hear Glord laughing through certain parts, and after one of them (where he'd laughed pretty quietly, for Glord), I leaned over to where I thought he might be sitting and told him not to get us kicked out. I have no idea if he even heard it, really. :)

Anyhow, after the movie, Shawn and Sue split, and the rest of us (Jacob, Glord, Eddie/Doxy, D, B (Glord's and Jacob's roommate), and myself) headed over to a nearby restaurant to sit and chat. We had some nice chat, and I ate too many potato skins and thought I was going to be sick, but it eventually passed.

Now, I've met Jacob on a number of occasions, and I like him; he's fun and he was my seat partner when I saw Matrix 2 and we chatted a bit through it. He explained the Terminator movies to me so that I could understand why it is that what'shisnuts, the kid, is so important. It was the first time I met B, however, and frankly... I dunno. I know Glord and I talk a lot, and I get interrupted all the time. All the time. I'm used to it, and I really hate it. That's one thing that drives me nuts about my family, sometimes; because I'm young (or they still see me as such), my perception of the situation is that they feel whatever they have to say is automatically more important than what I have to say. It's annoying, and a bit of a pet peeve, especially if it happens a lot.

So, that in mind, I wasn't too huge on B. My perceptions of the evening, which I was typing out in an ICQ to a friend:
Just annoying, kept talking at the same time I was talking, had to comment on everything I said... I dunno, I didn't take notes, but I didn't exactly want to invite him out on any events I plan. :P I was trying to talk about the funeral services and wedding services I'd been to recently (which Gord asked me about), so he had to comment on all the funerals that he'd been to that were United. I was going to describe my cousin's wedding (done by a Wesleyan minister), and he started going on about Baptists. (Which I'd mentioned, 'cause Wesleyan is a bit in that style). We were talking about Amanda (BJ's girlfriend), and debating whether or not Mississippi was Bible Belt (which it is, but I was getting annoyed with him even that early, so I didn't bother jumping in on it), and so he was talking a bit about the Bible Belt, and mapping it out for us: "There's the bible belt in the south, and then there's Utah." (which led to a bit of a discussion on Utah, but not much of one). After all of that, I basically addressed all of my comments to Gord and Eddie. :P

Ah well. I think I may have shocked Eddie, 'cause I made reference to something that Gord had said, and he looked all embarrassed. I hope not; he seems really nice, and Gord says he's painfully shy, and he makes Gord happy, so I therefore start out with a positive image of him. :)

Anyhow, after that was all over, I drove D to his place, and we played in the park for awhile, 'cause the weather was still nice. I did get a new bug bite on my hand, which annoys me; I have several of them at this point, including a really obnoxious one on the top of my foot which started bugging me about two hours before the end of my shift yesterday. My shoes are just slightly too small, so the tops of my feet get rubbed and it wasn't satisfying for my itch, just aggravating. *grumble*

And finally... Digger was being funny last night. He usually sleeps around my feet or legs, but last night he was sleeping up near my head. I think maybe he was more worried than we realized when we went away. Maybe if we're gone for two weeks, he gets used to it, but after just five days, he only worries?

I remember Chloe used to get really peeved at me if I went away for a weekend or a few days -- when I got back, she'd ignore me for a day or two. But when I went to Vancouver for a week (or five days? I can't remember) one year, when I got back she was so happy to see me again, she didn't pretend to be mad at me, she just crawled all over me. I miss my baby.

Cats are funny. I'm going to go bug Digger some more, then get some breakfast and shower for work (both jobs again today, and I get to close again!). However, since I'm closing with D, E and possibly A (yes, the drug enforcement agency is going to be there), it should be a fun shift. :)

Oh yeah, forgot to mention -- new article up at Whore's Boudoir.

Damn cats. Digger woke me up this morning around 5:30 or so, being super-affectionate and wanting to be patted. He was doing this before I left, so I don't know what the reason is, but... argh! I'm tired! :(

I also got my Buffy season 4 in the mail today, so it's a good thing that I'm on the last disc of Sex and the City; I'll still have something to occupy me in those five minutes here and there that I get to myself. :)

Of course, I'm into season 6 of the Buffy episodes I'm watching on my computer, so what's a little repetition, eh?

I told my folks at some point during the trip that if anyone asks me if I had a nice vacation, I think I'm going to cry. Of course, no one at either workplace (aside from D and E) knows about Mike's death, so all they know (if I told them anything) is that I was going to NB for my cousin's wedding. No reason to think that that's a sad occasion, right? Well, I'm telling everyone now within reading distance of this thing, please don't ask me if it was a nice trip. It really wasn't. Here's how the trip went, very shortly.

Wednesday morning, my mom and I left the house at 5. We kept in touch with my dad and sister through text-messaging (along with that and the long distance, my next cell bill will *not* be pretty), and met up with them at a rest stop just inside the American border and then later at the Bangor mall, in Maine. Long story short, we arrived at my grandmother's place about 13 driving hours later, in N.B. We got there around, perhaps, 9 at night.

Thursday morning, Nanny, the sis and I went shopping for about say, an hour. Drove back to her place, my cousin visited for a bit (yes, the one getting married), then my folks got home, we packed, and drove to my grandfather's place in Halifax. Driving time, about 4 hours.

Arrived at my grandfather's place. Brought our stuff inside, visited with him and my aunt for an hour or two. Drove over to Theresa and the kids' place. We got there after 10, they arrived sometime later, we visited with them until about 12:30 and drove back to my grandfather's place. Went to bed.

Friday morning, got up. Mom, Dad and I drove down to the mall for about an hour, where I bought some postcards and presents, as well as a CD I had changed my mind on (glad I bought it; Simple Plan, it's good Canadian music and a decent album). Mom and Dad changed, we got my sister, off we went to the funeral home for 1.

Arrived at the funeral home, kinda-not-really visited with the family for a bit (no one was really talking). We were all assembled in one room (I'd say there was about 20 of us), and the body was in the other room. People were going in in small groups to say their final goodbyes or prayers or steal things. I went in by myself during one lull; no one else from my family went (my dad thinks the custom is barbaric, a view held over from his father... plus he said he could see from where he stood, and maybe he couldn't handle it). At one point, after the first time E's family went in, she came over to my dad for a hug and such.

Stayed there about 40 minutes, then one of the directors came to shoo us all out and start us to the church. Went to the church, Mom, sister and I got seats, Dad was a pallbearer. The service was about an hour long, then we went downstairs for the reception. Btw, did I mention there were about 700 people at the service? They had a service and viewing at the funeral home the night before, and E said there were about 1000 people there -- they were worried they might get in trouble for violating fire codes at some point. They held a prayer service after the viewing on Thursday night, so no eulogy was given at the funeral (I was told it was a Catholic tradition, but I could be wrong).

Funeral over, we stayed at the reception about an hour. Drove back to Grandpa's place, changed, then hit the road back to Saint John. I mailed my postcards, so people should see them in about a week or so. :P I bought some more in Sackville, N.B., but I forgot to mail them, so that'll get done today on my way to work. :P :)

Anyhow, another four hours in the car later, back at Nanny's. My cousin was having her rehearsal and party that night, and we'd been invited, but as it was about 10 when we got in and we were all pretty drained, we vetoed Dad's question as to whether or not we were going. Mom called Nanny, and the party part had just started at that time. :P We stayed up and did various things; I made some phone calls and wrote in my books and read. Nanny and Puppy got back sometime around 2, I think; Dad was teasing my sister that Nanny was staying until the booze and coke ran out. Yes, cocaine. This is my father, ladies and gentlemen. :P :)

Saturday morning, finally got to sleep in. Didn't rush to get ready, but I didn't need to. We were all moving at a fairly leisurely pace, except Dad and sis, who were involved in the wedding (Dad as photographer, sister as flutist). Had the wedding, had the reception, Dad and I came back to Nanny's (I will go into more on those later -- believe me, that was a mess and a half). Hung around and read and whatnot, just enjoying the peace and quiet. The rest came back about an hour or so later, and we ranted about the wedding for many an hour. I kept comparing it to Greg and Madeleine's wedding; as much as I didn't see the behind-the-scenes things at that one, and I did hear, I can't help but think that there wasn't nearly as many problems with theirs as there was with my cousin's. Bah. I'll expand on that later, I promise.

Anyhow, I went to bed late, my phone rang late, I tossed and turned all night (habit with me when I know I'm getting up early), and then I got up around 10 to 6, surprised Dad hadn't yet gotten me up (as we were supposed to be on the road at 6). I had some breakfast, took a shower, woke him up. We hit the road around 7, had no problems getting home, and were at our door by 6:30; with the time change, that's another 12-hour driving trip.

Dad kept his odometer running the entire trip, never reset it; his car clocked just under 3500 km in driving time. Across 5 days, that's a *lot* of driving per day. Please don't ask me if my trip was fun or relaxing, okay? :)

Oh wait, but a few funnies from the trip (aside from my family, itself): every event I was at in the last week, someone called. At Greg and Madeleine's wedding, my sister called (bad news), and D called. On the drive down, Mark and Jay called me. At my graduation, D called from work (he thought he had to work, but didn't -- I thought they might've been trying to get me to come in, as they did the day of Greg and Madeleine's wedding) and E called (we had plans that night, he was trying to sorta confirm them). At the funeral, Ben text-messaged me. At the wedding, D called. It seems people love me best when they can't get a hold of me. ;)

Home. Been home since about 6:30. Tired. Going to bed shortly; wrote a few updates while I was away, so I will post those later. Right now, too tired to do much other than comment that the cats are somewhat clingy and rangy, and Shadow is funny when she's tracking a bug, especially one I can't see. :)

However, animal count from the trip: two deer, one moose (young), one road chicken (i.e., wild turkey), one possible fox, more likely groundhog, one chipmunk, and another road chicken (i.e. Hare Krishna -- no, really). Those are the live ones we saw, of course. :)

Updates aren't really going to be happening over the next little bit... at least not until Monday, maybe even Tuesday.

We left for New Brunswick around 5 in the morning on Wednesday. At the border crossing, the guard asked us what we were going to be doing -- Mom said we were going for a wedding and a funeral. He remarked that that was a rather unfortunate combination. When Dad and Kim drove through about twenty minutes later, the border guard told him how far behind us he was.

On the drive, we saw (alive): a deer, a wild turkey, a chipmunk, mini ponies (on someone's farm), a possible fox, and no moose, just moose warning signs. The drive was pretty uneventful, except for the bugs (black flies) swarming the rest stops, making me eat in the car, and the phone call I received in Bangor, Maine, from Jay, asking me if I might've been able to drive him to the airport. :) I don't know that I would've had access to a car anyhow, but it was still kinda funny. :)

Anyhow, we did some shopping in Maine; Mom was very proud of being able to buy five pairs of jeans at Filene's for a hundred and ten American. I was very proud of getting to eat Arby's; priorities are all over the place, as you can see. Kim and I ate at Arby's, then drove over to the Dexter shoe outlet where Mom and Dad were hanging out. I drove over the Interstate, as told, then saw a left turn signal approaching, so I got into the lane and made the turn... and promptly ended up on the Interstate heading south to Orono. Oops.

I drove to Orono (about three miles down), got off the Interstate, found the return one I wanted, then headed back for Dexter's. I claim that my getting on the Interstate was owing to a spider that I had on my arm -- it scared me.

Anyhow, had to do a screwy route to get to the Dexter's; wound up driving behind it and through a gravel road bedecked with giant potholes filled with water. When I say giant, I mean, giant. As in, the car when sideways to a fairly significant degree when I drove on the edge of some of them.

Nonetheless, we met up with Mom and Dad unscathed, the car fine, and off we went. Arrived at my Nanny's that evening and relaxed somewhat. I chatted with Mark (who'd called when we were somewhere in northern Maine) and later E on the phone (ouch, the phone bill that I can imagine on my poor cell), and Mom woke me up early this morning so I could go to MacAllister Place, as I had desired.

Nanny took Kim and I to the mall, and I got to do my annual shopping trip. Mom mentioned, and I thought about it and realized it was true -- trips to Nanny and Puppy's in the summertime are really the only time I do any clothes shopping. This trip, I was all in Reitman's, but that was partly due to a lack of time to do any real shopping. I got four skirts, two of which I can wear for work, and two new tops, neither of which I can wear to work. I also went through Music World and bought a few CDs, including the Matrix Reloaded soundtrack (hey, a double CD set for $16? I'll buy that!), and because I'm a loser and can't resist them, two books in Coles. The lady who processed my order mentioned she'd never been in a Chapters before. That struck me as slightly funny, just because I know how prevalent they are in other parts of the country, I tend to forget how they're not in other regions.

Anyhow, I forgot to mention the clerk at Filene's who processed Mom's order; she thought that our last name was French (it's very not), and she said she wanted to visit parts of Canada (she was originally from the south), but that she wanted to bring someone with her who spoke the language. Mom said that with her able to speak English, so long as she stayed out of certain parts of Quebec, she'd do just fine. Ontario has a limited amount of French-only regions, so she wouldn't really have any problems. Eesh. Americans. ;)

When Mom was telling Nanny this story, I had to provide the colour commentary; when she said that there weren't a lot of Francophones in Ontario, I said, sotto voce, "Yes, there are three. We know them by name; Jean, Claude, and Marie-Paul." Kim and Dad got a laugh out of it. :)

So, today was some shopping. We got back, hung out for a bit with my cousin until the folks and Puppy got back, then basically packed up the car and took off. Now, I'm in Nova Scotia. I'd like to send a shout-out to Jenn, whose hometown we passed by on the way to Halifax. :) We grabbed some dinner at the Wendy's in Sackville, N.B. (there's a Sackville, N.S. as well), where my family made fun of me for the way I was sleeping in the car.

Making fun of the way I sleep is a family tradition of sorts; I sleep with my eyes and my mouth open, and it is a source of great amusement for them. This time, it appears that my head was resting against the back of the seat (as opposed to against the window, partly 'cause I had headphones in and partly 'cause even when I kept waking up slightly -- usually when a new song began -- I still felt fairly comfortable), and kept rocking back and forth. Apparently this was quite amusing. :)

Anyhow, I'm being shooed out now; Mom and Dad have finished catching up for now with my aunt, my dad's sister, and we're off to visit Mike's family. They were at the church for the viewing this evening, or whatever it's called, and tomorrow afternoon is the funeral and reception, if that's the right word.

After that, we head back to SJ. Eesh... this is such a busy week -- bookended, for me at least, by weddings, it's also included a graduation and a funeral. Next week is my parent's 27th anniversary, Father's Day, coming up is Harry Potter Day at work... argh. E was telling me about the hours the store is going to keep that weekend... craziness! Fortunately, if I remember my schedule correctly, I'm only working Monday, Tuesday, and Saturday that week. Too bad I left my hours in my vest. :P

Oh yeah, and Jay's a whore. Here he was, my date for the wedding, and proposing to other women. Punch 'im in the head! :)

Tales from the evening:

I ran around, late as usual, to get ready for the wedding. Got the contacts in, dress on, makeup done, ran off. Managed to turn the wrong way coming off the highway, so I had to tear back around, find parking, then run into the church. Luckily I got there just before the ceremony started, so I didn't interrupt anything.

The ceremony itself was really sweet; I found myself tearing up a few times. I didn't get to see too much of it, 'cause I'm wee and I was near the back, but it sounded very nice. :)

After that, we (the invited), stood outside and shivered a little while everyone did pictures inside. Many of the men did the manly thing and offered up their jackets to us underdressed ladies, so I sported Jay's jacket a few times during the day; unfortunately the weather wasn't the most cooperative. It was a little cold and drizzly, but it didn't out and out pour, so that was good.

Jay and I drove towards the reception area, but stopped in at a mall to have a snack. We chatted a bit about wedding stuff, and I was saying that I wished Greg and Madeleine the best and kinda hoped for something similar for myself. Then, very shortly after we arrived at the reception, JJ, one of the other members of the group, told me no one would ever marry me. So, it was a warm and fuzzy day.

We all stood around and chatted with one another, nibbling on hors d'oeuvres while we waited for the bride and groom to arrive. Once they did, it was fairly soon after that that we sat down for dinner. The emcee announced that the priest was going to say a blessing and grace before we at, and as he stood up to do so, I noticed a spider inching along the tablecloth towards me. I gave a little yelp and cowered in the corner, as far from the table as I could manage (about a foot or two away). Jay and my other seatmate looked after spider disposal, and I was safe to return. Of course, what with the timing and all, it was thought that I was really opposed to grace, but the story was all explained and laughed over later.

As I sat down to dinner, I pulled out my cell phone and noticed that I'd received two calls; one from D, and the second from my house. I thought the call from home was weird, as my parents knew that I'd be out all night, but I thought perhaps something from work had come up (as they'd tried to get me to come in today), so I checked the message. I couldn't hear much of what D's message was, since the ambient noise in the room had picked up somewhat, but I could hear enough of the second message to run out of the room -- my sister had called saying that friends of the family had been in a car accident in Newfoundland, and that the father, Mike, was killed.

I started crying immediately, even though I wasn't entirely sure I'd heard correctly, and all I could say was, "Oh my God," over and over again. I called home and no one answered, so I called my dad's cell. I asked him if I'd heard right, and he said yes, and I squeaked out, "Dad, that's awful" and probably another "Oh my God," and he didn't say anything until he said, "here, talk to your mother" and passed the phone over.

Mom told me a few more bits, I cried and said some more, "Oh my Gods," and after we hung up I sat downstairs and cried for a bit more. They were asking me what my plans were, and telling me not to drive if I was upset; they said I should take a cab home and leave the car there if necessary. I said I was going to stay through dinner, or at least as much of it as I could, and they were on their way to pick up the two daughters that are in town right now and bring them here.

I went into the washroom to clean up, and a lady was there changing her baby. She asked if I was okay (I had to chuckle a little at the fact that I had mascara streaks down my cheeks), and I said I'd just gotten some bad news, but I was okay and thank you.

I went upstairs and Jay asked if I wanted to go for a walk, so I got my purse and wandered off and told him. We walked and talked for a few minutes before returning to the reception, where we ate and chatted with the rest of our table. I had a few wobbly moments, but I held on through the dinner and speeches, then headed home.

I stayed because I wanted to be around friends for awhile, and maybe just pretend it hadn't happened, as immature as that may be. I didn't know what to say or do once I got home, and I know that's really common in situations like this -- no one knows how to act, so they don't say anything and people feel bad and it's all a mess. By the time I got home, everyone seemed to be holding on okay, and poor E was fielding one long distance call after another, talking to people and hearing their sympathies (I imagine) and so on.

We sat downstairs and watched "A Guy Thing," which is actually a really bad movie, but it gave us all something to focus on for awhile. I feel somewhat out of sorts, and not sure how to act; Mike and his wife and my parents have been friends for longer than us kids have been in the picture, and we've all grown up together, albeit in a distant sort of way -- they live in Nova Scotia, and we don't. Annual vacations unfailingly involved time spent together, and we've gone camping in Prince Edward Island twice together. Whenever one of our families needed a place to stay or a helping hand, we were there for each other, and Mike is... was... the most generous and helpful person I've known. I'd count on him as a second dad, and if there was anyone that I could imagine not being there, it wouldn't have been him.

He and my dad were going to photograph my cousin's wedding together, and I know my dad was really psyched about it. I was looking forward to seeing him. He has... had this huge booming laugh, and he used to love to take shots at me and my sister and he'd laugh himself silly when we managed to riff them off of him or Dad. He was the first one to hear about J and I breaking up, and he just gave me a big hug and rubbed my back. At the dinner table that night, when his wife was a little surprised at the fact that I wasn't as enthusiastic about J's great qualities when she was discussing them, he just gave me a sympathetic, understanding look.

I feel weird in a way about being upset. I don't want to tell everyone what's going on and make them feel all bad -- that's why I didn't tell Greg and Madeleine that I was leaving, or why (R's sister said she'd make sure they knew). I didn't want to spoil their big day, and I figured I wouldn't really be missed. I know the way that group talks that everyone would find out sooner or later :), but it wasn't necessary to make a big deal. I want people to know, so they can understand if I seem weird, but I don't want to say, in case they feel bad. I also feel like it's not nearly as much *my* bad to feel; as important as Mike was to my family and I, he wasn't my dad, so I don't have a right to feel as bad? It doesn't make sense.

So... yeah. That's where things stand right now. I'm sorry this entry is depressing, though I know it didn't start out that way -- I'm just taking you through the progression that was my day. I'm still sad, and in a way writing this hasn't helped (me feel unsad), although it's the easiest way to inform everyone without having to explain it all. This is just my way of dealing with grief; crying, and writing. I wound up talking to E (the boy) on the phone for about two hours last night, which helped somewhat. It was nice to just think of other things and be stupid. Poor E was having to carry most of the conversation, since I was pretty exhausted and not very interesting, but at times I perked up and was more part of the conversation.

Anyhow... going to try to have a slightly more up day today. I thought I might take the day off from work, but I think working will actually be good. If nothing else, it'll give me something to complain about. :)