Merry Christmas and happy other holidays, everyone!

(A picture of the kitties and us will hopefully be here later. For now, prepping for the next few days/hours of craziness must ensue).

With lots of additional love from ^..^ & ^..^

Canadian revenge:

This idiot's been parked at the end of our driveway for a few days. There's been an overnight parking ban in effect. I think most of this is the plow, but I don't think the DB made too much of an effort to avoid piling snow on his car as he shovelled our driveway.

I'm thinking of printing out the overnight parking regulations and leaving them on his windshield, just to rub it in a little.

Normally I don't care much at all about celebrities, but this is pretty upsetting:

Terry Pratchett has been diagnosed with early-onset Alzheimer's.

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I’m going to write something that’s going to come off as extremely arrogant, and there really doesn’t seem to be a better way to express it.

I’m a relatively intelligent person. This has its advantages and disadvantages, one of the chief among them being that sometimes, I smart myself out of doing things – like fad diets (for the most part; I did try South Beach for two weeks), or other potentially self-destructive actions.

One of these self-destructive actions happens to be passive-aggressive behaviour. It’s interesting when I can see myself contemplating something that I recognize to be passive-aggressive, and having to fight the urge to follow through with it. Sometimes, I’m successful – other times, I give in, even when I know the whole time that it’s stupid.

I know this would be more exciting with examples, but the best I can really do is something like not talking to someone because I’m mad at them, or doing something deliberately to upset someone – I really don’t have anything juicy to relate at this moment, unfortunately. It’s just something that came up recently where I was irrationally upset with the DB for something likely stupid and didn’t really speak to him for a few hours as a result. As a general rule, I will speak up when something upsets me, because I don’t want to let frustrations fester, and this is a behaviour I’ve been practicing for a number of years.

Other times, I bottle things up (hello, work!), and then get annoyed to pieces except when I vent to other coworkers. Case in point? If my boss announces to anyone one more time that I’m going to be the next person on our floor who’s pregnant (although that’s already passed, so hah!), I’m going to tell her… I don’t know what. One coworker said that I should tell her to stay out of my vajayjay, which then became my vajenjen. *sigh* I want to tell her that I/the DB is sterile, that we’re against children, that he’s Catholic and so doesn’t believe in sex before marriage… my mom pointed out that most religions are the same way, but I told her that since I’m not religious that it doesn’t really carry the same weight. Maybe I’ll just tell her I’m not having kids until after I’m married; given that she and her husband aren’t actually married (and she generally avoids calling him her husband as a consequence), maybe that’ll get her off the subject.

In other news, I’m actually completely and totally done my Christmas shopping. I’ve given my aunt the gifts for the Nova Scotia branch of the family, my mom has the gifts for my New Brunswick relatives (i.e., my nanny), the family gifts are at my parents’ place, and everything is purchased for the DB and his folks. I still have to finish the scarf for his mom, and I’d like to knit up something for his brother and sister-in-law, but that’s really it. If you’d like to receive a Christmas card (I have to mail out *something* on the 24th, after all!), feel free to contact me via email (litterboxjen at yahoo dot ca) to get a card. I have a selection of cat cards, and this year’s new acquisition (and theme, it seems): penguin cards. Oooh! I promise not to use your mailing address to sign you up for anything *too* awful.

I haven't the faintest what I did on Saturday, but I borked my ankle something nice. It looks fine, but feels horrid -- keeping it elevated is about the only thing that keeps it from aching (and even that, not all the time), and trying to straighten it or turn it to the side sucks. *sigh*

What did I do on Saturday? I got up at 10, ran around getting myself ready, had a massage for an hour, then went home and played video games all afternoon. Granted, I'm incompetent enough that I can get a sliver from dried chocolate, but seriously, a borked-out ankle from sitting on a couch all afternoon? It's about time to give up on my body, 'cause I think it's thrown in the towel.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about various relationship-related issues over the last few days. I had dinner with the AB the other night; it was the first time we'd seen each other in about 8 months. Oddly... the evening went fairly well, but it's left me with various memories and other thoughts over the last few days. Good memories, but... hrm.

Several months ago, the DB had a dream that I was cheating on him, and it bothered him when he woke up. Understandable; I've had some crappy dreams myself. Well, sometime last week, I had a dream that he was being hard-core pursued by a nursing student, who hated me because I was with him -- and he was considering leaving me for her (which he told me in the dream). Often when I wake up, he wakes up too, and so I shared this dream with him. His response? "Only one? Nursing students always travel in packs of four." Yeah, we have different methods of reassuring each other. :P

Although, to be honest, I'm the one regularly sticking my foot in my mouth. I had a cold last week, and now the DB's dealing with it. Coincidentally, the AB has a cold as well -- so I told DB last night that if it made him feel better, the AB had a cold too, and I was claiming responsibility. Apparently, telling your boyfriend that you're claiming responsibility for an ex-boyfriend's cold isn't all that reassuring. Who knew?

I have to admit, I'm impressed with myself a bit this year. I've managed to finish pretty much all of my Christmas shopping, and I spent time yesterday wrapping everything. I still have to pick up a gift card for the DB's father, finish the scarf I'm working on for the DB's mom, and get some keychains for my uncle, but I'm miles ahead of where I normally am this time of year. Many of the gifts that I'm giving people came from the two craft shows I went to (including the citrus sea salt that I bought for the DB and gave to him early). I don't feel that I have any real "wow" gift for the DB, but I'm just going to have to accept that I might not find something of the sort -- especially since he's being no help whatsoever for ideas ("I don't want anything; save the money you'd spend on my gift for our trip"). Ah well.

In other news, work is driving me insane, bit by bit. I make a practice of not discussing work on my blog so as to minimize any kinds of problems, but let's just drop one big hint that sort of summarizes things: one of my coworkers (who pulls shit like this daily), went into my boss' office, crying, because she disagreed with how I'd placed commas and hyphens in a document that she had originated and I'd edited for web-posting/completeness.

Oh, how I wish I were kidding... god, some days I seriously miss retail.

It takes a special person to give themselves a splinter from dried chocolate.

Fortunately for me, I am that special person.

Okay, so I'm finally moving out of this lethargy or depression or whatever you want to call it that I seemed to be experiencing for the last several months.

Ironically, I started this post some time ago and never really got around to finishing it.

What's there to say? Well, the DB and I have pretty much finished all of the unpacking and setting up that we're going to do. Most of my books (say, 97%) are in storage, which is frustrating, but saved time on unpacking. I got rid of a fair bit of stuff, though probably not as much as the DB might've liked, but whatever, I did what I was ready to do.

The kitties handled things fairly well, or at least as well as could be expected. I had them shut up in a room in the basement (yes, we now have multiple floors!), and I let Thena out to explore a little bit when the guys were packing up the DB's place. She was putting on a brave face, but stuck really close to her mommy and acted extremely sucky for the duration. Venus stuck her head in a corner, tried to hide in a little cubby area, and finally settled for hiding under the stairs and staying there as long as she could.

We gave them access to the house after everyone had left, and they spent most of the night under the bed. I woke up during the night to see Venus sleeping on the bed, which was encouraging, but she was back and hidden in the morning.

In the end, Venus ended up with a bladder infection, so the money that I 'saved' on my first month of cohabition and then some went into paying for her to get tested and treated. Fortunately, they love her at the vet, because she's so placid and freaked out when she's there that they don't have any difficulty doing horrible things to her (that visit: a urinalysis, which consists of a big needle in the bladder; x-rays, which means kitty has to be held on her side while loud noises go on; and an enema, which is just plain rude, no matter how you feel afterwards). Apparently when they picked her up after one of the tests, probably the x-rays, she rested her head on the person's shoulder, which is heart-melting no matter who you are.

Shortly after that, the DB's parents came to stay with us for a weekend, bringing with them a huge couch that belongs to Venus and took a lot of effort to get into the house, a coffee table and two end tables. The stress of that visit and commotion (which included the DB's uncle drunkenly yelling at Venus to come up and hang out with everyone) led to some problems as well, but nothing bladder-related. DB's mom was completely understanding; cat people are great. The DB's a cat person as well, but his patience with this stuff is shorter than mine. Ah well.

My folks came out to the house (which they'd seen the previous weekend) for a brunch with DB's folks. Everything went well, there was no bloodshed and everyone seemed to get along quite well. My parents took the opportunity to tell stories about how horrible I was as a child -- though they refrained from telling the ones involving poo -- and I think DB's folks did the same about him. It's since gotten back to me that my parents have talked to coworkers/my sister about the visit, and I guess they were impressed -- both at my culinary feats, though DB did most of the cooking that morning, and at the overall tidiness of the house. I was telling DB about this last night (since I only learned of some of it from my sister during our Christmas shopping expidition), and yadda yadda yadda, I think I now have permission to nag at him about stuff. And yes, I'm ashamed of myself for using a Seinfeld-ism.

Last weekend was the DB's work Christmas party, and pictures from that have yet to surface, but I hope shall soon. I saw at least one or two of us that were taken that looked quite nice -- of course, that's in miniature. Who knows what ridiculous faces I'll be making when the pics are seen full-sized?

I've been doing a lot -- a lot -- of thinking lately about relationships and people I've dated and such the last while, but I'm not going to relate it all here now. I think this is going to be long enough to test most people's tolerances as it is. I think in a lot of ways the internet and email and instant messenger programs frustrate the crap out of me. I've saved many past chat logs or letters or emails for various reasons, and sometimes if I happen upon them and read them, I wonder why I didn't speak up more forcefully? But when it comes to certain personality types or people, there's just no winning. I've dated the victim mentality types, and I've dated those who had the world on their side and nothing short of marriage would've sufficed (and still not won over the friends), and I've ... blah. I don't even know where I'm going with this, or what I'm trying to say. I guess the short version is that life isn't fair, people aren't always going to like you, and no one really wants to see that they have personality flaws that can contribute to the demise of a relationship -- myself included. I've acted well in the past, and I've acted poorly in the past. I can be an amazing girlfriend, and I can be a very remote, distant one. I'm not an ice queen by anyone's stretch of the imagination, but the very fact that I don't always act as emotional as some (i.e., Smooshy, drama queen extraordinaire), has meant that I've been incorrectly labeled as such (UBFM, Smooshy, coworker, to some extent the AB). The problem with me is that I can be determined (bull-headed, I think my mom has said), and sometimes, though not always, I will act in the way I best see fit, even if it means hurting people's feelings. If it's for the greater good of a friendship/relationship/person's sanity, sometimes it's better to hurt someone and move on.

I think; like I said, I don't know what I'm saying, and as always, I'm trying to cast myself in the best possible light. Is it a strength that I can admit to past misdeeds and learn from them, or is it a character flaw that I've acted poorly?

People bug me. Even my friends bug me at times. I dislike hypocrisy, and I dislike when people try to impose their life view on me. Just because you have chosen a particular path as the ideal one for you does not mean it will have the same benefits or results for me.

No, supervisor of mine, I will not be having children in the near future just because a) three women who work directly around me are pregnant; b) I'm living with someone of the male persuasion; c) our parents have met. It is not inevitable, particularly as I am well-acquainted with birth control, I can keep my knees together (shut up, it happens), I have no desire for children at this point in my life, the DB is in no rush to have children at this point in his life, we have not discussed having children together, and I'd rather like to be married for a little bit first, before I start having children.

I also do not view children as the ultimate by-product of my existence on this earth; if it should happen to pass that I or my future spouse are sterile, then so be it. I refuse to feel like I'm less of a person because of it. I do not view children as a miracle, I view them as a product of biology. We are, as a species, meant to reproduce. It's something our bodies were designed to do, much like bleed, breathe, sleep, run, walk, pee, shit, fart, and so on. Granted, I don't equate having kids with peeing (FSM save me if I give birth as often as I pee), but having had several women liken childbirth to taking a giant poop, well... it's hard not to draw a comparison somewhere.

As a general rule, any two idiots can create a child together. I've known many idiots who have. It takes a real person to be a good parent -- and I've known many of those, too.

Just because I have a uterus does not mean that my destiny is to have children. That is my choice, and the choice of my future spouse's, and is no one's business but our own. And I just know that this person is someone whose head would more or less explode if I sat down some day and explained that I would never be having children, if that was the choice I made. Again, it's no one's business but my own, and it shouldn't be a conversation I have to have with a supervisor at work unless it's to say that in x number of months I'll be needing maternity leave, but if it comes to pass... I'll just get the "you'll change your mind" speech that will make my blood boil, I'm sure.

Some of this is coming about because two different friends/acquaintances have recently discussed having themselves surgically sterilized to combat problems they've been having for years with regards to their reproductive organs. And I thought about it last night and thought how unfair it is to have to make that decision at what constitutes a relatively young age (they're both around 24, if memory serves), and how unlikely it is that a man would ever have to opt to be sterilized to address a problem he'd been having with his reproductive tract. Yes, girl parts, in and out, are much more complicated on the whole than boy parts, but boy parts are also much more researched and studied and understood. It wasn't that long ago that science assumed that women were basically men turned inside out.

Anyhow, this stream of consciousness has been brought to you by my cold (and lack of cold medication), and I think I'll end it here before I start babbling about how unfair it is that some of the seats on the bus are too high for my feet to touch the ground, so any sharp turns result in a rather precarious bracing exercise for me, especially if I'm in an outside seat. But I do enjoy busing again, because I get to read once more.

Incoherence, ho!

Also, it's really nice to look at a moderately healthy bank balance and realize that all of that money is actually yours, because you've already set aside the money you need for rent, and don't have to worry about surviving for two weeks on the leftover. Take that, old expensive noisy apartment!

Finally (I promise, I really am leaving soon -- all of this babbling has really made me have to pee, never mind the large coffee I drank before starting this), I thought moving to the suburbs meant a leave from noisy neighbours and ridiculous parties. The DB and I were woken a few weekends ago at 4 a.m. by the neighbours across the street having a brawl that included someone chasing another with a 2x4. I'm pretty sure I've heard them many times since, and I have to wonder if they aren't frat guys sharing a rental space. Ah well, that was a few weeks ago, and there haven't been problems since, *knock wood*.

I had dreams last night about two different exes. That was a strange coincidence, and neither of the dreams was especially welcome.

ETA: Neither of the dreams was erotic or sexual, just the exes featured in the dreams were not the ones of whom I have a lot of fond memories. Some of the Smooshy, none of the coworker -- if you wanted to know about whom I was speaking.

Dear Internets:

Once again, I have caught up with you. Please, do not update anything for a little while so that I can rest once more.

Thank you,
jen

Okay, I have many things I want to write about/relate that I do plan on writing/relating, but right now, there's one particular feeling that's overriding it all:

I hate people.

Good news and bad news all around, but the good news is twofold now:

1. Got into the competition for the job promotion at work, so that's a first step.

2. Got the townhouse we applied for, and I'm moving at the end of the month.

So many things to arrange over the next while, including getting rid of a tonne of my crap...

Well, that's just frustrating. I've just spent the last few weeks working on a new template for my blog, only to find that there is an updated version of this template that I could use that would incorporate some of the changes I want to make.

Ah well, at least it's been good practice with the stupid CSS, and I've learned important lessons, like if, in the process of going back and forth between Dreamweaver and the Blogger template preview, you somehow manage to copy-and-paste your code so it appears twice in the same file, it'll be very difficult to get your page to display properly, and it may even appear twice on the page, leading to some vast confusion on your part. That will also explain why some of the CSS appears twice, and why it doesn't seem to disappear, even if you've removed a whole bunch of the classes.

What else? Nothing much exciting comes to mind at the moment, or at least nothing I'm willing to commit to at the moment. ;) For now, I'm going back to the template, and it may even be up before many of you make it to this post. :)

Good God, I seem to keep going a long time between updates. Urgh.

Partly it's because I don't have a lot of new and exciting things to complain or talk about; really, my life is fairly routine at the moment. I go to work, I hang out with the Dear Boyfriend, I sometimes see friends (who also seem to all be hiding out with their Dear Significant Others, or they hate me, your choice as to which), I stress about not doing anything for school, I try to exercise, and I poke the kitties.

I have gotten addicted to The L Word, so my path to becoming a lesbian is pretty set, and I have finally gotten my hands on ichaseboys.com and whoresboudoir.com as my own, personal, I own all the rights and you can't have them fucker URLs, so that's kinda nice. The hosting company Gord had originally purchased them through is a bunch of useless fucking asshole bastards, so I don't recommend you use them, and if I was at work where I had the contact information, you'd better believe that I'd be posting it all over this site right now. But I don't, and my memory sucks, so I just get to rail about it.

DB switched gyms the other day (finally), and we checked out the facility he's most likely going to be using at the same time. It has a women's-only section, as well as the co-ed area, and I was telling him I was tempted to keep working out in the co-ed section, as opposed to my quickie one, because no women were there. I'd also pointed out to him that he was the smallest guy in the place, because I'm nice that way. This is partly because DB stands 5'9" and weighs, according to the scales that he stood on while we were there, 135lbs. Me, on the other hand, I stand 5'2" (yeah, I'm wee and I like it), and according to the scales, weigh 160lbs... so it's time to kill myself.

*sigh*

I did a run that night, and while it started out sucking a bit, I was able to find my rhythm and go at a steady pace and a decent length of time. Including the 5-minute cooldown, some of which is still done while running, I went for 28 minutes, and covered about 2.2 miles -- which isn't exactly fast, but it was a pace I was able to maintain, and I'm happy about it. DB wants me to be able to participate in the 5km run for the cure run with him, but we aren't exactly doing much in the way of training to get to that point. Thursday's run was the second for me that week though, so I'm doing okay -- just need to get out more. Story of my life.

Anyhow, I need to grab a shower and get moving on the day (also story of my life), as I have to meet DB for lunch and steal his car for errands. Apparently the kitties get upset when they don't have litter to do track around my apartment.

Everyone go learn how to Jennif.

Updated the Whore's Boudoir.

And here I am, another year older (and a few days). What has the last year brought us? Several failed relationships, some more debt, some more mileage on the bike, some schoolwork (and subsequent ignored schoolwork), some work stress... all in all, another year in general.

I was trying to remember where I was this time last year, and it involved the Newf and my unwilling abstinence. From there I dated the AB, then the car boy who disappeared, then the AB, then the French Boy. And now? Well, now I'm dating the Dear Boyfriend, a guy who snuck completely under my radar and yet seems quite right for me. Who would've thunk it?

And just because I won't remember to post this later:



I thought it was Sunday this morning when I woke up. Very depressing to learn otherwise. Also, having your cat lick inside your nose to say she loves you is sweet, but ultimately very gross.

I saw SuperBad with the Dear Boyfriend on Saturday, and I bought a new helmet that same morning. It's white with purple and blue and has butterflies on it. It's rather girly, and that's why I got it.

I also horrified some pre-teen kids at this petting zoo setup on Sunday by telling Dear Boyfriend about JJ's tales of goat castration; apparently they scream like people when you do it, which makes it fairly disturbing. Warping young minds, that's me.