Bored and feeling uncreative, so here’s a stolen meme for you.

Explain your relationship status:
Married – and coming up on one year this Sunday.

How many people have you kissed this year?
Calendar? Probably just the one, if cheek kisses and the cats don’t count.

What did you wear today?
Patterned scooped-neck shirt, jean skirt.

How many windows are open on your computer?
3

What are you doing after this?
Going to find more food.

How tall are you?
5’2”

Would you ever dye your hair blonde?
I do on a semi-regular basis.

Is something bothering you?
General work frustrations, concern about making the most of the week off I have coming up, hunger pains.

When you looked at yourself in the mirror today, what was the first thing you thought?
Not bad, not bad.

When’s the last time you got stung by a bee?
When I was wee, if ever.

Name the shoe brand you are wearing?
Feet First.

What color underwear you have on?
Red.

Do you write notes on your hand?
When sometime’s really important and I want to make sure I smear the ink everywhere.

Do you know anyone with the same middle name as you?
Many people. Lots of French Catholics.

Did you take a nap today?
Not yet, and probably won’t get to – unless I drift off at my desk.

Three days from now, will you be in a relationship?
I can only assume so.

Would you be willing to live with your best friend?
Possibly, but I prefer to live alone.

If someone liked you right now, would you want them to tell you?
Sure, I like being liked.

Has someone ever made you a promise and broke it?
Many.

Do you believe your ex thinks about you?
The most recent? Probably not. Others? I’d like to think so, provided it’s with warm remembrances.

Who was the last person you cried in front of?
The DH or my mom. I am a crybaby.

What’s wrong with you?
Where to begin?

Do you think anyone’s lying to you right now?
Right this very moment? Nope, since no one’s talking to me, and that’s okay.

Do you straighten your hair?
No point.

What is the last movie you watched?
Cowboys and Aliens.

What do you hear?
Coworker laughing, white noise generator.

What time did you wake up today?
Too-damn-early-o’clock, thanks to Venus. Then again at 6:30 when the alarm went off, and finally about quarter to 7 when I woke up again.

Last time you saw your dad?
Sunday. He came out to photograph me for his course project.

Last thing you ate?
Kashi granola bar. Still hungry.

Ever felt like you’re not good enough?
Sometimes.

Think a lot before you fall asleep?
Too much.

What will you be doing this weekend?
Not sure at this point. Maybe finally go back to yoga; more than likely drinking coffee and napping.

What were you doing at 8 am today?
Travelling to work, reading the news.

What were you doing at 10 am?
Chatting with my manager.

Will your next kiss be a mistake?
Only if I do it wrong.

Do you like the President of the United States?
Sure, we go way back.

Will tomorrow be better than today?
One would hope so.

Have you ever been not able to get someone off your mind?
Yup.

Do you think relationships are ever really worth it?
Certainly. It’s wonderful to know someone has your back, cares about your happiness and well-being, and occasionally surprises you with nice comments.

Do you get along with girls?
Generally.

How much longer until your birthday?
A week.

How often do you say I love you?
Not that often, though I tell the cats on a regular basis. They’re easy.

Who is the last person you told you loved them?
The DH.

Are you tired?
Perpetually.

When is the last time you talked to all of your siblings?
My sister and I exchanged voicemails last night.

How did you last hurt yourself?
I fell leaving the house, trying to avoid an overgrown bush. When I got home that night, I cut it down.

Do people underestimate you?
Sometimes.

Do you wear a lot of black?
Yup.

Can you sleep without blankets covering you?
Sometimes, though I prefer to have them.

How old do you look?
My age, I think.

Are you waiting for something?
Emails, exit time.

What were you doing at 10 last night?
Dailies, trying to stay awake.

Did you cry today?
Not yet!

How about yesterday?
Nope, I was a strong one.

Do you hate the last person you had a conversation with?
Nope.

Where were you on July 4th?
On vacation! Woo!

Who do you go to when you need someone to talk to?
My mom or dad, my husband, my friends, sometimes a blank screen and a keyboard… all depends.

Do you like to cuddle?
Yup, but not when I’m sleeping. Then go away!

Will you be sleeping alone tonight?
Only if the DH passes out on the couch.

Do you consider yourself lucky?
Not something I usually think about, but I realize I am.

Would you risk your life for your number 1?
I am not a number – I am a free man! Who’s number 1?

Do you believe you have common sense?
In some matters, sure.

Do you ever find yourself worrying about commitment?
Yup.

Last place you hugged someone?
The kitchen.

Last beverage you consumed?
Water.

Is there anything stressing you out currently?
Not overly, just the usual.

Is anybody currently jealous of you?
Unlikely.

When someone says “we need to talk” what’s the first thing that runs through your mind?
“Uh oh, what’d I do?” I’ve had some bad managers in the past.

Do people ever mistake you for being a different race?
Bwahaha. No, not unless my last name super-confuses them.

Do you want your phone to ring at this moment?
Only if it’s someone telling me to go home and finish up tomorrow.

Tell me what’s on your mind?
I’m hungry and sleepy. Though the chicken egg rolls helped.

Did you wake up in the middle of the night last night?
More towards the morning, when Venus cat decided she needed attention.

Do you own a piece of clothing with your school name on it?
Nope.

Is the light on in the room you’re currently in?
Yeah, I don’t have much control over that.

So, how’s the weather?
Pretty nice, haven’t been out since this morning.

How many letters are in your last name?
6.

What did you dream about last night?
Nothing that I remember.

Is there a girl/girls that know everything or mostly everything about you?
Yeah, my bestie is pretty up there on most things.

Did the one person who hurt you the most apologize?
Nope, but I moved on.

You have to get a piercing, what do you get?
I wouldn’t mind another anti-helix, but the ear I’d like it in is damaged.

Plans for tomorrow?
Work, having my mom and her friend come over to help me decide on household decorations.

What were you doing this morning at 5:30 a.m.?
Sleeping.

Do you like the ocean?
Warm oceans, yeah. I grew up on cold oceans, they’re no fun.

Was the first person you talked to today male or female?
Male.

What woke you up this morning?
My cat, my alarm, possibly my snoring.

Is your hair curly or straight?
Straight.

What jewelry are you currently wearing?
Earrings and a necklace.

When was the last time you ate ice cream?
Two days ago, I believe.

In the grand tradition of my friend’s blog, Ali Does It, I even took pictures all the way through — which is something I usually never remember to do until I’m mostly done whatever I’m making, and is therefore less helpful at that point.

The recipe at the link above is a diet cake recipe. As I’m not overly concerned about dieting at the moment, I opted to go with the full-fat version of everything. In short, I followed the directions on the box.

Step one: Assemble the ingredients.

As you can see, I went with the basics: French Vanilla cake mix, buttercream frosting, and nail polish remover (just a smidge for flavouring).

I opted for French Vanilla over white as the lady at the Bulk Barn where I bought the dye gels suggested they could change the flavour of the food slightly.

I picked up the 8-pack as I wasn’t in the mood to hand-mix colours, and this way there would be fewer left out of the mix (you can buy 12-packs as well).

From there, I got out a bunch of bowls to separate out the mix. You can also see a dirty toaster oven in the background of this image. Dirty, dirty toaster oven, photo bombing me like that.

Because I am lazy when it comes to most things, dishes especially, I lined the muffin tins with paper cups. This is how a muffin tin looks when it’s lined with paper cups. Take special note of the dirty stove top. I blame the cats — their paws just aren’t usually up for proper stirring, so they tend to make a mess.

I didn’t bother to take a picture of the mixing process for the batter, just the end result (this is where my forgetfulness also comes into play). In short: add water, oil, eggs, mix according to directions. I made sure to mix it for the extra length of time as indicated, which gave me an airier batter to work with.

Somewhere during this process, I picked up a fan.

Thena, also known as Thena Demonbeast, also known as the crabby one, grey cat, and various other terms of endearment (the vet receptionist laughed when I called her Monkey Face). She’s sitting on the stool the DH refers to as the “begging stool” when the cats use it; when I use it, I think “midget stool” comes into play (I’m trying to think of how to rewrite that so as to avoid the unfortunate scat implications, but I’m coming up empty-handed. Fortunately). Anyhow, she made sure to supervise the process.

That said, when offered to taste test the results, she declined.

These were the colours I chose for the purposes of this experiment:

Blue, orange, green, purple, red and yellow — at this point, in no particular order.

This is a blurry image of what my fingers looked like after peeling the paper topping off of each of the gel packets. Oddly, the yellow only had a foil top, not the cardboard and foil the others had. Clearly this means that the yellow was the poisoned one.

I separated out the batter into the six glass bowls. Each bowl initially received about a half-cup of mix (since I was only using the one box, I cut the recommendations from the original recipe in half), then I eyeballed the remainder and shared that amongst the six dishes.

From there, it was time to start adding the gel. Each dish got its own mixing spoon, and I used one main spoon for doling out the gel — which got rinsed off between additions. Because the gel containers were fairly small, I was somewhat limited in terms of how much gel I could get on the spoon in the first place, but a little goes a long way:

From there, to here:

Making sure to stir it thoroughly, including scraping the sides and bottom of the bowl. As I used glass dishes, it was pretty easy to see where there was unmixed batter. Totally a deliberate choice on my part.

Repeat times six, and you get the results above.

Next, it’s time to start the assembly process. If you want to make a rainbow cake, I suggest using the information at the link above for assembly, as it’s obviously going to be different than mine.

First, I refreshed my memory on the order in which a rainbow appears. Then, I took the equivalent of about a teaspoon and dropped it into each muffin tin. I was being a bit too generous in my serving sizes, so I had to steal a bit from some of the muffin cups to make a full two dozen at the end. With the subsequent colours, I did my best not to run into this same problem, since it would be a lot harder to steal colours once they were more mixed together.

Following the order of the rainbow, I dropped in the purple, then blue, green, yellow, orange and red. I didn’t worry too much about making sure that each layer was perfectly covering the next or anything like that: messiness leads to creativity! And also I could claim it was deliberate or something. If I’d made a double batch of mix, I would have had plenty of batter to cover things off better.

Here is how the trays looked before they went into the oven. Though you can’t really see the darker colours (mainly because I ended up with a larger portion of red for some reason), you can definitely see how the colours just sit on top of one another without any bleeding or blending at this point.

I went with the lowest end of the recommended time range, and the cupcakes came out perfectly when I tested them with a toothpick — no batter on the pick, and I didn’t find a single one to be overdone.

Straight from the oven, here they are. Some of the cupcakes had some of the lower colours bubble up to the top, but not really something I was stressing. They came out a bit smaller than what my cupcakes usually do, but I tend to over-portion batter when I do things like this and never end up with a full dozen or two dozen. In this case? Perfect two dozen.

Well, perfect two dozen save for one that didn’t have green added to it. So it clearly had to be iced and sacrificed for the cause.

Iced.

Displayed (you can see how some of the colours were visible from the edges of the cupcake; this was apparent even through the muffin papers I used).

And then sacrificed so that the public could see the tasty inside:

I also realized that some of the nicknames and/or initials I used for people no longer make a lot of sense to me… but I did find when I finally started mentioning the DH.

Ganked from Pompous Ass, ’cause I’m bored and I can:

1. How old will you be in five years?
Thirty-one. I’m old.

> Well, five years from now I’ll be almost 36. What fortuitous timing on finding this post!

2. Do you think you will be married by then?
Doesn’t look likely.

> Aw, what lack of hope I had. For the record? Married two days before I hit 30. Booyah! (And this was after we delayed our originally-chosen date by a whole week).

3. How tall are you?
5’2″, every inch adorable.

> Still short, still cute. Lots chunkier, though.

4. What do you look forward to most in the next six weeks?
Going to Toronto for my CSS course, making it that much further out of winter.

> Second week of vacation, whoo! My birthday, our one-year anniversary, some parties… the usual summer crap.

5. What’s the last movie you saw in theater?
Stomp the Yard.

> Cowboys and Aliens.

6. Who was the last person you called?
My dad

> Hrm. Probably the DH.

7. Who was the last person to call you?
Pompous Ass

> The doctor’s office, confirming my appointment on Thursday.

9. Do you prefer to call or text?
Call’s cheaper, texting’s more convenient sometimes

10. Do you have any pets?
Yep, two cats

11. What were you doing at 12am last night?
Chatting online, fearing I had a UTI.

> Playing online, thinking about going to bed. Babysitting some downloads.

12. Are your parents married/separated/divorced?
Married.

> Still married — and have just passed 35 years together.

13. When is the last time you saw your mom?
Over the Christmas holidays, I think.

> I’m hoping I’ve seen her since we had Shadow put down, but now I’m not sure positive.

14. What color are your eyes?
Blue

15. What time did you wake up today?
8:00

> 6:30ish.

16. What are you wearing right now?
Purple Izod sweater, cream long-sleeeved shirt, jeans, probably some underwear

> Black short-sleeved top from Banana Republic (repurposed from my Hallowe’en costume), black capris.

17. What’s your favorite Christmas song?
Tubular bells, and Wizards in Winter by Trans-Siberian Orchestra

> No real change here, except to add Carol of the Bells.

18. Where is your favorite place to be?
Curled up someplace warm and cozy

> Yeah, this still fits. Sometimes it’s nice to add a cat or two or the DH to this picture.

19. Where is your least favorite place to be?
Anywhere I’m cold or uncomfortable

> Work?

20. Where would you go if you could go anywhere?
Greece, Australia, Hawaii, France, Italy

> Haven’t been to any of the places above, so they’re still on the list. I’m not against revisiting Las Vegas or Iceland (which has the DH super-excited and planning already).

21. Where do you think you’ll be in 10 years?
Hopefully in a house filled with light, books, cats, pictures of loved ones and maybe a husband and a wee one or two running around.

More than likely in a box in the ground after someone finally got fed up with me and did away with me. Currently money’s on either Pompous Ass or Markuk.

> Well, the first scenario looks to be the most likely one at this point.

22. Do you tan or burn?
Both

> Freckle, too.

23. What did you fear was going to get you as a child?
The dark

24. What was the last thing that made you laugh?
Something in cat_macro.

> Probably something one of the cats did.

25. How many TVs do you have?
Two

> Urgh, four now.

26. How big is your bed?
Double

> Queen ftw! Still not quite big enough, but a lot better.

27. Do you have a laptop or desktop computer?
Both. I’m living large, baby!

28. Do you sleep with or without clothes on?
Usually pjs, but when the weather’s warmer or there’s someone worthwhile sharing my space, I can do nakers.

29. What color are your sheets?
Light blue.

> The cream ones are on the bed now, but otherwise I like the blue or white ones.

30. How many pillows do you sleep with?
Four if you count the body pillow. Six if you count the cats.

> One and lately the body pillow. Sometimes I get to spoon with Thena-kitty, or Venus uses me as a pillow.

32. What do you like about fall?
The burning wood/fireplace smell you get sometimes.

33. What do you like about winter?
Being curled up in a pile of warm blankets with a good book or a hot body.

> Being curled up on a comfy couch with some books and coffee. Snuggling with the DH and the cats — it’s nice when Thena or Venus does a full-body stretch and sleep on top of or beside me.

34. What do you like about the summer?
Pretty much everything, except maybe that I can’t find flattering shorts. Balmy nights that are perfect for sitting outside with friends until the wee hours, talking and laughing about nothing. Outdoor sex. Leaving my place in the morning without needing a jacket or anything to keep me warm. Letting my cats out on their leashes and seeing Thena sleep under the leaves of the bushes that surround our patio.

> This pretty much continues to cover it. Though I’d add the neighbourhood bunnies that like to chill in our yard; this season’s pair has been pretty brazen about lounging wherever they see fit. That, and taunting the cats; they’re quite good at that, too.

35. What do you like about spring?
Knowing that summer is on its way.

37. How many cities/towns have you lived in?
Two, Halifax and here.

38. Do you prefer shoes, socks, or bare feet?
Any of the above.

> Most lately shoes, though when I’m at work I seem to hate shoes and want to be barefoot.

39. Are you a social person?
I have my moments.

40. What was the last thing you ate?
Working through some leftover verenekes now.

> Booster juice drink and panini. I’m about to tackle some pudding, I think.

41. What is your favorite restaurant?
I’m fond of Kelsey’s garlic cheese bread. I like thai, phantasy (my name for it), various others… depends on mood.

47. Do you like coffee?
Only cappuccinos so far. I’m working my way up slowly.

> I am a fan, and now drink coffee on a pretty regular basis.

48. How many glasses of water, a day, do you drink on average?
Probably 2-3. Need to do more of this.

50. Would you rather sleep with someone else or alone?
I love spooning and cuddling, but I like to sleep on my stomach. If they don’t hog the bed or toss and turn too much, with.

51. Do you sleep on a certain side of the bed?
I’m finally starting to move around more, so not really.

> I’m firmly entrenched in my side of the bed now; always on the right, so I can sleep facing the right and not facing the DH. He only complains when it means he’s closer to the door, where the bad guys will attack him first.

52. Do you know how to play poker?
Sort of.

53. Do you like to cuddle?
I’m powered by cuddling, and people love to cuddle me. Small stature for the win!

55. Do you have an addictive personality?
At times.

59. Do you want kids?
The sixty-four thousand dollar question, isn’t it? Not yet.

> Sort of?

61. Have you ever gotten stitches?
For my two oral surgeries (yes, I said oral).

> None since I was 18, but that may change.

63. Do you prefer an ocean or a pool?
Ocean if it’s warm.

64. Do you prefer a window seat or an aisle seats?
Window so I can sleep.

65. Do you know how to drive stick?
I am the master of the stick. Yes, pun away.

66. What is your favorite thing to spend money on?
Books.

67. Do you wear any jewelry 24/7?
24/7? No.

> Some piercings that I have that I don’t remove.

68. What is your favorite TV show?
Well, considering I’m doing my thesis on it, I’d probably have to say Buffy. But I love Gilmore Girls (shut it), House, Futurama, Family Guy, Angel, Scrubs, Animaniacs, CSI… not that I watch a lot of tv or anything.

> Also to add: Leverage, Mentalist, Cougar Town, Castle, Serenity, Lie to Me… and probably remove CSI and Family Guy. CSI is getting tiresome, and Family Guy doesn’t really entertain me anymore.

69. Would you rather be attacked by a big bear or a swarm of bees?
I’m counting on being attacked by a big bear soon.

> How about neither?

70. Do you flirt a lot?
I’ve been told so.

> Much less now.

71. What do you dip a chicken nugget in?
Honey or honey garlic.

Chipotle sauce if they have it!

72. What is your favorite food?
Italian.

73. What is your usual bedtime?
11-12, though I’m trying to make it earlier.

> Probably 11:30-12, which is too late. :/

I’ve had so many random thoughts over the last while that have never made it into post form. As per usual, please enjoy the utter randomness of the text to come.

First and foremost: some time ago, the DH bought himself his first ever SmartPhone (he opted for the Samsung Galaxy, for the gadget nerds like myself out there). I was on hand while he asked the clerk all kinds of questions and did his comparison shopping, and I piped in with a few questions and comments myself, as a longer user of smart phones. One of my primary concerns was, naturally, battery life.

In my mind, a smart phone is first and foremost still a technology used to communicate orally with other people. Sure, I abuse the shit out of my texting privileges to some extent, and I will on occasion use my browser to look up vital information online (when is that movie playing? do I have any new emails? what’s going on in the news? do I care yet about Twitter or Facebook?), but for the most part, I expect that my phone will function reasonably well when I require its telephonic services.

Part of this reliability means having a battery life that lasts longer than a mouse fart. Now, the clerk was using the same model phone as the one my DH was considering, and had a number of applications running on it at the time. So I asked about the battery life (having turned off a lot of things on mine to help prolong said battery life). His response?

“Well, most of the time people are near a charger of some kind nowadays, so I just keep mind plugged in when I’m at work or in the car. Otherwise, yeah, it lasts about a day.”

…buh? All hail our new telephonic technological devices, whereby batteries don’t last for shit because we’re too occupied needing to know when our farms on farmville are about to be bought out by Monsanto! (Okay, so I don’t play Farmville, but that’s a thing, right?)

Grr. I know it’s nothing to be crabby about, but when has that ever stopped me, really?

On a note about something that’s bothering me right this minute? Fuck you Yahoo.ca for your new email interface that only works for shit about once an hour. You don’t always automatically put me at the end of my mailbox, you’re unreliable when it comes to deleting emails either individually or en masse, you love to jump me backwards through my emails when I’m just trying to read the newest, and you insist on using flash to do things. Then you turn into a jerkass and freeze up so that I can’t do a damn thing with you, short of several log outs and reloads of the page.

I have a diatribe about online life and privacy, but I think I’ll save that for another post to make it seem like I’m actually writing things and shit.

And btw – the ichaseboys.com URL isn’t working just yet. I’m sorting it out, I swear.

One advantage I can say I’ve gained is a better ability to edit my own work. Even the course I took recently reinforced that – I can go back through my own words and tighten here or adjust there, instead of on the fly like I used to do.

But still… what I want is to have a story to tell, a story that doesn’t involve something goofy one of my cats did today or yesterday. In the mornings, Thena likes to come and cuddle with me after my shower. Sometimes when she’s getting her head rubbed or she’s licking my arm, she’ll look at me with her tongue sticking out. Some mornings, it’s as much as half her tongue – and it never fails to make me laugh.
Sure, it’s a story that amuses my husband, since he knows and loves the cats and finds their antics as amusing as I do, but it’s a two-second story to tell that doesn’t interest anyone else. Even if I had a picture to share, I doubt many of you would be too concerned.

And really, that isn’t the kind of story I want to have to tell. What I want is a novel, an actual story that people want to read and want to continue reading. I read authors like Jim Butcher, Karen Chance, Terry Pratchett (and of course many many more), and I can see the genius behind their words leaking off the page. Sure, with Butcher and Pratchett I can sense the growth behind the stories, but with Butcher and Chance there are hints that are dropped in their first or second books that only come to play many books later. I can’t emulate that kind of genius, and that intimidates the crap out of me. And I don’t feel as though I have a gift for description.

But then again… writing isn’t something that’s supposed to be easy, the way I expect everything to be. I don’t trust my writing when it doesn’t flow, but you know what? Writing is work, just like anything else. Sure, it may come easier to me than to others, but that doesn’t mean it isn’t still effort. And it’s a skill that needs to be practiced.

I’m lucky; I write every day for work, so I can sit down and bang out media lines or even a speech without effort. I read pieces written by other people and they don’t make sense, or there are grammatical flaws, or they’re hugely negative in tone – and it’s a gift to be able to edit those pieces so that they don’t have those flaws. And I’m constantly learning from my bosses as to how to write even better.

I sound like I’m bragging, which isn’t my intention at all. It’s really just a brain dump to give myself the courage to try something more than just confessional writing – which I find ridiculously easy to do.

Maybe I’ll never be able to write stories, only derivative short stories and essays or confessional pieces. I don’t really know, but I know I’m going to try. It’s just a matter of making the time to do the work – and it is work. But ultimately, it will be rewarding.

I’m currently taking a writing course as part of my work training (and it’s the only one I’ve been able to get away from the office to take this month). We were given an assignment that asked us to turn the intro from the text below to something more entertaining and engaging.

The first paragraph was originally this:

An extremely large number of people enjoy reading murder mysteries regularly. As a rule, these people are not themselves murderers, nor would these people really ever enjoy seeing someone commit an actual murder, nor would most of them actually enjoy trying to solve an actual murder. They probably enjoy reading murder mysteries because of this reason: they have found a way to escape from the monotonous, boring routine of dull everyday existence.

I wrote this:

Last night, I sat back and did nothing as before my very eyes, a man was murdered.

And I wasn’t alone. Dozens of us witnessed the death of this man, whose name we never knew. Around me, I could hear the odd intake of breath as one at a time, we came to the same place on the page – for it was within the pages of the latest Richard Castle novel that we got to vicariously enjoy watching the life of a nameless stranger end.

The teacher said I blew it out of the water, and a few other classmates praised it as well. Now if only the writing assignment we’ve been given called “Where I sit” holds us half as well…

Day One: Ten things you want to do some day.

I always seem to have a long list of things I want to do some day:

1. Take dance lessons.
2. Take horse-back riding lessons.
3. Go back to school for another degree or two.
4. Finish a sweater.
5. Learn to sew.
6. Write something for publication.
7. Finish the games I have.
8. Finish the books I have.
9. Own a house with a huge kitchen that meets my needs.
10. Get braver.

Pretty sure I can set up date stamps on the next rounds of these, so I can even set them to publish over the next few days!

First order of frustration — a few weeks before Christmas, I went in to the Gap with the intention of buying a pair of jeans. I had recently bought jeans at the Gap, and found the style and length that I liked and that fit me fairly well. Of course, by some awesome stroke of luck, everyone in the world with my short stature and wide hips had been in the Gap that week and had bought up my size.

So, I had no less than three different employees encourage me to order the jeans online. This was after the last clerk who helped me in my original jeans rampage encouraged me to try on all the pants I picked out, even if they were the same size and style, as there can be variations. This is not my anger issue.

I found a pair of jeans that worked and later went online to browse the sales. I found some overdyed dark jeans in the same style and size as what I’d had before, ordered them and a t-shirt, and went on my merry way.

When everything arrived, big surprise — shirt was too small (acceptable), and seemed of cheap quality (less acceptable), and the damn pants were too small and too long. I take ownership of the too long, but the too small pissed me off. Had I tried the damn things on in the store, I wouldn’t have had had to either return them by mail, or toddle off to the store to return them in person.

However, since I had to do another return — this one from Christmas — it was no problem to me to go to the store. Especially since that way, I know the return is being processed immediately and nothing can get lost en route.

Now, pause break in this boring narrative to explain why this second part bothers me the irrational way it does. For as long as I can remember, I have hated returning gifts. Even as a kid, when my grandmother would buy me something I didn’t like, it pained me to go to the store with my mom and find something to substitute in its place. And my grandma saw me once a year, so it’s not like she was super-dialed in to the vagaries of the 8-year old me’s so-called “tastes” in clothes.

Furthermore, I am fairly loyal to particular stores when I consistently find clothing items there that I like and that fit me well. I like Laura, Reitmans, Smart Set for some thing, Gap for some things (which is really only a recent addition to the shopping list) — and that’s usually about it. I have a very hard time finding clothes that I like and/or are willing to spend money on in most of the other stores, so I don’t waste my time.

Now bear in mind again that this next part is irrational and I realize that completely. This makes no sense to me, so I don’t expect it to make any sense to anyone else.

But I get really irrationally upset when people buy me clothes that aren’t my style (and to some extent my size, though that’s more forgiveable by far) but especially when they come from stores I *never* shop at.

Several years ago my other grandmother bought me some dress pants from the Gap. In a size 14 – when at the time I think I was still in 8/10s. Not only did these pants not fit, but when I belted them on in an attempt to make them work, I somehow had a giant square butt. Fortunately I was able to return them, but I was then left with a gift card for a big chunk of change to a store that I never shopped at that took me about two years to eventually spend, if memory serves. And that was only when my mom basically dragged me in to get new jeans, which I balked at spending $60-$70 on.

My mom is also guilty of this; she’s bought me clothes at Mexx, which I never shopped at — I did manage to make one work and returned another, but I still have on hand a sweater I have yet to wear, because the other half of my neurosis is an inability to throw out or give away clothes that someone gave me as a gift, that I didn’t return because I thought I’d wear it, that I never wear for whatever reason (too fitted, weird style, too bright a colour, something).

I got hit with this again this year — for some reason lately, my sister has been insistent on trying to buy clothes for the DH and me for Christmas. She bought me two “sweaters” (I call them that because though they seem to be made from some sweater-like material, they are lighter and thinner than t-shirts, not to mention incredibly shapeless), and a blouse. The blouse worked well enough, but the sweaters were simply not going to be worn, so I had to go and return them. Because of the nature of Jacob stores (leotarded), I had to find a “boutique” one and return it there. And because of the aforementioned leotarded policies, I now have in my possession a gift card to a store that I think I’ve set foot in twice (now three times) in my lifetime.

Joy.

My family likes to give gag gifts on occasion, and they’re all well and good, but the frustration I run is the neurosis about hating to give away gifts, coupled with the loud voice of my DH about how much junk I own. He focuses mainly on my books, but I feel that way when I look at the things I’ve received as gag gifts — at what point is it acceptable to get rid of something for which I have absolutely no use? I can appreciate the sentiment and the humour behind it, and not everything I receive is useless, but sometimes it just is.

Sometimes I get gifts because someone felt they had to give me a gift (like a family friend I happened to see on my birthday, who gave me something very generic that would’ve been old 20 years ago). I appreciate the thought behind it, but it went into the donation bin that same day — and my DH gave me a hard time about it. Huzzah.

So sometimes the same people who give me a hard time about owning too much stuff or being too sentimental about things are a) contributing to it, and b) being just as guilty of hanging on to things out of sentimentality as I am. I do make some harsh calls sometimes – like throwing out the needlepoint wall-hangings my aunt made for me when I was a baby – but it needs to be done. I still have the teddy bear that she made me when I was a baby, and that’s more important to me.

Anyhow, I know so much of this sounds so very ungrateful of me – but I’d really rather get nothing as a gift than something that was just purchased because you couldn’t find anything else (like the etch-a-sketch). Really, I’m not that materialistic, and I don’t think I’m that terribly difficult to buy for. Especially when I had a short list of DVDs I’d have liked.

Just watch; next year I’ll be lucky to get a “Merry Christmas” after all of this whining!

I have written so many posts in my head over the last bazillion or so years, but somehow sitting down in front of a screen and keyboard to make them come to life for you has just not happened. I have so many excuses, but the one that seems to stand out as the strongest was a vignette I saw on one of the Castle DVDs from season 1 — short version, that what often creates writer’s block is the fear that what you put down on paper won’t be perfect.

It’s a feeling I can understand all too well. When I’m at work, I’m not afraid to write — I know that whatever I put down will be vetted and reviewed by many different sets of eyes, so if it’s not perfect, someone along the way will catch it and change it. And I have no ego attached to that — I’m completely fine with it. Admittedly, there I’m not writing for myself and putting my thoughts and feelings out there, so it in some ways carries much less risk, but at the same time, it’s my career and there is a great deal of risk associated with being a constant screw-up. Fortunately for me, I’m not one (at least not at work), so there you go.

Anyhow — I thought about sitting down at the keyboard on January 1st to make some big poignant retrospective and make it somehow more meaningful, and as you can see, that didn’t happen. So here we are.

I know it’s common for people to write their looking-back pieces, so I thought I might do the same.

The year 2010 brought for me marriage and turning 30 — in that order, thankfully. Maybe just barely, but it still counts.

The wedding day went well, with only minor hiccups — one of the DH’s uncles made our cake, and he got lost on the way to the venue, so he only just finished setting up as I was about to walk down the aisle, and therefore he missed the ceremony (as he had to return to the hotel to get his wife and daughter and also change). The hotel gave away our photographer’s room, so noises were made and great concessions were received. A few people’s comments about the lack of cleanliness of their rooms got back to me, but just as third- or fourth-hand comments — not as problems to fix. One of the DH’s second-cousins heckled my dad during his speech, but it would appear someone told him to shut up, as he calmed down. My mom stepped on my bustle before my first dance, but my maid of honour and my bride’s man’s girlfriend helped do a repair. The groomsmen didn’t put the wedding favours on the tables, but the DH and I were able to use the handing out of the favours as our excuse to circulate amongst the tables and thank everyone for coming.

On the whole? Problem free. I spent more time socializing and less time dancing than I thought, but that wasn’t exactly a bad thing. I was able to time the changing of the daughters during the father-daughter dance well — fortunately I didn’t wait for the keychange as I had considered, as that happened right towards the end of the song and wouldn’t have had the same impact.

All in all, it was a great and yet weird day. The DH and I both said that it felt as though we were at someone else’s wedding, but for the fact that we were the ones wearing the fancy get-up. My dress was a huge hit with everyone. It did get somewhat uncomfortable towards the end of the night, and I loved that first big breath I got to take after I removed it — and the even bigger one after the damn strapless bra came off.

Weird things about wedding get-up? Spanx (or at least the set I bought and didn’t wear) aren’t meant to be worn with underwear, as there is simply an opening that you pull aside to do your business. Yours truly was not comfortable with that idea, and so ended up wearing a different pair of stocking-shorts that she had in stock. Oddly enough, my mom was fine with the idea of me going commando on my wedding day, but didn’t like the idea that I might be braless — it was her that insisted we go shopping for a “proper” bra. Since I don’t have any strapless bras from this millennium, that wasn’t a huge problem, though I’m pretty sure the damn thing had more padding than me in there. I was able to stash the hotel key in the bra and some kleenex in between, though, so that was convenient. I offered the kleenex to the DH during a tender moment in the ceremony, which changed his tears to laughter.

I had another moment I had in mind to mention, but it’s passed now. I feel I’m racing against a clock, as my computer wants to do an automatic update that it won’t allow me to postpone, and it’s past my bedtime. Of course, as I’ve been sleeping from 2 or 3 until 11 the last many days, I doubt I’ll be asleep anytime soon.

Lots of people have asked me if I feel any different post-marriage, or how married life is compared to pre-married life. I think I’ve probably asked my friends that same question, as it’s an ice-breaker of sorts, and the truth is, I feel no different, grand-scale. I think it’s probably because I’m short and chunky and the DH, while taller than me and definitely not chunky, is still shorter-ish for a guy, and so in my head I think we’re both still kids — so many of my married friends are tall and seem grown-up, and I’m pretty sure I’m still a 16-year poser.

In truth, I do question some more of my behaviours than I did before, which tells me I have some preconceptions about what it means to be married. I’ve read that where many marriages fail is where couples have expectations that things will change once they’re married — that the husband will no longer have poker nights with his buddies, or that the wife won’t take girls-only overnight trips, or things of that nature. I asked the DH before we married if he had any of those expectations, and he said no, and I felt the same way — and we both happen to like the evenings where the other is out, so it’s not as though either of us would suddenly expect those activities to change. If anything, he tries to get me to leave the house more often than I do.

But behaviours — I do sometimes question whether I should be cuddling with this friend that I’ve cuddled with for the last 7 or 8 years, or whether I should stop flirting with that friend that I’ve flirted with for the last 10 years, or whatever. Even some of the things that I talk about or have talked about — should that suddenly stop now that a second ring is on my finger? The truth is, I only think they need to stop if they’re creating problems in my relationship with the DH, and until he tells me they are, I see no real reason to change.

Other peoples’ thoughts be damned. And I’m lucky that my friends are, on the whole, fairly open and understanding (well, the ones I’m closer to, for sure). We cuddle, we flirt, we understand one another — and those in open relationships have their own boundaries, and don’t expect those in closed relationships to change their own boundaries just because. Though all of that’s another matter that came up a little while ago. Separate post for another day.

So yes, I do sometimes look at the lines I’m approaching and try to decide for myself and my marriage if they’re being overstepped or are too far, but I think that’s a constant negotiation, and that’s not a bad thing.

Otherwise? I’m still the same person I was this time last year. Even the last name hasn’t changed, despite what other people might want or how they might try to address me. While Mrs. DH isn’t my legal name, I will generally respond to it — it’s not exactly something I feel the need to make a federal case over. But I’m still Jen X, and that’s just fine with the DH — as well as the kitties, not that they’ve noticed any change either.

I’ll try to edit this tomorrow with a photo or two — I just don’t have them on this computer, and I have less than a minute left on the Windows timer (not to mention it’s long enough — and not entirely what I originally meant to cover).