Poor Poor Neglected GSD...

I promise baby, I'll come back soon and do an update. I'm tired. Oh, we got married Nov. 6th. Jake's almost 2.5 now. He's talking loads. I will totally come back and do an update. I promise.

Back In The Saddle Again, My Ass!

Okay okay. So I know I said I'd write more often, but you'd be surprised at how easy it is to get distracted by everything else that has been going on. So much has happened. Here's a quick update for y'all.

1. Hallowe'en. This year wasn't a typical trick-or-treating Hallowe'en for us, because we attended the wedding of our dear friends Heather and Ian. It was amazing, it was beautiful, it was exhausting. I was Heather's Maid of Honour, so Cliff got the boychild dumped on him for almost the entire wedding and did fabulously. Cliff was Danny Zuko, Jake was Kinickey, and I was a Pink Lady after I removed myself from the gorgeous but exceedingly movement limiting scarlet dress I was wearing as Maid Of Honour. I'd managed to lose approximately 25 pounds since September, (My "diet" was No pop, No processed flour products, only whole grain foods, lots of walking and lots of water, and criminally, Skinny Vanilla Lattes from starbucks instead of Mocha frapps) and even after ALL of that work, I still felt like a sausage in it's casing.

Here's a pic of Jake and Cliff, they look adorable, no? FYI. Yes I handpainted his "cigarette" package of Marlboros and they are era appropriate for the 50's. God bless Google for it's image search capabilities.

2. Christmas. I'd reentered the work force from mid-November to approximately the 10th of December, when I was informed by my employers that I wouldn't be covered for breaks, and told them to go fuck themselves. I'm sure it wasn't the smartest thing to do considering our financial situation despite Cliff not working for 4 months prior. (and honestly, who really isn't suffering during these economic times?) Cliff supported me 100% during my decision, and though I felt horribly guilty not sticking to my job and something I'd promised I'd do for someone, I felt like being treated like a human being more.

But in all actuality Christmas was wicked cool, I baked and baked and baked, I found a fabulous recipe for Sugar cookies by Alton Brown on the food network site. Quite honestly, if I wasn't worried about my ass exploding out of my pants I'd be making them every week because they were freaking awesome with a cuppa Earl Grey... Sadly, I have no impulse control with them. Reality (that bitch!) interferes, and it doesn't help my "diet" one bit. But they are SO. GOOD.

Jake got spoiled to hell and back, with almost all of our friends and family sending him at least 2 or three things each. It was crazy.We decided to put our tree up on Christmas Eve, after he'd gone to bed, and the look on his little face was priceless when there was another "Kissmas! ho ho ho!" thing up in the house. He, of course, promptly decided to denude our poor Charlie Brown tree of 4 ornaments within the first 5 minutes of him seeing it, so maybe "training" him to not touch the tree during the week prior might have been a better decision, overall. Whoops, there's always next year.

Jake's visit with Santa went well, If by well you mean "At least he's not screaming his little brains out!" as quite a large number of toddlers do when they meet Santa. Out of the 6 pictures we got of him on the old man's lap, this is the only one that I really liked, because I think he was in a Christmas coma at that point, completely overwhelmed by the number of decorations and activities going on in the mall and then we put him in the lap of some hairy dude wearing a red velvet suit. I mean, come on, if you were one and a half, you'd be pretty overwhelmed too! Every other photo of him on Santa had him looking like he'd been beaned on the head by a frying pan and he was completely expressionless. The poor kid. Cliff had picked up a book earlier that horror of all parental horrors, plays the song "frosty the snowman"at supersonic tinny volume repeatedly, and Jake being our child, has a strong affinity for being read to and reading books himself. I think it's a cute and very apt picture of him.


Christmas dinner was hosted at my house with my parents and cousin and his girlfriend Amy attending, and for the very first time I can say that I achieved true adult-hood by violating and roasting my first turkey. So can my friend Amy, who helped roast the SECOND turkey that we made. Yes. I said it. Two 15 lb birds. It was chaos! Amy and I were putting on this big show of 'no big deal, we're women we can do this no problem!' bravado, and then... And then... *shudders* And then we had to slather herbed butter underneath the skin of the turkey breasts and we turned into total freaking wimps. We had to reach into turkey body cavities and remove giblets!!! We had to PIN THE WINGS to the birds' body!! We had to rinse and pat dry the INSIDES of a turkey ribcage and then shove bread and sausage into the holes we had just cleaned out. Eeeeeeewwwww!!!

But the taste was phenomenal. I mean, coming in your pants and your mouth at the same time tasty-ness. I had enough turkey left over to feed an army sandwiches for a week. I made mashed potatoes with herbs and what my family calls "hossenpheppher" which is lightly mashed carrots and rutabega/turnips, stuffing made from Authentic San Francisco sourdough bread that my Aunt had picked up for us when she went in November with bratwurst sausage with whole and half fresh cranberries, Celery and red onions, gravy and buns and two types of cranberry sauce. My table spread was freaking amazing. I was so proud of us for all the work we did. My best memory of Christmas 2009? My three very sweet goodnight kisses from my completely exhausted and very happy son.

And then we all got the flu for the next week. Yuck. Sleeping a lot, fevers, snot. Sinus headaches and crankiness. (But at least we had turkey sandwiches!)

3. New Years. consisted of Cliff and I reading our books in bed and then when I looked at the clock when the hullabaloo started in the neighborhood and went "Holy shit! Happy New Year, Babe!" a smooch and back to our books. Yes, darlings, we lead a life of excitement and vigor. *sighs*

4. Our Leaky bedroom. Oh yes, I said it. We had/have a massive leak in our Master suite. I can't tell you how happy I was to discover that it had been oozing water slowly throughout the week and during our most recent monsoon ALL down the side of the window which is of course right behind my head. Happy happy! Of course the Land/slum lords that we love dearly but don't do anything for our house didn't bother to actually do anything to fix it until approximately a week after our first phone call. This meant a week of dumping 4 litre pails of water into a 10 litre pail, at a rate of about 8 to 10 litres a day during the heavy rain we've been suffering here. Yeah. Linds is NOT pleased.

They've since come and slathered roof repair tar over every nook and cranny of the bedroom addition, our porch roof and the conjoined corrugated plastic cover that is half of our porch area. This was today, I've no idea if it will actually fucking DO anything yet, as it hasn't really rained enough for it to drip drip drip. I hope it does something.

I'm sure that I've entertained you enough for the evening, but let me say, Happy New Year! Welcome to a new decade, and let's hope that the next 10 years are far more successful than the last 10!

Love ya!

For The Record...

Happy Anniversary, Cliffy. My pirate, my cowboy, and my gentleman, all rolled into one.

You've held my hand during our tough times, shared our joy together during everything we've been through, and captured my heart for the past year. I thank whatever god(s) exists in this universe that I had the chance to go out with you one year ago today, for that dinner at the little neighborhood restaurant where we had our first date. I love the feeling of your body next to mine at night. I love that you want to make this relationship actually work. I love how you kiss me goodbye every morning, even if I'm so asleep I don't remember it until later that afternoon. I love the sound of your voice from the other room when you sing with the radio. I love how you smell after I haven't seen you for the entire day. Like male, and wood, and cologne you put on that morning and... I cannot find the words to do it justice... It just smells like... Home. Where I belong.

Just know, I love you. So very much.

P.S. Dinner? It was amazing. Dessert? Even better. *wink*

Oh...

I've been very busy the last 2 months. I suppose it shows, what with lack of posts.

I suppose... I should give you some small details from the things that have happened in the last while, since I've neglected this page, for quite some time.

As of 3 weeks ago, I was pregnant with my first child. Yes, a big, momentous event, indeed. I was thrilled. Cliff was beyond thrilled. My parents were totally stoked. Unfortunately, on June 11th, at 5 am, I lost my baby, three and a half months into my pregnancy.

I was leery of writing about being pregnant, mainly for the fact that I wasn't over my first trimester, and I wasn't comfortable discussing it in a fairly public venue. I'm still not too comfortable discussing it in a public venue, but maybe that might shed some light as to why I wasn't writing very much. Most of the time I was sleeping, bitchy (not a big change from the usual...) and when I wasn't sleeping, I was working. Or eating. Or bitching. Or massaging my sore feet. One of those, just pick one at random.

I was... Am... Highly traumatized by the whole event, even though I keep on telling myself to "Get over it". I don't really want to discuss it. I've learned more about my mental state, or lack thereof, more than ever in the past 3 weeks. I spent a week lying in bed, mourning the loss of my baby, and recuperating, and the last 2 weeks struggling to make ends meet from that week that I had to take off of work, that isn't covered by medical leave from my work despite my bosses best efforts to make it that way. Fun? No. Not so much.

It's been very hard for me, to contemplate writing in here, when all I've been trying to do is clear my thoughts, and remain calm and collected. I'm not doing a very good job. It's really difficult to maintain a happy face when my thoughts are so troubled and cluttered with grief.

Once again, the brightest spot in my life is Cliff, who outshines my highest hopes and expectations, giving me love, affection, devotion and support; and expecting nothing else other than for me to be myself in return. I am a very lucky woman.

If I don't return to write in here for a while, I'll beg your pardon for the bloggus interruptus. I'm still sorting through how I feel and for once, GSD doesn't feel like a welcome, reliable outlet to gush my feelings out into. Nothing personal of course, it's just that this whole scenario hurts too much for me to put out there for the whole world to dissect.

I'll see you guys on the flip flop, when I've waded out of the mire in my head, and back into Glamazon Shoe territory.

Yes...

She still lives.

Busy, busy me! Lots has been going on lately, and sadly to say there's not been a lot that I've been willing to write down, because it's not ready to be written yet...

I know it sucks for blog fodder, for you guys, and I'm sorry.

April 20th brings about the return of the Wiggler!?!, visiting his REAL hometown for a couple of days. I think Miss Ultrahonig, (the lovely Allison) and I plan on going out with Mr! Erik for dinner... I think. I'll need refreshment on the discussion. I think it's time to send out an email...

I've inducted Cliff into the addictiveness/triviality/internet cesspool that is Myspace, and hes got a whole 8 friends! Yay Cliff! I think a majority of my friends discovered Facebook at exactly the same time, from the looks of it, since we all started adding one or two friends over the past week.

I am learning more hockey knowledge than I know what to do with, now that I live with a hockey fan whose hometeam is in the playoffs. I learn it so that I don't look absolutely dumbfounded when he lists off a bunch of players names, or curses at the referee from the living room. I think I've outgrown the age where I can be sufficiently addicted to the sport known as hockey, which makes me a piss poor Canadian, doesn't it?

I've bounced back to my old job, finding that benefits, (given certain circumstances) play a more important role in my life at this moment in time, and the overall comfortability (is that a word? I don't think it is... Whatever.) of my position to be more suited to my desires.

Today's dinner special consists of Chili on a bed of rice, with a non-sardine inclusive Caesar salad and a glass of whole milk. Mmm. I'm hungry.

Ch-ch-changes!!!

Okay.

So I've been permanantly laid off of my job due to "Corporate restructuring" which is a nice way of saying "We have stores that don't make enough money for us so we're canning them". Ironically enough, lost my job because of I'm good at my job and became management. There aren't any Assistant Manager positions available due to the number of stores closing and the reshuffling of staff from said "restructuring", and I haven't had enough experience with managing to be entitled to a location of my own.

Well fine, then. *pouts*

This sucks. Sucks, sucks, sucks. My last day is tomorrow. Eugh. I've never been fired before. (Though technically, laid off is not considered fired... It's tantamount to the exact damned thing...) I found out on the 21st that I was getting laid off, but stayed until the 28th in order to get my severance pay. A week's notice. How lovely and oh so considerate. That being said, losing my job this way, looks better than getting fired because I'm incompetent and don't know how to do it in the first place.

However, I've had an interview this past Saturday with a small, local company that produces well known art for the "Nouveau Riche" in the Lower Mainland. Now, my interview seemed to go well, and I'm awaiting the reply from the company owner, with a mixture of trepidation and a little excitement... If I get it, it's going to be a neat experience, with potential room for expansion.

That being said, the nervousness comes from the fact that I'm not the sort of person that goes from one job to another without having it under my belt in the first place. It's unnerving.

I'm also, at this point in time, really, quite incredibly stoned on cough syrup. I'm Freezing cold and sweating, hyper as hell and trembling like a leaf at the same time, with a nice, dry barking cough that must incur lust in the strongest and most willful of men. My voice, sounds like Patty and Selma went on a binge-drinking, super-smoking, music-so-loud-you-have-to-shout-over-it Par-tay!

M'eh. It's time for dinner. Hopefully things work out the way I hope they do, and if not, you'll see me armed with a squeegee harassing the passengers and drivers of SUV's on Main Street and Terminal Drive, to wash their windows with urine tainted water.

Fun!

I Should Readily Admit...

That not a day goes by where I don't think politely to myself "Hey! Linds! Hi honey, how's it going? Good, good. Glad to hear it. Hey listen, why don't you write something in GSD? You know... It's kind of been a while."

Then I tell myself, "Well, Miss Linds, it's not really your fault, is it, that it's because you've been so awfully busy, what with management changes and the unholy mess left after Christmas/Boxing Day sales have blown through my store like the wild typhoon of commercialism and the "Spirit of Giving". (Sure, "Giving" yourself an enormous credit card bill...) And me a giant headache.

The resulting exhaustion from running around like maniacs during the season, and remerchandising the store AFTER the loss of two salespeople due to "seasonal hiring adjustments"... Not to mention the upcoming inventory which should be right fucked, considering the state of my workplace over the past 6 months... *sighs* Things are coming together but God! What an enormous pile of shit to wade through until it's finished... (though, it never really gets "finished".) I'm very, very tired. Bone tired.

However, that's not the only reason...

And then I tell myself it's because I've been so happy, living with my boyfriend, and just puttering along, on my/Our own little cloud nine. How much could I really write about how nauseatingly, incredibly, fantastically WONDERFUL my relationship is, and how complete it makes me feel before I become some sort of online I Heart Cliff fanclub, and I'm his number one super-awesome happyfuntime fangirl? Who the hell wants to read that sort of stuff? Yeah, you're happy, Linds, we get it. Good for you. Excuse me while my teeth rot and then fall out.

Who wants to hear that shit? No one, right? Right.

Well, I am really damned happy. So there. I do Heart Cliff. But trust me, it won't lead up to that point where I've uploaded sparkly MySpace animated gifs for every bloody day of the week up here, and if it does, someone please point it out, by, like, slapping me?

But no, that's not it, either.

It's that I have nothing else to write about right now, and I honestly feel unmotivated to write anything in general. I feel obligated to post in here, instead of wanting to.

I could tell you I did an IQ test on Tickle at 11something pm, a week ago and it told me I had an IQ of 122. (What with Cliff poking his nose in and distracting me, while I was trying to answer in a timely fashion.) I'm sure I could have scored higher.

It told me my strengths lie in art/creative projects, writing/communication and logic/problem solving... Well, goodness golly me... You think? Thank you Tickle.com. Whatever would I do without you? Let me write it out on an online weblog and tell all the people that don't give a shit the stuff I knew already!

I could tell you I got my ring that I got for Christmas sized for my left middle finger, but honestly, it's boring. Well, no... Wait. Not the jewelry, I LOVE the ring, don't get me wrong, but it's not "write worthy" material.

I could write and apologize to my readers that I still have yet to post my compilation album for 2006, "Biologique" up for grabs, because I've been busy. Real busy. Honest Injun. I have holidays starting on the 3rd of February, where I'll have 10 days of doing absolutely nothing in between having crazy-hot sex with my boyfriend and sleeping in obscenely late in the afternoon, to ensure that these tracks and the album art get posted up here. You'll just have to wait for your free music, imported under exceptional bitrate and quality, so really, I'm very sorry. I appreciate your patience.

Oh wait, this is under the assumption that I actually still have readers after this diatribe.

Just... Give me a bit, okay? I know it leads to a more boring work day for you guys, but I'd like to focus on the book I've been hemming and hawwing over, which I'll probably scrap entirely and start anew on. I'd love to work on my website for design that I've been neglecting to work on for months and months. I'd like to put the finishing touches on my digital portfolio, and then go and get the same thing printed all shiny and glossy and posted by my own hand onto some gorgeous charcoal grey 140 weight card stock, in a stunning black, butter-soft, leather folder.

I've just got some stuff on my plate, and my mind in other places right now. That doesn't mean I don't think your sexy and don't want to be with you anymore, baby. Once this stuff is dealt with, I'll be back, and better than ever. I promise.

Listening to: Beyoncé - "Irreplaceable" from the album "B-Day"

a Brief...

Note, that the 2006 compilation *will* be up sometime, probably on Friday, when I actually have time to think, or breathe. Or do anything that requires doing anything that isn't involved with work.

Yes... I'm... I mean... *it's* coming.


Loves ya!