Filling In

Hi, Suze here. When the Princess asked if anyone would be willing to write a guest post during September, I jumped at the chance. I mean who doesn't want to write for royalty? Plus I really like her blog and I'm hoping (fingers crossed) that she makes me like a Duchess or Knight or something. She left me the keys to the castle. At first, I was a little afraid of getting lost. But she said, "First castle on the left" so that's where I went. I shouldn't have been afraid of getting lost. As I got closer to her castle, I noticed the signs everywhere.

Her loyal peeps really like her! I knew at once, that I found the right castle.
She said she hid the key under a rock. Um, princess - that's a mighty big rock. After hours of struggling, I finally got the key out. Phew, that's a lot of hard work!
I let myself into the home of The Princess and her Diaries. WOW - nice digs!
I heard some noises in the kitchen. On the way, I passed some of her art work. Hmm, where is that picture I colored and sent to her? Oh well, I guess this is kind of nice.

What the? Who the? I'm left speechless to this. Alice says she's been working for the princess ever since the other family's kids left home. Damn, lucky princess. We couldn't talk long because she had a lunch date with Sam.
I walked her out to the garage and Alice said that the Princess always lets her take one of the cars while she's away. Well, I guess that's alright. But I told her to fill it up before she brought it back home and if she was filling it up at 7-11, I'd like a Slurpee. That Alice...what a gal.
Before I watered the plants and left the house, I just had to take a peek into her closet. I wanted to see if she really was a "princess". So I opened the doors to her....um...rather modest closet.
Oh, look. I am so jealous. I'm totally going to wear these until she gets back.
Yes, here is my proof. Oh look at them!! I didn't try any of them on since I think she had them arranged by event and size. Ok, ok, maybe I might have tried this one on for a mere 10 seconds. Maybe ten seconds or 10 hours - who's counting? And don't tell her either!!!
So she really is a princess and I'm sorry that I can't write more and show you more of her house. You see, one of her favorites is in the living room right now. I'm, of course, going to have to console him since she's not there. That's what kind of guest blogger I am. Tee hee...I think I'll wear the tiara!

Shortest Marriage EVAH!

I met a man. Strange but true. I met a man who I imagined would look great in a tux with a ring on his finger. And by that I don't mean he would be a great perverted waiter. He was down to earth and approachable. He was easy to talk to. I felt jealous for his future wife. I texted a friend my good news. He was happy for me. He was encouraging me. I was on cloud nine.

But, alas. My happiness was to be short lived. The man of someone else's dreams is not the man of my dreams. He has massive, swimmer like shoulders. And underneath he had the behind of a young asian girl. Tucked into skinny jeans that bagged a little in the butt. And poking out of the bottom of his jeans were shoes suitable for Sideshow Bob.

I fear its just not meant to be. Sadly I filed for mental divorce and went back to my dreary workday.

MOD-ern Ramsey

Ever since I got asked to do one of the guest posts for the lovely PotU I've been wondering how to start it and what to write. Do I do an introduction as to who I am, maybe give an indication of what I normally babble on about, do I change my style & subject matter, or do I just do what I normally do and start typing without any planning and see where my fingers take me.

Then I figured that if I waffled on about that sort of stuff for a bit, nobody would actually notice that I've "started" and I can slip in under the radar without anyone wondering if I'd started or not. Result!

Anyways, I did give this post a bit of a ponder. I thought I'd do something a little new, at least as far as I'm concerned.

The kitchen isn't a room I normally frequent. And I can count the number of food items that I own on one hand. Cheese being the mainstay of my existence, along with pasta. I don't particularly enjoy cooking, especially as it's normally for 1. I also find that after all the hassle of cooking something that by the time it's ready, I'm no longer hungry. So I thought I'd give that baking thing a go. I considered doing something like a proper cake, it was my old dears birthday and it would've made a good surprise. However, knowing that I'd probably get something wrong I decided to downsize a little and went with Flapjacks. Which, when I buy them in the shop (which is VERY rare) they're bloody lovely, and I could share them with the housemates, and because the amount of ingredients that I'd need to use would be minimal there was less room for the Fuck Up Fairy to descend on me.

So, quick check on Google to see what I needed, and off to the supermarket I went.



Ingredients all organised (including the addition of chocolate which wasn't in the recipe...) I set about my masterpiece.


I kind of followed the instructions, insofar as they seemed to say "Chuck it all in and stir", which I duly did. Although, I probably added more butter and syrup than what was written. Hell, it looked alright to me.


Because I couldn't find any small cooking chocolate thingy wotsits, I had to smash the crap out of a giant bar of Dairy Milk and in that went too.


Then it all got put in a glass container thing because I didn't have a metal tray, or any tracing paper. I mean, grease proof paper.

Now, what I was hoping for was some chocolatey gooey crunchy stuff that tasted good. What I got was a crumbly crunchy stuff, with molten chocolate floating on the top, that tasted like it had a little too much butter in, but was distinctly edible. As far as I'm concerned, it was a major success even if it wasn't exactly what I'd hoped for.

I'll tell you what though, this baking lark isn't too bad. Maybe next time I'll try something more adventurous. Maybe one of them cake things that's got squares inside it, that you can see everytime you cut it. You know, Squarey Cake.


(Oh, and the prize of the contents of my left coat pocket to the person that can tell what the title is meant to mean....)

Dear John Black,

What's shakin'? How are things? How's Salem been treating you these days? I'm good, can't really complain. I had a baby a few months ago - I'm sure your gift is in the mail.

Anyways Johnny baby, we need to have a little chat. It's about how disturbing your character has become on Days of our Lives. I mean, let's face it, things have gone a little downhill, especially in recent years.

Back when I was in high school, my girlfriends and I used to sprint home at lunch in order to catch you every day on tv. Of course, Bo wasn't too hard on the eyes either, but this is about you. Hell, in 1994 and 1995 you were named the Hottest Male Star by Soap Opera Digest, so you know you were good.

Back then, though you were quite a bit older than us, you were the "delicious mystery guy." The one we always loved, the one we cried about because we were so glad you and Marlena were together - you make such a good couple! Yeah, you were that kick-ass ISA agent/priest/pilot, with a bit of a renegade streak in you, just enough that we were always on your side, but enough of a bad boy that we always wanted more.

But things have changed John, and it's not pretty. I realize that plots must change, and now you're the quasi bad guy, dealing with the fact that you now know you're really a DiMera. It's rough finding out in your later years that you're not who you thought you were, but those are the breaks.

But what's with the hair as black as fresh tar? I mean, you're 55 years old, even a 10 year old doesn't have hair that black.

And why the extremely slow blinks? Or for that matter, why do you talk so slow now? I realize that sometimes slow blinks are good for conveying the seriousness of a situation, but half the time your eyelids aren't even in sync! The slow blinking paired with the slow speech kind of make you look like you're recovering from some sort of paralysis, and you're not having a good day.

And for some reason you've also grown your hair into a kind of upside down triangle. I'm not entirely sure how that came about, but it looks you got it all styled, then ran yourself head first into a wall. I mean, don't you have people for that? Doesn't NBC give you guys a crew for makeup/wardrobe/hairstyling that will keep you from looking like a tool?

I wish I could tell you that I could overlook all these drastic changes in you - sadly, I can not. I might be able to get past the hair, and I could even get over the fact that you're kind of a bad guy, because now you're filthy stinking rich. But I just can't deal with the fact that your eyes blink independently of each other, like some sort of amphibian.

Sorry John, but this girl is moving on...I'm starting to think Steve Johnson is hot, and the dude is sporting an eye patch.

I used to be your #1 fan,

Ali




*Hi to all you readers of The Princess Diaries! Obviously, this isn't the Princess herself, but she had asked me to come do a guest post for her since her life is in total and complete chaos at the moment. I wasn't entirely sure what to write about, and John has been on my mind lately - lol - so there you go.

Painful and Overwhelming and Rewarding and Wonderful All at Once...

So, I now work in "education." And it's the busy time of year - you know cause schools start in September and all.
I hate to break it to everyone, but September? It's in less than 2 weeks.

So anyhow, I am overwhelmed and stressed etc etc. (See title)

So I am going on a wee bit of a break. I have asked a few lovely people to do some guest posts, cause I thought I could guilt them into it and all.

But if anyone else is willing???

*Insert eyelash flutter here*

I would love love love it. And I'll send you cookies and presents and kisses etc etc. And you know that all the gifts will be wrapped in 10 zillion dollar paper cause that's just how I roll.

Anyhow. I am beginning that next week. So forgive me if you see me less around your blogs and commenting less often. I am working overtime and when I'm home I'm sleeping.

I love you all!

xoxo

Diary Excerpt From a 17 year Old After She Gives It Up

July 26, 1992

Hi, I had another turning point today. Dave and I finally did have sex (To use the term "finally" loosely- he began the pressure in the first few days of the relationship) . It was way different than I expected. For one thing, I expected a lot more pain than I got (There was still plenty of it, and blood though). In the beginning there was some and I almost changed my mind again but I kept going.

It was rather awkward because he said he wanted me on top so I could decide how deep to go and when to stop (Geez- details I have NO memory of). Then when we got that initial part over with we switched. I kind of felt like I was doing nothing. It seems like he was doing all the work (See even then I wanted give it my all - damn I'm awesome!).

Oh well (Hmm, I got over that pretty quickly didn't I?), anyways after a while there was not pain at all, but it wasn't really what I expected. I was concentrating so much on what was happening that I couldn't enjoy it as much as I should have (though I did enjoy it). (A miracle - cause really - hands up- who enjoyed their first time, honestly??)

I can see now why people can do this so often and for so long ("So long"? Hmm, he must have been better than I remembered). I still feel somewhat like a virgin though because of the condom (Good Lord, even back then I was trying to say that certain experiences "didn't count" Sorry Princess- you've been officially de-flowered). Maybe I should go on the pill so we don't have to use it. (Thank God I waited a couple of years before I discovered the crazy-making joys of the pill) I'll feel much better when it's not on. That way I'll have the full experience. I don't know, but it seems like it would be more enjoyable without it on, for both of us (Well yes- but stupid for talking that way since he had gotten his girlfriend before me pregnant).

I feel like I should feel like a different person, but I don't. It happened. I'm glad it did, but I knew that it would happen someone time soon (since he threatened to break-up with you if you didn't have sex with him soon? You're a genius.) so nothing has really changed.

Oh the Angst! The Drama!

I was reading my old diary the other day. I like doing that every once in a while. The experience of being 15 is so much more dramatic than my life now. It actually gives me warm squishy feelings inside to know that life will never be that angsty again.

So since it was SO hilarious, I thought I would share some of the high (or low depending on whether you're me now or then) points, and perhaps offer some sage advice:

* Boys: when your girlfriend's grandmother has just died, offering to let her give you a blow job? Not so much comforting. AND you may just run the risk of some not-so-accidental teeth scrapage.

* The return of Bo to Days of our Lives? NOT diary worthy. And when re-reading that 20 years later may make you wish that you could time travel back to age 13 and slap yourself across the head for being so stupid.

* Your Best Friend and boyfriend giving each other half-dressed massages in a hotel room while on a band trip? Not appropriate, and you ARE allowed to get all angry. And demand gifts and sucking up from both of them. Oh? He gets mad at you for getting annoyed with it? Dump his ass.

* Exact quote from my 17 year old self: "On Friday night Dave got drunk and was kissing Maria and grabbing her breasts and had his hand down her pants...On Thursday night Dave was telling me how much he loved me and how he'd do anything to keep me. Well this isn't exactly what I had in mind. I was thinking flowers maybe?"
I don't even have anything to say here - other than, wow, even in the midst of being cheated on by my first bf- I'm impressed that I still had a sense of humour about it.

* If your friend is involved with a guy, things get ...complicated...he begs for her back, and he then asks you out a few weeks later when things don't work out with them. Uhh maybe think about the timeline a bit. Draw it out on paper maybe. Yeah you're 19 and you're not used to male attention, but is this a good idea? Remember high school? Not touching your friends' exes or wanna-be's? Yeah- stick with that rule.

* February 6, 1995: "I am writing this so 20 years from how I'll remember exactly how I feel at this exact moment. A BROKEN HEART SUCKS! Why would people ever fall in love for a second time? Right now poems make me cry, TV shows, the thought of Valentine's Day is agony. Maybe I'll buy a bunch of hearts and sappy cards just so I can destroy them."
Thoughts: OK I have, and always will hate poetry. So wtf? Did I start reading it just to torture myself? I remember the TV show that made me cry - it was Party of Five. I certainly hope it was paper hearts that I was planning on destroying. The real thing would be messy.

Oh! Oh! I just found the entry I wrote after the first time I had sex. This deserves to have it's own post. Tomorrow...

xo

Drivers and Walkers and Cyclists- Oh My!

So I drive. And I am also occasionally a pedestrian. (Really?! OMG Princess- it's amazing the way you and I have something so obscure in common!) Ahem. Sorry, I couldn't come up with a more fascinating intro. Anyways, this is going to be one of those posts where I simply rant about one of my pet peeves.

Yesterday I'm in a parking lot of a mall with the sole purpose of finding a post office to mail out my blog prizes. Now I hate parking lots. You know why? Because people seem to think that they don't have to adhere to the normal rules of driving/cycling/walking when in them.

Now I can't speak for everywhere, but this particular parking lot has pretty much the same set up for traffic as the street. I.e Stop signs, cross walks, bus stops, sidewalks etc. So one would think that one would do the same thing that they normally do when outside.

But no, it seems to me that when people get into "parking lot mode" all rules and regulations go right out the window. It's like they're just soclose to that shoe sale that they simply cannot show some common courtesy to those around them.

Cyclists? Ugh, that's a rant in and of itself. I personally think all cities everywhere should have specific cycling lanes. I saw them in London and think they were the best invention EVER. (Next To Harry Potter and the Spice Girls of course). But here- the cyclists just zoom in and out and don't seem to care that they're freaking the hell out of drivers.

Pedestrians? If you simply cannot walk the 12 extra steps to a cross-walk, can you at least look both ways before darting out into traffic? Seriously - would you let your children do this?

Other cars? C'mon- just wait a few seconds and let those pedestrians go. They have just as much right and important tasks to do at the mall as you.

I'm not a particular fan of malls period. I would far prefer to spend a few extra dollars and go to a little boutique store, simply because I have such a hate on for ...well people. But when I do go to the mall? Or anywhere that has a huge-ass parking lot? Yeah, it doesn't do anything to soothe my hatred of that experience.

And don't even get me started on going to Wal-Mart both in the store and outside in the parking lot. My. Own. Personal. Hell.

End rant.

xo

Maybe I Should Get a Pet??

So I was thinking last night about how much the internet/blogging world has completely taken over my existence.

Exhibit A (conversation between me and My Dear Anon)

Princess: So D2 has some married chick asking him to father her children.
MDA: Oh-Ehm-Gee! (OMG for those who need translating) (Short for "Oh My God" for those who need even more translating)

Exhibit B (conversation between me and internet boy)
Internet Boy: So who is K?
Princess: Oh she's my BFF
Internet Boy: What's a BFF?
Princess: This obviously isn't meant to be.
(Again, for those who need translating - BFF = Best Friend Forever)

Exhibit C:
I am becoming concerned that I am turning all stalkerella on some of my blog crushes. They're in my feed reader, I send them emails, I twitter them, I be-friend them on facebook, I am thinking of buying their merchandise.

For the record my darling crushes (not all of whom even necessarily read this blog): I am far too poor and lazy to hang out in front of your houses or anything.*But I totally love you and want to be your BFF.

Exhibit D:
I was totally excited when I found out that some of my blog crushes are in the same area as my family holiday next spring. Who wants to spend the day in Disneyworld with me in April???
I'm sure my family won't mind- it's not like they're paying for me to be there or anything.
Oh wait. Yeah they are.

So anyhow, I think I need to get a life. Or a boyfriend. Or a plant. Something.


*I think the only person I would bother stalking is the lady across the courtyard from me. Sometimes we're totally sitting on our couches and watching TV at the same time! It's like we're the same person!

Nobody Doesn't Like Sara Lee...

I don't cook. Most nights I eat Kraft Dinner or a sandwich for supper.
I do make the occasional curry, but on the whole dinner is a pretty simple affair.

But I bake. I'll see photo of something and decide to invent it. Yup- I'm Betty Crocker.

So naturally My Dear Anon requests me to assist when she decides to repay her neighbours for constantly giving her free berries and such.

They gave her blueberries this past weekend. I whole-heartedly support her turning them into muffins and sending them back to the neighbours. I'm not a fan of the blueberry. Not muffins or pancakes. Not pie. Not alone. Not juice. At most I will let them sit in a bowl and I'll acknowledge that they're pretty. Other than that? Evil.

So fine. We go and buy supplies. Then we realized we forgot the muffin cup liners. Out we go again to get those. OK! We're all set.

Muffins first. My Dear Anon reads the recipe and I stir. MDA doesn't like my stirring. Seems to think everything should be blended. Anal.

So the muffins bake and we then move on to the oatmeal cookies she's decided she wants to give to her family. OK!

I read the recipe and she stirs. I show her the art of not measuring and just tossing things in. It's more creative that way. Makes you feel more chef-like. She gets all cranky when I ignore the whole "dry ingredients should be mixed separately from wet ingredients" thing. Uptight.

Then she decides she wants some cookies for herself without raisins. What's that about?

So I pick out the raisins from a few of the cookies, then decide that some raisins would be good for her and stop trying.

So we bake. And watch the Olympics.

20 minutes later she tries a cookie. And makes a face. WTF?! Hello - I just helped you create art! Don'tyoumakethatface!!

I tried a bite. Oh yeah that sucks. What kind of crappy recipe did you use? Let me see that.
Oh.
Uh MDA? Did we remember to put in sugar? Oh - uh, did I forget to tell you to put in sugar?

Oop.

So I owe My Dear Anon and her family some cookies.

And I haven't heard the end of it on facebook ever since. Every day she has a new status. "...is craving cookies." "...likes sugar. Especially in cookies." Yadda yadda.

Don't know why I'm friends with her anyhow.

xo

Today is a New Day

OK I don't want that post to be on the top anymore.
Really must learn to save my depressed evenings for my diary and not force my darling readers to endure it with me!
Blah...

Goo

I went for lunch with K the other day and we were discussing women and self-esteem and all that kind of thing. I know it makes my people sad, but I don't think particularly highly of myself. I mean I don't think I'm dumb or god-awful ugly - but for the most part that's all the credit I'll give myself.

Glamour Puss asked me the other day why it is that I find people to be so draining, and whether it was because I feel that I have to please them. In a sense, yes. That's a big part of it. In another sense it's also because I put so much effort into "handling" people.

You see a lot of people confide in me - which I love. I love that I am able to give people some sort of outlet for their frustrations. But at the same time, it shows me a side of a lot of people that not everyone sees. I see what annoys them, and what they hold back from showing people. I see that they grit their teeth and "put up with" people around them.

Now because I know that people do that, I don't ever want to annoy people myself. So I am constantly censoring and measuring my words and actions. Before I speak to anyone I pause. It's just a moment, but it's enough to give me time to gauge their reactions and figure out what kind of mood they're in and how to word what I want to say.

It goes beyond apologising for interrupting. It's assessing their mood, and frame of mind to the point where I will just walk away and not say anything if I think it's going to cause them to be annoyed with me.

Now one might say that this is common courtesy and that everyone does this. I would think so too. I mean doesn't everyone go out of their way to not annoy people? Apparently not. You see the Princess had therapy, and there I found out that what I was doing I was taking to an extreme. I still have a hard time believing that, because even as I'm typing it, it sounds like such a reasonable thing to do. But apparently I'm not entirely correct in that.

So it's safe to say, that along with not thinking very highly of myself, and not really trusting people - people kind of scare me. I think it's a combination of knowing what goes on in my head - and how frustrated I get with humanity, and listening to what people confide in me, and knowing how everyone else feels.

So yes, I find people draining. Not necessarily in a bad way- but in the way that makes me need to take some time out every once in a while. Some time to kind of re-charge and remind myself that just because people vent about other people - doesn't mean that they are complaining about me to yet other people. There's no hidden message there that the things that they are saying to me about "someone else" is actually in reference to me.

I don't know where this insecurity comes from. And on top of that, I then get frustrated thinking that people even take the time to think or talk about me at all. I mean it's not like I'm that important anyhow. Why would they even bother?

Why would someone bother hacking into my email? Why would people bother monitoring this blog to make sure I don't post something I shouldn't? Why should I worry about posting up photos of myself on the internet? No one is going to be stalking me.

Seriously!
Before my Mom died she used to tell me all the time how amazing I was.
My friends will cheerfully tolerate me sending them emails at 2AM saying "I feel like a loser, tell me why you're even friends with me."
My brother gushes about me to all of his girlfriends.

So why do I constantly feel like I little pile of goo? Why the need for drugs and constant sleep? Why therapy? Why this post? Why am I rambling?

Actually, this is a good question- why am I rambling about this? I'm sure everyone has moments of feeling gooey - apparently this is my night for it. Thank you my darling internets for letting me have my moment of ...uhh...whatever you call this...

xoxo

Administrative Clean-Up

So I have highlighted the correct answers in the quiz below.

My Dear Anon got five correct, and my person got 4 correct. Perhaps I will take them for dinner at an Icelandic and/or Ukrainian place.
That left 2 other people who got 4 correct, and everyone got 3 or less.

So: the winners are: Princess Pointful and Jen!
Jen I have your address, but Pointful, if you want to email me yours, I will send out the prizes right away!

A few final notes on that weekend:

I am in awe how many things I forgot to pack. Seriously - a toothbrush? Why do I always forget that? A belt? Useful. *Le sigh*

No, I did not get sunburned. Although I did get a bit of colour which is kind of a miracle in and of itself.

I love love love amber. I am thrilled with the bracelet. It has a bunch of different colours of amber in it, and is even designed in such a way that the clasp isn't really obvious - it just blends with the rest of the design. If anyone ever wants to send me a gift...mmm amber...

So now I'm wondering what to do with the last long weekend of the summer. Labour day...
Any thoughts? Anyone want to entertain me? Anyone want to come up here and be entertained?

And I am so proud that I'm finally remembering to deal with this...remember how I mentioned some demon sandals a while back? They are the cutest things ever, but they caused me pain? Well here's a photo. They are size 9 and I'm totally willing to send them out to whomever is interested. Only worn once. (That was enough)

OK, I think I've done all my Administrative housekeeping now. Have a superfab Sunday everyone!

xoxo

I'm Your Venus, I'm Your Fire...

So the night before I went out with internet boy last week, I established some ground rules.

1. No I won't be having sex with you.
2. Ok, maybe I'll kiss you goodnight.
3. No I won't be picking you up at your place.
4. No I won't be driving you home.

He was confused by #3, and completely offended by #4.

I mentioned this to D2 while we were roadtripping last weekend. He didn't get it either.

Then I mentioned this to a couple of girlfriends. They all said "well duh." They got it immediately.

I find it both amusing (on a small scale) and sad (on a big scale) that men and women have such differing attitudes in something like this.

Men simply don't know that kind of fear. For the few women out there who go around boiling people's bunnies, there are hundreds of men who stalk and kill innocent women. Men can't know the potential apprehension we can feel when simply passing a stranger on the street. What if that guy looks twice at you? What if you suddenly become his object? What if he won't take no for an answer? What if...

Girls are taught from a very young age about defending themselves, and how most sexual assaults are committed by someone the victim knows. Our parents give us much more intense speeches about not walking alone at night, and checking in so they know we're safe. It's not that they love their daughters more than their sons, it's simply a fact that men are victimized only a fraction as often as women are.

I know men who have had women harass them. And I know of situations where it's ended quite badly. But that's the worst of it. I know women who have been harassed, stalked, assaulted and abused. And there's simply no comparison in the severity of the situations.

So as lovely as D2 and internet boy are, I find it silly that they couldn't figure out why I wouldn't get into a car with a stranger. Of course I understand that they are good guys, and they would most likely never hurt anyone. But the thing is, I think that men are capable of feeling rage to a degree that most women aren't even capable of producing.** Maybe it's a testosterone thing. Maybe it's a society thing. Maybe it's DNA. I don't know. But as women we have to be cautious.

Now I can appreciate the fact that the men reading this (I think I have 3 or 4 male readers) might possibly think that I/we are being paranoid. That we shouldn't dwell on the "what ifs" so much. But how can we not? Rape, and assault and abuse aren't new. They've gone on since the Neanderthals were clubbing women and dragging them back to their cave by their hair.

Oh Good Lord, this sounds like a bloody public service announcement. The point of this post, before I started going off on a tangent, is that it struck me as amazing that the women I spoke to about the driving home thing totally got it, and the men didn't. I'm not a big advocate of the Mars & Venus thing - but in this case it seems to be true.

xo

UPDATE: ** OK maybe this is an inaccurate statement. It's been pointed out that women are just as rage-y as men, which is probably true.

Hacker!? Seriously?!

So I came home from a post-work meeting the other night, and did my usual routine.

Tore out my contacts like they were secreting acid or some other toxic chemical. (Really should look into laser eye surgery)
Put on sweats
Pulled out a glass half full of last night's iced tea from the fridge (why can't I drink a whole glass?)
Sighed over the fact that I have a full fridge yet nothing to eat. (Really must clean out all the crap sometime)
Went to check my email/facebook/reader

There's where the confusing thing happened.

Let's first establish the timeline:
I left work at 4:30
Arrived at meeting for 5:00
Left meeting at 6:10
Arrived home at 6:45

Why was it that emails that arrived at 5:20 and 5:30 were already marked as read?

??!!

Did someone hack into my email?
Seriously??!!
Seriously.

My first thought is that I just somehow forgot that I had read those messages. But it's impossible based on the schedule above. And besides, I'm a freakshow about deleting all my blog comments from my email the second they arrive, and then rushing to the blog to read them, because somehow it just seems wrong to not read them there. And the read emails? Yeah, blog comments.

Who am I? Nobody. I know that I'm all famous with my 12 readers or so, but seriously...
Out of all the people in the world to hack - you want to read my emails?! OK. Well respond to my Aunt that I won't be coming to that family dinner after all mmmkay?

Why wouldn't you mark the messages as "unread" again? It's as if they wanted me to know that they were there.

Now my second thought was that this had something to do with my drama last week. You know, the one that led me to delete all my archives and start over? But that doesn't really make sense either. I can understand why people would be concerned about me posting certain things on the internet - but my personal email? And I don't know, isn't it like illegal to hack into someone's account? If not, it's at least ethically wrong.

My next (naive) thought was that it was done by mistake. Somehow someone accidentally did it, and they're very sorry for the little wee accident. Uh yeah, as if. And leprechauns exist too Princess, didn't you know? They're right over there having tea with Santa Claus and the Easter Bunny beside the pot of gold at the end of that rainbow.

And before anyone asks, YES I changed the password to my email. And YES, it was a stupidly easy password that Google wouldn't even let me use when I set up my gmail account. I'm sure any and all of you could have easily hacked into my account. In fact, how about you guess what the password was in the comments? I bet it's guessed within the first three people.

Anyhow.

I'm not overly traumatized or anything by this. I just found it to be weird. I mean why am I so interesting all of a sudden? And let's face it. Most people's emails are pretty dull. Right? Right!? (Please tell me it's not just me who has an email box full of dinner invites from my Aunt...)

xo

PS My little baby feeling are hurt that only a few of you entered my contest below. They're awesome prizes! Honest!

So You Think You Can Dance?

So darlings, I am back from a fabulous long-weekend. You want to know what I learned about myself this weekend? (OK, pretend that you want to know cause I'm totally going to tell you either way).

I learned that not only can I barely dance, D2 is in fact a fabulous dancer, and likes to do it.
Le sigh.
I did master the "heel toe" at the Ukrainian Festival. But I sucked at the waltz and the two-step. And apparently I've been doing the polka wrong my whole life.

Whatev.

But I did see some vikings this weekend. And some Ukrainian dancers. And a lot of puppies.

AND, I was totally thinking of my darling readers while I was at these festivals. So guess what!? I have some prizes to give away! I have one package from the Icelandic Fest and one from the Ukrainian Fest.

So here is a super fun quiz all about my weekend for you to answer. Whatever gets the most right wins! And I'm going to make it all easy and multiple choice.

1. What did the Princess invest in this weekend? (ALL of these were available)
a) An amber bracelet
b) A henna tattoo
c) A bellydancing skirt
d) Ukrainian Easter Eggs

2. How many fights did the Princess and D2 get into this weekend?
a) 0
b) 1/2
c) 2
d) 4 1/2

3. What did D2 do for the Princess while stopping in to visit his Mom at the end of the weekend?
a) Apply aloe to her sunburn
b) fix her suitcase
c) wash her car
d) massage her feet

4. Which small towns did D2 and the Princess hit this weekend?
a) Dauphin, Gimli, Onanole, Morden, Neepawa
b) Dauphin, Minnedosa, Gimli, Clear Lake, Winnipeg Beach
c) Gimli, Elie, Poplar Point, Dauphin, Clear Lake
d) Gimli, Dauphin, Winnipeg Beach, Gladstone, Elie

5. There were free movies at the hotel, what did the Princess and D2 watch on Saturday?
a) Four Brothers
b) Blade Trinity
c) Music & Lyrics
d) A & B
e) B & C

6. How many of D2's women did the Princess meet this weekend?
a) 2
b) 3
c) 4
d) 5

7. How many of D2's women did we avoid this weekend, either by ignoring the phone or by scurrying away and hiding?
a) 2
b) 3
c) 5
d) 8

8. What did the Princess forget to pack this weekend?
a) toothbrush
b) facial cleanser
c) belt
d) accessories
e) sunscreen
f) all of the above

9. What did the Princess realize was the best $2.99 she ever spent this weekend?
a) Her cherry lip balm
b) Her bag of M & M's
c) Her flip flops
d) Her tube of aloe

10. How many drinks (alcoholic) did the Princess and D2 consume this weekend?
a) 0
b) 4
c) 5
d) 10

That's all folks! I hope you all had a superfab long-weekend too!
xoxo

10 Things About My Life Right Now

So it's stressing me out that I have so few posts in existence now, so I notice that I seem to be writing one everyday at lunch.

First item on the agenda: I want to say that I love and adore you all for the blog awards that you've given me. I cherish each and every one of them, but I'm removing them. I want to clean up a bit.

Second item: what do people really think about paid posts/blog advertising? I don't see an issue with making some easy money doing something that I love. But there seems to be a moral grey area here. What are your thoughts?

Third item: I am heading into a long-weekend and D2 and I are festival hopping. There's an Icelandic Festival and a Ukrainian Festival happening in different parts of the province this weekend, so we're going to do the road trip thing. I'm very excited!

Fourth item: I had an argument with Columbia House yesterday and I was a little bit rude. For some reason they signed me up for 2 accounts and sent me DVDs for each. I opened both DVDs and watched them happily. I realized that I had 2 accounts and phoned to rectify the matter. The guy started giving me a lecture about how you should always verify account numbers before you open things...Blah Blah. I interrupted him mid-sentence, said I appreciated the lecture and all, but what are we going to do about my situation. I'm getting cranky in my old age.

Fifth item: I would really like a slurpee right now.

Sixth item: Anyone wanna join me in Toronto in September? Girls, I'll pay for the hotel room - we can have a slumber party! Boys- I'm not that kind of girl. Regardless of HOW LONG IT'S BEEN since I last had sex.

Seventh item- I kinda want some M & M's too.

Eighth item: I deleted half my "friends" from Facebook the other day as a result of the crap that caused me to delete my archives here. It was perhaps an over-reaction, but do I really need to be friends with my dentist anyhow?

Ninth item: I think I'm going to take myself to the Dark Knight tonight. I've only heard good things about it. And some of the good reviews came from people (like me) who weren't fond of the last one in this series.

Tenth item: Who wants to place bets on whether or not D2 and I get into a fight (or several) this weekend?

Love you all! Have a great long weekend!
xo