The Worst.

I know. I know. Where the h-e-double-hockey-sticks have I been, anyway? Well, let me tell you:

I found this super-cool-looking antique wardrobe and while I was checking it out, all of a sudden I was whisked into a world of perpetual winter, where all the animals talked! There were all kinds of animals, too, even ones we don’t have in this neck ‘o’ the woods: unicorns, fauns, mermaids and centaurs…

Oh wait, that’s Narnia. I didn’t go to Narnia. That’s just a story (albeit my favourite story of all time in the history of ever). I wish I went to a magical land filled with wonderfulrishical creatures. And not just because I was buried in ever-increasingly frustrating work and commitments, either. I mean, I did wish it more because of those reasons, but let’s call a spade a spade here: I pretty much wish the places in my favourite books and stories were real ALL THE TIME. And by all the time, I don’t mean fleetingly, whilst I reminisce about my childhood and those fanciful days of my youth. I mean ALL THE TIME. Life would be cooler and things would always work out and honour and justice would always prevail. Plus, unicorns. I’m just saying…

But no, I was just busy. Sorry ’bout that. I don’t enjoy it, either, but it would seem that, in fact, I am not the boss of me. I don’t know who is, but whoever makes my plans has some serious issues with scheduling and time management. I mean, come ON. I’m so tired, but all I hear is “Mush, MUSH!” and on and on I go.

Whatever. I’m whining. But hey! Look over here! Guess what though? The Fabulous France Foray is really taking shape. This is a very good thing, since we leave in 15 days. That is not a lot of days. Jen has planned us a TRIP THE LIKES OF WHICH YOU HAVE NEVER SEEN. You guys. There will be museums. And art. And palaces. And mirrored hallways. And crypts (“I [will] see dead people“). AND CASTLES OF THE MEDIEVAL ERA! And baguettes. And Bordeaux. And Nice beaches (there’s a pun in there, for you clever devils). And wine.

Oh, the wine. We’re looking at wine tours and all I hear is “this one takes us to a Roman aqueduct” and I’m all like, “TAKE ME TO THE AQUADUCT OF ANCIENT ROME-Y TIMES.” I mean, you guys, people (like you and me, but shorter in stature and life expectancy) built this stuff like a million years ago. Or a thousand years. Maybe a couple of thousand? I really don’t know. I should brush up on my history. This coming from the girl with an undergraduate degree majoring in Anthropology, with enough history classes to have pulled a double major. Well. I can’t be expected to remember everything. Or what I had for dinner last night. Or, what I had for dinner tonight, come to think of it.

So, yeah. I’m excited. Hence, when work is stressful, I just pretend that all I hear is “baguette”. It’s working out for me, as a stress-reduction method. You should probably try it out. I call it “The Paris Effect”. Or “The Baguette Effect”. Or whatever.

Baguette.”

Check out my reading stash (oh, okay: I’ve been reading the Hunger Games trilogy, too):

I guess this is where we find out how rusty my 1st language is after all this time.

I also finished teaching my last ballet yoga class on Tuesday. It’s kind of bittersweet. My students were awesome, but I’m reaching burnout levels and thus, my spare time is at a premium. I got paid $231 for 8 weeks of classes (which is well below my personal premium). Not that it’s all about the money, but that’s little compensation for basically losing my entire Tuesday nights for two months. Now I’m just teaching one class at work, but with 4 new students! I’m stoked on these great ladies joining the mélange! How cute is this, though: Two of my ballet yoga students brought me a teacher’s gift, knowing I was heading off to France. How amazing is that? I’ve never gotten a teacher’s present before!

 

With tried-and-true, must-visit addresses for the Parisian visitor!

 

Oh what a feelin’!

Okay, before you read more, click on this and set the mood. You’re welcome. Just bringing a little excitement to your lives.

Now, back to this post. I do not mean the above title in the way that the song does. This was not an “oh-happy-day” kind of Tuesday, if you get my meaning. I mean, seriously, people. SERIOUSLY. Get ready for some whining. Or not. You don’t have to read on. I’m not making you (but there’s a treat at the end if you do!).

Today started with my work laptop not working. For several hours, I tried to put out fires (not literal ones, though it did feel like a hot seat to me) on my work Blackberry, while talking with the help desk to figure out why on earth I had no access to the network. Just for the record, not having access to the network means I can’t access the internet, my email or any of my files. This may come as a surprise, but believe it or not, this particular scenario doesn’t make for a particularly productive morning. And, you guys. YOU GUYS. There was stuff going wrong all over the darn place. I was like a superhero without a spandex suit. I kept thinking of this video all day long, but I couldn’t watch it, because I had NO INTERNETS.

We’re not 100% sure it’s not my laptop (who says there’s no mystery left in life?), but it would seem the issue is that we have more laptop/mobile workers than IP addresses. For real, you guys. It’s like musical chairs. If you’re not quick, you get 2 sticks and a piece of twine with which to accomplish your wonders. I’m like McGyver! That would actually be pretty cool!

By the end of the day, I had a tension headache, a class to teach and was so busy following up on a million things today that I couldn’t get anything done, which leaves me behind. Or, I suppose more behind would be more accurate, because HOLY MOLY I’m already so far behind I’ve taken to laughing all high-pitched and nervously like the mom on That 70’s Show. That laugh is indicative of my need for a massage, a rage cage and a week off. Or possibly just a nap. Who knows.

Whatever. I’m done whining. Tomorrow is Wednesday, which is a good thing. What’s not to love about Wednesday?

Also, I’m going to Paris in 23 days. Baguette. Fromage. Du vin. Mmm… Just need to find accommodations, otherwise we’ll be sleeping on a park bench. I hear the parks in Paris are lovely this time of year. HAHAHAHA (that was high-pitched, but still happy).

Here’s my plan for tomorrow: Whenever things get stressful, I’m going to hum the Indiana Jones theme song and pretend it’s an adventure. Because really, whatever I’m dealing with isn’t going to be poisoned figs or monkey brains, so I’m doing pretty good, actually.

He may not look smart, but he's ours and we love him. He plays fetch. Does your cat play fetch? I didn't think so.

To think that was a short week.

Well. Didn’t this week just about knock me over, after kicking me firmly in the arse. In four short days. And I even saw it coming! Well, sort of. I mean, I knew things were building up somewhat, because the waters had been placid for about too long. Not that I wasn’t busy; I was indeed Getting Things Done, but now Things Have Really Picked Up.

That’s sort of how my job goes: It’s pretty busy most of the time, but now and then it really kicks it up a notch. I tend to become quieter, shut my door (well, I did, when I had a door to shut) and take some timeouts to give myself pep talks and write lists. Generally speaking, the lists help me focus, but they also tend to freak me out and while I enjoy scratching off my accomplishments, there are days when I seem to work at 96 things full tilt, getting nowhere. I do not like those days. They are not Feel-Good days.

At these times, people tend to notice I’m no longer my happy and optimistic self. I do not laugh as much and I get a very stern look on my face. Possibly because I’m annoyed that working in communications is always so stressful. You know the saying, “A lack of preparation on your part does not constitute an emergency on mine”? Yeah, that’s true, except for people who work in communications. Especially if you need many, many approvals. Le Sigh.

Anyway, I’m there again. Boo hoo. I’m working on many things and feeling disorganized and not very successful, since everything is late. Lateness stresses me out (I know some of you are thinking, “But, Bay, you’re ALWAYS late!” You are not incorrect, my friends. I am often tardy and it drives me bonkers.). I end up feeling harried and more disorganized, which one might think was nearly impossible, but alas! It is not impossible. And then, there I am, kicking myself in the derrière whenever the Week has given me a reprieve between the deliverance of rear-end kickings.

Do you have times like this in your jobs? How do you cope/deal/accomplish things? Because I’d love to know.

On another, slightly less sorry-for-myself front, we just saw Mirror, Mirror. It was cute, but a little lacking in substance. I would’ve liked the direction to go either more glossy fairy tale, or more ironic. The sets were quite pretty (birch forest in winter and amazing castle on a cliff) and the focus was clearly on intricate and ornate costuming. I felt it had a very theatrical feel (that’s two feelings in one sentence: verb and noun. I’m impressed with all that feeling). The dwarves were pretty awesome (comic relief) and I enjoyed the repeated references to the people singing and dancing in the days of yore, and how “apparently people didn’t need to have jobs then”. It wasn’t the worst thing I’ve ever seen, but I am looking forward to Snow White and the Huntsman this summer.

On another note, I think that I would make a pretty decent Snow White (in my humble opinion), if it weren’t for the fact that I’m kind of latté coloured. Such a shame. They never write (wrote?) fairy tales about tan/olive-y coloured princesses. Le Sigh encore.

Hey, but I’m going to take a ballet class tomorrow, which is awesome. One way to put a ruthless work-week behind you is to lose all dignity in front of many mirrors, whilst wearing pink tights. I can’t wait! (I’m actually serious: ballet class always feels like home)

This is me, aged 13. I still have this costume, which, just for the record, still fits.

I just realized it looks like I have four legs in the above photo. Rest assured, my friends, that this is an optical illusion. I have only two legs. There is, in fact, another dancer behind me. Those are her legs. Just in case you were confused.

Being all important and stuff.

Tomorrow, I’m going to be hanging out at the Legislative Building. Uh huh. I’m a very important person, you see. So, accordingly, I will be doing such important tasks as—oh wait, I won’t be doing anything at all. Right. I forgot that I’m just taking a workshop and have no desire whatsoever to be in politics, ever. Ever. It doesn’t seem like a very fun job. I mean, if I’m gonna be on TV and in the papers and what have you, I’d rather be an actor. Kay, actually, I’d rather be an actor any day. That’s no secret.

But tomorrow, I will be at the Ledge. All the ding-dong day. Seriously; I have to be there at 7:45 am. That’s just wrong. And, I have to be dressed up. Sigh. And I can’t even blame anyone for this except myself, because I signed up for this workshop. Like two years ago. I just haven’t been able to make it yet. But tomorrow is The Day I shall. I Shall.

I’m not sure why I have to be all dressed up, but I do think I probably should’ve ironed something tonight. However, I was very busy teaching ballet yoga and then watching Game of Thrones. That’s right: This kid’s got priorities and they often include fantasy fiction.

Back to the dressing up, though: This is what I wore on Easter Sunday:

Yeah, them's jeans. And Toms. One for One and all that jazz. Actually, probably pretty good shoes to wear to church, come to think of it...

You know, the day they rolled the stone away. Kind of a big day for those of us who’ve been known to hit our knees/hit up a church now and then. But you know what? Jesus wore sandals and I’m pretty sure He’s down with my style. Pretty sure also that He recognizes there are bigger things to worry about. But the Legislative Assembly, however, does not recognize this point, unfortunately, so dress up I shall. Begrudgingly. I will look super, but not by choice, galldarnit.

I am kind of hoping this is like finding a leprechaun/visiting the Godfather on his daughter’s wedding day/finding a genie in a bottle. Because I’ve got my wish all ready: Please may I please have my student debt all forgiven. Okay thank you bye.

The Finish Line

Happy Easter! I was so busy planning my chocolate finding/eating that I forgot that I needed to wrap up my Lenten blogging mission. One blog each day for 40 days. I realize I missed a day, but just for the record, I DID blog on Sundays, which were technically freebies. I’m going to keep it up, I’ve decided, but I’m aiming for a minimum of four posts per week. Not because I don’t want to blog daily (I just know you’d be at a loss without my random thoughts and insightful commentary), but more because I need to make sure I’m not staying up super late just to post, thus inhibiting my early-morning routine. Which makes me grumpy.

Just for the record, I didn’t consume as much dessert as you might think. Actually, that’s a lie: We did find the restaurant we’ve been trying to recall for three days. We couldn’t remember the name and weirdly, Googling “awesome sundae” didn’t provide us with the clarity we hoped to find. All I knew was that the place had stuff hanging from thingys. I know, right? Shocking we couldn’t find it… But then we DID!

Here is what the sundae looked like, before and after:

What's that on the right? Oh, it's the hot-fudge conveyance mechanism. NBD.

 

The carnage. This took 3 people...

Earlier today, I was looking for a church to attend Easter mass. I found a little one:

The local church, aka Saint James Cathedral

You know, just a small local chapel. Seriously, this place was gorgeous and the music was amazing. There were symphony members and a massive choir. Definitely a post-Whoopie kind of choir, if you get my drift. Here’s what it looked like inside. I don’t know if this photo does this place justice, but it was a lot of beauty:

Heavenly pretty gold dangly stuff!

All in all, a pretty awesome Easter Sunday. Although, no Cadbury Mini Eggs. This may possibly be a good thing. The jury’s still out… (we’ll be finding some mini eggs tomorrow)

I’d write more, but Adam’s sawing logs and it’s making me jealous. Check you later, skaters. Oh wait, one more picture of today’s awesome weather, because it was really an amazing day:

Not sure how I haven't had hay fever yet, but I don't miss it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Seattle Day Deux

Day DOO! Hahaha. Oh, I am tired. My feets are swollen. I think I may have walked to northern California today. It’s quite possible.

Today was a good day. Seriously, you guys, the weather was ridiculously lovely. I even had a shop girl tell me upon my entry to the store that I had overdressed for the day. Thank you, Captain Obvious. Don’t make light of a person who is bearing shopping bags, with their coat on their arm and who is just a little bit sweaty. Big mistake. Big. Huge. Well, actually, not really, since I still bought stuff from that store, but still. STILL.

Anywho, I done good today. I got me some RIDICULOUS shoes, which shall receive a post of their very own. Just you wait (you really haven’t got much choice in the matter). I also got some less ridiculous shoes, but I’m still excited about them (I DO love shoes). No jeans, because I officially ran out of jean-trying motivation whilst eyeing up a pair of white jeans and wondering how long I’d wear them before sitting on wet paint or spilling POM juice on ’em. I figure 23 minutes, tops.

I went to Forever 21, too. I’ve heard a lot about this place. I can tell you I will NEVER go back there. That’s just not my idea of fun shopping. It’s a HUGE store, in a HUGE mess. I can’t handle that kind of thrift-store vibe. I get angry and annoyed and all like, “WHY CAN’T ANYONE TELL ME WHERE ANYTHING IS IN HERE?”

I also feel bad about buying extremely cheap crap that I figure will fall apart possibly before I leave the house the first time I wear it. I bought a couple of tops, because I figured I’d been in there too long and would never get that time back ever, so I’d better have something to show for it. Here are some of the highlights of my internal dialogue:

“This is what’s wrong with the world and now I’m being part of the problem.”

“Bay, it’s a sunk cost. You know this. Get out and spend your money elsewhere.”

“No, I do NOT wish to rehang my discarded items.”

I mean, really: I did my time in retail, which included putting away and folding/hanging discards. I no longer wish to do this and they really can’t afford my hourly rate.

I also felt very Canadian. Especially when the dude at Nordstrom Rack (an employee, no less! Harrumph!) backed up onto MY foot, without apologizing AND despite my polite “oh—watch out!” and then I apologized. Good grief. And I heard a lot of “uh huhs”. Adam is onto something there…

I also got my bangs trimmed, which was great. Because I then could actually see. It turns out the reason I couldn’t find a restaurant was because I literally couldn’t SEE them. And I bought 3 chocolates to eat first thing in the morning! And was propositioned by a table of sailors. You know, as you do.

Hey, so I shopped here, at Abe_bie &:

Why wear pants when you can just hold them?

Interestingly, when I took a picture with the flash on, this is what happened:

Could it be? Is this guy luminescent?

It’s official: I think Abercrombie & Fitch uses vampires for models. Because they glimmer in the light.

 

Zombie apocalypse: Are you ready? Also, I’m in Seattle.

The reason I ask is because, apparently, Mother Russia is working on zombie guns. Not guns that will effectively deal with the undead, mind you, but guns that turn you  into one. Because that’s what we’ve been missing ’til now. What the world needs now is not love; it is mindless, people-eating drones. Clearly. Don’t worry, though; if you’re worried about how to cope in the event of such a disaster, the CDC has you covered. Seriously, you guys, the stuff that is legit in this world is pretty sad. And yet, no unicorns. Sigh.

What I find interesting about this is that there are people starving in this world (despite there being more than enough food for everyone), but money goes into the creation of this garbage. People with no place to call home, no bed to rest their head at night. Children living in terrible conditions, facing even worse times ahead if they’re lucky enough to grow up. But Russia is making zombie guns. Humanity’s priorities are a mess. <<shakes head sadly>> Who’s gonna make the anti-zombie gun? You know, the one that shoots love and puppy kisses?

Speaking of zombies, today was Sakura-con here in Seattle, which is an anime convention. This means a lot of people were wandering around in fairly uninspired costumes, including zombies, vampires and various characters of unrecognizable renown. We did see a pretty darned realistic and accurate Daenerys from Game of Thrones, dragon included. Well done, pretty blond girl, well done.

Adam and I wandered around today and shopped it up. I didn’t get much—a few tops— but I got lots of ideas and tried on EVERY PAIR OF JEANS IN THE WORLD. Okay, it was 5 pairs. But still. STILL. Pulling skinny jeans on and off  is frustrating and causes my undies to bunch up/down/all around. TMI? Too bad. I don’t know about you, but I find the buying of new jeans to be one of the most tiresome and annoying tasks in the world. My fingers are blue from pulling up all the newly dyed indigo. I’m always worried I’ll forget to put a pair on when I go out for another size, and there I’ll be, in my knickers, in the middle of a store. This didn’t happen today, thankfully.

I have some missions for tomorrow. One of which is the finding of Cadbury Mini Eggs. Because Easter is in T-minus 2 and we got nuthin’. I’m mildly concerned that they don’t sell them here, which makes me sad for the US, but mostly for me. I KNEW we should’ve bought that mamma-jamma bag at Costco, Adam!

Pioneer Square. This is Adam's picture because I didn't take too many today.