Monday Morning Forgetfullness

Monday mornings are hard for me, as I'm sure they are for most people. Well, at least those of us that don't wake up in the morning smiling and chirping like a happy bird...I hate those "oooo it's a new day eeeee" kind of people. I always wonder who slipped them a shot of serotonin during the night. I blame my mother for this discrimination. She used to come into my room when I was younger singing "it's time to get up, it's time to get up, it's time to get up in the moooooorning...." and flip the blind wide open...CLEARLY interrupting my dreams of kissing Jonathan Taylor Thomas (JTT as girls my age would know him by). Who wants to be woken up that way?? Other tricks of hers involved sneaking into my room and changing my alarm clock from radio to the actual buzzer, which was not unlike a fire alarm. She also insisted it be placed across the room so I would have to get up to turn it off. Her ploy didn't work...I would wake up with a heart attack, bash the damn thing off and hop back into bed.

This morning was especially rough...although my mom abandoned her tactics years ago, mostly because I have to get up earlier than her now anyways, I've resorted to hitting the snooze button at least 3 times before my dad yells at me to get up. He's the most effective alarm clock I've ever had. I stumble out of bed and with caveman language and grace, maneuver downstairs to eat, make my lunch, and back up to jump in the shower.

It was around this time that I had to stop, look around, and debate whether or not I had yet washed my body. Yes, I know your body is the largest part of you and is therefore the hardest part to miss, but for the life of me I couldn't remember. I smelt my arm to see if it smelled soapy, and it didn't...no scent whatsoever. I checked out my body puff, and yes, it smelled like soap and was wet, but this would be the case if I had used it that morning or not. So I thought just in case I'd better wash all over just to be sure. Upon rinsing, and actually recalling that I had done so, I smelt my arm again and it still didn't smell soapy...so I'm pretty sure I inadvertently washed my body twice. I've sort of had this happen before, but after a few minutes I can actually recall if I have or not...this time I couldn't...I guess it's old age. After all, I am the big 2-1 now...

My Birthday Adventure

WARNING: STORES THAT CLAIM TO BE OPEN 24 HOURS, HAVE OPEN DOORS, LIGHTS ON AND MUSIC PLAYING AND NO SIGNS TO INDICATE THEY ARE NOT OPEN MAY, IN FACT, ACTUALLY NOT BE OPEN.

Whew...glad I could warn you in time.

Thursday night we ventured off to the T-dot for my birthday. (T-dot = Toronto for those of you who aren't familiar with our ghetto slang). First we hit dinner at this upscale italian restaurant, then we hit the Mod Club. After we hit it, we actually went inside. BAHAHAHA. Ahhhh....*cough*

On the way to dinner, we walk past some creepy old Toronto guys in a truck who roll down their window to talk to us. It went like this: Guys: "Helloooo." Me: "Goodbyyyye." Diana: "Lorraine, don't be mean!" Me: "You're right...we'll probably get shot doing that here..." Diana: "Shhhh!!" *looks around cautiously* Me: "Hehehehe."

At the club, Diana got hit on and informed the guy she had a boyfriend and pushed me to him instead. Clearly he wasn't happy with this alternative as he turned away not long after. As I was complaining about this Diana decides to prove me wrong by bringing a random drunk guy sitting near us into the equation who previously said to us, and a I quote,"I am like a spider".
She asks him "she doesn't think she's pretty, don't you think she is??" Drunk guy rambles on, and keeps trying to get me to dance with him. I whisper to Diana that drunk people do not count and politely decline as best as I can.

Off we go to the car and make an effort to find water and washrooms. Dominion we think should solve both of these problems. The automatic door isn't working, but some guy comes up next to us and pulls the other door open, walks in, and we follow. We quickly note the lack of washrooms, which is not welcoming news for Dave who is on the verge of wetting himself.

We venture to the water bottle aisle where a cop soon approaches us; "Have you seen any staff working here?" Us: "No...not yet..." Cop: "Well, there's a good reason for that, we think the store is closed." (I suppose by this time in the morning it's technically Good Friday). We start laughing our asses off and he's laughing a bit too, and tells us to stay put while he tries to contact a manager. Meanwhile another officer has rounded up the first guy who came in and we all stand around together like herded sheep...at this point I don't even care if I get arrested just cause it would make a hilarious birthday story. He takes our ID's but I don't have mine on me, he says he'll take my word for it:

"Birthdate?" "Today, 1985."
Dave: "Can I leave for just a second to find a washroom?" Officer: ".......no."
Other guy: "I'm not giving you my ID, I haven't done anything wrong." Officer: "Well we're going to have to arrest you for breaking and entering then." I think to myself: It wasn't breaking and entering...aren't we really just guilty of entering??

The cop tells us we were caught on camera by CTV news. I didn't get to see it. But man would I kill to have a copy of that clip. They also caught a lady stealing a bouquet of flowers. Come on, if you're going to steal something at least make it good. I wish I'd grabbed a bag or something as a souvenir. They let us go not long after and I giggled all the way home.

Lesson learned: If the first door is locked, the second one probably should be too.

My ipod Adventure

Sometimes I buy things to make me happy. It never really works, but it's better than using drugs or sex to make me happy. Or IS it...*scratches chin*. I don't do the typical girl thing and buy clothes or shoes though, although I really should (I'm outgrowing all my clothes, which is sad cause I haven't grown any taller since grade 9). Instead I buy things like cd's or new gadgets. In fact, this new gadget should eliminate me having to buy cd's at all. Which is kinda sad cause I still like looking through them at the music store and finding a good buy for like, $10 or something. But yes, I invested in an ipod nano.

Do I really need an ipod nano? Probably not. Did I spend a ridiculous amount of money on it wiht it's accessories? Yes. Do I feel happy? Meh. I'm actually more pissed off at myself that I got swindled into buying things I wasn't prepared to buy. I should have just stuck with the ipod nano; instead I got suckered into a crappy mp3 holder that isn't even fit for the nano and new earphones ("I promise you you'll be back if you don't buy them now, and I can only give them to you for half off if you buy them now") WTF, I'm smarter than that! F'n shady salesman...he wasn't cool at all. In fact, he tried to rip me off by $8.00. You see, it was EHR's birthday sale so you get to pop a balloon with a discount in it, and if you mention Todd from the Dean Blundell Show's name you get to pop two balloons. Well, this salesguy didn't want to let me pop ANY balloons. "I'm already giving you half off on the earphones!" Ooooooo a whopping $25 bucks off a $400 purchase, you're a real saint there asshole. Thank you so much for ripping me off and then denying the discounts I'm entitled to if I spend over $100, which I am clearly doing. So I insisted on the ballons, won $8 off, which he coincidentally "forgot" to take off the bill. ARG.

So Todd from the Dean Blundell Show is there as well doing promo stuff (very nice in real life, much taller than I thought even though I've met him once before...) and I'm chatting to him and complaining a bit...he's like "that's ridiculous, come here..." and leads me up to the front of the store to talk to one of the guys. "This uhh...*looks at me* lady here was supposed to get $8 off her purchase, can you make sure that she gets it?" And I did...in your face salesguy!!

So now I have another gadget that I can get pissed off with when it doesn't work how I want it to (and I already have). And another purchase that I can feel guilty about wasting my money on in the pursuit of material happiness. Maybe I should just become a monk.