Cat vs. Ear

29 May

A couple weeks ago, maybe a month now (wow, time really has lost all meaning hasn’t it?), I got my ears pierced. Yes, I know, it is a thing most women have done when they are kids so it is simultaneously weird and strangely interesting to friends that I have done it now. I did get them pierced when I was a kid, I begged and pleaded and harassed my mother until she took me to get them pierced. It was horrible. Everyone said it doesn’t hurt, it did. Not knowing back then getting your ears pierced with a gun is a bad option. The person doing the piercing did not do a good job. The result was blood, pain, the piercings not healing, and lots of scar tissue in my ear lobes.

Why do people do this?

After all that I thought I was someone who couldn’t have pierced ears, since I had such a bad reaction to it. As an adult I googled a couple times to see if there was a way to get them pierced despite the scar tissue in my ear lobes and the results I found said I’d have to have a dermatologist surgically remove the scar tissue, wait for it to heal, then have the dermatologist pierce the ears. All that meant to me was a lot of money to get decorations on my ears, so I again dismissed pierced ears as a thing I couldn’t have.

I started thinking about it during 2020, the pandemic gave me way more thinking time so I looked into it, again. I found a piercer who said they could work around the scar tissue, and that it should be fine. I mean, they said more than that but I highly doubt you want a verbatim recounting of the conversation.

End result, I got them pierced. Experience went really well. It was done properly, with a needle, by a trained professional. Yay, right? Well, yeah, yay, but omg the healing process is a whole thing I was not expecting.

My work peeps said they would take a week to heal, and with all the questions I asked the piercer none of them were “how long is the healing process” so after a week when they weren’t hurting but were uncomfortable I reached out and asked her and she was all “a week? yeah right!” healing time for my ears, as an adult woman, is 4 months. Four months!! That is…commitment.

So there I am, cleaning my piercings three times a day, tending to them as instructed, actively having to ignore all the “advice” friends are giving me because they got their piercings as children and go figure things have changed since then when the cat goes and does something that put me on a whole new path for healing.

I was sleeping on my back, the cat is sleeping all snuggled up next to me, he stretched his front murder mittens out, towards my face, claws slightly extended and while one paw landed on my face the other got my ear and yanked on the piercing. It felt as if one of the claws actually got in the hole. So ya know, woke up to pain, lots of pain. I grabbed the cat’s murder mittens, held them in one hand, while breathing through the pain and telling him what he did is not ok, and do you know what he did? He started purring. Apparently he liked my holding his murder mittens all snugly like that and thought we were cuddling. Yes, this is how I discipline the cat, super effective huh?

That was a Saturday, I remember because I got up, cleaned the now very painful ear, then dealt with the pain all day, grateful I didn’t have to be at work. The next morning when I was cleaning my ears there was blood, the first blood there had been during this whole experience. Me being me I immediately jumped to “I’m gonna lose the piercing” dramatics and started searching things on YouTube and Google to see what to do. FYI, don’t do that, unpleasant things come up.

Since then I have been babying the right ear, trying my best to keep it happy and claw free. It was doing alright when Striker and I were playing and my ear got smashed, again, and when I put my hand to it in reflex I hit the lobe, causing even more pain. Like, wtf, my poor ear!

So here I am, I think a month in to healing, and there is a noticeable difference between my left and right ear. My left ear, which has had no claws, or hands, or anything bashing it, is healing well. The right ear is a constant flux between no pain, to discomfort, to pain. All it takes is a little touch on some days for full on pain, and yet, other days it gets touched and it seems ok, which gets my hopes up that it will eventually heal, and be fine, and I’ll be able to wear something beside these starter hoops that the piercer put in. Don’t get me wrong, I don’t hate the hoops, I just am hoping for a day I can change my earrings out, without pain and easily, so what I’m wearing can better reflect my mood, or personality, or whatever. I say this knowing that all my friends with pierced ears tend to wear the same earrings every day, every week, every month, every year, so maybe I’ll end up that way also? Let’s just hope the right ear lobe heals well enough for me to find out!

Taco Cat

18 Apr

Ok, so, last week I wrote about the whole getting beer on the cat incident, for which the cat made me pay dearly. This week I can top that, much to the cat’s dismay.

It all started when I decided to get tacos for dinner. There was quite a bit of sauce on the tacos, making them messy to eat. So I’m sitting at home eating my messy taco, sauce on my hands, when the cat starts making the noise he makes when he is about to be sick. He was in the carpeted living room so I sprang into action, I wanted to nab him and move him to the kitchen floor to be sick on the lino, a much easier clean up job for me.

Seeing me coming for him he runs to the bedroom, also a carpeted room, undeterred I follow and scoop him up by grabbing him around his middle and unceremoniously hauling ass to the kitchen.

To make sure he didn’t go for the carpet again I kept my hands around his sides until he was done. Once I knew he wasn’t going to be sick I removed my hands only to discover that there was no longer any taco sauce on them…it was all on the cat’s fur.

Yup, two hand prints of sauce on each side of his body, wrapping around his middle.

I feel I made the choice anyone would in that moment, I washed my hands and went back to my taco, no one likes a cold taco!

The cat, being severely unimpressed sat across from me, with his back to me, sitting straighter than I have ever seen him sit. For the rest of the evening whatever I did he sat in my line of site, back to me, completely upright. Like he was making a point of ignoring me and he wanted to make sure I was aware of it.

It’s possible he picked up on being so dramatic from me…maybe…

Beer Volcano

13 Apr

Picture this, I’m sitting on my comfy living room chair, my knees are bent and the cat is sleeping under my legs on the ottoman, you can’t see him though because there is a blanket draped over my legs creating a tent. On the table next to me is a can of beer, sitting for at least fifteen minutes to ensure it won’t go all foamy when I open it.

I lean over, grab the beer, crack it open, and a beer volcano ensues!

Beer flowing over the edge of the can soaking my sweater and blanket. It is so obviously a lost cause I stay still, letting my Eeyore sweater take the hit, foolishly thinking that will be the worst to happen. But no no, because the beer also flows onto the blanket, only the blanket for some strange reason doesn’t absorb the beer, instead the beer pools on the blanket. The valley of the blanket reaches max capacity and overflow occurs! Now beer is flowing quickly down the side of my body, soaking into my pants but also landing on my leather chair, beer is going everywhere…much like lava from a volcano, only ya know, not as hot. πŸ˜‰

Realizing the worst is much much worse than I anticipated I try to get up quickly but if you think getting a cat out of a cat tent when he is sleeping is a quick thing, well, trust me when I say it is not.

I start moving the blanket off my lap, using it to cup the beer since the beer still isn’t soaking through. My movements are sending beer flying all over the place while I’m nudging the cat awake. One quick confused glare from the cat and he is jumping off the ottoman and going to the bedroom to pout about his silly human and her weird ways.

After cleaning up the beer from the chair and the floor I go to the bedroom to get undressed because I now smell like someone who spent the night in a bar and am soaked; the cat is sitting on the bed looking disgruntled. Because I am well trained I apologize to him for rousting him so unceremoniously and lean over to give him a quick “I’m sorry” cuddle only to notice that his forehead is wet. No, not just wet, soaked, with beer.

Seems his anger wasn’t just at being woken but also at having beer poured on him! Oops?

I could not stop laughing, he was so funny. He had a little mohawk going on and just looked so hard done by. I just kept laughing and apologizing, which I think he thinks means I’m not sincere, but I promise I was! Then the thought, do I have to wash his fur to get the beer out, or can I just dry his forehead, because washing his fur will be an experience neither of us will enjoy.

Grabbing some tissues I start drying his head, while still laughing and apologizing, and all I can say is thank goodness I have a cat who trusts me and lets me randomly dry beer off his forehead without putting up a struggle.

After he was at more of a damp level I scooped him up for a proper apology cuddle, thinking we were out of the woods, but instead I uttered this question to him:

“Why is your paw wet?”

Yup, that’s right, little patches of beer soaked fur on various parts of him. More tissue, more drying of fur, more laughing by me, more disgruntled looks by him, and eventually he was at a consistent damp fur level in all affected areas, and I was regretting not stopping to take a picture before I dried away his mohawk.

Deciding neither of us needed the trauma of me trying to bathe him I had a shower while he pouted on the bed and later we both cuddled again while I drank the remainder of the beer, from a glass!

FYI, it was a really nice beer, I recommend it…the cat does not…

Fake Safety

26 Mar

I feel I should warn you, this maaaaay turn into a rant…

I like to hike; I tend to flip between what I think of as “real” hiking and “fake” hiking.

Real hiking is a trail you can’t just stumble on, you need to take gear because you could encounter all manner of random wilderness situations (and by gear I mean like, water, a phone, spare socks, rain shells, stuff like that, not ya know, ropes and carabiners so I can scale the side of a mountain, what am I, a mountain goat? πŸ˜‰ )

Fake hiking is more trail walking, trails you can get to more easily (I have one accessible from my neighbourhood), you just take music, maybe a water bottle, you don’t need to worry about being out too long in the elements or being stranded in the forest.

The majority of the time I do both of those types of hikes alone.

Of these two I think most people think “real” hiking is the more dangerous. I might come across wildlife, you can die in the wilderness, what if a sudden storm hits, or I fall and break a leg and nobody finds me. I tend to be the idiot who doesn’t always tell someone where and when I am going, and I pack light because I’m going for speed and distance, not a leisurely stroll. And again, I tend to be doing this on my own. What can I say, my days off aren’t most people’s days off and I like doing stuff like this on my own, I can go my own pace, enjoy being alone in nature, but ya know, not touching it cause ew. It’s just a thing I do that I don’t think too much about.

However, I think the argument can be made that my “fake” hiking is way more dangerous, and you wanna know why? Because of humans!

There was a story on the news lately about a woman downtown, in her own neighbourhood, out running errands in broad daylight, who got followed by a guy for 40 minutes. She eventually found a group of strangers at a park and asked if she could stay with them, telling them this guy had been following her. She had been recording him while he followed her, he could tell he was being recorded, but that didn’t scare him off.

It was crazy. It was scary. It was unfortunately, not a new or isolated incident.

I first heard about this when reading an article online, the woman who got followed had a message for women out there that basically boiled down to the things we hear all the time, be careful, don’t go out alone, blah blah blah. Not that I’m trying to be rude to her, just that isn’t a new message, I’ve been hearing it since what, before puberty?

That message pisses me off.

Why, whyyyyy should I modify my day, my errands, my life, my leisure activities, to avoid being stalked like prey? Why, do we as a society, tell women to hold their keys between their knuckles, take self defence classes, don’t walk anywhere alone, completely modify your life, if you want to be safe. But ya know, not actually safe, just a pretend safe that can be taken away from you in a moment when some ass decides to stalk you during the day, in a populated area, just because he can.

So this was bad enough. I was more mad at the message being thrown out there, the message that to stay safe women have to change a bunch of stuff instead of men keeping their jerk friends from doing stupid things, men policing other men when they notice they may be a threat to women, policing systems cracking down on predatory behaviour more swiftly, the judicial system keeping predators like this in jail once they are caught and awaiting trial and then the penal system keeping them behind bars where maybe they can experience what it is like to be hunted.

But then, oh it got worse. A friend who knows I like to hike alone sent me a link to a video where a woman, on a trail I go to often (I mean, not yet this year, but often in other years) got followed by a creeper of a guy. So she did one of the other “tricks” we are taught, where you stop and pretend to retie a shoelace so the creeper passes you by. A bit farther down the trail he was behind her again, there are no trails branching off from that main trail so he had to have gone in to the bush, hidden, waited until she passed, then started following her again. Super awesome and totally normal behaviour right? So she keeps going, getting more scared, understandably. She tries losing him, it doesn’t work. She calls the cops and is telling them what is going on, where, if I remember correctly, she was told don’t take video or pictures of him as it might set him off. She then saw a woman coming the opposite direction from her so she told her what was happening and asked if she could walk with her. The woman said of course, turned around and they went together. They also came across a lone woman starting off her hike that they warned so she joined them. The three of them got back to the parking lot together, waited, and yup you guessed it, creeper came out, went to his vehicle, pretended to drive away, then eventually did drive away.

We don’t know what would have happened if that woman hadn’t found another person on the trail to pair up with. We also don’t know what would have happened if they didn’t warn the third woman they saw who was headed directly towards the creeper. I mean, we can hazard a good guess, but since none of us can see the future (if you can see the future hit me up, I have lotto questions!) we have to what, breathe a sigh of relief nothing bad happened and move on?

How is this ok?

I had actually planned to use that trail tomorrow. I hurt my knee this past week and wanted something without a high elevation and that trail is perfect for it. But now I’m all, huh, maybe I shouldn’t…which is so wrong! I shouldn’t be stopped from having a nice long “fake” hike, on a trail that is thought of as safer because I won’t run into a bear or cougar, because it is now the hunting ground of some guy.

Oh, and again, with this article, the focus was on women changing their behaviour to stay safe, not on society changing it’s behaviour to keep all citizens safe.

I know not all guys are predators. I am not saying all men are evil. I am saying that something has gone very very wrong that the victim in these situations is being judged for doing something we should all be able to do (go out alone), and we are propagating the myth that the only way for women to be safe is for them to modify their behaviour. Do we, as a society, really not know of any other way to keep women safe, so they can hike, grocery shop, walk to meet friends, etc. alone?

I shouldn’t have to be debating with myself on whether I think it is safe to go on my hike tomorrow or not because of this. I shouldn’t be wishing I had a big mean looking dog I could take with me. I shouldn’t be cursing because my knee is not great right now, which means I can’t run, which means I now think of myself as easier prey. I shouldn’t be thinking that a run in with a bear or cougar is a less dangerous situation for me.

I have no answer for this rant of mine, I mean I do, it involves castration and a lot of time behind bars for crimes that have been shown to be precursors to more violent crimes against others…but that isn’t a popular opinion. So instead I guess I will walk with keys in my hand, and change my route to be harder to follow, and be suspicious of every man out there I pass, because that is what I can do to stay safe…but not “real” safe, just “fake” safe, which is apparently the best I can hope for.

It Has Been A Year

19 Mar

A year ago today I was in a two week isolation period because I was exposed to someone who had come back from the states and didn’t quarantine and my full-time job said “nope, you can’t come here for two weeks”. There was a lot we didn’t know about Covid back then, and while we know quite a bit more now there is still a lot we don’t know. Testing for the general public wasn’t a thing then so the only course of action was to act like everything was normal and potentially spread Covid to others or be extra cautious (some back then called it paranoid) and isolate yourself.

I don’t have horrible memories of those two weeks. I repotted plants, I organized my pantry, I worked on random projects in my place. I couldn’t work on larger ones because I couldn’t go to the stores to buy supplies and there were not as many delivery options back then as there are now.

I remember my InstaCart person couldn’t find eggs or flour, remember all the panic buying? A friend of mine found both those items at her local store and brought them over. That was my first sample of social distancing when with a friend, she handed the items over then we both stepped back and talked from what felt like an unnatural distance. It was a fun convo but I felt like a jerk for not being able to invite her in. Now, if I stand closer than 6 feet with someone I feel uncomfortable and want more space, and I’m perfectly fine not inviting people in to my place.

I also remember back at the beginning of all this being a bit pouty on a Friday night because nothing was open, you couldn’t go anywhere, there was no real fun to be had. Not like I was in a partying phase when this all started, but I did hang out with friends and go do things. This past Friday evening as I was finishing my last load of laundry, while wearing sweats, and wondering what movie to put on Netflix I realized that I don’t even notice that I can’t go out anymore, because it is normal now to be inside on my own when not at work. Going out and doing something, on those rare occasions that happens, always has me feeling a bit uncomfortable, like I shouldn’t be doing whatever it is I am doing. Just to be clear, I am not doing anything that breaks the Health Authority’s rules, it just feels wrong to me, it isn’t actually legally wrong.

I can’t say that I’ve accomplished anything impressive over this past year. I watched on social media as people went through bread making phases, and plant phases, and knitting phases, and realizing how important teachers are phases, oh so many phases. I saw them, dipped a toe in here and there, but didn’t really participate because after that two weeks of isolation in March 2020 I was working full-time, I was classified as an essential worker (I work with seniors) and I was working my regular shifts. I also, for a chunk of last year, worked my part-time job, it transitioned so I could work from home and I liked the change. I was dressed for work from the waist up and in pajamas from the waist down, I could sleep in a bit, I sat wrapped in a blanket with a hot water bottle on my lap (my apartment is a basement suite and always cold), and basically I wished I had a full-time job that could transition to working from home because it was great. Eventually the company I worked for part-time started struggling and I got laid off, so now I am down to one job and oh boy does that hurt the budget, sigh.

I got my vaccine two Tuesday ago and immediately started having side effects. I wasn’t surprised, I react badly to vaccines and a lot of medicines, and my body very much believes in an all or none attitude. Either I seem to get all (or almost all) the side effects from something, or I get none. Wednesday I was sick, I mean not actually sick, just side effects sick, so I stayed home. I went to work Thursday and got sent home because what if my side effects weren’t actual side effects and I had Covid? Friday and Saturday were my normal days off and I still wasn’t feeling great so I rested. Sunday morning I got a text from my manager saying don’t come in, get tested and wait until you have a negative result to come to work. Sigh. So off I went for my sixth Covid test, my poor nose!

I appreciate that now, if I am exposed, or have symptoms, I can go get tested and know within 24 hours if I have Covid or not. It takes away the need for 14 days of isolation, which is good. It does mean having that swab up my nose each time, which isn’t awesome, but it could be worse…least it isn’t a needle!

So many things have changed in one year. Every time new rules are issued I get used to the new normal and go about my daily life and then randomly it hits me how much has changed. Some days I am mad at the changes, or one new change pushes me past my tolerance level for that day (or week) and I get angry and exhausted and even more stressed. I don’t stop following the Health Authority’s rules because I’m not that big of a jerk, but I am angered by them. Then I adapt to the new change, remember that it is not there to restrict my life but to keep as many of us safe as possible, and I once again go about my daily life. I think it’s better to adapt to the changes than be mad at them, isn’t there enough going on right now without holding onto anger? I don’t know about you but I just don’t have time for that.

Cougar Bait?

4 Mar

I was on a trail today that had a bunch of warning signs about cougars. Normally this trail has bears, sometimes deer, not big cats. Me being me, the signs didn’t deter me and I kept going, but the signs did get me wondering…

When on trails that are prone to bears it is recommended to wear a bear bell, or make some sort of noise, because bears will hear the sound and be all “nah, don’t wanna deal with that nonsense today” and avoid us interloping humans.

What about cougars though?

If you have ever been in the house of someone who lives with a cat you’ll know a lot of cat toys have bells, or some sort of mechanism to create noise, so the cat gets interested and plays.

If I were to wear a bear bell and a cougar was nearby would that bell be making me bait? Can’t you just imagine a cougar minding it’s own business then all of a sudden hearing a bell and getting curious? They follow the sound of the bell only to find a human on a trail, a moving human, making sound, like oh say, a cat toy?

By wearing bear bells are we making ourselves in to cat toys for cougars?

Just a thought I am pondering this evening as I am held hostage by the small sleeping floof I live with; I want a drink but he’s sleeping on my foot, guess which one of us is getting what they want? Hint: not me.

I’m not saying mountain lions and cougars are the same, but cats are gonna cat, no?

Baby Plant 2.0

11 Jan

Remember that itty bitty baby plant I sort of killed…well, being that he was destined for a life with a friend of mine I felt duty bound to replace him.

Which is why Baby Plant 2.0, or BP 2.0 as I’ve taken to calling him, has come in to my life.

He is just as tiny, just as fragile, and unfortunately has to deal with me as a caretaker until Tuesday. He’s been with me since Thursday night and I can’t say the time has been stress free.

I paid a death tax of a quarter to the person who I picked up BP and BP 2.0 from, it seemed only fitting, then tucked BP 2.0 in to a Tupperware container for the ride home. I was so proud of myself for figuring out a way to keep him safe, however, I failed to realize that within the container he could tip a bit, which he did, and while he didn’t come out of his little pot he did get jostled.

What is it with me and these teeny tiny plants?!

I got him out of the Tupperware, gave him a small amount of water, and put him somewhere I figured the cat wouldn’t notice him. Last thing I needed was for Striker to eat him!

Today BP 2.0 came with me to work, where he is being guarded by two Groots, and I just hope he makes it till Tuesday, when his actual human comes to get him, and his care is no longer in my hands. I think we’ll all be grateful when his life no longer relies on me!

Plant Murderer

4 Jan

I killed a plant. Not a plant that was fully grown and had enjoyed a long content life. Nope. Not me. I killed a teeny tiny, itty bitty, plant. A baby at the beginning of it’s journey. A little dot of green that I was transporting to it’s new human.

Snuffed out before it even reached the prime of it’s life!

A friend of mine wanted to purchase the above little guy from someone on FB Marketplace, the seller lives only ten minutes from where I live, so I was asked if I could pick up the baby plant for her. Easy right?

I get to the area, park what seemed like a close distance to the apartment building, ended up going through an alley, wandering a bit, let’s say taking the scenic route rather than using the word “lost” ok? Anyways! I eventually ended up at the right spot, we did a contactless purchase, and I walked away with the smallest plant ever.

Took a picture for my friend to provide proof of life, drove home, got out of my vehicle, jostled the little plant pot the smallest amount, had a little ball of dirt fly out of the pot, and uh, killed the baby plant. Seems that when that little ball of dirt flew out it took the plant with it. Oops?

I searched for the little plant but it was dark, and rainy, and it landed on the street, and even with my flashlight I couldn’t spot it. I did however find the little ball of dirt so I picked that up and put it back in the pot. So ya know, I saved the dirt but lost the baby plant.

I’ve decided that the plant chose to jump. It wanted to have adventure, to explore the great outdoors, to live feral rather than the pampered life of an indoor plant! Such a brave little guy!

Now all I have to give my friend tomorrow is a little pot of dirt. sigh. I messaged the seller and told her what happened and on Thursday evening after work I will be going back, to pick up baby plant 2.0, and I will immediately be putting the entire pot in to a tupperware container to keep it safe during transport. No more suicidal / adventurous baby plants on my watch!

Licence Renewal During Plague Times

13 Dec

Once again it is time to renew my driver’s licence, fun times right? πŸ˜‰

The only reason I don’t care for renewing it is because I tend to like my driver’s licence picture and I worry the new one won’t look as good. I know it seems a silly thing to think about but you’re stuck with it for five years, and depending on the person working you may get a chance to retake it or may not. Five years is a long time to be stuck with a bad picture that a lot of people get to see.

This year, thanks to the pandemic, the process has changed a bit. Normally you just show up and expect to lose a large part of your day to waiting in line but now you have to book an appointment in advance, show up no more than ten minutes prior to your appointment, and then be prepared to lose who knows how much of your day to the process.

I got there ten minutes prior to my appointment and was not impressed with the long line of people waiting outside. Normally I don’t care about lines but it was pouring rain and I didn’t want my hair to frizz before getting that all important picture taken. In that moment I very much missed getting to wait inside.

As I stood in line, huddled under my umbrella, thinking there is no way I’ll be inside by my appointment time one of the people mid line got out of line and went with a person who had walked out of the building to a car, her two friends calling words of encouragement to her as she left. Turns out they weren’t in line, they were huddled under the over hang of the building waiting because one of them was going for her road test. Which was great for me because I skipped ahead of where they were standing and got a bit closer to the door.

Then a gentleman came over and said he thought a lot of the people standing under the over hang were not in line and I should check, that most were waiting to take road tests. So I start walking past people and heading to the door and yeah, turns out all the people outside were waiting for road tests, or for the person they came with to finish their road test. They were standing where the arrows indicated to stand for the line to go inside but that is because it was the only area protected from the rain. Sigh. So I stood in a line, that wasn’t a line, when I didn’t need to. Thank goodness for that guy letting me know!

I get inside, tell the guy working at the information desk, which is of course surrounded by plexiglass, making him look like he is in a hamster ball, why I am there, he gives me a ticket with a number on it and directs me to the left. Inside the building, not including staff, there were four customers, myself included, in this big space. Chairs were blocked off so you could only sit in every third chair, hand sanitizing stations were placed in multiple locations, and of course, plexiglass everywhere. Oh, and masks, masks on everyone. I think of all the errands I have run during the pandemic this was the safest building I’ve been in.

This was the first time renewing my licence since my eye surgery so I got an eye test done, I was handed the disinfecting wipe so I could clean it myself, and was also the one to get the machine into position. Which I was fine with, I trust me more than a stranger, even if she was perfectly nice and would probably have sanitized everything just fine. I answered questions, signed stuff, paid $75 (ouch!), and was done in I dunno, ten minutes maybe?

A lot of jokes are made about long lines and waiting times for places like this but for right now, those lines and wait times seem to be a thing of the past. I gotta say, I think making an appointment is a way better system than just showing up and hoping it isn’t busy.

I remember the last time I renewed my licence, I forgot I didn’t have photo ID when I went to fly a week later, my new licence hadn’t shown up in the mail yet so all I had was that temporary paper they give you. So there I was, with the cat, at the airport, and the only card I had on me with a photo was my Costco card. That was an interesting checking in experience…

December Has Arrived!

1 Dec

Finally! December is here! It feels like it has been the longest and the shortest year all at once. Part of me is all “How in the world is it already December 1st?” while the other part is screaming “How the hell is this year not over yet? Who is responsible for this?”

So ya know, a tad conflicted about how time is passing, but otherwise totally normal over here. Yup, super normal. πŸ˜‰

We did some Christmas stuff at work today, can’t tell what, it’s a secret! What I can share is the adorably dorky head piece I got to wear, and continued wearing long after all others had taken off their Christmas accessories.

Not the best lighting but whatcha gonna do? Well, I suppose use a filter but meh, can’t be bothered. I know, I know, such a lazy blogger am I!

I am that person who loves wearing silly things on their head for holidays. Canada Day? You can bet I have the Canadian flag on a headband. St. Patrick’s Day? Four leaf clovers of course! Easter? I make the cutest bunny. I could keep going but I’m sure you get the picture. So when I was offered the Christmas bow for the rest of the month I definitely said yes! I wore it for a chunk of the day, but did eventually have to take it off because weirdly enough these things tend to be sized for a child’s head and my head is not the size of a child’s head. sigh. The hardships we must endure to wear silly things on our head.

My Christmas activity for today was watching The Christmas Chronicles Part 2 when I got home. Have you seen it yet? Part 1 came out in 2018 and it only took them 2 years to bring out a sequel, which meant they could use the same actors and not have it look strange.

It was a classic Christmas story of a villain who isn’t really all that bad trying to ruin Christmas because their feelings are hurt and Santa, with the help of some kids, beating the villain while teaching a life lesson to the children, and the villain. We did almost lose Dasher to a fight with a Yule cat, but I refuse to discuss that, too traumatic. πŸ˜‰

We did get this fun little musical number randomly in the middle…

I thought to start my month with a new Christmas movie, of course I’ll watch a bunch of the classics, but it’s good to bring some change in to the season, right? Sure, change by way of a new Christmas movie, that has some of the same characters as the first part from two years ago, isn’t exactly creating waves of shock in my world, but there are a lot of big changes happening around me, so I decided to make a little change. One guaranteed to work out…or as close to a guarantee as you can get with a sequel! And hey, whatta know, it worked out!

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