Day of rest

So now I'm sick again. My head is all stuffed up, and only one nostril is working (pleasant mental picture, I know). I knew this was coming. After I experience a stressful period of time (see: the month of April), my body rebels and I get sick. Hopefully this will not last long, because I hate taking sick time from work.

So today I took it easy and watched two movies: Match Point and Good Night, and Good Luck. Match Point was enjoyable, particularly the London setting. Good Night, and Good Luck was too much of a thinking movie for me to get into. When I first started to watch it, I fell asleep. On my second try, I had to turn the subtitles on, because I couldn't follow the dialogue. Perhaps it was the brain-fuzzying decongestants I had ingested.

I also made brownies and ate half the pan. Mmm, chocolate.

And now, I'm going to try to sleep. I've already watch Grey's Anatomy, and it was so-so. I may not need to watch it again at 11:00. Besides, I haven't managed to fall asleep before 1:00 a.m. in over a week. Perhaps tonight will be my lucky night.

The apartment therapy continues...

Note: my computer ate my first attempt at this post. Actually, it froze just as I was going to hit the "Publish" button. Dammit.

Today I made the rounds of the local furniture stores, trying to find some new end tables for my living room area. I couldn't find anything that I liked, which is both unfortunate and frustrating.

Then I headed out to one of my favourite stores: Room 2 Remember. It has all sorts of cool decorating stuff. I entered the store on the heels of two Debbie Travis/Sarah Richardson wannabes (yes, I watch way too much HGTV). They veered right to the baby section. Not wanting the be nipping at their heels, I veered left to the outdoors/garden section.

Just as I was starting to get my bearings, out of the corner of my eye I could see one of the ladies making a beeline for my personal space. Apparently she wanted to look at one of the floormats I was standing in front of. Now, there's not a lot of space in this particular section of the store. There's room for one person to browse comfortably. Maybe two if you know each other really well. This did not seem to deter the designing diva, and she was still striding purposefully in my direction.

I was determined to stand my ground. After all, I was there first, and I wasn't done looking. She would have to wait.

Sadly, diva won. She stepped right into the outdoors/garden section and picked up the rug. I had to do a quick step/hop to avoid a collision, nearly knocking over a display in the process. I have her my best supremely annoyed "you invaded my personal box and I hate you" look and went to look at some picture frames. I don't think she even noticed I was there.

I did manage to buy three picture frames today. I plan to hang them on the wall in my dining room area. I'm having a little trouble figuring out what to put in the frames. I tried printing off some some London/Paris pictures, but they don't seem to look right together at all. This is going to be more challenging than I initially anticipated. Where's the magic decorating wand when you need it?

Guilty pleasure

Sister Act 2: Back in the Habit.

It was on tv tonight. It's one of those movies that once I start watching, I have to see the end. It's all about the music.

If you haven't seen it, read about the plot here. Seriously, when those kids start to sing, I get goosebumps. I don't care how cheesy it is, the music rocks. I find the choir performances extremely powerful. Every time I watch the movie, I feel this incredible joy when I hear the music. I don't know what it is, but I can't help it. This movie makes me happy. Same thing with the first Sister Act movie.

Yeah, I'm weird. I know.

Now I'm off to dig out my Sister Act 2 cd.

One ear at a time

Huzzah for endings of Earfests.

Next time I think about willingly participating in such foolishness, hit me on the head with something. Thirteen trips up the river this month instead of the usual five. Four nights at the Best Western in Woodstock. Dozens of meals away from home. My car is littered with empty Pepsi cans and discarded chocolate chip chewy granola bar wrappers (my breakfast and snack of choice). I'm way overtired. It all takes its toll, and I'm very glad to be done.

In other news, my apartment therapy has been stalled slightly, but I hope to pick it up again this weekend. Perhaps another shopping trip is in order. I find myself drawn to this apartment and the blues and greens within. During one sleepless night this week, I drew pictures of my apartment in my head. I have a general idea of what I would like to do, and I hope I can pull it all together and make it look good.

Also, a general notice: I will be coming home next weekend, in anticipation of taking in Charlottetown Rural's "Cinderella". How on earth are they going to make a plain yellow pumpkin become a golden carriage on stage?

Let it rain

My apartment was pretty warm this evening, so I decided to go for a run to cool off. The skies were cloudy, and it was a little bit misty, so I thought running would be quite refreshing. I dressed lightly, just a tshirt and pants, so I wouldn't get overheated. I was zipping along quite nicely. My only obstacle was passing a lady and her dog while running uphill (try it- it's not fun).

When it started to rain a bit more steadily, I was doing okay. After all, I was a little warm from running uphill, so the wetness was soothing. The pitter patter of the raindrops was also quite enjoyable.

Then it started to really rain. As in, "the outdoors is a giant shower" rain. This is where it got tricky, because my glasses were covered in droplets, and my clothes were seriously wet. Still, I kept plodding away, mostly because I was several blocks away from my building.

Then the monsoon arrived. Waterfalls of rain accompanied by large gusts of wind. The rain was bouncing off the pavement. My sneakers were squishy. My glasses were blinded by the water. It wasn't fun anymore. I needed shelter. And a towel.

Finally, I arrived at my building and was able to exchange my dripping running gear for some dry, comfy clothes. And I watched Gilmore Girls. And it was good.

You can see the mornin', but I can see the light

Buy fresh flowers. Done and done. These are my snapdragons. I bought them today during my shopping extravaganza. Reading this new book and trying to "cure" my apartment has apparently given me permission to spend money like a madwoman. In addition to the pretty flowers, I also bought some pretty picture frames, summer running clothes, organizing totes, and DQ onion rings.

Incidentally, I am having a very good hair day today. Not just good, but very good.

I also had an "a-ha!" moment this morning and figured out what colours I like best. They're sort of hard to describe, but one is a grey-blue, and the other is a green with some yellow in it. Can you tell I'm not good at colours? I would hate to see me try to name new crayon colours. If I can find a nice neutral colour that goes with the blue and green to go on my walls, I'll be all set. My problem is that I want everything done Right Now. I have to remind myself that good things take time.

Doesn't my apartment look healthier already?

The Rocket and the Cure

Today I went to see The Rocket. It's the story of Maurice Richard's rise to fame with the Montreal Canadiens. I was quite excited about this movie, because it's Canadian and it appears to be in wide release this weekend across the country. This seems to be a rare feat for home-grown cinema. For that fact alone, I encourage everyone to go see it. Go quickly, because judging from the attendance at the theatre this afternoon (7 people), it might not be playing for long.

The movie is filmed in both official languages, which I think is fantastic. The Quebec version that was released earlier has French subtitles, and the version I saw had English subtitles. I enjoyed the retro feeling of the film, especially during the hockey game sequences. While watching the hockey action sequences, I can't help but wonder why helmets weren't introduced to the NHL sooner. Surely the man must have had some sort of brain damage from all the head injuries he suffered.

After the movie, I went to Chapters and bought Apartment Therapy: the eight-step home cure. Apparently, this book is going to change my life in a profound way and make me like my apartment. I've already been attempting to declutter and spruce up my apartment, but I'm hoping this will give me a little more direction. My assignment this week:

1. make a list of apartment repairs
2. vacuum and mop floors
3. remove one item from my apartment
4. buy fresh flowers
5. sit for 10 minutes in a part of the apartment that I never sit in
6. look into earth-friendly cleaning products.

I've already completed a quiz to get me started, and I learned that this is what my apartment would say to me if it could talk:

I'm empty and temporary. When are you going to make things more permanent?

Yikes.

I've been looking ahead to the coming weeks, and things even more little touchy-feely. Hey, at this point, I'll try anything. Wish me luck.

Attempted cures for melancholy

1. Watching Hugh Jackman in Kate and Leopold.
2. Reading emails from friends.
3. Napping.
4. Retail therapy.
5. Cleaning out my front closet.
6. Twirling around my apartment in my pretty skirt.
7. Playoff hockey.
8. Watching a syndicated episode of Alias (the one where Marshall goes into the field for the first time).
9. Copious quantities of Pepsi.

Dammit

Dammit is my new favourite word.

It's a very effective word, used to express my frustration and high level of upsetness.

e.g. Dammit. I'm stressed.

I'm not a big fan of the swear word. I can't even bring myself to type a really bad swear word. I don't really have a problem with people who do swear (in moderation), in fact I think a well-placed swear word can be quite effective. It's just not my thing. Until I rediscovered dammit.

Dammit, it was a not a good day today.

Double dammit.

What not to wear. Ever.

I was flicking past the Shopping Channel tonight, hoping to catch The Coin Show, when instead I came across this abomination. A whole hour of utterly unflattering attire. I really don't think Clinton and Stacy would approve of this. Now, I know I don't have the best fashion sense in the world, but even I know that these tops are not a good thing. At all. How can they sell these outfits to people in good conscience? How can they make people model them? It makes me really really sad. I guess everyone is entitled to their own opinion re: fashion, but I give this a big miss.

Watch Alias.

So this is it. You've seen the promos. The beginning of the end starts tonight. If you've drifted away from our favourite super spy, come on back. It's going to rock.

Slow news day

Did you know that Seth MacFarlane, creator of Family Guy, was on the Gilmore Girls? He was in the episode where Lorelai graduates from college. He played one of her classmates. He hurled sarcastic insults galore. Go figure.

Another Alias flashback: Season 3- "Resurrection". The one where Lauren dies. About time. But does anyone really die on Alias?

One more sleep people! Set your VCR's/PVR's/Tivo's!

Death by chocolate

I decided to mark the end of Lent with a notable increase in my chocolate intake.

Saturday was the long-awaited celebration of Rosey's birthday. It was a lovely gathering of friends at Rosey's house. Of course, the festivities would not be complete without Rosey's mom's birthday cake. Three layers of sumptuous chocolate cake with whipped cream in between the layers, topped off with thick chocolate fudge icing. Eating a whole piece is quite a challenge. For me, the secret to success lies in finding a good balance between cake and ice cream consumption. I managed to finish a whole piece. And it was good. Very very good.

On Sunday, the Easter Bunny visited our house, bringing a wide assortment of chocolate treats. Chocolate bars, mini eggs, and Lindt bunnies were all on the breakfast menu. Our aunt and uncle came over for Easter dinner, and we had a delectable baked chocolate pudding for dessert. My mom used to make it all the time when we were little. It has brownie/cake on top with gooey chocolate sauce on the bottom. You eat it with whipped cream or ice cream. Divine.

Today, I got together with Rosey for a walk and talk adventure. We went to Tim's afterwards for some hot chocolate to thaw our bodies out from the frigid cold. I also had a lovely chocolate danish- my first ever danish. I singed my taste buds from my hot chocolate, but the danish was still very yummy.

And now, I'm tucked away back in my apartment, nibbling away at the rest of my treats, well-rested and ready for another two weeks of Ear Festing. Chocolate is good for the soul.

P.S. - more Alias highlights: Season 4's "Tuesday", in which Marshall rescues Sydney from being buried underground. Then he goes on a mission and does a mean Jack Bristow impression to get information from a suspect. Then he scoops out a dead guy's eyeball.

And one more for the road: Season 2's "Phase One", aka "the one where they take down SD-6". Need I say more? For some, this is where the show peaked and started its slow decline. For me, it was pure awesomenicity.

Friday's alright for fainting

So, I'm sure you've heard stories of people fainting in church on Good Friday during the reading of the Passion. You have to stand still for a long time, it's usually warm in the church, and your blood sugar is probably low because you're fasting between meals. Prime conditions for fainting.

When I was in junior high, a guy in my class fainted in church on Good Friday. He was an altar server at the time, too, so everyone saw it happen. My sister has taken a dive as well, not on Good Friday, but on Palm Sunday. I've seen lots of older people collapse as well. Sometimes, they even have to ask for a doctor in the church to help revive the person.

My mom told me once that if you stand totally still during the reading of the Passion, God will bring a soul from hell into heaven. I think I was around eight at the time. Now, this could be true, but it also could have been the words of a mother desperate to keep her squirmy child still. Ever since that time, I have always tried to stand really really still when the Passion is read, so I could save someone's soul. Who wouldn't want to save a soul?

By the way, if it's not true, I don't want to know.

So there I was, standing in the middle of the church while the Passion was being read. I was trying really hard to save a soul. And then, all of a sudden, my arms got all tingly, and my head got fuzzy, and my ears started to ring. I felt detached from reality. I broke out into a cool, clammy sweat. Even my thumbs were sweating. This is it, I thought. I'm either dying or fainting. So I broke my "no moving" rule and sat down. Then I put my head between my legs. Thankfully, I didn't lose consciousness, but it was pretty close.

Once I felt better, my sister drove me home. I felt best not to stay for the rest of church. After the Passion is read, there's a whole lot of standing and kneeling that would have been tough to handle. I spent the rest of the day not laying low and not exerting myself.

So, since I missed posting yesterday (let's just say it's tough to share computer time with siblings), today's Alias highlight is a two-part episode from the first season. In "The Box", Sydney is about to quit the CIA and SD-6 when McKenas Cole (played by Quentin Tarantino) takes over SD-6. Sloane gets tortured (and Jack breaks off his finger!), Vaughn sneaks into SD-6 to help Syd, and we get to see some great Spy Daddy action. Oh, and Sydney and Cole have a kick-butt action scene in the vault. Nice stuff.

Clicky clicky.

Last night I went to a fundraising concert featuring Measha Brueggergosman. She has an amazing voice, and she is absolutely radiant on stage.

Titanic Two? I found this link on one of the blogs I check regularly, and it made me pee my pants laughing.

So there's this MLA from New Brunswick named "Tanker" who decided to leave the PC caucus because he wasn't getting what he wanted from the Premier. This put the reigning Tories in a minority goverment. Then they made him Speaker, effectively neutralizing his ability to topple the government, but he got a bigger office and more money. And now, he's back in the party! And I thought PEI politics was messed up. People are stupid.

And finally, today's Alias episode of the day: Season Two's The Telling, where we learn that Francie doesn't like coffee ice cream. Oh yeah, and then Evil Francie and Sydney battle to the death, and Sydney wakes up find out that two years have passed. One of the best season finales I've ever watched.

Sydney Bristow, super spy, works for the CIA, not the FBI

To pump everyone up for the return of "Alias", I thought I would spend some time listing my favourite episodes from the show. I'll try and post one a day until next Wednesday, when Syd and the gang return to the airwaves. Who decided to put it up against my "Amazing Race"? I am most seriously displeased. This is where the PVR comes in handy. I'm returning it soon, I swear.

Anyway, back to our favourite super spy...

In no particular order...

Season 1: Episode 1 "Truth be Told" In the show's stellar first episode, agent Sydney Bristow's world is turned upside down when she discovers that the people behind SD-6 are actually the bad guys. Her fiance Danny is killed. She finds out her dad, the equally excellent yet parentally-challenged super spy Jack Bristow, also works for SD-6. Red wig! The fight in the parking garage where Syd flicks the car antenna into the bad guy's face!

I actually did not watch the first season of "Alias" when it first aired. I was remaining faithful to "The X-Files" as it slowly limped towards extinction. I remember being skeptical about the show's premise. A girl spy? Double agent? Whatever.

Little did I know.

Score one for the lazy people

One of the benefits of laziness/procrastination is the opportunity for unexpected scientific discoveries.

Example: lately the inside of my fridge has developed a funky, foul odour, indicating that something already dead is decomposing even further. Every time I opened the fridge door, I was assaulted by nasty, noxious fumes. Any normal person would have thrown away the offending item ASAP. I chose to leave said item to its own devices. Why? Because taking it out of the fridge would expose me further to the smell, and then I would have to take it all the way down to the garbage shed, and that's at least a 90 second trek. Who needs that?

So, I let the smelly food item fester. Gradually, over the past week, the stench seemed to grow. I started planning what I needed when I opened the fridge, so I could get in and out as quickly as possible. I avoided refrigerated foods and consumed more canned and boxed goods.

Finally, I decided that today would be the day. Today, I would clean out the fridge. However, when I opened the door, I discovered that the smell had disappeared!! It's gone! By some sort of amazing scientifical process the smelly food has stopped producing yucky gas products. And I never would have discovered this if I had thrown the bad food out when it first started to stink. I feel like the guy who discovered penicillin.

And now that the fridge smells okay again, it will probably be a few more days before I clean it.

"That's where I'm a Viking!"

In anticipation of making it to the celebrity judging round of my Canadian Idol audition, I took the day off work today. As you now know, my perception of my vocal prowess was highly overrated, and some kind Idol producer decided not to subject Farley, Jake, Sass, and Zach to my singing.

The upside of all this is that I got to spend most of the day catching up on some sleep. Mmm, sleep. Is there anything more glorious than gradually drifting awake without the aid of an alarm? Or how about spending the entire morning in bed, simply because you can. Let us not forget the extreme pleasure of the lazy afternoon siesta.

Tomorrow is Day 5 of the Earfest. Bring it on.

What a rush

The first part of CBC's Canada Russia '72 aired this evening. It was filmed in Fredericton and Saint John. I remember stumbling across an outdoor location shoot downtown last spring, so it's neat to see it all come together. Watching hockey never fails to bring out my inner Canadian.

I also can't help but notice the excellent musical backdrop, featuring classic Canadian songs, like "No Sugar Tonight", "Signs", and "Oh What a Feeling". One would almost say that these songs rock. One could also, by association, say that Canada rocks. Aren't I clever? Say, you know what would be a really good idea? Let's make a show with all these songs in it. What's that? We need a plot? How about a train trip across Canada. Oh, and let's throw an aging rocker and an up-and-coming artist together and watch their worlds collide. That sounds riveting. You know what else is good? Rhyming. People will eat it up with a spoon.

It's a good thing I'm not a bitter, sarcastic, hypercritical person.

Mission accomplished

Warning: another excessively long post ahead. This is what happens when I actually do stuff.

With visions of Canadian Idol stardom dancing in my head, I arrived at the Mic Mac Mall bright and early at 8:30. Immediately upon entering the mall, I had the good fortune of meeting up with a Paula, a girl from Souris attending uni at St. Mary's. We were both alone at the audition, so we decided to be friends.

We were quickly directed into the registration area. There were about 200 people in line in front of me. Just seeing the Canadian Idol logos everywhere made me nervous and excited.

There was a very diverse bunch of people there. Of course there were the people drawing attention to themselves, like the girls with pink and brown army pants, and the girl with the blue face. Then you had the wide-eyed younguns looking nervous and self-conscious. Then there were serious auditioners, like the self-assured girl who was flawlessly attired and accessorized, down to the yellow flower in her hair. Or there was the quietly confident guy with an eye-catching red necktie, toting his guitar through the lineup. And of course there were the normies, like me. Just there to have fun, and maybe have someone tell you that you sing well.

The lady checking me in nearly gave me a heart attack when, after looking at my driver's license, she told me I was too old to audition. "But I'm 28 right now," I told her. "Birthday math is hard," she said. Thankfully, after conferring with her supervisor, I was given my number (!), two pins, and a coupon for a free iTunes song.

I was then herded into another area, where I attempted to fix my number (16758) to my sweater. While I was doing this, we were moved to yet another location. In the kafuffle, I lost one of my pins. That was an omen right there. I was missing a pin. How could I attach my number properly with only one pin?

While I was wandering like a lost sheep throughout the audition area, looking for a spare pin, I met up with Paula again (we had become separated during registration). We decided to watch the proceedings from a distance, since there were so many people milling about. Plus, with 200 people in front of us, there was no way we were auditioning any time soon.

We wandering through the mall, on a mission to find pins and water. Once successful, we headed back to wait. We waited. I listened to my music. We waited. I warmed up my voice. We waited. I talked to a girl from Bedford. We waited. I saw Ben Mulroney multiple times. We waited. I avoided tv cameras. We waited.

At last, several hours later, my number was called. As I got in line, I recognized several familiar faces from the registration lineup. Like the girl with the yellow flower. And the red tie guy. Yellow flower girl was picked out of the lineup to be interviewed on camera. As she returned to her place in line, I quickly realized that she was likely to be in my audition group. Uh oh. Guess who else was in my group? That's right, red tie guy.

Our five-member audition group was led into the holding area. Besides myself, yellow flower girl and red tie guy, there were two other youngish girls. One had tried out two times previously, and the other was a first-timer, and very nervous. At this point, my nerves were also making an appearance, and I was trembling slightly. I'm trembling now just remembering it. Red tie guy confided that he was not nervous, because he was in a band and performed all the time. Great. My chances were getting slimmer by the second. My stomach was getting queasy.

After a seemingly inordinate amount of time, we proceeded to the audition trailer. There, we were greeted by two producers, one a cool-looking fellow with trendy glasses, and the other a non-verbal woman who kept her head down the entire time. There was also a camera.

One by one, we were called forward to stand on the X and sing a verse and a chorus of one song. First up was the first-timer. She did really well, a little nervous, but she had a lovely voice. Next was red tie guy. Yeah. He was really good. Really really good. Powerful and unique. Then it was my turn.

By this time, I was literally shaking. I took a few deep breaths, introduced my song (Holly Cole's I Can See Clearly Now) and began to sing. All my thoughts of performing and eye contact flew out of my head. It took all of my energy to focus on getting through the song without my voice stopping on me. I vaguely remember seeing the producer guy nodding his head a couple of times. Near the end of the song, I could feel my extremities getting numb, and my voice started to make some awful garbly sounds. When I had finished, the producer asked me if it was my own arrangement or someone else's, because it was a lot slower than the original. I told him it was Holly Cole's version. Then I pressed myself back against the wall and tried to make myself disappear.

Next up was the three-timer. She started off with a Christmas song. The producer stopped her and asked her to sing a pop song. Then he stopped her again. Then it was yellow flower girl's turn. She was also very very good. She sang Killing Me Softly. Lovely, strong, warm voice.

Then came the moment of truth. No surprises here. Red tie guy and yellow flower girl got to stay and sing another song, while the rest of us were out. And just like that, my five hour Canadian Idol adventure was over.

I can't say I was truly upset at time. Naturally, there was some disappointment, but I am also very happy that I went through with the whole thing. For the rest of the day, my mind started to mull things over and relive the experience repeatedly. I have come to the conclusion that rejection is very hard, especially for a person like me who thrives on pleasing people. Even if I was expecting it, it may take a while for me to get over this experience. I couldn't even listen to music on the way home. However, I am certain that this feeling will eventually pass, leaving me with fond memories of my attempt at reality tv fame. And at least I have my number, which is all I wanted in the first place.

On the road again

Another hotel room, another mobile blog update. This evening, T/X and I are at the Park Place Ramada in Dartmouth, which seems to be overrun with gaggles of stampeding children.
Tomorrow, I am taking the plunge and trying out for Canadian Idol. It's time to take my place in reality tv history. If I can't be on The Amazing Race, this the next best thing. This week, in preparation for my big moment, I made a recording of myself singing. I then discovered that I don't sing in tune. This may adversely affect my chances of making it to the celebrity judges, however, I remain determined to get my sticker with the CI logo and my very own number on it.
Hopefully, the audition won't take too long and I can spend the rest of my time here shopping. Maybe I'll even manage to bring my purchases home with me.

Live from Woodstock

Okay, so let's try this mobile blogging thing. I'm sitting in the surprisingly busy lobby of my hotel, methodically tapping away at the screen of my Palm T/X (I really need a name for it. Palm T/X is so formal.). I've already been for a run, eaten supper, been on a tour of the town, and visited the Wal-mart. What do people do here? I've also tried to send some email, but this web browser is reluctant to let me type anything in an email message. I was also most seriously displeased to find that there is no W network channel here, so no suppertime Gilmore Girls. Boo-urns to that! Oh well, at least Lost is on tonight. Plus, I've been told there's a bakery in town that has marvelous cinnamon rolls on Thursdays. I must try to find it. How many bakeries can one town have? TTFN, my dear readers.

Then they sent me up the river

Today was the first day of "Lynda's Woodstock Earfest", aka "Lynda spends copious quantities of time working in Woodstock". It went rather well, although I was a wee bit overtired from watching the finale of "Project Runway" last night.

Some of you may remember the November incarnation of my Woodstock Earfest, which left me exhausted, burnt out, and cranky. I am determined to come out of the April Earfest with my sanity intact, so I am spending a few nights in a hotel. This cuts down the amount of driving I have to do. This week, I will be sleeping in a hotel on Wednesday and Thursday. On Friday I drive to Halifax, and I'm spending the night in another hotel. This is after spending last Friday and Saturday nights in a hotel.

I miss my bed already.

Wardrobe crisis resolution

So I know you're all dying to know how I solved my "I need something to wear to a fancy party" problem. You may remember that I packed a somewhat dressy backup outfit of new black dress pants and v-neck top/striped shirt combo in my bag. My intent was to canvas the Eaton Centre for suitable attire.

I was aided in my quest by two audio's from N.B., one who was two years ahead of me at school and one who I just met at the airport on Friday. Together we picked out a lovely navy blue skirt covered with very pretty sequin-type dodads at R.W. and Co.. Then we found a pinky-purple v-necked top with 3/4 length sleeves at Mexx. It was on sale. Then I bought shoes. With heels. And I bought a necklace. I had also brought a purple camisole with me to wear under a top.

So I did go to event after all. There was a fair amount of wobbly walking involved, but I managed, and I did end up looking sort of good.

So glad to be back

So there was an explosion at a Tim's in Toronto today.

I actually walked by the same Tim Horton's at approximately 11:15 a.m. today. I left for the airport at 12:00 p.m. The explosion happened at 1:00 p.m. They apparently evacuated the city block. And here I was wishing I had a few more hours in Toronto to do some shopping.

More tales from the T-dot to come...

Tales from the T-dot

Signs you are staying in a fancy hotel:

1. There is a line of dashing valets clad in red jackets stationed at the hotel entrance.

2. While waiting to check in, you are served a complimentary glass of nonalcoholic fruit punch.

3. The minibar has gourmet nuts.

4. The bed has a luxurious down comforter and four plump feather-filled pillows.

5. Ice is delivered to your door. The first bucket is free. Subsequent buckets cost $3.00.

6. The bathroom has replenishing orange blossom shampoo with provitamin B5.

7. The shower has a removable showerhead with several water flow settings.

8. Breakfast costs $28.60.

9. The closet light comes on automatically when you open the door.

10. There are three phones in your room: one on the desk, one at the bedside table, and one in the bathroom. A phone call costs $1.50.

11. There's a bathrobe in the closet. And slippers.

Me likey free trips.

"George is her McDreamy."

Spoiler warning for those of you who didn't watch this week's Grey's Anatomy yet. Run away. Come back after you've seen it.









Seriously. I heart this show so much.

I can't even begin to comment on the wonderfulness of tonight's Grey's. There was something for everyone in this episode. Let's set aside the fact that my George sorta blatantly disregarded patient confidentiality to spread the word about Meredith's sister. Let's also disregard the fact that the "sweater" Meredith was knitting initially started out as a skinny scarf and gradually morphed into a much wider one. And the shots of her knitting at the vet's office were poorly edited. And I know that Izzie was using big needles and thick yarn, but I still don't think she could have made that sweater in one day.

Anyway, back to the good stuff galore. Competitive!Cristina finally got George to move out of the apartment! I really was enjoying the George/Burke "best friends forever" vibe, but I agree that it was time for him to get his own place.

Izzie likes Denny. Let's not even go there. I like him, too, but I'm not his doctor. She is way beyond crossing the line with this. And she made him a sweater? Isn't that the proverbial "kiss of death" for a relationship?

Alex defends his "I tell the truth" bedside manner. Good for him! I'm glad to see him stand up for himself. Plus, I was totally bawling when the mom told the daughter about her cancer. Total lack of sleep here, people. Yeah, that's it. Lack of sleep.

Meredith has a sister? Two sisters? Can her life possible get any more complicated? Okay, I will cut her some slack now. She loses McDreamy, her mom has Alzheimer's, and now she has sisters she never knew about. Perhaps if she actually ate something, she would feel better.

Bailey is a mom. Very emotional, which I guess is to be expected with all the hormones. However, I do love her tough/cranky/blunt/bossy personality, so I hope it reappears soon. She's softening around the edges.

And poor George. How does he ever get any work done at the hospital? He's always running around taking care of everyone. And he does look/act like Thatcher Grey. And how freaking good was the scene where he described Meredith to her dad? Seriously. And I was totally totally warming to Callie Torres, especially after her "I like George a lot" soliloquy, but- she lives in the hospital?!!? Like, in the hospital? Is that not creepy and sad? And borrowed from ER (although I suppose it's only fair, since ER borrowed from Grey's with its Neela/Ray "unrequited love for a roommate" storyline).

And do have to say that I really enjoy the gradual unraveling of the Richard/Ellis/Thatcher backstory. It could be a whole series by itself. So intriguing. I wonder if the writers had that in mind when initially conceiving those characters.

Okay, I think I've covered everything. Now I'm going to watch it again at 11:00.