Just say NO! to Negativity

What a day. I'm trying to make my workplace a more positive place, but The Grumbler showed up today and had a good grumble at me and about me. Having to deal with The Grumbler while every cell in my body is screaming in pain and I have just finished dealing with two l ots of grumbly 12 and 13 years old was just TOO MUCH. I went off to have a break, watching the sailboats in the beautiful bay*-- where a co-worker found me barely able to hold back tears... how embarassing. Anyway, the rest of the day went really well with nice people visiting the museum and stopping to chat. And at least now I have a better idea of how to deal with The Grumbler.

Now all I need is enough Tylenol 3 to dull the pain, a chef to whip up something for me to eat and a hug. One out of three ain't bad I guess.....(I'm refering to the Tylenol here.) So I'll take this aching body off to bed and hope that tomorrow will be a bit more cheerful.

Here's sending you some SUNSHINE!

*Definition of graceful: the curve of a white sail against the brilliant blue of lake and sky.

A Chocolate Easter Bunny is a Balanced Meal

I'm so tired right now, and it's only 5 in the afternoon. If I can't have my nap sometimes.....This is going to be a quick post. My body just crashed this weekend and it's having a hard time getting up and running again. And this is going to be a very busy week at work, too!

A chocolate Easter Bunny is a well-rounded meal. It is made out of chocolate, which ultimately comes from beans, which are vegetables. It also includes dairy. And since it is a bunny, it includes lots of protein. So a chocolate Easter bunny is a well-rounded meal.

I was going to blog about the ants in my bathroom and the city doing sewer construction outside my window at 7 in the morning, but I'm just too tired right now. Maybe later.

A Quick Update and a Quick Rant

Exciting News! Miss Muggs is outside as I write.... of her own accord! I opened the door to get some stuff off the balcony (ground level, remember!) and she came up to the screen door and started meowing. So I put her harness on and let her out. It's been raining all day and everything is wet, but she is as happy as a clam out there. She has also discovered that even with her rope on she can make it 5 feet up the big tree. And of course, I'm happy about this because if Muggs gets her energey out OUTSIDE then she hopefully won't be bouncing around INSIDE this snug little apartment.

I went home for a quick visit with my folks on the farm Friday and was immediately put to work. Not that I minded at all. My mom's gardens were full of daffodils and the lawn was full of weeds... no, I mean violets! But the most exciting aspect of my visit-- my mom had another edition of Threads! Which, of course, I kidnapped (with permission) and brought back to my home with me. I was looking forward to savouring it and snuggled into bed to pore over it--and it kept me awake until late into the night because it gave me IDEAS. One of these days I might just sew up one of my designs and enter it in their design competition...

Here's a rant for today. Thursday I'm driving home from work, going south on Dundurn. There's a four-way stop which really slows down the traffic so it is literally stop-and-go for a block or more. And there's this chick in a huge, honking white SUV pulling out of the LCBO parking lot on the other side of the street. She pulls right out to cut in right in front of me, but since the traffic isn't moving she's just sitting there stopped, blocking the on-coming traffic. So, me being nice and all, I actually let her in. And then do you know what she does????? She pulls over to the curb and parks!!!!!! That woman fired up her big, honking, gas-guzzler SUV to drive across the street! I couldn't believe it!!!! Like Hamilton needs any more pollution!!!

Anyway, I guess that's enough rant. I should go check up on the little Miss Muggs and make sure she hasn't managed to tangle herself up.

Muggs the Cat

This is Muggs, the little kitty that I've been telling you so much about. Her deceptively charming appearance disguises lethal claws, sharp, pointy teeth and a meow that can be positively irritating. However, she is full of 'love' for her 'mommy': she sleeps beside my pillow at night and comes running to greet me when I come home from work. Hard to believe that this August we'll have been together for two years....I have the scratches to prove it! (She'll be 2 years old in May.)

Post-Exam Angst

That wonderfully horrible post-exam angst has set in. Now that I've finished my final exam I don't know what to do with myself. I want to paint, but my arms are too sore right now. It's late (after 11), so there' s no one around to chat with. The all-consuming drive to cram every fact of 500 years of Roman history into my mortal, finite brain is gone, leaving my brain a mushy porridge of names, dates, facts....

Although never the right facts, somehow. That exam was brutal. This particular prof is known, I understand, for asking obscure questions on tests. And as the semester goes on, the questions get harder and more obscure. To the point where, out of 40 questions or so, I was only certain on about 3 or 4, iffy on a dozen more and then we're getting into the guessing territory after that. Things like who was so-and-so's half brother. We're talking about 500 years of history, countless emperors, generals, prefects, tribunes, consuls, usurpers and "other people." To quote my friend Ta, "GAHHHHH." Oh well, I'm not the only one who struggled with that part of the exam, I know. Still, it's sad to kiss that "A" I've been striving for good-bye. An exam like that does not test one's comprehension and understanding, only one's ability to memorize minutiae. Hopefully it's not as bad as I think and my other marks are good enough that I can get an A average. On the bright side, there are still three more years to get As.

I, for one, believe in "big picture" learning. I think it is more important to understand the ideas and concept, the causes and effects than to know that this Roman woman was a half-sister to this Roman dude. This belief comes from my own learning experiences, as well as my experiences as a museum educator. Dates and timelines are important, yes, but that is not what history is ultimately about. History is about the stories of people, how they lived, what they did and why they did it. It is important to understand when and where events happened in relation to each other, and of course there are some key dates that one must simply know, but a concentration on dates and names is what makes history BORING for so many people. History is not boring! It is FUN! It is fascinating! But if that fascination, that "every day" aspect is not communicated, the student is forever lost. I know, I've been there. After a horrid course in 19th century European history I was ready to give up on my history degree for ever. But then I went to that beautiful country across the sea where an enthusiastic professor communicated to us the wonders of life in Greece and Rome. And in doing so, she unleashed a monster in me and helped me find my little niche in the study of history.

It is spring in the city. I know this because my non-existant allergies are coming back, a combination of reacting to both pollen and pollution. The doctors say I don't have allergies, but I know better. I am the one who lives in my body. People with fibro do not respond to allergy skin tests because our bio-chemistry is screwed up, so they don't work. And unfortunately, many doctors are trained to see only what can show up on a test. But that is a rant for another day. That nagging scratchy throat, barely-there sinus headache and watery eyes are here to stay until September. Time to stock up on the Claritan, Reactin, Allegra, etc, etc.

Speaking of pollution, I took my car through the car wash tonight. Let's see if it's still white in the morning!

Now what to do about this angst....

Putting the Cat in Cathedral

Cats on Good Friday, donkeys Easter Sunday... maybe next week they'll have giraffes.

Okay, first off I found out about the cat. The cat is named CC, for Cathedral Cat, and wandered in off the street. I'm told she's not particularly friendly, but she lives in the cathedral now.

Today was Easter Sunday, of course. The service was lengthy again, but the music was so fantastic and celebratory that I certainly didn't mind. The cathedral was beautifully decorated with lillies and flowers and candles. The bishop and assistant bishop were there in their fancy robes. The assistant bishop is a woman, and the bishop said this was the first time a woman bishop celebrated Easter eucharist in this cathedral. Anyway, there was of course wonderful organ and choral music and a brass quintet. And there was a donkey. The bishop had arranged for two donkeys to be brought into the church during his children's talk. So a big donkey and a little donkey were paraded through the cathedral.

All these strange Anglican customs.....

Cats in Church

A while ago, Blonde had a discussion on her blog about children in church. I'm proposing now a discussion on cats in church...

I went to the (Anglican) cathedral for Good (Holy) Friday service this morning. It was a sublime experience enhanced by the gorgeous surroundings and out-of-this-world choral music. How I've been longing for music like that.

Anyway, as I entered the cathedral, I was surprised to see the comfortably-padded pews arranged in a circle. Obviously they are not fastened to the floor. There was a large, plain wooden altar in the middle, with a large rug beside it. And there on the rug was a cat, calmly sitting there watching people come in. No one seemed at all concerned that there was a cat in the church, least of all the cat. I meant to ask someone after the service about the cat, but I completely forgot. Perhaps this is a tradition peculiar to anglican churches? Or the cathedral has a mouse problem? Or the bishop just likes cats? The cat wandered off before the service began, but I didn't see where he/she went to. I'm going back Sunday, so I'll see if the cat is still around.

Today is Good Friday, and this is for those of you interested in words. Why is it called GOOD Friday? Because in earlier English, 'good' meant 'holy'. I wonder if good day or goodbye has similar origins? I'll have to look into that and get back to you.

Do-It-Yourself Cosmetic Surgery Is Not A Good Idea

This is just a warning to anyone considering do-it-yourself cosmetic surgery. Even if it is accidental, it really, REALLY hurts to slice a mole with a razor. I highly recommend getting a pro to do it instead.

I went shopping at the big Stoney Creek Walmart with Curly and Baby Curly. Baby Curly is almost two and she is so much fun. Anyway, I bought some clothes with the money I got from returning that awful anthropology textbook (the clerk said they were sending them to the University of Alberta; that is not far enough away for me!)Anyway, I got some summer work clothes: beige capris and a nice top. BUT they had LIME green capris! How AWESOME is that? I think I'll be heading back for a pair later this spring. Curly thinks they're too bright; but Mabel thinks they're awesome. Like Mabel, I love lime. They'll go great with my lime flip-flops; now I just need to find lime nail polish for my toes....

TGU (the guy upstairs) has been pretty quiet lately, so no stories there. I did practise my flute a couple of evenings ago, so he has been subjected to some of my 'noise'.

Remember the un-mechanic? He was the guy who tried to fix his truck at work and ended up swallowing gasoline. Anyway, I hear that he is working on home renovations these days. Since he's started taking his truck to a professional mechanic for repairs, he needed to find some other way to injure himself. So, in the course of home renovations, he managed to drop a DOOR on his HEAD. He wanted me to share that, too. Maybe he's going for a Darwin Award?

Update A quick follow up on my rant about the 1812 musket: the owner of the musket has donated it to Battlefield House Museum, one of Hamilton's museums, located on the site of the Battle of Stoney Creek. Both this museum and the Hamilton Military Museum are located on 1812 sites. I am very glad that this awesome artifact will be staying in Hamilton.

Weirdness and Worms

I was talking about fishing and worms with Mr. Handsome the other night and I remembered writing this a few years back. It was a letter to a radio show. Here it is for your amusement.

*******************
Dear Sad Goat,

I have intended many times to write to the Sad Goat but somehow, with all the busy-ness of university work I never got around to it. Now the university has set me free and, theoretically anyway, I have more time on my hands. It is actually in response to your program last week on field workers that I write to you now. The program got me thinking about other types of field work and, being a country girl, I thought of farming. But then I thought of another, little-known job: worm picking. Come spring, worm and bait companies from the big cities flood farmers’ fields and roadside ditches on damp spring nights gathering worms. It isn’t a job I would particularly enjoy: creeping along the damp ground until the dawn finally comes. You can see their bobbing lights on their hats as the crawl along the ground collecting the poor, helpless, harmless worms. Yes, I feel sorrier for the worms than I do for the people who pick them.

My family thinks me rather strange for this sympathy I have for the poor, defenceless earthworms. Apparently, when I was a child I actually picked up the worms and kissed them. I suspect I did this, though, more to gross out the others than to express any true affection for the humble earthworm. But I have observed that they are quite interesting creatures.

I was sitting outside in the dark enjoying the warm, quiet country night the other week when I heard a slight rustling noise in the garden beside me. In the faint gleam of light from the kitchen window I spied something slimy-looking. Wondering if it may be a garden snake, I switched on the yellow porch light and bent down for a closer look. It was a worm. In fact, it was several worms. As I knelt at the edge of the garden, I heard more rustling. The noise seemed scattered throughout the garden, and when I looked closer, it was caused by many worms coming out of their holes and moving through the dead leaves and twigs. I sat there for a bit, just watching the worms creep through the garden and pondering the life lessons the worm could teach us humans. One particular ambitious worm determinedly attempted to pull a rather large leaf down into his little home. He must have succeeded, for the next morning the leaf was gone. It was quite interesting to watch (I could see him take the edge of the leaf into his mouth) and got me thinking about earthworms again. I remember reading a novel (by Judy Blume, I think) when I was young that had a character who baked worm cookies. So I got to wondering, does anybody out there actually eat worms?

Entertaining Links

No one can find all the crazy, funny, time-wasting internet sites like a student studying for exams. Here are a few gems I've stumbled across recently:

This is a very interesting blog, written by a New York taxi cab driver. She says that it is going to be published as a book in the not-too-distant future. Very interesting reading. http://newyorkhack.blogspot.com (Tender ears alert-- there are a few bad words.)

This one's for my bro, and a few other friends out there (you know who you are). Someone went to a lot of work to reproduce the Simpson's opening sequence-- but with real actors. (For the record, I do not care much for that show.) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=49IDp76kjPw&feature=Favorites&page=1&t=t&f=b

And this one is for my about-to-be-married friends... or anyone else who wants to gawk at some truly awful wedding dresses. http://www.visi.com/%7Edheaton/bride/the_bride_wore.html

For those (males) I know who like to nourish their facial hair, check out the beard and moustache world championships. There are some pretty amazing works of art going around on faces out there. http://www.worldbeardchampionships.com

This is another one for the guys out there... you know who you are... who are fascinated by, um...passing gas? http://www.heptune.com/farts.html

And that's all for now....

Palm Sunday

I went to church this morning, something I haven't done in a while. I missed the hymns and organ and choir and 'ritual' of church, so I went to an Anglican church. Once upon a time I used to connect ritualized worship with a 'less alive' spirituality, but I've since come to understand that ritual and spiritual life are not mutually exclusive, so long as the ritual does not become the substance of the faith. Unfortantely, though, that can happen-- go to church and go through the motions because 'that's what you do'--regardless of denomination or style of worship. Ritual can have its place and can be comforting. Anyway, the minute I walked through the church doors the very building reminded me of the churches I had been in in England. And in fact, I found myself thinking of the time I went to church with Bimble to see Blonde sing in the choir. It was beautiful this morning to hear a choir and organ. It really made me want to sing in a choir again (even though I'm not much better at singing than the guy upstairs, if you ask my family!) The sermon was fantastic-- the (I'm not sure what you call them in Anglican circles... preacher? reverend?) explained the historic symbolism of palms (dates to the Old Testament) and donkeys. Of course, I am interested in these historical aspects-- I like seeing how history and faith intersect.

Anyway, on a secular note, I cannot make hot crossed buns. I tried again this year, with my mother's recipe. I absolutely adore her hot crossed buns-- with raisins, but none of the other candied fruit junk that bakeries put in. Anyway, this year's attempt was a failure so I think I will have to stick to making cookies, brownies and pies. The buns are okay enough that I'll eat some of them, but I certainly won't be sharing them. Maybe I'll try again next year with the traditional yeast method (as opposed to the quick-rise method).

For those of you who are worried about my academics following the procrastination post, don't worry. I didn't do all of those things in one day, just most. I still have some more laundry to do, which I might do today or I might do tomorrow.

Rediscovering the Art of Procrastination

1. Chat on MSN to any and all friends who come online.
2. Sleep lots-- you can't study if you're too tired.
3. Check your email.
4. Go through your closets and drawers and make a pile of clothes to donate to charity.
5. Clean out and organize your sock drawer.
6. Check your email again.
7. Chat with friends on MSN.
8. Play with the cat (you can't study with her running around the apartment anyway).
9. Take a long hot shower.
10. Soak the red dishcloth you were given for Christmas so it won't run in the wash.
11. Clean one of the kitchen windows.
12. Do a load of laundry.
13. Wash all the dirty dishes that have accumulated since midterms.
14. Vaccuum.
15. Do another load of laundry.
16. Clean the kitchen screen door.
17. Scrape the peeling paint out of the bathroom sink (long story).
18. Check email again.
19. Do another load of laundry.
20. Call your coworker at work to discuss a work situation.
21. Check MSN to see if anyone new is online.
22. Turn some of your cool graphics into MSN emoticons.
23. Scan your anthro notes into the computer so you can send them to a friend who missed class.
24. Enjoy a long hot bubble bath.
25. Shred your paper for recycling next week.
26. Write a blog entry.

Recipe for Relaxation

Here's my recipe for true relaxation, especially when experiencing sore muscles:

• 1 dimmed room
• 1 Enya CD, on repeat
• several candles (scented or not) to suit
• 1 quiet, gentle fountain
• 1 purring cat
• just enough massage oil, preferably aromatherapy

I spent a relaxing hour working out (or rather, trying to work out) the numerous knots. Muggs seemed very relxed as well, although she couldn't figure out why her 'mommy' was rubbing her own shoulders and not kitty's shoulders. However, working on your own body is not as relaxing as going to a real massage therapist! It is cheaper, though, and better than nothing.

I have been doing a bit of reading on massage and aromatherapy and I think I would like to investigate aromatherapy more. I have often been a little wary of complementary and alternative medicines but considering my own disappointments with our biological-medical system I am more open to other ideas of healing. We have also had some interesting lectures and discussions in anthropology class about medical systems. Perhaps I will post some more about that at a later date.

I didn't notice any particularly funny stories happening today. I can report that the robins are flocking in the park (I saw 12 at once the other day) and the chipmunks are out of hibernation.

There is a news story that annoys me. An 1812 musket was turned in to the Hamilton police during their gun amnesty. The India-pattern flintlock musket was possibly used locally during the war of 1812. But instead of donating it to the local military museum (which also happens to be located on the exact site where area soldiers were encamped during said war) where its story could be told to and enjoyed by all Hamiltonians, it is being donated to the Canadian War Museum. Now I agree that it is better off there than destroyed, but large museums have large collections and very little is actually displayed. So if it does go to the CWM, more likely than not it will be socked away in their collection storage. It makes far more sense to put it in the local military museum where it has local relevance than to hide it in Ottawa where no one from Hamilton will ever see it. So that's an abbreviated version of today's rant.

Have you ever noticed that in university there is always one course (no matter how few you take) that seems to have all the assignments you really hate to do? And how, when you're doing said assignment(s), otherwise insignificant tasks suddenly take on tremendous, earth-shattering importance? Anthropology has been that course for me this semester. Our take-home exam is due next Wednesday (1 week) and I am have TREMENDOUS issues with it because I DO NOT WANT TO DO IT. Sadly, I truly did rearrange my sock drawer yesterday. It was Very Important.

Better Early Than Late (Repost)

For some reason my Wednesday post didn't post properly, so I'm trying it again.

This is reposted from Wednesday.

Yesterday I got up an hour earlier than usual. The bright sun streaming through the living room window and into my bedroom wouldn't let me go back to sleep. And of course Muggs, knowing that I have been staying up quite late to study, thought it would be good for me to get up early, too. So I got up and went about my morning routine. I went off to work as usual, stopping in at the castle first to sign in and chat with a few people before heading up to the museum. The custodian was suprised to see me and commented that I was in early. No, I said, it's one o'clock. And then I looked at my watch and realized that it was TWELVE o'clock. Somewhere along the line I forgot that I got up an hour early and I just went through my morning routine as usual without really looking at the clock.Life has the potential to be boring for the next couple of weeks as I hole myself up and study, study, study. Today is my last day of class. I have one-take home exam to write and two exams to study for. We'll see how my brain cells fare.

Sweet, Smart, Single....and bakes a mean pan of brownies

When I first started using an internet dating site, I found it awkward to write about myself. What do I say in the profile? I'm not used to talking about my accomplishments or qualities and I certainly didn't want to sound boastful. But as I read hundreds (quite likely, by now) of other profiles I figured out what I liked and didn't like about people's profiles. For example, I like to read profiles that actually tell me something about the other's qualities and interests. I'm not so keen on the 'shopping list'-- you know, the ones that list the guy's ideal woman. I usually don't respond to those unless the rest of the profile is really good. And especially not if they list things like "has long hair" because A) I don't have long hair, and B) it sounds kinda shallow.

But I have come to realize that writing a profile is a good way of stoppng and taking stock of myself. I think it's a good thing for anyone to stop from time to time and identify the qualities that others find in ones' self. (Sorry, awkward sentence there.) I don't know about other people, but I know that I live so much with myself that sometimes I forget about any of my good qualities and start to focus on the things that I think are faults. Writing a thoughtful profile can be a good way of 'getting in touch with yourself': what qualities do you like about yourself? What things do you want to work on? What activities are you up to in your spare time? What activities do you want to try some day? What things in life are most important to you? Where are you career-wise and where do you want to go? What qualities do you find attractive in others? What kind of person are you now and what do you want to be?

I like to travel, although being a student kinda puts the brakes on how much traveling I can do. I’ve enjoyed seeing belugas and polar bears while working in Churchill (Manitoba); worked on improving my French in la Belle Province of Quebec; and soaked in the scenery and culture while studying for a year in Wales. I would love to travel more and to return to some of these places and discover new vistas as well. The idea of studying or working abroad for a while is very appealing, too. I enjoy being by the ocean, but if it’s not available a lake will do (even if it's a somewhat polluted Great Lake....)

Like most people, I’m very open to trying new activities. Someday I would like to try ballroom dancing, canoeing, sailing, playing tennis and snorkeling. For now, I enjoy browsing bookstores, painting, baking brownies, sewing, ice skating, cross country skiing, hiking, and reading. As for my musical tastes: Ecclectic! Baroque, choral, francophone, traditional, techno-trad, euro-dance, world.....

I’m a very visual person and enjoy creating and appreciating fine art. I like to find art in every day places. My faith in God is important to me. My friends find me a funny person but also sensitive to the needs and feelings of others. I enjoy being a goof and making people laugh, but I equally enjoy quiet, serious conversation. It’s important to me to cultivate a few deep, quality friendships than to collect a large number of friends. I try to cultivate a gracious, beautiful loving spirit—but you can decide for yourself how well I do on that!

I’m excited about learning—which is why I’ve gone back to university for another degree. Someday I would like to earn my PhD and teach at university. However, I strongly believe that not all learning comes from a university—there is much more to intelligence than just having a degree! (My father, I believe, is a good example of this. He always told me not to let schooling get in the way of our education and was also influential in cultivating my interest in history.)

I followed Molesworth's advice and mentioned my brownie-baking talent in my profile. Oddly enough, the response rate to smilies that I sent out went up. One fellow suggested we would need a bake off, and another said that if I could make a good carrot cake he'd marry me. (Don't worry, he doesn't seem like a creep-- quite the opposite, a guy with a sense of humour.) But maybe that's why I'm single...I need to expand my baking repertoire. Perhaps whoever said "The way to a man's heart is through his stomach" really was on to something.

I woke up to the smell of cat pee....

...and only after searching my apartment did I realize it was just the Hamilton rain.

I seem to have lost my wonderful, perfect raincoat I brought all the way from northern Wales.

I let a joke on msn go too far and a friend got mad.

In the staff meeting this morning, out of a total of an hour and a half, half an hour was spent talking about event promotion which annoyed me no end because A) no one at the meeting, aside from two of the managers, has anything whatsoever to do with event promotion, B) it wasn't even on the agenda, and C) I had a class to go to.

After the staff meeting there was a meeting specifically about the museum and upcoming exhibit changes and I couldn't go because I had to go to class. Which really sucked, because I want to share my ideas and be heard. But then, what do I matter anyway?

Before I get any more negative about this crumby day, I'm going to go. I try not to be like that.

This was, afterall, just meant to be a post to say why I wasn't going to post today.

Look up....

Just a quick post before I lose all my operating brain cells to this really dumb take home anthropology exam....

Warning: do not read this if you are eating pudding (or angel delight) or if you have a weak stomach.....

Ok, how many of you have been pooped on by a bird? I have now been pooped (there's a better word springs to mind but I do want to maintain at least a veneer of gentility here) on by a bird THREE times in my life. THREE. The first one I remember, I was riding my bike and a seagull flew overhead (ok, maybe it was a pigeon, I have no idea) and deposited warm, white, runny, grossness all over my hand and bike handlebars. That takes aiming and timing-- no coincidence can account for that. That bird knew what it was doing and did it deliberately and with glee. Next came an incident with a pet bird. A friend's bird, to be exact, which decided that my jeans needed some decoration. Hence the reason I will never, NEVER, EVER own a pet bird of any sort, no matter how cute. Now, today, a bird poops on me AGAIN. I'm walking back to the apartment after parking the car and SPLAT. What do I look like, a ruddy statue???? Now granted, most of it did land on the sidewalk, but a couple of vile drips did make it onto my beautiful pink coat, so it still counts as being pooped on. No wonder Muggs doesn't like birds.

And the only proper, legitimate use of the s* word, as far as I am concerned, is with reference to bird excrement. No other word captures the vileness...or the sound... quite the same way.

Don't get me wrong, I do like songbirds and I enjoy their creative colouring and sweet songs.... FROM A DISTANCE. And not a distance above, either, where there's a chance they could poop on me.

How Embarassing....

I lost my car again. This time, though, it wasn't late at night when no one could see me. No, this time it was at 6.30 in a busy parking lot while wearing a bright pink jacket and pushing a cartload of groceries AND having been spotted by a coworker. How embarassing. I'm going to blame this on the hypoglycemia (the cart was the only thing keeping me from falling over and all I could think of was "home....eat....home....eat" while trying to chat politely with the coworker.) BUT I never had a problem with losing my car where I lived before. Must be Hamilton. You'd think this was a new car, but I can't even use that excuse... I've been driving it for almost two years. This is why I always try to park in generally the same area when going to the usual haunts. However, I had parked in a slightly different area of the plaza since I needed to get litter for Muggs and go to Drugger's Shopmart for myself. *sigh* Must be getting too old...

Well, another one has bit the dust... congratulations to you-know-who-you-are on your engagement! *sigh* I'm going to have be a lonely bitter chick all on my own now, lol. Just if you invite me to the wedding, make sure you invite lots of cute, tall, attractive, SINGLE guys, okay? Congrats!

Best get back to work on this infernal take-home anthropology exam. I would rather be studying Roman history, but I guess the sooner I get this done and handed in, the better. I will have to share my reflections on shopping for beauty products another time.