Amberism

New Spectacles

Steve and I took a family trip to the eye doctor today. We do that now that we're all married and officially a family. Cute, eh? I'm happy to report that my eye did not remove itself from my head like that poor sap on E.R. last Thursday.

I love going to the eye doctor. Honestly, I should have studied to become an eye doctor I have so much fun when I go. I love all the gadgets. I love that they can map out my eye just because I looked at some balloon come in and out of focus. I could have done without the puffs of air being shoved into my eye, but other than that it's a good time. Plus I feel like an A+ student at the eye doctor because I can see the numbers hidden in the dots of color, and can read the teeny-tiny print as long as it isn't 800 miles away. I get a lot of "That's GREAT!" so I feel all special.

Today the optometrist and I spent 15 minutes discussing the move from slide rulers to calculators to computers*; he was a very nerdy optometrist. And this, dear readers, is the power of a skirt. He spent about 5 seconds looking at my eyes (which are, of course, healthy and almost don't even need glasses if it weren't that I spend my life staring at this damn monitor) and the remaining time getting really excited about how things have changed and how the computer revolutionized the eye industry. He spent a total of 5 minutes with Steve and said hardly anything.

Take a guess which one of us was wearing a skirt.

*He was also really pleased that I worked in chemical engineering software. This is not the usual response when I tell people what I do, normally they quickly change the subject.

Happy Birthday Miss. Chrispy

Hope you have a nice day, girl!

New Pet

Steve and I have a new pet, I've named him Salazer Slytherin because I'm original like that :).

There's a snake making a home of our garden. Hopefully only one, although his coloring seems to change depending on what time of the day I see him, if Steve sees him, if he's in the middle of the garden or in the rocks. I prefer to believe that he's able to change color instead of believing that there is more than one snake making a happy home in the rocks around our biggest vegetable bed.

I'll be honest, he is rather handsome.

I do the girl jump-and-yell thing every_single_time I come across Salazer. He sticks up his little head and seems irritated that I interrupted his sleep, and then I proceed to go the long way around because, well, he's a snake and I'm a sucky girl not cut out for getting too close to things like snakes. And spiders. And beetle larvae.

After we meet, he turns around and slithers into the rocks again, all nonchalant like. My only concern is that I read that garter snakes eat earthworms and I'm partial to my earthworms and I'd rather he didn't feast on a beneficial garden bug.

In other garden news, aspargus spears have appeared in one of the beds! Random spears because I overhauled that bed having no idea what was planted there previously. I looked up how to grow aspargus on the interweb and it's quite the involved process, so I'm not so sure that aspargus is really in my realm of things I can grow. I'm a little too new at this for something that complicated. Also, little ants have made the area near the random aspargus their home. The same little ants that are invading my kitchen, but I don't think it's the same family of ants since the kitchen and the aspargus patch are a fair distance apart. I've yet to find the source of the kitchen ants. Ants in garden is fine, ants in my kitchen is not.

There are also carpenter ants on the island. I screamed louder when I came across those huge ants overhauling a piece of wood than I did when I came real close to the Salazer. Bloody ants.

In keeping with the nature theme, a hummingbird dropped by while we were out enjoying our dinner! Stunning! And Steve watched a bald eagle take off from the road where it was feasting on a dead bunny :(, but the eagle was gorgeous. You see a lot of eagles out here, actually, and rabbits really do reproduce like rabbits because they're everywhere.

There is also a handsome little woodpecker in our woods behind the house that we were watching the other day.

Does life get any better than this?

ps: total aside, I burnt the beejesus out of my back yesterday while attempting to mow part of my never-ending lawn. Do we redheads ever learn?

It's the attack of the eye ball!

Did you guys see E.R. last night? Did you see the eyeball pop out of that guy's head? ugh. I so couldn't watch it. Can that really happen? Seriously?

Just thinking about it now gives me the weebie-jeebies, and I even had to turn the channel, I couldn't watch the whole scene.

Pope Amber The Beautiful

Pope Benny is just so, traditional. If I was elected Pope, I'd choose the name Pope Princess Amber The Wonderful. Or Pope Amber Closest To God: Obey Me.

Is there a rule about puncuation in the papal name? I know you can pick any name you want so I say have a little fun with it! You don't get have sex so why not pick a name that makes you giggle or something. And honestly, who wants to be the 16th of anything?!

What would you select as your Holy Name? No bashing catholics allowed because some of our bestest friends are catholics. Of course said friends wouldn't win any awards for Best Catholic of the Year or anything like that ;), but still, show respect for the faith while still having fun with your new Holy Name. As much respect as one can have while making up ridiculous Holy Names anyway. Yeah. I'll stop typing now.

Softball Season

In the spirit of forced-volunteerism I joined the softball team. It went like this

Steve's Coworker: Do you play softball
Amber: I despise softball
SC: Do you play, though?
A: I played on my company's team for a couple of years, I hated every waking minute of it. And I suck. A lot.
SC: You're on the team. Coach Al - Amber's on the team
A: uh, but, uh, well, I kinda really hate softball...

Apparently they're the worse team in the league. Last year they created a "D" league for the worse teams, and we're the bottom of THAT league.

Last night was our first game, and I was desperately dreading it. I really hate softball. I find that team sports are seldom fun because there's always some guy or two who ruins it with the ultra-competitiveness and inability to lose. The team I was on with my company was made of people who I dreaded spending any time with, especially the second year when the three friends I had on the team decided it wasn't fun and quit. I stayed on because they needed a girl and I thought maybe it'll get better. It didn't. If it wasn't for the beer, there would have been nothing to save me from 2 hours of absolute hell.

At the end of the night, it wasn't that bad. I still suck, but so does most of my team and we were completely slaughtered but everyone is really positive instead of being all moody if you didn't make the big hit for them. It's a hard group of people to organize, so the team changes every game because different people come out for every game. I hope it stays fun.

It's a slow day

My Grandma sent me a list of quotes, and this one made me laugh out loud

If you think dogs can't count, try putting three dog biscuits in your pocket and then giving Fido only two of them. -Phil Pastoret

This morning I gave Vegas a treat, and threw three bisquits in my pocket as I was going to the front yard to do some gardening. Since the front yard isn't fenced I wanted to make sure that Vegas would come back to me if any kids rode by on their bikes - he's scared of kids so it's a precaution. Normally I don't need to resort to treat-baiting to get his attention.

He didn't leave my side and kept an eye on that pocket the whole time we were out there.

They Always Find You

There's a Jehovah Witness Hall (Temple? Whatever) on the highway not far from our acreage. I remember driving past it and thinking that one of the good things about living in the country is that it's unlikely the JW's would come to call.

How naive could I be? This morning my doorbell rang and I nearly had myself a heart attack. The dog was so confused he didn't even bark. I don't think the doorbell has been rung in the 6 months I've lived here! I was momentarily excited! Maybe it was the Avon lady or the Welcome Wagon! Hey, speaking of the welcome wagon we were never welcomed. huh.

After a moment of panic, and a moment of wondering what the hell should I do with the dog, I opened the door and realized, to my dismay, I should have pretended I wasn't home.

I'm never rude to the JWs, they are still human beings afterall, if misguided and basically rude themselves what with the shoving their beliefs down your throat, but I've realized you can't converse with them like normal people otherwise they come back relentlessly. I spent 5 minutes at the door saying I'm not interested and NEVER will be, over and over again.

The thing that really gets to me though, is that she had her little "friend" Rachel, cute little blonde girl, with her. Obviously someone is willing to force their 5 year old kid to go door to door with some lady from their church and convince people to join. How can you be so easily influenced by a society to agree to that? 5 year old girls should be outside playing with their friends on a beautiful spring day, not being pawns in some misguided religious game.

And completely unrelated, but so worthy of mention because it's great and would make the JWs blush - The BC Sex Party which is actually running in the upcoming BC Provincial election (it doesn't look like a joke, does it? Looks like the real deal to me) with the aim to develop a sex-positive culture. Hee!

This Post Isn't About Ants. Honest.

Yesterday I met with my personal trainer at the gym. How posh am I? I have a personal trainer. heh.

I learned that if you're looking for something motivating to get you to the gym, stand beside your trainer and look in the mirror while she demonstrates a move and you're trying to mimick her. Yikes.

Now, I don't consider myself to be a big girl. Overall I have a pretty good body image. I could lose weight, absolutely, but I've never doubted that I'm a nice enough looking girl and I can pull off sexy if I'm in the mood. Check out my husband, he's hot, and he picked ME up, thankyouverymuch.

Still, generally speaking I'd say I'm as average as it gets. I wear the national average size in clothing, I have average sized feet, even my bra-size is average. The only non-average physical attribute I have is red hair, which isn't that special when I'm standing next to my trainer because she, too, is a redhead.

So, I'm standing next to my trainer, and even at the gym with perfect people I still feel pretty good about myself. Anyway, we're in front of the never-ending gym mirror and let me tell you, from that perspective I look like an elephant. That girl is little. She doesn't really seem teeny-tiny like little girls tend to when you're just hanging out and chatting with her, but when I stand next to her in front of that damn mirror, she suddenly seems miniscule. Or I seem enormous, depending how you spin it.

To add to that, she lifted her jacket/t-shirt to demonstrate an ab-move so I could see what she was talking about. My God! Abs of freaking steal! All the trainers and even the girls who work out wear an awful lot of clothing, so you can never really see their physiques. Wow, this gal has abs to die for, let me tell you. If only I could have abs like that without all the working out and shit. And I could still eat ice cream. Yeah, then I'd be all over it.

In the meantime, I won't be lifting my shirt for nobody but Steve and I got my work-out grove back. I have no desire to be the elephant in the room.

Antsville

If you happen to be at my house, and you get a feeling that something is crawling on you, something, like an ant, probably is.

Even though they are the smallest ants I've ever seen, that doesn't stop me from screaming like a girl. It's one thing when an ant is on the counter, it's something else entirely when you're sitting on the couch and the ant is on your arm, let me tell you.

Then, to add to that, I went to do a little shaving this morning and there was an ant on my razor blade. On my razor blade! Which I keep in the shower stall in the master bathroom. I mean, honestly.

STEVEN, YOU HAVE TO MAKE THE ANTS GO AWAY.

I'm just sayin'.

It's an ant party

Not too much to report. Steve made it to Calgary, safe and sound. I'm taking care of the pooch full-time, and let me say, I am certainly more a cat person than a dog person. Especially when I'm laid up with a headache-from-hell and am unbelievably nauseous and the dog sees that as an opportunity to rip apart a $50 pillow sham. Good times.

The ants have moved in. I'm considering charging them rent. I can't figure out where they're coming from, I've walked the house and see no nest, so maybe they actually live in the house. meh.

When is rhubarb ready to do things with?

A few weeks ago I took everything out of my craft closet with the noble idea that it was time to start organizing the drawers and closets in the house. The way I move in is in steps. First, I just get the boxes empty and put things where I think they’ll work. Some areas just sort of get stuffed. Then, as time goes on and I have an idea of how I want the house set up, I start slowly re-organizing all the drawers and cupboards trying to get the perfect system down. It usually takes me about a year or so to get really settled into a place. I might look moved in, but it’s a really a work-in-progress.

So, I bought a bunch of cheap organizers from Sears for the closet, and built them a couple of weekends ago, so this weekend I had big plans to get that closet it tip-top shape. Sunday was a write-off (see above, headache) so it’s taking longer than planned. I got it painted and the organizers installed so now that closet is all peachy, but the office itself is a war zone. My Grandma is coming for dinner, and I find the prospect of company usually lights a fire under my butt, so if all goes well, the office should be in order by Thursday. I hope. My goal here was that I’d get that all nice and ready to do some real crafting. I can’t do anything creative if the room isn’t set up EXACTLY the way I want it.

Yeah, I just spent two paragraphs talking about a closet. Things are slow.

oh! I did watch three movies on Friday night. The Notebook, the book was better but a good girly movie, Along Came Polly, entertaining, and Closer, which wasn’t Hollywood so if you’re looking for feel-good, this isn’t the movie for you.

The Ants Go Marching Two-By-Two. Hoorah. Hoorah.

You know that scene in Jerry McGuire where Jerry is talking to Rod on the phone and Rod is doing the "Show Me The Money" and standing in the hall watching a trail of ants walking up his wall?

yeah, that's my house. We've had little black ants making themselves comfortable in the kitchen for a while now, and I kill them (I'm evil, yes, but fuck, they're annoying). Not that it matters, because they're ants and they reproduce like, well, ants. Their little trail started behind the hood fan in the kitchen so I put out a few ant baits on the counters and just sort of let it go.

I've lived in houses that I've shared with ants before. Ants much bigger and scarier looking than these little guys. I don't leave out honey or peanut butter to bait them and they come and go with little interference to my everyday life. I may see the occassional ant but I think nothing of it. In Spruce Grove they had a lovely little nest against the house in the backyard but did not invade my house. We lived in harmony, frolicking in the sun, chasing butterflies.

Last night I sit myself down for my bedtime pee in the master bathroom and as I'm peeing I'm glancing around the bathroom, as one is apt to do when one pees, look down and notice there is a fucking trail, a fucking trail, of these little black ants across the bathroom floor and up the garbage can. Little black ants in a little black ant line that seemed to start at the baseboard outside the bathroom door. We're talking a hundred or more bloody ants, in my house, at one time. Upstairs. Feet from where I sleep.

I was displeased. Displeased enough to wake up Steve, who cared not at all I might add. I dreamt of ants crawling all over me, Steve's body turning into a ant, an entire night of ant nightmares if you will.

The ant line had dwindled considerably by the morning, but the ants were still there. I made Steve move the garbage can since something in the garbage can was like gold to our new houseguests, and we put an ant bait in the middle of their little ant line on the bathroom floor. I'm not really comfortable with that since it's poison and my dog eats everything-in-site in about a nano-second. I can see it now, I look over and the damn dog is eating that little ant poison container. Lord.

This sounds like a problem for Steve, if you ask me. God forced me to have to endure the inconvenience of everything related with child-bearing, even though I currently have no desire to bear children. Steve should eliminate the ants, that's his lot in life. Of course, Steve is conveniently going to Calgary, tomorrow, leaving me alone with a housefull of god-damn ants.

Want some ants? Feel a little ant-less? I'll box some up and ship them to you. No charge.

Holiday

I need a holiday, but since that doesn't seem very likely anytime soon, I'll settle for an imaginary holiday.

Tell me your favorite holiday! Or the holiday you wish you could take!

I've been eyeing plane fares to Scotland, thinking that in the Fall perhaps Steve and I will get a chance to spend a week in Europe. No idea what the heck we'd do in Scotland, but hey, it's a holiday. We wanted to take our honeymoon in New Zealand, but then I decided to go back to school part-time and you need at least three weeks if you're going that far, and well, money. It's always about money.

So, tell me about a fun holiday! Spill!

Pictures!

I still haven't found my cable to the camera, instead I bought USB reader and so, behold! Pictures!

Ha! Dog in a backpack! How cute is that?!

Man and his dog. Classic.

Our campsite at Labour Day Lake, pre-snow.

Our campsite at Labour Day Lake, a few hours later.

Hair. Straight. Short.
I have an unusually large head.

Hair. Curly. Short. BAAAAD picture.

Spring: Suck It.

I've never been a huge fan of Spring. My favorite season is, without a doubt, Fall. I love Fall. It signifies new beginnings (start of school), it smells nice, it's usually still warm out, you're excited about the approaching holiday season but not yet into the holiday season so you're not stressed about it. Fall is a season for falling in love, if you ask me. And, to top it all off, Fall is pretty.

Spring, on the other hand, is annoying. Spring is fickle. Spring can't decide if she wants to be sunny, or rainy. And sometimes, for shits and giggles, she'll even snow simply, I think, because she can. Now, "because I can" is reason enough to justify my own flakey moods and ideas, but I'm not so warm to the reasoning when someone else is doing it.

Spring has daylight savings, so she steals an hour of my sleep, and that is never met with a smile. Spring is all mucky and slushy so the dog is leaving muddy footprints all over my house. Spring warms up everything so that the daffadils come up, and bloom, and then it slaps it all with frost, so they wilt and look truly very depressing. Spring comes just as you're getting really antsy about winter finally coming to an end, and then you can't go outside and play because it's raining. And raining. Oh, did I mention that it's raining? Again?

And there's nothing good on TV during the Spring season. It's all re-runs. What's with that?