Sunday, December 31, 2006

Top 10 Things to Tell Relatives Over the Holidays When Asked About Your Love Life

In retrospect, this information probably would have more useful prior to any holiday get-togethers with family and friends so that you could actually use any of these one line zingers should the occasion warrant. Oh well, timing was never my forte, just ask my ex-husband.

Warning: The following material is to be used with caution and while consuming alcohol - it'll make you sound much more believable. In fact people will feel so sorry for your [potentially] new found alcoholism that they probably won't probe any further. Yes, it's that easy. Above all, have fun with it. These are only ideas, but the possibilities are as endless as your imagination, and your supply of Argentinian wine.

Top 10 Things To Tell Relatives Over the Holidays When Asked About Your Love Life:
- Fabulous! In fact, there's someone I want you to meet [turn to the empty space beside you] and say "Brad [or other imaginary boyfriend/girlfriend's name] this is [name of nosey relative]. " You need to keep a straight face for this one.
- Do you think Mary ever asked Jesus about his love life?
- My therapist told me not to talk about him.
- "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaarrrgh." If they ask you what that means say "That's Wookiee for none of your business."
- I was captured by a couple tall TALEs (Terrorists Against Love Everywhere). They implanted a tiny microchip into my brain. If I go out on a date again [narrow your eyes at this point for effect], the chip will self-destruct and I will die a painful death, more painful than watching any Madonna movie.
- My gynecologist told me not to talk about him. (Note: might only work if you're a girl).
- Ponder out loud, "What would Brian Boitano do?" And then do a triple axel in the direction of the kitchen.
- Say, "Hey, how's your sex life going?"

Ok, I know that's only 8 but what kind of relatives are you dealing with that you need 10? I'm not a machine you know. But I do like mechanics ;)

Thursday, December 28, 2006

Out With the Old, In With the New or Slightly Used

Dear clothes closet,

Regretfully, I am writing to announce that tonight some of your inhabitants will be removed. Prepare to be raided, inspected, and modeled like you're in a 1990's movie music montage to Bon Jovi's "You Give Love A Bad Name."

Yes, sadly it is the day when cute little dresses and cardigans everywhere [at my house] whimper at the thought of not being worn once again on a first date to meet that hunky beau full of possibilities and instead are being chucked. Without feeling, without remorse. Like an ex-mate who is neither your current tango partner under the sheets nor your friend but is that symbolic saloon door swinging in and out (and in and out) of your life.

Any inhabitants found with holes, pulls, lowered hems that cannot be mended, missing buttons, missing sleeves and/or holes in unmentionable places shall be sent to clothes heaven. That magical place where all clothes who have lived a good life and seen some action on the field must go to, I mean live out the rest of their days in pieces. Oops, I mean peace.

Much like the latest bobble-head celebutante, I need to purge [my closet] in order to feel free of the chains of 2006. Said purging is a necessary evil. And must be done to make room for new inhabitants, like that sweet pink chiffon blouse I got on sale for $9.99 CDN.

Closet, I hope you understand that as painful as this is, it hurts me more than it does you. And not just because you are an inanimate object devoid of any feelings. Although, that is a big reason.

In love and war,


Wednesday, December 27, 2006

Kissing Balls and Other Things Not To Be Talked About At the Office

A girl at work was selling kissing balls for the holiday season for the great price of $10 per ball. (If you don't know what kissing balls are for god's sake don't look it up on Google without the moderate safe search enabled).

A guy I work with went home and told his wife that he wanted kissing balls for his birthday being sold by a girl at work, and that they were $10 per ball. His wife bluntly told him she didn't care that it was his 50th birthday, she wasn't doing that. (Obviously she did a Google search without the moderate safe search on).

A true story. Also one that should not be talked about too much at work unless you want your productivity (and quite possibly a performance evaluation) to be effected.

Sometimes you might hit the afternoon slump at work, and feel a little energy drained. While it is suggested to pour yourself a nice herbal green tea, it is not suggested to send an email to a male friend about said kissing ball story because it doesn't lead to productivity.

Most likely it will lead to other suggestive topics, not limited to French cheek kissing, Russia and Roseanne Barr. It will also result in one or both parties splashing their faces with cold water and definately not lead to any work being done.

So that you don't fall prey to this type of workplace distraction, I have assembled a list...

The Top Ten Things Not To Be Discussed At Work (unless you work from home you lucky *******):
- Coco Puffs
- Sean Connery or James Bond movies
- Cinnamin buns
- Showering
- Monkeys
- Monkey wrenches
- Bar wenches
- All that athletic ass-slapping that goes on in football
- Italy
- David Beckman

This is not an exhaustive list but should get you started. Or not started as the case may be.

P.S. You're welcome ;)

[Post Blog Post Note: Kissing balls are a big ol' ball of garland type materials - like a ball of misletoe but bigger, and made from spruce boughs, etc. You can also make them out of flowers. Anything really. Except maybe not pudding.]

Friday, December 22, 2006

Coming Soon To A Blog Near You...

I've been out of the loop for a bit trying to get everything ready for Christmas - baking yummy treats, shopping, wrapping presents, and then there was that unfortunately incident with one of Santa's helpers at the mall...

But I digress.

I have some good** blog posts in the works and will get to them as soon as I can, and for as long as the wine lasts. Here's some of the shameless writings you can look forward to:
- Kissing Balls, and Other Things Not To Be Talked About At the Office
- Sweet Dreams #2 (which oddly enough involves an elephant)
- Top 10 Things to Tell Relatives Over the Holidays When Asked About Your Love Life
- The Secret
- Ryan Patrick: The Cutest MacNeil Brother

Until then, Happy Holidays from all of us here at the Redhead-Next-Door. Ok, there's just me here. But I'm sending lots of cheer - may all your holiday wishes come true! Yes, even THAT one.

**Good is a subjective opinion and may not be shared by all readers.

Saturday, December 09, 2006

Things That Make You Go Hmmmmm... #2

On Thursday I travelled to a neighboring "city" for a meeting. A group of young professionals were getting together to hear some highers up speak about succession management. This was the first of these "young professional" events I had attended so I wasn't sure what to expect. The only thing I did know was I wanted to sit at a table located near the back of the conference room (in case I wanted to make a quick retreat back to my office).

Starting time for the session was 9am, so when I arrived at 8:59am (after a quick pit stop at the ladies room) there were only three seats left. Two were at the back table (good), but there was a problem (not good). Seated at that table was a totally cute guy. I can hear you now..."and this is a problem why?"

For one, Regular Erika is a smart, witty, pretty girl. Put her next to a hot guy and Erika becomes a blumbling, rambling, mess. Messy Erika let's call her. Regular Erika would normally take a seat at another table, thus avoiding the cute guy and any possibility of making a love connection. Obviously this is one of the reasons (on a long list) why I don't meet many single guys. I'm too busy avoiding them.

But something was different on Thursday. I was feeling different. Could have been the "I'm feeling lucky" thong I had on. Could have been the Shreddies I ate for breakfast. I decided to go for it.

I sat down. Made chit chat with everyone at the table (including him), shook hands (including his). He was tall, broad shoulders, oh so rugged looking, had really really great brown hair and a mischievious twinkle in his eye. Even better, no wedding ring. So, I did that whole flirty lowered eyes, look up and smile combo that Glamour is always going on about as a tried and true method of "come hither big boy". I could picture this guy building something with his bare hands (ok, and a hammer).

The session starts.

And then out of freaking nowhere...

Another cute guy sits down at our table. Initial reaction - panic! Ok, ok...breathe. Breathe. You are ok. You are smart, witty and pretty. You can rhyme. Two cute guys are no problem.

Guy #2 was cute in a totally different way. He was tall and lanky, with blonde curly hair and a
mischievious twinkle in his eye. There was a ring there, it might be a wedding ring, it might not. So, I did that whole flirty lowered eyes, look up and smile combo that Glamour is always going on about as a tried and true method of "come hither big boy". I could picture this guy kayaking down a raging river with his bare hands (ok, and a paddle).

After all that eye lowering and looking and smiling (while trying to fain interest in mentoring) I really needed to pee. Then again, it could have been the three cups of coffee I drank to calm my nervousness. Still distracted by the eye candy at my table, I ducked out of the conference room to go to the ladies room.

I think I actually broke into a mad dash (I have a petitie bladder ok). I barreled into the washroom. And thought to myself, hmmm, I don't remember the ladies room having a blue color scheme...or urinals. What the ****? Urinals! I was in the men's washroom.

Initial reaction - panic! Ok, ok...breathe. Breathe. You are ok. You are smart, witty and pretty. You can rhyme. Being in the men's washroom is no problem.

Calmly, I spun on my black stiletto heels and leapt out the door. Luckily no one was looking.

When I returned to my table I picked right up where I left off.

Regular Erika - you go girl!

[Bloggers Note: None of the
flirty lowered eyes, look up and smile combo that Glamour is always going on about as a tried and true method of "come hither big boy" actually resulted in a date request. I plan on not renewing my subscription of Glamour, you know, after this year].

Let's Play "Six Weird Things About Me"

I've been tagged by Sean (who is so NOT getting a Christmas present from me this year ;)

Here's how this little game works...

"According to the rules, each player of this game starts with the title "Six Weird Things About Me." People who get tagged need to write a blog of their own six weird things and state this rule clearly. In the end, you need to choose six people to be tagged and list their names. Don't forget to leave a comment that says, 'You are tagged!' in their comments and tell them to read your blog!"

For the record, I am not tagging anyone (much like Amy opted to do). And will try to throw in a few extra weird-isms as a consolation prize. Yes, I am the girl who does not forward that email within 5 minutes to 10 of friends or risk bad luck for the rest of my life. Those emails stress me out (hmmm..this could be on my list). Unlike Amy, I doubt I can come up with 42 weird-isms.

If I was tagging (which I'm not) I would definately include Marvo, Peter, Grins, Hannah, Mark and my sister Kirsten.

So, let's get going shall we.

Six Weird Things About Me (Or as I like to call it, what makes me unique :)
- I got my first (and only) cavitity at the age of 23.
- I have to tint my eyebrows/ eyelashes every few weeks or risk looking like I was involved in a fire because my lashes/brows are freakisly invisable.
- When I sign a document, I write with the paper sideways.
- I wear purple-framed glasses (like the ones pictured at right, only a bit smaller, and purple).
- I broke my ring finger on my right hand playing an agressive game of balloon volleyball and had to be taken to the hospital. It took at least 5 minutes for the ER doctor to stop laughing.
- I am afraid of balloons, like really really afraid. They make me throw myself into the arms of the first man I see. You can imagine how much fun I am at children's birthday parties.

Wow - that was strangely quite easy.

Here's a few bonus weirdisms:
- I'm only 5"6 and 3/4's but I wear heels (99 % of the time) so people think I'm a lot taller than I really am. Heels easily add 3 inches to my height.
- I think Rowan Atkinson aka Mr. Bean is sexy.
- If I could guest star on any soap, it would be Coronation Street.
- I've never dated a guy with blond or red hair.
- I'm obsessed with cleaning (don't analyze it, it's a good obsession unlike my fixation with slogan t-shirts and 3-ply napkins).
- My middle name is 10 letters long.
- Some days, I don't even brush my hair before I go to work - I just put a bit of pomade in it and tousle for a sexy just-rolled-out-of-bed look. Surprisingly, this is when I get most of my hair compliments. Apparently, effortless is sexy.
- Sometimes I wonder if I have undiagnosed Tourettes syndrome. Usually I am in the car or talking to my coworker Rowan when this happens.

Ta-da! There you have it. An intimate look into [some of] the weirdisms of the Redhead-Next-Door. What? Did you think I was perfect? Oh wait, that was me...

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Waiter, I'll Have A Salad

"In the vegetable garden of love, which veggie best sums up your single's attitude?" Yes, it's thought provoking questions like these [posed by LavaLife's online dating magazine] that keep me up at night pondering the answer to singleville's little questions. It's right up there with "if you were an animal what would you be?" Ok, I have been known to ask guys this pre-first date, but only to sort out the labs from the dobermins, er...I mean sort out the gentlemen from the weirdos or certifiably insane.

So let's get to it shall we?

Here's my summary (so you can avoid reading the whole article - you'll thank me). And in true Redhead-Next-Door style, I've added in some of my own comments and suggestions for people attracted to these vegetables. I mean people.

The Mushroom:
Pros: You have a versatile, diverse outlook, dry sense of humor, cute-as-a-button temperament, not shy in bed and love making mastery has been known to cause hallucinations and fantasies
Cons: Earthy mysteriousness (not to be mistaken as earthy mustiness), potentially bad roots
Suggestions: Deodorant and frequent visits to hair salon, limit walks in woods
Warning: Mushrooms may cause fantasies

The Cucumber:
Pros: You keep things real and raw in a relationship (hopefully this does not include cooking meals), shape of body can arouse people from across the room much like the effect Austin Power's mojo has on women with names that sound like naughty-bits
Cons: Can appear standoffish, tough, thick-skinned exterior, you play it cool
Suggestions: Always cook meat until well done, use lotion to soften tough skin
Warning: Austin Powers-like effect

The Potato:
Pros: Chill-axin' kind of person, take note - have eyes in the back of your head
Cons: A bit of a homebody, somewhat lazy in the sack, have an attitude for every occasion
Suggestions: Make potato salad, the spicy kind.
Warning: Anything that conjurs the phrase "chill-axin'" can't be good

The Pea:
Pros: A total people person (as opposed to a half a people person – I’ll spare you by not naming which half). Like smaller, tight quarters as opposed to massive ones (i.e. nightclub). Sweet, cuddly personality.

Accused of being a close talker, occasionally snap [at lovers who get too mushy about the relationship]. You keep things fresh and crisp.
Who cares?
Objects in mirror are even closer in real life than they appear.

The Onion
Injects pearls of wisdom into exuberant 5 minute talks in crowded rooms.
Cons: Dramarama! Love to make dates laugh and cry. Can be tricky getting to know the sweet, juicy core behind your layered exterior.
Wear less layers – I know it’s winter but a turtleneck and a sweater? Forgetaboutit!
Leaves crowds exhausted, much like reading this blog post.

The Carrot
Pros: No-strings attached kind of person, fiery, showy/ colourful personality [read: not good looking], speak your mind.
Cons: No-strings-attached kind of person, has a tendency to stew about things.
Suggestions: Instead of stew, try meatballs. Make ‘em spicy.
Warning: Paper bag might be required.

The Asparagus
Spring is your favorite season, when new love blossoms so easily <**gag**>. Believe yourself to be sexually spectacular. Have a natural breaking point when clinginess starts to set in. Keep a tight bunch of friends, and depend on them to keep you in line.
Lovers tell you that whiffs of your musky love permeate them the day after.
Showers (for you and your lovers), and maybe some new friends.
Avoid spring unless on a constant diet of Gravol.

Despite LavaLife's neat little pros and cons (and my witty suggestions/warnings) dare I say that I'd rather date a combination of veggies, and not one in particular (though the mushrooms are tempting). Therefore, I guess my single's attitude is having a soft spot for a salad-type lad. If such a salad exists. I mean guy. I wonder what the options are for dressing? Waiter, don't forget the cheese!

Answering Your Burning Questions

Today's question comes from Amy.

She writes: "What are Tangy Tarts?"

My answer: "Only the best sugary tarty sour sweetness you've ever tasted!"


[Bloggers Note: I couldn't find a pic of Tangy Tarts, so here's a pic of Zingy Zaps which are actually my number one favorite candy.]

Saturday, December 02, 2006

Red Light District Christmas

At work we're having a cubicle decorating contest. No wait, it gets better.

Prizes will be awared in 3 categories: "pretty", "tacky" and "funny". We threw "funny" in there because let's face it, what guy is going to want to do it for the "pretty"? Exactly.

So I decided (naturally) to go for the funny category because:
a) I'm funny (and apparently have a healthy self-esteem)
b) I like competing with the guys and then saying "who-ya!" when I win.

Then I got to thinking...what's funny about Christmas? Sure, immaculate conception. But not funny enough. Grandma getting run over by a reindeer. But it's been done to death [ahem]. Uncle Arnold getting sauced and then proclaiming he's drinking a warm cup of piss when really it's apple cidar. Hmmm, getting warmer [tee hee].

And then, it came to me...prostitutes!

What WOULD Christmas be like in the Red Light District? At least, in the extreme made up version because the harsh cold reality (much like being single during the holidays) is way too depressing.

I strung up some red icicle lights around the top of my cubcile (only half of them work which is so perfect). I placed a sad little spruce tree (think Charlie Brown) with pop can tabs and sugars packets for decorations at the entrance to my cubicle. Under neath the lights, I put two knee-high fishnet stockings (sugar plum in color). Beside the stockings...the piece de la resistance! I posted this little diddy that I wrote:

A Red Light District Christmas
Twas the night before Christmas
And all through the streets
Not a creature was sturring, not even the deadbeats
The fishnet stockings were flung on the floor without care
In hopes that Nick soon would be there
To be continued...

I figure I'll write a bit more each week, with the whole story being completed by Christmas vacation.

I began "Operation Red Light District Christmas" at 4:30pm yesterday, after most of the staffers went home; so it will be a surprise when they get in on Monday. I'm out of the office Monday and Tuesday, so hopefully I have a job to come back to.

[Post Blog Note: Nicky if you're reading this, Nick is short for St. Nick so don't go getting any ideas]