Cul De Sacked

Besides starting a new job this week I've also been blessed with the added stress of househunting. We still don't have a buyer for Paul's place so we're shacked up in his ultra cosy 2-bedroom condo (all 1197 square feet of it).

We looked at 3 houses. We learned a lot. Observe.

Top 10 Ways to Tell You Shouldn't Buy A House If...
1. The walls are painted green apple green (except the master bathroom which is a bright sailor blue)
2. Backyard fence is held up by 2 x 4 planks nailed to the house for support
3. Smells like dog and/or cat piss
4. Five-year old neighborhood children are flashing gang signs at you as you roll up curb side
5. Smells like cigarette and/or pot smoke
6. Only landscaping done on the property by previous owners was cultivating their grow-op
7. Your screaming, arguing, kids are the quiet ones on the street
8. There's multicolored built-in shelves made out of unfinished wood...in every room in the house
9. Closet in the master bedroom has a padlock on the outside of the door...and yup, built in shelves. Could have been home to Harry Potter.
10. The real estate agent says "I'll just wait for you outside while you look around"

Single Girl On A Saturday Night: The Ugly Sweater Party

As you know, I like to pirate ideas from fellow bloggers and today's post is no exception! The "Single Girl On A Saturday Night" is a regular feature on Amy's blog. And yes, I do realize it's Sunday already.

Last night my sister Kirsten and I went to an Ugly Sweater Party.

We spent a small chunk of time (quite possibly 60 minutes in total) at three different second-hand stores in a quest to find the ugliest of the ugly to wear.

We found a strong contender at our first stop - a flowered synthetic thingy. And best of all, there were 6 identical sweaters so Kirsten and I could do the "twin thing" which we haven't done since university (probably because we're not actually twins). Unfortunately, the sweaters were $12 each (a bit pricey for second-hand even if they were Tommy Hilfiger and still had the price tags on.) I tried my best to wheel-and-deal offering to take both for $10 total. The shop keeper disappeared out back for a minute and returned to announce that $7 each was as low as she could go and still make money. So we pulled the old "we'll think about it" routine.

Two shops later, we'd found something suitable (in ugliness and in price). My pick was a retina-burning blue and baby diarrhea green striped pullover with smaller lines of mustard yellow thrown in. My sister literally stumbled upon a low cut greenish blueish knit sweater that tied at the elbows, and resembled something a bar wench would have sported back in the 1700's...

We were able to take our time getting ready (a rarity with the kids). Kirsten assisted with my hair which she hasn't done since university (I didn't know it could defy gravity like that). And I didn't even get burned by the curling iron.

My sis even offered to do my makeup too but I'm still scared from when she did a practise run through of my makeup for my wedding 10 years ago - she wanted to achieve a "different" color and opted to add a touch of eyeshadow to the gloss. My lips ended up stained black and goopy. So, I maned the makeup brushes myself. Not that I'm completely hopeless and don't know what I'm doing or anything.

People put some great thought into their sweaters! One guy (who shall remain nameless) wore a black women's sweater, complete with beading and baubles and sequins on the front. Funny part is, he pulled it off, and looked radiant. I never thought I'd say that about a man. The host (a lanky 6"3+ guy) sported a women's cream cashmere belted cardian which made him look like a pimp, albeit, a very soft one.

It was a great time. And gave everyone a great opening line - "That's one ugly sweater!"

I ended up becoming quite attached to my sweater which I was alble to pull off with a sunny yellow collared polo shirt and jeans. In fact, I got lots of compliments.

I guess ugly really is in the eye of the beholder.

Ta-Dah...I'm In Love!

I can't keep it secret any longer. I am in love.

And you will be too.

Just run out and buy the new Scissor Sister's CD so appropriately named "Ta-Dah". Hey after all, if it's good enough for Elton John to guest "play" on then you know it's gotta be something to give a listen to. But seriously...

Sporting catching song titles like, "She's My Man", "Kiss You Off", "Ooh" and "Paul McCartney" the song lyrics are surprisingly naughty (though you may have to read the inner jacket to figure it out). Other times things take a brief turn for dark during tunes like "The Other Side".

Ofcourse, the uber popular single "I Don't Feel Like Dancing" is also included, and despite the title, will definately make you feel like dancing.

And I'm sure the slapstick vodville sounding "I Can't Decide" is about my ex-husband. Shhhh....

If all 12 songs were ice cream, none of them would be the same flavour. We're talking Chocolate, Very Berry Blast AND Moon Mist. There's no Vanilla here folks. Tracks like "Lights" feature Bee Gees inspired disco-esque beats, enticing even the most hardened criminal into doing the hustle. No, not THAT hustle, the dance. "Ooh" will have you doing the running man...guaranteed. "Intermission" sounds like it could have been featured on The Beatles "Sgt. Pepper".

I mean, look at them - don't they look like they know how to have fun?

Point blank, this CD is a drag queen beauty pagent, fashion show runway and dance party all rolled into one. It's so good that it should come with a warning (or at least you should warn your neighbors) that listening to this CD will result in extreme dancing. Perhaps you might want to close those blinds!

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 die...er, 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,

Erika

Office Prank #2: Show Me The Monkey

On Thursday, a local vendor came to pick up his wares.

He travels around the local offices with books, toys, etc. for sale. Some time ago he had brought a toy monkey with stretchy arms that could be used as a sling-shot to sail through the air while making monkey screeching noises. Rowan wanted to purchase said-monkey but the vendor came and picked up the merchandise before he had the opportunity.

Well, on Thursday, the monkey was back. And Rowan had his money at the ready. I was on training in the Hub city and arrived back at the office, unaware of what purchases had transpired in my absence.

After chucking my purse and leather tote on my desk, I could hear Rowan's voice saying "Is she back?" Next thing I remember is a monkey sailing through the air and hitting me in the head.

[fade to moneky screeching sounds...]

I'm chatting to some cubicle mates when I realize there's something going on behind me. It's the monkey, and Rowan is dancing it on the top of my cubcile. I lunge for it. Rowan pulls back holding tightly to the monkey, who's arms are beginning to stretch and is screeching for all he's worth (the monkey, not Rowan). Rowan, not wanting to rip his moneky in two, let's go. Faster than you can say, "Monkey's Uncle" I shoved the monkey up the back of my shirt. Rowan enters my cubicle.

"Where is he?" Rowan asks. Staffers are really hooting at this point.
"I don't know" I say coyely sitting in my chair. "I don't have him."
Rowan begins looking throughout my cubicle for his monkey.
"I don't have him." I say.
"Stand up" he said smiling.
I stand up but since the moneky's arms are under the back of my bra strap, the monkey stays put. And Rowan moves on to look elsewhere assuming I gave it to someone else to hide.

The next day, I put the following note on Rowan's computer screen.

Dear Mr. Monkey’s Around,

Your favorite stuffed toy is currently being held for ransom.

It is partly because being hit in the head with a flying screeching monkey is not fun.

If you follow these instructions, you will be rewarded with more than bananas**; you’ll get your monkey back. Frankly, your monkey is not easy to handle and I look forward to washing my hands.

#1: Sing the phrase “good morning” to every staffer you encounter today (up until 10 o’clock am
#2: Anytime someone says your name, respond with “Eek Eek Eek” in true monkey fashion. Bonus points if you scratch your arm pits.
#3: If you are asked a question, you can only respond with the phrase “This **** is bananas”. Questions from the Ivory Tower are exempt. [this is what we call our head office where the big wigs work]

If you do not follow these instructions, well…Planet of the Apes is recruiting for their next installment. We have ears. Not big ears like your, er…monkey. Yeah, that’s it. Monkey. We’ll be listening.

DO NOT involve the authorities or you’ll be sorry (sorry like Davy Jones when the Monkees recorded “Tapioca Tundra”) but I digress.

Insincerely,

Cha. Key. Ta. Banana

PS. My apologies if you couldn’t sleep last night without your bedtime companion.

**Please note bananas are not actually included with the monkey’s return**

My coworker Laura put a banana in Rowan's mailslot with a sticky note attached saying "please help me".

It was completely coincidental that one of the specialists from head office made an appearance. Rowan was telling her someone stole his monkey (apparently not concerned how it looked for a grown man to have a toy monkey) and he stopped at my cubicle. I began talking, saying his name as many times as possible in a sentence to see if he'd do step #2 as part of the ransom demand. But instead, he just blushed. The rest of the office laughed uncontrollably. I'm sure the specialist made a note to herself to test the air quality in our office.

Following lunch, I emailed this picture of the monkey to Rowan (courtesy of the office scanner):



Laura put a milk carton in the middle of the office, with a picture of the monkey on it with the caption "Have you seen this monkey? If you have information call Rowan at [Rowan's phone number]. Reward offered."

Rowan stopped by several times to ask for his monkey back. I informed him, that a couple little "Eek eek" eeks was all it would take and he could have him back. He said, "I don't negotiate with with..." he was lost for words. "Terrorists?" I offered.

To top off the prank, I emailed him a recipe for Monkey Balls, a breakfast dish that I thought sounded yummy and was considering cooking over the holiday weekend.

In the end Rowan got his monkey back. You can imagine the number of references to Rowan's monkey that were used throughout the day. There was more to the prank but it was a "you had to be there" or Lord of the Flies kind of thing. Needless to say, the whole office is super impressed with my pranking abilities. Now I need to keep one eye open at all times. Because I know Rowan is going to try to get me back for this one. But I doubted he'll top this one.