The Year in Review

January - Mr. Head and I broke up, then got back together, and I turned 28.

February- I found a video I had been searching for since the 80's, I spilled my guts in 20 sentences, and Mr. Head and I broke up for good.

March - I was extremely depressed and lonely and suffering from panic attacks, all the while, still getting out and partying with my wonderful girlfriends and enjoying the early spring.

April - My car was stolen, I landed a new job, and I started starting over.

May - I was getting ready for the arts festival, I was attracted to some younger men, I got an invite to my 10 year class reunion, Hobbsley came back to town, and I was almost done mending my broken heart.

June - Had a brief encounter with Kevin MacDonald, day 90 passed me by, I fell in love with the Dresden Dolls, I spent a night in Wilkie, and I bought a new car, just so I could go on a camping trip.

July- the heat was intense, I saw the Golden Dogs, my cat ran away, our 10th annual Canada Day camping trip was a success, and we were all doing better than Nick Shilloff.

August - my cousin Pat died, I was seeing flying squirrels, we hosted a Dead Celebrity Party at the House of Pain, Folk Fest was a blast, and I realized that not only was summer too short, but so was life, so I might as well enjoy the fuck out of it.

September - I began my 5 on the 2-5, Smyrish officially became my boyfriend, I contemplated my journey to thirty, we all talked about how scary it is to have your period show up late, I went camping in Craven, and the end of summer lazies kicked in.

October - I was happy. Burned out, but really happy. Halloween was a blast, and I also met Madame Diva.

November - We won the Grey Cup, Knuckle Toes turned the legal drinking age, Micha Barton started hangin 'round The Pub, I got to see Modest Mouse, and I felt stuck in the past, thinking of my lost journals, my dad, and old romances.

December - my boobs grew, as did my waist line, I got my Xmas shopping done earlier than ever, and the whole gang went to Small Town for Xmas.

And that's that. Sure, there was much more that went on, but hey, a re-cap is just that, a re-cap. My memories will just have to fill in the blanks to this roller coaster year.

Boxing Day

T'was another fine SmallTown Xmas. We ate more than our bodies wanted us to, we drank no more than our seasoned livers could handle, and we even got in some tobogganing and fresh air at The Lake. We played Scrabble and Trivial Pursuit, opened presents, visited the cousins, and took in a "Family Feud" marathon on the television. Smyrish and Film Star even wandered into an old abandoned school, and accidentally got a nice photo of a ghost. And of course, we all got some deadly fucking presents.

Overall, it was a nice little holiday, and it was especially nice to have Knuckle Toes and Smyrish join us.


Next year, I hope that we can get together with AJ and her clan as well, 'cause I missed them terribly, but at least they phoned to sing to us our family Xmas medley.

And now, it's time to finish the laundry, make the leftovers into a stir fry, and get ready to meet the ladies at The Pub for the "ugly xmas sweater party", as they were nice enough to offer to buy this poverty-stricken lassie a pint or two.

Hope y'all had a nice Festivus!

Xmas Eve in the Drunk Tank

I know it's not Xmas Eve yet, but I may not have a chance to post again. This is my favorite Xmas song, hands down.

Have a good holiday, readers. Cheers!

Xmas is Coming.

Two more sleeps, and I'll be loading up the car with gifts and family, and heading to Small Town. I am not as anxious/grouchy/depressed as I usually am this time of year, so here's hoping I stay that way.

I am not much of a Christmas person. I hate shopping. Driving in the winter scares the bejeesus outta me. There are always a hundred things to do, and two hundred people to see, all in one week, and I never feel as if I can accomplish all the visiting, eating, driving and whatnot in such a short span of time and without at least three anxiety attacks. My brother GQ and I cannot handle being in the same space for more than 20 minutes, before we want to kill each other. I never seem to have enough money for gifts, gasoline, and nights out with out of town visitors, nevermind New Year's. I have the amazing ability to gain at least 15 pounds in two days, leaving me without pants for the new year.

Some people can't wait for Boxing Day, myself, I pray that January 2nd will show up faster than a lightening bolt.

It's not all bad though. I really do like seeing people that I don't get to see as often as I'd like. I get to see my family and old friends, most of whom, I only see this one time in any given year. Good food abounds, and the beer flows like wine. I am sure that this years road-trip and family gathering will be a hoot, and when it's all over and done with, I get to go out dancing on Boxing Day, to burn off some steam.

Have a Merry Festivus everyone!

Bodacious

The uber-fabulous Madame Diva awarded me with the "Bodacious Blog" award. I must say, I am truly humbled.

Bodacious is defined as, according to dictionary.com:

1. thorough; blatant; unmistakable: a bodacious gossip.
2. remarkable; outstanding: a bodacious story.
3. audacious; bold or brazen.

Here's what she had to say about me, and why I deserved this wonderful award:

"When I think of Brazen, I think of this lady...who not only goes braless in the summer, but bottomless too!!"

Isn't that sweet?

I Heart These Internets.

I spent a bit too much time on the Interweb today, but I did find a few interesting things. If you are like me, and have nothing to do tonight except whine about how sore your ears and head are and watch really, truly bad television for hours on end, take a break for a few minutes, and check out my blog crushes for the day.

Bob Lefsetz wrote a wonderful, heart-wrenching post about the death of Dan Fogelburg, and how his songs make him reminisce about his own life.

The Nervous Axon, got me thinking about my music collection, and what it means to me.

Miss.Nicola, has me thinking about getting my colon cleansed of the twenty pounds of compacted shit it is no doubt harbouring. If Jack Osbourne can do it, why can't I?

As well as perusing blogs, I also perused some Etsy shops, which in the end, just made me act like a big pissy pants, because I can't have my own shop too. The only one I'm going to plug here however, is my friend B-Rock, who has some amazing prints for sale over at brockphotography.
Come on, go buy some!

Well that's all folks, I'm leaving the 'puter for the night. The sex toys will be being delivered soon-ish, and hopefully, I'll be too busy to be playing around here.

Meme, Meme, Meme

I can't even remember who tagged me for this. I have a list of meme's I have been tagged for, to bring out on days such as this, when I can't come up with much to say, but I feel like writing, and DejaView is doing a better job of holding my attention that the InterWeb. I am positive that I have done one of these before, but hey, I have a ton of strange things to tell y'all about myself. The list could go on and on for eternity.

The Rules Of The Meme:

Each player makes a list of eight random facts/habits about themselves.

At the end of your list, choose eight people to to tag and list their names.

Leave them a comment on each of their websites to let them know that they have been tagged.

The people tagged will write a post on their own website about their eight things, post these rules, and tag eight others.

1. I was a tad disappointed this past summer, when not one of my sunburns peeled. I love spending an evening tearing my skin off my shoulders and back until there's a nasty kink in my neck.

2. When people talk about their stocks, mutual funds, computers or technology, I usually only hear the teacher's voice from Charlie Brown. Whaw, whaw, whaw, whaawww.

3. I rarely wear underwear when the temperature is above +25 degrees Celsius. My butt sweats too much. On days when it seems semi-appropriate, I leave the bra off too. I hate having sweaty boobs. Actually, I am just all around, one very sweaty person.

4. Even in the winter, I like to sleep with my window open.

5. When I was a kid, I used to have a recurring dream that the stairs in the house were all falling apart, and I was stuck on the landing, between two enormous, human-like strawberries. They scared me, but they kept me from falling into the abyss that was the main floor hallway.

6. I can only be crafty and creative when the mood strikes me. If I don't do anything right then and there, the creativity leaves me, and I won't be able to do anything. I have to be prepared, because at any given moment, I may just have to drop everything, to sew, write, what have you.

7. Answering machines make me nervous. I either ramble on, wishing I would have written a script, or the message is quick and short, and doesn't explain anything properly. At least I am not like GQ, who leaves 20 minute long messages, that consist of many "Hmmmm's" and "Hawws" and smokers coughs.

8. I am positive I only passed grade eleven chemistry, because I promised the teacher that I would never take a science class again, if he would just give me 50%. I am also positive I only passed grade 12 biology (in grade eleven), because my godfather was the teacher, and he was doing me and my family a favor, by getting me one credit closer to moving out of the house.

Note: I will not tag today. If you would like to play along, please do so, but I won't force you.

Me and my Breasts

My boobs grew again. Seriously, I finally had a nice collection of proper fitting bra's, and now, all of them are too tight, and if I don't stuff myself into place properly, I end up with the much sought after "four boob" look, which is oh so (not) sexy. It's like my body doesn't know that I am almost thirty, and puberty was over long ago. They just keep bumping up a cup size every year. You would think, that if my tits thought that they were teenagers, they would be all perky and whatnot too, but nope, gravity is winning that battle.

I know that to all you flat-chested people out there, I must sound like one of those skinny girls that goes on and on about how fat they are. But believe me, some days I think that I'd sell my soul to have some perky 34 B's.

My breasts and I have always had a bit of a love/hate relationship. When I didn't have them, I wished I did, because I so wanted to grow up, and look more like a woman than a little boy. But then, all of a sudden, I got my wish, and all those dreams of looking like a woman went away in a flash.

I'll never forget the day that my mom took me into the bathroom and measured my chest, because it was time to get a bra. When the bra arrived, I tried it on, and stared at myself in the mirror for hours. I felt like I had been chained up in a dungeon against my will. My mom and I had many arguments over my not wanting to wear the damn thing. In the end, she usually won out, because I knew she was right, but it was just so embarrassing. All the girls at school my age, who wore bras were taunted by the boys daily. Getting my bra straps snapped, and having crude comments thrown my way, was not something I wanted to endure on a daily basis.

When I was 14, all the boys in my class started to notice how big I was getting, and mocked me incessantly. A teacher took them all aside, and gave them royal hell about it, and they stopped. That was, until, they realized they could tease me about my big "arms", and have no one notice that it was code word for "boobs". To this day, there are text books in my old school that have "Abigail has big arms!" written in them. (Of course, this gave me a complex about my fat arms, that I still deal with to this day.)

Eventually, I accepted the fact that I was going to have huge knockers, and found out that they could be used to my advantage in more ways than one. Showing off a little cleavage could be fun, and attention could be nice.

A few years ago, I made the decision to get them reduced. They are not the biggest melons ever, but they're too big for me. I figured, once I had decided if I was going to have kids or not, and had those kids, I was heading to the doctor to get the process moving. Having my boobs grow again, has reinforced that decision, even though the thought of surgery, or losing a nipple, scares the crap out of me. I just don't want to be 60 years old, with my girls bigger than my head, draggin' on the floor. Believe me, that's where I'm headed. I am destined to be an old Ukrainian baba, inside and out. Not that I mind all that much, but what can I say, old baba boobs just aren't on my wish list.

Now, I dream of a day when I can go bra-shopping without breaking the bank, having the option to buy "sexy" over "functional", or having to figure out how to get the unnecessary padding out of the real pretty bras that I would love to wear.

7 Good Things About Today.

For reasons I cannot talk about here, due to my confidentiality agreement at work, my day did not start out all that well. Let's just say that I can drive under intense pressure, without spilling a drop of my gas station coffee. By the time I got home, I was exhausted, and retired to the couch to watch "What Not to Wear". I vowed to never leave the couch until Friday when I went back to work. But, I perked up, and my day got better.

A nice hot shower and clean clothes helped me feel a bit more alert, and less like a smelly hobo.

Grocery shopping with Smyrish, is always an adventure.

I cooked a pot roast for supper, along with green bean casserole, stuffing, steamed carrots, wild rice, and of course, gravy.

I had a bubble bath, and a glass of wine or three.

I got my CSI fix for the day. Two hours of Grissom, always makes me happy and scrappy.

Smyrish and I sat together and wrote Xmas cards to our friends and family, while having a schnick, of course. Some of my Xmas cards, are a little bit silly thanks to the wine. I hope those who receive them, can appreciate my I'm-a-little-bit-tipsy Xmas humour.

Mr. Head and I had a nice chat over the Interweb.

And now, I am having a beer, watching "Family Business", and perusing my friends Etsy shops. (One day, I will actually purchase.)

For a day that started out so craptastically, it sure did turn out pretty swell. Now if only Aunt Flo would move along, life would be grand.

(PMS apology card available at www.knuckletoes.etsy.com)

Bah Hum-Bitch

Myself, and those around me, survived a day of Xmas shopping at the mall, and at Walmart. How my friends put up with me, I'll never know, but I am grateful.

It was a long day. I woke up way too early to take a trip to the optometrist, who basically told me I am going blind, and I should have gone to see him three years ago. He did impress me though, by remembering where I worked and that I grew up in a train station, like the one in the picture he has hanging on the wall in the waiting room. I went home, and passed back out in bed in my clothes, and slept in for my Xmas shopping date.

I loathe the mall. All malls. Each and every one of them. Especially at Xmas. Most employees come off as fake and creepy, and my fellow shoppers give me the heebie jeebies with their perfect hair and clothes and their Christmas cheer. I am unable to actually look for clothes in the mall, because I am not a size 4, or a size double zero. Looking at all the cute clothes that I will never fit in, usually drives me to tears. But today, the promise of food court sukiyaki beef for lunch kept me going through the morning without too many instances of wanting to burst into tears. I actually got a few items crossed off my list, and all of the wandering about, helped me think of things I need to purchase outside of the mall on another day. Once our bellies were full of food court goodness, it was off to Walmart. I found a wonderful sewing machine that I will purchase myself after I figure out how to pay for new glasses and a winter coat first. Of course, we hit the liquor store on the way home, as it was wine o'clock.

I am going to spend my Friday evening getting the House of Pain in order for the girls night I am hosting tomorrow, followed by a glass of wine in a candlelight bath, and popcorn for a late supper.

Have a good weekend everyone!

She's Crafty, or So Say the Beastie Boys.

Entering Neil's Blogger Arts and Crafts Fair last week got me into the crafting mood. I've been busy the last week or so, making bags, figuring out how to use my friggin' buttonholer, and busting needles on the sewing machine.

This brown and white number, is a Xmas present for a friend, all it is missing is a Sex Pistols patch, that will be sewn on the pocket under the flap. (not shown) The material is so thick, I broke about 5 needles getting it together, so when I finally finished it last night, I actually hugged it. Smyrish, watching my odd behavior, asked if he could hug it too.

The blue plaid bag is mine, all mine. I thought I had used up all of this material this summer, when I sold all the bags I had made with it at the folk festival. I was really happy when I found some more in a garbage bag in my bedroom. I decided I was making one for me, because I'm a good girl, and I deserved it.


These two bags, were made from some old sheets that were donated to me for material. They are basically the same, with the exception of the handle, and the front pocket. They are a little too girly looking for me, but they have been hanging in my living room for a few days now, and have been complimented, so I'm going to keep them around for the festivals next year, unless I can sell them before then.


And on that note, I have to get back to cutting out squares for a corduroy patchwork bag I've been working on, and figure out how I am going to get my contracted work embroidered before Xmas.

Horoscope of Today.

You're all fired up over some issue that is much more meaningful to you than it is to almost anyone else. That's no reason not to fight your hardest for it -- but it may be tougher to get the kind of support you want.

The first sentence kicked my ass. It's so true.

Dream Land

All night I had the craziest dreams. It was like my brain was off in Opposite Land, where people who are jerks were super nice to me, the dead were alive and vice versa, and things that usually scare me were making me happy and excited. It was eight hours of living in Abigail's Parallel Universe, and by the time I awoke, I was glad that I didn't have to live there.

All the strange dreams, although I don't really remember them now, kind of set me off-kilter though. Especially the dream where I was 30 pounds lighter, and was wearing the most amazing brown suede boots and red jacket. I'm heading out for the day, and that outfit would have been perfect for traipsing about town.

That dream reminded me of a dream I had about 15 years ago. I had dreamt about wearing these funky blue clogs to a party, and the next morning I was looking for them in my closet, so I could wear them to school. It took me about thirty minutes before I realized that I didn't own those shoes, and I would just have to wear my regular old runners. It was a disappointing day.

And on that note, I better be getting dressed and ready to go and face my day. I think I'm in for a doozy.