I use to think I was a hopeless romantic; now I think I’m leaning more towards just hopeless 😉

I’m very proud of myself. I just changed a burnt out headlight bulb on my car.

By myself.

I know, I know. No big deal. And it isn’t really. It was super easy to do, although it was a bit of a bitch to unscrew, and I did singe my wrist just a wee bit in the process, but coming from a girl who doesn’t know anything about her car, it’s a pretty big step.

Next up: an oil change.

(By my mechanic ;))

Oh my word. I used “mayhaps” in a sentence with one of my co-workers and he immediately responded with “perbe”.

PERBE!

I think I might have a new favourite word.

I’m not sure what I think of commute.

I do know that it is longer than most of the other stuff I’ve written lately.

Perhaps hiding easter eggs around people’s desks on a thursday-that-feels-like-a-friday wasn’t the best way to keep us focused on our work.

It was however rather yummy.

I think if my office looked like this I would never get any work done.

But boy would it be fun.

Can someone explain to me how the high for one day can be lower than the low for the day before? Shouldn’t the low-highs at least come close to matching?

Really, this crazy weather is just out of control. First came snow, snow and more snow. Being Canada, you might expect such a thing. Surprisingly, we did not. Then we finally had a lovley little warmth-wave that melted the mountainous snow piles. Then just when we thought it was all over, the ice storm came. Then the snow storm. Yesterday we were out in shorts and some people actually had their air conditioning on. Two days from now we are expecting ice again. We had people visiting our office from California last week and I think they were beginning to believe the stereotypes about snow in the summertime.

Whatever happened to April showers that bring May flowers?

Heh heh. Somehow, my email program got messed up and started moving to the beat of the CD I was listening to – which happened to be Propellerheads. Picture a dj scratching a disk, then picture your email moving like that, and you’ll get an idea of why this has been the highlight of my monday morning.

Listen to Take California at Amazon to get a sense of the whole picture.

What is it about mice that make them seem so very … germy?

My latest two mice (two mice in two weeks – they are coming in under my kitchen cupbooards) have at least been smart enough to exit the trap after a gentle tap or two and have not required the vigorous shaking that the first mouse did.

Being the mature, twenty-something young adults that we are, my friends and I decided to get together for a nice dinner on friday night.

At Chuck. E. Cheese.

First: Never go to a “kids” restaurant on a friday night. Entirely too many children hogging all the fun games like Skee Ball and the little basketball game. The number of knee-biters far exceeded the recommended dose.

Second: Chuck E. Cheese is like a casino for kids. No, I take that back, it is a casino for kids. With the number of bells, whistles and flashing lights that accosted our eyes as we walked through the doors, it’s a wonder we weren’t blinded. I wouldn’t be surprised to find out that CEC has their paws deep in the casinos of Vegas. They are training them so young, they would want a piece of the real action.

It’s the perfect scam. Cigarette companies aren’t allowed to market to children because, well, it’s illegal, but also because kiddies have such imprssionable little minds. But Chuck E. Cheese? It’s “all in good fun”. At least until your child has hocked his G.I. Joes and is sitting on the couch, deaf and blinded by the lure of the tickets and the crunching sound the computerized ticket-eater makes as he gobbles up your winnings and counts them for you.