Lost in the land of styrofoam peanuts and lobsters

Whomever supplies those to the Bay, must be making a killing. Seriously.

I have a problem. A semi-serious problem. I can't get my house to stop smelling of lobster. Lobster is yummy, yes, but in no way aromatic. See, we had the gang over on Sunday night for a lobster BBQ, as Chris had been out east for the week and graciously brought back three of these oh so popular bottom feeders.

The dinner was delicious. Mike thought out some fantastic side dishes and we ate like kings. We then watched Brick, which is an amazing movie that everyone has to see. It will make you want to talk like you're in a film noir and it will be hard to resist the urge to teem with angst in every waking moment you have, but it's so awesome and worth it.

Sunday, a total, yummy success. But it lingers.

I've washed all the clothes, the sheets and the towels, washed the counters and the floors, fabreezed the fabrics I can't wash, lit candles and used aromatic home sprays (ick!)... Opened windows, emptied garbages... I even threw out a skirt which, even though I didn't wear on Sunday and I washed it twice, reeked of lobster because it was with the handtowels we'd used in the kitchen on Sunday in the hamper... And still the eau de lobster remains. Should I not be able to find a way to make the smell go away, I foresee me spending Saturday scouring my home with bleach.

What could the lobster smell have gotten into... Or maybe that's what angst smells like?

Today's sing-a-long song: "Rock Lobster" by The B-52s

HRH

A new-found respect

...Or as much respect as I can muster for strippers.

I am in pain today. An altogether different pain than last weekend (phew), but pain none the less.

Yesterday Natasha and Dawn planned a wonderfully fun "stagette" day for me. I was really smart in my bridesmaid choosing I have to tell you. Everything we've done has been fun and not at all embarrassing. Which is impressive since I spent two hours yesterday at a pole dancing class.

Natasha picked me up early yesterday afternoon with her only instructions being "bring workout clothes." So I did and she drove me to Flirty Girl Fitness, possibly the nicest fitness studio I've ever been to. The place was gorgeous and everyone was exceptionally nice. The three of us were signed up for a pole dancing class which the studio describes as "a phenomenal total body workout that builds fabulous muscle tone. Totally hot. Outrageously fun. Prepare to leave this class a Diva!"

And they were totally right. It was so much fun, but so much hard work. I used muscle groups I have possibly never used before and have a new appreciation for the physical strength involved in wrapping yourself around a pole gracefully and trying to look sexy at the same time. Not easy, but very fun to try to do, especially in the company of your best friends.

The rest of my stagette entailed a very yummy dinner in the company of even more friends, cocktails at the very posh Ultra Lounge and then we contemplated dancing at Velvet Underground, but the DJ wasn't feeling our vibe. Which is really fine, since two weeks from now I will get to be the DJ and dance to all the music I really want to hear.

So all in all, this whole pre-wedding girly stuff has been super awesome. Fun, classy, not uptight and I managed to make my way through it without having to be out in public wearing a veil covered in phalluses (we saw one girl wearing one last night, poor thing) nor having to enjoy the special humiliation that comes with having to wear all the bows from your presents on your head. Thank you to all, but primarily Dawn and Natasha, for making the lead to up the wedding so completely awesome.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Don't Cha" by The Pussycat Dolls

HRH

Ma'amed

It's one month to my 30th birthday. I've been really fortunate to have all this wedding planning and excitement to keep me busy, otherwise I think I would be miserable.

Turning 30 has not been something I've anticipated or approached with any kind of maturity or grace. I don't like it, I don't want to do it and the notion of it makes me sad. I like my youth and the flexibility it brings. Turning 30 seems like all kinds of things that I'm not interested in. Some that I am interested in, but a lot that I'm not.

Anyway, one month to go and lots of fun distraction that may help it pass without pain. I'm getting married to the most awesome person in the world and that makes me float on air. All floaty unless stuff like today keeps happening. When the staff at Starbucks shout to me "here's your tea Ma'am" I die a little on the inside.

Ugh.

HRH

Not very good at moderation

So shower season continued this week, with a wonderful one put on by my co-workers. Why it was so much fun that I suspect that I downed two bottles of Frixenet all on my own. I may have had help, I don't really remember. I do, however, hurt.

It usually takes me several months to regain my taste for drink after a hangover like this one. I have six days. Oh dear.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Flowers become screens"

HRH

Showered

Yesterday Dawn and Natasha threw me the most fantastic bridal shower. Eschewing the shower games that I'm not sure anyone actually enjoys, Dawn set up an afternoon high tea at The Fairmont Royal York hotel. Could it possibly be any more perfect?

It was the best afternoon and the perfect shower for me. My dear friends, sister, mother and future-mother-in-law shared a seriously delicious tea with me (my first time at high tea, if you can believe it) and then I was given some seriously awesome gifts. I've been nibbling on the leftovers I brought home from the tea all day and been reminiscing about the whole high tea experience.

I hope this has set the tone of the rest of the wedding experience, cause I still can't get over how wonderful it was.

Thank you all so very much!

HRH

The dumbest show on TV

So last weekend M and I were enjoying the hospitality of my parents and enjoying their various satellite television systems. They have an American feed, so I enjoy watching TV there as it feels kind of like going on vacation without leaving your chair.

Last Saturday, we were perusing the stations on DirectTV. We love music videos so we try to see what's happening on MTV proper and all of its spawn. Sadly there are very few actual music videos on the music stations these days. There's an MTV competitor called Fuse that I've, on occasion, enjoyed watching, cause they'd play videos from time to time and play more rock than R&B. Yay for Fuse. So I head to Fuse in the guide and see a show called, and I'm not joking when I tell you this, "Pants-off, Dance-off"

With a title like that I just had to see what the heck this show was.

What was it? Basically seemingly normal people apply to come onto the show and strip down to their underpants in front of a screen playing a music video of their choice. Viewers then spend the next week voting who was best and they become the champ. They get fame and some cash so they can actually have a monetary value for their pride. Thing is, it's not all young, attractive people that typically people would want to see strip down to their skin. No, it's the young, the old, the fat, the thin... Nature's diversity in all her glory.

We managed to make it through one dancer performing to Robbie Williams' "Rock DJ" (who, upon further research is actually the "Pants-off, Dance-off" all time champ "Masta Wong", oh dear). I have to admit that I hid my face in my hands a couple of times like I was watching a horror film. It was, fantastically dumb, but it wasn't the dumbness that made me scream and change the channel. No, it was the fact that the next dancer was an old man dancing to The Cure's "Friday I'm in Love." There was no possible way for my brain to process it so it had to go away. Far away.

"Pants-off, Dance-off" was pretty surreal. What put it in the "oh my god the world's gone insane" category for me was that the whole thing appears to be hosted by Jodie Sweetin. You know her, the middle child from Full House that recently returned to semi-fame for getting over a nasty meth addiction. Hosting TV's dumbest show is now her gig and I wasted seven minutes of my life watching it. How rude.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Celebrity Skin" by Hole

HRH

There is no Chelsea, only Zuul

It is a sunny summer day. Not too humid, a light breeze passing over the city. Our scene finds us with a young woman of about 29. She appears calm, collected, reasonable and rather cutely attired.

She seems fine on the outside as she weaves her way through the crowded city streets. Her cell phone rings and she engages in a wedding-related conversation. It is one month to the day to her nuptuals. Up until this day she has been what those in the know refer to as Zen Bride. Not hugely stressed about the details, effective and effcient in her task managment, diligent to the core. Calm, cool, filled with anticipation of a very fun day, but largely normal and sane.

The crowds become dense and irritatingly slow. The young woman only has her quickly dwindling lunch break to get her many wedding-related tasks done. The person on the phone tells the young woman some wedding related news she doesn't want to hear, news that Zen Bride would have been slightly concerned over, but would have dispatched a solution with skill. But Zen Bride is gone now. Long gone.

Upon hearing the news her gaze narrows. The sun seems to fade from the sky, the earth begins to tremble. Steam appears to be busting forth from her ears. She rears her head back as if to shout and emits a terrifying screech. A sound that could only come from a beast 100 times her size.

And then the unthinkable. Before the eyes of stunned onlookers, the normal young woman, once revered for her composure, transforms before their eyes. She grows up and out, turning green and growing a tail, fangs and claws, with an absurdly large chiffon veil top her newly formed lizard head.

She is Bridezilla. All will feel her wrath and get the hell out of her way cause she's got things to get done.



HRH

The above was a fictonalization of what's been going on in my head the last few days. Bridezilla still remains caged, and as M points out I'm not turning into Bridezilla, I'm turning into Stresszilla.

Aspergillus and Pennicillium

Sure, the heat is gone and the earth has cooled a little. There's a lovely breeze floating through the sky, blowing huge numbers of spores up my nose. As a result I would like to tear my nose off my face. Like coming back to work after a long weekend doesn't suck enough to begin with.

HRH

Renewed-ish

I was able to sleep last night, as the oppressive heat was blasted away by a kick-ass thunderstorm, and I feel like a human being again. The melted parts of my brain are starting to return to their regular functions and I don't feel like my skin is on fire, which is nice.

I'm getting out of the city this weekend for some well-earned R&R. I think we'll be able to work in a good bit of rest with some the boating, shopping, golfing and (oh dear) bird watching on the side. Most importantly, I'm going home where my mother can intervene on my frazzled state, as she is the global expert at telling me to have something to eat and getting some rest.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Monster Hospital" by Metric

HRH

Storm's a brewin'

I would like to put in for a vacation from being dumb. I don't think I've had a stretch of time like this in my life where I've felt so personally and professionally stupid. I've noticed that I drag my right foot a little sometimes when I walk or run so I'm really starting to wonder if there's something awry in my brain.

I don't think I've pissed off so many in such a short period of time before. It's like bam, bam, bam, I'm upsetting people left, right and centre, over the last few months and I'm sure I'm not doing any differently than I had done before. What's changed?

Then at work I just don't know the answers (there may not be answers at all) and I sit paralyzed with fear because I don't know what to do. I should run a clinic on how to do it all wrong.

There's just too much sometimes, yet I feel kind of bored too. Oh burnout you are so fun.

HRH

I'm melting...

I feel I must write this post in haste, for as the humidex gets higher and higher, more parts of my cortex melt. Soon I will be nothing but a medulla oblongata and a pile of well coiffed hair. I must impart my last great worlds upon this earth lest I turn into a goo-ey puddle that was once the form of a young, charming, capable woman who was really meant for cooler climates.

I loathe that I am blogging about the weather, but seriously, it's so hot it causes me physical pain. Like in my gut, on my skin, throughout my joints and in my slowly liqufying brain. I need ice, snow and a heafty wind. Stat.

Today's sing-a-long song: "Some Like It Hot" by The Power Station.

HRH