And you may ask yourself...Well, how did I get here?

Strange. Estrangement, that is. Have you ever found yourself estranged from people you don't want to be estranged from, but it's too sensitive or awkward to undo whatever caused the estrangement in the first place?

Family can be a tricky bunch. Without dredging up the details, I'm bummed out about losing a connection I never thought I'd lose. Maybe it's not lost. Hopefully. Third parties wielding their own agendas and grudges have helped to turn mole hills into mountains though, and I don't see things improving anytime soon.

For my part, I've apologized. And meant it. But it's pretty quiet on this one-way street.

Disneyland, Evil Empire or super awesome fun place?

On the Astro Oribitors for the 5th horrible time in a row

In 2012, we went to Disneyland. Not a vacation destination I had ever aspired to, even as a child. But it was, how should I put this, fabulous! Oh yes, it was expensive and crowded and hot and filled with really (REALLY) horrible people, but I'd go back in a heartbeat.

Every where you turn in The Happiest Place on Earth there is a "Disney Cast Member" ready and willing to take your money. Whether it's for $12 popcorn in a little plastic R2D2 container, or the ever-present ridiculous variations of mouse-eared hats, or glow-in-the dark plastic light sabres that you have no idea how you'll squeeze into your carry-on bag. Or churros. It doesn't matter. Wherever you go, you're always going to exit through the gift shop. But we knew this going in, and embraced our inner consumer whores for the four days we visited.

When I was younger (and slightly more cynical) I abhorred the white-washed saccharine-soaked false reality of Mickey's homeland. But going there as a "grown up" with a young child of my own, I reveled in his opportunity to experience the magic as only an innocent three-year-old kid can. If you put aside the rest of the world and all the negative noise that comes with it and just escape and enjoy for a little while, I guess that's not such a bad thing. Even if you realize that you're throwing your hard-earned money right into the claws of a wolf in sheep's clothing. But it's such cute sheep's clothing...

Exit through the gift shop.

Kinecting with my inner kickboxer

I like candy. I like wine. I like watching movies while eating candy and drinking wine. The problem with this trifecta of awesomeness is that none of these things lead to a super svelte swimsuit-ready body.

Aaaaand so, here I am again on the get-fit train. We bought a Kinect for George this Christmas, but it turns out he's far too lazy to spend more than several minutes jumping around to the Star Wars or Sesame Street games we bought him. So he's sticking to his daily regimen of Batman Lego games and I have taken over the Kinect.

And I kind of love it. Though I shouldn't jinx it as the novelty is likely to die off soon (much like the two Wiis I've purchased over the years). I haven't missed a day of cardio-kickboxing, yoga, strength training etc. since I got off my Christmas-baking-filled butt on January 3. And I've been eating better too. Goodbye bread. Goodbye candy. Hello fresh, whole foods. But I'm not totally boring, wine and beer are exempt, at least on the weekend.

So far I've worked off the holiday excess and have started making some progress on the pre-holiday 10lbs I wanted to lose. Fabulous at/by 40? I dunno about that. But maybe with the right lighting - Not Too Shabby at 40.

Say...

you know what's not awesome? Being friended by both your mother and your mother-in-law on facebook.

Nothing like having every casual comment/status update over analysed and misconstrued.

But I guess you can't deny their friend requests. Or defriend them. So here we are. Guess it's a good thing I've come back to Blogger, nice to have a mother-free zone to vent.

Now to go update my facebook page with a "nice weather we're having" status. Wonder how that one will offend.

Payday surprise!

Payday has always been my favourite day. More than Saturday even. When I was first working, back in my Canadian Tire days, I could hardly sleep on Payday Eve. What with visions of how I'd spend my $400 bucks dancing through my head.

Fast forward, gulp, 20 years later and I'm still fond of payday. And while I may not live at home without bills/rent/debt to tie me down and no expenditures other than terrible outfits, cigarettes, and the latest Pavement CD to eat up my hard-earned cash, I do still look forward to the odd treat on that magical day when my bank account is no longer emptyish. So imagine my joy when I saw my online paystub was 40+ hours short today. Just imagine it. Got it? Yup.

Turns out there was some kind of mix up on the hours I billed over the holidays. Mix ups are awesome. Especially when they cost me large chunks of money. Sigh. Now this issue is bouncing around between faceless payroll personnel as I sit around waiting for an email that will likely tell me I won't see this money until the next payout. Which I guess means my next cheque will be pretty big. There you are, silver lining!

Goodbye youth, hello downhill from here.

Oh right, New Year and all that.

Let's see...2013. The last year of my 30s. Really? Wow. In hindsight, cashing in my RRSPs to go on vacations and shopping sprees now seems like less of a good idea.

So how shall I commemorate the death of my thirties? Probably not with a fabulous round-the-world trip, unless fabulous round-the-world trips are now available for free and come with babysitters. Maybe a big career move? Hmmm...not likely. Who would tell The People about the latest sale at Gravity Pope or Future Shop if I stepped down from my throne? The People need to know these things.

I could cut my hair maybe. That's pretty wild, right? And we are thinking about getting a puppy. Jesus, this is a sad state of affairs. Okay, so maybe this plan needs some thought. I'll get back to you. And I'll be closer to 40 when I do. Gulp. Tick...tick...tick....

Oh my, it's almost 2013.

Really, it is. How did this happen? I have been writing/blogging more for work lately, and it has me thinking..."Me, remember when we used to write for fun instead of profit? Remember when we had time to indulge in meaningless drivel that no one was likely to ever read?" Well, long story short, I do remember. Fancy that? So I'm picking up the mic again, metaphorically speaking (I would never speak into an actual mic, my voice does NOT sound that weird in "real" life, does it?).

I promise, while I may officially be a mom, I will never be a mommy blogger. Okay, so, granted, I will likely reference my now almost-four-year-old son from time to time seeing as how he factors pretty hugely into my life these days. But, I will also just vent about stupid things. Like why does everyone always turn to arugula on Chopped, are they sponsored by the Arugula Association of America (AAA...but don't call them for a tow, they're only interested in adding a peppery flavour to balance the inherent sweetness in their dishes) or something? These are the types of hard-hitting issues I hope to address.

But for now, the wine is juuuuust about emptied. Oh, there, that'll do it. So I'm off to dream sweet dreams. Later.

Is this thing on?

Yup. We're still alive. Just busy. You know, with Yo Gabba Gabba and Goldfish Cracker consumption. Oh, and I'm working from home now...writing about shopping (nice work if you can get it). I'm a bad blogger, actually I can't really use the blogger title any more since I never do it. But maybe one day soon...