35

Today I enter the next phase of my life. No longer am I a part of the viable 19- to 34-year-old females demographic. I am now 35 years old. Which means I've entered the realm of "character actresses", mom jeans, and Costco shopping. My husband turned 40 today. He thinks he's older than I am, but he's counting in regular years not gender years. A 35-year-old woman is like a 50-year-old man, so he's actually younger than I am. He's getting more and more sophisticated and worldly and I'm getting more and more invisible. But, whatever, time marches on and all that. Instead of thinking about the limitations of my age, I should take this time to reflect on what I've learned/experienced in my 35 years on this planet.

Learned:
35. Combining red wine and chocolate is a beautiful thing.
34. For better or for worse, there is life after high school. A lot of life.
33. Waiting for change is not the same as making change.
32. Smoking is not cool, it's actually really disgusting.
31. Always use a primer when painting a room red.
30. There is such a thing as too much Tequila.
29. Leland was Bob.
28. Exercise gets better results when you actually do it instead of just talking about.
27. Lasagna is gross.
26. "Morning" sickness is misleading.
25. Dogs are waaaaaay better than cats.
24. Student loans may buy you an education and lots of great clothes and concert tix, but eventually they expect to be repaid.
23. Rollercoasters are not fun. They are terrifying and should be wiped from the face of the Earth.
22. I am not "driver" material. It's a passenger's life for me.
21. Mexican food is really, really good.
20. The principal from Pretty in Pink was right,"If you put out signals that you don't want to belong, people are going to make sure that you don't."

Experienced:
19. Sipped Chianti on the Ponte Vecchio.
18. Married the most wonderful man in the world. And still have no regrets.
17. Threw the dice at Craps tables in Vegas.
16. Made a human being.
15. Had the Spaghetti Puttanesca at Ciprianos. Twice.
14. Got the Hell out of Regina, Saskatchewan.
13. Sang Karaoke in St Johns, Newfoundland.
12. Drank Guinness in a pub (pubs) in Ireland.
11. Had (have) a very cool niece and got to meet her moments after she was born.
10. Swam in the shark-infested waters of Mexico. Shark infested in my mind, anyway.
9. Saw the Flaming Lips live--three times.
8. Witnessed my little brother's collar bone breaking in a hockey game. Gross.
7. Got really fat and spent a lot of time in the basement of my parents' home.
6. Got out of the basement and found my way on to a treadmill.
5. Shook Bill Clinton's hand.
4. Went back to school after 11 years of slogging it in the retail arena.
3. Developed a taste for sushi. Pretty impressive since I almost threw up the first time I tried it.
2. Drank waaaaay to much and fell off the dance floor a few times at my boss's wedding.
1. Turned 35.

Fringe Benefits

I went to work today. I'm such a hero. I'd totally decided to stay home and milk the snowfall, watch Oprah's Favorite Things orgy of consumer gluttony, and maybe do a little laundry or something. But my husband decided to drive, so I went. It was cold and snowy, but mostly ice-free.

And it's a good thing I did, too. Today was a very special day at the office. No, it wasn't Pizza Lunch and Dessert Buffet day--that was yesterday. It was popcorn and a movie day. Pretty awesome and not at all demeaning, eh? Who needs use of the company jet, weekends at the corporate ski chalet, or seven minutes in heaven with your hot new secretary, when you can sit in the sales training room with 40-50 other employees drinking Coke out of styrofoam cups, eating popcorn out of brown lunch sacks, and watching Tim Allen's The Santa Clause? Not that I'm complaining about the two-hour break from actually working, but I find these weak attempts at humouring the working cogs embarrassing. I'm sure the hearts of the people who were actually running the "event" were in the right place, but knowing that the idea most likely originated in some ridiculous corporate brainstorming session puts a bit of a tarnish on it.

Oh, and last week the business and listings departments divided into four teams and played Deal or No Deal in the conference room. The prize? Not a million dollars. It was Bravo points. Bravo points allow employees to go to our online corporate catalogue and exchange their points for wonderful products. Wonderful products like oven mitts, or word-of-the-day calendars. Score.

163 hours of sick pay, and counting.

Well, I'm at home today. And so is Simon.

We got a whole lot more than 5-10 cm of snow up here. We live in an area near Heritage Mountain, which was hit really hard. The school buses aren't running up here, and the sound of spinning tires has been pretty much non stop all day. It's really pretty, what with the piles of snow and the Christmas tree lights--it reminds me of the old days growing up in the more Canadian parts of Canada. But it's left us pretty much stranded. Not sure what will happen tomorrow. There's no way Simon can drive down the huge hill with his all-season tires, but there's also no way I can walk down and then back up the huge hill to get to transit in the dark with all the ice and snow and other commuters.

If it were next week it would be Christmas Eve and I could just sit back and enjoy the snow from my mountain perch--like the Grinch, but slightly less evil.

(Don't) Let it Snow

Here it comes. The annual Vancouver snow freak out. We're expecting anywhere from 5-15 cm by tomorrow night. Now, to the rest of Canada, that's chump change. That's a balmy December day. No big deal. But to Vancouver, 5-15cm of snow is enough of a reason to abandon your vehicles on the side of the road, skip out on work or school, and, if it comes to it, eat your family members one by one in a them-or-me survival ritual.

I grew up in the prairies, and I like snow. I miss snow. I want to spend the day drinking cocoa and gazing out the window while I watch It's a Wonderful Life by the light of the Christmas tree. Or throw on a scarf and some mittens and go strolling through the winter wonderland till my nose starts running and my forehead goes numb. But that's not really an option, as I have to work. And the 155 hours in sick time that I have cost my company so far this year makes a snow day a little difficult to pull off. Seriously, I saw it on my paystub last week--155 hours in sick time. Thank god for unlimited sick days. But my bonus/raise appraisal is coming up, and even "unlimited" has it's limits, apparently.

So, unless it's super insanely snowy tomorrow morning and not worth the risk, I will have to make my way to the office. Which means either we hit the highway with the many morons who have no snow tires and who are only used to seeing the white stuff on their own terms (when they get decked out in their MEC gear and drive up to Whistler on the weekends), or we pile on to the bus/SkyTrain with the hoards of other miserable, tired people who opted for public transport. Ugh.

It ain't going to be pretty. Every time it snows here the city goes crazy. Sirens everywhere. People panicking. Power failures. And good luck getting a pizza delivered. Anarchy.

Final Countdown

I'm all about the countdown these days. The countdown to my 35th birthday: five days. The countdown to Christmas: 10 days. The countdown to 2009: 17 days. The countdown to my last day of work before my year and three weeks of mat leave: 32 days. And most importantly, the countdown till I can drink a bottle of red washed down with several gin & tonics: 66 days. Oh yeah, and that last date also coincides with the day George will be making his grand entrance. Or at least the day he's scheduled to. But first things first, right now there is 21 minutes till Coronation Street is over, so I'd best be going.

How the Jerks Stole Christmas

You try to do something nice for people, and how do they thank you? By smashing your gesture of kindness into the asphalt.

You see, being the festive and generally wonderful people we are, we naturally put up outdoor Christmas lights and decorations this year. And not just in our yard either--oh no, homies don't play that way. We put lights up in the trees in the common area on the other side of our fenced-off yard as well. And they were my favourite kind of lights. I know it's not environmentally friendly of me, but I don't like LED lights. I like the big, old-fashioned, frosted, multi-coloured Santa Lights from Canadian Tire. They just go better with the plastic 1950's Christmas wonderland theme we go in for.

So, we (well, Simon) buy all these lights, go out in the rain and string them up through the trees, and then sit back and bask in the glow of our own awesomeness (in addition to the glow from the environment-murdering wasted electricity being sucked through our many extension chords and outlets). And how do you think people in our co-op reacted? Did they all gather round like the Whos down in Whoville, clasping hands, swaying, and singing songs of holiday cheer? Did they knock on our door bearing gifts of wine, chocolate, and their undying gratitude for our display of Christmas spirit? Did they hoist us onto their shoulders and parade us through the grounds declaring that just being our neighbours is truly the greatest gift of all?

No. No they didn't.

They reacted by cruelly wrenching our brightly coloured bulbs from their sockets and smashing them to bits in the parking lot, leaving nothing behind but empty green chords tangled in the trees. And they didn't do it all at once either. It's like they were taunting us. Every time we went outside there would be a few more missing until they'd cleaned out the lot of them.

Who would do such a thing? Was it our crazy neighbour with the giant red hair and even more giant ass? She used to be known as "the" Christmas decorator in our little community, perhaps she got jealous and wanted to put a proverbial horse head in our bed. Could it have been a poor coal-miner's daughter who wanted to gather enough lights with which to surprise her eight kids by brightening the Christmas twig in their shanty? Perhaps it was a vigilante Christmas environmentalist group who spend their evenings skulking from house to house removing all non-LED lighting in the Greater Vancouver area. Or was it possibly a group of woodland creatures gathering decorations to spruce up the forest in preparation for Santa's arrival?

If any of the above scenarios were real, I'd be cool with it. But my guess is it was just a bunch of stupid kids who like smashing things. I hope the little buggers get lumps of coal in their stockings. Or just lumps. Mysterious, unexplained lumps in their little jerk bodies. That would be fair, right?