Making a new tradition

The traditional Christmas tree can be topped with a star, or an angel. I've always preferred an angel - seems so much more special to me. Our tree at home as I was growing up always had an angel, too, so it might be that the nostalgia alone is what I hold onto.

The other day I was catching up on my friends' Facebook status updates (jebus almighty, what did we do before Facebook??), and I came across one including the following quote: "I don't need an Angel on top of my Christmas tree, I have one in Heaven watching over me"*. Ironically, I had just finished trimming our Christmas tree the night before. It was all done except the treetop was bare, because my angel was still packed away in another Christmas box that I'd not yet gotten to. The words hit home, and for a moment, I thought to myself, "Hmmm....so true; perhaps, this year, to honour our own Angels in Heaven, I'll leave the treetop bare". That same friend commented that this year, she instead put a star atop her tree, to remind her that she's had a good year, and to to signify that she and her family and friends are all stars in their own right, and they should shine brightly, like those shine above us, in Heaven.

She's right.

I am going to buy us a star for our tree. And the star will now have a brand new meaning for me - to symbolize our own very special shining stars who can't be with us in person this Christmas, but who will always be with us in spirit, shining down on us from Heaven, twinkling, and shining brightly, always.

*Thanks, Shemla, for your words of inspiration, and wisdom. :)

Happy Thursday

When I woke up early this morning to start my day I happily turned the alarm to the "off" position from "on", meaning it wouldn't be set to scream at me again tomorrow morning. Until 30 seconds later, when it registered as I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes, that it was Thursday, and not Friday.

I hate that.

BUT! It is Thursday -- I have one more wake up ahead, and then that alarm clock goes off for an entire week! ;). Yessiree, folks, a week. I am on staycation next week. Glorious staycation. Christmas in the 'hood will be DONE by week's end. And I have sooooooooooo much to do in that short week. But, it WILL be done, as the Internet is my witness!

Plus, it's Turkey Thursday. My work is putting on a lavish turkey dinner for our Christmas gift. It's being catered by the Olde Triangle. I've worn my eating pants in preparation, and I can't freaking wait.

Happy Thursday!

All's well that ends well

Every now and then, life teaches you a lesson. A hard lesson that ends up being a kick in the junk - so much so that you wanna kick yourself in your own junk because you feel so stupid. I had one of those little lessons this past weekend.

Some back story: I'm a hoarder. Ok, well that might be harsh. You don't have to walk on top of boxes to move between rooms in my house. My sinks are not full of garbage, nor is my bathtub. So I'm not a true "hoarder" in the sense that is in TLC's eyes, but I do tend to hold onto things, ie, gift cards, 2-for-1 coupons, etc, for 'tough times'. Have coupons and cards expired before I had to use them? Oh yes. It's a piss off, but, it's my own fault, and I take full responsibility. I oughta be more diligent with that sorta thing, I know. Most of what I lost was in the low denomination value, but let's face it, in this day and age, even the loss of $10 is worth mourning. I can't tell you how happy I was when I heard that there was now an official ruling by the government that cards purchased after Sept 2010 would no longer incur an expiration. I mean, it makes sense....a gift card was paid for in cash. Cash is cash. Cash doesn't expire, so why did gift cards ever have an expiry before? You all know the answer to that. It's because in this world, there's a whoolllllle lotta dumb people like me who fail to use them, therefore the company reaps the benefit of making money for nothing.

Ok, segway back to my story.

I received a rather substantial Visa gift card through an incentive program at my work. I had a plan to use this card for Christmas shopping so I tucked it away safely in my craft room until it was time to make a purchase. Sunday, in between toiling away making the Christmas cards, I just happened to open the packaging that contained said Visa card. I literally almost vomited right then and there. I saw spots and I felt faint. The date was December 5, 2010 when I peeled the packaging away. To my horror, the expiry date on my substantial Visa gift card had run its course...ending November 2010.

I immediately called the 800# on the back of the card. I explained my plight. I admitted my own stupidity and my own responsibility. I prayed for a miracle. I begged for a grace period. Surely to GAWD with only 5 days past expiry they could do something for me - even if it was to take a loss on the dollar amount. But no. Point blank, the card expired, therefore I was S.O.L. I asked to speak to a supervisor. I reached another unsympathetic ear. I was devastated. I felt like I had been robbed. I have never, ever felt so stupid in my life. And, I felt very sorry for myself. And, I'll admit, there were a few tears, but I'll blame PMS on that.

I went to a contact at work the next day, hoping something could possibly be done by the company. My contact went to her contact...unfortunately, I met yet another dead end. A co-worker insisted I keep up the fight. She googled gift card Visas and expiry...and lo and behold, on the Visa.ca website, under their FAQ section, it's cited that if a Visa gift card expires with a balance, there is an option to replace it for a fee. I felt a renewed sense of fight build inside of me. I sent a message via the reward company's website. After I got off work, I called them back again, this time citing the information I found, and requesting to order a replacement card. Once again, I was met with an unsympathetic ear, and another round of, "I'm sorry, but there's nothing we can do for you". My rage continued. I suggested that the website I found with the FAQ be looked at. Apparently she didn't have internet access.

Suddenly, it hit me...this was the reward company who issued the card for my workplace. The card itself was a Citizens Bank gift Visa....perhaps I should be dealing with them? So a phone call and 3 transfers later, I was met with a very friendly, sympathetic, ear, and I currently have an order out for a replacement card for my substantial expired Visa gift card, for a small fee of $20. It was like Christmas came early for me.

Persistence pays. When it comes to money lost --- fight for it. I still won't believe this chapter in self-idiocy has ended until I see the replacement card in my mailbox, but I do have a small sense of victory. And you can be sure I'm going to pay careful attention to expiry dates from now on.

don't let this happen in your home

I should know better than to load up the shopping cart with fresh produce. It always spoils before I can finish it, and I don't even want to think about the amount of food and money I waste by having such big plans to eat healthfully only to see it turn into a science experiment before it hits the compost bin. Last night, after the girls night for Erin's BD I stopped in at Sobeys to grab a few necessities. Not unlike any other time, I had to grab a few expired items from the fridge before filling it back up with the new stuff.

I ought to clear it out more frequently.

The diced up tomato and pickle for the last time we ate schawarma were funky, but, since they were in some rather expensive pyrex glass containers, I had to clean them out. That was stink#1.

I noticed the subject of stink#2 on the bottom shelf, right above the crisper. It had been sitting there for awhile, and I knew full well that there was no hope that it was fresh so I knew it was next to be turfed. I grabbed it....only to see it disintegrate before my very eyes and heard the distinct *ker--ffflllifffff--PLOP* noise it made as it separated from itself and smeared all over the bottom of the fridge and onto the kitchen floor. It had the consistency of what I can only describe as a condom filled with hand cream. Not that I have ever felt a condom filled with hand cream. I just have a good imagination. It smelled of rot. It was the most disgusting 'surprise' I'd had since the 'chocolate milk incident'. I screamed. I cursed. I shuddered - to the point that Chris came to the room to see what the fuss was all about. He took one look at the mess upon the floor before doing his own squirming and possibly gagging before leaving the room again.

The smushy, mushy surprise was a cucumber.

After getting over the initial shock of the dead cucumber and cleaning up said mushy mess, I then moved on to the culprit of stink#3, a soured container of buttermilk.

Perhaps we oughta just give up on the whole grocery shopping/cooking/storing thing, and just sign up for Meals on Wheels? Surely we'd save money? What with accounting for the money not spent on food that would spoil, and the lower electric bill with not having to run the fridge?

I am good housekeeper. I swear.

this post brought to you courtesy of Lou Bega

I've been a little neglectful lately. The weekend passed me by in a blur. There was a ton of things I should have done that went undone. I'm working the late shift this week, so even though I have huge ideas, plans and expectations that I will fill my morning hours preparing for Christmas with finishing my cards; finishing the decorating of the tree; starting to wrap; heck, even doing a load of laundry or two, in actuality, the pull of the warm bed sucks me in every time. This morning, just as I had flipped my pillow over to the cool side to snuggle in for that final hour before I had to get up, Mambo#5 started on the radio, and I immediately jumped out of bed. I figured it was a sign from a higher power. Words cannot express how much I deeply loathe that song. Unfortunately, the Christmas preparations went untouched, but I was able to clean up the kitchen and make the living quarters a tad bit more liveable.

Tonight, I'm meeting up with the girlies after work at P&W to celebrate Erin's birthday (birthday post dedicated to her on the way!), and tomorrow morning I have to leave the house early for an appointment before work, so you can guess that I will continue to leave the Christmas preps untouched for yet another day. The weekends before Christmas seem to be filling up with invitations and goings-on... before I know it, the day will have come and gone. The overwhelming sense of panic is starting to set in. It's time to breathe. It's time again to focus on the real meaning of Christmas...that, and perhaps playing Lou Bega on repeat every early morning til the day before?

TGIF!

Man it's going to feel good being able to sleep in tomorrow.

sh!t my mom says...

Sometimes, I just about consider writing a book or creating a site entitled "Sh!t My Mom Says", akin to the uproariously funny and viral, Sh!t My Dad Says (which I absolutely adore btw. And, for the record, the site only. The show? Big fail if you ask me). However, my gal Ellen already thought of it for her show, and I don't want her thinking I'm stealing her idea or anything ;). Aaaanyway, so I guess I'll have to just add a story or two to the blog whenever the moment arises.

And it rose last night.

Chris & I, and Mom & Todd were out at a local pub for supper, celebrating Todd's birthday. A week or so ago, Todd had a bout of some stubborn cold sores, preventing him from shaving his chin for a few days until they healed up. Mom was admiring Chris' fabulous handlebar moustache he's been sporting for Movember, and I guess that's what made her remember Todd's health issues. So, in the voice that is my momma's (ie, not overly soft, delicate or quiet), she says outloud, "Did you tell them about your herpes?".

Well, yes, technically, a cold sore is a form of that particular ailment, but it's not normally called anything other than a cold sore. Especially in public. At a restaurant. Where other patrons were in earshot. And bar staff.

As we were getting our coats on to leave, after a pleasant and quite delicious meal, Mother made a comment about how cute the waitress had been (she was a complete doll). Todd muffled under his breath in the dry tone that he's known for, "Yeah, too bad she thinks I have herpes".