...or not...

Pulled into a meeting at 5pm which ran until 6.40pm therefore missed the chance to go to the One of a Kind Show last night. Trying to go tonight instead.

Am feeling very strange. On the verge of tears. Inadequate. Confused. Overwhelmed. You know, all the good stuff.

It's all work related. Things have been so up and down recently.

I just wish I didn't need constant affirmation that I'm ok, that I'm not going to be let go at a moments notice. I can't stand being in someone's bad books, or even just in the shadow of grace. My last job, I always felt underappreciated, over-used, over-worked and underpaid...you know, the typical stuff. Here, I feel like I am struggling, as if I am standing on constantly shaky ground with no chance to stop the quaking. I have no part in the quaking, but am made to feel as if I do.

There is just something I cannot stand about helplessness...like when you are blamed for something that you didn't do and have no way of defending yourself. And to attempt to defend yourself sounds too much like lies, or that you are too vehement. I just feel as if everyone got the memo, but they didn't give me one on purpose, and now they're all at a meeting and wondering where I am. It really, really tough, and almost insurmountable. I'm trying not to cry.

Maybe it's PMS, I don't know. I feel like my time here is both limited, and unlimited. I just don't know.

Truly One of a Kind

One of my all time favourite things is happening tonight...I'm going to the One of a Kind Show in Toronto. The One of a Kind Show is, at its most base level, a craft show. But it is so much more than that...oh so much more. The crafts (they prefer the term "artisanal designs") range from the edible (gourmet candy apples, home-made pepper jellies, and the ubiquitous fudge) to the luxury and ill-afforable (lapis lazuli brooches, endless strings of pearls, and carved amethyst rock).

I try and get all of my Christmas shopping done here, every year. Last year, I picked up a personalized apron for my mother...a Bond-style girl lounging like a mudflap lady at the bottom, "Margarita Mamma" emblazoned on the top. I also love the edibles and go to great lengths to snaffle the samples...last year an alcohol pickled garlic clove (yes, you heard me...clove) took me to new heights of ecstacy (and yes, stinkiness), only tempered by the melting, aching sweetness of shortbread that didn't need to be chewed as much as absorbed. I bought packets for everyone I knew. Ok, and one for me.

As with any show of this size, there are duds. But that is part of the pleasure...going into hysterics at the mere sight of certain products just makes the day all worthwhile. For example, the miniature fruit stall. It looks great, but what on earth do you do with miniature fruit? Lose it, I suppose. Find it down the sofa? I don't know.

I simply cannot wait until 5.30pm to find out what this years show will hold...oh, oh, will the lady with the freaky faced fairies by there? Oh, what about the person who carves faces into tree trunks? And will the woman who created thousands upon thousands of pink tulle tutus for dressup be there? God, I hope so...I've been promising myself a crown of ribbon and glitter this year.

The Feeling of Useful

I had forgotten what the feeling of useful felt like. The sense of accomplishment when you have reached the end of the week, not only (relatively) unscathed and mostly alive, but also with the list ready to go for next week. The feeling that you can put the week safely to bed knowing you can fully enjoy a well deserved weekend, return on Monday, and have a list.

No scatterbrain thoughts...no rushing madly from one project to another aimlessly. No no, not this week. This week, I am in control. I shaped my week. I won.

The last five days were not without their bumps, but I have also learnt that bumps are not necessarily the end of the world. I can brush off the stilleto heel marks from my suit and get back to work. Yes, there might be a few hasty job applications, but it's only a temporary lapse until you regain control, dab your eyes, flap your hands in front of your face a few times and return to your desk stronger than before.

The funniest sensation did happen to me though...I thought that, if I did lose my job, it would of course be terrible. But I also got this feeling that everything would be ok if I did. Sure, we'd have less income for a bit, but I am a competent woman...I'd get a new job, and we'd be fine.

Then thoughts turned to babies and maternity leave for a few moments, and I had to think hard to get me back on track. Ah, yes...being fired.

I just knew that MF would take care of me, of us. It would be hard, but we'd manage. I'd take a lower paying job if I had to, we have plenty of sacrifices we could make if necessary. It seemed all sort of romantic (in the same sense that Dickens or Tolstoy or Hugo is romatic, that is).

Regardless, I am now back in control. I am still me, just with a more cautious attitude, more prepared, with a CYA file (that's "Cover Your Ass" for you non-corporate types who haven't been exposed yet to the vipers of the world). I am looking forward to the weekend, yes, but I am also looking forward to Monday.

Onwards!!

Why do people have to be...so "people-ish"?

I have said before, and I'll say again, people suck. Especially people who are meant to be your nearest and dearest.

We've been getting "feedback" about our invitations. I didn't know our invitations were up for discussion until I had some comments. Why everyone feels as if they have to weigh in on everything wedding related, I'll never know. We weren't (believe it or not) asking for opinions. My personal favourite was:

"Oh, I got your invite, it was nice. You obviously took some time to make them. But my friend Sarah's invite was really nice...blah blah blah, I'm a total moron".

The other comments we LOVE receiving usually feature the following statement:

"Oh, you are doing BLANK? We don't like BLANK, we didn't do it at our wedding" or "BLANK is such a total waste of money, why on earth are you doing that?"

The funny thing is that I had no idea how diverse peoples opinions are on weddings. We have a friend who thinks that is is completely ridiculous and unnecessary that we are feeding our guests. Another thinks that anything other than a cashbar is completely ludicrous. "Why on earth would you pay for other people's drinks?" we exclaims while avoiding paying for yet another round.

Then some people think that unless I have a gold carriage pulled by fieldmice in little jackets, that I am somehow doing this whole thing on the sly and on the cheap?

"What do you mean you aren't getting a custom made dress? Who on earth nowadays doesn't go custom? What type of peasant are you anyway?"

I'm happy now just to smile and say "Ok, we'll take that into consideration" while shooting daggers at them about their complete lack of clue. And the next person who says "Chocolates as favours? But I don't like chocolate", I'll just tell them that I'll have theirs instead, so as to avoid the inconvenience we are clearly causing them.

Truth in Advertising

Driving in yesterday morning, I was interested to see a photograph of a woman between the wheel well and the rear doors of a 1988 Camero. Not just any photo, but a full head to toe, silver bikini clad, platform shoed and stacked photo. I was curious at who the absolute pig was driving said Camero...and as we pulled ahead I couldn't help but notice that the driver...was the woman in the picture!

Now, this has raised some very important questions for me:

a) It was clearly her head...but was it her body? Couldn't tell!
b) Where does this girl work?
c) What is she advertising? Herself? What if she works in an office? *Announcing newer, improved SHANNON*?

I don't get it. Attention-seeking? Definitely. Reasons however, remain unknown.

Back-bloggin'

Thanks for kick-starting me back into the blogosphere M, I have been completely awful in my lack of blogging. I will summarize some posts I will be completing in the coming days, and (hopefully) will get them all done shortly:

• Truth in Advertising: Regarding my commute this morning
• Simply Don't Want to Be Here: Regarding how crappy work has been lately
• Why People Just Suck: Regarding people's reactions to our invitation
• Hot Mama: My Mum's got a boyfriend!
• Why I am always right: Because, well, I am.

I will (try to) start with post #1 this p.m!

Another check on the list

Invitations are now (almost) out. We now have only 15 or so lounging on the carpet at home, waiting for enclosures. Yay.

Up until this exact point, the invitations have been the most stressful thing on my to-do list. Think about it: first you have to pick and choose from everyone you've ever known in your entire life and then divide the list into two parts - people you like / like you, and people you hate / hate you. Then you have to divide the "people you like" list in half. This is now the master list. Then you have to cut the "people you hate" list into quarters and add one quarter to the master list. These people are invariably relatives.

You then take the master list and try and find out where they live, or in one case, where they are buried (sorry Uncle Rob!). You have to contact people who make up another quarter of the "people you hate" list to find out where the "people you hate" on the master list actually reside. Then you end up pissing off that quarter because they weren't invited, even though they hate you and you know it.

When you've got everything settled, you've made your max number, and everyone has contact info, this is the exact point when both mother and mother in law wonder why you haven't invited Aunt Sydney, or Uncle Brian. Don't you know they are like a sister / brother to them?? How could we have been so inconsiderate? You then take Aunt Sydney and Uncle Brian (and their 19 children, natch) and put them on the "backup master list". This list is very important. It is a list you have no intention of contacting. Ever. You plan no invite to send them, no space on the seating chart, no intention of getting contact info. These are the people who will show up on the day of, despite "forgetting" to disclose the province you are being married within. Remember this. It will happen. And they won’t bring a gift. And they will complain. A lot.

Then we have to decide which of these people will partake in various activities, such as out-of-towner dinners, the rehearsal, and my favourite, the Bridal Tea. Somehow, I have to keep the fact that we are having a Bridal Tea a deathly secret...if mother-in-law got wind of it, she'd appear with her flying monkeys…I mean, grandchildren, nieces and Aunt Sydney…much to the chagrin of my mother, who is hosting. Then, I have to keep explaining to MF that the tea is only to thank the bridesmaids for their (non-existent) help, while simultaneously inviting all of my out-of-town female relatives, because my mother won't have seen them in about 20 years.

THEN we have to figure out which of these darling guests resides in which country, and contact someone in each applicable country to purchase stamps for the RSVP envelopes...as I'm pretty sure that Germany won't accept out fiddy cent Canadian flag stamps. THEN we have to weigh each countries invites to work out the individual postage (who knew that a stamp to Uganda would cost $8?). THEN we have to drop them in the mail and await RSVP.

There is a measurement of time that is so minusculey short, so insignificantly tiny, that it doesn't even have a name. Millisecond is way to long a title. If a millisecond denotes that time frame, this measurement of time would be called a "mi".

A "mi" is precisely the amount of time between dropping all of the invitations in the postbox, and discovering a huge (and potentially embarrassing) typo on every single one of our invites. This will not only guarantee that no-one will show up a) on time, b) in the right location, AND c) in the correct dimension, but will also cause undeniable and catastrophic ripples throughout your entire guest list, ensuring that those who do manage to show up on time, in the right location and dimension, don't bring a gift.

So, we sit (or cower) and await the inevitable. Planning a wedding is so much fun!

Some good news, some not-so-good news

Good news:

I can now fit into undies that I wore when I was 18 without the sides cutting into my thighs and making unsightly bulges on either side.

Bad news:

This means that my underwear is 10 years old. Go me.

Halloween Synopsis

• Approximately 90 Aero bars left. Distinct surplus. Should be gone within 3 days given MF's propensity for the bubbly bars.
• Status of our three pumpkins = intact. Strange. Really expected them to be kicked in given the damage done to the rest of the street. Must be our super-duper carving skills (mine featured a raven on a skull, MF's was a cat. We threw in a scary face for luck). Pics to follow.
• Distinct dry scalp developing from tightness of Alice band worn yesterday. I shall break out the Head and Shoulders tonight.
• Home-made pumpkin seeds are the highlight of this week. Not too roasty, not too salty, just right!
• Candygrams received at work = 1. From someone mysteriously called "The Magic Pumpkin". I never knew he cared.
• Fear Fest at Canada's Wonderland proved to be worth the money. Fancy that!