<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863</id><updated>2012-02-16T07:03:21.010-05:00</updated><category term='moving'/><category term='Suicide'/><category term='cancer'/><category term='beer'/><category term='babies'/><category term='engagement ring'/><category term='tents'/><category term='necklace'/><category term='Family'/><category term='wedding'/><category term='Heroes'/><category term='death'/><category term='exes'/><category term='Thanksgiving'/><category term='boogie monster'/><category term='champagne'/><category term='bunny'/><category term='homeless'/><category term='hair'/><category term='gnarls barkley'/><category term='Costumes'/><category term='shelter'/><category term='homework'/><category term='birthdays'/><category term='Celestite'/><category term='snowballs'/><category term='Halloween'/><category term='Dinner'/><category term='pets'/><category term='longing'/><category term='Hoffman Quadrinity Process'/><category term='Gem'/><category term='Bus stop'/><category term='daughter'/><category term='evil email'/><category term='adult ADD'/><category term='poems'/><category term='kids'/><category term='adoption'/><category term='roses'/><category term='School'/><category term='Amethyst'/><category term='drama'/><category term='children'/><category term='almonte'/><category term='birthday'/><category term='stress'/><category term='jewelery'/><category term='cottaging'/><category term='Mineral'/><category term='vampires'/><category term='bridal party'/><category term='club'/><category term='party'/><category term='ottawa humane society'/><category term='camping'/><category term='song lyrics'/><category term='cats'/><category term='field trips'/><category term='chili'/><category term='drinking'/><category term='alcohol recovery'/><category term='landlord'/><category term='roommates'/><category term='bachelorette'/><category term='fishing'/><category term='poetry'/><category term='Heart'/><category term='love'/><category term='weight'/><category term='tuna handshake'/><category term='bathrooms'/><category term='cleaning'/><category term='past life'/><title type='text'>Bastette's Babble</title><subtitle type='html'></subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>43</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-5608427234632734940</id><published>2010-02-18T17:06:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-18T17:47:41.897-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='almonte'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Bus stop'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='snowballs'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drama'/><title type='text'>Bus stop DRAMA! lol</title><content type='html'>Every morning when we take The Bean to the bus, there are the usual characters. Tracy and her two daughters who are adorable and pretty well-behaved, her brother's daughter whom she looks after for him as he's a single parent with a tough job and Donna the grandma and her two grandchildren. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The two grandchildren are: Amber who is a doll. She's super tall for her age she surpasses my height by about 2 feet already at the age of twelve and her younger brother Marcus. Marcus is a little shit. He's always hitting his older sister who can obviously put him out with a punch to the face should she so choose, but does not because she is well-mannered. He likes to throw snow balls at her, hitting others in the process and all the while Donna the grandma just kinda goes "Oh Marcus, cut that out! Teehehehe." I was hit by one of his snowballs back in the beginning of winter and my husband had some words with him about how if he should ever hit me with something again, he'd be taking a nice face-plant into the snowbank and given a facewash. Ok, all was cool for a while.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Two weeks ago we are all standing at the stop and Marcus is kicking at ice. He kicks the ice hard and it ricochets off my foot. My husband had already warned him so he grabbed him and said "Don't you dare hit my wife again with ANYTHING!" Donna stood there, we all sorta did. I was a bit shocked but WTF?! CONTROL YOUR LITTLE TURD!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this morning she decides to chastise my husband in front of everyone at the stop, myself, and my daughter included. She said she did not like the way The Hubby grabbed Marcus last week and so the Hubby apologised. That should have been end of story right? OH no, she then proceeds to threaten my Hubby with HER Hubby!!! She said "If it ever happens again, you will be speaking to my husband!" Yeah, ok lady. That did it. He apologised and we didn't bring up the time he hit my with a snowball when she as not present at the stop that day. She should have accepted it and not made the threat. I didn't hear the threat. I almost gave the Hubby shit for speaking up about how her grandson is a little poohead after he apologised, I was going to tell him that after you apologise to someone you should let it be. That's when he told me about the threat. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;HOLY PASSIVE-AGGRESSIVE MUCH?! This happened two weeks ago and really wasn't a big deal. In fact, it was about time someone said something stern to Marcus because his grandmother sure doesn't. &lt;br /&gt;Well, I have some major words for her tomorrow morning that's for sure. First I plan on tell her that I wish to speak with her off to the side or after the bus has gone as it was none of the children's business in the first place, then I will proceed to tell her how pathetic her passive-aggressiveness is and that she should NOT have threatened my hubby with talking to hers. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, she's the Avon lady we buy from here in town. My Hubby was over there last week to pick up our recent order and she didn't say a word then. Hubby has been over a couple of times and every time he has, her husband (who is quite large and lazy) according to my hubby (he has been there 3 times) and each time he has said hello and tried to make small-talk all the while the fat ass is siting on the couch drinking his beer and mostly ignoring him. Oh well, at least my husband is polite.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is he going to do anyway? Slur something incoherent about his grandkid's behaviour and threaten what? To get up off the couch and chase my Hubby?? Hubby would be gone and out the door at a slow pace before he could find the leverage to get out of his couch groove, I'm betting. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo ,we wont be buying avon from Passive-Aggressive anymore that's for sure! I can't wait until tomorrow morning.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I plan on bringing up the fact that her sweet cherub-looking grandson has hit me with a snowball before and then I will proceed to tell her that should he ever hit me with ANYTHING again, I don't care if it's an empty candy wrapper (which he likes to litter around the stop btw and grandma does nothing) I will press charges of harassment. He has not just hit myself but the other younger kids there before too.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't get me wrong either. She is only maybe in her late 50s so I'm not going to blast a cute little old lady tomorrow. ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-5608427234632734940?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/5608427234632734940/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=5608427234632734940' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5608427234632734940'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5608427234632734940'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2010/02/bus-stop-drama-lol.html' title='Bus stop DRAMA! lol'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-7809390728945237297</id><published>2010-02-07T14:14:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-07T14:47:40.002-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Birthday Business and Whatnot.</title><content type='html'>Thanks to my hunny bunny, my daughter and a few close friends I had a nice quiet birthday. Alright, it was quiet on Friday night on my actual birthday but not so quiet on Saturday when we went out for dinner and games. I got to play laser tag for the first time in about 16 years. It was a hoot. I did discover that should I be in a war, due to how out of shape I am in, I would be pretty dead, pretty fast. I foresee that yoga helping me on my way to being a well-fit solider type who can obiliterate all those in her path. Uhh huh. &lt;br /&gt;Goals people, we must have goals. Currently, mine is to laser tag the shit out of people.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-7809390728945237297?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/7809390728945237297/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=7809390728945237297' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7809390728945237297'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7809390728945237297'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2010/02/birthday-business-and-whatnot.html' title='Birthday Business and Whatnot.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-7218000311356885447</id><published>2010-02-05T11:28:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2010-02-05T12:07:50.860-05:00</updated><title type='text'>I am ready for change</title><content type='html'>Change scares me sometimes. I suppose it's because I have had way too many changes in my life as it is and they weren't always good ones. In fact, the first few were awful. That being said, I am ready for it. I know it can be hard but the changes I want to make are for bettering myself and my situation. Things can only look up from here. I sort of keep expecting that something terrible will happen; I think that always sits on the edge of my consciousness and gnaws away slowly at my ability to be truly at peace and happy with my life RIGHT NOW, at this time. I seem to be awaiting some sort of doom and quite frankly, it's pissing me off. I'm working on that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Patience is a virtue and I have a couple of grains of salt out of a full shaker at the moment. I want things to happen RIGHT NOW. I am afraid that if they do not, I will never see them done. I need to remember that 'Good things come to those who wait'. In the past that wasn't so with me, I had given up on that notion completely. It hasn't gotten me to where I want to be so I need to change this. End of story.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How does one gain patience? Maybe I will try yoga.  &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have decided to start writing under a pseudonym. I'm not going to divulge the subject on which I wish to write about nor do I plan on making it known what my pen name is. I find creative writing to be a nice release. I enjoy storytelling and I have a lot going on in my head thanks to an over-active imagination. It's time to let some of it out of my head so I can think of new ones. Sometimes people just need to share. heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's my 31st birthday today. Yay me. I am getting bored of birthdays, can we make them stop please? It means I get older, you see, and I am not liking some of the things that are happening as a result of these continuing birthdays. I'm cool with not getting gifts or a cake. I'll trade that for no wrinkles, hair that I didn't know existed, hair that I know exists but I hide it cleverly with dye...these sort of things. Gravity is taking quite a toll as well. I suspect gravity thinks it is all fun and games. I am NOT playing ok? Shit. On that note, I am supposed to be getting a Wii fit plus for my birthday. I plan on starting the aforementioned yoga using this. There is one slight problem. They are selling out like hookers on welfare cheque day. It's a bit nutty and I'd just like ONE please. It should not be this hard to find one of these damn things. Gravity has won for a few days longer but I'm going to be on the damn phones in the morning, annoying the shit out of the clerks at the stores around here until I find one. Oh wait, I sound impatient again. SHIT. See, I really have to work on this!  :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-7218000311356885447?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/7218000311356885447/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=7218000311356885447' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7218000311356885447'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7218000311356885447'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2010/02/i-am-ready-for-change.html' title='I am ready for change'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-8707811179336857956</id><published>2009-04-06T21:23:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-04-06T22:22:01.299-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Oh umm... I have lots to say.</title><content type='html'>It's been quite a while again since my last post so this one might be full of stuff...n things...&lt;br /&gt;n more stuff.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I moved to &lt;a href="http://www.mississippimills.ca" target="_blank" style="color:yellow"&gt;Almonte Ontario&lt;/a&gt; and it's about a 40 min drive to downtown Ottawa from here. Of course this depends on how fast you drive. That's about average. The Bean and I moved in with The Fiancee and of course my cats came with us. The cats are absolutely loving all of the space here and so are we! We still have quite a bit of rearranging and unpacking and storing to do but hey, it's still awesome. We got a new stove today from our landlord because the old one was a piece of crap.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bean started school last Tuesday and she is loving her new school. She has made quite a few friends already and is not finding the new curriculum hard at all. It's better out here for her French immersion program. Instead of having it full days french like in Ottawa, they split the day and subjects taught in each language in half. When I went from French to English it really screwed with my spelling and stuff. I also really like her teachers. They are really friendly and helpful. The only thing that is lacking is the bus service. They haven't called me back as to why her bus isn't scheduled to pick her up yet. I tried calling on Friday and left a message and then today someone at the school was supposed to find out what was up with the bus but they didn't call back either. This sucks because I had to keep The Bean home today because I couldn't walk to pick her up from school. I HAVE STREP THROAT AGAIN!! Whaaaaa.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why oh why? I just want to be able to be healthy enough to finish unpacking and sorting around here. The week before I moved, Karma really kicked my ass. It decided that because I hadn't packed what I should be packing all month, that it would give me the nastiest sinus cold I have ever had. I never used to get sinus colds. I think I'd like to reverse in age now. I am not liking getting older much right about now.. :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh...there goes the train. Yeah, that's the train that's about umm, less than 50 yards from my backyard. It's loud but you totally get used to it. When we first stayed here it woke me up every morning but now I sleep right through the frigger. He loves to blow his horn 20 times while passing through town. I know, it's mandatory but I am sure the bastard gets a good laugh blowing his horn at 6am every morning. I know I would. heh&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There has been a little bit of "nature" happening in our house. Seems that we have a very old house and along with the old house comes an old basement that is kinda scary. When we first moved in, the cats were let out down there so they would be out of the way for the movers and they got covered in cobwebs and continued to do so as they explored the vast cavernous dungeon, er basement for a few days. This did not bother me. Ever seen a house centipede? Yeah, I am sure you have but have you ever seen a house centipede on steroids?&lt;br /&gt;I did. In fact, I have seen three of them. I have also made The Fiancee deal with the three of them too. Seems like we are going to be doing some caulking. You can never have too much caulk...uhhuh.&lt;br /&gt;The Fiancee and I retired to bed the other night and we were almost asleep when I heard a weird raucous going on in the hallway. It was the cats playing with..something. I was like "shut up cats!" and then I tried to go back to sleep only I heard this weird flappy noise and it was now in our room. I was poking The Fiancee and telling him something weird was going on but he didn't seem to take me seriously or something because he continued to lie there for a bit longer. I figured out what the noise was. It was a bat. BAT. yeah... I think the little frigger got into the basement and well FattyFats (my male cat) decided it was a good toy. He doesn't like to kill little animals he just likes to play with them and then leave them for me or someone else to deal with. Thanks Fatty Fats. Needless to say, The Fiancee chased the damn thing and eventually caught it in a fishing net and put his leather gloves on to throw it out the door. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Ottawa Wedding Show was this past weekend. I went with my new neighbour, my maid of honour and one of my bridesmaids, Maven. The first thing we did after walking through the front and filling out some info was got look at dresses and I tried a bunch on. I feel in love with the second dress I tried on and I bought the thing right there and then! It's exactly the style I was hoping would look good on me. I thought about another style and tried on a dress like it but it was NOT happening. I looked like a frou-frou princess in a nightgown of sorts. The thing that sold me on the dress was also the price. It was weetawdedly cheap! It's an Alfred Sung too so it's not a cheaply made piece of crap either. I am SOOO happy and relieved! That's one less stressor gone. Woot!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-8707811179336857956?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/8707811179336857956/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=8707811179336857956' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/8707811179336857956'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/8707811179336857956'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2009/04/oh-umm-i-have-lots-to-say.html' title='Oh umm... I have lots to say.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-3681331155814817125</id><published>2009-03-14T00:05:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-14T00:13:35.306-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='boogie monster'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='alcohol recovery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='gnarls barkley'/><title type='text'>The Boogie Monster</title><content type='html'>I've got a monster in my closet&lt;br /&gt;Someone's underneath my bed&lt;br /&gt;The wind's knocking at my window&lt;br /&gt;I'd kill it but it's already dead&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It waits till the midnight hour to come&lt;br /&gt;To torture me for the wrong I've done&lt;br /&gt;It just sits there and stares at me&lt;br /&gt;And it won't let me get any sleep&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At first I was scared when I looked at his eyes&lt;br /&gt;But now that I know him I'm not that surprised&lt;br /&gt;I'm just waiting on the sun to rise&lt;br /&gt;Oh how I wish that old sun would rise&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I used to wonder why he looked familiar&lt;br /&gt;Then I realized it was a mirror&lt;br /&gt;And now it is plain to see,&lt;br /&gt;The whole time the monster was me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yeah Mmm The living dead&lt;br /&gt;Only thing that could bring it back alive, Woman&lt;br /&gt;Is some good good head&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;-Gnarls Barkley&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Minus the last verse, this tune reminds me about my recovery from alcohol.&lt;br /&gt;It seems very fitting!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-3681331155814817125?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/3681331155814817125/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=3681331155814817125' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/3681331155814817125'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/3681331155814817125'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2009/03/boogie-monster.html' title='The Boogie Monster'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-1470728967579279905</id><published>2009-03-13T08:41:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-13T09:15:11.540-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='engagement ring'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bridal party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><title type='text'>I have pictures...  ;)</title><content type='html'>Thanks for the comments guys! I am sooo very excited to get married. I have been busily planning stuff for days now. I think I have seen just about every wedding dress ever made, a million different invitations, trying to find a nice spot for our honeymoon and well, pretty much everything and anything you can think of that even remotely smells of wedding.&lt;br /&gt;So, not only am I planning this but I am also supposed to be packing more than I have been. I don't think I have ever had this much time to pack up my belongings before I move and I think I perform much better with only say, 2 days before I have to be out of my place. I have never been evicted from a place if that's what you are thinking. I just have crazy ideas quite often and moving on short notice seems to be one of my all-time "favourites"!&lt;br /&gt;I have asked my close friends to be in my wedding party already..of course. Hehe.&lt;br /&gt;My maid of honour is my oldest best friend whom I have known since grade seven and due to the untimely deaths of both of our mothers within a few years of each other have formed a very special bond.&lt;br /&gt;My bridesmaids are V : I was in her wedding last September and I am happy it's my turn and i have also known her since grade seven. Jobthingy: whom I have known since high school and with whom I have become really close with in recent years. Last but certainly not least is my sponsor, Maven. I knew we were going to be good friends the very first time I met her which was about a year and a bit ago I think and we bonded about vanilla soy lattes. Oh yes, it's always about the lattes. Jobthingy introduced me to this wonderful woman and I am eternally grateful!&lt;br /&gt;Ok, ok...I'll get to the ring. ;)&lt;br /&gt;The BF's mother bought this beautiful ring for him when he was very young with the intention that it would go to his fiancee when the time arose. The time has arisen bitches!...er...something... It's a beautiful sapphire set in the middle surrounded by diamonds. I find this rather funny because I LOVE the combination of blue and white sparklies and I was looking at rings almost identical to this one recently while bored on the computer one night. Here it is:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SbpZ6f8c-6I/AAAAAAAAAB8/hwW9GnnnfiA/s1600-h/DSCF2252.JPG"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SbpZ6f8c-6I/AAAAAAAAAB8/hwW9GnnnfiA/s400/DSCF2252.JPG" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5312657571979262882" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am also going to post a link to our wedding website so y'all can read it and see just how in love and mushy mush-mush we are! ;)&lt;br /&gt;There will also be info for the wedding attendants posted there at some point or another.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://www.andie808.brides.com&lt;br /&gt;(for some reason the insert link thing doesn't work and it's makin me frusterpated!)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have to run. Minnie is freaking out about her mouse and wants me to throw it around for her.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-1470728967579279905?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/1470728967579279905/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=1470728967579279905' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/1470728967579279905'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/1470728967579279905'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2009/03/i-have-pictures.html' title='I have pictures...  ;)'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SbpZ6f8c-6I/AAAAAAAAAB8/hwW9GnnnfiA/s72-c/DSCF2252.JPG' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-8530547952645505219</id><published>2009-03-10T17:02:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2009-03-10T18:25:11.355-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Could Spa Weekend Get Any Better?!</title><content type='html'>WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!&lt;br /&gt;Last weekend I went on a girly excursion. It was wonderful and I was certainly due for some action. My sponsor (Maven) and a bunch of girls did the spa/dinner/dancing and hotel thing. I got my first ever pedicure and it was awesome. I have been doing my own damn feet for far too long. I think I may never want to do my own feet again because they are super efficient at it and I get weird back cramps from bending over to do it...&lt;br /&gt;OK, fine. I just like to be pampered damn it. &lt;br /&gt;I also got my hair cut and did. It looked lovely. Maven got her hair did too and she looked like a different person almost! She's so purty! It took them forever to straighten her hair so me being nice and all have offered to &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;IRON&lt;/span&gt; it for her whenever she wants..you know..like they did in the... caveman times? It's fast and easy as long as you don't really love your hair..... *cue hair-frying noises now* I know, I am too nice.&lt;br /&gt;My pedicure was running late so I stayed behind at the spa and decided to meet them at the restaurant while they got settled into the hotel. I guess my nails needed more dry time so the girl put globs of Vaseline on my nails and toes and saran wrapped the ends of my feet. &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;OH MY GOSH&lt;/span&gt;. It was so gross feeling. I was wearing pointed-toe boots so my toes got all squished together and..well, after getting to the restaurant and not being able to handle it any longer I did something awful. I took my boots off in the stall and wiped down my feet with paper towels and threw the towels and saran wrap in the napkin disposal..LOL&lt;br /&gt;Some cleaning person is going to wonder about that one. I don't think I have to tell you what the Vaseline in the wrap looked like..&lt;br /&gt;*ahem*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was fabulous. We ate at Johnny Farina's which is Italian cuisine. I had really yummy calamari and penne with prosciutto and tonnes of mushrooms in a pesto cream sauce. So ...good. I love not drinking booze. My dinner was unbelievably cheap. LOL&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;After the restaurant we went back to our hotel. We stayed at the Lord Elgin hotel and it is rumoured to be haunted. Apparently some guy got mutilated by the elevator by getting stuck in the doors way back when. I saw no evidence of any ghost that evening unfortunately :/ ...Unless the ghost was the one complaining about us being loud when we got home from the bar.&lt;br /&gt;We chilled there for a while and listened to music while getting ready and I watched the hockey game of course. Sens won. We rule.&lt;br /&gt;We finally made it to the bar and it was a lot of fun. I decided to have a redbull and so did Maven. Maven had never had a redbull or an energy drink period before for that matter. HEHE. That's all I gotta say about that.&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;br /&gt;I got super hyper and danced a whole bunch. My stupid foot was acting all ouchies though. I had to take a few breaks so the killer pain would go away. I had a lot of fun watching the people there get more drunk by the hour. I never realised how sloppy one can look while that drunk..LOL&lt;br /&gt;After the bar we went to Elgin st. dinner for the awesomeness that is poutine there and then we cabbed back to the hotel. We were having a blast in the room getting ready for bed and well, &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;the banging banger&lt;/span&gt; struck. Apparently we were loud? PSHHHHHH&lt;br /&gt;heh&lt;br /&gt;The next day we went downstairs to toomanybucks and I got a latte and then we packed up teh room and left. &lt;br /&gt;I got home and was exhausted from not getting more than 4 hours sleep the night before and I passed out for a little bit while I was waiting for The BF to arrive to pick me up to go to Almonte to the new place. We went to the new place and got the keys. I took some pictures of it which I am going to post on facebook. I wanted to go for a little walk around the town as it was a gorgeous day to do so, so we went down the the falls to look around. I was just about to leave when The BF surprised the &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;CRAP&lt;/span&gt; out of me and asked me to marry him!!!&lt;br /&gt;OMG. It was the perfect day, the place was beautiful and of course I said yes!&lt;br /&gt;I am now engaged to be married on &lt;span style="font-weight:bold;"&gt;OCTOBER 3rd 2009&lt;/span&gt;. That's right. We have even set a date! OMGWTFBBQ?!?!one1!!!&lt;br /&gt;I am soo in love and so very excited to be his wife. &lt;br /&gt;So, yeah..I ask again: could spa weekend get any better?!&lt;br /&gt;WOOO!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-8530547952645505219?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/8530547952645505219/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=8530547952645505219' title='6 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/8530547952645505219'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/8530547952645505219'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2009/03/could-spa-weekend-get-any-better.html' title='Could Spa Weekend Get Any Better?!'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>6</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-1876833460796859386</id><published>2009-02-27T08:56:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-27T09:28:29.828-05:00</updated><title type='text'>It's beginning to look a lot like...WTF?!</title><content type='html'>Yeah, that's right. I have no idea what the hell the weather is telling me. It is all so confusing and awful. Mother Nature is playing a sick joke on us and it's not even April Fool's day. Somehow, it's going from +8 with rain to -18 or something coocoo like that with flurries. OH JOY. So, in one day, I am going to feel like it's Winter, then Spring and then back to Winter in a matter of hours. No wonder I am going through a weird funk right now. My body doesn't know what is up or down, right or left. Yesterday I decided it would be a good idea to crush my finger in the door jam as I was taking Lilli to the bus. Needless to say, I did not take Lilli to the bus as I was rolling on the floor crying like a baby. Thankfully the BF is a quick thinker and he ran to the fridge, grabbed a bad of frozen corn and then his outerwear and was out the door and down the street and back before I even knew what the hell was going on.&lt;br /&gt;I am going to the ballet tonight! I am pretty damn excited. I never thought I would be excited about going to a ballet but hey, I'm over the hill now right? ;)&lt;br /&gt;After the ballet we are having dinner at the NAC restaurant. We looked at their menu online last night and I know I am going to have a hard time deciding what to eat. It's all fancy stuff there. Truffle oil, confit, compote, demi-glazed encrusted kinda stuff.&lt;br /&gt;I am getting crazily excited about moving too. One more month of crappy city living and I am done with riding public transit for ever! Bye bye assholes! No money from me you greedy friggers. No, I am not bitter about the recent strike at ALL. &lt;br /&gt;I am looking forward to the Spa/Dinner/Dancing/Hotel day I am having with my sponsor and her friends. I SO need a spa. I am not touching my feet until then and I am getting a freakin pedicure. I have always wanted to have one done for me instead of doing it myself. I'm going to let someone else deal with my dry feet and crappy toenails for once.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-1876833460796859386?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/1876833460796859386/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=1876833460796859386' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/1876833460796859386'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/1876833460796859386'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2009/02/its-beginning-to-look-lot-likewtf.html' title='It&apos;s beginning to look a lot like...WTF?!'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-2105265103892806422</id><published>2009-02-11T16:36:00.002-05:00</published><updated>2009-02-11T16:57:24.448-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Oi! I have news..and other stuffs.</title><content type='html'>Well, it been a while again. I have been reading a lot so I'm not doing a bunch of writing. Well, that's not true as I am on step 4 of my program right now but I have been busy with that amongst other things.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The BF and I are moving! We found a really nice semi in Almonte for the right price. It has 3 bdrms plus a bath upstairs. The downstairs is really large and it has a den/office in the back of the house which also has a laundry room in it as well. The back room leads to the backyard.. (YAY I can garden!!) and it also has an enclosed front porch for sitting in. Another awesome thing about it is that my friend Lindsay's place is right up the street and we can see each other's places from our own! lol&lt;br /&gt;We will be moving in on April 1st. I am really looking forward to being in a small town as opposed to the city. I can't stand it here any longer. People are so rude and impersonal. We have awful drivers and we were rated the &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;LEAST&lt;/span&gt; courteous city in Canada! It also stinks like sewer here..lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I recently celebrated my 30th birthday. I used to think 30 was So freakin old. LOL&lt;br /&gt;I think I was afraid that as soon as I turned 30 I would instantly go grey in the hair or something. Or maybe my face would melt into an old lady's with jowls and wrinkles! It didn't happen. ...&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I feel awesome and I don't feel any different. My BF and some friends of mine decided to plan a surprise birthday for me last Saturday! I had told my BF a while ago that I never got to celebrate my sweet sixteen properly when I was 16 and that my mother had always promised me a really great one, only she died b4 she could make it happen. SO.. They had it all decorated for a sweet 16! It was the most thoughtful and awesome thing anyone has done for me in a really long time. I am very grateful to have them in my life. I had family and friends show up and we had a dry party because I am not comfortable with booze around me just yet. It was also a potluck and the BF made a super yummy carrot cake that was sugar free :D&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My AA program is going really well. I'm reading a lot, doing the work, going to meetings and this Friday is especially cool for me because my sponsor is going to speak at the meeting. I can't wait! :)&lt;br /&gt;I decided that I want to quit smoking cigarettes as I had always said I would do it once I hit 30. Well, I made a stupid mistake. I need to use the patch because it's just too crazy without it. Instead of having the right patch here ( I have the strongest one and it was making me coocoo) I had to go out and get a pack of smokes because I couldn't get to the pharmacy to get the lesser strength patch at the time. I ended up going yesterday but I am smoking the rest of my pack b4 I start them...lol&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-2105265103892806422?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/2105265103892806422/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=2105265103892806422' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2105265103892806422'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2105265103892806422'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2009/02/oi-i-have-newsand-other-stuffs.html' title='Oi! I have news..and other stuffs.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-5462802797750303733</id><published>2009-01-04T00:49:00.003-05:00</published><updated>2009-01-04T01:36:44.322-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Yeah umm...</title><content type='html'>I am a little behind in blogging. Happy New Year! I figure this year will be a good one considering that nine is my lucky number. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My holidays were fun and packed with bad for you (but really yummy) food, lots of family time and fun things to do. I spent xmas eve over at the BF's parent's place with the Bean and his family. It was a lot of fun. So many presents the next day. Unbelievable. I got some really nice things this year. I am SO fortunate to have a bf like the one I have now. He's so very thoughtful. He brought the Bean out and got a couple of things for her to give to me. I love my new dishes and my snow globe. I also got this awesome print of a lovely painting. It's done by an artist in Merickville who we stumbled across on a visit there to buy mustard. Yes, mustard. It is very good. lol&lt;br /&gt; He remembered what one I said I liked a lot and managed to buy it while we were both in town there shopping for xmas without me knowing. I still have yet to hang the thing. It's pretty huge and I want to find the perfect place for it. Here is a link to the artist's site: http://www.angelinawrona.ca&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There is another big thing going on in my life right now besides the craziness of the holidays. I have joined AA. I have known for quite some time that I have a problem when it comes to alcohol. I am a black-out binge drinker. Way more often than not, I can't handle just having one or two drinks. I most always &lt;span style="font-style:italic;"&gt;intend&lt;/span&gt; on having only one or two but when it gets flowing, it's way too easy to justify having more. It's a sickness. I know that much. My father is one, my mother died being one and as a result of drinking, my grandparents also loved their booze until they got too old and unhealthy to handle it any longer. My uncle is definitely one. He has had liver issues from drinking. Hurray for predisposition! So, you take that into account and the fact that I had some messed up times in my life and boom: alcoholism comes to life. Social events are awkward for me without getting hammered in order to be able to endure being around people and having to have something to say to them. Wondering if they think I am weird or if they think what I say is important, maybe they are just putting up with my sorry ass, I don't know. That is some icky self esteem for you right there. Now, if you get the booze into me, I become the complete opposite. I really don't give two flying fecks if you like me or not, you WILL listen to me ramble and slur about random and inane bullshit and if you wont, well, FECK YOU! I am going to go find someone else who is equally as drunk as I am and they will listen (oh and of course drink more with me.) and if that fails, I'll mumble to myself, get really freakin hammered and go home. &lt;br /&gt;It all started to come to a head recently. I was still binging and the next day (or five) I would be incapable of doing much of anything. Going to the washroom, well that's a chore and a half. Trying not to die (or so it feels) whenever I move or have to get up from the horizontal position I am in really sucks serious ass. Sleeping all of the time when I should be up doing normal stuff. It's just a bad scene all around. I am also afraid that I will not make it through the night sometimes because I have drank way too much. My body is effed and so therefor does NOT reject booze if I have had too much. That's really dangerous. Alcohol poisoning. That's a funny term. I mean, theoretically, even after one sip, you have alcohol poisoning. That is what alcohol is. Poison. I had a nurse at a hospital in St. Catherines tell me that I should be in a coma or dead because of how much alcohol I had in my blood system. I was in there because I got side-swiped by a car while extremely intoxicated and walking down a dark street by myself. Scary.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Anyhooters! I have a sponsor, she's perfect for me. Totally like myself. We relate really well and I feel like I can tell her anything. She's very down-to-earth and that's who I jive with best. People with really open minds, free thinkers, etc.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;New years eve was the biggest challenge I faced so far and it went pretty darn well! I did totally crave the booze but the BF was with me and he didn't drink either so that made it easier. A lot easier to be quite honest. I am so lucky..now I am repeating myself, I know..but damn I am one lucky girl to have someone who cares that deeply about me and wants to support me in my recovery. &lt;br /&gt;We decided it would be fun to take the Bean out for seafood and a game of black light mini putting! The Bean got a hole-in-one on her first try! After we finished that, we dropped her off to her grandma's place and we ended up going to to celebrate the countdown at the big gay party that Jobthingy was hosting. That was a blast. We celebrated by toasting with sparkling apple juice and of course, the kiss. :x&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-5462802797750303733?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/5462802797750303733/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=5462802797750303733' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5462802797750303733'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5462802797750303733'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2009/01/yeah-umm.html' title='Yeah umm...'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-6632002755699368769</id><published>2008-11-19T18:32:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-19T19:38:28.099-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bunny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='field trips'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='death'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='roommates'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cancer'/><title type='text'>RIP Roo...</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SSSiJ5MWCEI/AAAAAAAAABs/7BjsXgyCcRI/s1600-h/Roo.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 358px; height: 400px;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SSSiJ5MWCEI/AAAAAAAAABs/7BjsXgyCcRI/s400/Roo.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5270515754785441858" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You were such a sweetie! I miss your Bunny licks and giving you pets on your head. I miss the sound of you drinking your water and I miss seeing you there when I look over to where you used to be all of the time. I miss watching you eat your lettuce and carrots and the way you smell things with your twitchy little nose.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know this post is a tad late but I was not feeling like blogging about it and then things got busy. My bunbuns Roo passed away last Wednesday. I actually had to put her down. It was one of the toughest decisions I have ever had to make. She was just suffering way too much for me to help her and I couldn't watch it any longer. I have been pretty depressed since Wednesday but I try not to show it too much. Sometimes it can't be helped though. My BF was there with me when it happened and stayed with me to comfort me. My friends were all really nice about it, offering their condolences and such. I am very grateful to have these people in my life. I tried to call my aunt and tell her how bad my bunbuns was doing but she was very preoccupied with her french test results for work. She sent me an email after the fact, asking me how Roo was doing. I was really hoping she could have been there for me a little more because I can't ask my Nanna to do that any longer after the stroke.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The Bean is going on her first all-day field trip next Tuesday. It sounds like it's going to be a lot of fun. They are going to MacSkimming outdoor education center to learn about ecosystems and such. I have volunteered to help and hopefully they call. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I really want my place back to myself. I don't like having roommates. I don't mind helping people out when they need it but I was only expecting him to be here for 2 months tops. It's my fault really though. I said he could stay until he found a suitable place to live but I don't think he's looking all that hard. I also reeeeeeeally hate or well, have problems with saying no. My place is still looking like a tornado hit it because I need to organise stuff and some of it is buried in a closet in his room. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A friend of the BF's died this past Monday. He had been fighting bowel cancer for two years. The BF is pretty upset about it and I have been trying to console him as much as I can. The BF was in the hospital to see him for a few hours on Sunday night and I am glad he got that chance to say goodbye. It's very important, I think.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-6632002755699368769?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/6632002755699368769/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=6632002755699368769' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6632002755699368769'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6632002755699368769'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/11/rip-roo.html' title='RIP Roo...'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SSSiJ5MWCEI/AAAAAAAAABs/7BjsXgyCcRI/s72-c/Roo.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-7063793013468975227</id><published>2008-11-11T15:51:00.004-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-11T16:37:18.090-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homework'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cats'/><title type='text'>Cats are weird, but I love them.</title><content type='html'>I have pretty much figured out THE laziest way to clean up cat food bits off your floor. I ran out of food and couldn't get some until the next day. I woke up and to my amazement, the cats had eaten all their little bits that fell on the floor from them being oinkers. I don't recommend this easy-as-pie cleaning method however. Even though they weren't starving, they sure acted like it. All that loud meowing and walking around under your feet to try and trip you so they can have a good laugh about it later. Damn cats. I have a cat who thinks drinking out of a bowl is absurd. She'd rather dip her paws in there and lick it off them. In doing so, she leaves a lovely puddle on the floor for you to step in. MMmmmm cold wetness.&lt;br /&gt;My BF has been away with work since Saturday and I miss him a lot. He is on his way back home right now but will be too tired to come over tonight. He said he got me a surprise..hehe! I love surprises.&lt;br /&gt;My daughter is doing her homework right now. She has been at it for about 30 mins so far. That seems like a lot for grade 1! I don't remember homework in grade 1 myself.&lt;br /&gt;I have no idea what to make for dinner. I was thinking maybe homemade mac n cheese.&lt;br /&gt;It's going to be another evening of catching up on shows that I taped. Yeehaw.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-7063793013468975227?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/7063793013468975227/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=7063793013468975227' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7063793013468975227'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7063793013468975227'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/11/cats-are-weird-but-i-love-them.html' title='Cats are weird, but I love them.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-3960356904554372113</id><published>2008-11-08T20:21:00.005-05:00</published><updated>2008-11-08T21:17:52.251-05:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bunny'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='vampires'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='chili'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='roses'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past life'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heroes'/><title type='text'>My poor bunbuns :(</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SRZHw4YiZ-I/AAAAAAAAABk/bmJN8p1hs7o/s1600-h/RoonJ.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="float:left; margin:0 10px 10px 0;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SRZHw4YiZ-I/AAAAAAAAABk/bmJN8p1hs7o/s400/RoonJ.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5266475719350970338" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been really busy lately with stuff n things. Life, really. My daughter is staying with me during the weeks now and goes to her father's on weekends and it's been busy with her in full-time school now. That is a picture of my bunny Roo and Jobthingy taken about a year ago. My bunny is very sick and I have been trying every thing I can to get her healthy again but now I am starting to really doubt that is going to happen. It started with her leg, she was favouring one and I thought she bumped it or something. She seemed to recover from it only to go back to favouring it a week or so later. Then she got an eye infection. I decided to take her into the vet to have her checked out and they did some x-rays on her leg and came to the conclusion that it is arthritis and this is something that happens to older bunnies. The doctor checked out her eye and gave me some eye goo to put in there for a week. Last Saturday the BF and I woke up to find her struggling to breathe and her nose was quite bloody. I called just about every vet in Ottawa and none were seeing small animals on the weekend. I ended up making an appointment with my regular vet for Monday. Over the course of a couple of days and including Monday, she seemed to be breathing better but the infection had spread to both eyes now. I took her back to the vet for her appointment and they gave me oral antibiotics this time. She was starting to get better and feel better as she seemed more alert and could breathe just fine but then she took a turn for the worse yesterday. I am still giving her the damn antibiotics but the infection seems to be too bad. I can see her eyes dripping pus and also her nose is and she's all stuffed up with it. I just want to hold her tight and make it all better. I tried to wash off some of the pus and comfort her because she looks like she is going to suffocate and it is breaking my heart. I have till Monday to give her the rest of her antibiotics and I really hope she makes it until then and gets better. She is the sweetest bunny I have ever come across. When she isn't ill all she wants to do is love you with licks and kisses and she loves to have her nose pet in return. She loves going outside on her leash and eating the grass and just lying around in it. Every now and then I can hear her snort really loudly and it scares me because I think she is stopped breathing or something. &lt;br /&gt;I am spending the night at home to watch her and to catching up on some of my PVR'd shows. I am attempting to bead some weird necklaces but I keep giving up because I can't focus! I think maybe I'll make bracelets instead or something because they take less time.&lt;br /&gt;The BF is gone away to Quebec to work a job there. He does about 12 hours of work and is paid $2000 for it. Must be nice! lol.&lt;br /&gt;He'll be back Tuesday or so he said. I am pretty jealous though because he is staying in at a spa while he's there. He brought me roses and imported beer last night. I love him dearly. He's always so very thoughtful! I made a kick-ass chili last night for dinner. I used a bunch of fresh Campari tomatoes and all colours of peppers, mushrooms, onions, garlic, tomato paste, white and red kidney beans and black beans and of course chili powder and cumin. Oh and a dash of cinnamon. I slow-cooked it for hours and then we had garlic bread with it. &lt;br /&gt;Ah yes, I just thought of another thing that has had me pretty busy in the evenings lately. I started watching Heroes the show and had to watch seasons 1 and 2 to catch up. I still have to find the ones from this season that have already aired so I am completely caught up. So far, the first season was much better then the second one. I still have not decided who my favourite character is. I like Hiro because he is so goofy and I have a thing for Japanese culture. I like Clare because I would love to be her. To be able to regenerate and never die. That would rock. It's like being a Vampire without the blood sucking. I can handle that. Oh and well, vamps CAN be killed..apparently. Oh and I like that other chick that can copy what she sees. I forget what her name is right now. I better get back to beading before I get too tired.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-3960356904554372113?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/3960356904554372113/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=3960356904554372113' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/3960356904554372113'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/3960356904554372113'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/11/my-poor-bunbuns.html' title='My poor bunbuns :('/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SRZHw4YiZ-I/AAAAAAAAABk/bmJN8p1hs7o/s72-c/RoonJ.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-2383978469113631687</id><published>2008-10-13T20:53:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-13T21:17:44.281-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Dinner'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Costumes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Halloween'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Heart'/><title type='text'>I have added a widget! (N' Thanksgivin')</title><content type='html'>&lt;a href='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SPPtdBmXbwI/AAAAAAAAABc/WOs92bRl6hk/s1600-h/hallo+054.jpg'&gt;&lt;img src='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SPPtdBmXbwI/AAAAAAAAABc/WOs92bRl6hk/s320/hallo+054.jpg' border='0' alt=''style='clear:both;float:left; margin:0px 10px 10px 0;' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&amp;nbsp;&lt;div style='clear:both; text-align:LEFT'&gt;&lt;a href='http://picasa.google.com/blogger/' target='ext'&gt;&lt;img src='http://photos1.blogger.com/pbp.gif' alt='Posted by Picasa' style='border: 0px none ; padding: 0px; background: transparent none repeat scroll 0% 50%; -moz-background-clip: initial; -moz-background-origin: initial; -moz-background-inline-policy: initial;' align='middle' border='0' /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Hey hey, I added that "followers" widget to my blog page. If you read my blog please click on it :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That picture was taken last Halloween and it is Speedy on the left and the Bean on the right. Speedy is Jobthingy's daughter. The Bean has finally decided on being a witch this year and I am very excited to dress her up!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I had an interesting weekend. On Friday some friends came over and we played some guitar hero and they left around midnight to go to a bar. Saturday I started to feel like I was getting a cold. I had a sore throat and I was coughing up some yucky stuff. I spent the day on the couch feeling rather sore and not like doing much. I got a scary phone call from the BF while he was away at his cottage with his family. He called me early in the morning and told me his father had had a heart attack while they were asleep and he was taken to the nearest hospital. The poor BF was also sick as a dog with some crazy stomach weirdness. I was cursing that he was so far away (about 5 hours or something) and that I couldn't take care of him or be there for him with regards to his father. That was poo. &lt;br /&gt;The good news is that he didn't have a heart attack and it's supposedly a virus that gives you severe heart pain. Lovely eh? He's expected to have more attacks every six weeks until it's gone. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Thanksgiving dinner was el yummo. My aunt made a HUGE turkey. The thing was about 28 lbs. It was ridiculously large for the number of people we had over there. Her BF bought it for them and then ended up not being able to come to dinner because he was away on business in Vegas. My cousin Drewdaddy had his GF there from Burlington and my cousin Bex had her BF there as well. It was weird being around them now that they are all teens. Bex's BF started play fighting with her and pinned her to the floor and so I gave him a nice noogy.&lt;br /&gt;I was completely stuffed from diner and had a glass of red wine to boot. I brought home some awesome leftovers and was pretty ready for bed when I got in. The Bean was given some presents that were waiting for her since her birthday..lol&lt;br /&gt;She got clothes, a math book and a fun game of questions and answers for kids in grade 1. We played some of that before she went to bed this evening.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I spent today doing a lot of cleaning and organising around the house. I ended up having to run tot he corner store for some things that I needed for the Bean's lunch tomorrow. She played in the park and then I ordered diner because I was too tired from cleaning. Good times.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-2383978469113631687?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/2383978469113631687/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=2383978469113631687' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2383978469113631687'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2383978469113631687'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/10/blog-post.html' title='I have added a widget! (N&apos; Thanksgivin&apos;)'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SPPtdBmXbwI/AAAAAAAAABc/WOs92bRl6hk/s72-c/hallo+054.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-3110956971664327776</id><published>2008-10-11T20:33:00.006-04:00</published><updated>2008-10-12T14:54:16.607-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Family'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Thanksgiving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Hoffman Quadrinity Process'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Suicide'/><title type='text'>16 years</title><content type='html'>Sixteen years ago today was the day I woke up and found my mother in her room after she commited suicide by overdose. That day changed my life drastically and I will never forget how alone I felt that day. I continued to feel alone for a number of years despite having a small family and a lot of friends. I even gained a father that day because my mother was the one who was keeping us from seeing eachother. I still get that feeling of being all alone in this world or being an outcast. I'm working on fixing that though. I used to really hate Thanksgving because it reminded me of what I lost on Oct. 11, 1992. My mother had even picked out what she was wearing to our family's dinner. She didn't leave a note and I still don't know if it was intentional or not. I'm pretty sure she meant to do it but I think it was a lapse of reason for she was drinking alone in her room that night. Drinking and taking sleeping pills do not mix all that well. I don't recommend it!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to visit her grave on Thursday with the BF. I bought these really pretty roses and I left them there for her and one for my grandfather who is also buried at Beechwood Cemetary. The BF said something that really made me think and that was that I can't hate Thanksgiving forever. He is right. I need to look past the past and to the right now. My daughter is healthy and intelligent, my cats are healthy, I am kind of healthy (work in progress), I DO have family. Some people don't even have that. I have a wonderful BF who is so loving and caring. He brought me flowers on Thursday and they are beautiful. I can't stop thinking about him and how much I love him. I know he loves me just as much because he shows it and tells me it every day. I am one lucky girl!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have my family's dinner to look forward to tomorrow and I don't want the Bean to grow up not liking Thanksgiving. She deserves better than that and so do I. I know what happens, happens for a reason and if things didn't go exactly as they did in my life, I would not have all of these people around me whom I love dearly. I suppose after thinking about it for a while, I really am not alone at all and there is no need to feel lonely like I was used to feeling. I came to terms with and forgave my mother for what happened in 2003 and that was the most liberating day I have ever had. Letting go of all that anger and the shame felt so enlightening and relieving. Thank you Hoffman Quadrinity Process.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-3110956971664327776?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/3110956971664327776/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=3110956971664327776' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/3110956971664327776'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/3110956971664327776'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/10/16-years.html' title='16 years'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-2504385171660935869</id><published>2008-09-29T21:14:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-29T21:22:25.763-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='landlord'/><title type='text'>Goodbye Mr. Morris!</title><content type='html'>I was sitting here minding my own business at the computer when I got a loud knock at my door. I was like "who is that coming here so late?" I got up, opened the door and found my landlord standing there with this lady and this young girl. That's when the lady spoke up and said "hello, I am your new landlord." I was like.."What? The building is sold?" and my old landlord just stood there and had this weird look on his face. He didn't say a thing about selling the place although he did have some insurance people come by and it made me wonder what was up. So yeah, just like that, I have a new landlady. She looks like an Orleans soccer mom. Her name is Suzanne Yelle. LOL&lt;br /&gt;I hope she doesn't like to yell.&lt;br /&gt;Poor thing has NO idea what she got herself into buying this building though.&lt;br /&gt;I had been after my landlord for months to fix quite a few things around here and he was saying he needed to do this and that and never got around to it. Poor woman just bought herself a money pit. I hope she knows.&lt;br /&gt;I'm really hoping that she will be a better owner and fix this place up like it needs to be. We shall see.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-2504385171660935869?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/2504385171660935869/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=2504385171660935869' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2504385171660935869'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2504385171660935869'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/09/goodbye-mr-morris.html' title='Goodbye Mr. Morris!'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-131873990315522853</id><published>2008-09-28T21:03:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-28T22:03:34.077-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='School'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Amethyst'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Mineral'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Celestite'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='Gem'/><title type='text'>Pretty Sparkly Things and Other Things Too.</title><content type='html'>Okies, so it's Sunday evening and I am at home. I have put the Bean to bed and I am just mucking around on the computer for a bit. This weekend was a lot of fun. Yesterday I took the Bean to her classmate's birthday party at Cosmic Adventures. It was a hoot. The parents and friends of the girl's parents were nice and down-to-earth like myself. I had never seen it so damn packed in there. It was insane seeing so many kids going crazy climbing all over things all at once. She had an awesome time and then the BF came over and he made us a lovely dinner. He's so sexy in the kitchen! Meow. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have been waiting for this day to come all year. Today it was the Annual Ottawa Gem and Mineral show held at the Nepean Sportsplex. I went with the Bean and the BF. We had a good time walking around looking at all the neat specimins of rocks, fossils, gemstones and other things they had for sale there. I got myself a beautiful piece of a Celestite geode, a really nice flat chevron Amethyst stone that I plan to wire wrap for a pendant at some point and a beautiful new Amethyst ring that the BF bought for me. It sparkles and I can't stop staring at it. I'm such a typical woman when it comes to jewelry. I love it so much. xoxo&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Last Thursday was meet the teacher night at the Bean's school. I didn't go because I was feeling ill but her dad took her there. I got the full report on the phone and he said that her teacher said she was a model student and always the first to put her hand up and help out. She also told him that the Bean has the most best-behaviour stickers out of all the students in her class. I am SO proud!!&lt;br /&gt;She's definitely mommy's little girl in that respect :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-131873990315522853?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/131873990315522853/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=131873990315522853' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/131873990315522853'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/131873990315522853'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/09/pretty-sparkly-things-and-other-things.html' title='Pretty Sparkly Things and Other Things Too.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-256095947592543766</id><published>2008-09-15T16:15:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-09-15T16:37:22.114-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='wedding'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='stress'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='babies'/><title type='text'>holy crapola.</title><content type='html'>I have not written in a while and ther is so much I should have written about already but I just didn't have the time nor the interest. I ended up getting a job but not being able to actually go to work at it because the Bean's school would not accomodate my request to have her take a different bus on my weeks so she could go to Jobthingy's before and after work. This was So frustrating because some schools do in fact accomodate this but mine is retarded and last year they actually LOSt a kid for hours and he wasn't found until evening. So, because they made a mistake, I have to suffer. My aunt was nice enough to help me out with some money but it hasn't covered everything I needed it to. I need to find a job with hours that work for me because I need the moeny but it's hard to find that right now. It would need to be close to home and they would have to be very flexible with my hours as I can only work during the time the Bean is at school. The stress never seems to end!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This past Saturday my best friend that I have known since we were 13, got married. I was in the bridal party and I spent entirely too much money that I really didn't have. It was worth it though to see her and be there for her at this very special time for her. The weather was perfect, the ceremony went really well and the rest of the day was just wonderful, except for that migraine I got from not wearing my glasses to have hair and make-up done. Thankfully there was Advil. &lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now for the crazy news. The BF is most likely the father of a baby boy who is one month old and lives way up North. He was working up there and things happened with this girl. He left her his number just because, I imagine he was not thinking about pregnancy but just being nice. She called him a couple of times and he found out she was pregnant but she didn't leave a number that was reachable and she didn't try and contact him again for months on end. Well, she finally left a number the other day and he spoke with her and told him that she did in fact have a child and that he is the father. She has given the child up to her Aunt for adoption but The BF really wants his child should it be his. He is going to have a test done to make sure and if it is his child, he wants to bring him here to Ottwa to live with him. I told him that I would help him in any way I can and I do support this with all of my heart. I think I am in shock and I am definitely having mixed feelings about how I feel about this. I love him SO much and I would do anything for him. I guess I would be playing the role of mom in this case and I think it's great but I am so sad that it wasn't me that had his first child. It's been eating at me ever since we spoke about it last night. I wanted to be the special one who was able to give him his first born and now that is not looking possible. I know that he was not there for the pregnancy or birth and I can still give him that later but it still hurts. I am just all messed up right now and I am trying to quit smoking at the same time!&lt;br /&gt;He wants to get things sorted ASAP and so that means a big change in my life. We would be moving in together and moving out of my current place which I absolutely love. I am totally torn and happy all at the same time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-256095947592543766?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/256095947592543766/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=256095947592543766' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/256095947592543766'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/256095947592543766'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/09/holy-crapola.html' title='holy crapola.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-4665765327309514118</id><published>2008-08-26T20:26:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-26T20:44:00.162-04:00</updated><title type='text'>You're fired!</title><content type='html'>That is what Life said when it called me into it's office today.&lt;br /&gt;I am in a pretty foul mood, I must say.&lt;br /&gt;Ok, maybe foul isn't the right word. Hopeless? Annoyed? Those work.&lt;br /&gt;So for dinner tonight I am eating a plate of cous cous. Plain with a clove of garlic and some margarine for some flavour. OK spellcheck...I live in CANADA, I DID spell flavour right. Damn it. The night before I ate some leftovers and the night before that I had plain rice with soy sauce. I am so broke it isn't even funny. Not only am I broke but I owe money to people that will make me even more broke when payday comes. &lt;br /&gt;How did it get this bad? &lt;br /&gt;A combination of bad money management on my part, a break up that cost me money and my benefits being gouged by the fucking government.&lt;br /&gt;The BF is being really nice and helping me with my resume because I NEED to make more money. My anxiety level is retarded and I just don't know how to cope with this right now.&lt;br /&gt;I have a job interview tomorrow for a house cleaning agency. I'm a bit nervous as I have not been to an interview since before my daughter was born but I'll survive. My worry now is that I wont even be making enough money to pay for the childcare I am going to need to be able to actually go OUT and work.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I sent my aunt an email pleading with her to lend my money so I can pay off my bills and have them stay low with no late interest charges and she hasn't written me back. I HATE asking my family for help because every time I do, I am made to feel incompetent and as if money was more important than family. It's not even just money though. My family that really only consists of my aunt right now (my Nanna is too ill to deal with anything)is always way too busy to do anything to help. I have not seen my aunt since my cousin's BBQ which was a couple of months ago and she even forgot The Bean's birthday this year. &lt;br /&gt;My "other" family which is my father and two half sisters aren't able to be there for me in any way really. My dad is slowing dying from not taking care of himself and his diabetes and my sisters are well, kinda fucked up themselves.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;On top of all of this wonderfulness, I have to pay for my dress to be fitted, my hair and makeup and a gift for the upcoming wedding.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;At this point I just kinda want to go to sleep and not wake up for a very long time.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-4665765327309514118?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/4665765327309514118/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=4665765327309514118' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/4665765327309514118'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/4665765327309514118'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/08/youre-fired.html' title='You&apos;re fired!'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-2758303959247420136</id><published>2008-08-19T22:19:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-20T18:14:09.539-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='party'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthday'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bachelorette'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='champagne'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='drinking'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='club'/><title type='text'>Been a Few.</title><content type='html'>So, this past Friday I was feeling pretty ill. I had some weird bug that was making me throw up and other things.. :s&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was pretty worried because I knew I had to be in good shape for V's bachelorette party on Saturday eve. I managed to get through, the BF came over and spent time with me. I ended up going to bed and feeling much better the next day. This brings me to Saturday. The BF had to go do some stuff during the day but he was nice and said he would watch The Bean for me that night so I could attend my best friends party, I AM one of the bride's maids after all ^_^&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Saturday eve rolls around and I had been resting most of the day so I would be up to going out, The BF comes over again and we have dinner and I get all showered and ready to go.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I leave the house and make the trek to C's house where we are starting off the night proper with games and food, champagne and other sorts of booze. I get there and I was running kinda late so I was glad to see that a lot of people were doing the same. We had a great time playing truth or dare. V chose "dare" and it was to have everyone in  the room spank her bum. I was laughing because I am pretty damn good at spanking bums and to be clear, not kids bums :p&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We took our turns and mine came up and I spanked her nice and hard, she yelped and my hand was burning. That is a sign of a job well done! ;)&lt;br /&gt;V goes to sit back down on the couch after and somehow her champagne ends up all over her lap. Poor thing! It's a good thing she was wearing a type of skirt that dries fast. A few turns went by and Holly chooses "dare" too. Since a bunch of their BFs are at Wannabe Country Music Star's Bachelor party for the night, I offered up mine for this specific dare. The dare was to prank call someone. So we came up with the idea to call my BF about a stripper who was ready to go but the company had lost the address. It was too funny! Apparently The BF said "But...I thought there wasn't supposed to be a stripper?" He's too adorable. He caught on when I couldn't hold in my giggles any longer. It started a round of giggles from the other girls who couldn't hold theirs in either. lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We had some more drinks and then had to take off for the club we were going to downtown. Since it was a bachelorette, the place was giving us Guest List and free entry and what they deemed as champagne. Spumanti Bambino is NOT champagne, it's barf! lol&lt;br /&gt;Anyhoo, the place was really nice and had a beautiful patio out front which was nice for chillin on because the night was warm enough. I don't think I have seen V that drunk since we just turned adults and were going out to bars often. It was a blast. The drinks were yummy and all the girls were a lot of fun to party with. V somehow went over on her shoe and busted a strap. She got an elastic from somewhere and held her shoe together that way the rest of the night. &lt;br /&gt;She had an awesome time though and that is all that counts! :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, this weekend I am doing something special for The BF because it's his birthday on the following Monday. I am keeping it a secret but it's really hard for me because I want to tell him! I am still planning things and will be all week I imagine. I am silly like that ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-2758303959247420136?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/2758303959247420136/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=2758303959247420136' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2758303959247420136'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2758303959247420136'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/08/been-few.html' title='Been a Few.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-4650283524538367002</id><published>2008-08-14T20:45:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T20:53:26.769-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='shelter'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cats'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='homeless'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adoption'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='pets'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='ottawa humane society'/><title type='text'>CATS IN NEED!</title><content type='html'>oOOOOoo&lt;br /&gt;It makes me SO mad to see seven pages of unwanted cats at the Ottawa Humane Society. Mad and sad all at once. I started crying when I saw all those poor kitties who need a loving home. Cats are not a fucking accessory. They are not a cute Christmas present to give someone else. They are not just a silly animal to keep you company until you get a significant other or if a baby comes along. I can understand if your baby is VERY allergic, but just because you don't have the time like you used to, is NOT a valid excuse to get rid of your cat! Seven pages of cats and that's ten cats per page. You do the math. Animals have feelings too. If you read my blog and are thinking of getting a new kitty, please, PLEASE check out your local shelter before buying a new one from a breeder or a pet store. Just think of how happy the kitty will be to have a home to roam around instead of a shelter cage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;/end rant.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-4650283524538367002?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/4650283524538367002/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=4650283524538367002' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/4650283524538367002'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/4650283524538367002'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/08/ooooooo-it-makes-me-so-mad-to-see-seven.html' title='CATS IN NEED!'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-9135600935468987611</id><published>2008-08-14T20:10:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-14T20:20:41.916-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='song lyrics'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='longing'/><title type='text'>Innocence Lost</title><content type='html'>downward&lt;br /&gt;my heart goes&lt;br /&gt;falling&lt;br /&gt;it feels low&lt;br /&gt;onward&lt;br /&gt;I can't see&lt;br /&gt;stuck&lt;br /&gt;oh pity me&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when I was young&lt;br /&gt;the world so bright&lt;br /&gt;so full of things&lt;br /&gt;to my delight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;forever&lt;br /&gt;it seems to far&lt;br /&gt;now&lt;br /&gt;I want more&lt;br /&gt;hopeless&lt;br /&gt;this heart of mine&lt;br /&gt;secluded&lt;br /&gt;in my own mind&lt;br /&gt; &lt;br /&gt;when I was young&lt;br /&gt;the world so bright&lt;br /&gt;so full of things&lt;br /&gt;to my delight&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;treasure&lt;br /&gt;the times with you&lt;br /&gt;nostalgic&lt;br /&gt;of skies so blue&lt;br /&gt;innocence&lt;br /&gt;where have you gone&lt;br /&gt;empty&lt;br /&gt;where do I belong?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;when I was young&lt;br /&gt;the world so bright&lt;br /&gt;so full of things&lt;br /&gt;to my delight&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-9135600935468987611?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/9135600935468987611/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=9135600935468987611' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/9135600935468987611'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/9135600935468987611'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/08/innocence-lost.html' title='Innocence Lost'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-6212090492669136092</id><published>2008-08-13T20:21:00.008-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-13T20:50:45.410-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Eat, Poop, Eat Poop?</title><content type='html'>Well, it was my daughter's 6th birthday today. We had a very nice party for her with pizza and cake and all that fun stuff. She got quite a few gifts but the best one of all had to be Barbie and her dog Tanner. Awww cute isn't it? Barbie has a doggy! Of course to be more realistic, the dog poops. Not only does it poop but it eats and miraculously, the poop and the food are identical. Ok, so it's not all that miraculous. You put the dog food (which looks like brown tictacs btw) into the dog's mouth and then press on the tail and OH oh!! It did a poopies! Barbie comes complete with a pooper scooper and a poop trash which converts into a doggy treat box. So, basically, this dog eats and poops the same shit over and over. Pun intended.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;http://ca.youtube.com/watch?v=ke2Jyf6rXQ8&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Just in case you didn't believe me. &lt;br /&gt;What will they think of next?&lt;br /&gt;A pooping Barbie?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;hmmmmm...&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We were thinking "Watersports Barbie" might take off....&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;for Adults.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And here is The Bean opening the necklace I made her..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SKOBOR6NrdI/AAAAAAAAABE/y9PhRdgZ1Lc/s1600-h/JUL08+154.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SKOBOR6NrdI/AAAAAAAAABE/y9PhRdgZ1Lc/s400/JUL08+154.jpg" border="0" alt=""id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5234169274260368850" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I *think* she liked it ;)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-6212090492669136092?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/6212090492669136092/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=6212090492669136092' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6212090492669136092'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6212090492669136092'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/08/eat-poop-eat-poop.html' title='Eat, Poop, Eat Poop?'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SKOBOR6NrdI/AAAAAAAAABE/y9PhRdgZ1Lc/s72-c/JUL08+154.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-2264295114574303403</id><published>2008-08-11T23:28:00.007-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T23:58:16.655-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='necklace'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='bathrooms'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cleaning'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='adult ADD'/><title type='text'>Almost Finished..(kinda, sorta)</title><content type='html'>I was able to get a few things done today that I wanted to do. Yay me.&lt;br /&gt;I managed to tackle, yep, tackle the bathroom. It had seen much better days. Gone are the tooth paste droplets on the mirror and the lovely "ring around the toilet". The dust that makes me want to scratch off my nose and gouge out my eyes is no longer. I cleaned off my rather large full length mirror and now I am kind of regretting it because I can clearly see how large my arse is. For some reason or another it seemed smaller when the mirror was blurred. Who knew?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I took a few breaks in between to "pimp mah blog" earlier. I have adult A.D.D. and it really gets difficult to stay focused on what I am cleaning. I'll find something that needs to be put away in another room and get distracted by something and forget I am cleaning. This happens at least 10 times a day or cleaning session if you will. Sometimes I think about putting up little sticky notes all over the place saying "Are you doing something &lt;span style="font-style: italic;"&gt;else&lt;/span&gt; right now?" but then I wonder how much more crazy my friends will think I am. Hmmmmm.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I managed to start doing some of the jewelery I wanted to make The Bean for her birthday.&lt;br /&gt;Here is a shot of the almost done necklace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SKEJCJo-cCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/vXKYRp_TSkM/s1600-h/JUL08+151.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0px auto 10px; display: block; text-align: center; cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SKEJCJo-cCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/vXKYRp_TSkM/s400/JUL08+151.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233474174533398562" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I think she'll really like this one because it looks like a princess necklace. LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-2264295114574303403?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/2264295114574303403/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=2264295114574303403' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2264295114574303403'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2264295114574303403'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/08/almost-finishedkinda-sorta.html' title='Almost Finished..(kinda, sorta)'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SKEJCJo-cCI/AAAAAAAAAA8/vXKYRp_TSkM/s72-c/JUL08+151.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-2807803877785350948</id><published>2008-08-11T17:37:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-11T17:50:04.707-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Some song lyrics I like.</title><content type='html'>&lt;div style="width: 240px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 240px;"&gt;&lt;div style="width: 240px;"&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Matthew Good Band&lt;br /&gt;The Future Is X-Rated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                          &lt;div style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px;" id="songlyrics" align="left"&gt;There's holes up in the sky&lt;br /&gt;             the devil punched down to the monkeys&lt;br /&gt;             and now they've got drive through&lt;br /&gt;             and a video store where there used to be real live actors&lt;br /&gt;             used to ride around here&lt;br /&gt;             up on my high horse&lt;br /&gt;             with all the other good little butcher boys&lt;br /&gt;             a plagiarist of course&lt;br /&gt;             so roll over sweet thing&lt;br /&gt;             like a nuclear reprisal inbound from outer space&lt;br /&gt;             there's a comparison here I'm trying to swing&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             god damn it's deafening&lt;br /&gt;             wish you'd shut up about everything&lt;br /&gt;             the future is x-rated&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             there's holes up in the sky&lt;br /&gt;             and no one's seen your son in days&lt;br /&gt;             and things just keep getting weirder and weirder&lt;br /&gt;             and now Christmas is for shopping&lt;br /&gt;             and the shopping god is everything&lt;br /&gt;             so roll over and lose it&lt;br /&gt;             'cause power is just another one of those things baby&lt;br /&gt;             it's pointless if you ain't gonna use it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;             god damn it's deafening&lt;br /&gt;             wish you'd shut up about everything&lt;br /&gt;             the future is x-rated&lt;br /&gt;             used to ride around here on my high-high horse&lt;/div&gt;&lt;h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;h4&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;h4&gt;Matthew Good Band&lt;br /&gt;A Boy And His Machine Gun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/h4&gt;&lt;/div&gt;                          &lt;div style="font-family: verdana; font-size: 13px;" id="songlyrics" align="left"&gt;Don't move, stay right where you are&lt;br /&gt;Talking can only give you away&lt;br /&gt;There's so nothing to say&lt;br /&gt;The voices say hello&lt;br /&gt;Imprisoned, they're invisible&lt;br /&gt;We look at lot alike, we look a lot alike&lt;br /&gt;This is boring, all we talk about is you&lt;br /&gt;Come on give me a reason&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A boy and his machine gun&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're finished struggling&lt;br /&gt;Are you free tonight?&lt;br /&gt;Did they stick you in here cause&lt;br /&gt;You weren't working right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Don't move, stay just like you are&lt;br /&gt;You look sane motionless like that&lt;br /&gt;So very flat&lt;br /&gt;It's amazing what velocity can do&lt;br /&gt;When human beings are in season&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;A boy and his machine gun&lt;br /&gt;If you're quiet we might see some&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When you're finished struggling&lt;br /&gt;Are you free tonight?&lt;br /&gt;Did they stick you in here cause&lt;br /&gt;You weren't working right?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;There's a TV in every room&lt;br /&gt;And it's free, even pay-per-view&lt;br /&gt;Which you'll need if no one's going to visit you&lt;br /&gt;Animal, fucking animal&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I know who you're waiting for&lt;br /&gt;No one's coming though&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So fuck you and your principles&lt;br /&gt;Fuck whatever made me&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps you think I'm evil&lt;br /&gt;What does it matter if we're crazy?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;/div&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-2807803877785350948?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/2807803877785350948/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=2807803877785350948' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2807803877785350948'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2807803877785350948'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/08/some-song-lyrics-i-like.html' title='Some song lyrics I like.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-2362660393770897373</id><published>2008-08-10T20:21:00.000-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-10T20:21:15.995-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='kids'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='birthdays'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='jewelery'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='evil email'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='children'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='camping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fishing'/><title type='text'>There's always a first for something..</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SJ-FCIFK1nI/AAAAAAAAAAg/wF44ToSVLnY/s1600-h/DSCF1682.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="margin: 0pt 0pt 10px 10px; float: right; cursor: pointer;" src="http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SJ-FCIFK1nI/AAAAAAAAAAg/wF44ToSVLnY/s320/DSCF1682.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5233047563603203698" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Wow.&lt;br /&gt;I got back from an amazing camping trip on Tuesday night. I have been recovering and trying to get everything in order at my place ever since. The weather was really good to us when we were camping. The first day we were there it rained pretty hard. It was like a torrential down pour! The whole site got flooded and so did The Bean's tent. Fortunately for us, The BF's parents had a trailer there and she was able to sleep in dry conditions for the night.&lt;br /&gt;The rest of the time we were there it was so hot and sunny! I got a crazy tan that started out as a burn. We spent the days going to the beach and swimming, going to the store to get The Bean some ice cream and stuff and relaxing. On Sunday it was the anniversary dinner and we all had steak dinner. His family are really nice people.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am SO proud of my little Bean! The BF bought her an early birthday present and he got her a fishing rod. It's her first real one seeing as the Dora one she had before wouldn't even be able to catch a dead fish in a barrel. We took her out for her first time in a canoe and she caught her very first fishy! It was a little Pike and she reeled it on all by herself. She was so happy and proud. Awwwww :)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I have much jewelery making to do for her present. She has been bugging me for more of her own for a while now. I figure she'll really like what I make her. I'm thinking some stretchy bracelets and a nice necklace.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't believe she's going to be 6. I swear I just gave birth to that little girl a couple of years ago, but no, it has been 6 years! Everyone tried to tell me how time would fly by so quickly but I didn't think they meant this fast. At this rate she's going to be taller than me in 2 years and in a few more, people will probably think I am her older sister :/&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes I wish they would make clothes and shoes that stretch with your child as they grow. It seems her feet are growing like weeds and she just keeps getting taller by the month. I tried putting a brick on her head when she was little but that didn't stop her from growing unfortunately. ..&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went to visit my Nanna today. I was afraid I would run into the Uncle there and I was right! The coast looked clear at first see, because I checked the log in book at the home and nope, no Uncle. The BF and I went upstairs to her room and visited for a while and I thought I was going to get away with not seeing him. Damn. In he walks with his girlfriend (whom I like a lot) and I was stuck. Stuck in a room with him and we put on a nice front for Nanna so as to not upset her. It felt uncomfortable and tense, or at least I did. I wish he would just grab a brain and stop being such a condescending arsehole. Very angry and hypocritical man, he is. I swallowed my pride (and my tongue) once before with him but after his last thingy with the evil email, I am waiting for an apology.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-2362660393770897373?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/2362660393770897373/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=2362660393770897373' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2362660393770897373'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2362660393770897373'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/08/theres-always-first-for-something.html' title='There&apos;s always a first for something..'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://4.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SJ-FCIFK1nI/AAAAAAAAAAg/wF44ToSVLnY/s72-c/DSCF1682.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-8132193244522045817</id><published>2008-08-09T20:38:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-08-09T20:40:30.258-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='past life'/><title type='text'>HA..this is so fitting.</title><content type='html'>&lt;span style="font-size:85%;"&gt;Your past life diagnosis:&lt;/span&gt;&lt;hr /&gt; I don't know how you feel about it, but you were female in your last earthly incarnation.You were born somewhere in the territory of modern North Africa around the year 525. Your profession was that of a librarian, priest or keeper of tribal relics.&lt;hr /&gt; Your brief psychological profile in your past life:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color:silver;"&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);"&gt;Seeker of truth and wisdom. You could have seen your future lives. Others perceived you as an idealist illuminating path to future&lt;/span&gt;.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;hr /&gt; The lesson that your last past life brought to your present incarnation:&lt;br /&gt;&lt;span style="color: rgb(0, 0, 0);" &gt;Your lesson is to develop a kind attitude towards people, and to acquire the gift of understanding and compassion.&lt;/span&gt;&lt;hr /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-8132193244522045817?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/8132193244522045817/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=8132193244522045817' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/8132193244522045817'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/8132193244522045817'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/08/hathis-is-so-fitting.html' title='HA..this is so fitting.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-6638858109530725214</id><published>2008-07-30T11:17:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T11:31:40.791-04:00</updated><title type='text'>More babble...</title><content type='html'>Holy crap. I just couldn't write any longer last night but still have stuff to say.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This weekend coming up is going to be a lot of fun. I'm going camping with the Bean and the BF in far far away land. It's going to take us 7 hours to get there by car. I think the last time I took a long driving trip was to rescue my best friend from a terrible relationship when she was living in Meaford ON. That was about 3 years ago now I think or maybe even 4. I am used to long drives though. I have been to Sauble Beach a few times and down to the states to Washington D.C. . The longest drive however, was the one when I came home from Ft. McMurray Alberta. Man that was long! Today I really have to get stuff done here at home such as laundry, packing and taking the garbage out because I wont be here in time to put it out next week. The Bean's grandma is going to take car of the many pets I own. Thank goodness she just moved in next door ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I am going to be meeting a lot of the BF's family while up there because it's a big celebration thingy. I'm, kind of nervous as I always am when meeting family of a significant other, but I'm pretty sure I wil get over that once we are up there.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I can't wait to be in nature again. I always feel more alive when I am surrounded by her beauty. I'm pretty sure I need to get out of the city and move to somewhere where I can wander for hours in nature and just be. The city makes me tense and it smells funny! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;My kitties are so going to hate me when I leave them again. One of them gets so mad he wont talk to me for about 30 minutes but then he gives in because he can't resist the McLovin. Heh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm going to have to stop at a store before we get out of town a buy a few things to go up. I need some Afterbite for mosquitoes because I seem to be quite allergic to their bites and swell up and itch like mad. I also need to get camping sized shampoo and conditioner and some glow sticks.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yipee! I cannot wait :)&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-6638858109530725214?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/6638858109530725214/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=6638858109530725214' title='3 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6638858109530725214'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6638858109530725214'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/07/holy-crap.html' title='More babble...'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>3</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-481332684001010815</id><published>2008-07-29T20:48:00.005-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-30T12:42:50.680-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='cottaging'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tents'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='tuna handshake'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='camping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fishing'/><title type='text'>wowee zowee</title><content type='html'>&lt;a onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}" href="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SJCZqPCj8pI/AAAAAAAAAAY/BzDvyMKKVXk/s1600-h/DSCF1544.jpg"&gt;&lt;img style="cursor: pointer;" src="http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SJCZqPCj8pI/AAAAAAAAAAY/BzDvyMKKVXk/s320/DSCF1544.jpg" alt="" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5228848118247977618" border="0" /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It would seem I have much to blog about. It's Tuesday and I have yet to get to blogging about the awesome weekend I had camping with Jobthingy and of course, my sweetie. Friday eve we got started on the trek there but we had to stop for groceries first so we stopped in at one in town before we got on the road. The drive up there was gorgeous and it was just as the sun was setting. We accidentally..heh, due to my silliness and I "think" bad Quebec road signs, took a wrong turn off the highway but thankfully the BF is a smartie pants and he pulled over so I could call for directions. We got back on our way and stopped in at the Dep for beer and fishing licenses and we were off down this seemingly never-ending and very winding road to the cottage.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We finally arrived and it was getting dark so the nice people who owned the place let us use a spare room in the cottage for the first night. We sat around shooting the shit, drinking beer, the BF and I went in skinny dipping and we ended up watching the campfire. While we were sitting there, one guy turns to Jobthingy and asks if he can take us to a dark corner to show us something. LOL! He just wanted to take us over to the dark spot to show us the stars, but we laughed about that one all weekend. It was a nice night and you could see thousands of stars up there in the sky. I really miss seeing that living in the stupid city with all this light pollution.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We ended up going to bed last and it was a bit hard to sleep with E's snoring and sleep apnea that he had no idea about, but I managed. I woke up pretty early and then the people started to get up so we were pretty much up for a while. I was slightly hung-over but not bad, slight anxiety. The BF made me a nice breakfast (Goddess Bless him!) and we ended up going back for a nap. I fell alseep pretty easliy because I think I was only running on about 5 hours of alcohol-induced sleepage. When we woke up we decided not to get out of bed right away and stuff and things. Hehe. Woke up and chilled out, went swimming with Jobthingy and then the BF came in with me after as well. I could have spent the whole day swimming but I was still kind of tired and hungry.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Jobthingy's BF showed up and she was very happy about that. I could tell because she got this twinkle in her eye. She decided it was nappy time for her and went to nap for a while. BF and I decided to try out the fishing at that point and it was lots of fun. He had a horseshoe up his ass though because he kept catching these big small mouth bass and all I caught was a dumb little baby thing. He was cute though. I have a picture of me pretending to kiss it. I was kinda jealous of the BF and his fish but you don't want to let on too much so they can feel good about their egos. You know, that's how men are. ;)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was fishing when I noticed a car pull in and it turned out to be (and this is a nickname she got from my BF) Tubey Steak and she had brought along with her the step-sister Jobby Blow. They had gotten a nice cake for Jobthingy and so had her BF that morning so were were in for a a lot of cake. They stayed for a while and the BF and I went to throw the frisbee around for a while and then he decided to pitch the tent so Tubey Steak and I threw the football around. Ah yes, the football. What is it with a football and men? I took the damn thing out of my bag and two guys were pretty much drooling over it. Kind of like little children who just walked into a candy store with a twoonie. I don't know. Punker dude was trying his very best to convince me to give it to him and kept joking about how he was keeping it and it was his. lol&lt;br /&gt;While playing football something stung my hand. I am not sure if it was a bug or a plant but DAMN! It hurt.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Dinner was awesome. My BF made me a wonderful dinner of steak and taters done on the BBQ. Jobthingy's BF had also gotten some nice red wine while he was in on a beer run. Poor guy. He had called home to see how his kids were doing and the bitch of an ex mother-in-law told him he had to come back that night and so he couldn't stay like he had planned. He felt so bad about it too. We had cake for dessert and I had a few more beers that night. Tubey Steak and Jobby Blow had to leave because JB just HAD to go out to a bar that night in Vanier. Yes, I know, her loss. I mean, which would you rather be doing? Staying over in a bed in a cottage and enjoying the fresh air in the country or...watching a bunch of fat chicks trying to look sexy on a dance floor while listening to really bad djing skills and bad kareoki? OH, I know...the latter does sound tempting, does it not? :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The night went on and we ended up back by the fire. I had a sausage cooked on the fire and then decided I had had enough beer for the night. I wasn't drunk, nor was I close and I started to feel kinda anxious from the booze and my tummy was in knots. I ended up going to lay down in the tent and was super cold until the BF came in to warm me up. I fell sleep no problem and when I woke up the first time, it was to a bunch of noisy crows cawing about some shit. Literally. They were congregated upon the mound of dirt where the outhouse hole once was. I ended up falling back to sleep and when I awoke the second time it was to awesome morning "cuddling" with the BF.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;We woke up to a really nice day. It was sunny and a bit breezy. I was in good shape, not hung-over at all. I decided to get my bathing suit on and try to tan which I accomplished a bit of. We had our breakfast and then it started to get cloudy again. We sat around chillin for a bit and then the BF and I decided to go off in the canoe and fish. While we were out there I was the only one who caught a fish. Yay me! It was a small fucker but it was the only fucker! ;)&lt;br /&gt;That's when it started to rain a bit and we heard thunder so we started paddling back and got back JUST in time for the crazy downpour! Holy crap did it ever come down. The cottage even started to leak from the roof. The rain stopped and Jobthingy left with her ride. We decided to stay longer and took a nice nap and we woke up just in time to get the tent packed up and most of everything else before it started to rain again. The wind was so bad that it blew a table into the lake and it was just kinda floating across it. It was funny to see. When the rain died down we decided to hit the road and got home to unpack and still had some time to hang out before he had to leave for home.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It was the most fun I have had with a BF in forever! I am so glad we are together again.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, how could I forget the tuna handshake?  LOL!&lt;br /&gt;Maybe I'll explain that one later. :P&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-481332684001010815?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/481332684001010815/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=481332684001010815' title='4 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/481332684001010815'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/481332684001010815'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/07/wowee-zowee.html' title='wowee zowee'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><media:thumbnail xmlns:media='http://search.yahoo.com/mrss/' url='http://2.bp.blogspot.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SJCZqPCj8pI/AAAAAAAAAAY/BzDvyMKKVXk/s72-c/DSCF1544.jpg' height='72' width='72'/><thr:total>4</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-7240694158088925240</id><published>2008-07-22T19:15:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T19:39:56.470-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='beer'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='hair'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='camping'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='weight'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='fishing'/><title type='text'>Break out the fat clothes?</title><content type='html'>Damn it. I am so mad at myself right about now!&lt;br /&gt;I stepped onto my scale and I have gained back about 5 pounds. I should be losing it, not gaining!&lt;br /&gt;I guess I haven't been watching what I eat very well and I have the worst eating habits on the planet. I need to retrain myself to eat properly as in eating in the morning and at lunch and dinner with snacks in between as opposed to eating one big supper. I'd like to get to the weight I was when I was in Vancouver two years ago. I looked good, so I thought. I was also walking a lot more and being more physically active that summer. Argh.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The fact that I have occasionally taken to smoking pot again isn't helping either. I get major munchies on that stuff.&lt;br /&gt;OK, so... drink more water, eat smarter and move more... should be easy enough :/&lt;br /&gt;I would love to start getting more into yoga but it's no fun doing it by yourself!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I need a haircut pretty badly. My ends need trimming and I have this thing going with my boyfriend.. see, if he grows hair period, I'm going to cut my bangs short again. He already has more hair on his head than I have ever seen in person so I better get chopping. I have to remember to get some hair dye too because it's not very black anymore. It's looking redish, brownish, weirdish.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh gosh, I know another reason for the weight gain. I am drinking far too much beer this summer. Oh sweet, sweet beer. Why do you have to be so fattening? This weekend looks like more beer because I like to drink beer whilst camping. Beer, munchy foods, campfire foods...OH! S'mores. Yep...I'll need to make sure I am in swimming most of this weekend if I want to not end up looking like a blob by next week. I guess I can play catch too. I am going to bring my football and frisbee with me. I'm looking forward to fishing too. Haven't done that in ages!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I woke up today and could hardly move my shoulders and lower back. Seems the groceries I carried yesterday got the better of me.&lt;br /&gt;ooOOo I don't want to forget to bring my CD player thingy up camping. I hope there's an outside plug-in close enough to the cottage. I'm also going to have to burn some CDs because I recently acquired some new music.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Tonight is looking like beading night. I have a couple of requests from certain people for some jewelery some time very soon. Maybe I will rent another movie as well. Sounds like a plan.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-7240694158088925240?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/7240694158088925240/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=7240694158088925240' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7240694158088925240'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7240694158088925240'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/07/break-out-fat-clothes.html' title='Break out the fat clothes?'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-6554986434147536827</id><published>2008-07-21T22:43:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T19:41:12.720-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='exes'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='moving'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='daughter'/><title type='text'>Am I too nice?</title><content type='html'>Oh what a weird situation I have gotten into. It seems as though my ex (the Bean's father) and his gf are splitsville. Yes, they or rather he has decided he can no longer take any of her shit. I don't blame him at all because I know what a mean-spirited bitch she can be if you aren't on her good side. For example, she told him he's not even allowed to sleep on the couch because he sweats too much. So, they are fighting and she gets the nice cushy bed and he gets...the floor? Awesome. He's also working two jobs right now to get out of a rather large debt he incurred by not paying his taxes about 5 years ago. He's changed a bunch for the better, however.&lt;br /&gt;This brings me to me and why I am involved.  It just so happens that I have a third bedroom in my home and I would like to find a roommate for it to help with some of the bills and such. I happened to be talking to the ex a few weeks ago when it got really bad and the subject of the spare room came up. He's basically SOL until February when his debt is all paid off and can't afford another place. He hasn't much furniture at all and no means to buy any etc.&lt;br /&gt;If he has to move away it could be very difficult for him to remain close to school so he can keep taking the Bean every other week and if he had to stop, it would devastate the Bean to no end.&lt;br /&gt;So, me being me and the ever so helpful friend, I said he could stay in my third bedroom.&lt;br /&gt;How the hell is THIS going to work?!&lt;br /&gt;I told him up front that there will be no arguing about shit because we did that a lot when we last lived together. Mind you, we were together at the time.&lt;br /&gt;It will be nice to have a bit of extra income again and stuff and thankfully, it's only till February and he wont be moving in until October or November. It's going to be weird with the Bean because she's not going to really understand why we are living together but not actually together but I think she's smart enough to understand if we explained things to her.&lt;br /&gt;I'm probably not ever going to feel like I have a break from her but that's OK, I know that I can do things I want on my weeks without having to answer to anyone about what I am doing and I usually end up missing her way too much near the end of my weeks off anyway!&lt;br /&gt;This should be interesting nonetheless.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-6554986434147536827?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/6554986434147536827/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=6554986434147536827' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6554986434147536827'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6554986434147536827'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/07/am-i-too-nice.html' title='Am I too nice?'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-7254012162706944632</id><published>2008-07-20T23:28:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-20T23:54:16.769-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I'm Zombied!</title><content type='html'>This weekend went by pretty fast. I was expecting it to be really crazy but it was fairly tame after all. Friday night was spent over at my father's place chillin with my sister and my dad. My daughter came along and she spent the whole time playing with her cousin. We drank beer and shot the shit. I bought some hash of my father. Then my friend Jobthingy got a ride over there so we hung out for a bit longer and ended up here at my p[lace chillin and listening to music. I ended up going to bed at 4am because I got all into listening to my music.&lt;br /&gt;Saturday I had to wake up fairly early too because V was coming over to go for a dress fitting and to buy groceries for the shower on Sunday. I'm up early and shit and I get this phone call from V. "Heeeeeeeeey man..umm I am so effing sick. I'm going to be late but I'll call before I come. I gotta go die now." Poor thing was hurting from a night of drinking a bit too much. Here I was the night before making sure *I* didn't get too hammered so I wouldn't be all hung over and well, yeah. lol&lt;br /&gt;My bf was coming over to watch the bean so I wouldn't have to drag her around all over the damn place. He brought his laptop and stuff so he could do some work. He ended up forgetting something at home and we had to go get it and it turned into this big "go get shit at Walmart" outing. He had noticed that memory foam for the bed was on sale and I decided I needed to buy a couple of new shirts and season 1 of Little Britain. Of course, welly-mart didn't have that so we had to go to Best Buy. Anyhooters, we ended up coming home, ordered some Thai, I went for a nappies and he worked for a bit. He woke me up and I drank my bottle of wine and we watched Little Britain and got stoned.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Ended up going to bed at 2am and I had to be up semi early to go out with V and then set up and throw the damn shower. I was dead tired. I zombied around all day and then it was dinner at my bf's parent's place so they could re-meet me and meet the bean for the first time. Dinner was awesome. His parents are really cute. They call each other cute little pet names and sing songs together. Mind you, they were Christian songs but I got over it. lol&lt;br /&gt;After dinner I was even more tired because I was digesting the food and I think I looked a bit like a space case. Ok, more so than usual. They sent us home with yummy goodies from the garden and a nice chunk of cheesecake..mmmmm, that sounds good right about now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Came back home here and he stayed for a bit while we watched more Little Britain and he left. I can't wait to hit the hay tonight. I don;'t even think bombs in my living room will wake me up.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-7254012162706944632?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/7254012162706944632/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=7254012162706944632' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7254012162706944632'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7254012162706944632'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/07/this-weekend-went-by-pretty-fast.html' title='I&apos;m Zombied!'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-6284908701454812479</id><published>2008-07-16T02:19:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T19:41:48.255-04:00</updated><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='love'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poetry'/><category scheme='http://www.blogger.com/atom/ns#' term='poems'/><title type='text'>Love Is Seasonal</title><content type='html'>&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I feel your breath like the warm spring air. &lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It smells sweet and it is inviting me to frolic.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It lures me, captivates me and pulls me in.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I can feel that you are close to me.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I seek out your smile like I seek the summer sun.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is so warm and enveloping, taking me in.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;It is everlasting and it is constant, making me feel safe.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I want this feeling to last forever.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;The words on your lips flow like water on a windy fall’s eve.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;They flow like the creek I used to play in.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;That was the place where I felt innocent.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;This is the place where my dreams came true.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;I need your comfort on a cold winter’s day.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Your love warms me and makes me feel whole.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Like frosty patterns on a widow you are unique and beautiful.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Snapping me back to reality and making me feel alive again.&lt;/p&gt;  &lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;As predictable as the seasons, I know you will be there for me.&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;p class="MsoNormal"&gt;Some times I write poetry. I probably suck... :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-6284908701454812479?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/6284908701454812479/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=6284908701454812479' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6284908701454812479'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6284908701454812479'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/07/love-is-seasonal.html' title='Love Is Seasonal'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-3386697091103632933</id><published>2008-07-15T23:20:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-22T19:38:57.226-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Holy crap..I'm in LOVE.</title><content type='html'>I know. It sounds like it's too soon! Believe me, it's the last thing I thought I could be getting into besides crack this summer. Anyhoo. My guy is so sweet and thoughtful! He reminded me it was one month yesterday and he bought me flowers and took my to Ceylonta for a nice Sri Lankan dinner on Sunday!&lt;br /&gt;I have anxiety and a problem with taking busses ever since I had a panic attack on one. It's been years since I even tried to take one by myself. I succeeded on Monday of last week to go to Bluesfest. I was on the phone with my guy yesterday around 6 and he suggested me taking the bus over. I didn't even hesitate when I said "yes!" and so I got myself on that bus and took it there with no problems at all. Thank you CBT therapy! Oh and love want to see him as well ;)&lt;br /&gt;I sounds SO sappy and this is not usually me. I am known as a boyish girl to most of my close friends. They do know that I cry at sad movies and at concerts I got to that really move me. They just don't see this sappy side of me that often ;)&lt;br /&gt;I spent the night, he made me dinner and we had a great time. I got the pleasure of waking up to his early this morn when he had to go to work. I love waking up with my S.O. It always makes me day that much more happy!&lt;br /&gt;He left me his key and went to work. I went back to bed and woke up around 11:30. I got up, put on my clothes and left the place. I had to take a bus home which was fine as well. I am so proud of myself about that as lame as that may seem. I got off and walked up to Loeb to buy some ingredients I needed for tonight to cook for the BF. I made him Pasta Primavera with grilled chicken dish. He seemed to like it a lot. He took some home for dinner tomorrow night. GAH ...I don't want to spend another night without him. This sucks. I am so hooked. My love for him never died. I mean, he was the one who broke up with me originally. I was devestated! lol&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I cannot wait to go camping with Jobthingy etc... I just want to sunbathe, swim, fish and eat food!&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Oh, and of course the sex in tents...OOOOooOOOOOooo&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-3386697091103632933?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/3386697091103632933/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=3386697091103632933' title='2 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/3386697091103632933'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/3386697091103632933'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/07/holy-crapim-in-love.html' title='Holy crap..I&apos;m in LOVE.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>2</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-5487151734600006415</id><published>2008-07-02T20:50:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T21:11:59.347-04:00</updated><title type='text'>I am a happy girl!</title><content type='html'>I am SO not single any more! haha..I'm with the ex from 1999. We both were attached for a while, he was married and I was engaged (obviously things didn't work out for both of us in our other situations) but we came to rediscover each other on a dating website that matched us up. I was kind of liking being single and just doing whatever, but I really like this guy and I want to be with him again. I guess until the right guy came along, I was happy with being single. I was also afraid that it was too soon after my break-up but it just feels so right. I was totally in love with him when we were younger and I find that when you love someone, that feeling never really dies. We have been seeing a lot of each other lately. The sex is VERY good. I think that is pretty important considering the lack of it there was in my last relationship. The other night he sent me a text telling me how happy he is that I am his girlfriend again and it made my all giggly and mushy-like. He asked me to send him some pics of me so he could print them out and hang them up at his desk at work..D'AWWWW!! *sighs*&lt;br /&gt;The other bonus is that he's really good with kids and my daughter and him get along great. She thinks he is really funny and I am very glad.&lt;br /&gt;He thinks I am beautiful without make-up and loves my body. I'm so damn happy, I could scream. I'm pretty sure my neighbours would think I was weird if I really did that though :P&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So far this summer hasn't been all that nice to me with regards to the weather. There has been way too much rain, not enough sun so I can tan. I really hope I get to spend a decent amount of time in the country. I really don't like the city much.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now my friend is staying with me for a week. We haven't seen each other since high school. He is out and about right now visiting friends. It's nice to have some alone time. We pretty much spent Canada day being super lazy and doing nothing much. We kind of got rather drunk the night before so we were feeling a bit ..umm.. lethargic and didn't even watch the fireworks. Ah well, there is next year.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Right now I don't know if I want to read or watch a movie. I have been watching a bunch of movies lately. I usually end up doing that in the summer because all of my shows are not on until the fall. Oh crap..I think Rock of Love is on..haha!&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-5487151734600006415?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/5487151734600006415/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=5487151734600006415' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5487151734600006415'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5487151734600006415'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/07/i-am-happy-girl.html' title='I am a happy girl!'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-7213224131232880904</id><published>2008-06-25T22:34:00.004-04:00</published><updated>2008-07-02T23:17:54.938-04:00</updated><title type='text'>tings a gwan</title><content type='html'>My daughter just graduated into grade 1! She's growing up so fast. I am so very proud of my little girl. I figure I will buy her a new bike for being such a good student.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, Rock of Love was a total estro-fest this eve. WHAAAAAA WHAAA fuckin whaaa. Shut up already you tools. I mean, I don;t think you land a guy by crying about how neglected you feel when you are in a house full of girls who are there for the same purpose. And Daisy, she's a slutty whore. LOL&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-7213224131232880904?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/7213224131232880904/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=7213224131232880904' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7213224131232880904'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7213224131232880904'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/06/it-seems-as-though-i-am-not-quite.html' title='tings a gwan'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-7150760678378315730</id><published>2008-06-03T19:53:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-03T20:02:51.842-04:00</updated><title type='text'>New Ink!</title><content type='html'>That's right folks! Tomorrow Jobthingy and I go get our new ink. AWWWW yes, bonding over ink is awesome. I am super excited. This will be my biggest tattoo, well maybe tied with my leg but still. Getting it on my chest or I should say them. Gnarls Barkley's new album the Odd Couple is freakin sweet! Thanks to Jobthingy, my Betsey purse is back to normal. I had managed to stain it with new jeans and she reminded me of the goodness of Oxy Clean. It's like brand new again. Tomorrow is a busy day for me, I have the tattoos in the morning and a date in the evening and then...something else later on that eve. I'm such a busy girl these days. I love being busy. I have managed to drop quite a few pounds while I am at it too. My jeans are fitting again. Damn winter. I really don't like it. I should move to somewhere where it is warm all of the time. It's good for my skinny! I am currently rather broke and soon to be really broke as I managed to save enough cash for the tattoos and that's about it. I need a freaking income. This is driving me nutters. I can actually hear my pockets crying. Oh feck, I really should get to cleaning because I have been putting it off for a while now. If I am having company, I really need to clean. I hate having a messy place.&lt;br /&gt;I think I will grab Weezer's new album and go ape.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-7150760678378315730?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/7150760678378315730/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=7150760678378315730' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7150760678378315730'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/7150760678378315730'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/06/new-ink.html' title='New Ink!'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-6604073393919850633</id><published>2008-06-02T00:16:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-06-02T00:28:32.633-04:00</updated><title type='text'>madness.</title><content type='html'>That was what this weekend was. On friday I ended up going to Finn's with a date. Had a blast. We slow danced like it was 1991. Awesome. I didn't get wasted. Was tipsy. I knew I had to do some crazy shopping the next day with V for her wedding shower on sunday. We ended up going to two grocery stores and then to grab some pho to take back to my place to eat. Busy day. along comes sunday! Up at 8am. No sleeping in or going back to sleep. V was supposed to be over at 10:30 to prep some food but ended up showing up at 11 instead. No biggy. I made the pasta salad and showerd, all that sorta stuff and then when she got here it was off to pick up Julia and go find decorations. We needed a poster of a hot guy so we could play "kiss the guy on the lips". Julia's sister had given V a poster of the guy from the Cure but it looked pretty worn out and nasty. After all of that we went to Jobthingy's place to drop off stuff and Julia to decorate the room we rented there and V and I went back to my place to garb stuff we left there. We finally arrived. I had worn my new shoes thinking it would be a good day to beak em in (better than at a bar because I am known for falling over in heels) but BOY was I ever wrong. After the running around and back and forth and setting up, my feet were chewed. Stupid blisters. I hate new shoes but I love them all at the same time. Damn them. Anyhooters, the shower went off really well. Clint's mom didn't look like she wanted to exorcise me for being Wiccan and her being a religious god freak. She actually played kiss the guy which was like woah for her. You know because we had to change the theme from lingerie to bed and bath because the former was too riskque for her..LMAO. Next shower (yes there are two) will be the racy one...YIPPEE!&lt;br /&gt;I like being able to let loose. So after take down I was BEAT. Came home, plopped on my couch and had a nice long nap.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-6604073393919850633?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/6604073393919850633/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=6604073393919850633' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6604073393919850633'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6604073393919850633'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/06/madness.html' title='madness.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-8331835924672980026</id><published>2008-05-29T00:05:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T00:05:08.792-04:00</updated><title type='text'>wiccan quiz</title><content type='html'>&lt;table width="100%" border="0" cellpadding="0" cellspacing="0" class="tblBorderAll"&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com/test.php?q_id=188498N" target="_blank"&gt;How Much Do You Know About Wicca? (True\False)&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/a&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;created with &lt;a href="http://quizfarm.com" target="_blank"&gt;QuizFarm.com&lt;/a&gt;&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;You scored as &lt;b&gt;You know about the Gods, Days of power, magick,and general wiccan beleifs.&lt;/b&gt;&lt;p&gt;You did good. You are either a wiccan, expert at wicca, or a really good guesser.&lt;br&gt;&lt;br&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table width='50%'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;You know about the Gods, Days of power, magick,and general wiccan beleifs.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='95' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;95%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;p&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;There is a day of power every month and a half.&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/p&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;br /&gt;         &lt;table border='1' cellpadding='0' cellspacing='0' width='15' bgcolor='#dddddd'&gt;&lt;tr&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;td&gt;&lt;font face='Arial' size='1'&gt;15%&lt;/font&gt;&lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;   &lt;/td&gt;&lt;/tr&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;/table&gt;&lt;br /&gt;&lt;img style="visibility:hidden;width:0px;height:0px;" border=0 width=0 height=0 src="http://counters.gigya.com/wildfire/CIMP/bHQ9MTIxMjAzMzg1OTk4NCZwdD*xMjEyMDMzOTA3MzkwJnA9NjkwODEmZD*mbj1ibG9nZ2VyJmc9MQ==.jpg" /&gt;&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-8331835924672980026?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/8331835924672980026/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=8331835924672980026' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/8331835924672980026'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/8331835924672980026'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/05/wiccan-quiz.html' title='wiccan quiz'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-5346393518622843614</id><published>2008-05-27T21:01:00.003-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-29T00:00:37.131-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Odd Craving.</title><content type='html'>I'm not sure why but I just downed a whole can of corn. I could have eaten any number of things I have here to eat but I saw the can of corn and started to drool. Now I want more corn but I am all out. CORN? CANNED CORN? Not like corn on the cob, because that might even be semi normal, but canned.&lt;br /&gt;Man.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I knew I was forgetting to do something today. I had even written it down on a list. I guess I should have read the list over again after writing it. I have very little clean clothes now because I was supposed to do laundry. Feck me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Lilli and I took a nice walk along the river today. We saw ducks, seagulls, a lot of dogs and a couple of gay guys making out real heavy like. HELLO? This is mid afternoon people. I don't care if you are gay and proud, get a freakin room! Maybe I am just jealous because they are getting some action and I am not. I hate my period.&lt;br /&gt;I'm thinking this weekend is going to be pretty damn busy. I have plans upon plans. Friday night I am going to sit on my front lawn all Vanier styles with some wine and poutine again. I might opt for beer this time though seeing as how wine makes me have a headache in the mornings. On Saturday I am supposed to meet someone..I think. You know, I need a freaking date book. On Sunday it's Vanessa's shower and then I have plans for the eve. There will be no relaxing. NONE. *cries*&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'll survive.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-5346393518622843614?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/5346393518622843614/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=5346393518622843614' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5346393518622843614'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5346393518622843614'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/05/odd-craving.html' title='Odd Craving.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-2130359601850326704</id><published>2008-05-26T21:36:00.002-04:00</published><updated>2008-05-26T21:53:53.334-04:00</updated><title type='text'>Long time no write.</title><content type='html'>Oh man...been too long. I have recently broken up with my finace. It had been coming for a while now. I am doing pretty well despite my life doing a complete 180. I am ..frig..I have to pee....I am trying to keep myself occupied with household renosand cleaning. Yeehaw. My place looks freakin awseome!  haha&lt;br /&gt;This sunday is Vanessa's first shower for her wedding. I can't wait. I am all excited to make food and decorate!&lt;br /&gt;I need to get a hold of Julia to arrange a time to grab stuff from the dollar store and where ever else we need to go.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-2130359601850326704?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/2130359601850326704/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=2130359601850326704' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2130359601850326704'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/2130359601850326704'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2008/05/long-time-no-write.html' title='Long time no write.'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-6722309411918459108</id><published>2007-11-16T08:21:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-16T08:39:51.604-05:00</updated><title type='text'>Trouble with Numbskulls</title><content type='html'>Last week it was brought to my attention that my daughter had pink eye. I attempted to make a doctor's apt so her father could take her but my doctor wasn't in. The receptionist told me to tell him to take her to a clinic asap. I relayed the message and was told she'd be taken in on the Friday by her grandmother. Low and behold I get her back on Friday and she's still not looking ok, but I was told they thought it just...went away. PINK EYE does NOT just go away. So because of their neglect I had the pleasure of taking her into a clinic on the Saturday morning. Sure enough..Pink eye in both eyes and a HORRID cold. I'm left wondering if it was laziness or a way of pushing the job on me. Either way, I am NOT impressed and he'll be getting an earful from me this eve when he comes to pick her up again. She had to miss 3 days of school this week because they didn't bother to take her in when it was first discovered. BULLOCKS! Anyway. Now my best friend is having stupid men problems as well. Her daughter's father is even more neglectful and delinquent than my daughter's! I keep telling her to take him to court because I recognise this pattern ALL too well and until I really put my foot down, nothing was done for me so I will assume it will be the same with her. She doesn't deserve this at all and she needs to stand up for herself because if she doesn't, I'm not sure how much longer I can hold back my tongue! Then there is the case of the "runaway boyfriend". She's been trying so hard to contact him to at least find closure after he up and left, promised to keep in touch (hasn't) and is just a plain old coward in my eyes. It would take all of 5 minutes to respond to her emails but no, if she does get one it's a "we'll talk  about this tomorrow" kinda deal. Yeah right...lol Who is he kidding?&lt;br /&gt;I just wish he'd grab some balls and at least give her closure. It's only fair and mature but he seems to have a deficit in "mature". Why are people so afraid to just talk and get out their emotions? Why must they bottle them up until it's too late and things explode? My mother did that and look where it landed her! Communication is one of the biggest factors to a good relationship and if you don't have that, you're pretty screwed. I'm trying to teach my hubby about that because he has blown up on me over things he's bottled up. I told him I don't work that way and he needs to keep me informed about how he is feeling regarding our relationship. He's getting better at it now ^_^&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-6722309411918459108?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/6722309411918459108/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=6722309411918459108' title='1 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6722309411918459108'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/6722309411918459108'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2007/11/trouble-with-numbskulls.html' title='Trouble with Numbskulls'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>1</thr:total></entry><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-8815239656113313863.post-5061414922556997998</id><published>2007-11-08T09:17:00.000-05:00</published><updated>2007-11-08T09:33:31.590-05:00</updated><title type='text'>yeehaw</title><content type='html'>I have decided to try and blog again...I suck at it. I'm always forgetting to keep up, although I do love writing. The madness is over for a little bit. I had been super busy with getting my Nanna into a nursing home, hosting parties, attending parties and of course, looking after my little one. I came down with some weird-arsed mutation of a bug and have been sick with it for almost a week now. Fun eh? Not really when things are coming out of both ends to be perfectly honest!&lt;br /&gt;I have to start on my beading for xmas presents. I own enough beads to make a store's worth of stuff so I figure it's a good way to get practice and use up some beads.&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/8815239656113313863-5061414922556997998?l=bastette.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/feeds/5061414922556997998/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://www.blogger.com/comment.g?blogID=8815239656113313863&amp;postID=5061414922556997998' title='0 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5061414922556997998'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/8815239656113313863/posts/default/5061414922556997998'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://bastette.blogspot.com/2007/11/yeehaw.html' title='yeehaw'/><author><name>Bastette</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/08958801053910721321</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='24' height='32' src='http://bp3.blogger.com/_8ULiOUj8Uis/SIQID9ymSZI/AAAAAAAAAAM/VtDBI8DpHf0/S220/MAY08+240.jpg'/></author><thr:total>0</thr:total></entry></feed>
