Apparently I forgot I had a blog.

Ah well. I'm back now.

Many exciting things to babble about to the great invisible Jesus tube system that is the internet.
I went to my hometown for one of my best friend's weddings. Yup, middle of Prairie Canada in the middle of January. Smart move, hopscotch.

It was bloody cold.

But on the bright side, other than mooching rides to and from said wedding, I really had no reason to be outdoors.

I'm still weirded out seeing people I've known since I was 3 years old being all grown up and married to boys who have real jobs and whatnot. It's like as soon as people hit their mid twenties they trip out and decide they need a bunch of paperwork proving that they have a permanent boyfriend. I dunno, I guess it's just not my thing. I mean, I'd love to have a big party with everyone I like telling me I'm pretty and eating cake, so I'll probably throw a wedding of my own at some point, but unless I get to walk down the aisle dressed like Cyndi Lauper or maybe Alf, while an acoustic (or maybe accordian) version of Rock Lobster plays, or maybe Strutter (you know, that band with the makeup), or something really relevant like the theme song from Batman... anyway you get the idea.

My kid told me something wonderful about marriage last week. She says "Mom. I'm going to marry... a Princess. A Princess who is.... A BOY."

After I stopped dying of laughter the next day she said "Mom. I'm going to marry a boy. A boy who is... a MERMAID."

I think she's a little gender confused. But that's alright. She's two. Plus if she ever dates transvestites, maybe my taste in boys will seem less... offbeat?

I'm in the midst of cooking up a surprise for my bass player tonight. Luckily no one actually reads this, so my secret is safe here. I'm making her some cupcakes that look like severed organs. You see, it's her birthday, and in our little band of horrors nothing says "Celebrate Life" like an autopsy table. I'll post pictures when I take some, and learn how to insert photos. We are surprising her mid-jam tomorrow, and if she doesn't like there, I'm gonna punch her in the back of the face. Yeah, I said it. I love that bitch.

Oh, the photo button is right there.
Durrrr.

Okay, I don't really know what else goes in these things so I'll leave on a high note, so maybe you come back for some reason.

I am one of those lucky people with a fucked up bleeding disorder, so i spend a lot of time in the Lab getting bloodwork done. I caught tonsillitis a couple weeks back and couldn't talk louder than a whisper and i had a lisp for some reason. So I go into the clinic, sign in, tell them my birthday and the lady leans in really close and says (in a voice way too loud for being so close) "DID YOU COME HERE ALL BY YOURSELF TODAY?" and being vocally crippled I just nodded and stared and probably looked really slow trying to figure out why they asked me that. So now I get weird sympathetic smiles and special treatment when I go in because of my "mental handicap". I figure I might as well milk it until they realize that wearing 5 different kinds of mismatched animal print just makes you bad at fashion, not necessarily brain development.