Saturday, April 18, 2009

addictions

I've had a pretty interesting past couple of days.

I'm pleased to say that rockstar hubby and I had a date on thursday, but only after he finished a tree job that he didn't finish from the day before. While I am giving accurate width results of the trees in question, I have been instructed to bring along a 3 foot stick to place at the base of the tree, so that RSH can figure out how big it is. No, I am not wrong, he just wants to 'see it' (on that note, i tried it out today, and left it on the jobsite...)
So we met and scooted downtown to the market and the large mall. We walked, we talked, we held hands, bought cheap Lindt chocolate bunnies (after Easter sale) and discovered...our new...favourite...restaurant.

Mambo.

We had a coupon. We got there and requested the patio, as Thursday was a lovely sunny day and whoever smoked near me was going to get it. We got there early and received the menu. I ordered the something salad which consisted of arugala, blue cheese, pear, caramelized cashews, chicken and covered in a sweet balsamic sauce which was reminiscent of Infusion's sauce on their bruschetta...it was amazing. And they have so many more things to try!

Then he let me buy him a gigantic pair of sunglasses that are so metro, they look ridiculous. And I let him buy me a fake pair of D&G which look fantastic.
Then he went to work, and I picked up the gaffer.
Yesterday morning...the boys went to cosmic, after dropping me off at my first Moksha yoga class.
Dude.
It had to be at least 40C in there. I just sat there quietly for ten minutes and I was already sweating. The yoga was hard, it was painful...I think I'm addicted. I'm a bit sore today, but I found my body wanting more. So tomorrow I will attend another 5$ intro class before church and get my fix. RSH is tres sweet to come home early to bring gaffer to church so I can attend with my friend Gigi.

Today I looked at 4 tree jobs. One of which, really, really bothered me. This guy, George (not his real name) was a piece of work. First of all, he never answers his phone. But he calls you back immediately. And I think he's technologically challenged because his voice mail consists of a hang-up when you leave a message after the beep. So then he gives me crap (a la phone) that I never answer my phone. I explained very professional-like (as I wiped gaffer boogers off my shirt) that if the phone picks up right away, we're on the other line. He didn't believe me. So he left me instructions to look at the tree in the backyard, and the one beside the driveway. I get there...he has two driveways. I kid you not. And his backyard has four trees. So I had to call him. I didn't want to, but I had to. He shows up 5 minutes later in a big expensive pick-up (jackrusselterriersyndrome) and jumps out and is 5' tall (jrts) and brings a creepy co-worker (jrts). I explain he has two driveways. He says, 'oh do I?'

Dink.

So as we walk to the backyard, I notice his german sheppard tied up to the doghouse, in a kennel area. And she cowers away as soon as he comes in the yard. Hm...and then he says in a growly voice "what are you doing Chloe?" and she begins to tremble and climbs into her doghouse. Then he mutters something about 'how she must have gotten into something" and I'm thinking, how can she? She's tied up, idiot. So I looked at the second tree, while two creepy men looked at me (no the Gabbana's were NOT coming off my face) and I left. And the poor dog stayed hidden.

Am seriously considering calling Humane Society. Why on earth would a dog act like that?

Ok, now I'm angry and depressed. Am going to read Cooking Light mag and copy recipes...

Incidentally, I'd be including internet links, but I don't know how, and it doesn't work for me...

Thursday, April 2, 2009

i'm just so thrilled

that annoying stretching guy chose to sit beside me and is proceeding to let out old man farts every ten minutes. i think i might snap.

oh great. now he's singing and dancing to the oldies.

just kill me now.

Wednesday, April 1, 2009

hm...

ok, so i'm reading this book by Leeman, called 'first born order', or something like that. wow. wow. wow. yes, i am a first born. and at first i didn't agree with anything it said, but then i realized, how true it was. how creepily true. huh.

so it occured to me this morning, while i sat at indigo, watching the gaffer play with his playmobile, that i would be an excellent accountant. i'm anal, i like things organized (in a disorganized way), i like things done a certain way (oh wait, that's anal), and i've got a keen eye for what's wrong or missing in the picture.

if only i could add....