Another Plug.

I'd like to give a firm handshake to whoever is in charge of Rhetorical Letters.

This post was particularly amusing.

Plug.

Jo totally wrote a Christmas letter. Generally I think it's kind of a dumb tradition. But this one is full of lies which automatically means it's amazing. Yep, all lies. Except for that part where I love man on man lovin' and the part where Jo's into trees.

So go read it why don't you?

Yuletide Cheer.

Cold Toes.

Someone has stolen all my socks. Or put them somewhere I can't find them. My house is always cold and my feet are always cold and I have no slippers so I'm stuck with socks and now I'm like the Sock Scavenger. I managed to find a sock of mine that's probably 8.5 years old with a small whole where the big toe is and one of Brian's work socks. One foot is very warm and the other is jealous. Perhaps the key to my sock problem is to steal all of Brian's. He'll never know what hit him.

I love Christmas Days that carry on for two days and the only kid involved is the one I love the best in all the world.

Spent yesterday with my mom's side of the family and although I only see them once a year, it's really a pleasure spending time with my cousins now that they're adults-ish, like me. Looking back at embarrassing photos of us taken at Christmas time (the only time we're all in one room together) was pretty awesome too. There was one year my mom dressed me (or allowed me to dress in) a purple velvet dress. My hair accessory? Was a small gold-wrapped present with ribbons springing from it. My mom didn't like me much. In the same picture, my cousins, Amanda and Gillian, were in matching loudly-patterned-possibly-plaid dresses with black velvet and lace, so I take some comfort in the fact that their mom didn't like them either.

I'm going to find this picture and post it here if it's the last thing I do.

In other news, I have a ridiculous number of pictures, nearly 4 gigs worth (and I can't help but think that that is equal to the amount of memory Jowie had on her ANCIENT computer in first year) so I'm trading in the flash drive I got from the grandparentals for a deeply discounted external hard drive that is, in fact, bigger than my entire computer.

Do your worst computer gods, I'm getting some back up!

Uh. Please don't do your worst. Don't do anything at all.

Vanity Fair is God.

The first time I bought the magazine it was for the pretty pictures. I was shallow that way. And the last issue I bought has Brad Pitt in his underwear on the cover. I'm still shallow that way.

Turns out though, they also have amazing articles. I know, you're all shocked. I'm reading one on their website right now about the death of Neo-conservatism. It's brilliant. You should go read it.

Neo Culpa.

Turns out Rummy DID suck. And so did Powell and Rice and Bremer and Cheney and Bush and everyone.

"So we were sending American forces in harm's way, with full combat capability to support them, helicopters overhead, to move goddamn ice from Kuwait to Baghdad."

There are no words and that's not even the most disgusting thing in the article.

This post was going to be a rant about how much I despise Gwen Stefani. Somehow, this seems like time better spent.

Hey, if you're celebrating Christmas, Merry Christmas and if you're celebrating other stuff, enjoy that too. Happy Kwanzaa! Happy Hanukkah! Happy Other Stuff! Happy Eid! (to everyone but Jo. Where's my damn pajamas?)

Another from the vault.

Things I didn't say to customers because it would only land me in a bigger pile of foul-smelling things volume ten million:

Dear Lady,

Hi, remember me? I'm the one you yelled at to work faster while you ordered 18 FUCKING sheets of photos and got 5 phone calls from your, darling I'm sure, children. This was, in case you were wondering, while my manager was on an HOUR lunch break and on one of the busiest days that we've had.

It make come as a surprise to you, but I'm not god. When the computers fucking crash and I loose your entire order, I can't snap my fingers and make it reappear. It was your decision to leave and let me re-add the photos and I'm real, real sorry that it didn't come out right but you got a bunch of free shit so if you'd just bugger off so I can start pretending that I never met you or that you don't exist, that'd be great.

Love,
Toni

In which I still love Susan and Jo more than almost anything else.

Well Susan and Jo came down this weekend and as you might expect, it was the BESTEST thing ever and I love them tragically. I write one of these OMG-did-you-guys-know-that-Subu-and-Jowie-are-cool-and-I-love-them blogs every time they come over, and although I'm sure it's your most favouritest thing ever, I'm going to limit this to funny pictures. Purely self-indulgent tripe. Just like the rest of this blog! Continuity I am thy faithful servant.

This first one is for our theoretical Christmas card. We decided that what really sells it is Susan's expression. Jo and I are thinking. Susan's just stumped!

This is the picture we wanted. To mark the occasion.
This is what kept happening to my face. On this particular occasion, I specifically said 'Sober' before the picture was taken, to avoid the drunken expression from the frame before. I got the opposite reaction I was hoping for and killed Susan a little bit in the process.


Drinking a whipped-cream topped beverage together is like getting married. Big step. This Tirasmoothie sucked though. Just so we're clear.

v.v. sleepy.

You remember when you were a kid and making a Christmas list was the easiest thing on the planet? There were a million things that you wanted and you wanted them all desperately and how much you really needed them never entered your mind? Those were the days! I had a great deal of trouble making a Christmas list for the various interested parties which is a concern as I would very much like to receive things.

I must've missed the day in Kindergarten where we learned that giving is better than receiving. It's only with Deanna that I would rather give than receive and that probably has a lot to do with her poor taste in slippers meant for me. I'm probably going to buy her Clue because I want to play Clue and if that makes me a bad person....well, it's hardly a surprise at this point.

The gingerbread house is going to be eaten. The pine tree and snowmen are long gone. Jo told me not to, despite her promise to move in and lick my gingerbread house all over. Okay, I'm not imagining that that last part sounded dirty right? It's covered in M&Ms and icing, how are we supposed to resist?

Tomorrow is my day off and I'm probably going to go to the library and the drug store and try to watch Dances With Wolves (again) because I have the sexiest life ever. Maybe I'll do it all in bondage gear. That'd serve you right.

Possibly I am too tired to be writing in this blog without frightening people. Mostly I'm writing here so I won't crawl into bed. I should stay up late on the night leading to my day off, after all.

Well that's certainly more than enough for tonight.

Today.

Woke up with massive migraine. Once it was gone the day got immeasureably better.

Item 1- I'm still awesome.

Jowie: good thinking toni, that's what's we call you

Toni: you should probably get me a shirt made....so everyone knows

Jowie: done and done

Toni: that's good...'cause i'm definitely going to need a new shirt...the one i've got on has chilli stains on it.

Item 2- Susan is still in love with me.

Subu: I do TOO care that you're the hulk!!

Toni: HAHAHAHAH

WHATEVER...YOU'VE WOUNDED MY BIG GREEN HEART

Subu: nooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooo

come on, baby... I didn't mean it
you can rip your shirt off and smash shit for me anytime
...

Toni: AHAHAHAHAH....you're so hot for me, it's ridiculous

Subu: yeah... I'm gonna need to hose down my loins in a minute or two

Item 3- The Gingerbread House

Despite the fact that it included the "word" E-Z (seriously, it's four letters, you're only missing ONE CHARACTER in your abbreviation, how much time did it really save you?) in it's instruction guide, Deanna and I built a kickin' gingerbread house out of the kit I bought. Topped with cheap icing and festive M&Ms. Furthermore, it is completely structurally sound and the roof was NOT sliding off halfway through the building process

The front walkway:
Our structurally sound roof:

Important news people: I'm off to the grocery store to buy the materials to make a gingerbread mansion that will cause your teeth to melt just by looking at it. If the results are impressive, I will post pictures here. If they are not, I will cry in a corner somewhere.

I thought I was done with the other store...I may have done a little dance even, but they've sucked me back in for Friday. Someone's dad died, so I guess I shouldn't be thinking about how it affects me. I GUESS. But I can't help but remember last Friday, what was supposed to be my final day at the other store, when a customer yelled at me for a good twenty minutes and called the store manager to tattle on me, all over a misunderstanding about a fucking 7.99 ornament!

And? Mad props to Carly for her stupendously named Chrismukkah Party. I loved the first Season of the OC (before it became Dynasty for anyone 16-24) and I would marry Seth Cohen if I could. That is all.

PSA

Dear Monsters...I mean, Picture Picker-Uppers,

When I am delivering your photos I cannot do the following things:

1) help the fact that the lab has printed extra. If you don't want them, don't take them. I promise I'm not going to take the pictures of your children home and use them for target practice or rub them all over my nubile body. We. Just. Put. Them. In. A. Drawer.
2) change the size of pictures that you ordered weeks ago.
3) go back in time and make your child look like they don't have a cold.
4) go back in time and make your child good looking.

I CAN do the following things:
1) Print you a receipt.
2) Get you a bag.
3) Resist the urge to punch you right in the face.

I would LIKE to do the following things:

1) Punch all of you whiners in the face.
2) Do the deliveries drunk, cocktail in hand.
3) Not do the deliveries at all.

Also, dear customers, I'd like to remind you that, as of next week, I'm no longer working at that location, so you can complain to me all you like, it's not going to make me give a fuck about your situation.

I've included an illustration of how you appear in my mind's eye. I am, of course, the damsel you're torturing in your hand there.

Thank you for your time,
Toni Bank.

Frosty.

Jo has the best pictures from our sojourn to Guelph, ie. ones of actual people. I got drunk and lazy. So all I'm posting here is a picture that is remarkably clear considering how inebriated I was when I took it. Inebriated and rushed, as Evan yelled at me to stop being arty so we could go order pizza. Eventually, it was delicious.

Also, as we walked home we wrote our names in the frost on the tops of cars. This was supposed to read Alex + Toni = Awesome but I couldn't get the camera up high enough to get it all in. You get the idea. Excellent penmanship for 3 AM.

G-U-E-L-P-H

Saturday after work I showered off the baby stink and, at the urging of my good friend Jo, decided to take drunk, slutty-shirted Toni out for a night on the town. The Albion was amazing. At times more crowded than I cared for, but I got drunk pretty quickly and all the body-squishing didn't matter after that.

I got hugged, licked, humped and groped. Drama students are like happy, horny puppies.

So pretty much the best night I've had in a long time.

Then there was hangover breakfast with Jo and my two favourite red heads, Thrillica and Barb. So good.

Pictures are sure to follow but now I'm off to my grandparents' for fun that is sure to be a great deal more wholesome than the fun I had last night.