Birthday Botox

All of a sudden I've turned into a shitty (read: lazy) blogger. I'm sorry. I promise I will make it up to you.

Updates:
So I turned 31 this week. This completely blows my mind. I never imagined myself in my 30s, only as an adult: age undefined. But alas, I am growing old, which I guess is better than the alternative (death). My 31st b-day was remarkably unremarkable. I ran experiments, hung out with my rats, experienced a small depression because I was spending the day alone with my rats (who by the way, did not wish me happy birthday), but then rallied with a lovely sushi dinner and divine chocolate cake. I don't expect people to do anything for my birthday: after all, I'm a grown up, such expectations are childish. I counteract this expectation by trying to plan things for myself to do and doing things for others (e.g., buying rounds of drinks). Last year I did 30 things I've never done (in one day). It was too much fun. This year, frankly, I was uninspired: thirty-one is such a dull number, almost not worthy of celebration.

But just then there was some excitement: on one of my boat rides home I was having a talk with my plastic surgeon friend who will be opening her practice in a few months. For advertising, she's offering discounted procedures in hopes that people will be so happy, they'll brag her up to all the rich, saggy people. For the third time, she mentioned that she had some "unclaimed" botox in her fridge. I've been thinking about getting some botox for a long time: I've got "thinking" lines between my eyes that make people say, "Are you tired? Angry? Stressed?" even when I'm not. Her offer, one day before my unplanned birthday, was what I needed. On Friday morning, I got the botox. And I love it. And I think this is the beginning of a trend: my lovely surgeon friend showed me all the cool equipment she's buying and will be anxious to try out. On me. I'll look like Cher in no time! Oh, and have more friends, make more money and be famous.

I'll post a photo of me trying my best to look thoughtful soon.

Seriously now

I know I've said this before, but I'm going to say it again: I'm done with age one. Seriously. The destruction, the impulsiveness, the non-verbal yelling, the five second attention span, the constant climbing on the kitchen table, the octopus-like creature that refuses to sit still for a millisecond in order to get dressed making the process seem infinite, the chewed food that's been spit out all over the house. It's. Driving. Me. Insane. And, boy, it's a really effective form of birth control.

Blinking: it gets me every time.

2008: The Plan

Well, it's a new year. This is what I plan to accomplish in 2008:

1. Exercise until my nose bleeds three times (at least) a week
2. Be a production machine: publish three papers and win some scholarships/fame
3. Refrain from drinking to excess on most days
4. Eat, preferably foods with nutritional value
5. Do as many new things as I can
6. Write some poetry
7. Spend some really excellent quality time with my children, everyday
8. Be a good person. Okay, be a not-so-bad person.
9. Live. Well. And hard.
10. World Domination.

Holiday road trip

For the first time since our babies were born, we're traveling to Nova Scotia for Christmas. And we're doing it by car. Now, we've driven the 15+ hours there before (several times in fact) but not in December. And not with an 18 month old. I'm rather afraid.

But I'm also excited. I haven't been "home" in 1.5 years and I'm wanting it. Once we get to Nova Scotia, Christmas will be waiting for us. And while I'm no Christian, it will be festive-fun nonetheless. All of my siblings will be there, a first in many years. I get to meet my sister's new German fiancee. I'm going to get together with a group of my high school friends (not seen for 10+ years) as well as my good Uni friends! I expect to come back sated. And happy. And ready to go back to work (10+ days in close quarters with small children will do that).

For now, I'm packing, cleaning, and trying not to think about the long, long day of travel tomorrow (we leave for Montreal tonight where we'll stay with my brother and shove off first thing tomorrow morning).

Home, oh my sweet Nova Scotian home, here I COME!!

(And Merry Christmas Everyone!)

F-U Winter

Dear Winter,
I know we are only a few days into our relationship this year, but seriously, do you have to come on so strong? Maybe you are only thinking of me and my cardiovascular health when you dump a fuck-ton of snow in my driveway for me to shovel at 6:30 a.m. (and continue to shovel for 60 minutes while all children cry in the car)? Maybe you think it's funny and are playing cute jokes when you are so freezing that all of our cars decide they've had enough and break down all at once due to the stresses of your cold? Obviously we don't share the same values and views on lifestyle. I'm sorry to say that I've had enough and I am dumping your wintery ass. If you continue to threaten me with your winds and snow drifts and freezing rain, I will get a restraining order. I'm not joking. Go fuck yourself.
I hate you.
Emily

It's Winter on my island

Yup. It's true. Winter has arrived. The long term forecast says "it's gonna be a long one." Yikes. We're tying to make the best of it by going out into it and trying to have fun (I'm not really a "winter" type of person). This year's goal: teach one or more of the kids to skate. Step one: be on the ice in just the boots. Step two: bob-skates. Step three: fall down and cry. Repeat. Only five months until spring...but who is counting.

Neville, smiling at the snow.

"The Crack." I believe we are going to die, says Dexter.

Walking on water.

Bubble Bath

Bubble beards.