Housekeeping

I'm jealous of Megan. She can whirl and whiz around the blogosphere like no one's business, and the result is a slick and kicky blog. Mine feels kind of archaic. So I added a picture. And if you scroll all the way down, you can find the sites I visit daily. Such as Megan's. Or Cindy's. Or Glen's.

Sighingly Yours,
xoxoSallyt

My Maliciousness

Some of you already know that I used to work at CBC Radio. I was all over the country, working as a reporter and producer and anything else I could do to stay with the Mother Corp. But I left four years ago, and have never looked back.

But in those four years since I left my abusive relationship with the Cheeb, I find myself gloating secretly when I hear blunders on-air.

Such as the one right now. I'm listening to CBC over the internet, they just played a song by some local artist, and in the first line, the word f*ck was sung quite audibly. I could almost hear the fluttering of shocked hosts and techs on the speaker. Hee hee! I love when that happens! I also love when I hear news readers flub and dead air. I love it! Relish it! It's mean and malicious, this I know. But from someone who lived in the trenches at countless stations across Canada, it's the sweetest sounds to my ears.

Gloatingly Yours,
xoxoSallyt

Etiquette?

I knew what I was getting into when I chose to move to Victoria. I knew there'd be countless days of rain and mist and fog, and that, in turn, would make my hair a mess. I knew I would have to get a raincoat or an umbrella, neither of which I have owned since I left the east coast years ago.

Yesterday was rainy, natch, and as I walked a few blocks from my office to meet Stacey for lunch, I broke down and bought an umbrella. I originally wanted to get one of those big, colourful ones with the wooden handles and tips, but chose a small, black one. And am I ever glad I went small!

As I walked back to the office, and then home, I got confused. Is there some sort of umbrella etiquette I need to learn? The day before, I walked home umbrella-less, and got scratched in the head by someone's umbrella. As I walk the streets, oceans of umbrellas come at me and I don't know how to navigate that sea! Do I lift the umbrella up? Do I make room for those without one? Do I let me spokes hit other umbrellas?

I know it's silly, but I don't want to scrape stranger's scalps as I walk by. I want to stay relatively dry and hide my wild hair under my umbrella...ella...ella...eh...eh...eh...under my umbrella (the new Rhianna song that I once loathed is now my theme, I love that song!).

Shelteringly Yours,
xoxoSallyt

Halfway Home

My belongings arrived yesterday. My mover, Dov, came through for me. Although at over a grand, bastard better have! I was talking to Candie when I saw the big truck pull up. I was almost hysterical! I slept on the floor the night before and slept very little. I was stiff, and stressed, and anxious to get my life back in order. Two weeks of turmoil was enough for me!

Doc unloaded my meagre belongings, and broke the frame to my coffee table, which can be fixed. I spent the next several hours unloading and unwrapping and setting up. Only to crash at 8pm.

I am anticipating this Friday like never before. I get home around 230 in the afternoons. I plan on coming home on Friday at 230, getting in my pajamas and no one will see hide nor hair of me until Monday morning.

Tiringly Yours,
xoxoSallyt

Hello from Victoria!

It's been almost two weeks since I reluctantly pulled myself away from the love of my life and moved to Victoria. No, I do not mean Edmonton. I mean Byron. It was sad and incredibly hard to leave him. Harder than I could ever imagine. And I cried.. a lot. I have never missed someone as much as I miss him. He'll be here soon, and then we won't ever have to be apart like this ever again. It's that anticiaption that is keeping me going these days.

You see, I'm homeless. I was told several versions of my move-in date. It was going to be the 15th, then the 10th, now the 15th. I have my keys and I'm moving in tomorrow. Well, I'm taking my suitcases there, since my belongings aren't coming until Monday. For the past two weeks, I have been crashing on couches and appreciating my friends' unending generosity. I'm tried, my back hurts, and I just want to unload my bags and set up a home for me and Byron. But no. My movers are tools.

Word of advice... do NOT choose a mover because their name is cute. "Mini Movers" was not a good choice. Cheap, indeed, but it's been a headache getting my stuff here. I had to leave my apartment with everything still inside, waiting for the movers when I flew here. They delivered it to the north part of Vancouver Island. I could not find my mover all week, and when I finally did find him, he asked "What can I do for ya?" Ummm, how's about your f*cking job!? His truck is broken and he's not coming with my things until Monday afternoon. Oh yeah, and he reminded me several times that he's on vacation. Who cares! I'm freaking homeless!

Something like this was bound to happen. The plans for getting here, the flight, the apartment, and especially Byron came together so quickly and smoothly that it was almost surreal. So this is just the other shoe dropping.

Once I move in, I can blog more. Until then, enjoy your beds.

Lovingly Yours,
xoxoSallyt