It's official. I'm old.

I have always been a lover of pop culture. I read the gossip blogs and watch ET Canada and TMZ. I know who is in what movie, even though I may never see that movie. I know who is with who, who is having babies, who has the hottest album or song. I love pop culture. I think I should have been an entertainment reporter like I wanted, before some snooty professor at my j-school said I needed to "pay my dues" in news. News wore me down and out of journalism.

But recently, I have realized I am old.

OMFG!

We saw Twilight last night. And OMG, if I was 16, I would have totally swooned over Edward and his swarthy stares. I would have yearned to be Bella. Instead, my eyes spent the majority of the movie rolled. Far too many sighs of confusion and declarations of "I don't know". Way too much teenaged-angst. I couldn't swoon if Edward himself had swept up on my neck.

And Byron, ever the realist, pointed out that vampires don't have blood. Ergo, they would be incapable of an erection. So what are they all hot and bothered for?

But it's not just Twilight. Where did the Jonas Brothers come from? What did we do wrong to have Disney foist Demi Lovato and Selena Gomez upon us? And where did they come from? All of a sudden last summer, I saw these underaged titmice on Perez in skimpy outfits and too much makeup.

I was watching MuchMusic's Hotties of 2008 the other day, and could not figure out why some people were hot. Byron and I were like two cooty old parents on the couch scoffing at people who were supposedly hot.

God, I feel so old. And confused. Confused by 15 year-old titmice. Someone - get me some metamucil.

Agedly Yours,
xoxoSallyS

To be 14 again

Not only is it George's birthday, but it's been a month since I saw New Kids on the Block in Vancouver! And I realize I never told the tales and showed the pictures.

Way back in October, at work, I was surfing around and found tickets for NKOTB for $20. So I ran around the office and gathered up four other girls who loved them like I did. One girl drove, another one got us a steal of a hotel deal at Hotel Vancouver, and we were off.

Our dear colleague, Roddy, sent over a bottle of mandarin vodka that we polished off while doing hair and make up. We got giddier and giddier (read: tippier) as the evening wore on. Then we walked over to GM Place and I was all of a sudden 14 again.

Our seats were nosebleed seats, but they DID afford us this view of the stage:

And this:
And I turned into this:
Yes, those are binoculars... MY binoculars. And yes, that is beer being drunk through a straw. Like I said... we all turned into 14 year olds again.

I screamed until I was hoarse. I screamed so hard my head hurt and I went a bit dizzy. I jumped and danced and I am not ashamed to say that tears welled up a few times. I LOVED NKOTB when I was a kid. Loved them! It was probably unhealthy, but whatever. So this concert was a dream come true.

I was prepared for the cheese. I thought the tack-factor for this concert was going to be off the scale. But no. NKOTB are fine performers. No lip-synching. Their dancing was good for 40 year-olds. And they totally played up the audience. They sang a lot of old songs, some of which I forgot I knew. I was blown away. I fell in love all over again.

Thankfully, Joey's balls have dropped and he sounds like a man when he sings. Jordan still does his falsetto. Danny did some break-dancing and Donnie was a complete showboat. Jonathan was quiet and seemed shy still. Danny was once my favourite. I had a soft-spot for the underdog. But Donnie is my new favourite. He and Joey have aged the best.

Some of the most fun of the night happened in the beer lineups. Natch, it was pretty much all girls, and a lot of them dressed in their old NKOTB gear. I saw a satin jacket that I envied in 1989. But some girls dressed in neon and wore ponytails on the sides of their heads. NOT NKOTB gear, might I add. They were not at a Wham! concert. Despite that, I made friends with them...
(That's my friend, Tasha on the right)
It was so worth the 18 year wait. And I still know all the words after all this time.

Hangin' Tough-inly Yours,
xoxoSallyS

Happy Birthday, George!

My little nephew George is one today. Look at the joy he brought people. (Except for maybe Blanche.)

George has given our family a gift. We are seeing each other in new lights. My dad is no longer the grumpy man grumbling and cursing at the world. Now, he's a gushing and doting Grampy. My mom, always a good mother, is now an incredible Nanny who sings and plays with George all day. And who teaches him how to quack like a duck. My brother strums the guitar for a fascinated George, and George adores him and Nicole. His life makes Dave, Nicole, Byron and I desire our own little lives to bring in the world.

George gives us all joy watching him grow and learn. And it also brings us glee to see his personality grow into the stubborn minx that his mother was. And, according to tales from Craig's family, George has no choice but to be a stubborn little boy! But a little boy who loves to laugh!

And, apparently, dance. So George, Happy Birthday to you. Cut a birthday rug!

Proudly Yours,
xoxoSallyS

My attempt to look productive

It's the Friday before Christmas. Half of my building are gone for the holidays. The other half are wandering the halls, dropping in on cubes and chatting. I am trying to look productive. We've "ramped down" for Christmas and there is nothing to do at work!

Sure, there are things at work to do. But I keep a pretty tidy desk already so the annual de-junk is not necessary. I even kept back some piddly projects, but blew my wad this morning in a spaz of activity.

Now, it's 2:55 p.m and I am going to go crazy.

Yesterday in our staff meeting I wondered aloud what management wants from us in the coming days when there is nothing going on. There are no demands from the Minister, there are no news releases, no events, no nothing! We were told to read the internet for education-related stories from other jurisdictions. Hmmm. Does Perez Hilton count?

CBC Yellowknife knew how to do Christmas right. Well, the tech shop boys did. It would be happening today. The Friday before Christmas, the tech shop boys hosted a party in the afternoon. Around 12 pm, the doors would open, the appies would arrive and the drinks would pour. My first Christmas there, I heard about this magical party. All morning, I heard rumblings of excitement. I watched meat and cheese platters being carried to the tech shop. The big dj booth would be wheeled down the hall. At 12 bells, you could see the multi-coloured lights strobing on the walls of the hallway down to the tech shop. by four o'clock I was clinking plactic cups of Crown Royal with a producer I usally butted heads with. Magical.

And the party embodied all that was good with Christmas. Old enemies laughed together. You forgot for a moment that you think the tv reporter is a retarded diva. People you never spoke to were telling you jokes. That creepy weekend dj was your dance partner to some Stevie Wonder. Magical.

The tech shop boys party melted away an unproductive day before Christmas. I find myself this afternoon pining for Darryl et al and a tech shop party. Instead, I am praying my boss lets us go soon.

Festively Yours,
xoxoSallyS

Red Screen of Death

There's a warning issued for Vancouver Island. A dire warning.

The Weather Network issued a warning to us all last night and this morning. We are to be aware of extreme weather conditions. You know what they are?

2-4 centimetres of snow

Temperature of -1

Byron and I watched that last night and hooted with laughter. But to native Victorians, this is no laughing matter. They are spooked. The mere thought of snow sends them all into a panic. -1?! People are shivering and shaking all over. It's hysterical to watch.

And when I scoff at them and laugh at the ridiculousness of the dire warnings, I get death glares. Really? They're freaked that in December, the weather gods would deign give them a skiff of snow and fart of cold air?

This place gets increasingly bizarre to me. For gods sake, I have worn sandals in the snow! (Although it was part of an outfit for a party and snow or no snow, I needed to be somewhat cute.) So batten down the hatches and stock up on canned goods. We're getting a snow storm followed by a cold snap. I predict mayhem. Scooters will be overturned on the sidewalks, flower blossoms will be wilted. Chaos will abound. We won't see a senior for days, except for the poor dearie whose scooter flipped in the "snow".

Freezingly Yours,
xoxoSallyS

Month Two

Today, Byron and I have been married for two months. We have been a couple for 18 months. And it's been a kick-ass ride! I've never had so much fun, so much laughter, and love in my life. Even when we hit the bumps, it's still a worthwhile ride.

In the two months since we made it official, I have been asked A LOT how marriage feels. Or how is life now as a married woman. Or how my life has changed.

It hasn't. Was it supposed to? Life as a married woman feels pretty much the same as life as a woman in a deeply committed relationship. Marriage, however, feels awesome! I no longer have to refer to Byron as my fiance, then fielding further questions about wedding date, which then leads to incessant questions about venuedressfoodguests.

There is, however, this intense feeling of safety. As if from the minute he proposed to 4:59pm on September 19th, either one of us could have walked away relatively unscathed - except for a shattered heart. Now that we are officially married, we are fully intertwined in financial matters, or material things, or even future goals. I can't on a whim decide to work for Shell International in Kuala Lumpur. He can't wake up tomorrow and decide he needs to quit his job. It's comforting to know that my next life step will be taken in tandem with the one I love.

But other than that... life goes on. Am I supposed to feel different as a wife? I don't act differently. I am pretty much par for the course on the homefront. I acted like a 1950's housewife with a job before the wedding and I still do.

We both still get a thrill out of calling each other "husband" and "wife" I still giggle when he calls me "Wife". I love that name!

Committedly Yours,
xoxoSallyS

Buttinskis

My friend, Tasha has had this happen to her many times, but until today I thought she was nuts. I never believed that people would blatantly butt in line. I saw a woman butt in line behind me at Starbucks this morning. Thankfully, she butted behind me, otherwise I would have gotten all indignant-snotty on her. And it wasn't even a butt in front of two people, no. She butted in front of at least 12 people, in a line that snaked out the door!

And no one said a word.

I stood there waiting, and could see her taking her coat off at a table. Then, she appeared next to me, with a look on her face like she was in the right. I looked at her, looked at the people behind me, looked at her again. I thought maybe she was with the group behind me, but no. She inched up beside me, and I relished the idea for a brief moment of going all bitch-face on her ass and telling her where the line ended, which was NOT beside me.

Where do people get this sense of importance? And why don't people tell these buttinskis that they're rude assholes? I've done it before when someone butts in front of me. And I love the "qui? moi?" expressions on their faces like they had no clue I was behind them.

By the time my drinks were made, Bitchface Buttinski had slurped back her coffee and was gone again.

Ashtonishingly Yours,
xoxoSallyS