You can go your own way.

OK *breathes deeply*, here it is. I haven't touched this blog in weeks (months, even). I was on an unannounced hiatus, but I'm ready to talk.

This is a place for whimsy, sharing pretty things I love, talking about clothes I can't afford, laughing at my own neuroses, and dissecting semi-serious issues with silliness. I'm not a private person. Look, you know my bra size. I have a post in the works about my gastro-intestinal woes. It's the interpersonal stuff; the hard relationship battles just don't belong here.

But, well, something big happened. So big, that I have to break my own rule and let you know what's up. I will soon want to start blogging about the transformation of my new apartment, complete with curiously hyper-feminine colour schemes and my polka-dot fridge. There will be questions. 

Here's the thing *hard swallow*: two months ago, I left my husband. 

"I'm OK."

"It's totally OK." 

I will reassure you. I will manage your grief because it's almost harder to bear than my own. I will convince you, with my laughing and with my business-as-usual tweets about puppies and pretty wallpaper and eating burritos in my underwear, that everything is normal. That I am thriving. That I do not have doubts or fears or sadness.

But I do. Sometimes.

You may not think that I am weeping outwardly enough. My level of drama might not befit the tragedy. But while you and my mother and my friends are hearing this news for the first time, know I have suffered an entire year in silence, as doubts and questions about my marriage simmered well-hidden under my lid. By the time it happened, I was already making my way towards acceptance. Not sharing much about my feelings with anyone meant that there was silent bathroom crying, private-blogging, and other out-of-sight coping. I was wearing black on the inside.

I'm at a place now where I'm not going to waste full Sundays in sweats, eating Costco-sized bags of Sour Cream n' Bacon Ruffles, watching back-to-back-to-back episodes of Being Erica (and relating to her, like, bigtime). I will be OK. But please know this: it is the hardest thing I've ever done. Ever. The decision did not come easily.

Put very simply, we grew apart. In an opposites-attract scenario, meeting in the middle sometimes involves too much compromise. You expect to grow and settle into a beautiful happy middle-ground (and we did for a while), but fiercely stubborn people will sometimes grow straight up, towards the sun, independently. We are proud sunflowers with woody, rigid stalks and we are growing in different fields, miles apart.

I spent 7 years with Alex. I love him. I have possibly too-optimistic hopes that we will stay good friends. We are co-parenting two dogs, after all. But so far, so good, you guys! I could maybe write a book on the subject of clean, mature break-ups. Or at least a future blog post. (I'm managing your expectations here.)

 Two weeks ago, I moved into my new apartment. 

Two weeks ago, I started a brand new life as a 33-year-old single girl. *gulp* 

My ensuing posts and tweets on the subject will return to the style you expect from me: "Dying alone with cats since 2013." and "Who's gonna open my jars, now!?" and "Dude, I have sooooo much legroom in bed!" and "Eating all the chips because I live alone." and "Off to get my eggs frozen, you guys!*  

But please don't think I'm being insensitive or making light of a really, really hard situation. It's a protective shell, and it's how I cope. Sarcasm = drugs.

If you know me IRL, here's some advice: I love your texts and your hugs and your visits to my tiny new pad (avec wine, please). OK, shower me with ALL THE attention, aiiiight? I need that more than I let on. And trust me, it's not an awkward subject. Ask me outright. Not a private person, remember? Not at all.

(Bra size: 34A. Current chequing account balance: $8.06. Number of meals involving tacos in the past week: 6.)

 *builds IKEA furniture by herself* *makes it on her own*

Playing Dress-Up: Suzy Bishop

1. Vintage binoculars on Etsy $25-$250 // 2.Tara Jarmon peter-pan collar dress $460 // 3. Cicada earrings on Etsy $25 // 4. MAC eyeshadow in Aquadisiac $15 // 5. Vintage tackle basket on Etsy $50 // 6. Portable record player on Etsy $70-$300 // 7. Jeffrey Campbell saddle shoes $115 // 8. Falke London knee socks $24 // 9. Vintage books and handwritten love letters on Etsy $5-$35

---

This is probably going to be my Halloween costume this year! Not surprising, right? I'm just so thrilled to have another Wes Anderson female character to emulate. I've wanted to re-do Margot since I embodied her several years ago, but recycling ideas seemed cheap, especially for a Halloween über-enthusiast like me. 

So yea, Suzy! 

 

{ scene from Moonrise Kingdom }

Of course, I will find a way to MacGyver most of it and keep my budget to a minimum. I'll scour Value Village over the next couple of weeks, and maybe pick up the odd Etsy item to round it out. 

Hubby is obvi going as my pre-teen love-interest, Sam Shakusky. It will involve a hearty face-shave (i'm nervous). We both get to pretend to be 13 again. Pretty cute, since we were 13 when we first met on a yellow school bus.

Photos coming soon!

p.s. I even curated a little Etsy treasury for more great Wes Anderson costume inspiration!

---

Additional image credits: Collage by me, Portable record player via Ubiquity Records, Cicada Earrings via The Village Idiot, Binoculars via Bruneau vs Bennett

Flashback.

Just found the MOTHER LODE: the last box of my shit (yes, shit) that was allowed to stay in my parents' basement. Forget that my brother still has a ROOM full of junk - my box was no longer welcome. 

While attempting to locate my high school diary (to subject myself to more internet humiliation), I remembered that this castaway box had yet to be explored. Diary Schmiary. This is the good stuff. I would like to scan and share all of it now-now-NOW because it's just too ridiculous to keep to myself for much longer. But, well, it's a good 25 years or so of pure embarrassment/awesomeness, and will demand a good chunk of my non-existent time. More soon, I promise!

Contents of the box include (but are not limited to): high school ID cards, 1998 bus pass, letters written (but never sent) to ex-boyfriends, letters from ex-boyfriends, letters from my Ethiopian pen pal, my petrified prom corsage, movie stubs to 'Airheads' and 'Austin Powers', Best Actress trophy 1990 (I played one fierce wicked stepmother WITH A SOLO), my Subway Sandwich Artist name tag, Swimming badges, Girl Guides of Canada membership card, valentines from my Grandmother circa the 80s, a copy of the July 1996 issue of Seventeen (cover story: "What you don't know about Jared Leto").

 By the way, if you were my friend at any point between 1986 and 1998 and you ever sent me a letter, card, valentine, love note, written apology, drawing, invitation or postcard, I PROBABLY STILL HAVE IT. Ask me. Vicky, I have so much dirt on you. (How's THAT for a blog-mention, you attention-whore?)

 

The box also contained this:

Did any of you do this in high school? I laughed at my girlfriend Leah for keeping hers, but it seems that I'm equally guilty of hoarding* tendencies. 

Anyway, this find is particularly hilarrr because my NUMBER ONE MATCH (!!!) would go on to be the singer in my future husband's band. You'll recognize the name, no doubt.

Hubby is miffed about this (and also for not making the list), I think. You may remember that we attended the same school? I doubt he participated anyway. While I was a joiner (SCHOOL SPIRIT! YEAH!), he had disdain for joining and cheering. Also, he had a scuzzy goatee. It wouldn't have worked.

Unfortunately, THIS guy didn't make the list:

(*my grandmother literally was a hoarder, as in the worst of the worst of the worst on the TLC program by the same name. It's sad. It's hereditary. Since I don't want to die on piles of newspapers and cat feces, my stuff-attachment is now in check.)

l'halloween!

We can't disappoint. Not now. Not after 6 years of blood-sweat-and-hot-glue costume-making.

My mother says she knew Alex was "the one" when he agreed to be hauled half way across town to a costume party. In May. Several months yet until Halloween. After only 2 months of dating. Surely a boy with this much enthusiasm for playing dress-up was meant for me. Match! Made! In! Heaven!

We even discovered that we had both painstakingly (and separately) recreated separate characters from The Royal Tenenbaums on the same Halloween BEFORE WE EVEN MET (ahem, the second/adult time). That year I cut seven whole inches off my (then blonde) hair mere minutes before a party and smoked half a pack of cigarettes (I was a non-smoker) so as to be unfailingly Margot.

He already had the hair. And the sad eyes. A perfect Richie. Or so I'm led to believe. Without proper photographic evidence, I can only speculate.

Knowing his dedication to Halloween (he's a purist), I'd betcha he was spot on.

Maybe we'd have (re)met this way, instead of via a fated newspaper photo:

Perfect.

But ever since we did meet (against not quite as heartbreaking a soundtrack) we planned out our costumes each summer, scouring thrift shops, trimming wigs, sewing faux fur, and hot-gluing 1000s of sequins late into the fall. We earned ourselves a nice little reputation for our costumes. A retrospective:

2006: Black & White (yep, this is a full-colour un-touched photo!) 

2007 Pan + Hook

2008 Mr. Tumnus + The White Witch

2009 - Fisherman + Lunch

2010 Katy + Russell

This year, however, we somehow lost our spirit. It was just days before the big day when I decided: NO, we can't skip Halloween. What? Us? No. So we decided on a costume that would be simple, require no sewing, gluing, or epic shopping trips. Our costumes cost $15 each and only required a little planning and painting. Cheap, yes. Simple, sure.

But yeah, 2 days of straight painting due to the unexpected transparency of the cheap craft acrylic. Sigh.

We have a penchant for self-torture. How very appropriate. I think, in the end, we were glad we didn't snub best-day-of-the-year. The result was pretty cool:

 

 

Maybe next year we'll just buy big gorilla masks.

Yeah... no. I may or may not have a few ideas up my sleeve for next year. Easy this time. Really.

It's not you. It's me.

Dear Sweet Thing,

It's been swell, but I think we've outgrown each other. I'm moving on. Can we still be friends?

Forever Your Yoko Ono,

Dayna

This blog wasn't initially created as a promotion tool for the band (well, not primarily, anyway). And frankly, at this point, they don't really need it. They have legit marketing people in their entourage, as well as their own social networking outlets. No, this blog is about me. M-E. And because my life is so tightly woven with the happenings of the band, they tend to have a pretty strong supporting role in my posts. It's inevitable.

Let me be clear: I may have married 1/5 of the band, but I in no way represent them, nor do any of my opinions reflect theirs (necessarily). I do just genuinely believe in them, and for selfish reasons I know that their success = Alex's success = my success. That's just the way marriage works. It's a "we" thing. But maybe I overstep my boundaries because I'm privy to more information than the average fan or music-media outlet? I don't mean to. I'm just sharing everything about my life, which happens to include my relationship with a music-man. Is it OK to be truly-madly!-DEEPLY! in love with Alex but to fall (a little) out of love with the rest of it?

I get the Yoko rap, unfairly. The choice of name for this blog was intended to be tongue-in-cheek, but Yoko: I feel you, dog. This is a way, way, WAY awkward position. Especially being the only legit wife (so far). But I've been really supportive, insanely understanding, and non-meddling. Really, i have. I used to think of it this way: I am in first wife position and Sweet Thing is Alex's concubine - this other woman with whom I had to share and play nicely. Now, I know that the band is actually the first wife, and I've been demoted. Not because Alex loves me any less. It just has to be that way. She gets first dibs and I'm OK with that. 

I reiterated to him yesterday that I am fully in favour of him spending more and more waking hours on band stuff. He already works so hard. Big, big things are imminent. The more he works now, the better chances they/he/we have for a comfortable future. And remember, eventually it'll be my turn.

I can't really talk about my reasons (it's oversharing that gets me in trouble), but I'm steering this blog back to its original intent, with a focus on what it's like being me. The bandwife condition. I'm distancing myself from Sweet Thing, because, well, I am. It's like a really clean break-up. We'll still be friends, of course. After I'm done licking my wounds. I will continue to tweet great band news, post photos when I snap them, and share videos and links on Facebook. But, this break-up is for the best. I'm reclaiming this blog as mine; the disassociation gives me more freedom.

It's not my job to act as a marketing arm of the band, and I've never been asked to do it. And because I'm just so bloody awkward, my helpful intentions are frequently misinterpreted. It IS my job, however, to be a rock for my husband and support him in whatever he does. It's also my job to think about myself and to not count on Alex's success. Not rocket science, right? Maybe it's not my time to pursue my own big dream in a real/all-encompassing way just yet, but it doesn't mean that my own pursuits (as tadpole as they may be so far) are meaningless.

Monday, I start a new "real" job as the EA to the President of a big Canadian bath & beauty company. I'm getting more wholesale interest in Dudley & Bea. I'm staying on as a freelance writer with blogTO. I'm considering a one-hour bike commute to work. I'm practicing hot yoga again. While Alex will be spending a lot of time on the road with Wife #1 (and no room for stowaways), I need to divert focus away from feeling left out and lonely. 

It's energy better spent on me.

Images: pages from If We Ever Break Up, This is My Book by Jason Logan.

Survival

How do we do it? Easy. This is how:

Testing... 

 

Success!

We wouldn't survive without iChat and Skype. OK, we would. But this is waaaay better.

Alex called from his Calgary hotel room in between a radio interview and soundcheck today. We're lucky to be able to sneak these little moments. I miss him. More than you know.

Pralines N' Cream or Chocolate Mint?

I've always been bad at making decisions. I used to write pro/con lists in my high-school diary to compare boys that I was crushing on. There were at least three at any given time. 

 [ Me and Jill with our cousin David, centre. Boy on the right was a fleeting crush. Ah, to be 15. ]

I decided, for the purpose of evidence of my indecisiveness, to dig out one of my old journals and scan a page, sure that I would find a reasonable example. I didn't have to look past page 1 of my 10th Grade diary. I managed to talk about FOUR boys, and it was only the first day of school. *sigh* 

I was about to scan it when I noticed that boy #4 was none other than MY HUSBAND! What?!? Did I have so many crushes that year that I completely forgot that Alex was one of them (briefly)?! By page 2 I was already beginning what would be a year of obsessing over and quasi-dating one boy/loser in particular, that I apparently completely forgot about my page-1 crushes. 

I always told Alex, after (re-)meeting him in 2006, that I never thought about him "that way" in high school. Lies. (If you didn't already know, he had a decade-long crush on me) It's too bad that Mr. Loser distracted me from what was obviously my best choice on page/day 1. It obviously all worked out in the end. I only had to date 100,000 losers (and a few nice but horribly ill-matched guys) over the course of 13 years to get there. We never would have made it, I think, if we had hooked up back then. I needed a basis for comparison, maybe.

Here's the page:

Notes:

- Boy names were blacked out for obvious reasons (hello, world-wide-web!)

- This is incredibly humiliating - don't judge. I was 15.

- Yes, I wrote entirely in all-caps for years, thanks to my Grade 8 shop teacher

I think I might also scan pages from my diaries more often. They are amusing (for you), even if they're mortifying (for me).

 [ if Angela Chase taught us anything, it's that being a teenager is, like, so hard (via nypost.com) ]

The point of this post was SUPPOSED to be about a current conundrum that has left me muddled and indecisive. I ended up a little off-track, hey?

OK, so yeah, I can't make decisions. Shoe colour, ice cream flavour, films. And, uh, what the heck I'm doing with my life. I know the long-term goal - my own pet boutique. But what-oh-WHAT do I do in the meantime. I've been offered a job (the little secret I can't tell you), but there's a catch. 

Here's where I'm at:

Option A: Take above-mentioned position which is WAY-WAY awesome, but doesn't pay a ton and would potentially be pretty demanding time-wise. Pros: It's a pretty amazing opportunity to do something i love...and get paid for it! Cons: It's not really in my ultimate desired field (although it's something I've always had a strong interest in), it doesn't leave me much time to work towards my little business idea, and doesn't help me save that much money.

Option B: Stay on EI, spending my time working on my business and looking for a job in corporate retail. Pros: More time for my business now, better money and applicability to my business when I do find one. Cons: I may never find a job (I've been interviewing and applying like crazy to no avail). Or, I may find a job that makes me miserable and ends up being more demanding than I anticipated.

Either way, I am in no position to open shop for another year or two, and sadly Alex's rock-star salary isn't going to carry us through, so I need to find work fast. Gotta say, I am leaning towards Option A. It's a really great gig, despite it's downfalls, and it's an ACTUAL offer. Saying no would mean I'm back to being officially unemployed. And my EI isn't going to last forever. 

Arggghhhh! 

---

Rayanne: You wanna have sex with him.
Angela: Who?
Rayanne: Who. Jordan. Catalano. Come on, I'm not gonna tell anyone, just admit it.
Angela: I just like how he's always leaning. Against stuff. He leans great. Well, either sex or a conversation. Ideally both.

RIP My So Called Life 1994-1995

Another one like this.

Just another dose of verbal diarrhea from yours truly. Nothing substantial/important/exciting to write about but I just need to share randomness.

I STILL haven't checked to see if my camera survived the little swim she took last week. Tomorrow, I've decided, my little heart will be able to handle the news - good or (most likely) bad. She's still lying in a box of rice. Like a mini coffin. Hm, I'm being so uncharacteristically "glass half empty", right? Will report back.

 [ I clearly need this (horrifically unsightly) contraption. via gadgetsin.com ]

I had two job leads today - calls in to some HR contacts. But, I do have to fire out a few more resumes tomorrow. I need to step it up. EI is so not cutting it, and dammit, I need new fall clothes!

 [ covet! covet! covet! Shoes: OlsenHaus Pic: edgeofurge.com ]

OH NO! I have some alarming news. Brace yourselves. OK, so back-story: Alex and I have done the SAME thing almost every Friday since we moved onto Brunswick 3 years ago. Our very, very favourite restaurant/take-out joint on the planet, Nataraj, is part of it.  Tonight, they were not answering the phone. I just did some investigating and the lights out and there's a "For Rent" sign in the window. Whhhhhhyyyyyy?!?! I really have no idea what we'll do on Friday nights anymore. I feel lost. We may have to move. Could this be the end of an era? *sniff* I ate Ghazale instead, which was technically good, but I was too bitter to really enjoy it.

 [ I will never be this food-happy again. Ever. ]

So Miss Mistletoe came over last night for some spontaneous midnight snacking/crafting. I was really grateful for the last-minute social interaction. Truthfully, I was getting a little stir-crazy with all of the sewing. I've got a little ad-hoc sweat shop set up in the living room while the Mister is outta town. I'm making goodies for my little pet biz while watching Felicity all over again from the beginning (just starting season 2). 

 [ via fanforum.com ]

M and I also talked until 3am, and started re-watching Freaks and Geeks (one of THE best shows EVER). Yeah, waaaay past my bedtime. But we had a great chat, which culminated in the following conclusion: we are both squares, but happily so. 

Oh and me and my best girls checked out this place last week: Snakes and Lattes, board game cafe! Genius! 

[ That's us, discovering Geoshapes. Too fun! photos by the lovely Ms. Shraya ]

Yes, and there is the subject of my health. My sister told me to call her first, so that she didn't have to find out details of my medical woes via Facebook again. But her phone situation in Costa Rica is sketchy right now. Sorry Jill - here's the update: lung scan OK, still taking a steroid inhaler every day and have a Dr. appt on Friday. No answers yet, but the pain seems to be less intense and less frequent. I think the inhaler is working, meaning that it probably WAS just lung inflammation due to asthma. *whew*

Alex and I have managed to iChat twice a day everyday since he left. I am grateful for the wifi on their tour bus. I'm missing him, of course, but it's actually been really easy this time. I guess we're getting good at being apart. Not that I love it. We're just adapting to this necessary evil.

 [ so cute, right? photo by Mark Cohene ]

The guys play Saskatoon tonight (right now, in fact) and Winnipeg tomorrow. Gawd, I want to be in Winnipeg SO badly. Lots of way-old friends will be there again. *sigh* Apparently Justin Nozuka's girlfriend is along for the ride (jealous!). One day, one day. I suppose when the boys have their own tour bus, i may be able to weasel my way on to it. Hey, if I can get into a Strombo TIFF party, I can do anything, right?

Alex is back Saturday!!! 5 days!! Woo hoo! One of my oldest friends and one of my very favourite people of all time is coming to Toronto this weekend too. She's my date for the Sweet Thing show at the Phoenix, and a party happening later in celebration of the 5-year anniversary of friends' amazing little company. Then Sunday... we'll be married for a WHOLE YEAR! Can't wait for the weekend.

Yeah, so, back to sewing and waiting for a text from my Little Husband on the Prairie.

G'night! xo

p.s. Oh gosh, I keep forgetting Yoko. And really, as simple as this quote may be, it's good advice for me this week: "I'm not going to doubt my life." - Yoko Ono

WeekEND!

Thank goodness for moms who borrow your apartment and leave large bags of potato chips in your cupboard. Am i right?! Y'know, when you're falling in love with James McEvoy on TV 'cause your husband is outta town? And you need to eat your feelings? We've all been there. Right? 

Just re-watched Penelope (so good) while devouring next day pizza and half a bottle of wine. It's times like these, especially after the day I've had, that I could use my fuzzy husband. But potato chips are a close second. 

Brunch tomorrow with my girls, and then a full week of productivity (hopefully)! I just hope I can drag myself out of my "what's my place in this world" slump (I'm waxing existential). 

I still haven't had the heart to check my camera today, after I (probably) ruined it after dousing it in a bottle of air-freshener. Purse-content-fail. It's just too depressing to fathom at this point. Luckily, I think that my seriously expensive lens is OK. Egad! What a week!

On the bright side, Alex and I had an hour Skype-fest tonight and  he actually had a working webcam. I got a little verklempt when I saw his face. He noticed. I hoped that crappy-web-cam pixelation would cover my teary-ness. Not so.

Off to bed now. Will substitute dog-snuggling for the human variety. Poor things. G'night! XO

(There is literally no point whatsoever in writing this blog. Self-pity? Narcissism? I guess that's what blogs are for anyway, right?)

Deja Vu.

[ Golly, sometimes I wish i was a 50s housewife. Wasn't love just so EASY? ha. Image via: comicsmagazines.com]

We're apart. Here's how it see it:

Melodramatic girl-anxiety reality: I am rotting in an office while Alex leaves me alone and suffering to lead a glamorous rockstar life on the road. I am neglected and abused.

Actual reality: I picked up some pretty rewarding work from a generous friend and have an amazing week full of girl-dates while Alex is stuck sleeping on a bus far from home, missing me desperately. I am the luckiest girl alive!

[ soon, soon, we'll be toe-to-toe. photo via: josepharnone.com ]

I fluctuate my beliefs between these two, swapping one "reality" for another. But I'm in a good place today. Poor Alex. How IS he surviving without me?!

We were able to chat for a good half-hour yesterday (thanks to fortuitous time-difference scheduling) but we've only been able to interact today via a couple of hasty text messages. I have nothing to report on last night's show - a free show in Victoria that was not part of the tour. Today the actual tour starts, and they will be connecting with Justin Nozuka's crew today to play a Vancouver show (sorry Victoria for the mistake on my last post). 

This tour is almost identical to their last (headlining) tour in the summer, except that this time the audiences should be larger (hopefully), because: A. They will play to JN's fan base, and B. They should have their own draw now that the album is released and they're getting cross-country play on most (if not ALL) of the adult-contemporary/pop stations. So yeah, I hope this is not a complete deja vu...

Also, they get to sleep on a bus! Cool! OK, so maybe the novelty will wear off in a few days and Alex will be missing his bed (OUR bed). Is it sick that I hope this is true? 

[ gosh it's lonely without you. ]

Dog-date with Courtney (2 birds, one stone) after work and then i will hopefully be able to squeeze in a good long-distance love session with Alex. I will report on any new tour details later. Oh, and I'm making cilantro pesto and cleaning the fridge/dungeon tonight, too.

In the meantime, have you checked out the band's website lately? Ch-ch-changes! The splash page now features the embedded Change of Seasons video, and some news has been posted on the main page. Two of the guys are apparently serving lemonade in the MM parking lot this month. What? This is news to me, considering i thought Alex wouldn't be back until the 25th. Not so, my friends! Upon closer examination of the schedule, it looks like i MAY see him sooner. Yaaaaaay! There is a 3-day gap between the Winnipeg and London shows. 

(Did I mention that our 1-YEAR anniversary is the day after the tour officially ends? Huzzzah!)

---

p.s. Just a reminder of the upcoming shows:

Tuesday, September 14th 2010 Vancouver, Vogue Theatre

Wednesday, September 15th 2010 Kelowna, Mary Irwin Theatre

Thursday, September 16th 2010 Edmonton, Starlite Room

Saturday, September 18th 2010 Calgary, The Den

Monday, September 20th 2010 Saskatoon, Louis’ Pub

Tuesday, September 21st 2010 Winnipeg, Garrik Center

Friday, September 24th 2010 London, London Music Hall

Saturday, September 25th 2010 Toronto, Phoenix Concert Theatre


Ta-ta! 

 

And...break!

[ We clean up real nice. ]

Holy DanceMotherF*cker! It's been too long since I've posted anything here. 

Sweet Thing business has been slow-ish after a crazy few weeks of releasing the album, launching the video, visiting radio stations, and playing MTV Live and the CNE. Of course, things will pick up again by the end of the week. The boys are playing a show with K-OS in Kingston this Friday, then they head out for a few weeks supporting Justin Nozuka on a Canadian West/Central/Ontario tour. I won't be catching any of it (y'know, until Alex and I get our OWN tour bus), besides the Phoenix show. Check out details HERE!

I always have mixed feelings about these long stretches of husband-less living. I will miss him dreadfully, obviously, but I also look forward to uninterrupted creativity and productivity. Not that he's unsupportive of these things when he's here.... he's just a distraction. 

---

In the little break, we took off for Ottawa for the long-weekend to attend our friends' wedding. Have I mentioned that I LOVE weddings!? Especially when it's one of my forever friends marrying a super-great guy. Who's next? Who's next? 

Yup, that's me reading - it went off without a flub or a tear. Yessss. You can see that I DIDN'T wear that sequined number that I bought specifically for this occasion. I had last minute wardrobe-cold-feet and felt too conspicuous in all-sequins. There was no way I would have out-staged the bride (GORGEOUS) but I didn't want to look like I was trying. Sequins were a bit much. So I pulled this baby out of the depths of my closet. Even though I am no longer a size 2 (*sniff*), I squeezed into it. Sausage Town. Poor, poor zipper.

I didn't drink too much, and felt quite sober actually, but still ended up: riding Dawn around like a horse, reenacting the lift scene from Dirty Dancing (and failing), allowing my leg to be used as a guitar, entertaining the masses with an inside-joke lap-dance with Vicky (ahem. Ride it. My pony.), as well as inexplicably falling flat on the floor. These girls bring out the best (worst?) in me. Yikes. My camera was full of (mostly) PG pics, but I know that some incriminating evidence will surface on Facebook later. Oh dear. 

Sure, they LOOK innocent...

The DJ played two Sweet Thing tracks. This was a mix of awesome-meets-awkward for Alex and I, but everyone loved it and it was cool to see a dance floor full of random people belting out lyrics to my Mister's hits. I couldn't dance much, because I was laughing hysterically at Alex the whole time. Ha! 

The next morn, we grabbed dive-y motel breakfast with my best girls (and their best guys). 

The motel washroom vending machine sold sex toys. I suggested that they could possibly sell USEFUL items like lady-things and Advil (for post-wedding morning-after headaches) but then realized that these were much more fun. We just had to buy some, 'cause we're real mature like that.

p.s. While in Ottawa, we heard the guys on 3 different stations. Yahoooo!

---

So wanna know why I'm a huge loser? 

Remember how I mentioned that I was going to apply for the City of Craft holiday show this year? And how my kitchen turned into a sweatshop for a week while I sewed and cut and designed my face off? 

Well, since I have been out of the 9-to-5 for so long, I have no concept of dates (uh, what year is it?) and I mistakenly thought that the 31st was last Wednesday. Nope, it was Tuesday. So I missed the deadline to apply. ARGH! All is not lost, though. I did get a good whack of work done on my pet coats and toys, and will probably have my little Etsy shop up and running within the week. I'll need to see if I can squeeze into another craft show before Xmas (although City of Craft is the best!). 

Sneak preview:

That's news, folks. Must job hunt, grocery shop, and finish laundry. This is the REAL life of a wife of a so-far marginally successful Canadian band. Excitement!