Well, It's a beautiful day today, and like most people, I've been stuck inside working. I'm one of the lucky ones, though. It's 4:00 and I'm finished. I guess I'll go to the dog park with Frisky.

A couple of months ago, I met this cute guy at the park. He was with his dog, whose ass frisky was busy sniffing. "Just checking his I.D." I always say. Anyway, after a short conversation, I was on my way back to my car, when I thought, Hmmm, he was cute, kinda charming, the right age group, I should have asked him if he was single.

Even though I had never met this guy before and for all I knew he was an axe murderer, in the next few weeks my mind would occasionally flash on him, wondering if maybe he was just my type. I vowed that if I saw him again, I would have the nerve to ask him if he was single.

Well, there I was at the park one day, when Frisky ran toward another dog and they began to sniff each other's butts like it was their last butt-sniff on earth. It was this dude's dog! So I casually wandered over to say hi to him, and he was with his MOM!! Not that there's anything wrong with a guy walking dogs with his mom, but I can't very well hit on him with his mummy watching! So we said our hellos, had a short conversation, and I went on my way. I haven't run into him since, though Frisky has been going on A LOT of walks. In fact, I think the little guy could use a walk at the park right now, unselfish as I am.

Well, after much anticipation, Taylor Hicks is the new American Idol. Apparently there were more votes on Tuesday night for American Idol, than there ever has been for a president of the United States. A sad commentary on people's priorities? Yes indeed. I was saying to my client this morning, though, that if people didn't have to get off their couches to vote, and could do it from their own telephone, there would probably be a lot more voting. A sad commentary on people's motivation to assert their power within a democracy? Uh huh.

Well I'm off to the beauty supply store. I won't buy too much, though, because after Friday, when I win the super 7, I'll be hanging up my scissors to live the rest of my life rolling around in money. A sad commentary on what I would do if I won millions of dollars? I'm afraid so.

Once when I was in the second grade, my friend Sylvia and I decided to play hookey. What we didn't click into was that it was very shortly after a horrifying news frenzy about a young girl who was savagely murdered in our town. It was so close, there was a long period where all the parents were driving their little ones to and from school(back in the days when that wasn't the norm.) Of course the attention span of a 7 year old leaves something to be desired, so though we new of the attack, it wasn't in our minds at that moment. As we were wandering through the suburban streets killing time, the school was contacting our mothers, sending them into a maternal panic!

I remember Sylvia getting upset when we walked within eye-shot of the school field. There happened to be a group of children and adults doing some activities that looked like it was sports day. I tried to reason with her, explaining that we would know if it was sports day. That's when it all began to go down hill.

There we were, two little girls wandering down the street in the middle of a school day, when we noticed a strange car slowly approaching us from the opposite direction. Our minds suddenly flashed on the recent news that our parents couldn't stop talking about. We were pretty scared. As the car got closer, the sun was hiding the face of the driver. When we finally were able to determine the driver's identity, we were even more scared than before.

I'd never driven in a principal's car before. It smelled new and leathery...and there was the distinct odor of fear. When we got to the office and sat down, I could see that Sylvia was losing it. During the interrogation, I had tried to stick to the compelling and believable story, that we were, "walking slowly and took the long way," but Sylvia was crumbling under the pressure. It wasn't long before she tearfully blurted out, "We were playing hookey!"

Y'know, I don't even remember if we were punished for what we did, though I think the good firm talking-to we received from the principal was punishment enough. I'd never been happier to be back in my desk at school than I was after leaving that office.

A few years ago, Alicia was to go on an exchange trip to Quebec. Being a single mom, I had to fundraise my ass off to get her there. One of the fundraisers was the ever-popular pub night. The pub was packed full of fellow fundraising parents and all the friends and family they could drag there. As the evening came close to an end, I excused myself to go to the ladies room. On the way, I was distracted by a friend of mine, who was sitting at another table with her posse. Of course I joined them for a few minutes, laughing and chatting, and feeling pretty cute in the new outfit I had bought that day. While I was mingling, someone had said something funny, to which I replied with a laugh, "What a ripper!" before excusing myself and heading for my original destination.

After finishing up in the ladies, I was doing the customary once over in the mirror: hair, make-up, shoes (no tp on them) and butt (how's it lookin in these new pants?) To my horror I saw that the seem of my pants had completely unraveled, revealing almost my entire behind, with the exception of the quarter inch wide g-string down the middle. What to do!?! I had nothing to cover up with, and my sister and girlfriends had only just gone to the ladies room a few moments before! So I couldn't even wait it out until someone I knew came in.

Eventually, I mustered up the courage to sneak past most of the people with my hands clasped casually but strategically behind me. Once back to my seat, I informed my friends that it was getting a little drafty for my taste, wrapped a sweater around my waste, and bolted. Phew! I made it out without anyone noticing.

The next day I emailed a few people that I thought might get a laugh out of my misfortune. Soon after, the friend whose table I joined for a while at the event called me on the phone. She said that when I said, "What a ripper!" she assumed I was referring to the large tear in my pants!
"You saw that?" I demanded in a panic.
"Everyone did!" she said.
"Are you serious!?!?" I asked in a frenzy, feeling the blood leave my face.
To which she replied through giggles and snorts, "No... I was just screwing with you."
That wasn't the only eruption of laughter over what we now call, "the incident." I took quite the ribbing from a variety of people. I laughed right along with them, though. It was damned funny!

Well, yesterday was Mother's day, so I hope all the mums out there had a really nice day. My family went for a nice brunch and then came back to my place for a visit. It was sunny and hot so I whipped up some of those lemon drop martinis I was yacking about the other day. yum-yum. My daughter bought me some bubble bath and a bath fizzy from "Lush". Also, she helped my mom and dad surprise me with a new patio table and chairs I've had my eye on. Pretty extravagant gift for mother's day! Not only that, but they picked one up for my sister, who isn't even a mom! My parents are so sweet that way. Sheryl got me a nice card.

Last year I created a new holiday in my sister's honor. It lands on the same day as Mothers day and is called, "Spinster's Day". We all had a good belly laugh when Alicia and I bought her a Spinster's day card last year. Sheryl and I were joking a couple of days before Mom's day, that it wasn't fair that there was no special day honoring single people with no kids. So we created one. You have to take the initiative on these things, y'know.

My sis got my mom some pretty perfume, my bro got her the DVD "Walk the Line" and Alicia got her this big garden ornament of a frog lounging in a chair with an umbrella behind him. Really cute. I got her 4 Winsor Palates tapes. She's been wanting to try it. My dad bought us all brunch. It was a really nice day. Later, I went to my sister's to watch our soapie, coronation street, and then the season finale of Survivor. By the end of the day, I was dragging my behind to bed. All that sun combined with a couple of lemon drops must have done me in!

Alicia says our computer is fixed!!! Yaaaay!!! I'm still using the one at work, though, because that's where I happen to be right now.

Last night I worked late to do my sister's hair. So I gathered all the fixings to make Oprah's favorite martini, the lemon drop, and carted it over to my parents' house (I work in a little salon my dad built me in his house.) There we were, my mom, my sis Sheryl, and me, all sitting around drinking the nummiest martinis I've ever had. They are my new fave. This is how you make them. You must try, they are so easy and good.

Put in your martini shaker: the juice from 4 lemons
4 mint leaves
4 tablespoons of sugar
4 shots of vodka
fill the rest up with ice and shake for 30 seconds.
Moisten the rim of two martini glasses with lemon
and then dip in sugar. Pour martini in glasses
and toss a mint leaf in each one for garnish.
Oh, they are so good, but DANGEROUS. I only had one and a half, and I was buzzin along quite nicely. We had a few giggles and by the grace of God, Sheryl's hair didn't turn out green and purple. I will definitely be making these again, but I will use caution. They go down a little too smooth.

Last night I had my heart broken. Chris from American Idol was voted off. Aside from the fact that he's about a half inch shorter than Ryan Seacrest, I believe he is the perfect man.
Cute, sexy, masculine, talented, hot, hot, hot...did I mention hot? The problem is, his genre of music, appeals to a specific group of people (like me), whereas someone like Taylor sings feel-good music that almost everyone enjoys. Sigh. I can only take comfort in the hopes that Chris will be picked up by some monster record label and I will hear his gorgeous voice on the radio soon. American Idol won't be the same without him. It's kind of like when your hockey team gets knocked out of the playoffs. After that, who cares, right?

Well, at least I still have two glorious episodes of Survivor to savor. Tonight, and then the finale on Sunday. What better way to spend Mothers day than watching reality TV?

In case it isn't clear, I am a reality TV addict. I can't help it, I just get sucked right in! I'm almost relieved when a show ends so I can be freed up to live some of my own reality. Then another begins, and I'm right back with my ass planted on the couch. I play ball on Mondays and Wednesdays, so last night I had to tape "The Amazing Race" while my sister taped "America's Top Model" for me. Do you see the lengths I will go to avoid missing an episode? It's sick!

Anyway, it's a bit of a slow day at work today. I just did a hair cut, an later I have a color to do. Did I mention there are 7 hours between the two? I had a couple more between, but they both called and rescheduled. So I have about 6 hours to kill now. What to do, what to do? I think I have some lounging to catch up on.

My computer is very sick. It's got viruses up the ying yang! So now I'm counting on my teenaged daughter and her computer whiz friend to fix it. I'd love to find out who has so much time on there hands, that they must amuse themselves by creating these devistating problems for others. How annoying that some pencil-neck, zit-faced teenager is using his powers of nerdiness for evil, and not good! I'd love to get my hands on these evil geniuses and snap them like geeky little twigs! Are ya with me? I am such a computer idiot, I'm an easy target. I mean, I had trouble setting up by blog, for God's sake! Now my computer resets itself every twenty seconds or something. That's not enough time to blog! So here I sit between clients at work, just trying to vent some of the bitterness. Ohhhhh, and I'm bitter. Make no mistake.

Isn't this a cute picture? I spliced two pics of Frisky together for the month of May in my Dad's calendar. He makes a beautiful bride, don't you agree?

The weather reports keep saying that today will be hot and sunny, but the skies are grey-white and overcast. Of course I'm walking around in flip-flops trying to will Summer to come. The fence around my tiny townhouse back yard is finally being replaced. I've lived there for 6 years and it's been looking pretty unstable since I've moved in.

Gone are the days I could sit on my balcony and watch the muscular shirtless men build the fence. Now I feel like I could go to jail for watching them. I want to say, "Shouldn't you be in school, young man?" or, "Weren't you in my daughter's math class last year?"

It'll be so nice to be able to let Frisky out in the back yard without him slipping through the missing boards into the neighbors yard. He likes to do this when they're bbqing. I know if he could talk he'd wander over an say, "Smells good! What's for eats?"

It might also help prevent the neighbors 3 cats from leaving me "gifts" all the time. I'm not sure whether I preferred the decapitated mice, or last week's little dead birdie.

Anyway, just felt like rambling. Gotta go back to work now. Peoples' hair isn't gonna do itself, y'know!

When Alicia was a toddler we lived with my mom and dad. One rainy night, and there are alot in the Vancouver area, I had a terrible cold, but had to run out and return a movie I had rented. Sniffling, hacking and miserable, I threw a sweatshirt on, hopped in the car, and went on my way. When I reached the video store I decided to leave my car running so it would be toasty-warm for my return. When I got back to my car, I could only stand outside in the cold rain staring helplessly through the window at my keys dangling from the ignition.

It just so happened that the gas station next door was owned by the father of a childhood schoolmate, and he was more than happy to help. Sadly, my car had the kind of lock that made it almost impossible to break into. By this time, I was soaked to the skin and my good nature was being put to the test. The pimply faced prepubescent geek who worked in the store was very reluctant to allow me the use of the telephone while my car was quickly running out of gas. Just as I was about to go on a shooting spree, the gas station guy was there swinging my keys in front of my face! What a relief! He had gotten in! After many heartfelt thanks, I was on my way back to my warm, dry bed.

A few days later, when I was feeling better, I decided that I would show my gratitude to the gas station guy, with some home-made cookies. I happily added ingredients, mixed and baked until I produced a few yummy batches of oatmeal-raisin. Eager to give them to him while they were still warm, I drove to the gas station and gave him my gift of thanks.

Feeling all good about myself, I drove back home and rewarded myself with a couple of the cookies I had made. As I was munching, I noticed several tiny black specks in one of them. At closer examination, (oatmeal often has little dark pieces) I noticed that every black speck had 3 little black legs sticking out of each side. OHMYGOD! I panicked, as I looked closely at the batch of cookies and then at the bag of oatmeal. Suddenly I didn't feel so good again, but this time it wasn't a virus. It was dread.

Now I'm not proud of this, but I never saw gas station guy again. I don't know if he and his family gobbled down the cookies without noticing, noticed before they ate any, or God forbid noticed after they ate some, like I did.

The lesson here: I have no idea, but I've never looked at oatmeal-cookies quite the same.

When I was a little girl I had a horrible nightmare. It scared me so badly, I couldn't sleep in my room anymore, so I camped out on the floor in the living room.
One night, my brother had come upstairs to get something from the kitchen just as I was beginning to feel the onset of the one and only panic attack of my life. At the time, of course, I didn't know what was happening to me, but I thought I felt my life slipping away from my body. I thought I was about to die right then and there, and I needed my dad. He was the one we called in emergencies. He would take care of me.
Anybody out there who has an older brother knows that they will take any opportunity to torment a younger sibling, so when I said in my weakened state, "Mike...Get dad!" He responded in a taunting voice with, "Whyyyyyyyy?"
"Mike! Just get dad!" I said with urgency as my anxiety increased.
"Whyyyyyyyyyyy?" he teased.
"Just get him!" I yelled frantically, starting to cry.
I guess he got the message, because he ran downstairs and in a moment my father came up. He gently brought me into the bathroom where he ran cool water over my wrists and placed a cool face cloth on the back of my neck. I immediately began to feel myself again in the light of the bathroom with my dad calmly talking to me.

A few days later, I was loitering in our upstairs hallway, when I heard my brother's voice, shakily call my name from the bathroom. "Sharon...Get DAD!" he said in a pained voice.
"Whyyyyyyyyy?" I taunted as the sweet feeling of vengeful satisfaction washed over me.
"Get him, now!" he yelled through the door, as the chilling realization of the situation set in.
"Whyyyyyyyyy?" I teased, savoring the moment.
"Just get him!" He growled through the bathroom door.
Not wanting to push my luck, I ran to get my dad to save my brother from whatever emergency he needed rescuing from.

I could hear them talking with the echo of the bathroom and their lowered tones muffling their voices. Mikes words were frightened whimpers and Dad's had stifled laughter behind his. Then I heard my dad say, "one...two...three!" and in a few minutes they emerged from the washroom.

I think my dear brother learned a couple of lessons that day. One, to handle his sister's emotions with a little more delicacy, and the other, to handle his zipper with a little more precision. Both equally valuable learning experiences if you ask me.