Spoooooky Dragon Puppy ! Look at the expression on his little face. Ha ha! "Why are you torturing me?" He's such a good little dog.

Halloween has never been my favorite thing. There are aspects that I love and aspects that I hate. I have to admit, when Alicia asked one year if we could have Ernie and Bert pumpkins, I didn't think we could pull it off, but they turned out pretty good! When Alicia was small, trick-or-treating was great. She was so cute, and I knew that the number of times I would be able to take her out would be limited. However, it is usually freezing cold and raining, so we had to come up with costume ideas that she could wear a winter coat underneath. Then while she and her little friends were keeping warm running from door to door, I was trying to maintain feeling in my limbs. I have always loved putting together fun costumes for Alicia. We never went halfway, y'know. If I was gonna put in the time and effort, I was gonna come up with something great. Most of the costumes were even appropriate to wear to school...Except the one. After years of dressing her up as bunny rabbits, puppy dogs, and kitty cats, Alicia went through a phase where she wanted to be dracula and other scary stuff. I think she was in grade 7 when she decided to be a suicide victim. I wish I could find the picture, but I can't. I ran a wire through some rope and made a noose. When she put her head through it the remaining end stood straight up as though it was attached to something overhead. Then I painted her face to make it look like she's been dead for a couple of weeks, and pinned a suicide note to her sweater. It was so sweet! Sadly the principal of the school called her into the office and made her take it off. She said it was inappropriate. Why does that word keep coming up with me Anyway, I went to a party this year dressed as a disco diva. Drew was my afro wearing disco man, and our friends did the same. It was pretty funny. These are my friends Dilek and Daveen, and the next one is Drew and I. Don't ya just love his Saturday night fever ensamble? Here's Drew and Dilek's hubby, John, yucking it up. LOL! Anyhoo, I guess I'll get on with my day now. Hope you all had a happy Halloween!

The Many Shades of Alicia



This is my beautiful daughter, Alicia, who just turned 16 yesterday. I love her adventurous spirit. These pictures are of grades 8 through 11 and, as you can clearly see, she takes full advantage of having a hairdresser for a mom.

I just hooked up the new scanner that Drew and I gave her for her Birthday, which is why I am able to post these pictures. Oh yeah, I'm gonna get a lot of use out of this puppy. She also got a load of cash, some clothes, some really cool art stuff, and a stereo for her room. I still haven't planned a party for her and her friends. Usually I'm a little more on the ball and throw a great party at home, but I gotta tell ya, these kids aren't getting any smaller! The boys are freakishly big, but they are still young and sometimes get carried away. Stuff gets broken! So this year I'm going to rent a space called "The Fridge." Basically, it's a big room with ping pong, pool, foozeball, a big screen TV, video games, and other stuff to entertain them. Unfortunately, I'm not sure when it will be available. Still gotta phone and find out. Anyway, I'd better go make some dinner.

My sense of humor has sometimes been viewed as over the proverbial "line." I think I have that same impulse control mechanism malfunction that Sophia from The Golden Girls had. I think I've just always appreciated a good funny, even if it is a little inappropriate. (Especially if it's a little inappropriate)

When I was in Junior high, I think grade 9, a bunch of us were hanging out outside the school smoking and being "cool." I really can't remember why the vice principal, Mr. Scar, called me aside to lecture me on my sense of humor being inappropriate, but I'm sure he had good reason. After the "good firm talking to," he walked with me back toward my friends and, with one hand on his hip, began to address the crowd. "Okay, people! The school day is over. Let's go home!" So I, being the witty, charming, teen-aged idiot that I was, linked my arm through his, strutted beside him, and said, "Okay, Scar, let's go home!"

Mr. Scar shook me off his arm, his face instantly beet red. "That's exactly what I was talking about with inappropriate humor!" he barked, exasperated.

I can't blame the guy. I mean, hello, talk about displaying zero regard for a member of the administration, especially while he's asserting himself to a group of teen-agers. Somehow, however obvious that may seem to me now and about a tenth of a second after saying it, I still blurted it out! I didn't even call him "Mr. Scar." It was just "Scar." That's just disrespectful!

Poor bastard.

So, as I mentioned in a previous post, my parents are taking Alicia to Mexico in December. We all know that applying for a passport can be a time consuming affair. They really make you jump through hoops, what with the pictures, the guarantor, and all the documentation. I'm surprised they don't take a swab from your cheek to make sure you are, in fact, the child's mother. There is a certain satisfaction that comes with the completion of some errands. I went to the passport office last week, and after waiting only about half an hour, approached the cubicle only to find out that one of my documents was incorrect. What I thought was Alicia's father's original death certificate, which I drove all the way into Vancouver to borrow from his parents, turned out to be a copy. So I left the passport office, went home, and got on the horn to Vital Stats to order an original. Sigh. The document came in about a week, so it wasn't too bad of a wait. Every day counts, though, because for one, my Dad won't be able to stop asking me about it until he has it in his hot little hands, and for another, you just never know when some complication will extend the process. Best to get it done in a timely manner, so off I went, bright and early this morning, to get the job done. I got there before it opened, at 8:30 and there was already a line-up. Once they opened, we all filed in and took a number. I was lucky number 11. Can you believe I was walking back to my car by 9:30? It was painless! Anyway, now I just have to sit back and wait for it to arrive in the mail. Oh and I also have to write a letter authorizing my parents to travel with her, and make an appointment with a notary public to have the letter notarized. PHEW! It's good that the process protects children from being smuggled out of the country. It's just a pain in the butt.

This is a very naughty post indeed.

A few years ago, I was at one of our annual baseball icebreaker parties. I don't know why, but they scheduled the party on the same night as a very important playoff game. I, not being a sports enthusiast, was getting really bored with what was supposed to be a dance, but turned into hockey night in Richmond. All the chairs in the bar were turned toward the various TV's, and a few of my girlfriends and I were getting pretty antsy. It was starting to feel like you couldn't even stand up, for fear of blocking someone's view of the television.

After a couple of hours of what seemed like watching paint dry, one of my friends invited me and a few other chicks out to her van to have a couple of shooters and a change of scenery. We got out to the van and piled in, leaving the side door open for ventilation. The stereo cranked to capacity, and a couple of tequila shooters warming our tummies, the van party was reduced to a frenzy of giggling women acting like teen agers.

After a while, we noticed that, once in a while, a person, a couple, or a group of people would wander by our partymobile on their way to their cars. I don't know who would have started such a thing, but whenever someone walked by, we all began to violently rock the van back and forth, moaning, "ohhh. Oh, yeah! uh,uh,uh! Don't stop! Don't stop!" The reactions to our prank were priceless. The back window being tinted prevented anyone from seeing into the van, but we could see out perfectly fine. One couple shyly exchanged glances, and quickened their pace. One couple just burst out laughing. One group of guys pointed and laughed at one of the members running right up to the back window, cupping his hands around his eyes, and peering in, hoping to get a good look at some naughty behavior. It must have been such a funny sight to see the rocking van, hear the blasting music, and the moans of ecstasy reverberating through the parking lot.

Anyway, it saved our night from certain death-by-boredom, and frankly we served our fellow ball players by giving them some free entertainment on their way out!
Everybody wins.