Snow Day (sort of)!

So I woke up this morning with the Peanut and gasp! It was snowing. Y'all that live here on the Island know it only does this a couple of times a year and this was the first of the season. I was so excited thinking I would take the Peanut out in the snow and...what exactly? He can't walk yet, heck, he can't even crawl. Snow is cold and he cries when he's cold. Hmm, maybe not as exciting as I thought. Still, it seemed a shame to stay inside on the first snow day of the year...
So after the Peanut's morning nap, I gamely spent ten minutes dressing him in his booties, mitts (with no thumb!), and a coat that's really too big, but it has cute little ear thingies on the hood. Then I put on my own coat and scarf, grabbed a warm blanky and headed out. Got the little guy all settled in the stroller for a Winter Wonderland walk. Got outside and, holy crap it's cold out! The wind was positively biting! I used to live in Edmonton; when did I become such a wuss? Walked about 100 feet from the driveway and was ready to go right back inside. Still it seemed a shame to get all dressed up and not go for a small walk...
Walked the Peanut around the block, with the wind blasting my cheeks. Peanut seemed content enough, though. Got back to the driveway and decided to go to the mall, since it would kill some time and it would be so much warmer. Maybe I could even cross some people off my Christmas list.
On the way to the mall, literally a five-minute drive away, realized I had made a HUGE mistake: I left the Peanut's favorite car-toy at home. It's this Winnie-the-Pooh fabric storybook with only three pages but they have cellophane in the middle and it crinkles. The Peanut loves making that thing crinkle. He starts fussing, but I think that maybe he'll be okay when we get to the mall because he loves people-watching, too. And it would be a shame to go back home...
Realized at the mall that it's a Saturday and it's Christmas shopping season, but I guess the weather kept other people at home because I landed one of those parking spaces just for mothers with small children, and they're ALWAYS taken. Saw this as a good sign, and actually for a Saturday afternoon during Christmas shopping season the mall was not too crowded.
The shopping itself was mostly uneventful; I bought some stocking stuffers and priced out some other stuff. I also bought the Peanut a new toy that crinkles. Then I realized, with 23 more shopping days until Christmas, that every time Iwent Christmas shopping I bought something for the Peanut. If this keeps up, the Peanut is going to be spoiled rotten this Christmas, and he won't even care since he's only six months old. But I just can't help myself; I keep finding cool toys and cute clothes and oh my god I'm gonna be flat broke very, very soon.
At least I have something else to keep me busy for a while: I'm getting a new kitty cat tomorrow! I picked him out from the municipal pound on Thursday, but they have a 96-hour wait period. He's black with white "boots" and he's about 1 1/2 years old, neutered, and seems really mellow. I'll be sure to post how he gets on with the Sati-cat soon.
P.S. I thought about it and calling my little guy the Boss just doesn't sound right. He's just not that demanding (yet). So, I've decided to call him the Peanut, since I've called him that since he was a 10-week old fetus. Even though it was kinda ruined for me when I watched the movie "Just Friends" where Ryan Reynolds' character is called Peanut by his mother and he's in his early 20's. Gawd, I hope I don't become like that...

Back and better than ever (?!)

So for those astute reader(s) out there, I've changed my name. It kinda reflects the change in my life. I hope that I will post more often if I'm a mommy blog than a work blog, especially since I'm still on mat leave.
Ian, aka the Boss, is actually asleep. I've been trying this new thing with him (how many times have I said that?) where I start putting him to bed before 9 pm and he has a meltdown. I've started a bedtime routine with that Bedtime Bath stuff and it seems to be working. I totally thought it was a marketing ploy by Johnson & Johnson, but the last two evenings I've actually had some time to myself. I'm still watching all my prime time TV at 5pm (gotta love digital TV), but maybe by the time there's a new "Grey's Anatomy" I'll be able to watch it at 9pm like a grown-up (without kids).
I have to give some props out to Rebecca Eckler, a Canadian author and mommy blogger for inspiring me to change my focus. She's written a couple of books (that I know of) and there's a link to her blog on this page. I admire her honesty and appreciate the laugh-out-loud moments she's written about. Even though my experience as a mommy so far has been different in many ways, I can relate to a lot of what's she's written about. Like calling her daughter The Dictator. I prefer to call Ian the Boss, not because he resembles Bruce Springstein but because it's gentler than a dictator. He seems to request, rather than demand; of course that may be because he's not talking yet. In any case the Boss he is.
I took the Boss out Christmas shopping today. Completely different experience than going it alone. Everywhere I looked I saw something to buy him. Like he'll really care if I get him every Fisher-Price age-appropriate toy on the shelf. Last week, I bought him a set of plastic blocks and a bin with a lid that has the same shape as the blocks, so he can learn shapes. I swear, he spent more time playing with the box it came in. Hmm, maybe I'll put the blocks back in the box and re-wrap it for Christmas. He won't remember them by then...
I even looked forward to when I would be able to actually get the older toys. For example, I never in my life owned Candyland, but I thought about the day I would get to play it with the Boss. I don't even know the rules for Candyland. And don't get me started about how much fun it'll be when he finally has the manual dexterity for video games. If I had my way, his first word would be "Mama" of course, followed by "Mario" or "Link."
All in all, I showed considerable restraint. I only bought him one toy. But there's still 24 more days to go. I'm not making any promises that I won't go overboard.

Goodbye, My Friend

This is a picture of my kitty, Asia, the evening before I took her to the vet for the last time. Her cancer got worse, and I realized that I would be doing her a better favour by letting her go peacefully rather than keeping her alive. Asia died the way I think she would have wanted, in my arms, purring until the very end.
It's strange to look outside on the deck and not see her sleeping on the rail. I still expect to see her come into the kitchen when I'm making my coffee. But now I can talk about her without wanting to cry, and I remember all of the good times we had.

My kitty has cancer

Well, I'm sad to report that my 14-year old cat, Asia, has cancer. It all started a few weeks ago when she started to smell bad. I thought maybe she wasn't cleaning herself properly because she's old, and I was distracted with caring for my baby. She steadily smelled worse and worse, until you could smell her from about 5 feet away. Reluctantly, I called the vet(reluctant because I knew it would cost at least $200 just to bring her in). In the two days between making the appointment and bringing Asia in, she stopped smelling bad. Just like that. Still, I thought the vet should see her. I was thinking maybe she had a tooth infection that was resolving on its own.
Well, one week, two visits, and nearly $800 later, I have confirmation that it is not just an infection. And there is not really anything I can do besides keep her comfortable. So, she'll be getting Fentanyl patches(too bad I can't steal those from work!), and as long as she seems to be coping, we'll keep her at home.
I know that some of you will think this is horrible, but I'm a bit releived that it's not a tooth infection. Yes, that would have been treatable, but it would have cost another $500-900 to treat, and we simply don't have the money. I'm already facing the possibility that I will have to return to work early, which also makes me sad because I love being home with my baby. If we had to come up with the money to treat Asia, I would probably have to return to work even earlier.
On the other hand, I am sad that I'm facing the loss of my Asia, who has been with me for over 11 years, through 6 years of university, 9 houses, and 2 provinces. She was my baby long before Ian, and I will miss her greatly when she's gone.

I'm back and other matters

Okay, so I haven't posted all summer and it's September(already?) and I'm officially a bad girl. It's been a busy summer; my sister came to visit and she didn't post anything either...
So Baby Ian's almost four months old now and is a totally normal baby. He's still a bit small for his age, but to me he's huge(and heavy!). And so far I've been lucky because all the comments I've received in public have been positive; for example, "What a cutie!", "What beautiful blue eyes!", etc. I've even had a elderly couple approach while I was breastfeeding in a mall. But today, while in line at the Tim's, this woman walked by and muttered just loudly enough for me to hear, "No hat, no nuthin". I was too stunned to say anything before she left, but I think I gave her a dirty look. She was probably forty, but she looked older, and definitely not attractive, in my oh-so-biased opinion. And it was cloudy and spitting outside, but it was certainly not very cold. And Ian did have a warm fuzzy blanket on his lap.
So on the drive home, I'm fuming, just a bit. And feeling a bit guilty. Should I have put a hat on Ian? And how dare she judge me, the old cow! I know I shouldn't let her ignorant comment get to me, but it does. Just a bit. So I thought I'd share it, and get it out of my system.

Another first

So I breastfed Ian for the first time in public yesterday. I must say it was a bit of a humbling experience. I am not a shy person (or a very modest one) by any stretch of the imagination, but I was surprised to find that I was nervous about peeling off my top in a restaurant. Before I had Ian, I had always said that I would have no problem breastfeeding in public, and I have to admit to being a bit judgmental about those that were shy. But, like many things, it's completely different in reality. I wasn't concerned so much about exposing myself, but I was a bit worried that someone would say something negative. I had a receiving blanket to cover up, and I kept checking to make sure it was in place. Of course it was a bit of a juggle to get Ian latched while keeping the blanket in place, and then to hold him up without a pillow. I ended up propping him against the table! Ian, bless his soul, was completely unaware that anything different was going on, and ate his lunch like a pro.
I'm sure it's one of those things that will get easier with time. I bet after a couple more outings, I'll just whip those puppies out whenever Ian get hungry. But now that I've experienced public breastfeeding, I will definitely be more sympathetic when another mother expresses concern about it.

My New Arrival

I would like to announce the new arrival of my son (how weird to say that!),Ian Alan Overall, born May 27, 2007 at 11:17 am. Weight 2385 g (5 lb, 4 oz.). It's hard to believe that I've been home from the hospital for more than a week, and Ian's almost two weeks old. I promise to post his birth story soon (just a warning, though, it's a long story). In the meantime, let me say that we are both doing very well. Ian is breastfeeding like a pro and is quickly catching up in weight, which is a huge relief since he was born so small, and at his check-up and weigh-in last Monday, he had only gained a very modest 15 g, since we were discharged from the hospital the previous Thursday.
Since we got home, Ian took to breastfeeding like a fish to water, so I didn't supplement with formula like I was told (anyone who knows me knows my general feelings about formula; in short, I hate it). He slept well, woke up on his own every 2-3 hours, and had a wet and/or dirty diaper when I changed it after every feeding. Those first days home we settled into a routine: feed, diaper change, sleep, repeat. It wan't exciting, but we had more than enough excitement for a long time. Best of all, I got to hold Ian all the time, and I felt like I was getting the hang of this parenting thing.
When we went to the doctor's that Monday, I was sure he would have put on weight. When he put on such a small amount of weight, I was disappointed, but more than that, I thought I was failing as a mother. I have never felt so incompetent in my life, not even when nursing school was at its worst. The words "failure to thrive" were like an invisible neon sign in front of me, and I had visions of Ian being taken back to the special care nursery and hooked up to IV's and feeding tubes. I know it sounds overdramatic, but I cannot describe the devastation I felt. Compounding it was the fact that the doctor told me to only breastfeed for 10 minutes at at time because it was too tiring for him, and to supplement the rest of the feed with either formula or expressed breastmilk. I left the office in tears, and spent most of the rest of that afternoon crying. I didn't want to have to breastfeed and pump, bacause it was time-consuming and physically exhausting, but I refused to give Ian formula. So, with a feeling of resignation, I rented a breastpump, and started pumping after each feed during the day. I still fed Ian on the breast as long as he wanted, though. I did a bunch of Internet research and found nothing to indicate that breastfeeding was more tiring than botttlefeeding. In fact, the La Leche League site stated that bottlefeeding was more stressful.
The next day, I did more of the same. I talked to my mom, who was wonderfully indignant about what the doctor said, and, more importantly, told me I was doing a good job. I really needed to hear some words of encouragement. John, of course told me I was an excellent mother, but it was good to hear it from someone else. By Wednesday afternoon, when the public health nursse came to visit, I was shaking. She brought a scale with her, so I could see if Ian had put on any weight. Imagine my surprise and delight that he put on 85 g! The expected weight gain for a normal newborn is 15 to 30 g per day, so this was more than I could have hoped for; I actually did a happy dance! It also really made me feel that my decision to breastfeed was the right one. Finally, I could trust my own judgment again.
Today I went to the doctor's and Ian's put on another 55 g. I didn't tell the doctor that I haven't pumped since Wednesday and Ian breastfeeds as long as he wants; that's my little secret. I have another appointment next week; I expect Ian will continue to thrive and grow. In the meantime, I'll continue to enjoy every minute with my little angel. And I'll trust in my own ability to do what's right for myself and my family.

My Tarot Card

My sister had a link on her blog, so I thought I would find out which tarot card it would pick for me. Here is the result:

You are The High Priestess

Science, Wisdom, Knowledge, Education.

The High Priestess is the card of knowledge, instinctual, supernatural, secret knowledge. She holds scrolls of arcane information that she might, or might not reveal to you. The moon crown on her head as well as the crescent by her foot indicates her willingness to illuminate what you otherwise might not see, reveal the secrets you need to know. The High Priestess is also associated with the moon however and can also indicate change or fluxuation, particularily when it comes to your moods.

What Tarot Card are You?
Take the Test to Find Out.

It's interesting that I am the High Priestess, since it is one of my favorite cards. However, I always found the High Priestess to be more otherworldly than I usually am.
If anyone out there follows the link above, let me know which card you are.

Entering the Home Stretch

With only four weeks to go until the "official" big day (in quotation marks because nobody ever has their baby on their due date), I thought I'd put up my list of the top five questions I've been asked about my pregancy. Here they are, in order of frequency:
1. When are you due? June 15
2. What are you having? A baby, I hope. I don't know the gender yet.
3. Are you going to breastfeed? Yes; in fact, I plan to exclusively breast-feed for the first six months, and then for as long as the baby wants. If you're a complete stranger (and yes, they have asked), it's none of your damn business.
4. Do you have any "weird cravings?" I eat a lot of ice cream, which I didn't eat very often before I got pregnant. Otherwise, no. BTW, I have yet to meet a woman who really ate pickles and ice cream during her pregnancy.
5. Do you feel any different? If you were carrying 20+ pounds, in a basketball-shaped lump on your abdomen, wouldn't you?
Funny that not many seem to ask about stuff like what's the worst pregnancy symptom you've had (heartburn, by far), or what was your favorite part of pregnancy (when I first felt the baby move). But just a few short weeks, I'll probably be able to post a list of top five questions I've been asked after the baby. Keep reading.

Bad Reality TV Night

SPOILER ALERT!
Okay, so I have a small (unnatural) addiction to reality TV, specifically "American Idol" and "America's Next Top Model." And tonight was a disappointing night for me.
Firstly was "Top Model." My favorite of the top three was Renee. Natasha seemed just weird (and did anyone else notice the tummy action going on? Methinks she stress-eats.), and Joslene was just this side of obnoxious. Renee by far had the best Cover Girl picture and ad. So why did she not make the top two? Because she looked too "old". Whatever.
Next was "Idol." I was absolutely convinced that Melinda was a shoo-in for the semifinals. In fact, I was positive that she would win (along with the rest of the world, I thought). Yet, she goes home tonight. The only reason I can think of is that she suffered from what I call the "too-good syndrome." It seems that every season, one of the best singers goes home way before their time. Last year it was Chris Daughtry (4th place), and the year before it was Bo Bice (2nd place). My theory is that the voters are so convinced that the frontrunner will move on that they don't vote for them, assuming that others will. It's the same idea that nobody will call the fire department when they see a fire, assuming that "someone else" will do it. Voters were so worried that Blake or Jordin would get the axe that they voted Melinda off.
So, this wasn't the best night for my shows. But I guess if the shows were always predictable they wouldn't be nearly as fun. It'll be interesting to see who wins "Idol" next week, because it's now anyone's game.

On Mat Leave, Baby!

So I'm off on maternity leave, and I'm lovin' it. In fact, the first thought I had when I woke up yesterday was "I don't have to work today!" I haven't done anything really exciting since I went off, but a bad day on leave is better than a good day at work, right?
The one task I did tackle was washing all the baby's clothes. It sounds silly, but the new clothes just looked so pretty, it seemed a shame to take the tags off and wash them. I was finally motivated to get them done though, when my step-daughter gave me a bunch of used baby clothes that NEEDED to be washed first. The first lesson of baby clothes: terry cloth sleepers look old fast. Thankfully, I didn't have very many, mostly because I think putting terry cloth on a baby in June is probably bordering on child abuse.
Anyway, I have a small tale of woe to share about my clothes-washing experience. One of the shirts I bought was just the cutest lil' shirt in the world. It's pale blue-grey and it's kimono style, with a snap on the inside to wrap and two at the bottom of the shirt. It also has an adorable ribbon to tie it up. I just couldn't wait to dress up my little one in this shirt. Then, just as I cut off the tags, I noticed one of them cautioned to check the snaps. I did a quick once over, thinking it's brand new, so the snaps are probably fine. So, imagine my disappointment to find that the fabric around one of the bottom snaps was torn! At best, I would maybe get the snap done up and apart a couple of times before it completely fell off.
I put the shirt aside with the tag, and thought that I would go exchange it at the store later this week. I was pretty sure I even had the receipt; in fact, I thought I should get the receipt ready for when I return it. I rummaged through my shoe box full of receipts, and found the right one. Oh, but what was printed at the bottom of the receipt? No exchanges after 30 days. I bought the shirt with a bunch of other stuff way back in February. Thus the second lesson of baby clothes: don't wait too long to wash the new stuff.
So, I kept the shirt, reasoning to myself that I can just leave that corner unsnapped, and the baby will probably outgrow it before the snap comes off anyway. But, even though it probably sounds silly, the shirt wasn't the same. It wasn't as special; and the whole thing put a bit of a damper on all the fun of playing with the new clothes. But at least it happened before I put the shirt on the baby, because knowing my hormones I probably would have cried.
Anyway, I finished washing the clothes and blankets with no further incident. And I can't wait to dress up my little one in all that cute stuff. My baby is gonna be better-dressed than me!

My Quest for the Holy Drawer Pulls

For the past week I have been a pregnant girl on a mission: to buy new drawer pulls for the baby's dresser. I spent an entire afternoon scrubbing the dresser, getting literally years of grunge off of it. Then I sprayed orange oil wood cleanser on it to make it all pretty and shiny. But the one eyesore was that the middle drawer had four holes for drawer knobs but only two mismatched knobs on it.
It was easy to find pretty knobs for the middle drawer. I bought two really cute knobs with jumping sheep on them, and a couple of brushed nickel knobs for the other two spaces. I knew they would look fantastic, but the nickel knobs didn't match the other drawer pulls, which were brass. They were also tarnished and tacky, so I got new pulls that matched the knobs to replace them. Now, when I went to the hardware store, the most popular spacing between the holes that screw into the dresser is 3" apart; in fact, there were only a couple of pulls in a different size. I (mistakenly) concluded that the dresser at home must have the same spacing. You see, I wasn't planning on buying new pulls, so I didn't measure the spacing. Besides, if they didn't fit, I could bring them back.
Well, they didn't fit. At least I was smart enough to hold the pull up against the screws on the inside of the drawer before I opened the package, so I could return the pulls. I measured the distance between the holes this time, and it looked like they were about 5" apart. It was too late to return to the hardware store that day, so the following day I returned to the hardware store. This store had a couple of pulls that were 4" apart, and a few 3-3/4" apart but no 5" guys, so I just took them back. I waited until my next set of days off to go to another hardware store, since it's not in the neighbourhood.
So yesterday, I went to the other hardware store and, although they had a pretty small selection of 5" pulls to choose from, they did have a nice set that matched the knobs. I happily took them home only to find they didn't fit either! I re-measured the distance, apparently more carefully this time, and the distance between the screws was 4-1/4". ARRRGGGGGHHH!
Suddenly, I remembered that my own dresser needs new pulls as well; one's bent and one's broken in half. Maybe the new ones would fit my dresser instead, and I could put the knobs from my dresser on the baby's dresser, since they matched. So I went into my room and measured the holes from the pulls against the screws inside the drawer. They didn't match perfectly but they were really close. Maybe I could manipulate the screws to make it fit. So I opened one of the packages and gave it a try. No dice, and now I couldn't return one of the pulls. I measured one of the drawers to see if I could return the other three and buy the right size. The distance was 4-5/8". What the hell was up with these spaces!?! Goddamn antique dressers!
So, the new plan is to use the pulls I bought, but to drill a new hole in each drawer so they will fit. The pulls should cover up the old holes and I figure I will never find ones that fit such oddball spacing anyway. Besides, there is nothing sexier than a pregnant girl with power tools! I should dress up and take photos.

Maternity Scrubs

I went shopping for maternity scrubs yesterday. My "fat" scrubs are becoming too tight, and I will probably only get another week or two out of them, at best. To my knowledge, there are really only three places to get scrubs in my town, and the only place I figured would even have maternity scrubs was the most expensive place. So I went there.

I have only one word to describe what uniform companies call maternity scrub pants: hideous. There were exactly two styles of pant to choose from. The first pair had buttons on the side that you adjust for your belly. Even on the snuggest setting for my belly, the pants ballooned out from the waistband, and the crotch of the pants ended about halfway down my thighs. They then proceeded into a tapered leg through which I just barely fit my foot. To add insult to injury, they were about two inches too long, so the pants bunched up around the tapered leg. The second pair was the same, except it actually had an elastic panel at the waist that I could have easily pulled up to my breasts. Basically, I looked kind of like a Teletubby in a polyester/cotton blend.

My next strategy was to simply buy bigger versions of the scrubs I normally wear. The expensive store wanted $50 each set, which is highway robbery as far as I'm concerned (who wants to pay 50 bucks for something relative strangers are going to vomit and/or poop on?). So, I moved on to the next store. Their scrubs weren't much cheaper ($18 each piece), but I figured I could buy just the pants and wear a t-shirt and jacket on top. They even had flare leg scrubs! The teensy-tiny problem: the medium-sized pants just fit now, so they won't soon. And of course, the large pants fit the waist, but are way too big everywhere else. I swear, it was almost enough to justify going on maternity leave early.

So, two stores, no scrubs. Today I'm going to the last store in the hopes that they will have some pants that fit. If not, you can just call me Po.

Nesting

When I got home from work last night, I found out that my step-daughter is moving out this weekend! She found a nice place not-to-far-away, that was available right away. Don't get me wrong, I will miss having her around; but I must confess that my thoughts almost immediately turned to how I will decorate the baby's new room. After all, I only have four months left.

It's funny how this kind of stuff turns out because yeserday at work, I was talking about how I haven't bought baby furniture yet because there's nowhere to put it. I also mentioned that I hoped my step-daughter would be able to find a place by the spring. So imagine my surprise when I got home to find I can nest!

I had trouble falling asleep last night because I was busy figuring out where to put the crib we now have room for, as well as the dresser, bookshelf and other furniture. Of course, we'll have to have the carpets cleaned first, and wash the walls down, and scrub the windows...okay so I was getting a bit ahead of myself.

It's one of those things where I smugly thought to myself, "I'll never be one of those nesting pregnant women, who get all obesessed with the cleaning and getting the baby's room ready months ahead of time." Yet here I am, virtually squirming in my seat to get my hands on that room.

The last time my step-daughter wasn't living here, we did little else to the room besides vacuum it for two months. Of course, she still had a lot of her stuff here, too, but I think if I weren't pregnant, we would probably just leave that room for a while. That, or my husband would convert it into a storage room.

But now of course, visioins of baby bedding is dancing in my head. And I thought nobody else would notice, but my husband actually said last night, "now you can start nesting, honey." And my step-daughter said the same thing this morning. Well, except for calling me honey.

So, in the next few weeks, if you're wondering what I'm doing, I'll be in the baby's room, nesting. Those who have been there will understand, and those who have not don't laugh too hard because it'll happen to you.

I HATE BCSLSB!!!!!!

So I have to rant about the British Columbia Student Loan Service Bureau (BCSLSB) because I absolutely hate to have to deal with them. My first rant is about my address. They NEVER have my correct address no matter how many times I change it. The most recent address is no exception. I know I changed my address online when I moved a year and a half ago, on the phone last January, by mail last October when I put in an extra payment (more about that in a minute), and on the phone again today. I also changed it online. You're supposed to wait 24 hours for the changes to show up. What are the chances my current address will appear when I check it tomorrow? Not good. It's so frustrating, especially since I need the statements to know how much of my payments go to interest in order to write off the interest on my taxes. Interestingly enough, they have my new last name...
The second rant is about the extra payment in October. My husband and I re-financed our mortgage and got some extra money, so I put a significant amount on my BC student loan (I must admit it was mostly to pay them earlier so I wouldn't have to deal with them anymore). In the accopanying letter, which had my new address on it, I specifically told them to apply the entire amount to the principal; in fact, I think I put it in boldface. Lo and behold, when I look at my payment history, the bastards put about 60 bucks of the money towards interest. I know that compared with the amount I paid it's not much, but I specifically told them not to do that. Are the administrators there able to read? I tried not to use any big words...
I have other rants, like about when you call them, you can't always understand the person on the phone (I'm pretty sure that their call centre is located in India), and the times they took money out of my bank account without telling me, but I don't want to alienate my few readers. I just want to warn those who have BC loans, or are going to get them: if you have to change your address, do it online, check it, and if they don't have it right, do it again. Repeat as needed.
I can't wait to pay these bastards off; the sooner the better.

It's Peanut Butter Jelly Time!

So one of my co-workers told me about this weird Internet video, featuring a dancing banana. The graphics are ridiculously pixelated (think Introduction to Computer Programming 101), and it's pretty stupid when you think about it, but when you see it, it's pretty funny. The link follows:

http://www.albinoblacksheep.com/flash/banana.php
Just a warning though, it'll be stuck in your head for DAYS.
Apparently this video is so popular that a recent "Family Guy" episode featured Brian doing the dance for Peter. I can't post a link but it's on You Tube if you're interested.

You know, this reminds me of the dancing baby from the "Ally McBeal" days. The baby was funny-looking but watching it always made me smile. I still have the file on my computer, but it won't load onto my blog. Once again, You Tube, the mecca of bizarre video, has it.