Whatever Rob has? I have it too. He’s asleep, helped by the power of NyQuill… I can’t take NyQuill and have been up all night. Seriously. Have slept about three hours. Feeling oddly awake and sort of insane. Playing Super Mario Brothers between trips to the bathroom (I suppose I COULD take the GameBoy in there with me… but no) and screaming “Stupid asshole Mario!” intermittently.
Life is great.

Also, still laughing my head off about the Whose Line thing in my last post. Sixteenth viewing? Still funny.

I absolutely love Whose Line is it Anyway?. The British version airs on the Comedy Network here in Canada twice a day everyday; I started watching it back when I was in university and I was hooked. The American version (with Drew Carey hosting) was good too– I’m kind of sad that it was cancelled. I’ve had a crush on Ryan Stiles since first seeing him on the British version pretending to be John Wayne; Wayne Brady’s hilarious, and Colin Mochrie just has no shame

That being said, this has got to be one of the funniest moments in TV history. Well, for me it was. For you, maybe not. But probably.

Do you figure the FCC will fine someone for airing that? I mean– I mean… it’s SCANDALOUS!

You know that your sleep schedule’s out of wack when your phone rings at 1 pm and you grumble about people not having the common sense to phone at a decent time of day.

And again, it’s 1 am and I’m blogging. Hmph. Not great.

Rob is still sick– he had to call in to work today. It’s not great, because if he doesn’t work, he doesn’t get paid, but the guy has a fever and is throwing up; there’s no way he could actually get anything done if he were to go in. Luckily tomorrow and Thursday are his “weekend”– he’ll hopefully have the time to rest up and start feeling better.

Also, today I got to go out for hot chocolate with one of my friends, which was fun and exciting. She hasn’t had power at her house since Saturday but it came back on tonight; good thing, too, because she hasn’t gotten to shower in four days. I would just die.

Oh! And I picked up the hamster cages from the Freecycle person. Turns out she lives one street over from us so it wasn’t a long trip at all.

I thoroughly enjoy Freecycle. So far, since joining, I have acquired:

- a bag of craft supplies (mostly yarn and fabric scraps) for my classroom

- a sewing basket (which I use for my knitting because sewing? Not so much)

and sometime this week I will be picking up two hamster cages and several hamster accessories (I’m imagining a hamster wearing platform boots and earrings).

No, I’m not getting a hamster; Emilio is quite enough for me. However. My niece’s birthday is on December 25th. She’ll be 10 years old and she has, for three years, been asking for a hamster. A seven-year-old is in no way responsible enough for a small pet– my sister is quite aware of the whole “‘pocket pets’ are not throwaway pets” thing (meaning, and rightly so, that just because it’s a small, relatively inexpensive pet doesn’t mean that it’s no big deal to not take care of it and let it die)– so she hasn’t gotten one, or even had the hope of getting one. But my niece is going to be ten, and has shown a great deal of responsibility and maturity over the past year.

The problem being that sure, while buying just a hamster costs only $10 (for the fancy kind that she would prefer), the setup costs (buying a cage, the shavings, food, etc) are pretty high– and my sister has three kids to buy for this Christmas and hasn’t received any child support in quite a long time (remind me to tell you how much I enjoy my soon to be ex-brother-in-law). So thanks to Freecycle, a huge part of the cost is going to be eliminated.

I am Louise, and I (somewhat) approved this (boring) post.

Apparently my page looks all bad (not sure how, anyone wanna elaborate?)– I went around and tried fixing a couple of things I *thought* might be the culprit. Does it look any better now?

Here we go, a meme:

You are 100% Cancer

Our upstairs neighbours are noisy.

No, not noisy as in they walk too loudly or I can hear their toilet flushing or anything like that.

Noisy as in noisy. They RUN around their apartment shrieking and stomping. They bang things on the floor at …. oh, it’s 1:38 a.m. The first time I thought maybe they’d accidentally dropped something (like maybe their TV?). But it went on rhythmically for about 10 minutes… bang. bang. bang.

They hang out their (11th-storey) window, throwing toast and yelling for the birds to come and eat it.

They put their music on– loud enough to be heard through the concrete that our building is made of– and then sing along. Only they don’t know the words.

I don’t know them, personally, but I know them to see them. They’re a young (well, younger than me– I’d say 19 or so) couple of university students. I know for sure that most of the time that they’re making all this noise, is because they’re drunk. Fine. But the thing is that I’m getting really sick of it. It’s been going on for a LONG time (months…)– every Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday night, around 10 pm, they start running around and shrieking. I’m not saying that Rob and I are as quiet as churchmice or anything– but hollering “American Pie” (why is it always American Pie? And why haven’t they learned the words yet? They’ve only been singing it for the past three hours!!!) at the top of your lungs at 1 in the morning is a bit much.

I’ve been sitting here trying to calm down so I could go to sleep (nothing to calm down *from*, I just need a little meditation time I guess) and hearing them stomping and yelling and especially the singing was driving me nuts. So what did I do?

No, I didn’t go upstairs and ask them to be quiet– I fear them, plus I’m in my embarassing pyjamas, the bright yellow flannel ones with the pictures of pyjamas on them. So no, I didn’t do that.

I grabbed the broom and banged on my ceiling with the handle as hard as I could. I took out all my anger and rage on that ceiling. And oh, did that feel good.

And they shut up. Oh, blessed silence.

Now I just have to hurry up and get to sleep before they forget to shut up and start the infernal racket again. G’night, bloggy people!

I knew something strange was going on when Rob went to bed before me last night– it’s a rare occurrence, that’s for sure. Next thing, he was asking me to bring him more blankets.

That’s when I knew he was dying.

No, seriously. He’s the one who always throws off the blankets in the middle of the night, telling me I’m a wuss for being cold. The guy had two duvets and one wool blanket on last night, and was still shivering. DEATH WAS IMMINENT!!!

I climbed into bed with him and cuddled up (at his request– he was freeeeeeeezing, he said) and he was burning up. It was bad. He finally managed to sleep, at around 3 am. At 4 am I got up because it was sweltering hot in the room and I kept throwing all the blankets onto the floor in my sleep. Then he would freeze. And I would feel guilty. So I went to the couch and had a little sleep. 7 am I came back to bed for awhile.

Then we woke up, and although he still felt pretty cruddy, we had to go out grocery shopping. Well. I have lived in Halifax for… 4 years now, almost. It has never snowed, not even a flurry, before December. Ever. Guess what we got today? Snow. So much snow. Plus freezing rain. Then more snow. People were acting like idiots on the road– it took us three hours to do our grocery shopping. Let me point out that the grocery store is usually ten minutes away, and it only took us an hour, tops, to do the actual shopping; we had to drive there, though, and find parking (people forget all about parking spots when it snows– they were just abandoning their cars in the middle of turning lanes. Like it was some kind of goddamn adventure movie. “I’m going to see what’s up ahead! You stay here. If I’m not back in four hours, turn around and go back!”). Shopping was accomplished, though– Pets Unlimited, Wal-Mart, AND Superstore. Mr. Rob was very tricky. We were in one store, finished our shopping, headed out to the car, and he said “Hey wait, I just forgot to buy Coke. Coke is cheaper here. I’ll go in– you go wait in the car”. Which I did. LATER HE TOLD ME THAT HE WAS TRICKING ME AND HE’D ACTUALLY GONE BACK IN TO BUY ME A CHRISTMAS PRESENT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Tricksy hobbit. Also he guessed that I *might* be making him a hat for Christmas, seeing as I keep knitting and then having him try it on. He’s also very clever to have been able to figure that one out.

After all his tricky shenanigans, we had to make our way home– and the weather was worse. Poor Rob was stuck scraping off the car even though he was sick, because he owns winter boots and I don’t. Cars were sliding around, people weren’t staying in their lanes, it was ridiculous. Plus it was dark out by then (it was 5:00! Of course it was dark! Stupid fargin winter) and pedestrians thought that it would be great to just jump out into the roads. Bedlam. Crazy.

We finally made it through the 9 inches of slush on the roads. Turned into our parking lot and noticed something quite bizarre– there was not a light on anywhere in our building… wait, there wasn’t a light on anywhere on our street. Damn. The power was out. The power being out means that there is no elevator service in our building (remind me to tell you about the time the power went out when I was in the elevator, and it stopped between floors, and I had to climb out like MacGuyver. Oh wait, I just did tell you). Now, we had about $130 worth of groceries in the car which we really didn’t want to leave there– but there was no way we would be able to carry them up 10 storeys’ worth of stairs. We grabbed the essentials (that being Emilio’s food, our new garbage can, and some chocolate– I HAVE CRAMPS YES CHOCOLATE IS ESSENTIAL) and wheezed our way up the 20 flights of stairs. Then collapsed on the bed for an hour of recuperation and playing Rob’s Gameboy. I love Super Mario Brothers! I LOVE IT! Even though on four occasions I ended up flinging the Gameboy down on the bed and declaring “This game is an asshole game! It keeps making me die!”. Stupid asshole Mario Bros.

Uhm… then the power came back on and we went down and got the rest of the groceries and I made supper and Emilio did sort of a funny little Emilio thing. The end.

Sometimes the best thing to do when you wake up grumpy and crampy (and the other dwarves) is to just roll over and go back to sleep, and wake up later in a better mood.

Other times the best thing is to wake up your boyfriend who has only been asleep for two hours, and grumble at him for twenty-five minutes about how you really, really don’t like the way the restaurant that we went to three months ago made their tomato soup because it was really pasty and had rice in it and why would anyone put rice in tomato soup unless they said on the menu that it was tomato rice soup? And even then, you’d think they’d have at least cooked the rice all the way through because ew! It was really no good!

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Next time I need a job, I’m considering doing something like this.

Via Ernie.