Forget the perfume.

Scratch the chocolates idea.

We don't want flowers this year either.

Nope. For 2009, THIS is the best gift of all:

Plain old white and green surgical masks aren't just for doctors, dentists and the odd bandit anymore. Nope. They've evolved:

I predict these will be all the rage this season, soon to be featured on high fashion runways. Now available in a wide range of colors and patterns, coordination with her wardrobe will be a breeze for your Mom! Yep, this IS the Must Have Accessory For '09. She can wear it to the office, at the theatre, or even while strolling the mall... heck she'll need it everywhere she may accidentally come across another human being!


So get out there and get Mom the gift that not only says "I care", but also clearly conveys your truest, deepest thoughts:

"Quit coughing on me".

Yer welcome.

10:30 pm Sunday

Stifling a huge yawn, I finally finish surfing, pack up my laptop and prepare for bed. At least if I head off now, I’ll get a decent night’s sleep for once. After all, I have to get up in 7 hours.

11:30 pm Sunday

Finally hit the sack after folding that last load of laundry I forgot in the dryer, letting the dog out and cleaning up a tad. After all, I have to get up in 6 hours.

12:30 am Monday

Attempt, unsuccessfully I might add, to evade the suddenly-energetic cat who decides it’s now time to play the “Pounce On the Human's Toes” game. Dammit, I wish I had never taught her that... and as I cringe in pain, I also wish I had clipped her needle-sharp nails lately. After all, I have to get up in 5 hours.

01:30 am Monday

Referee the cat fight that has erupted on my chest. Spitting, snarling and howling ensue as my three felines jockey for “Best Spot” that is, apparently, somewhere on top of me. But I need to get to sleep. After all, I have to get up in 4 hours.

02:30 am Monday

Let the dog out after her incessant whining prevents my falling asleep anyway. And I know all too well what happens if I ignore her. I shiver in my PJs and stare out into the pitch black backyard while she does her business, wondering if I'll ever get to sleep. After all, I have to get up in 3 hours.

03:30 am Monday

Let the dog out again; obviously she is not feeling well. Neither do I… it looks like I am not going to get those seven hours of blissful slumber I had planned. Hurry up, dog. After all, I have to get up in 2 hours.

05:30 am Monday

Slap the snooze on the alarm… Crap! I reluctantly pull myself out of bed and get dressed.

11:30 am Monday - Lunchtime at work

Place head onto desk for a quick nap. After all, *yawn* I have to go home in 4 hours…

If you've been around here for awhile, you may recall the following post from last summer in which I totally embarassed myself at a place called "Department 56" a Christmas specialty store at the Mall of America:

See Maureen vacation

Go ahead and read it if you haven't already; I'll wait.

La dee dah...

La dee dah...

Oh, back already? Great.

Why the heck am I taking you back in time to last August? Well, when Daughter and I ventured once again to Nirvana er, the Mall of America a few weeks back, the one store I did NOT want to set foot into was Department 56.

I was positive they would remember me.

Remember what I did.

They probably had my photo up in a "Wanted" poster at the door.

But I couldn't resist... I needed to take a look.

Oh Gad:

Yep. Closed up. Empty.

No trees. No uber-fragile ornaments. No reindeer. No understanding clerks. No brooms. No dustpans. No hard slate floor.

All gone.

No, scratch that. The hard slate floor WAS still there...

And I swear as I peeked through the bare windows, I could still see a tiny shard of shattered glass ornament glistening off it.

I see a lot of patient names in the reports I create at work. Often I will notice some, well, I'll be kind and call them "unique" first names.

Unique but also familiar somehow.... and then I realized a definite pattern was emerging.

When paired with their date of birth, it's a cinch to see what those new parents were being influenced by when faced with the ultimate decision: "What the hell are we going to name this kid?"

Here are just a few first names and their years of birth I have come across in the last few months:

Elvis - 1958, 1960, 1966

Actually, there are too many instances to list here.
The fifties and sixties must have spawned a whole army of Elvis'.

Elvises?

Elvi???






Marlo - 1972

Uh huh. "That Girl" Marlo Thomas.
Later in life she was Rachel's mom in Friends. But in the 70's, she was all the rage as an independant young woman finding herself in all kinds of comedic independant-young-woman situations.





Elroy - 1975

I swear, naming your kid after a cartoon character should be grounds for disownment.

I'll wager they have a dog called "Astro" too...









Kalel - 1981

Scary to think that there is someone crazy enough (other than screwed-up Nicolas Cage, that is) to bestow this "super" name on thier child.










Farrah - 1976

I'll bet it was Daddy who chose this one.

And I'll bet he STILL has that poster.










Skywalker - yes, the FIRST NAME - 1999

Again, got to be Daddy's choice.
I hope they saved up for therapy sessions. And this coming from a Star Wars fan.

Even so, I don't call my vacuum R2.

At least not out loud.







A whole plethora of Johns, Pauls and Georges from the 60's.

I'd wager these were Beatle-influenced rather than Pontiff-related names, as there are quite a number of John-Paul, John-George, Paul-George... all the permutations of possible first and second name combinations.

Except for Ringo.

Nope, I haven't yet come across THAT one yet.

Of course I work in Cardiac Sciences, not the Psych ward; so that may explain why.

"I'd like two Big Crunch sandwiches and a Fries Supreme please."

With a burst of static, the guy on the other end of the KFC drive-through speaker clicked on.

"TWO Big Crunch sandwiches, right?"

"Um, yep. Two."

"Regular or Spicy?"

"Regular."

"Sandwiches only or the meals?"

"Sandwiches only."

"And fries?"

Grrr... he was NOT listening.

"Yes, the Fries Supreme, please."

"Just one?"

"Please."

"Is that all?"

"Yes."

"Anything to drink?"

Okay. I am getting pissed now.

"No thank you."

"Alright then. That's two regular Big Crunch sandwiches and a Fries Supreme. Right?"

Arrrrrggghhhh!

"Yes please."

"Would you like anything for dessert?"

AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I screamed.

To myself, of course. Damn overly-polite Canadian manners was the only thing keeping me from strangling him when I finally reached that take-out window... if I ever got there, that is.

I grabbed the soft teal turtleneck off the Sale rack.

Might as well make the best of it... I had plenty of time to kill since my daughter was loaded down with what I could only assume was potentially an entire new wardrobe.

Yep, we were going to be here awhile.

So I sauntered to the change rooms and stood patiently in the lengthy lineup.

When I finally made it to the front of the queue, I was dumbfounded to note that the changerooms seemed to go on forever; which was a good thing since this place was jam-packed with giggly girls, grabbing any and everything like crazed hunters eager to capture that elusive beast known as The Perfect Look.

"Just take the last room down on the right", the attendant pointed out for me; smirking at my lowly single item.

I walked down the hallway passing numerous closed curtains, when I looked up at the last minute, just in time to try to swerve out of the way of someone coming the other way, right at me. But she swerves too; in the same direction, still in my path.

It's only then that I recognise the incredibly rude person blocking my way.

Gad.

It's my reflection in a huge mirror...

And as I duck into the "last" room on the right, I realize this place wasn't in fact as big as I first thought.

I'm just relieved no one saw me nearly smack myself head on into the deceptive full length mirror completely covering the back wall.

Especially my daughter.

However, that full hand print I left on it may be cause for wonder...

Whilst touring Underwater Adventures at the Mall of America last week, Daughter and I noticed the strangest thing; no, not that freaky see-through fish. (I mean it... there was a fish there that when it opened it's mouth and gills, you could see right through it! *Shudder*)

It was something else. Someone was dropping colourful Easter Eggs into all the tanks.


It must have just happened, as we had been there earlier the same day and nothing was amiss at that time.


I just dare someone to go hunting for THESE ones in the Red Bellied Piranha tank:


And then we caught a fleeting glimpse of the culprit. Yep, fuzzy pink fur, long ears, scuba tank... SCUBA TANK??? in amongst the Great White Sharks:


Here comes Peter Cottontail,
Hopping down the shark-infested trail,
Hippity hoppity hemorrhaging all the way...

Heya... Sam here again; relieved to be safe at home on my quiet shelf once more.

For you see to my great surprise last week, I was suddenly pulled from my warm home and unceremoniously plopped onto a car dashboard. It seems we girls were headed for a "Spring Break Shopping Excursion To the USA".

Since floods, snow and my silent protests couldn't stop us, we hit the road early Monday morning to the big city of Minneapolis, Minnesota nearly 800 Km away.

I didn't know exactly where that was, but since I wasn't the one driving, I wasn't too worried.

Well, not until I found myself in the midst of a scary thick fog, that is.

It seemed Mother Nature had more tricks up her sleeve to keep us from invading vacationing in the States. If I could have, I would have covered my big blue eyes with my paws as we sped through the thick soup that at times made visibility barely past the hood of the rented Trailblazer impossible.

After nearly an hour of that heartpounding experience, the sun finally came out as without any warning whatsoever, we arrived at a place called The Border. Apparently this "USA" place is only open from 8 am to 10 pm... is it like a Mall or something?

Our first stop in America was in a place called Thief River Falls. I didn't see any Falls. Or thieves, thank goodness. I did, however, get a cool bag with crunchy snax inside...

After a few hours we arrived in Albertville... apparently our first "shopping excursion" of the trip. We visited many outlet stores there and since the snow was gone, I could remove my jacket. Do you like my new Coach necklace? What? It's NOT mine? Aw crap... okay, the kid can have it. It's too big for me anyways and the fish made my stomach grumble.

I even made two new friends in Albertville. I recounted our eventful trip thus far to Lowly Worm who was duly impressed with my bravery at the wheel...

And Garfield who just wanted to know if we brought any Canadian lasagna with us.

All too soon I had to say a quick goodbye, as I was whisked off again for more shopping a few minutes down the highway at Super Target. Good thing we had all day; it was going to take forever to get to this Minneapolis place!

Finally as dusk began to fall, we reach our destination. But do we check into our hotel and relax a nice soft, warm bed?

Heck no!

A girl's gotta eat, you know:

More stories and photos upcoming, including The Mall of America, IKEA (again!) , Underwater Adventures and The Trip Back Home.

I can't wait! Can you?

A few weeks back, Daughter's Spring Break shopping trip to the States with her friends fell through. Dreams of blissfully wandering the halls of Bath & Body Works, Hollister and Abercrombie & Fitch were dashed.

She was crushed.

So, being the fantastic unselfish mother that I am, I stepped up to the plate and arranged our first "Girls Only Spring Break U.S. Shopping Excursion".

Just the three of us; my daughter, me and yes, Sam.

To Grand Forks and Fargo. We had the hotel booked, a car rented and U.S. money purchased.

Then came a major flood you may have heard about in the news.

Next, a blizzard dumped 20 cm of snow here.

I was beginning to think someone upstairs did NOT want us to drive to America. But dammit, I was determined to get us there. I even had the crazy notion to FLY to Grand Forks. I mean, how expensive could it be to fly somewhere that is a mere 2 hour drive away?


Holy crapoly!

But the Gods didn't keep us from doing our part to aid the U.S. economy... we went alright. I changed our destination to Minneapolis via a more eastward 8 hour route, and prayed that the Red River valley flood wouldn't close down the highways before we returned.

Or that the next plague to hit wasn't locusts.