Love and Peace. Or ELSE.

Happy-Happy, Merry-Merry to everyone out there. I realize I probably jeopardized the loyalty of the entire two people who read this thing by not updating for 34 days, but work and work and more work got in the way. I interviewed some crap bands and some cool bands and wrote an average of five stories a day for about two weeks. Thank goodness January is slower or I'd go insane. I'd go insane if it weren't for the good people at Tim Horton's coffee. I have a cup of their brew sitting next to me as I type. Liquid crack cocaine.

As far as work goes, there are union troubles happening and all is not merry and bright, but what are ya gonna do? You put your head down and work hard and get things done and hope it all works out for the best and they don't fire you for absolutely no reason whatsoever like they did that one guy to "teach everyone else a lesson."

And then you make a New Year's resolution to get the hell out of there because what kind of asshole fires somebody at Christmas to scare everybody else into not challenging him about blatantly disregarding the contract you all signed? A total dicksmack asshole, that's what kind.

So I've been sort of lazing all throughout Christmas. And feeling a teeny bit ungrateful because my mom gave me a sewing machine and, hello? That's what tailors are for. I mean, the only thing I'd ever sew is a hem and really, it's much easier to take it to the sew fine store in the mall and pay ten bucks than it is to untangle thread and try to do all that.

I'm in Calgary right now with my friend Gripper. We had an uneventful, but happy New Year filled with Cranium playing, a meaty, cheesy, delicious casserole, wine, and perhaps a viewing of Finding Neverland with a box of Junior Mints (the movie theatre candy of the gods). Finding Neverland will complete my "hot boy" trifecta of movies as it stars Johnny Depp, my future husband. I already saw Ocean's 12 (which stars various members of my man harem) and Bridget Jones the Second in which Hugh Grant was just Rrrrrowrrrr!!! And Colin Firth was merely Purrrrr... So I need my Johnny jones to feel fully sated.

Christmas in Centreville was uneventful and lame. Presents, food, snow. A hellish ten hour bus trip that put "finding a job that will let me afford to fly home" at the top of my resolutions list. A bus trip with three babies and four toddlers, people. That's hell in a handbasket right there. Add a sewage backup in the Bus Depot in Regina and a Charles Mansonish seat mate from the Hat to Regina, and you have my best bus trip ever!

Anyway. I guess 2004 was an okay year, if you like saying President George Bush. Not to mention killer Tsunamis. That's sad and I've also made one of my New Year's Resolutions to donate to some very in-need charities that will potentially help the victims over there. Because for all my moaning, I have so much that others do not and if all I have do to make sure some orphans get some food and maybe some clothes and shelter is stuff some money in an envelope, by gosh, Im'a do it.

So donate. Give. The Red Cross, Unicef, World Vision, and Oxfam are all worthy, legitimate charities that will make sure your monies get to people who need them.

Peace y'all.

Tunes: Baby It's Cold Outside (from Elf)
Tube: Elf (Santa! I KNOW him!)
Text: W.O. Mitchell Country - Courtney Milne.

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