Thursday, 30 April 2015

Pie + Puppies.

I have a really quick preface before I get into this post, but it's necessary because it applies to the rest of the post.

I have a job.

Like, an actual, honest-to-goodness, full-time, I-don't-work-from-my-house-anymore job.  I mean, I'm not going to go into a bunch of detail right now about how it all happened, but to make a long story short, I got a pretty good offer and George was like "Take it.  Take the job, AJ.  AJ, take the job.  TAKE IT." because apparently he hasn't been having fun being the only one of us with a steady income or whatever.  So, anyway, yeah.  I have a job, now.

I was at work yesterday when I got this email:

Puppies, you guys.  Puppies.  Delivered directly to your office for a play date!  How freaking awesome is that?!

I was understandably excited about the prospect, especially considering that if this had happened a mere month ago, I wouldn't even have had an office for the puppies to be delivered to.  Obviously it was fate, right?

I may have forgotten to tell him about the email from Uber.  It led to some confusion.
It turns out that my boss hates puppies hates fun wants to ruin my life had concerns about some of the other staff's allergies/fears, and was totally not on board with my suggestion to have puppies delivered to the office.  *insert pouting here*  

But on the bright side... pie.

Did you know that Tuesday was National Blueberry Pie Day?  I had to work late on Tuesday to take care of some client requests, so when George came to pick me up, we decided that it was too late to start cooking and officially declared it a takeout day.  I nudged George, who was reciting our order into the drive-thru speaker.

Me:  "Get a blueberry pie."
George:  *to the box* "Sorry, one sec... *turns to me* what?"
Me:  "I need a blueberry pie, too."
George:  "No, you don't."
Me:  "Yes, I do."
George:  "No... you don't."
Me:  "YES I DO, GEORGE.  It's National Blueberry Pie Day.  I need a pie."
George:  "No, you don't.  There's a blueberry pie on the counter.  I picked it up at the grocery store this afternoon."

Because apparently George is psychic.

Just look at this tiny, delicious pie.  That golden, buttery crust.  *drools*

Baby Turtle took part in the festivities, too.

I wish every day was a National Pie Day.
Did anyone else take part in National Blueberry Pie Day?  Or, more importantly, UBER PUPPY DAY?  (If yes, I want to live vicariously through you.  Send me pictures of your puppy playdate!)

Friday, 3 April 2015

Year Thirty-Three

I'm officially thirty-three (with eleven days' experience), and I'll be honest:  it doesn't feel any different than thirty-two.  I don't feel like I'm in my thirties, guys, I really don't.  I feel like I'm... I dunno... twenty-seven.  Tops.  But there was cake and presents and even a surprise dinner, so obviously it's true.

I used to be birthday-crazy.

I looooved my birthday.  Every year, I referred to it as "Amandapalooza", and I'd have the party all planned out by mid-January.  One year, it was an 80s theme party, complete with crimped hair and black lace gloves.  Another year, it was glow-in-the-dark bowling with alcoholic slushies.  Once, there was a trip to Niagara Falls, and there was more than one party involving karaoke.  Oh, and twice, I went out dancing.

This year, though, I planned nothing.  Baby Turtle is only 6 months old and I had zero intentions of leaving him with a sitter, so I just figured I'd head over to my folks' place and have some cake.  (Because I don't care how old I get or how distracted I am, my birthday had better involve birthday cake.)  

It turns out that my parents had a surprise in store.

Not only was there birthday cake, made from scratch by my grandmother, but there was a fabulous birthday gift waiting for me... a DSLR.  I might have been in shock.  I've wanted a DSLR for about a zillion years.  You know how my old posts all disappeared into the internet abyss and took all my photos with them?  Well, now I can take new photos.  New and improved.  See ya, shitty cell-phone-camera pictures (sorry, mom).  

Check out the difference.

Here is a picture of my dog, taken with my cell phone:

And here is a picture of my dog, taken with my fancy-pants new camera:

Awesome, right??  I'm so excited about it...  expect to be flooded with pictures.  (Not always of my dog.)  

(OK, maybe pretty frequently of my dog.)

As if that wasn't amazing enough, George also had a surprise up his sleeve.

Apparently, someone had made arrangements to take me out for dinner, and he'd invited my friends to surprise me.  I almost didn't make it to my own birthday dinner, because shortly after we left the house, I felt like I was fighting a panic attack and asked George to turn the car around.  (I used to have a whole post about my anxiety disorder, but - you guessed it - lost to the internet abyss.)  But once I was with my girls, all of that stupid anxiety just melted away.  If only I had known they would be there... I would have brought my fancy new camera!

This will have to do until the next time I see them.

So, here's to Year Thirty-Three, and being surrounded by such fantastic friends and family!  I'm off to take more pictures...




You're still here?

OK, fine... here are some pictures from the old Amandapaloozas that I mentioned earlier:

But now that's really the end.