Battle of the Boom Box

Jazz vs. Crappy Rock.

Who wins?

Our neighbour is cranking it. Nickleback of all things. Crappy pants. I HATE that band. More importantly... what are our neighbours doing being annoying and scrappy on our turf?

We fight back with a little Stan Getz. And drink some more red wine...

Boom boxes get louder and louder on both sides. It's war.

LB asks..."Since when do we have neighbours who aren't retired?"

Good question.

Yes, But Does He Pay the Fare?

Just because I'm in transit, I had to share this story courtesy of the Daily Mail.

Here's an excerpt:

Bus drivers have nicknamed a white cat Macavity after it has started using the No 331 several mornings a week.

The feline, which has a purple collar, gets onto the busy Walsall to Wolverhampton bus at the same stop most mornings - he then jumps off at the next stop 400m down the road, near a fish and chip shop.

Check out the full story here.

Just the Way We Like It

Our regular 'Diva' get together and sleepover took place this past weekend.

It involved the usual:

• eating good food (Rockets, Mini Eggs and red meat are our idea of a well balanced meal)
• consumption of too many glasses of wine (or in some cases Scotch)
• the awarding of the WWLD trophy (but since the original WWLD trophy appears to have disappeared we have had to make do with "Manuel"... a squirrel statue which will soon adorn a red Speedo.)

There was also:

• discussion about our careers (the good, the bad, and the downright ugly)
• gossip about former colleagues and certain columnists (the good, the bad and the downright nasty)
• animated debate over what constitutes fashion (velour track suits - yes, bling - no)

But contrary to popular belief... and much to the chagrin of men everywhere... there were no naked pillow or tickle fights.

And that's just the way we like it.

That's a Bunch of Croc

I received a phone call from my sister the other night. She sounded rather sheepish. I was immediately intrigued.

"What's up?" I asked.

"Well..." she said. "If you are looking for a good birthday present for Hannah. She'd be real interested in a pair of Crocs."

I nearly choked on a red pepper. (I was prepping dinner at the time.)

My sister hates Crocs. Vowed she would never be caught dead in them. Last summer she uttered her disgust that I had a pair. Didn't bother me any. Yes, they are ugly but they sure are comfy. And I'm all about comfort. I have an extensive collection of flannel pjs and copious amounts of slippers to prove it.

It turns out that all the other kids in Hannah's Day Care Centre have Crocs... and Hannah, being the OCD child that she is, repeatedly points them out when my sister picks her up. Apparently it's too much for my sister to handle.

"Yup. I can do Crocs," I said smiling with utter satisfaction. "Ummm... but you HATE Crocs," I pointed out.

"Yeah, I know. But I hear that they are really comfortable and maybe I should get a pair for myself too. Not that I would wear them out of the house or anything," my sister admitted defeated.

Just you wait.... I thought. Before long you'll be running to the grocery store in them.

No way was I going to wait until July for Hannah's birthday. Easter was coming up. So I ran right out and got my niece a pair of bright lime green Crocs with a number of cheesy charms - like glitter stones, mermaids, monsters and butterflies - to decorate them with.

We'll see Hannah on Sunday. I can't wait to see her eyes light up when we give her her Easter gift.

And I can't help but wonder if my sister will answer the door in a pair of Crocs herself...