Or perhaps I just became a Longaberger home consultant.  Yep, either way, I drank the Kool-Aid.  God help me.  I’m also an Arbonne consultant, and I imagine that the Longaberger thing will work the same way – my customers will be me, my mom, and my sister.  Why branch out and actually try to make any money?  Personally, I like to come in last in all sales, goals, etc.  That way, some woman who really does give a shit but who sucks ass at sales can come in second to last.  That’ll make her day.  See what I do for people?  Surely this will get me into heaven (assuming I’m forgiven for conspicuous consumption of baskets and eye cream).

We had our Fakesgiving this weekend (lots of people thought I was Canadian when I told them about our early Thanksgiving, but no, I am not – theirs was a week earlier).  It was actually lots of fun.  The food was beyond awesome. 

Besides stuffing myself silly, I got to go to two parties.  One was Friday night, and was at my sister’s house.  It was Game Night with Jason’s friends.  I played this game on the PS3 which involved being an amoeba and eating stuff.  It was very relaxing.  The second party was the Halloween party which we dressed up as geishas for.  I have pictures but haven’t put them on the computer yet.  Actually, I haven’t loaded the software on the computer, and I can’t do it on my laptop because it doesn’t have a disk reader thingee.  So I’ll have to do it on the upstairs computer, and that’ll take motivation.  I have none at the moment, so eh, maybe tomorrow.

The people who had the Halloween party (I’ll call them Jim and Andrea) were really into Halloween.  There wasn’t a surface in their house untouched by a decoration.  They also made a haunted house in their garage.  After many arguments, I finally got Kim to agree to go in it with me.  Andrea told us, “You don’t control the flashlight.  It controls you.”  I had no idea what she meant until we got in there and our light would randomly shut off.  We’d keep walking, the light would turn back on, and we’d be surrounded by heads hanging from the ceiling (or arms or what looked like police batons.  I’m not sure what the fear factor is there, unless you happen to be like me and have an irrational fear of cops taking you to prison where you won’t have access to tweezers.  Unacceptable!)  We laughed and laughed through the whole thing.  Well, it was more like we’d scream, then laugh, then scream, then laugh again.  By the time we went through, we’d also met most of the people at the party so we knew who it was jumping out at us.  That kept the freaking out to a minimum.

Anyway, Andrea the hostess was really nice but also very odd.  She took me and Kim into her office and showed us all these pictures of herself when she was younger and 50 pounds lighter.  Kim said that Andrea always does this.  She gets drunk, and then it’s like “Glory Days”.  The pictures were beautiful though.  She could’ve been a pin-up girl in the forties.  She had that kind of face and figure.  I also saw a picture of Andrea’s mother who apparently was a Bond girl back in the day, but I can’t figure out who she was.  I only saw one picture of her and it was dark, but I gotta say, she was stunning.  Kim also said that Andrea doesn’t like going to other people’s houses.  She’ll have all the parties in the world at her own house, but if she has to go to someone else’s house, she won’t talk.  At all, which was shocking to me because she talked ninety to nothin’ at her own party.  She went up to the guest room at Kim’s house and slept during one of my sister’s parties.  I was like, “Why go then?”  I mean, if you don’t want to go, and you’re going to pull a dumbass stunt like that, then just don’t go.  I asked Kim if Andrea felt bad that night or something, and she was like, “No, that’s just what she does.  She’s weird.”

I managed not to gain any weight over the weekend.  I’m not sure how, but yay.  Today I discovered a new drink at Starbucks.  It’s just a regular ol’ Caffe Latte (soy, of course), but it saves me 80 calories of flavored syrup.  It’s not bad at all.  I put a couple of Splenda packets in it after I tried it, but I could’ve had it without.  I was just in the mood for something sweet.  What I’d really like is some candy corn, but that’s not gonna happen.  There’s not any in the house, and I’m not going out!

Okay, it’s laundry time.  Maybe I’ll install that software while I’m up there.  We’ll see!


There’s a cute guy at work.  That’s all I’m saying.

No, it’s not.  He noticed my hair yesterday.  Now that’s all I’m saying!

My coach is out of town for a week, and our rink is shutting down for that same week to completely redo the ice.  To which I say it’s about damn time!  My gosh, the freestyle side is horrendous.  The situation is certainly not helped by the fact that nobody bothers to fill in their holes at the end of a session despite the lovely bucket of snow which is kept for this very purpose.  The dance side isn’t so bad, but the area by the benches is getting pretty cruddy from the coaches going back and forth repeatedly in the same little spot (lazy butts).  Anyway, it’ll be nice once it’s done. 

Even though we’re closed, I still have to work on Tuesday because the contracts for reserving ice sessions are always due on the third.  I think I’m going to take a Christmas stocking to work on because most people were getting theirs turned in this week.  I have to work with Nightmare Girl.  She’s just a few years younger than me, hasn’t had a boyfriend in eight years (reason coming up –>), and talks incessantly about her pet lizards, turtles, and foster dogs.  Plus she hangs over your shoulder and watches you work on stuff like (drumroll) paperwork.  That must be very exciting to watch.  I think we’ve been over my issues with personal space.  There is nothing that annoys me more than space invaders.  Get outta my face!  Urgh!!!  Oh, and I forgot to mention that she is constantly telling me when she last saw my ex-boyfriend (she’s a scorekeeper for hockey), and if he said hi to her, and what she said back.  I finally told her, “Look, I’ve erased him from my phone.  I’ve deleted him from my IM.  He could be dead for all I know, and quite frankly, I really don’t care.”  Harsh, yes.  Not entirely true either.  Also not really entirely untrue.  The point is, she stopped talking about him around me.  I hope they end up dating.  They’re perfect for each other!  Eeewww, does that sound bitter?

So in keeping with the title of this post, I’m not sure what to do about skating next week.  Duke said go ahead and take the week off and rest my ankle.  I got on the scale this morning though, and I know resting is totally out of the question.  When I finish my post, I’m either going to walk or run.  Actually, I’m going to start out walking and test the running at the end.  If it feels like jumping did at ballet this week, I’ll know to walk tomorrow.  If it feels okay, I’ll start running for real again tomorrow.  Skating-wise, I really want to find another rink this week because I just learned to twizzle (it’s like a travelling pirouette) and I don’t want to lose what little I have of it by taking time off.  Plus I want to work on double three-turns and spins.  So see, I have a plan for once.  The last time I took a week off, it was disastrous.  I went back and was like, “Uh, we have to start over from the beginning.  I can’t remember how to do any of this.”  A couple of days later, everything was fine, but it is super disconcerting.

I think the spellchecker is still non-functioning, so again, and until it’s fixed, I’m sorry!  Maybe I’ll start writing this stuff in Word so I can spellcheck it there, and then transfer it over.  That’s a pain in the ass though!

I’m in training at the rink, working in the figure skating office.  It’s an easy job which doesn’t take much time out of my schedule.  However, one of the things I have to do is take roll for each on-ice session.  What you do (and I might add that this has got to be one of the most inefficient things that this entirely inefficient operation does) is take a roll sheet and look at the people on the ice and write their names down.  Sounds simple enough, right?  But the reality is that all these kids look alike to me (less than five feet tall, little dress, ponytail).  I know the ice dancers since that’s what I do.  I know some of the kids because of having them in different off-ice classes.  The majority, though, heh.  I have no idea who these people are.  So you either have to call them over to get their names or go bug one of the coaches for names.  That’s just dumb.  Why can’t we put the sheet up at the ice entrance and have the kids sign themselves in?  Seems like a simple solution to me.  Then I would go check and see if the number of names matched the number of people, and if it didn’t, then I would start calling people over or checking with the coaches or whatever.  Then again, everyone else who works in the office has managed to learn all the kid’s names, so I guess I can too.

I have a monster headache, so that’s it for today.