Featured to your left is my dog, Watson. He’s a wire haired fox terrier and this past August turned twelve years old. Now if you know me, you probably know I love this little guy to death. He’s so cute and I think he’s pretty funny. He likes to sit in chairs (on his ass, with his back against the back of the chair and if you’re lucky, his arm on the armrest), he makes old man noises and he, from time to time, gives the evil eye.

However, he isn’t exactly the best guard dog. He’s really brave behind glass, but he’s scared of pretty much everything and has leapt into my or my mother’s arms when confronted by larger dogs. And I seriously mean leapt.

Well, last Saturday (well, not like, a few days ago the Saturday before that) Kat and I went to our five year high school reunion. After the stuff at the school, we went out for dinner with Melinda and our friend Adrienne, and then to Stella’s (which, practically no one came to). Upon coming back to my house (Kat was going to sleep over) I realized that I did not have any house keys.

I stood at the front door searching through my purse, but no luck. We were locked out. I thought that both of my parents were home and asleep, but it turns out just my mum was.

So we’re standing there, knocking on the front door. And who trots up to look out the glass? Why, Watson. So we’re thinking great! He’ll see us and be like, who the hell are these idiots trying to get in my house? And start barking.

.

.

.

Yeah, no.

Instead, he was like YAYYYY!!! And stood there, wagging his tail. Then he started to whine a bit because we wouldn’t come inside and see him. Kat and I are standing there going, “BARK. BARK WATSON. BARK!!”. Then Kat opened and closed the mail box pretending to be the mailman in hopes that would get him to bark (he hates the mailman for some reason). But noo, nothing. He just sat there happily wagging his tail and wondering why we weren’t coming inside to play with him.

In the end, I called the house on my cell phone in hopes that would wake my mum up. Which it did and Watson was quite happy to see us.

What a great guard dog, eh?

“I don’t like it when pasta talks”.

So this morning (the 27th, so it was really yesterday morning) my Grammy calls me around eleven. Last weekend when I was there helping them with their TV, I had completely forgotten that we had agreed that I would go over today so she could cut my hair (my Grammy is a hair dresser and has had her business in her basement for years, so all the stuff is down there).

I felt really bad forgetting and she said if I was busy we didn’t have to do it today. But I had no plans and I like going over there, plus I needed to get my hair cut, so I went.

First off, getting off my street was ridiculous because of the damn parade. But on a weird note, I saw Mrs. Seto and her son Jonathan walking down the sidewalk as I got into my car. She waved; she’s one of the nicest ladies ever. Jonathan takes lessons at the conservatory, so that’s how I know them.

Anyways, I got to my Grammy’s. We talked for a bit (with my Grampy too) and then she did my hair. It’s quite a bit shorter now and a lot more blonde. She did some at the back this time (she didn’t really before because my hair was too long and it would have hurt to pull through the cap).

Yes. My Grammy uses the old school cap to do the bleaching, haha. But it works well so why not right?

I ended up staying for dinner (hot turkey sandwhiches with homemade gravy), playing some cards (we play crib) and showing my Grammy pictures from the African Lion Safari. We also watched baseball which I’m not too keen on, but my grandparents love it. But all in all, it was a nice afternoon.

That’s about it.

Tomorrow Kat and I are going to Toronto. We’re leaving super early so that we can grab breakfast beforehand. Last time we tried to go for breakfast on a Sunday, the lineups were ridiculous. So hopefully tomorrow won’t have long lines. We just plan to do some shopping… and I’m not looking for anything in particular, but we’ll see what happens.

I’ve decided that ‘ridiculous’ and ’seriously’ are my two favourite words.

Well, maybe not not favourite, but they’re two of the words I use quite frequently.

I also realized that I use I a lot. See, three times in that sentence. Then I started to think that maybe I talk about myself too much. Which made me wonder if I was far too selfish, and I have come to the conlusion that yes, I am. So with that said, I should try to be less selfish and listen to other people more.

For the past few days, I’ve been driving my dad’s car. I love driving it, it makes me feel special or important, haha. I know it doesn’t make me either one, but it just feels nice. And it’s red. Well, my car is red too now that the green one died, but I like red cars. I always listen to my iPod when I’m driving, but because the tape deck in the red car I have now is broken, I had to get one of those things that tunes into a radio station and plays your music over that.

My dad didn’t know that I could just use the tape thing in his car, to hook up to my iPod, so before he left on Thursday (he had to go to London for a funeral) he made sure to take the radio tuner thing out of my car, and put it in his so I could listen to music. That was really sweet of him and I honestly didn’t expect it to be there at all. He also filled my car up with gas — which he often tends to leave empty. It’s only something small, but regardless, I was touched.

Mrs. A brought her blueberry orange muffins into work today. It’s nice to have that for breakfast with a hot cup of earl grey tea (one cream, in sugar) from Timmies.

This is the conversation I had this morning with my father on my way out the door.

Him: When are you leaving?
Me: Right now.
Him: Oh, okay. When are you finished?
Me: I’m not sure, I have to wait until Jenn gets there.
Him: Will it be after three?
Me: I think so.
Him: Oh…
Me: Why?
Him: I’m going to a blues club tonight, and I wanted to take your car.
Me: Okay…
Him: Will you be home by 5?
Me: Yeah, I’ll be home before that. When are you leaving?
Him: I don’t get off work until 7.
Me: . . . . . . . .
Him: O_O
Me: Why did I need to be home before 5 then?
Him: Oh… I don’t know!

Haha, it made me laugh. I think by the end he was like oh crap, why am I even asking this but it was just so random because it pretty much made no sense whatsoever. If anything, my dad is amusing. And I don’t mean that in any sort of mean way, he’s funny.