I Could Never Be The President of the USA.

Trust me. Its true. I wouldn't do a good job. Qualities a President must have include the ability to maintain a calm demeanor and exude confidence, no matter what major event is happening.

Lets take a show like "24", where the President is faced with a constant crisis. He (so far its always been a guy... so no ripping me apart for being sexist) must not let any situation affect his judgment at all. I can't do that. Today started off with a bit of a sleep in, and then to the gym (on my schedule) to have a workout with KP. My body didn't feel right... my arms would not coordinate with my legs or any other part of my body. It was annoying. All in all it was a decent workout... between easy and medium but definitely closer to medium. But the fact that I wasn't "on" bugged me. I also found out that a good chunk of my reading week in going to be spent in the dirty taint of Ontario... Windsor. It was then I realized this was not going to be my day. So I get home and try to put some music on my new phone to use it as an mp3 player and my phone wouldn't play the music I put on it. This upset me. Minor eh? Then, my mailbox key wouldn't work. This pissed me off too... along with the idiot who lives across the street from the mailbox. My question "Do you know if there is another mailbox in the complex?" His reply... "Call Daniel's as they come around in the afternoon to fix things." I'm sure he thought I was screwing around with the mailboxes, but after my explanation fell on deaf ears I told him to shove it and got in my car. Now I was really mad. Two episodes of 24 didn't help at all. They didn't worsen my mood, but they didn't have their usual therapeutic effects. ARRR!

I drove to my usual evening locale in a foul mood. If someone wasn't going as fast as I thought they should be on the highway, I cursed them. When I got to said place, I saw someone I didn't want to see at all. This person's voice annoyed me to no end.

February 26th, 2007. I'll remember that. If I ever get the chance to relive a day I have to remember NOT to say that date. August 12th, 2006. There's a good day. NOT February 26th, 2007.

I definitely could not have addressed any size nation today, let alone one the size of the US. I couldn't have addressed Vatican City and its population of 920. (isn't that a crazy stat... a country with a population of 920... Google it... its true). Hats off to the President.

The day is over, which is nice. A vanilla vodka and coke helps too.

The Buddy.

Yes, he is the Buddy. The cutest kitten I have ever seen and the best shit disturber around (I hear the common phrase of "OLLIE!! NO!!" from my wife in another room all the time). We were on our way back from the cottage almost two years ago and we had to take a detour to pick up my birthday present from Emily. We had to get it in Orillia. I was confused to say the least. So we get off the 400 in Orillia and proceed to go thru Orillia and into the boonies. We turn down a dirt road and end up on a farm that had recently had a fire. For a split second I thought we had just bought a farm. For the record, there was no way I was getting up at 4am to milk cows. That wasn't happening. The lady who owned the farm made a phone call and said "They're here. We're coming over." I was worried. We walk across the road into a barn, and noticed the kittens right away! SWEET! I was getting a cat. This was going to be the very first pet that I owned. For the record I don't consider him a pet anymore... he's just the Buddy. Of the three kittens that were there he was the coolest. He let me pick him up and just looked up at me like ... "Hey, whats up? Those other two are nuts but I'm cool." It was the obvious choice. When we first took him home he ate some McDonald's in the car! I took the day off work that Monday as I was scared he'd get into something he shouldn't in the house! He was 2.2 pounds. Exactly 1 kilogram.
Now look at him. 18 pounds of cute, snugglyness. The Purr-Button, the Buddy, Regal McKingsley, Fatty McLipid, Boldy McTakeriskerson, Styles, Punky Brewster, Punkies, and Ollie are just a few of his names. He has the potential to become the world's first schizophrenic cat and Em and I take full responsibility for that. Honestly... after looking at those two pics... how can you not love him to death? We do! And as much as Chuki tries to let us think he doesn't.... he does too!

Communication.

There is a problem with communcation. People have lost the meaning of the word. Two examples spring to mind.

#1 - we were supposed to meet with a VP of a large company to discuss "issues" we had with her company. She got snowed in and sent us an email but did not call. In her email she said she was going to call. She did not. Poor communication.

#2 - I was supposed to go to the Post Office to pick up the keys to my new mailbox in the complex I live in. I got there and was told that I needed something with my name AND new address on it. Here is the conundrum (yes I just used that word)... everything with that address is being MAILED to me. I cannot get at it since I do not have the key. I had to bring my lease. Who the hell would've known that?

Anyways... communication. Its a lost art. People believe that email and MSN's suffice. They don't. You don't have to speak to someone for very long on the phone... a minute is good... but honestly... are people afraid to talk to one another? I'm venting. I know. But hey, its my blog.

I love my new house.

Yes, I have a house. I don't own it per say, but its still amazing. The last apartment building we lived in ended up being a dive. It was the nicest apartment I've seen in a long time... hardwood floors, a fireplace, 2 bathrooms, 2 bedrooms, den, huge living room area. The problem with it was that nothing was ever done. No maintenance of any kind. From the simplest stuff like having our name on the buzzer list (11 months and you can't print off a new list?) to huge problems like a water main bursting and spilling 20,000 gallons of water into the building. Luckily Em was home and my sister and Carlos showed up to help out and kept the damage to our belongings to a minimum. To be honest, I don't believe anything of ours was damaged. Lucky, I know. We went searching for a new place right away and ended up living amidst boxes, missing drywall, missing floors, and a cat that thought it would be fun to hide in boxes that were being packed, only to have himself sealed shut in one before we heard the meowing. He was playing hide and seek, and he won. But now the three of us are living in a townhouse and it is amazingly better. Amazingly... its a word. From my desk in the office I can look out the window and see our friend's house. Its scary because Adam likes beer as much as I do, and the Beer Store/Boston Pizza combo is dangerously close. It'll be good to be close to Tellie again for random cokeonversations. Yes... I meant to write that. She knows what it means.

All in all, I'm finally relaxed. And it feels good.