Okay, okay, so this is gonna sound crazy, but it's a true story. Two Novembers ago I found myself shopping for no reason in a store that was way too expensive. Sometimes the urge to soothe the self-loathing Sundays with retail therapy overtakes and I am powerless against her demands. So, recognizing I wasn't purchasing something of purpose, I was merely filling the gap, I took it down a notch. After perusing the mounted deer head painted white and the ironically scratchy sweaters, I stumbled across a teeny $12 motivational soap dish. Huh, it was the cheapest thing in the whole store so I bought it. Proudly purchasing my soap dish I was happy also extremely happy I had put make-up on and was wearing my vintage glasses since unwittingly, I'd landed smack-bang in hipster haven. Swinging my brown paper bag out of this teeny boutique, I remember forgetting what I'd even bought until I unwrapped it at home. A motivational moment each time I wash my hands. A single solitary action and meditation matched in the single serving size of washing your hands. Didn't seem like anything so special, until I realized it was.

   Having a motto, a plan, a strategy, a safe word. Affirming yourself. Every self help Schmoe hosting a weekend seminar is spewing catch phrases to live happily. People are begging to be happy. People are blogging to be happy. There are groups of people who don't know how to be happy. People fighting for the joy they were banking on. Multitudes of folks who don't know how to be themselves and need to be taught by a stranger. When will we understand why these people wanting so badly to be happy can't be? When does sadness become a national health concern? The one thing they've got going for them is they know they can be better, happier and they hope to be saner. Ah, hope, happiness and sanity: the trifecta.

   There'
s a reason that self help is so popular. You are just the right self to help you out. But flip a coin and I agree the mumbo jumbo is no bull. Knowing that each time I wash my hands I affirm myself. I pledge to lead by example. To be brave and true. That's a big assignment. That's a lot to ask of myself but the soap dish commands it. It continues to demand excellence. Every day my soap dish holds me accountable. My superficial purchase that was to be devoid of meaning actually became the mantra behind my initiative to change. Of course there were other factors: thank you Momma, Papa B, Hubby, BFF, Bucy & Bean for all your support and snuggles. But honestly, I think it really was the soap dish:)
 
  This time of year is full of insipiration.  Motivational tips. Cute videos and tales of redeeming glory.  So, I thought I would jump on that bandwagon...seems like a safer bet than the Leafs.  These inspirations are for all my inspire-ers:)

1.  There is a girl I know who volunteers because she wants to. She bakes and posters. She shaves ice and visits with people down on their luck. She is truly a good person.  She inspires me to be generous.

2.  There is a woman who mediates. She hears what is being said and how people are saying it and listens without judgement. Knowing the value of an opinion she saves it.  She inspires me to use my words carefully.

3.  There is a friend who challenges me. Who gets my goat.  As if knowing when I need her and why, she keeps me on my toes. Reminding me there are so many possible outcomes to any situation.  She is a survivalist.  She inspires me to think out of the box.

4.  There is a mother who loves her baby everyday. She hugs and kisses and sings to her. She protects and cares for the needs of her young. Putting herself second.  She inspires me to choose love.

5.  There is a person who knows me. I mean really knows me.  The good, the bad and the fugly.  Who doesn't blame others when problems arise. Who digs deep and struggles through, despite rising odds and inconsideration. She inspires me to stay motivated.

6.  There is a dog who chills. She sleeps and snores. Reminding me that a day of rest is something we all need. That sometimes you need to curl up in a blanket and snooze. She inspires me to take it easy.

7.  There is a couple who live together, work together and play together. They share opinions and oppose obstacles- together. Standing side by side they are a united front.  They inspire me to work on my relationship.

8.  There are two cats who stretch, yawn and primp. They taught me that the simple act of purring can be beautiful. They remind me that grooming is a very important tool for world domination.  They inspire me to refract my inner beauty outward. 

9.  There is a certain board game that requires skill and planning. Strategy and secrecy. It takes diplomacy and fortitude. A misstep can make a difference between winning and losing. It inspires me to use my skills wisely.

10.  There is a waitress who knows my name, my order and just how I like it. She knows how my day was, by how I walked through the door. She helps me to recognize who I am and how others see me. She inspires me to be a brighter light.

11. There is a gym teacher who makes me sweat. She helps me smile through my practise, even on those days when I feel like I am not progressing. She lets me lean on her those days when I need support. She inspires me to push myself further.

12.  There is a small business owner who is constantly reinventing herself and her company. Following trends and predicting the needs of an ever changing customer base.  Teaching me about where the current of business can lead, if I just point myself in the right direction.  She inspires me to be open minded. 

13.  There is a baby who is just learning everything. Each day holds new opportunities to grow. She smiles and sighs, and sometimes she cries. Never knowing what can happen next. She inspires me to take each new challenge as it comes.

  Oh yeah, I how could I forget: There are a few readers who's dedication inspires me to carry on, even when I feel uninspired to do so. And for all these people I am inspired to be a better person. Who did you inspire today?  It's never who you expected.  You're probably on this list;) Oh and I hope to inspire people to have fun.  As for the tailgate party for this inspiration band wagon, there will be a veggie option:) 
 
Dear Santa,

   How are you? I thought I would ask so that I could prove that I am considerate and should in fact be on the nice list- in case there were concerns. I know I've seen you twice this year, but I didn't have my list with me. Plus, when I saw you up close I grew genuinely worried about your health, specifically your blood sugar level and cholesterol. Have you been pre-screened for diabetes? At your age, (what are you now 70ish?) these are things you should start to worry about. Especially this time of year; it can be stressful and strenuous. I also think that we're ready for a new fashionable update to your look. Of course you're comfortable with the red velvet standard, but we've made many advancements in apparel technology. You know you can you always ask Mrs. Clause, for something other than socks and underwear. Which reminds me, jolly red man, there are a few things I have on my list.

1. Socks and underwear. I have worn through the pairs you gave me last year. There are holes and snags, stains- on the toes of my socks and frayed elastics on the waistbands of my underpants. A couple pairs of wool work socks with red ringers and a 3 pack of panties would be great.

2. Mittens, of the handmade woollen variety. Preferably to match my fav hat. Replacing the sentimental mittens I lost already this year.

3. A new North Face winter coat. The stuffing on my current Charlie Brown jacket is sticking out my armpits, tar-lessly feathering me. I look like an ironically overgrown chicken pretending to be a vintage lady.

4. A juice Tiger- or similar non-fiction device for juicing fruit and veggies. A big star beside this item. Though that is mostly because my Hubby has now convinced himself that he needs one, even though we had an industrial juicer sit on our counter for 3 years and he never used it.

5. Roomba or Air purifier, something to help keep the fur-babies in check. I don't know about Reindeer, but dogs and cats shed like it's their mandate to weave their tiny white hairs into every fibre of every fabric and build fur pucks underneath all of our fur-niture.

6. Is there room in your sac for a vacation? I mean a really, real vacation. One where I don't have to do anything? But absorb some vitamin D, mojitos and get sand in every nook and crevice.

7. A Christmas tree? I think my Momma & Papa B have forgotten that the Christmas Spirit actually lives in the Yuletide boughs. I don't mind decorating it, as Bro will help me. We'll even take it down.

8. A world tour to see my friends far and wide. A party with the Home team advantage for those near. And a country wide sprawl to visit with the Happy Hatress, the East Coast Momma, the Winnipeg Whirlwind and the West Coast Doppleganger.

9. Oh, and a new web host for my Blog. With an easier myPad application. Cuz from what I hear, easier is typically faster and more fun.

   Well, Santa I don't want to keep you much longer, just wanted to make sure you got my letter. I know it's short notice, but I put the wrong postal code on my snail mail. BTW- pretty strange how it's HOH OHO, I assume as per canadian postal services those O's are actually Zeros. Here's to a Happy Holiday. Maybe I'll see you at your timeshare in the Canary Islands, as Hubby and I wouldn't mind sharing our vaca with you and the Mrs.

Happy Christmas, Santa, I love you.
Melicious but Nice

P.S. Jilly wants a new garbage ball she finds on the side of the road. And Lucy wants some more time dog-free.
 
  Heading into the busy holiday season I thought I would try to organize myself.  I would love to be one of those "5 year plan-It's all going according to schedule" girls but these are words I have never uttered.  Ever.  There are things I am good at organizing; like other people's events-which can be very helpful this season. But there are organizational tools that elude me, for example choreographing a Puppy and Kitty Xmas Carolling Concert- I don't know how those animals on the radio do it.  Oh and Social planning.  It's not my forte.  Please let me explain.  I am great in social situations, it's all the other stuff that goes with them that I stink at.

   Firstly, I am not a good planner.  Not to mean I can't make plans and keep them. It's just that I like to fly by the seat of my pants which means I leave a lot up to destiny. I make general plans with multiple options for amusement. Letting myself go with the flow- a BFF trick extraordinaire.   It's a lot more fun that way. Unless of course you're married to the Commish, who must account for every minute he's on the clock, otherwise the boys upstairs will start giving him heat; and he's too old for that.  

   Secondly, I tend to double, triple and in rare cases even quintuple book myself.  The enthusiasm of just being invited somewhere clouds my judgment, going against all scientific theories of time and space. Which I hope by this time in the year 2014 (baring the Rapture) we'll have solved. And I will be able to attend all events simultaneously on a fractured timeline.

   Thirdly, distraction. I am easily distracted.  Oh! A squirrel!

   Fourthly, short term memory loss. Did someone say something about squirrels?  If I don't write it down it's gone.

   Fifthly, I forget every year this coming month goes by so fast and then the parties are over. It's a busy blur of festive cheer. Leaving us in the Daylight savings dark with nothing to celebrate until Valentine's day.  

   So, I hope this year to take advantage of some much needed celebrating. Despite all my social foibles.  There something relieving about FB holiday invites going out early and the pre-event planning I've been involved in.  So, this year I look forward to wrapping myself up in an ugly Sandy Clause sweater and enjoying all the miracles and merriment of the season. At least that's my plan;)

 
   There is a special bond that grows between a man and his dog.  Or in my case the Stinker and this Gal.  It is not something that can be easily explained. It's a delicate balance of love and angst. A Bermuda triangle of troubled waters and deceptively calm skies.  Watching her claim and reclaim her 'rightful' place at my side is a comedy of errors. 

   I have always had animals. I grew up with Ralph- a charming and distinguished old man conveniently trapped in the body of a lazy Basset hound. He was the howling defender of our house. The couch sleeping snore machine that interrupted  movies. And in his old age he would toot with the effort of climbing the stairs. A tuneless trumpet played for my childish delight.  We had Ralph for more than 10 years.  He was part of our family- he picked favourites, but still he was a part of it.  He was my Papa B's puppa roo.

   Then along came Beba. Or Eta-be-ba-sane. Or the Big Lady. Or Beebs. Or any number of variations on Reba. An unimaginative breeder's  reject. She is a ballerina trapped in a bohemouth's body. With the nerve to love everyone. Her chocolate brown eyes always goofily optimistic for just one more cookie. The prettiest tail wagging simpleton in all the land. She is a Basset of a different colour and perfect for our family.  Her award winning smile sets her apart.

  Having less space than my parents and knowing I could never fit a country Basset in a city unit, I chose a smaller hound pup.  A reagle Beagle.  The teeny diddy bean is the sweetest Tinker in the world. Songs have been sung of her beauty and grace. Her fans are scattered far and wide. Shy and quiet her big brown eyes blink at a stranger's approach. She's a stinker though.  I am convinced she thinks I control the weather. Making it rain just to soak her tender toes.   She has perfected the four foot stomp. A sure fire way of telling us she's hungry. And I could do without her stretching out in bed, pushing me into the upper quarter and defending it with her half moon claws.  Plus the undercover over-heating. She's getting to be an old dog, but she's still pretty tricky.

  Having a dog is a special responsibility. Even cat lovers know that. You must consider dogs. Their timelines, their behaviours, the seasons and their personality. Each dog I've loved was completely unique. All equally nuts, but I wouldn't have it any other way. Jilly Bean is the first dog that is my own.  She's grown past the puppy faze. Through the grumpy teenage dog years and now she's beginning her mid-life crisis. The dog days may not be over but I will stay true to my furry best friend.

P.S. I know I'll get in trouble for not mentioning Bucy goose.  The prettiest kitty with the cutest face. Her head is too small for her body, but she's got some spunk. She's a batter. Whipping Jilly into a frenzy then bopping her on the nose. She's a holy terror. But she's not a dog. 
 
  Baby steps, taking your time and half measures-  I can't say I'm a fan.  I have been told once or twice *insert throat clear* I mean a lot, that I put too much pressure on myself.  Expecting to achieve life long dreams in dog years.  C'mon Melicious get it together! Yesterday's appearance on a National morning show was exhilarating.  Being invited to a movie premiere, picked up at the Breaking Dawn (Twilight reference) in a schmancy car and broadcasting my smile across the country was amazing.  So, why, as soon as I finished did I feel like I was under-achieiving?  Why couldn't I just allow myself one day of gratitude and celebration?  Oh, that's right, because I put a lot of pressure on myself and never quite live up to my own insanely high standards.

  There are so very many reasons that I should celebrate.  I have a loving Hubby, a great group of friends-that I don't see often enough-wicked family, a steady job, a few great ideas and my health.  Plus the Puppa tink and Bucy goose, which goes without saying.  So, why is it I can't just be happy with what I've got?  There is a theory floating around that it may be genetic.  Allow me to elaborate:  My Momma opened a retail store this past week, before finishing her current term as Councillor, while still working a full time job.  My Papa B who builds bathrooms on the weekend, while digging up the front and side yard and runs a company with 5 fulltime staff.  Of these lists I have also left off their volunteer habits, their assorted groups and clubs, oh yeah and sleeping/eating- a highly undervalued commodity in our household.   I am not blaming them- it's better than being raised by some no-good-lay-abouts with a reputation for no-good!  But watching them strive to better themselves has challenged me to do the same.  Only worse, because I do it Artistically.  

  While attending performing arts school I learned to express myself.  To climb every mountain and dream the impossible dream.  Well, here's a surprise, artists don't get paid much, so to supplement my pro-bono art, I work really hard at other things.  But this leaves me tired and uninspired...and a bit pouty. My big fat bottom lip hanging out just waiting for a bird to perch.  Don't get me wrong. I am of course grateful for all I have, I just thought I would be further along on this journey.  Closer to having a vacation.  Closer to finishing my book.  Closer to being thin.  And just closer to not being so far away from my-sometimes unrealistic- goals.  Here's the thing, I know that half the fun is getting there, I just wish the directions were a little more clear.  Though, I guess I am to blame for that too, as I keep changing the destination...but that's a story for another time.  
 
   Is lying to yourself really lying?  I mean if you truly believe something about yourself, could it really be wrong?  Growing up things are black and white.  Stealing is bad.  But the older you grow, the greyer things get.  Stealing to feed your hungry family is bad, but not for the same reasons.  It has been a long time that I have been telling myself I am a better person than I might actually be.  I have been telling myself (and you) that we can be the people we want to be.  It’s just not as simple as I hoped.  Being a good person is the most difficult thing I have ever tried to do.  The effort required to make the person you are on the outside into the person you dream to be on the inside is an ongoing struggle.  With obstacles rising up to meet you every single day.  Temptation to be mean.  To be selfish. To be too tired to be the best friend you hoped to be.  To be strong in the face of adversity.  To really stand up for what you believe and what you’ve told yourself to be true.  To gossip.  Being a good person is the most challenging person to be, it's a never-ending battle.  That’s what makes a good person so special. 

    People say that life is short.  And all you have is today.  Though there are times when you feel you’ve lived this day before.  The hours dragging before it's even time to start.  Starting something and sticking to it.  Sounds easy enough.  But I feel like I’ve been waiting to start my whole life; I just didn’t realize that actually doing it- this whole living the good life thing- would be the hardest thing I’ve tried.  It’s exhausting.  High kicking and selfless giving and trying, I mean really trying.  It scares the crap out of me.  Living like you're dying is tiring.  I am tired.  I have been lying to myself, thinking that I was doing this just for me.  And I am not; I am doing this for you mostly.  And also how I feel about me when you’re happy.  The fear of disappointing those who believe in me is greater than this weariness.  I started this brand new me in hopes that I could force myself into believing that it was true. 

   There are days when I can’t bring myself to smile.  Days when life has piled up and things have started falling.  Dropping, despite my efforts to catch and juggle everything.  This blog has benefited from my tenacity. But my body has suffered because of my laziness.  My Hubby doesn’t get the attention he needs, because I am too busy working at a job that doesn’t help me feel good about myself.  My Puppa-Stinkeroo misses me 5 days a week.  My Kitty is back to being aloof- because I am not there to wear her down.  My friends haven’t seen me. My dream is in a holding pattern.  Well, I guess I lied to myself that this steady job was worth all the things I wouldn’t have time for.  The very best thing I found is that I have learned so much about who, how and why I yam what I yam.  I need to have the freedom to live life as the best me.  Stop lying to myself and stop lying.  Period .  Everyone is all to fast to remind me of what a great paycheck it is… Yeah, but c’mon wouldn’t you rather I be a happy broke ass instead of lying to yourself that money is what you want?  It’s never been about the Fame, the Fortune, the Fanfare.  It’s all a lie anyway.  The only thing that I am not lying about is how great I feel trying to be the best I can be, even though it’s the hardest thing I’ve done.  But you know what they say: Fake it ‘til you make it.  And I am gonna make it this time.  And that’s no lie.

 
  Yesterday was my 1 year wedding anniversary. Hurray! It's paper. The year wasn't easy but it sure was interesting and awesome. There was so much stuff to see and do.  So, I wanted to let you know some of the things I learned:

1. My Momma loves buying hats.

2. Condos stoves do not accommodate an 8 quart roasting pan with lid.

3. If you ask nicely enough your Hubby will take care of it because you're so busy. (must be busy to qualify)

4. Positive reinforcement goes a long way.

5. It's easier to let Hubby do what he wants than try and convince him otherwise. Though he's finally realized that I am the one who knows how to find the fun.

6. Some people talk and some people do. But it's best to be a bit of both.

7. Actions speak louder than words. Except yelling, that's the loudest.

8. Telling someone to relax has the opposite effect.

9. Teaching each other to be better people is a fun activity.

10. Mastering social flow of conversation is key to becoming a social master.

11. Rock Hudson and Danny DeVito are both sexy for different reasons.

12. A bed is not sleepable until there is at least 2 teeny furry bodies in it.

13. Being married means giving gifts as a couple.
13a. It also means someone taking 1/2 the credit for your wicked gift.

14. My Hubby can be very persuasive when he wants to be.

15. An August anniversary is perfect timing. Except when it falls on a Monday after FanExpo.

16. Paper is not a good gift. Unless there is a former prime minister on it.

17. I would rather have chicken wings and a lemon drop with our favourite bartender than fancy-it-up for my anniversary dinner.

18. Being married to the Karaoke host is just as brutal as dating him. Drunk girls love the karaoke host.

19. People remember what they got you for your wedding. And think you use it while they're there to impress them- when really you use it all the time.

20. Gift certificates are the 2nd best gift.

21. I am a workaholic for the wrong reasons on the wrong things.

22. Working opposite shifts is hard on your relationship but great for shower schedules.

23. Being a newlywed has a different feeling, that doesn't last long enough.

24. Tough Ole' Papa B likes to hug us all- including Bucy and the Bean.

25. I did good picking such a rocking Hubby. And I even love him the days I might not like him. 

26. Everybody can dance to Bluegrass.

27. I am lucky My other Mother is as great as she is.

28. Having inside jokes as a married couple surprises people.

29. People love giving newlyweds advice- especially if their marriage didn't work out.

30. Marriage isn't easy. But our lives are better because of it. 

   This last year has changed both of us.  And for the next marital year we have already made our resolutions.  It's exciting and I look forward to helping those things happen. We are becoming two braver and bolder people with each other's love and support; I wouldn't bet against these underdogs.  Watch me! Watch Us! Watch out! The honeymoon might be over, but I am still over the moon.

 
Almost a kids story. 
Inspired by the word: Lance
The following events are fictional and any semblance to my pets living or dead is almost coincidental.


     Once upon a time there was a kitty. But she was no ordinary kitty, for this kitty was a queen. Not exactly an evil queen, but she definitely had her moments.  Her face was the cutest and her paws were bedazzled with gleaming jewels. Tip tip tapping across the kingdom floors she would bring a smile to her subject's faces. Then one day a wicked Stinkeroo Witch cornered Queen Bucy. The Queen though outweighed and outmatched by the Stinkeroo Witch was brave.  Lashing out at the Witch with a sparkling paw she growled "I will not be bullied in my own kingdom, you barking and bothersome Stinker." The Stinkeroo Witch was taken aback, having underestimated the Queen's bravery.  Cursing the Queen the Stinkeroo Witch curled up her tail and conjured a hex. 
"Because dear Queen you are a beast.  
Life no more a Fancy Feast. 
Heed my words and my bequeath. 
This curse will rot your feline teeth." With her words hanging thick in the air the Stinkeroo Witch turned tail and disappeared into her caged cave. Shocked; Queen Bucy had never been hexed before, she was unsure how to deal with it.  So she took a relaxing bath. A very-very long and involved bath.  As she lay in a sunspot she noticed a slight humming feeling buzzing in her ear- chalking it up to her own purr, she ignored it and fell into a deep sleep. Sleeping for hours and hours until the sun fell; suddenly Queen Bucy awoke to a strange sound. Something big and something close was pounding. Softly at first then the noise drew near until Queen Bucy could feel something slimy and slippery slide down the inside of her ear. Taking her tip tap toes she scratched, shaking but it was too late the ooze was inside. In the darkness Queen Bucy waited. Sitting quietly trying to feel the slimy slippery ear sliding substance, the pounding began again. Softer this time but almost from... inside. Was that possible? The Queen felt her temperature rise underneath her fur coat. The pounding gained momentum and infection congestion pushed against her insides, for the first time in her royal life she was scared.  As she sat uncomfortable the pounding transformed into a throbbing; dragging her into the darkness. A haze surrounded her, pulling her down, past the pounding, through the throbbing into a foggy dreamscape. As her eyes adjusted the Queen saw a figure in the distance wriggling and twisting towards her in the mist. Standing in the dreamy darkness, frozen with fear Queen Bucy watched the shape draw near. Her feline eyes catching the glimmering form taking the shape of was it? Could it possibly be...King Action Jackson? Swimming towards her; his purple scales gleaming in the ethereal light.
 "Queen Bucy, you've been cursed." he bubbled woefully, "I have come to you in your time of need.  The future is unclear but filled with much pain.  Your mouth will remain cursed and ailing unless you follow my instructions.  There is an ancient healer you must find. His knighted name is Sir Kent, his method may cost you, though his abilities are of great value." And just as quickly as he had arrived he was gone.  Leaving Queen Bucy to awake with a start from her dreamland and feel the sheer throbbing swollen slimy pain King Jackson had predicted.  It had started to affect her vision. With her tail tucked between her legs the Queen approached her high court advisors. Coming to them with her ailment, purring with hopes of relief. 
"I believe the Stinkeroo's curse to be real.  King Jackson came to me in a dream, telling me of the mystic healer Sir Kent and that he could break the spell.". Seeing the effect of the curse reflected in her face her advisors had no choice but to find Sir Kent and mend their Queen.  After traveling many miles with the Queen upon the advisor's back, they finally arrived at the modest hovel of the land's most revered healer. The Queen had been expected, Sir Kent welcoming and hypnotizing her into a deep sense of calm. The throbbing pain eased, only to reveal the curse ran deeper. Sir Kent knowing that a hex as strong as this would require special herbs, potions and perhaps a healer's dance.  He dismissed the       Queen for the evening with promises of future comforts in the morn. Dawn breaks early in the Kingdom as their drowsy Queen keeps a patient watch over her many bustling subjects.  The night was ignored agony as she waited for the Mystic to return. Arms full with baskets of Nightshade and magical roots Sir Kent invited her Highness to attend a curse breaking ceremony. Distraught at the thought that she may leave her station unattended, she fought with her advisors. 
"Your Majesty, please," they implored her "We know the kingdom will await your return and greet you with flowing ribbons and cuddly blankets."  With slow actions Queen Bucy quietly approached the sacred site Sir Kent had prepared, turing back once more to look upon her trusted advisors.  The hours dripped by until all at once the trumpets of the kingdom rang out with the joy of a Queen freed from curse. The advisors eagerly awaited her as she emerged from the healer's hands. Her face the Queenly vision of loveliness her subjects recognized. With wide unvexed eyes Queen Bucy returned triumphant to the throne. Throughout her recovery her Majesty knew that though she had been cursed by the evil Stinkeroo Witch they were destined to inhabit the same small kingdom together.  Her only hope that her trusted court advisors would preserve and protect her. As for the Stinkeroo Witch she would haunt the land with tails of woe, the constant reminder: the baleful howl of the wind from her caged cave.

 
When I woke up and stretched and let out a yawn
I couldn't remember where the week had gone 
I thought maybe this week would take me all year
But the time went by fast and now that it's here.
'The weekend, the weekend' I cried out with joy
Time to spend with my Hubby and boy,
I am glad the weather is supposed to be nice
Because working all week I missed out on the ice
Tinklin' in my glass, while floating in gin 
Rooftop patio please, you will soon find me in
Atop of the city with a view of CN
I love it so much, don't know where to begin.
Fingers are crossed for fun and for rest
A drink and goodbye for a gal who's the best
My uke wants to sing songs in sweet harmony
Jilly and Lucy; I'll rub their tummy
I know that the weekend will be fast and then gone
A pedi and snuggle and blog set for dawn
Monday will start with a boom and a bang
Before the sunrises I will work again
So hear me out weekend, I've been a good friend
I've worked really hard and this short weekend
I want you to listen and love me real good
The way only a summer weekend ever could
So prepare thyself weekend for fun and for mirth
Cause you know you're too short, I want all that you're worth
Thank you for hearing my pledge and my vow.
I would love you weekend, if you'd only start now!