South Where??
Last week I was texting with GM who is originally from the small and sleepy town of South Porcupine. Yes, it’s true, such a place does exist in Ontario. For all of you Torontonian’s who think that Hwy 7 is cottage country, keep driving for about 8 hours and you might hit South Porcupine. Ya, it’s true there is life outside of the GTA, they might all be lumber jacks and truckers and buy groceries at the same place they get gas and smokes, but people do live outside of the GTA. They also don’t all have extra cars and appliances on their front lawns, but I suspect most do, not that there is anything wrong with that. It’s just that I personally wouldn’t do it, unless you could make it look like a real avant-garde piece of art. And yes, I used the term avant-garde correctly, I googled it.
Avant-garde (French pronunciation: [avɑ̃ɡaʁd]); from French, “advance guard” or “vanguard“[1]) is a French term used in English as a noun or adjective to refer to people or works that are experimental or innovative, particularly with respect to art, culture, and politics.
Anyways, back to South Porcupine. GM was telling me that he just stopped in North bay to get gas, and North Bay is way the eff up there in Northern Ontario too (this is just for the Torontonian’s who are completely geographically challenged) as he was on his way to visit his sister. I actually have no idea if his sister still lives in South Porcupine, I suspect not, however I got to thinking how ironic it is that there is a place called South Porcupine which is 4 hours north of North Bay. Anyone else find this a little bewildering (god I love the Thesaurus)?
Repressed Memories
We all have them, incidents from our childhood that are just too horrific to keep in the forefront of our minds, so we repress them. A lot of therapists get paid a lot of money to help people remember these thoughts, I remember all of mine. Problem is, B & B vehemently deny all of this shite really happened. I dont’ need a therapist I need parents who are honest. Here is one of my memories, one of these incidents that according to my loving and adoring parents ‘just didn’t happen’.
It was dark in the back of whatever late eighties, early nighties style car my parents were driving and I was in my car seat. (This memory goes way to when I was still in a car seat, and since people are always telling me how young I look I have officially changed my aged. I was born in 1987!) My parents were obviously not paying attention, I don’t know what they were doing exactly as I believe at this point I was still sleeping. Maybe they were drunk; as drinking and driving was socially acceptable until 1980 when MADD was formed, but it took a good 15 years to really catch on (ok, not really and my parents don’t drink and drive…at least not often). Anyways, I awoke with a start when we hit the back of a truck and our bumper was stuck on the top of the trucks bumper so I was now reclining in my child seat and awake! B & B tell me I am absolutely without a doubt WRONG, because of course how can I compete with B’s knowitallism, and because ‘how is it possible for car bumper to get stuck on top of a truck bumper’?? I don’t know, I was like 2! I like to think that this actually did happen, because why else would I remember it. And something else really terrible must have happened that B & B sheltered me from and they repressed because it’s just too horrible to remember. Like the truck driver was really a serial killer and he was dumping his latest victim in the ditch and we got away in the nick of time. I think maybe they need therapy, that is some effed up stuff right there. I hope after reading this they get the help they need.
I know, it’s been a while people, and I have been inspired by some kick a$$ blogs to be a touch more creative in my ramblings. Enjoy! I am off to drink (but not drive) with T as she has just informed me that she is an Avid Drinker. 🙂 Cheers
Clutzy? Not me…
Yes it’s true. In the span of 3 days I have managed to fall down the stairs a total of 4 times. I totally jinxed myself thinking that after 3 I must be in the clear – nope, not the case. It started on Sunday afternoon, the door bell rang so I was sprinting to see who might be a calling when I missed the second step and slipped to the landing. Thank god for the landing, too bad it was some random dude wanting to seal my driveway. I then had a 4 am visit from Ollie Bear letting me know under no uncertain circumstances was I to go back to sleep without first attending to his nightly ‘I don’t feel well’, needs. Fair enough to say that at 4am I am not at my balanced best and I fell (fell, not slipped) down the last 3 stairs. I do believe I bruised my foot on this one. Fast forward to last night, I headed up to bed and realized that I forgot my beloved iPhone at the front door and yup you guessed it. Half way down to retrieve it I bailed again. Here is where I thought all things were in the clear, I mean really how many more times can a girl lose her balance on the stairs in a week. Apparently at least 1 more time. My last and hopefully final fight with the stairs occurred this morning, wish me luck for the rest of my week. Thankfully I haven’t been hurt on any of these clutzy maneuvers.
Bye Bye BBQ Birdie…
I want you to picture yourself finally deciding on something to make for dinner. After much indecisiveness you decide that perhaps you should fire up your BBQ and cook outside. You carefully prepare everything you are going to grill on your BBQ and you head out to your back deck to enjoy an early evening cocktail and start up the BBQ. In this little story you have a natural gas BBQ that has definitely seen better days and should have really been replaced a couple of years ago, yet you stubbornly refused to part with the money it would require to purchase a new BBQ. You turn on the gas line, and lift the lid to the BBQ while about the strike a match when HOLY SHITE an effing bird fly’s out of the BBQ. Not only was there a dirty disgusting bird in the grill, but it has taken up residence in your BBQ. WTF? There is grass, and twigs and mud and whatever the hell else this dirty little bird has managed to scavenge to build its nasty little home in your BBQ. I want you all to know that this is not a fictional story, this actually happened to me. I was so grossed out by the thought of a bird living and pooping and diseasing and whatever else it was doing in my BBQ that I refused to eat anything from it ever again. So off to get a new BBQ we went. Once at the BBQ store I was then completely insulted by one of the BBQ sales reps who informed me that the BBQ store was a candy store for men and I belonged at the shoe store. WHAT?! Who is this guy and what century does he live in? I promptly and matter of factly informed him that I was in fact purchasing a new BBQ but that it would not be from him. Here is what we ended up with, from a nice guy who actually cared about the fact that I was going to be using the BBQ 50% of the time. This one has a cover and very few areas where a dirty bird can squish through to build a nest, although it does also have a rotisserie so I guess I can roast it’s ass derriere if it tries to come back.
Mine or Yours?
Yesterday I went to the mall. R has a birthday quickly approaching and I needed some to stock up on some birthday cheer. The mall is not a safe place for me at this time of year. All of the Spring and Summer fashions are just hitting the stores and I find it hard to resist them. My mission was R’s Birthday present, my accomplishments were lots of new things for me. Those evil retailers tempt me with their wares, they display it all oh so perfectly and I am a buy right from the display shopper. Upon entering one store my heart beat escalating, my hands felt clammy and I had a general sense of unease as I knew without a doubt, I was about to spend money.
I did not leave the mall empty-handed, however I do think that someone should remind me whose birthday it is. Mine or R’s?
My newest love…
About a year and a half ago I needed a new blackberry, but someone new had caught my eye. The Apple iPhone. My fickle heart just couldn’t decide, but in the end I stayed true to blackberry because I just couldn’t live without my bbm (blackberry messenger for those of you not quite hip enough to catch my lingo, yes that means you B & B and BA). Well my beloved blackberry had seen some better days, I am not exactly gentle with my phones, I drop them, a LOT. The buttons peeled off on the bottom and let’s face it, RIM just isn’t doing well. I like to be on the winning team, I have a small competitive streak, so I made the switch last week to Apple iPhone. More people I know now have iPhone instead of Blackberry, R has had his iPhone for a couple of years, in fact he is due for an upgrade soon I think. He should totally hold out for iPhone 5. My new phone practically does everything for me, I don’t even have to dial a number thanks to Siri. My friend GM even knows how to hook Siri up through my bluetooth in the car!! Siri is probably the most amazing woman you will ever speak too. She knows pretty much everything, she knows all your friends phone numbers, she types exactly what you say, she finds gas stations, restaurants, reminds you to do things. She is one of my new best friends! If you haven’t met her yet you should go out and get yourself an iPhone and introduce yourself. You will not regret it.
Random thoughts for April…
If April showers bring May flowers then what does April snow bring us?
Have you ever wondered why anyone cares what came first, the chicken or the egg? I know I don’t care.
My favourite line from the tv show The Office is by Michael Scott “I am not Superstitious but I am a little stitious”. lol
How come our feet get cold on hot days?
Did you know they say it’s impossible to lick your elbow? Try it.
For the impending zombie apocalypse, what will be your weapon of choice and why? I am thinking machete, its bad ass.
Why is abbreviations such a long word when it means the opposite of long words? WTF?
Apparently if you drop a raisin in a glass of champagne it’s supposed to bounce up and down continuously. Can someone else try this? I would hate to ruin the taste of my champagne with a raisin.
Elephants can’t jump. I don’t know how to prove this, but apparently it’s true.
Where is Waldo?? And more importantly does anyone really want to find him.
At a movie theater which arm rest is yours? I like to have both myself.
Why is it that everyone driving faster than you is considered an idiot and everyone driving slower than you is a moron? This is ALWAYS true for me. ALWAYS.
What does PU stand for (as in “PU, that stinks!”)? Pee Urine? That’s my guess. And one of my favourite all time insults I slung at R once was, ‘Oh ya, well you smell like PEE!” Use that one, no one knows how to respond. It’s golden. Pun intended. 🙂
Gift Card Extravaganza
I have discovered that I must be impossible to shop for, because I have an abundance of gift cards. Well actually both R and I do, I have a couple of friends who will even suggest somewhere for dinner and then wait for me to chime in about what gift cards I have on hand. At least now the retailers are not supposed to issue an expiry date on them, although R had an Upper Canada Mall gift card a couple of year ago, and I noticed on the back it said after a certain number of months they would deduct a fee. A fee? A fee for what…for not spending our money. This sounds like a big fat scam, and I am not even sure they are allowed to do this, but R’s $50 gift card was only worth $37.50. So I spent it before we lost anymore money. 🙂
I just went through my wallet and I have about 6 gift cards for various places, so if anyone feels like hanging out with me let me know. My treat! Except for the Marble Slab Creamery gift card, I received that little piece of heaven from JC at Secret Santa.
A nurse I am not…
I have a great deal of respect for people who work in the healthcare field. They are often under appreciated and over worked. R has been sick the past few days, and he can and will attest to the fact that I have little sympathy for sickness. I was raised to believe that unless you were on your death bed, you are fine and you ARE going to school or work. B & B seldom gave me a sick day, they even sent me on a school field trip with tonsillitis. As a result I rarely take a sick day. I feel like they lived by a little check list.
- You don’t look sick
- You don’t FEEL like you have a temperature (no point actually taking it, you feel fine)
- You haven’t been around anyone sick
- We feel fine
- You go to school.
Back to R…he whole heartedly believes in sick days. It is a running joke amongst our friends and family, that he takes 30 or so a year. I think he probably should have married a nurse, but hey – he asked me. He knew what he was getting into when he signed up, and as T always says “Who asked who?”. Thankfully he is feeling better, because apparently having BA live in the dungeon Suite downstairs doesn’t do much. I thought she would resume her motherly duties and attend to her ailing son, but R has suggested that he has been left to fend for himself for the last 4 days.
The Art of Snail Mail
I still believe in snail mail. There is just something to be said for getting your mail and finding a card or a letter that someone has actually taken the time to do the following things.
- Actually pick out an appropriate card for the occasion – the best are always the ‘just because’ kind
- You realize that some people still know how to write cursive, or at least print and not type.
- They bought a stamp
- They mailed it to you
We do so much now by texting and email that its just nice to send/receive cards the old fashioned way. I LOVE cards myself and while I am not great at sending them I do make an effort to do so. I often have a large stack of them on hand for birthdays, weddings, new babies, thinking of you, thank you, get well….they have a card for everything. I actually saw a card once that was for a girls first bra – no lie. It said something like ‘You are growing up so fast, on your way to becoming a woman’. HAHAHAHA. If you haven’t mailed a card in the last 6 months, go out and do it. Make someones day, send it to someone who would least expect it.
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