Friday, November 30, 2007

Is it January yet?

Warning: The following post is a downer...

I want to rebel against the colossal monster named Christmas. I am not in the mood for Christmas this year, my crap happy 2007 has turned me off everything fake and jolly. In my opinion Christmas should be about chillaxin at home with your hubby and kids (if you have em) and not rushing around to make others happy, from whoville to youville and back again. Open gifts here, open them there, wrap em back up and do it again!

Then its time to heave your haul out the door and head off to get ready at your own little dwelling. Back around the circle, only this time to chow, and slap on the smiles and dig up the joy. This year I dont have it in me, I want to stay in bed, I dont want money spent on gifts and galore. I dont mind spending my loot on others, I like to see genuine smiles when they get what they want. It's all too much. The fuss, the food, the presents, the ornaments, the special table cloths, the chocolates, the stuffing, the drinking, the talking, the singing, the family spats, the dilemma about what to do with unsightly gifts. My husband doesnt get it, I just dont want the tree, the decorations are still doing their thing in the box in the dark under the stairs. Cant I just have this one Christmas off, so I dont have to fake it, and I can be happy?

Him and the others can do what they please, and know that I'm happy all snuggly and warm rolled up in my bed hanging out with the nearest bear. Just make sure I get a small plate of turkey and mashed potatoes, I can forget all the rest.
I guess this year you can call me the Grinch.

Monday, November 26, 2007

The greatest first dance

I got this great e-mail yesterday from a co-worker that is planning her wedding for this spring. She wants to try this at her wedding, and I honestly can’t believe I didn’t think of it for my own wedding.

What I am talking about ladies and gentlemen is the first dance. Yes we did the first dance, or what we like to call it; the first walk around the floor to a song with dumb smiles plastered on our faces. My lovely co-worker is also doing a first dance as well; I really don’t know anyone that doesn’t do a first dance.

This e-mail was a video from some wedding, somewhere; and I have to tell you the bride and groom obviously have one hell of a sense of humour! They start the dance out all nice and normal, mooshy even, when all of a sudden the music stops with the scratchy sound of a record; and as the bride and groom are making faces like "What the hell??" the music starts again, only this time it is Sir-Mix-A lots – Big Butts. What ensues is people laughing hysterically and the couple doing an "interpretive dance" along to the song. I love it! I laughed and laughed.
I did however have to break it to my lovely co-worker that there was no way on the face of this planet that she would be able to do that dance in the wedding dress that she has purchased. (Picture Cinderella times 2…) I’m not making it up, she has told me all about it, and I am very certain that it will be a beautiful dress; there is just no way that she would be able to pull that one off, well other than falling on her face, which is the way she pictured it going down if she even attempted it.

Ahhh, time to forward that awesome e-mail onto another friend that is getting married in the spring….lets see if she will do it!

Saturday, November 24, 2007

The tornado

Every weekend I put my heart and soul into cleaning my house, and by the next weekend it looks like a category 5 has ripped though it. I love a clean house, but my dear husband and I are not that good at keeping it that way throughout the week. I come home every day after work drop my stuff and make supper, I then eat supper and do a little work out or just watch a little television; take a bath and go to bed. I have no want to clean the house after work. By the weekend though the place is discusting and I get mad at us. PIGS!

A little 411 on the habits we have that I hate:

I am bad for not using the clothes hamper, I pile the dirty and not dirty on the floor of our bathroom in two neat little (ok big) piles. I also like to pile stuff on the floor of our laundry room (which everyone can see as soon as they walk in the door).

Oscar loves to undress when he comes in the door and leave his work close anywhere on the kitchen floor. He is a paper horder, you usually cant see one portion of our kitchen counter for all of the mail and paper he likes to pile there; as well as the computer desk and any other clear space he can find, like right now the floor next to the computer desk looks like it is becoming a clear favorite. I am not sure if he know what the dishwasher is for (no I know he does, he just never cares to check and see if its clean or dirty) therefore his dirty dishes pile up on the counter and sink, oh and right now the living room surfaces as well.

I know, I know I have a bigger list on Oscar, and I really could keep going, but I wont, because I'm pretty sure he has a list of things on me, yes perfect little old me but I dont know it and I dont care!

So all of the things listed above is all the crapola that I get to work on today, and tomorrow, and the next day. Wish me luck, I may never come back!

Thursday, November 22, 2007

My tramatic childhood...or not

So one of the other blogs that I read (Amy Lawson) was reminiscing about wacked out strange, and possibly scarring childhood memories, which got me to thinking back to my little girl years; and yes I do have a few memories that I feel like sharing today.

So I will start out with the time that my Dad decided to watch the movie The Fly, and had me sit on the couch with him and watch it too, only when there were scary parts Dad would tell me to cover my face with a pillow. I do honestly remember this very vividly and I bring it up every chance I can, to remind my dear Dad how wonderful his parenting skills were.

Oh and what about the time we were at the zoo, I think it was out in Hamilton, the location part is a bit fuzzy but that it not the point of the story. The real point of this story is the fact that good old Dad took me in to see the goats. It seems harmless, I mean its just little goats, but a damned goat stole my shoe while dad was holding me on his knee. I was none to pleased about it, in fact even today I have a fear of someone or something running off with my shoes.
Please feel free to share some moments that will forever stick with you from your childhood; like my Mom, who was tramatized because she tried to fit into her doll house and got stuck.....

Monday, November 19, 2007

Food Colouring

So there is this friend of ours, he is 40 and single and likes to have a good time at any given chance. Now another friend of ours moved in with him, and they are just room-mates. I will now give these people fake names to protect their identity; we will call him George and her Mary.

Now George like I said loves to have a good time, even if it is something as small as pulling small pranks (and this is why I get along with him so well). Now he is hatching what he thinks is a wonderful plan on how to scare the living crayola out of Mary. George goes into the local grocery store and comes out with 3 bottles of red food colouring, he jumps into his work truck and the guy riding with him says “what do you need that much food colouring for?” To which George replies “I’m going to put it all over my face, then hide behind Mary’s door and jump out and scare her.”

I will give you a moment to gather your thoughts…..

Now the guy riding with George is a married guy with kids, so he knows a thing or two about food colouring, and he immediately says to George, “That stuff doesn’t come off, it stains.” And as he is saying it he realizes it would have been much better if he had kept his mouth shut and enjoyed the view of George with a bright red face for weeks to come.

The other guy we will call Ryan, now realizes that he owes it to the world to share the story since he stopped George from actually playing a trick on himself rather than on Mary.
So I heard this story a few hours ago and I am still giggling to myself. I had to share the story with my favourite fellow practical joker (Dad) and he loved it, he said he would have censored himself immediately and told George it was a great idea, all the while knowing that George would need a skin graft to remove the dye.

Anyone hear the children’s story about the never come off until your dead and maybe even later markers?

Ahh this story is going to delight me for days.

Saturday, November 17, 2007

Christmas Maddness

Sewing, I really enjoy it, especially when there is really no pattern and I can sew scraps of whatever together to create gifts that people say they love but then stuff at the back of a closet. No matter to me, I believe it is the thought that counts.

What I’m getting at is the fact that for Christmas some of the lucky people in my life are getting special gifts, right from my heart. So they should not get their hopes up for beautiful gifts; like diamond earrings or Himalayan cat fur lined mittens or that latest doodad that guarantees you will loose weight by the time you manage to figure out where the belts go and get your head out of the hole that is actually for your left leg, and by then you should have a pretty good sweat on and lost all interest in the contraption that your sister saw on the shopping network and just knew you had to have.

Instead they will get pretty pillows and quaint quilts, so long as I don’t run out of fabric. I disappear to my “sewing room” every night when I get home from work to do a little bit more to each project. I am proud of myself that I am slowly chipping away at it instead of staying awake for a marathon sewing weekend like I have been known to do. However it is the weekend so I can’t promise anything.

Next on my list of things I love to do to myself around this time of year is bake cookies, and I mean bake cookies my friends. I bake until I can’t bake anymore, and until I want to puke because I have sampled all of the dough and then all of the cookies as they come out of the oven. I am not one of the people who put on the holiday weight at Christmas; I put on my winter insulation at the end of November. Why do I bake so many cookies you ask? Because I have come to learn that grandparents prefer good old home baking for gifts rather than some shiny thinger majig that they have no idea what it is or what it is for. Instead they like cookies that they can eat at coffee time two times a day. I have 4 sets of grandparents to make cookies for, and then some of them I have to stick in the mail. I cant even up and just decide to quit the baking, because I am pretty darned sure that the grandparents will revolt against me. I am ok with it though I would rather bake cookies than try to find something to buy them. I am what you would call a “Suzy home maker” but I don’t exactly like to clean the mess…..

So I have a few people on the Christmas shopping list that I am completely and utterly stumped about what to get them for Christmas. One is Oscar’s sister, she is very pregnant at this point and I don’t really want to get her clothes; usually she is so easy to shop for, her and I like the same things and see an item and just know that we will like it. I guess I just need to think really hard, I want to make it a good gift. The other person on the list is her husband, he is always rather hard to shop for and I am completely at a loss right now. Maybe I will have to crochet him a nice toque; however crocheting is not something I am very good at.

Oh, I just thought of what I would love to get Rach for her Christmas present, but I cant tell, I would have to kill you.

Friday, November 16, 2007

List master

I have an obsession with making check lists; lists of all kinds and I cant just compile a list in my head like others do, I write every single list down on scraps of paper. I will make a list just so I know what I will do on a Saturday.

clean bathroom
make cookies and eat them all
Vacuum up the crumbs
Have a nap
take a bath

Or lists in my day timer at work

1. print work orders
2. hide under my desk
3. lock myself in the bathroom for an hour
4. glare at at least 3 people today

I think these kind of lists are normal sort of lists, but I make other kinds of lists too. Like what kinds of chocolate I plan on eating this week.

Monday – Snickers
Tuesday – Kit Kat
Wednesday – Skor
Thursday – Milky Way
Friday – crushed up chocolate in heaping bowl of ice cream

I make lists about the gifts I will give for Christmas; here is my rough draft for this year:

Mom – pack of socks
Dad – pad of post its
Kelsey – 3 loaves of bread
Oscar – big fat 0
Oscars Mom – frying pan (and seriously she asks for one every year)
Oscars Dad – bottle of ketchup

The list goes on but I am just brainstorming at this point.

I even make a list when I go to town of what places I want to go; of course everyone makes a grocery list. I have that one tucked safely in my pocket, but I also have a list that says things like:
Mall :
New shirt
Orange Julius
Congratulations card for Aunt Lorna’s wart removal

Tim Hortons:
Ice Capp
BLT on brown

Drug store:
Hair removal cream
Milk of magnesia
Eye liner
rubber gloves

You see where I am going with this? I have a horrible memory, I have to write it all down or I miss half of my stuff. I ask Oscar to remember to pick me up things and it’s a little sketchy, sometime I get everything, sometimes I get nothing and he hauls bags and bags of goodies for himself into the house. Or there is my Dad, who would be given a list of three, three simple items to remember; well he was usually good at bringing home three things, but most of the time only one of the items would be correct. At least he knew he needed three things.

Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Things have been rough

I have been MIA for a while, to make a long story short; (a lot of) work sucks, and stressing me out. There for I have been way down in the land where we hold pity parties. Lots of things swirling around my head, and my dear husband decided to whisk me away to Montana for the weekend.
It is so funny, because in one way we (Canadians) are a lot like our neighbors, but in so many ways we are not.

Their money looks like play money (which I already knew but I wanted to mention that point).

Another thing I knew before, and really makes no sense to me is that they do not have Iced Tea….you know plain old iced tea, like the yummy Nestea or any other brand for that matter. When we went out for supper they did have Nestea raspberry iced tea. It is weird to me, makes no sense.

Their McNugget sweet and sour dipping sauce is different, in a subtle way, that only a McNugget connoisseur like myself would notice. Not that it was gross it was just different.

Another thing that I already know but is hilarious to me is the fact that to us it is pop, to them it is soda, and you can confuse some of them very easily if you ask for a pop.

They worship their Starbucks like we worship our Tim Hortons, and the entire time I was there I wanted a sweet sweet iced cap. I had to do with a peppermint white chocolate mocha. See here at home we can go with a double double, or a black, or a simple mocha or anything that sounds simple. Oh and we order in small, medium, large and extra large. They have to do it all out and have the grande and I don’t know the others cause that is the only size I order when I go to starbucks.

Those are just a few things I noticed on the weekend to Montana.

Wednesday, November 7, 2007

I would like thank the academy

I would like to take a moment to thank all of my friends and family for sending me all the forwarded e-mails over the year(s).

I must send my thanks to whoever sent me the e-mail about poop in the glue on envelopes because I now have to use a wet towel on every envelope that needs sealing. I now also have to scrub the top of every can I open for the same reason.

I no longer have any savings because I gave it to a sick girl who is about to die in the hospital for the 1,387,258th time.

I no longer have any money at all, but that will change once I receive the $15,000 that Bill Gates/Microsoft and AOL are sending me for participating in their special e-mail program.

I no longer worry about my soul because I have 363,214 angels looking out for me, some of them very hot men with angel wings attached, others cutesy little cartoon angels.

I no longer eat KFC because their chickens are actually horrible mutant freaks with no eyes or feathers.

I no longer use cancer-causing deodorants even though I smell like a bag of garbage that has been sitting out on a hot day.

Thanks to you, I have learned that my prayers only get answered if I forward an email to seven of my friends and make a wish within five minutes; otherwise I will be bound to hell for 6 years.

Because of my loving friends concern I no longer drink Coca Cola because it can remove toilet stains.

I no longer can buy gasoline without taking someone along to watch the Jeep so a serial killer won't crawl in my back seat when I'm pumping gas. Heaven forbid I fill my vehicle up in the dark, the boogie man bay snatch me.

I no longer use Saran wrap in the microwave because it causes cancer.

I no longer check the coin return on pay phones because I could be pricked with a needle infected with AIDS.

I no longer go to shopping malls because someone will drug me with a perfume sample and rob me (no matter though I have no money left, cause I gave it to that forever dying girl).

I no longer answer the phone because someone will ask me to dial a number for which I will get a phone bill with calls to Jamaica, Uganda, Singapore, and Uzbekistan.

Thanks to you, I can't use anyone's toilet but mine because a big brown African spider is lurking under the seat to cause me instant death when it bites my behind.

And thanks to my Aunts great advice, I can't ever pick up $5.00 I dropped in the parking lot because it probably was placed there by a sex molester waiting underneath my car to grab my leg.

One more; thanks to my Mom today, and about five other friends in the past few years who have sent me the warning about a gang game coming across Canada. This is about the third time this “initiation game” that they play on the highways late at night has made it to our province. Just so you all know I will now drive everywhere with only my high beams on, sorry everyone!

Sunday, November 4, 2007

The wheels on the bus go round and round....

I am sure everyone out there has a commercial at one time or another that drives them to the edge. To the edge of throwing something through the t.v. that is.

Right now I happen to have one of those commercials, it makes me insane, I want to rip my hair out, scream, run around the house and pee my pants. The commercial we are talking about right now is some damned Volvo thing.

Ok, we need a bit of back history first; when I was younger (like all people I know), you know the cute kid with pig tails (me not any of you). Most people have a childhood rhyme or song or something that they hated then and they hate now. Well for me it is the “wheels on the bus” song. This god forsaken commercial uses that song!

The commercial itself isn’t all bad, its got a guy and a girl driving their beloved Volvo all over hells half acre up and down hills for no apparent reason; picking up people/hitch hikers they may or may not know, who happen to be standing in the middle of nowhere with all the gear they need to do an activity of some kind. They go down a hill, then up a hill here there and everywhere. Well they felt the need to use the “wheels on the bus” song and just conveniently plug in some of the things they are trying to show off about this car.

I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I need some sort of restraints put on me; this or I am going to write a hate letter to Volvo. Hey that sounds like a great idea, anyone have their address?

Friday, November 2, 2007

How to tell it is Friday

I work at the same company as my dad, so we both ended up on the coveted Christmas Party committee. I am of course lying to you it is not a coveted committee, in fact it is the insufferable committee.

I e-mailed the group to see how their “assigned jobs” jobs have been going. You know men, I am the only woman on the committee, therefore I must hand out assignments and checks up to assure things are getting done.

I wanted to share with you the wackiness of my Dad, especially on a Friday. Read below our very interesting correspondence.

Hi guys, I am just wondering how everything is coming along with the jobs that everyone has, this is just a reminder so that you look at your items! Please let me know how things are going.

Dad writes back:

I have no idea what I am going to do.

So I let him know,

Old age?? Your games for curling…you and I are to come up with door prizes.

He decided to let his true self shine through this morning:

Windsor Plywood has a good selection of doors, but I think Totem is cheaper by a longshot. Are we giving away solid doors or foam core doors.

What? I thought to myself as I read it:

You are such a dork…however I am laughing at my desk and people are looking at me like I have just lost it.

That didn’t phase him one bit he pushed ahead:

Why is everyone laughing. I don’t get it. Anyhow, are we going to throw in the Satin Brass or Shiny Brass locksets with the doors. This will make the door prizes much more attractive than just a plain door with a lockset hole drilled in it. Hmm, could also throw in brass plated hinges.

What do I say to that? I decided to play along.

No no-one likes brass these days…everyone likes the silver. Oh and it has to be a fancy handle.

Now he begins to get really whacko:

I just got to thinking. Brass thingy doo's may be beyond the scope of our budget. Could I suggest maybe them little door knocker whatchacallum's. You can get them cheaply at Doors N Things down in Ascratch ,Saskabush.

It was too funny I couldn’t respond, I left it at that. I also know that my Dad was sitting at his desk giggling to himself.

Happy Friday!

I cant get my picture to load, but I promise there will be a good one when I get it to work.