Weekend Update... but sadly, not the one with Tina Fey or Norm MacDonald even.

This will be a much shorter post than I had originally anticipated as I have roughly five minutes to throw a quick post up while I finish my coffee before I have to head into the bathroom, pretty myself up a bit and head out for another FUN-filled week at work.

Friday night, after getting the Sunday newsletters to bed, I went for a quick drink with my fellow co-workers.  Fun, and something that should be done more often I think.  Couldn't stick around long as I had a previous engagement to go thrift-store shopping with one of my best friends.  I scavenged for parts to my halloween costume, which came to me through Pinterest at the last second and managed to pick up a winter jacket and some curtains for my front window so I can stop flashing the neighbours.  As per usual, K and I ended up reducing ourself to giggling fits to the amusement of the Goodwill staff with our running commentary regarding some of the more... um... 'unique' and 'vintage' finds.

For dinner we went to a nearby East Side Mario's where my menu had gunk on it and our waiter threw coasters at us and hovered while we tried to decide.  It was disconcerting, this manner.  He was not an incompetent waiter.. all our order arrived in a timely manner and as requested.  But so aggressive! It was like he was waitering AT us.  Not the most impressive restaurant experience I've had.

Saturday was a day of coffee and cuddles and relaxing and not getting much of anything done.  Wouldn't have done it any other way.  That night I travelled to Toronto with Tess to Toronto to see the Mountain Goats in concert.  I have written previously my love for this band so you know this was very exciting for me.

See the excitement? My phone is shit and I don't have a working camera right now, so this is what you get for pictures.

The show was not disappointing (aside from the fact that the Phoenix is sorely lacking in seating of any kind so my legs were not happy the next day).  John Darnielle - with whom I got to meet and speak briefly - comes across on stage as someone who not only is happy with what he does, but genuinely excited... like 'Holy shit I can't believe I get to do this for a living' excited when he performs.

They played a number of newer songs, along with older tracks that I recognized as well.  J.D. also manages to engage the audience, telling stories and interacting and improvising.  There were a few tunes I got the impression had been made up on the spot.  If that's the case... wow.  Just wow.  Amazing.

The night ended with 'No Children' which, anyone who goes to Open Mike night knows, is probably my favorite tune of theirs.  An excellent choice for the end of night sing-along.

Oh dear.  I've gone way past my time limit.  Gotta go throw my face on.

Tootles, all.

I have an axe to grind..

.. okay, so it's more of a hatchet.

Started on my yard work today after a miscommunication resulted in my afternoon opening up.  A whack of smaller trees on the back of the property fell down so Reegs and I spent an hour or so dragging the broken limbs over to the fire pit.  Unfortunately, some of the fallen branches are too thick for me to break down into smaller chunks by hand, so I'll need to chop them.  Right now my rusty little hatchet is about as threatening as a Nerf bat.

I also managed to fashion a working leaf rake out of the two leaf rakes that got broken last fall, due to neglect.  So I'm a handy-freakin' woman.  I've also managed to make banana muffins, a big batch of spaghetti sauce and completed a backdrop for Tee's play for school.  They're doing 50 Below Zero, based on the book by Robert Munsch and needed a background for the outdoor scene.  Since I'm pretty sucky on that whole 'volunteer-parent' thing, I thought "Hey, this is somewhere I can contribute!"

I don't mind saying, I'm pretty pleased with how it turned out.

So the moral of the story, I should let the kids have friends over more often, because when they're occupied, I get shit DONE.

I welcomed back clothesline season by doing about six thousand loads of laundry.  Two weeks worth of clothes, plus two loads of sheets and a couple of comforters.  I've even got lunches ready to go for tomorrow.  I have to call the insurance company tomorrow to see what the freakin' deal is with my car, because it's been over two weeks and I'm still driving the rental around.

Unexpected visit from the most recent ex, who was in the area visiting friends.  It was.. pleasant.  I dunno, for the first time since everything really went to shit, I felt like we might actually be able to maintain a friendship.. one that doesn't fuck with me emotionally but rather one where we really are just friends, nothing else.

I've been blogwarded by Bruce at Just Another Day In Paradise

I recently came to the conclusion that my blog suffers a bit of an identity crisis as it does not know whether it wants to be a humour blog, a feminist blog, a mommy blog, a music blog, a creative writing/poetry blog or what.  I'm pretty all over the place.  But if others want to call that 'versatile' well who am I to correct them, right?  So thanks Bruce!

The Rules:

7 randoms about me.  These get harder to come up with.  I've also found this in conversation.. being prevalent on the interwebs means I have no material for face-to-face conversations and small talk.

"Did I tell you I...?"  "Yeah, you blogged/posted on Facebook/tweeted about it last week."

Hoo boy.  Random facts.

1. I think Crocs are great for kids but grown-ups who wear them should be throat-punched.
2. I will use a men's washroom (single-occupancy) if no women's washroom is available, because I refuse to let my bladder be a slave to social condition.
3. About 85% of the women on my mothers side look exactly alike or with variations on the same theme.  You could make a template out of us.
4. My favourite book is Hugh MacLennan's The Watch That Ends the Night.  I read it after seeing an interview with The Tragically Hip where they said that the third verse for the song Courage was basically ripped from that book.
5. I once named a cat Chino Moreno, after the singer for the Deftones

Sorry folks, five is all you get. I'm going to hold off on passing this on too, because I'm tired and I get all worried that A) I'm going to insult someone by leaving them out or B) I may pass this on to someone who is not prepared to take on the awesome responsibility of blog award recipiency.

Taking a page from Lance over at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog, I'll leave all y'all with a little tune.  This is a live version of Courage, because I can only get the official video through that stupid Vevo thing that tacks a friggin' 40 second commercial at the beginning.  Besides, watching Gord Downie perform live is usually a thing of beauty.

"You look like a wallet in the street.  You look that good."

When Life Makes Decisions for You

I don't even like chicken wings.

After the demise of our respective marriages, my sister and I shared a house for about two years.  For the first year, she went to school while I took care of our four children while I was on maternity leave.  I was not well suited to daycare, so when my one-year leave was up, my good friend Crystal, who has much more patience for children than I, joined our household as a live-in nanny as it was a hell of a lot easier than shipping four kids of varying ages out to daycare.

After the ex-hub and I split, I immediately got my name on a waiting list for subsidized housing, knowing that it would be difficult at best to raise two children on a convenience store clerk, and later student budget.  We lived in the house for a little under two years, until fate unexpectedly set in.

It was an unusually warm day in April.  I had finished writing my first year Psychology exam that morning and had rushed home to look at an apartment, as my name had finally come to the top of the housing list.  Here, you are allowed to turn down three available units before they drop you back to the bottom of the waiting list.  I had already turned down a place six months previous on account of our obligation to the unspoken 'lease' we had with my parents.

The apartment was lovely... three bedrooms, two bathrooms, well kept building.  But I was unsure about moving to Midland, when I would be going to school in Barrie.  Would it be better, perhaps, to hold out and see if a place became available in Barrie?  The building manager told me I could think it over, as there was one other person looking at the place, but they too were unsure for whatever reasons.

That evening, we sat out on the front porch, debating what to do for dinner that night.  It was a warm, lazy Friday and no one much felt like cooking anything elaborate, but pizza seemed well.. blah.  The suggestion of chicken wings was brought up.  Inwardly I groaned, but being self-aware of my picky eating habits and how they might be unfair to others, I just kind of shrugged and went 'meh, whatever'.

I was downstairs with the smaller children when I heard the sound.  Nicky was on the front porch studying, and Crystal and Steve (my sisters boyfriend at the time) were in the kitchen, along with my oldest nephew.  My Reagan, about 18 months old at the time, had wandered up the stairs. In a house with four adults and three older children, I figured she couldn't get into too much trouble.

It sounded like a splash - a horrific, sickening splash - and my first thought was that my beautiful toddler had pulled the pot of hot oil down on herself.  I paused in sheer terror, waiting for the screaming... there was a scream, but it came from my oldest nephew as he ran out the front door.  I believed the worst.  I heard nothing from Reagan and  it then to me that not only was she horribly burned and disfigured, but that she was dead.  I broke from my paralysis and came up the stairs to the front landing, and heaved a sigh of relief upon seeing her standing at the front door, babbling to herself, completely unharmed.

However, out of the corner of my eye, up the second short flight of stairs, I saw the flames.

I grabbed Reegs and quite literally picked her up and tossed her onto the front lawn, before running back down to the basement to herd the other children out the back door.  I ordered them to go around to the front of the house and wait there.  I ran back into the house and into the kitchen where Crystal stood in front of a giant flaming stock pot of doom, flames licking the ducts over the stove.  She was already on the phone with the fire department.  Steve had grabbed the birdcage and met Nicky outside with the children.

Panicked, I grabbed a box of baking soda, because they say to put baking soda on grease fires to put them out.  This, however, was less a simple grease fire and more an raging inferno at this point.   Like a lunatic, I threw handfuls of baking soda at the flames that were now licking the ceiling.  The soda sizzled as it hit the flames.  Crystal stayed on the line with the fire department as long as possible, but gave up when the portable phone's cradle caught fire.   As cupboard doors began to blacken and ceiling tiles began to curl and drop to the floor, there was nothing left to do.

We ran.

From the street we watched the smoke billow from the windows.  I could hear glass popping as the immense heat shattered mugs, drinking glasses, and windows. The roughly three and a half minutes it took the volunteer department to arrive stretched out like an eternity.  We stood in the road and stared.  And cried.  We called our parents and told them of the fire and we cried some more.

Later, scrounging through the wreckage, I found a lone pink circle amidst the otherwise soot-black carpet where our cat had curled up in the smoke when she couldn't find her way out.  And I cried some more.

Needless to say, I took the apartment.  And I still don't like chicken wings.

************************************************************

This post was written for Studio30Plus weekly writing challenge.  The prompt is "Irony".

Rip-snortin' ass-kickin' Sunday Round-up

Pretty darn good.  That's probably my best way to describe this weekend.  No complaints here.

Friday night I picked up some Sushi for dinner at the local RCSS, and since they've changed the delivery day to Friday, it was very very fresh.  I really want to go out for actual restaurant sushi but I'm good with grocery store grade in the meantime.

Headed down to the Legion for karaoke with mom and Sharon.  Dad was already there for darts.  I haven't been out since before Christmas so I was having some withdrawal.  Ended up having a blast and getting some work out of the deal.  Looks like I might have a gig hosting the karaoke night on my kid-free Fridays.  I go in on the 11th so that Lance, our current KJ can train me on the equipment.  Pretty awesome.  Some extra cash to go towards my house-downpayment-fund for two nights work a month, for being where I might already be any given Friday.  Can't beat that.

Speaking of house hunting, mortgage calculators of the ilk that you find on real estate sites are bullshit, and depressing as hell.  According to the mortgage calculator, I can afford roughly $278 a month for a mortgage (which puts me at about $38,000 for a house.  I can't get a mobile home for that little around here).  I pay $700 bucks a month rent, plus hydro and I am not behind on my bills, and I'm managing to pay down my debt so CLEARLY I can afford more than $278 a month for a mortgage.

So eat me, mortgage calculator.

Back to happier things.  While at the Legion a group of about 10 snowmobilers/cottagers from Strathroy come walking in, most of them around my age (couple older dudes, and at least one paperboy).  My first thought, as one of the youngest available women in the Legion was "Oh! Hello Boys! Happy Birthday to Me!"

Normally I'm about as socially awkward as they come but on Friday, whether it was the beer or just a general sense of well-being and oneness with the world coupled with just feeling like holy-shit-I-am-one-hawt-mamma I was kind of on that night and lapping up the attention, especially from one of the cuter guys, who bought me a beer and asked for a dance.  He was a riot, and we spun and twirled and made clumsy attempts at dipping while his friends hooted and hollered and we all sang along to any given songs.  What a fun bunch they were, and I was feeling full of confidence.

Saturday I got up and went into town to take some clothes to the Salvation army and attempted to find a plain wood frame I to use for this print that I bought at the craft sale I did a few weeks back.  I can't for the life of me remember the photographer's name but if I remember it I will link back. In the meantime, please, no one steal this image, kay?  I'd feel really bad if you did.   'preciate it.  I just want a plain wood frame so I can paint it.  I'm thinking either red with white polka dots, or black with white polka dots.

Got a source now - Corey Ramsbottom Photography

Saturday afternoon I went ice skating with my friend Tessa and her boyfriend and her kids.  My ankles felt like jelly and I think I need to invest in some hockey skates.  I think they'd be more conducive to my skating style than the figure skates I currently have.   We left soon after Tess fell and bruised her arm pretty good, which was unfortunate and quite surprising since Vegas odds would be on me being the one that wiped out, but I miraculously didn't fall once.

Saturday night I grabbed my guitar and headed to the local church for their coffee house night.  I showed up a bit late so as a result I was dead-last on the roster, but I held out and managed to get a few songs in.

Here's what I played:

When I Come Back - NQ Arbuckle and Carolyn Mark (I posted a vid of myself playing this a while back.  You can see it here)

I Make the Dough, You Get the Glory - Kathleen Edwards (I've always kind of considered her a poor-man's Sarah Harmer, but I enjoy this tune a lot.)


Tina's Glorious Comeback - Dan Mangan (Future Husband and Stepfather to my children.  I wish.)

If You're Gonna Be Dumb You Gotta Be Tough - Karen O (This song is fun as hell to play)

Just a little Open Mic Ettiquette 101.  Everyone wants a chance to play.  If the mode number of songs people are playing is four, it might be poor form to play seven,  you know?

Because I was very last on the bill, I was a little late to catch the free show being put on by Run With The Kittens at one of the local restaurants, but I did manage to make it about halfway through their first set.  I've never actually heard of them before, but I found them enjoyable.  Their sound is an odd mix of experimental sounds and blues-based rock.  When I listened to them, all I could think of was the Moldy Peaches tune Downloading Porn with Davo (NSFW people).  Later I found a similarity to catl as well.

Sadly, although a great restaurant, I found the Explorer's Cafe lacking as a live music venue.  Lacking space to move, that is, so I left at the intermission as my claustrophobic tendencies were making me a bit twitchy.

Today was laundry and grocery shopping day.  I met up with my mom and sister at the seventh circle of hell and promtly informed them that I was totally compromising my principles just to hang out with them, because I rarely shop at Wal-Mart if I can avoid it.

Feeling accomplished as I managed to make both Jello and Rice Krispie Squares for the girls lunches. Making them homemade is way cheaper than buying these things. A box of Jello costs about 69 cents and makes around six servings.. a pack of jello cups is about 2.99 and they have four.

With a box of Rice Krispies (4.99), three bags of marshmallows (@1.27 each, so $3.75 let's say) and a half pound of butter (1.50) you can make 4-6 dozen rice Krispie squares.  A box of 8 individually wrapped ones are about 2.99.  Plus by making the stuff, you get around the litterless lunch manifesto of the schools.

Don't get me wrong,  I love the idea of a litterless lunch, and we should all do our parts to cut down on garbage.  But telling a kid to take a granola bar out of it's wrapper and bring it in a container is bullshit.  And I doubt the school is going to come to my house and wash all my bloody plastic containers.  So I tell the girls "No, it's not litterless, but it's still less litter."

home made is nice but sometimes I like to leave food prep to the professionals

I'm at the grocery store, and I'm looking for guacamole.  This is a FoodBasics, so it's not like a high-end grocery store.  I check the aisle with all the dips and such and find nothing.  So I head to produce because sometimes they have dressings and stuff.

Me:  Do you know where I might find guacamole?
Stockboy #1: Hmm.. i'm just produce, so I'm not really sure, but I can ask someone.  We do have avocadoes if you want to make your own.

I've made my own guacamole before, and it turns out I'm not very good at it.

Me: I've made my own, I'm pretty bad at it.  Rather just buy it pre-mixed.

I follow the guy about 6 aisles over to another guy.  They discuss.

Stockboy #2:  Are you the lady that needs help?
Me: Yup, sure am.
Stockboy #2:  Here, follow me.

I follow him back to the first aisle that I check.  He scans the shelves.  Looks perplexed. 

Stockboy #2:  *sighs dramatically* They've moved it.  Hold on a second.

Leaves, coverses with a woman in the bread section.  Returns.

Stockboy #2:  So it turns out we don't carry guacamole anymore.  We used to but now we don't.  We have avocados though, if you want to make your own.
Me: I've made my own, I'm pretty bad at it.  Okay, thanks anyway.

Take the girls to the check out.  Explain that we'll be going to another store after this.

Me: We'll go to Foodland after this, they'll have some.
Cashier:  Was there something you weren't able to find.
Me:  Yeah, guacamole.  You guys don't carry it apparently.
Cashier:  Oh.

Pause.

Cashier:  We have avocados.

Me:  ....

I am it.

I've been food blog tagged. 10 interesting food facts about me.


1) I'm ridiculously picky eater. Some people are overwieght because they love food. I am because I hate a lot of food. Most of it is the stuff that is good for me.

2) I was shocked the first time someone told me that peanut butter and banana was an odd combination. I always figured they went together naturally like snow and ice.

3) Last year I counted the number of hot dog carts in Midland. There were five. That's like 1 for every 5,000 people. It seems like a lot to me.

4) Considering my incredibly picky nature, it boggles my loved ones to no end that I love sushi.

5) I love cheerios. I stock up and buy 3-4 boxes at a time.

6) I cannot keep cheez whiz in the house. It's like crack in a jar. Instead I have it on toast when I go to my parents.

7) my fridge is not complete without polskie ogorki pickles.

8) The most common meals in my house are tacos and spagetti.

9) I recently acquired a taste for salad. I would never touch it before.

10) During my second pregnancy I craved philadephia dill pickle dip. I used to get free chips from work, and so I'd buy the dip, and when I ran out of chips, i just ate the dip with my finger.

The best advice you will EVER GET.

1. Don't grocery shop while Hungry
2. Don't go without a list
3. Definitely, do not EVER combine these two mistakes...



I don't know what Hoisin Sauce is, but I have some now.

The chicken wings of mass destruction.

So it seems (as I have been informed by my sister and Cromsie) that next Tuesday marks the one-year anniversary to when our house was gutted by fire. Can't believe I forgot.

I think we all still carry some guilt for that day. All of us for agreeing that deep frying in a pot on the stove sounded like a good idea (HA!) Croms, obviously, as she was cooking. Nicky for suggesting chicken wings and me for not saying "FUCK YOU GUYS! I HATE CHICKEN WINGS"

Yup, if I had a little more backbone, we'd may have had a little less flamage.

Anyhoo, we're gonna commemorate the occasion by going for Pizza and chicken wings. The wings to symbolize the thing that started it all, and pizza to symbolize what we should have had for dinner that night.

In other news, I have one more section of my stats paper, then one paper after that. It's almost over.

Oh yeah, and I think I believe in love at first sight now. Or at the very least, lust.