A few quick thoughts after spending the day shopping with my girls (a rare treat indeed).
- nothing emphasizes how badly our local mall sucks than going to an out of town mall. Really, our mall sucks.
- I hope that my girls remain as enthusiastic about bathing suit shopping as they are right now. I hope it never becomes an experience they dread, fraught with self-loathing and shame, like it does for so many women.
- What's a surefire way to dissuade me from spending money in an awesomely huge candy store the likes of which I've never seen? Tell me 10% of proceeds go towards sending missionaries to India. Colonialism makes the sweetest candy taste bitter.
- Pro-tip for customer service people. It's cool to tell someone their discount card is no longer valid, has expired or whatever. What's not cool is disbelieving it ever was valid and implying that the customer is either stupid or a liar. "I don't believe that ever happened," makes just such an implication. It's too bad, because I liked those pants and would have liked to buy them, except I don't spend money in places that insult me to my face, okay Addition-Elle?
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Showing posts with label shopping. Show all posts
Saturday, April 27, 2013
Sunday, April 21, 2013
Gah. It begins.
My eldest spawn will be 12 in a month. She operates under the delusion that the digits are reversed and she's actually 21. For her age, she is a pretty confident with her self-image and has a pretty experimental sense of style.
This sounds awesome, but as the parent who has to step in and remind her that she is still only 11, it can be fraught.
The teen years are approaching and I fear its arrival the way others have feared Y2K or the end of the Mayan calendar. And like the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, various signs rear their head, signalling impending doom.
I took her and her stepsister (only a few months younger) shopping today. With their own money. When it's my money I usually have more control over clothing choices, usually by harness the power of being really, really cheap.
My kid has a predilection towards clothes that are not always age-appropriate. See aforementioned "12-going-on-21" thing. The challenge I find is explaining why something is inappropriate without resorting to shaming or telling her she's going to look like Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver.
In the period of less than an hour I found myself having to talk my not-yet-twelve year old out of:
- Neon pink short-shorts. This was easy enough to argue, since closer inspection revealed we were in the size 4-6x section. She's a 12. Easy Peasy
- 3-inch spike heels. Vetoed on the basis that heels are really, really bad for you. I have no doubt they fuck up the spine and legs of any grown woman. I don't even want to think of what those kind of heels would do to someone who is still growing.
- A yellow string bikini. Oof. I sputtered and stammered at that one and suggested trying some other styles. The other styles were all more expensive (probably due to the greater amount of fabric) and thus out of her limited price range. Finally, I appealed to her sense of broke-assedness and reminded her that I had already planned to take her and her sister bathing suit shopping next weekend. What kid wants to spend their own money on something mom was going to buy them anyway? She reluctantly put the suit back. Near miss on that one.
This is what I'm dealing with already and we haven't even hit high school yet. Gord help us all.
This sounds awesome, but as the parent who has to step in and remind her that she is still only 11, it can be fraught.
The teen years are approaching and I fear its arrival the way others have feared Y2K or the end of the Mayan calendar. And like the four horsemen of the Apocalypse, various signs rear their head, signalling impending doom.
I took her and her stepsister (only a few months younger) shopping today. With their own money. When it's my money I usually have more control over clothing choices, usually by harness the power of being really, really cheap.
My kid has a predilection towards clothes that are not always age-appropriate. See aforementioned "12-going-on-21" thing. The challenge I find is explaining why something is inappropriate without resorting to shaming or telling her she's going to look like Jodie Foster in Taxi Driver.
In the period of less than an hour I found myself having to talk my not-yet-twelve year old out of:
- Neon pink short-shorts. This was easy enough to argue, since closer inspection revealed we were in the size 4-6x section. She's a 12. Easy Peasy
- 3-inch spike heels. Vetoed on the basis that heels are really, really bad for you. I have no doubt they fuck up the spine and legs of any grown woman. I don't even want to think of what those kind of heels would do to someone who is still growing.
- A yellow string bikini. Oof. I sputtered and stammered at that one and suggested trying some other styles. The other styles were all more expensive (probably due to the greater amount of fabric) and thus out of her limited price range. Finally, I appealed to her sense of broke-assedness and reminded her that I had already planned to take her and her sister bathing suit shopping next weekend. What kid wants to spend their own money on something mom was going to buy them anyway? She reluctantly put the suit back. Near miss on that one.
This is what I'm dealing with already and we haven't even hit high school yet. Gord help us all.
Wednesday, November 14, 2012
Gender Essentialism in Your Stocking This Christmas
This showed up on my Pinterest feed yesterday:
It's a list of stocking stuffer ideas for Christmas, by age. I groaned inwardly when I saw that it was divided into a list for boys and one for girls. Then I got a little optimistic when I saw that the first half-dozen or so items on the list were identical. Play dough, art supplies, bubbles, stickers.. I can totally get behind this list.
And then as I continued to scroll down, my heart dropped with an almost audible sitcom trombone chorus - You know the one... wah wah waah waaaaah. About six or seven lines down, we get to the inevitable. Cars and action figures for boys, dolls and jewellery for girls.
*sigh*
Can we step out of our boxes for a minute and consider the fact that some little girls just might enjoy playing with cars? Or maybe there are little boys that enjoy playing with dolls?
I know many people will jump up with "But My Daughter LIKES dolls! My Son Likes Trucks! They wouldn't WANT to play with trucks/dolls!" That's awesome. Really, it is.
Your kid is not EVERY kid.
How many kids out there aren't getting what they would really like for Christmas because lists like these reinforce gender stereotypes that dictate what toys are appropriate for what gender? I'm not even going to get into the assumption of a gender binary here, because people tend to lose their shit when faced with the suggestion that a kid may be anything more than all-boy or all-girl.
What I wonder is why the creator of this image couldn't have amalgamated these items into one list and done away with the unnecessary gendering of sunglasses, jewellery, Nerf Guns and Barrels of Monkeys?
Speaking as a former little girls I, for one, LOVED Barrel of Monkeys. It was a goddamned barrel of FUN.
UPDATE: So last night I posted a comment on the blog where this image originally came from asking, very diplomatically, why split the list into boys/girls, since parents clearly would already know whether their kids were into dolls or trucks, regardless of gender. I wish I had taken a screen cap, because I went back to see if there was a response and my comment has been deleted. I followed up, although I doubt my response will garner a response.
There's also a disclaimer at the top of the blog now asking not to leave harsh comments regarding the splitting of the lists into boys/girls. That may or may not have been there before I commented. I hadn't really paid attention, so if it was already there, my bad.
 |
| Source |
And then as I continued to scroll down, my heart dropped with an almost audible sitcom trombone chorus - You know the one... wah wah waah waaaaah. About six or seven lines down, we get to the inevitable. Cars and action figures for boys, dolls and jewellery for girls.
*sigh*
Can we step out of our boxes for a minute and consider the fact that some little girls just might enjoy playing with cars? Or maybe there are little boys that enjoy playing with dolls?
I know many people will jump up with "But My Daughter LIKES dolls! My Son Likes Trucks! They wouldn't WANT to play with trucks/dolls!" That's awesome. Really, it is.
Your kid is not EVERY kid.
How many kids out there aren't getting what they would really like for Christmas because lists like these reinforce gender stereotypes that dictate what toys are appropriate for what gender? I'm not even going to get into the assumption of a gender binary here, because people tend to lose their shit when faced with the suggestion that a kid may be anything more than all-boy or all-girl.
What I wonder is why the creator of this image couldn't have amalgamated these items into one list and done away with the unnecessary gendering of sunglasses, jewellery, Nerf Guns and Barrels of Monkeys?
Speaking as a former little girls I, for one, LOVED Barrel of Monkeys. It was a goddamned barrel of FUN.
UPDATE: So last night I posted a comment on the blog where this image originally came from asking, very diplomatically, why split the list into boys/girls, since parents clearly would already know whether their kids were into dolls or trucks, regardless of gender. I wish I had taken a screen cap, because I went back to see if there was a response and my comment has been deleted. I followed up, although I doubt my response will garner a response.
There's also a disclaimer at the top of the blog now asking not to leave harsh comments regarding the splitting of the lists into boys/girls. That may or may not have been there before I commented. I hadn't really paid attention, so if it was already there, my bad.
Tuesday, November 6, 2012
Wherein an era comes to a close, and customer service flies out the window.
So annoyed right about now.
I went to pick up the girls only to be informed that the youngest's indoor shoes, which I bought not more than two months ago, were broken and in need of replacing. It seemed a good idea to take them back to Zellers and ask for a refund because in no universe should a pair of children's runners fall apart after two lousy months. She never even wore them outside.
Zellers used to offer a "Kidurable" guarantee on all of their children's wear. If they wore it out before they outgrew it, then they'd replace it. Since I still had the receipt, I figured piece of cake.
Yeah, except that not too long ago, Zellers got bought out by Target and now all the locations are either in the process of becoming Target or, if you live in an area that is economically depressed and already has a Walmart such as we do, being liquidated and closed down. One of the first steps was saying "effyoo" to the Kidurable guarantee.
No, wait it gets better.
So because the shoes are no longer guaranteed I have only the option of exchanging them for a new pair. Which would be awesome, if there were more than, oh say, two pairs in the kids size available. And two of those pairs cost about twice as much as the original pair. We had the foresight to re-measure her feet, thankfully her feet had grown and she was up a size so this brought us up to three or four possible pairs. That's if you count the ones in the boys section as well. Yeah, it's safe to say they're pretty picked over in their shoe selection.
So let's recap shall we?
Oh and then in all but perhaps karmically unrelated incident I proceeded to dump the contents of the green bin on the kitchen floor. Which was awesome.
So, how is your night?
I went to pick up the girls only to be informed that the youngest's indoor shoes, which I bought not more than two months ago, were broken and in need of replacing. It seemed a good idea to take them back to Zellers and ask for a refund because in no universe should a pair of children's runners fall apart after two lousy months. She never even wore them outside.
Zellers used to offer a "Kidurable" guarantee on all of their children's wear. If they wore it out before they outgrew it, then they'd replace it. Since I still had the receipt, I figured piece of cake.
Yeah, except that not too long ago, Zellers got bought out by Target and now all the locations are either in the process of becoming Target or, if you live in an area that is economically depressed and already has a Walmart such as we do, being liquidated and closed down. One of the first steps was saying "effyoo" to the Kidurable guarantee.
No, wait it gets better.
So because the shoes are no longer guaranteed I have only the option of exchanging them for a new pair. Which would be awesome, if there were more than, oh say, two pairs in the kids size available. And two of those pairs cost about twice as much as the original pair. We had the foresight to re-measure her feet, thankfully her feet had grown and she was up a size so this brought us up to three or four possible pairs. That's if you count the ones in the boys section as well. Yeah, it's safe to say they're pretty picked over in their shoe selection.
So let's recap shall we?
- The cheap-assed shoes that lasted a mere month beyond the 30 day return period can only be exchanged. No money back, even though logic would dictate that if I bought a shitty pair of shoes somewhere which fell apart after two months, I'd want to take my money elsewhere, perhaps somewhere the shoe selection was less shoddy and craptacular on-the-whole.
- Had I not been able to find a suitable replacement, I'd have been stuck with the original broken pair.
- I not only have to go through the whole pain in the ass that is children's shoe shopping a second time, I have to pay extra for the privilege since no shoes are available in the original price range.
- Because of the exchange-only policy and the lousy fucking 'We're liquidating and oh yeah it's winter' selection of running shoes I am limited to the same shitty line of shoes.
- This means that in two or three months time, I'm almost inevitably going to be in the exact same boat only this time Zellers will either be in total liquidation so my exchange-only selection will be even MORE limited and shitty or the whole damn store will be gone and I'll be completely shit out of luck.
So, thanks for nothing Zellers. If not for the bitter taste this incident has left in my mouth, I'd almost be sad to see you go. At least your demise blessed us with this:
Oh and then in all but perhaps karmically unrelated incident I proceeded to dump the contents of the green bin on the kitchen floor. Which was awesome.
So, how is your night?
Monday, October 22, 2012
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.
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.
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. |
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.
Friday, September 23, 2011
Amazon is trying to make me out to be a Nazi.
It's pouring down rain today so I'm taking advantage of wanting to go nowhere on my break to do a quick blog-post about censorship, as I think I may have inadvertently been the victim of it in a small, small way.
Earlier today I was checking Amazon and adding various things to my Wishlist (yes, I've linked it so if anyone wants to buy me something pretty..) and found myself caught rather off-guard by the 'People who bought this..' feature.
Apparently there's some kind of weird link between scatalogical humour and a sociopathic desire to commit genocide. Turns out that that people who bought Superbad: The Drawings (which yes, is a book of dick drawings inspired by the film. If you haven't seen it, this will not make sense to you. Consider yourself lucky) also bought Mein Kampf?
What the Fuck? Why do I need to know this, Amazon?
So as I do whenever something strikes me funny, odd or downright abhorrent, I took to Twitter to express my disbelief thusly:
I'm probably on some kind of government watch list now. FANTASTIC.
Earlier today I was checking Amazon and adding various things to my Wishlist (yes, I've linked it so if anyone wants to buy me something pretty..) and found myself caught rather off-guard by the 'People who bought this..' feature.
Apparently there's some kind of weird link between scatalogical humour and a sociopathic desire to commit genocide. Turns out that that people who bought Superbad: The Drawings (which yes, is a book of dick drawings inspired by the film. If you haven't seen it, this will not make sense to you. Consider yourself lucky) also bought Mein Kampf?
What the Fuck? Why do I need to know this, Amazon?
 |
| Look. I'm not even kidding. And it's the Uncensored version? |
Really #amazon? I'm disturbed to know that people who bought "Superbad: The Drawings" also bought "Mein Kampf"? #WTFFThe reason I didn't screen shot the actual tweet itself is that it has disappeared. Folks, this is why programs that scan for 'questionable' words or phrases are bullshit. Crawlers cannot account for context. Someone who mentions Mein Kampf in a Tweet may not actually be trying to spread Nazi propaganda.. some of us are just trying to express a little bit of disbelief at this world.
I'm probably on some kind of government watch list now. FANTASTIC.
Wednesday, April 6, 2011
Car shopping is bullshit.
I have a confession to make. My close friends and family will already know this about me.
I am cheap as all hell. Stingy. It's sad. I could give you all the reasons why, but here's the long and the short of it: I just don't like putting down large sums of money for anything. I don't like being in debt, so I try to live well within my means.
My means, meanwhile, are not fabulously abundant.
There's food on the table, my rent is paid, my bills are (mostly) caught up. There's not a lot left over, but it's not dire. But it has been. So now I'm extra careful not to get to that point.
I have to buy a car.
*cue massive coronary*
I got the call back last week in regards to Betty's ultimate fate and the insurance company's final decision was to put the poor girl out to pasture.
Now, it's not all bad. On some levels this helps me, financially (when you put aside the potential to get screwed on my next insurance renewal).
You see, I have a cunning plan.
I've looked it up and since I have full-replacement coverage, and my loan is half-way paid off, I should be able to pay it right off, thus ridding me of a $300+ monthly car payment (which can then go towards my downpayment fund and paying down student debt) and have a decent amount left over to buy a good used car.
... did I just say 'Used' car? As in.. driven by others? As in, potentially unknown maintenance records?
*hyperventilates*
Fuck.
Thing is.. me with cars? They're not my strong subject. People know this, friends and family know this and God Bless 'Em.. they seem to like me and have concern for my safety and even want to help me.
Thing with cars and buying cars is, everyone seems to have differing opinions. Where to buy; where not to buy; what make to go with (and NO ONE will have the same answer for this, TRUST ME ON THIS ONE); which one's not to go with; Private sellers are a rip-off; used-car dealers are a rip-off; get an extended warranty; no don't they're a waste of money.
Sensory motherfucking overload.
And I start worrying that I'm going to make the wrong decision and pick a car that will:
You know what happens then? My brain, the car-buying portion of my brain SHUTS DOWN, and the only thought I can process is "Ooooooh.. pretty. Is it certified? E-tested? Within budget? Let's just drive this fucker home NOW, thankyouverymuch."
I do want to point out to all the people who have offered to help, I DO appreciate it greatly and I love yas for it and I will definitely be taking some of you up on your offers of assistance (because God knows, I'm probably going to need it). All I'm saying is, I'm not good with large purchases, so if we're talking cars and my eyes start to glaze and my bottom lip starts to tremble and I keep glancing at the door like I'm going to make a run for it.. well, don't take it personally.
Just change the subject. Trust me. We'll both be better off.
Photo Sources:
ShareTV
Living Stingy
Bin Bin
The upside is I've been having fun with my 'Car-Shopping Music'.
Ahh, Blind Melon. Still so under-rated, in my humble opinion.
I am cheap as all hell. Stingy. It's sad. I could give you all the reasons why, but here's the long and the short of it: I just don't like putting down large sums of money for anything. I don't like being in debt, so I try to live well within my means.
My means, meanwhile, are not fabulously abundant.
There's food on the table, my rent is paid, my bills are (mostly) caught up. There's not a lot left over, but it's not dire. But it has been. So now I'm extra careful not to get to that point.
I have to buy a car.
*cue massive coronary*
I got the call back last week in regards to Betty's ultimate fate and the insurance company's final decision was to put the poor girl out to pasture.
Now, it's not all bad. On some levels this helps me, financially (when you put aside the potential to get screwed on my next insurance renewal).
You see, I have a cunning plan.
 |
| "You wouldn't know a cunning plan if it painted itself purple and danced naked on top of a harpsichord, singing "Cunning plans are here again!" |
... did I just say 'Used' car? As in.. driven by others? As in, potentially unknown maintenance records?
*hyperventilates*
Fuck.
Thing is.. me with cars? They're not my strong subject. People know this, friends and family know this and God Bless 'Em.. they seem to like me and have concern for my safety and even want to help me.
Thing with cars and buying cars is, everyone seems to have differing opinions. Where to buy; where not to buy; what make to go with (and NO ONE will have the same answer for this, TRUST ME ON THIS ONE); which one's not to go with; Private sellers are a rip-off; used-car dealers are a rip-off; get an extended warranty; no don't they're a waste of money.
Sensory motherfucking overload.
And I start worrying that I'm going to make the wrong decision and pick a car that will:
- Rust out within a month
- Spew flames upon ignition
- Refuse to start at any temperature lower than -5 celcius
- Randomly shoot lugnuts at my children when my back is turned
- Secretly change all my radio presets to Country, Talk Radio and Contemporary Christian stations.
 |
| "Dammit Thelma, I told you that wasn't the I-95 exit!" |
You know what happens then? My brain, the car-buying portion of my brain SHUTS DOWN, and the only thought I can process is "Ooooooh.. pretty. Is it certified? E-tested? Within budget? Let's just drive this fucker home NOW, thankyouverymuch."
 |
| "But it's PINK! and it's great on gas!" |
I do want to point out to all the people who have offered to help, I DO appreciate it greatly and I love yas for it and I will definitely be taking some of you up on your offers of assistance (because God knows, I'm probably going to need it). All I'm saying is, I'm not good with large purchases, so if we're talking cars and my eyes start to glaze and my bottom lip starts to tremble and I keep glancing at the door like I'm going to make a run for it.. well, don't take it personally.
Just change the subject. Trust me. We'll both be better off.
Photo Sources:
ShareTV
Living Stingy
Bin Bin
The upside is I've been having fun with my 'Car-Shopping Music'.
Ahh, Blind Melon. Still so under-rated, in my humble opinion.
Sunday, March 27, 2011
My Motivation is Playing Ferris Bueller Today..
I've done too much driving this weekend and not really gone anywhere. Yesterday, in driving my children to a birthday party I came to a few conclusions (that you may have already seen if you follow me on Twitter):
Needless to say, I will be using this incident as justification for the utter and complete neglect the top of my refrigerator suffers at my hands. Better safe than sorry.
For cheap amusement, here's some of the search terms people are using to stumble upon my lovely little piece of the blogosphere here:
"i'm reminded of light beer"
'schrodinger's rapist'
dory
ghost world
hidden staircases
margaret atwood's inspirations
she's the kind of woman that'll make you forget about hiroshima
I'm excited about the first one, because I can only assume that it means there is someone out there who loved those Blue Light commercials with Tom Cavanaugh as much as I do.
- Barrie's south end embodies everything I absolutely hate about everything
- Goodwill has better prices than Value Village but is an infinitely more depressing shopping experience
- My knit hat is likely the culprit that is causing my forehead to break out like that of a 13-year-old on chocolate and high-dose oral contraceptives
- On the rare occasions I break down and go to Wal-Mart for something, I feel better if I can't find it.
- After a night of dancing in heels and drinking beer, if you go to sleep in your pantyhose, you will wake up feeling like sausage.
Needless to say, I will be using this incident as justification for the utter and complete neglect the top of my refrigerator suffers at my hands. Better safe than sorry.
For cheap amusement, here's some of the search terms people are using to stumble upon my lovely little piece of the blogosphere here:
"i'm reminded of light beer"
'schrodinger's rapist'
dory
ghost world
hidden staircases
margaret atwood's inspirations
she's the kind of woman that'll make you forget about hiroshima
I'm excited about the first one, because I can only assume that it means there is someone out there who loved those Blue Light commercials with Tom Cavanaugh as much as I do.
Sunday, February 27, 2011
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.
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."
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."
Sunday, February 20, 2011
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: ....
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: ....
Friday, February 18, 2011
Isla de Encanta - Day Eight, Apparently. Momma, I'm coming home.
I was not ready to fly home Thursday. I missed the girls, and I missed my guitar and beyond that.. well, I would have made do. I would have forged the girls some passports, and had them and the axe shipped to me if it meant I could stay on the beach for just a little while longer.
Nonetheless, I got up early, packed up all my shit and headed down to breakfast. You know how you can never seem to pack everything up the same way you did when you arrived somewhere? Yeah, I'm really glad I'm not big on buying souvenirs for people. I had a drum, a chess set, and a flute and a plinky-plunky weird instrument to bring home.. somehow, someway, I got it all into my suitcase, oddly enough, and ended up with LESS in my carry-on bag even. The plan was to check out and then take all my stuff to Kaylee and Mindy's room since check out time was 1pm, but my bus for the airport didn't leave until 8pm. This would save me either paying for late-checkout, or storing or lugging my shit around for the rest of the day.
A few times I was close to tears, I did NOT WANT TO LEAVE. All I could think of was having to go right back to work on Monday, and snow. Holy crap, I did NOT want to see snow. Especially knowing that we were supposedly supposed to get a giant mother of all snow-storms here, and knowing that my car would be sitting at the Park N Fly for a week in all that B.S.
So I spent the morning on the beach, guerilla-tanning because to my naked eye, I still looked Irish as all hell. Go SPF 30. I set my phone alarm so I would know when it was time to go check out. When I went to the check out desk, I ran into Alain the Quebecois taxguy and his friend at the front desk heading out for an excursion. In the name of keeping what happens in the tropics, in the tropics, I chit chatted, told them I was checking out and wished him a pleasant remainder of his holiday but did not ask for contact info. He kissed me good bye and wished me well and that was that.
I made a mistake in my last post and it was actually the last night while we were waiting for the buffet to open up that we ran into our family from Listowel and had our pictures taken.
About five minutes before the bus for the airport showed up, I realized I didn't have my travel documents in my purse and I pretty much lost my shit. After rifling through my bags near tears and muttering 'ohshitohshitohshitohshit' I ran like the devil back to the girls' suite and lo and behold there they were, on the kitchen table, so I grabbed them and ran like the devil back to the lobby.
Getting on the bus I struck up conversation with my seatmate, whose name escapes me now, and it struck me how comfortable I got over the week with just talking to strangers. A week previously I had sat silent and awkward and not talking or making eye contact. One week later I was telling this guy from Newmarket my life story.
Vacations make you friendly.
I narrowly escaped an awkward three and a half hour plane ride when I misread my boarding pass and sat myself down in row 11, seat H only to discover 10 minutes later that J, one of the young hamilton boys who had been systematically avoiding and/or being vaguely awkward with me since things had gotten a bit hot'n'heavy at the beginning of the trip came and sat down in seat J. Hoo boy, yes that would only happen to me. Weird. However, one of the other guys came up and made the discovery that I was in HIS seat, to which I had to ask "Well, where the hell am I sitting?" to which I replied to myself "Oh, you're sitting another ten rows back, you jackass."
So I suffered 5 or so minutes of awkwardness of looking creepy in exchange for 3 hours of awkwardness sitting one seat away from my holiday booty call. I'll take looking like an idiot who can't read a boarding pass, thanks.
However, these guys were not to get rid of me so easily, because after the flight, and customs and such I got my stuff and got on the shuttle bus to the Park N Fly, and all bloody twelve of them were on the bus.. and as it turns out, were parked about six spaces away from me. Oh, and the good news is that my car had maybe 2 cups of snow on it, so there was no digging to be done, which is good because I had a 3 hour drive to Mildmay to embark on so that I could attend the wedding of one of my best friends that day.
That's right, I de-planed, drove out to farm country in the middle of the night and went to a wedding the next day, because I am hard-core like that. It was a beautiful wedding too, small but very elegant, and pulled together in a very short period of time. Krys and her new hubby Dean seemed ridiculously happy, and I am happy for them. Warms this cynical jaded heart of mine.
The restaurant where they had the reception was attached by a small corridor to a sports lounge so after all the family went home, we went to the lounge and in all our wedding finery had some beers and did some karaoke. I ran into the ex-girlfriend of one of my online friends who lives in the area. After I introduced myself she rang him up to let him know I was in the area. Unfortunately our ride ended up leaving before he got there so we were thwarted on meeting in person once again. Such is life.
Sunday we all went out for breakfast in Walkerton before I headed out to see my Grandma Ruth. We had a nice visit, then I headed home as I was having dinner at my other friend Tessa's place that night, which was a good time, I met a friend of hers and we've been chatting since. Tess also packed me leftovers for lunch the next day and it was kick ass. So all told, I didn't get home until 8:30 sunday night, just in time to have to work Monday.
Okay, phew. Done. On to other topics now....
Nonetheless, I got up early, packed up all my shit and headed down to breakfast. You know how you can never seem to pack everything up the same way you did when you arrived somewhere? Yeah, I'm really glad I'm not big on buying souvenirs for people. I had a drum, a chess set, and a flute and a plinky-plunky weird instrument to bring home.. somehow, someway, I got it all into my suitcase, oddly enough, and ended up with LESS in my carry-on bag even. The plan was to check out and then take all my stuff to Kaylee and Mindy's room since check out time was 1pm, but my bus for the airport didn't leave until 8pm. This would save me either paying for late-checkout, or storing or lugging my shit around for the rest of the day.
A few times I was close to tears, I did NOT WANT TO LEAVE. All I could think of was having to go right back to work on Monday, and snow. Holy crap, I did NOT want to see snow. Especially knowing that we were supposedly supposed to get a giant mother of all snow-storms here, and knowing that my car would be sitting at the Park N Fly for a week in all that B.S.
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| Really, would you want to leave this... |
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| ...for this? Photo Credit |
So I spent the morning on the beach, guerilla-tanning because to my naked eye, I still looked Irish as all hell. Go SPF 30. I set my phone alarm so I would know when it was time to go check out. When I went to the check out desk, I ran into Alain the Quebecois taxguy and his friend at the front desk heading out for an excursion. In the name of keeping what happens in the tropics, in the tropics, I chit chatted, told them I was checking out and wished him a pleasant remainder of his holiday but did not ask for contact info. He kissed me good bye and wished me well and that was that.
Yup, the lunch with the elderly German man was an interesting point to the trip. For the remainder of the day we kind of took it easy, sat on the beach some more, then went back to the plaza for a while as we still had not completed our souvenir shopping. We spent a good amount of time in one store that was being run by two friendly local girls, one of whom was fascinated with both mine and Kaylee's facial piercings and expressed a wish to get something of her own done. The music they were playing was killing me, in a good way.. they were playing bossa nova type covers of Guns 'N' Roses songs by an unknown (to me) female singer. Most other GNR fans might kill me for this, but man, they were AWESOME and I wanted to find out where I could get the CD, because I would have played the hell out of that at home.
I just shared a rather awkward lunch with an elderly German by the name of Fritz who spoke not a work of English. After a stilted introduction, we chewed in silence for a good ten minutes. Upon finishing, I didn't want to just walk away so I said a quick "Guten Tag, Fritz," as it's the only German I know. "Ah, Danke Shen (sp?)" he replied.
I think I've hit my weirdness threshold for this trip. - Vacation Journal, 02/04/2011
I made a mistake in my last post and it was actually the last night while we were waiting for the buffet to open up that we ran into our family from Listowel and had our pictures taken.
About five minutes before the bus for the airport showed up, I realized I didn't have my travel documents in my purse and I pretty much lost my shit. After rifling through my bags near tears and muttering 'ohshitohshitohshitohshit' I ran like the devil back to the girls' suite and lo and behold there they were, on the kitchen table, so I grabbed them and ran like the devil back to the lobby.
Getting on the bus I struck up conversation with my seatmate, whose name escapes me now, and it struck me how comfortable I got over the week with just talking to strangers. A week previously I had sat silent and awkward and not talking or making eye contact. One week later I was telling this guy from Newmarket my life story.
Vacations make you friendly.
I narrowly escaped an awkward three and a half hour plane ride when I misread my boarding pass and sat myself down in row 11, seat H only to discover 10 minutes later that J, one of the young hamilton boys who had been systematically avoiding and/or being vaguely awkward with me since things had gotten a bit hot'n'heavy at the beginning of the trip came and sat down in seat J. Hoo boy, yes that would only happen to me. Weird. However, one of the other guys came up and made the discovery that I was in HIS seat, to which I had to ask "Well, where the hell am I sitting?" to which I replied to myself "Oh, you're sitting another ten rows back, you jackass."
So I suffered 5 or so minutes of awkwardness of looking creepy in exchange for 3 hours of awkwardness sitting one seat away from my holiday booty call. I'll take looking like an idiot who can't read a boarding pass, thanks.
However, these guys were not to get rid of me so easily, because after the flight, and customs and such I got my stuff and got on the shuttle bus to the Park N Fly, and all bloody twelve of them were on the bus.. and as it turns out, were parked about six spaces away from me. Oh, and the good news is that my car had maybe 2 cups of snow on it, so there was no digging to be done, which is good because I had a 3 hour drive to Mildmay to embark on so that I could attend the wedding of one of my best friends that day.
That's right, I de-planed, drove out to farm country in the middle of the night and went to a wedding the next day, because I am hard-core like that. It was a beautiful wedding too, small but very elegant, and pulled together in a very short period of time. Krys and her new hubby Dean seemed ridiculously happy, and I am happy for them. Warms this cynical jaded heart of mine.
The restaurant where they had the reception was attached by a small corridor to a sports lounge so after all the family went home, we went to the lounge and in all our wedding finery had some beers and did some karaoke. I ran into the ex-girlfriend of one of my online friends who lives in the area. After I introduced myself she rang him up to let him know I was in the area. Unfortunately our ride ended up leaving before he got there so we were thwarted on meeting in person once again. Such is life.
Sunday we all went out for breakfast in Walkerton before I headed out to see my Grandma Ruth. We had a nice visit, then I headed home as I was having dinner at my other friend Tessa's place that night, which was a good time, I met a friend of hers and we've been chatting since. Tess also packed me leftovers for lunch the next day and it was kick ass. So all told, I didn't get home until 8:30 sunday night, just in time to have to work Monday.
Okay, phew. Done. On to other topics now....
Wednesday, February 16, 2011
Isla de Encanta - Day Seven - Last night in Puerto Plata
Yup, so apparently the day I flew in did NOT count as one of my days, so my seven day trip actually had eight days.
Author's note: I had two wisdom teeth extracted yesterday. I apparently have the healing abilities of friggin' Deadpool because I was able to go to work today and have taken maybe three T3's in the last 36 hours for pain. Or fun. Whatever.
"Hankering for a Spankering." Heh.
So Thursday morning I got up and hopped on the hotel interwebs once again to try and get a hold of Karen, but with little luck. After depositing some towels and bags on some beach chairs, I tried calling out, and got a hold of Ryan who informed me that she was on a bus on her way to Puerto Plata as we spoke. Since we weren't sure where exactly the bus was going to drop her off, I sent out a series of text messages, and eventually figured out that the bus had dropped her off just outside of the Playa Dorada compound. The three of us set out on foot to find her, which we eventually did, wandering around out near the shopping center.
Not having seen each other for about 8 months, we did a comedic slow motion Chariots of Fire run at each other as a means of saying "Hi". As we made our way back to the hotel we decided to hire a cab to take us into Puerto Plata proper for a few hours so we could shop for souvenirs for the kiddies and get some lunch. Karen negotiated the cab for us. It was quite a sight to see my very blonde, Irish/scandinavian looking friend speaking fluent Spanish with the cab driver, while negotiating as well as through most of the ride to town.
Note on Dominican traffic.. holy hell am I glad I never followed through with my plan to rent a car to go to Santo Domingo, because drivers there are friggin' NUTS. I'm pretty sure there's no posted speed limit, and people actually honk to communicate to other drivers, rather than as a mere expression of road rage. Oh and we saw a couple carrying a barbecue. On a frickin' MOTORBIKE. Yeah.
The driver took us to a flea market type place, where we explored the various stalls that mostly had a lot of the same stuff that we had seen in the other flea market, and in the mall and being sold by the wandering beach vendors. There was one stall that had a lot of potions and powders and voodoo-ish type stuff, including baby dolls hanging from the ceiling with blood-stains (fake or real, I don't know). It looked kind of like my house at halloween, and I finally understood what some people meant when they said that dead baby dolls were disturbing.
We had lunch at a local restaurant, but still tourist-board approved so as to avoid all that pesky cholera and whatnot. I attempted to order off the menu in Spanish but probably came off like kind of a dink. The restaurant had a neat atmosphere.. it appears run down, but when you look closely, the chipped plaster and exposed brick is all painted on. I had some fried chicken, but the meat portion was huge and I couldn't finish it all. Over lunch we all got caught up on what had been going on in our lives and Kiki told of her varying adventures in academia abroad.
After lunch we went to a large department store which was basically the Dominican equivalent to Zellers or Wal-Mart. They had shirts on for super cheap and I thought about adding to the collection, but instead bought a lovely tramp-top to wear out for my last night on the island. Oddly, the large box store was the only place we went where they would NOT accept U.S. dollars, which I found odd.
We came back to the hotel afterwards but were informed that without paying upwards of 60 bucks for a day pass we wouldn't be able to bring Karen into the hotel. Fortunately Reynaldo, a friend we made at the hotel informed us of a public access to the beach that we could get to by crossing this huge empty field. while we were making our way across I kept getting struck with the idea that snipers were going to start shooting at us from nearby buildings. Weird, I know.
After chilling out on the beach for an hour or two, we walked Karen back to the bus so she could head over to another resort to visit her cousin who was also in the country that week. We got caught in a rainstorm on the way out, only the second instance of rain we had the whole week (the first being a light mist the day we went on the Runners excursion).
I may have napped. I am not sure. Maybe that was the day before. We may have gone straight to dinner. No, no, that's not right. We ran into our "Family" and insisted on having a family portrait taken, then ran into some of our H-town buddies who would be leaving on the same flight the next day, then we got dressed for dinner one last time at Michaelangelos, and one last awesome canneloni.
After dinner we sat out by the pool bar and attempted to play some cards until the disco opened but we discovered the card pack had two Jacks of spades so our three-handed Euchre game was thwarted and we were left with crazy eights, which gets old fast. We watched one of the live shows which was pretty cool, and we danced with a couple of the animators, one of which took a shine to K, but would prove to be a giant ass-hat later in the evening. While at the disco I met up with Alain from Quebec again who invited us to come to Coco Bongo, but at the time it didn't look like we were going to go. After we started chatting with one of the couples who had been on our excursion, Paul and Katherine, a lovely couple from Quebec as well, said they were going to go check it out, we all changed our minds and decided to go.
At Coco Bongo's K's wee admirer started being a douchehat and had her really upset, to the point where when our Hamilton friends showed up, they were called into do damage control, as this guy had her freaked right out. They were good guys and helped her out. Later we told our friend Reynaldo about it, and asked if this was just a cultural thing we didn't pick up on and he pretty much confirmed, "No, that guy's just a dick." While at the bar I had run into my friend the Quebecker, who after some conversation asked if he could come by my room to say hi. For reasons unknown I said sure (and no, it actually had little to do with alchohol). After the awkward situtation with the sketchy douchehat Kaylee and I had gone back to the hotel and talked for quite sometime, so I was surprised when Mindy showed up (she had left the bar earlier due to back issues) and told me that he had been looking for me. More surprised I was when about half an hour after I got back to my room there was a knock at my door. So I let him in and we visited (okay, shit, made out) for a bit, before I sent him back to his room. Hey, the deal was just to say hi. Amiright? Yeah, thought so. Hey, it was my last night there. Sue me.
Author's note: I had two wisdom teeth extracted yesterday. I apparently have the healing abilities of friggin' Deadpool because I was able to go to work today and have taken maybe three T3's in the last 36 hours for pain. Or fun. Whatever.
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| Photo Credit |
So Thursday morning I got up and hopped on the hotel interwebs once again to try and get a hold of Karen, but with little luck. After depositing some towels and bags on some beach chairs, I tried calling out, and got a hold of Ryan who informed me that she was on a bus on her way to Puerto Plata as we spoke. Since we weren't sure where exactly the bus was going to drop her off, I sent out a series of text messages, and eventually figured out that the bus had dropped her off just outside of the Playa Dorada compound. The three of us set out on foot to find her, which we eventually did, wandering around out near the shopping center.
Not having seen each other for about 8 months, we did a comedic slow motion Chariots of Fire run at each other as a means of saying "Hi". As we made our way back to the hotel we decided to hire a cab to take us into Puerto Plata proper for a few hours so we could shop for souvenirs for the kiddies and get some lunch. Karen negotiated the cab for us. It was quite a sight to see my very blonde, Irish/scandinavian looking friend speaking fluent Spanish with the cab driver, while negotiating as well as through most of the ride to town.
Note on Dominican traffic.. holy hell am I glad I never followed through with my plan to rent a car to go to Santo Domingo, because drivers there are friggin' NUTS. I'm pretty sure there's no posted speed limit, and people actually honk to communicate to other drivers, rather than as a mere expression of road rage. Oh and we saw a couple carrying a barbecue. On a frickin' MOTORBIKE. Yeah.
The driver took us to a flea market type place, where we explored the various stalls that mostly had a lot of the same stuff that we had seen in the other flea market, and in the mall and being sold by the wandering beach vendors. There was one stall that had a lot of potions and powders and voodoo-ish type stuff, including baby dolls hanging from the ceiling with blood-stains (fake or real, I don't know). It looked kind of like my house at halloween, and I finally understood what some people meant when they said that dead baby dolls were disturbing.
We had lunch at a local restaurant, but still tourist-board approved so as to avoid all that pesky cholera and whatnot. I attempted to order off the menu in Spanish but probably came off like kind of a dink. The restaurant had a neat atmosphere.. it appears run down, but when you look closely, the chipped plaster and exposed brick is all painted on. I had some fried chicken, but the meat portion was huge and I couldn't finish it all. Over lunch we all got caught up on what had been going on in our lives and Kiki told of her varying adventures in academia abroad.
After lunch we went to a large department store which was basically the Dominican equivalent to Zellers or Wal-Mart. They had shirts on for super cheap and I thought about adding to the collection, but instead bought a lovely tramp-top to wear out for my last night on the island. Oddly, the large box store was the only place we went where they would NOT accept U.S. dollars, which I found odd.
We came back to the hotel afterwards but were informed that without paying upwards of 60 bucks for a day pass we wouldn't be able to bring Karen into the hotel. Fortunately Reynaldo, a friend we made at the hotel informed us of a public access to the beach that we could get to by crossing this huge empty field. while we were making our way across I kept getting struck with the idea that snipers were going to start shooting at us from nearby buildings. Weird, I know.
After chilling out on the beach for an hour or two, we walked Karen back to the bus so she could head over to another resort to visit her cousin who was also in the country that week. We got caught in a rainstorm on the way out, only the second instance of rain we had the whole week (the first being a light mist the day we went on the Runners excursion).
I may have napped. I am not sure. Maybe that was the day before. We may have gone straight to dinner. No, no, that's not right. We ran into our "Family" and insisted on having a family portrait taken, then ran into some of our H-town buddies who would be leaving on the same flight the next day, then we got dressed for dinner one last time at Michaelangelos, and one last awesome canneloni.
At Coco Bongo's K's wee admirer started being a douchehat and had her really upset, to the point where when our Hamilton friends showed up, they were called into do damage control, as this guy had her freaked right out. They were good guys and helped her out. Later we told our friend Reynaldo about it, and asked if this was just a cultural thing we didn't pick up on and he pretty much confirmed, "No, that guy's just a dick." While at the bar I had run into my friend the Quebecker, who after some conversation asked if he could come by my room to say hi. For reasons unknown I said sure (and no, it actually had little to do with alchohol). After the awkward situtation with the sketchy douchehat Kaylee and I had gone back to the hotel and talked for quite sometime, so I was surprised when Mindy showed up (she had left the bar earlier due to back issues) and told me that he had been looking for me. More surprised I was when about half an hour after I got back to my room there was a knock at my door. So I let him in and we visited (okay, shit, made out) for a bit, before I sent him back to his room. Hey, the deal was just to say hi. Amiright? Yeah, thought so. Hey, it was my last night there. Sue me.
Saturday, February 12, 2011
Isla de Encanta - Day Six. Sweet sweet eff-all.
"
I feel like I've done my math wrong somewhere, because this post will bring us to day six and there is still two more days. Maybe the first day when I caught the flight into Puerto Plata doesn't count. ~shrug~
Wednesday was beach day, all the way. I had hopped onto a computer just after breakfast because I was expecting to hear if my friend Karen, who lives in Santo Domingo with her hubby and child, was heading up to Puerto Plata that day. I jumped on the Facebook to try and send messages of love and hugs to my kids via their stepmom, since I had been having a bitch of a time trying to reach them by phone. Sunday night I kept getting their voicemail, Monday night I couldn't get through to the front desk of the hotel, and Tuesday night I had gotten through to the desk but kept getting a "Spanish spanish spanish, all circuits are busy" message. So I went the techno route via the hotel interwebs.
It was while on the Facebook that I got word from my friend Mike that his brother and my other friend Sean had gotten the call for the double-lung transplant that he's been listed for. I went 'Oh shit' at first because I was on Sean's 'to-call' list in case of the pager going off, but our other friend Dan was ready and available to take him down to TGH. The odd part though was that the previous night when Sean had got the call, the girls and I had been discussing him at dinner. Spooky, no? Sadly none of the harvested organs were viable, but this does mean that the real call is that much closer.
So Kiki told me she wouldn't be able to make it up until Thursday so we decided that Wednesday would be an awesome 'Lay-on-the-beach-and-do-fuck-all' day. And that is what we did.
It. Was. Grand.
Okay so at one point we did wander up to a flea market one or two kilometers up the beach. Once again, I could not handle the uber-aggressive vendors. THERE IS NO BROWSING. You cannot express even a modicum of interest in something because then the vendors are ON YOU LIKE FLIES ON SHIT. Seriously. One of the vendors who sold under the name "Mr. 100 % Off" (yes, and dude, I'm TOTALLY going to hold you to that) gave each of us free anklets. We were going to buy some fancy wraps, but the day or so previously, Kay and Min had bought paintings from this guy, and upon browsing the other vendors and seeing the same painting and being offered it for five dollars less than what they had bargained down too, we decided to take business elsewhere, as the guy was a con.
But yeah, the over-enthusiastic vendors really made me miss shitty North American customer service.
We created a fun little game of "Horrifying Beach Bingo" which consisted of spotting the following beach Don't's:
- Leather Tan
- Giant floppy hats
- Mankini/Speedo (These are never a good idea. NEVER A GOOD IDEA. I don't care WHO the hell you are. Just Don't. Don't Do It.) Fortunately we never saw any honest-to-God Borat-inspired mankinis' but Speedos' abounded.
- Thongs (male OR female)
- Sweaterback
- Manboobs
- Blacksocks with sandals
- Gold Chains
Feeling profoundly lame after Sallying out the previous night I was determined that my game face would be ON for that night. We went to the poolside bar to listen to the entertainment but I found it lacking in excitement. The band played all the hits from 1986-1994, but I'm pretty sure the singer was making it up as she went along. Let me put it this way: Lady In Red was a horrible preachy song back then, and it still is now.
During the intermission they had a 'sexy dance' competition for the men to participate in. Oddly, something like 7 out of 8 guys who participated were from Quebec, yet they weren't all there together as I suspected (the 8th guy was from Manchester). To reiterate my second day post: "It's January. Canada is Cold. We don't want to be there."
While poolside we made the acquaintance of a 40-something Revenue Canada worker from Quebec City, and his friend who had arrived the previous night. Friendly and somewhat charming, we chatted with them for a while before we decided to head to the disco.
I love the DJ. Here's something about me. I am a DJ's worst nightmare, because I generally request songs that are A) unknown or B) not really appropriate for the occasion (I've gotten better on the second one though. Even on my birthday I couldn't get a song played for me. But when I requested a fairly well-known song (La Roux's Bulletproof) I noticed that this DJ was pretty much just YouTubing videos for the playlist so I took the chance and requested a song that's been absolutely, turn-it-up-to-30, kicking-my-ass lately, Best Est 2019 by Times Neu Roman.
I heard the opening bits, and I tell you, I LOST MY SHIT. This would never happen in Canada. I made Kaylee and Mindy stay to dance, because dammit, I was going to effin' DANCE MY EVERLOVING ASS OFF to that shit. Oh. Hells. Yes. I may have made a spectacle of myself.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Isla de Encanta - Day Three. I HAVE A MOOOONKEEYYYYY
"I can hardly fathom a breakfast buffet that does not have BACON." - Vacation journal 01/30/11Yeah. Breakfast buffet and NO BACON. Little sleep as well. We were in fine shape on Sunday morning after being out until 5 am. I am told that the morning after I left, there was bacon at breakfast. Kaylee even took pictures to prove it. But all week, no bacon. Half decent potatoes, half decent eggs.. soggy french toast and coffee that is a very small step down from Espresso. And no bacon.
Had orientation 2.0 since I went with the girls to theirs then we tried to get the room situation all sorted out. Since there were no double-occupancy rooms left, they gave the girls a suite (yeah, kitchen, sitting room etc) across the way from me. It was pretty sweet. Nyuk.
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Sunday was a beach day, so we got some drinks and headed for the sand. I was approached by the vendor, Elsa who had offered to braid my hair the previous day. I did kinda want to get it done, so I got it over with and ended up saving myself a lot of harassment for the rest of the week. The beach vendors are so aggressive. It's all you can do to just stop making eye contact. However there was one guy that consistently made us giggle over the course of the week. He was selling stuffies and as he came down the beach he'd call out
"I HAVE A MONKEYYYYY! MONKEYY SEEEEEE, MONKEY DOOOOOO!"
Holy hell.. I just found a video of the monkey man! Sweet Jesus!!
(unrelated note.. I now have Tweeter and the Monkey Man in my head. Headstones version as opposed to the Wilburys. I've been thinking about Hugh Dillon a lot lately.)
We threw around a joke that we could bastardize the monkey call into a dating call-to-action (" I have a Vagina!!" but never really put that theory to test. Yes, we're pretty much nuts.
After the beach, we got ourselves all gussied up and hit Edens' Grill for dinner in honor of Miss K's birthday. As mentioned, I had pre-arranged a cake and when we showed up they had put balloons on the chairs and rose petals on the table. Out of the two a la carte restaurants we only ended up eating at the grill the one night. When they brought out the cake, it was.. well, interesting, to say the least.
We disco'd again that night, but all in all it was a fairly early evening.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Yesterday's post was pretty heavy...
...and right now I'm tossing around thoughts for a post on mainstream porn and feminism in response to Kissie Catastrophe's post at Ethecofem - basically expanding on some thoughts I posted in the comments section.
So to break up the uber-serious monotony, here's a few random awesome things I've found kicking around the internet. Some are new, some are things I've known of for some time.
So to break up the uber-serious monotony, here's a few random awesome things I've found kicking around the internet. Some are new, some are things I've known of for some time.
- Brandon Bird. I love this guy's artwork. It's what I wish mine could be, a twisted parfait of surrealism and pop culture. Since I don't personally celebrate the soul-sucking mindfuck that is Valentines day, part of me really wants to buy the complete set of Law and Order SVU Valentines Cards (sorry, you're going to need to scroll a bit) and have my kids distribute them amongst the other little hooligans in their class. I'm pretty sure that might warrant a call from their teacher though.
- This Post from Aunt Becky at Mommy Wants Vodka. I was in tears reading it, especially when I am reminded of how my now-10-year-old nephew, upon entering Junior Kindergarten and discovering the world of literacy, decided to label everything in his room. In black Sharpie. His bed. His Sheets. His pillow. Everything. It also reminded me of how up until recently everything I owned seemed to be covered in a layer of stickers, courtesy of my little one (who also seems to have a tearing/ripping/otherwise destroying paper goods fetish.)
Nirvana-Themed Ballet Flats. I rarely drool over shoes (okay I sometimes do.. but I rarely trying to mentally justify 80+ bucks for shoes) but these are too freaking cute for words. This woman's store also has some wicked cool Wonder Woman wedges. Sweet Jesus.
- This friggin van that was in the parking lot at work today:
Is that not one freaking sweet flame job? Do you think they paid for that? Or do you think the guy got a stencil and did it himself (or herself, let's be fair).
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
This is going to be a quickie...
My days are all messed up.
Seriously, I was doing a quick post and I almost declared it a Half-Assed Weekend post, then I remembered it was Wednesday. Sweet Jebus, do I ever love being on holidays.
I got the call today that my ticket to the Dominican Republic all ready to be picked up. Oh yes, one sun and alchohol fuelled week with two of my best friends. Happy Belated 30th Birthday to me because really, who wants to go to the DR in AUGUST? You go in JANUARY so you can laugh at all the people who are stuck in here in -30 Canadian winter weather. Suckahs.
Went thrift-store shopping with my mom and sister today and it was fabulous. I had not one but two OMG experiences. I bought a pair of jeans for thirteen bucks that when I put them on, I swear, I heard a heavenly chorus. I've never had a pair of pants that fit so well. You KNOW it's a good pair, when you put on your previous 'favorite' pair and well, they just don't feel right.
I also picked up fabulous strapless party dress for New Years (which will also be wearable in the tropics) and a wicked cool Mad-Men style 50's secretary dress for work. Gotta work off some of my ass for it to fit properly, which I know goes against my thrift store shopping rules, but I really couldn't bypass this one. It was way too cute.
In other news, I started some new projects that will be getting added to the Etsy store when i get them done. Awesome set of Johnny Cash coasters, and one of my friend's gave me an old mirror she had kicking around for the last four years or so. On the way home from her place I was already thinking of things I could do with it, and it's coming along nicely. I'll post pics when I get it done.. need some extra supplies before I can continue on it.
I really need to remember to get creative when I'm feeling like shit. I was in such a crud mood yesterday but getting my hands dirty and listening to loud music just made everything go away.
Anyway, I'm off, dinner and movie night at my other friend's place tonight. Looking forward to it, we haven't had much time to hang out with the holidays and all.
Seriously, I was doing a quick post and I almost declared it a Half-Assed Weekend post, then I remembered it was Wednesday. Sweet Jebus, do I ever love being on holidays.
I got the call today that my ticket to the Dominican Republic all ready to be picked up. Oh yes, one sun and alchohol fuelled week with two of my best friends. Happy Belated 30th Birthday to me because really, who wants to go to the DR in AUGUST? You go in JANUARY so you can laugh at all the people who are stuck in here in -30 Canadian winter weather. Suckahs.
Went thrift-store shopping with my mom and sister today and it was fabulous. I had not one but two OMG experiences. I bought a pair of jeans for thirteen bucks that when I put them on, I swear, I heard a heavenly chorus. I've never had a pair of pants that fit so well. You KNOW it's a good pair, when you put on your previous 'favorite' pair and well, they just don't feel right.
I also picked up fabulous strapless party dress for New Years (which will also be wearable in the tropics) and a wicked cool Mad-Men style 50's secretary dress for work. Gotta work off some of my ass for it to fit properly, which I know goes against my thrift store shopping rules, but I really couldn't bypass this one. It was way too cute.
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| Awesome new years dress. I don't care if I go out by myself, I'm going out in this. Fuck you, New Years Eve. |
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| Awesome 50's Madmen type office dress. Little tight in the butt-area, but I'll get on that. |
I really need to remember to get creative when I'm feeling like shit. I was in such a crud mood yesterday but getting my hands dirty and listening to loud music just made everything go away.
Anyway, I'm off, dinner and movie night at my other friend's place tonight. Looking forward to it, we haven't had much time to hang out with the holidays and all.
Sunday, December 26, 2010
Awkward randoms of awkward awkwardness
So the guy in the store that is always smiling and saying hi to me is not flirting but rather being friendly, seeing as I briefly dated his brother. AWKWARD.
It was pointed out to me today that my black purse, when it blends in to my black t-shirt and is subtly camoflaged by my coat and scarf, make me appear to be quite pregnant. AWKWARD.
The kid in McDonalds needs to be commended for keeping a straight face, as tonight I walked in, ordered and paid for food, and walked away without realizing I had a Christmas tree sticker in the middle of my forehead. AWKWARD.
I'm not a fan of gift cards, actually. I can appreciate the idea that it means the recipient can get whatever they want, but as someone that tends to put a lot of thought (and at times, overthink) when it comes to gift giving, they're a safe but kind of boring option. Now, in my particular case this year, I know that the original gift I was supposed to get was a well-thought-out, but just seasonally unavailable one. (my grandma's boyfriend had the intention to get a punching bag for me, but they're not in stock this time of year, so the gift card was a viable alternative).
I'm one of those people who is not a good candidate for cash or gift-card because of an annoying habit of buying practical things I need or things for the girls, rather than a gift for me. My loathing of big box stores (namely the seventh circle of hell that is Wal-Mart), is kind of an issue too.
So my attempt to indulge in some mass consumerism was a bust. I'll hold on to the cards until something pops into mind that can be had... I'm considering going apeshit on art supplies (there's a set of acrylic paints - big tubes of it for like 35 bucks), or something to that effect, or maybe replenishing my makeup supply. Truth be told, the older I get, the less interested in the accumulation of stuff. Even books and dvd's, which used to be my major vices, don't elicit the same excitement.. as gifts, yes, but not so much as something I feel the need to purchase myself.
I get a lot more excitement out of A) being gifted something really cool that I'd generally never justify buying myself B) A successful barter or bargain-find for something I generally wouldn't justify buying myself at full price - yes, I'm a yard-sale, free-cycle, value village/sally ann junkie. C) finding something really awesome, handmaid and one-of-a-kind that I wouldn't be able to find in a big corporate box store. Something with a story behind it.
On one hand, I pity people who are tasked with having to buy me gifts for whatever occasion. On the other hand, my interests are pretty varied, and I'm not picky, plus you know that saying 'Champagne Tastes on a Beer Budget?'.. I'm like, 'bathtub moonshine on a beer budget', so that being said, maybe I'm not such a terrible person to buy for.
One last thing. Our mall? Sad. Sad sad sad. only about 50% of the units are open, and they're mostly big chain stores.. I went there today, and it looked about as busy as a normal mall on any given day. I've heard the rent is exhorbitantly high and that's why none of the stores but the big ones can afford to stay open. I'd love to meet the owners and say "Hey, congratulations on single-handedly crippling the local enconomy... Kudos!"
It was pointed out to me today that my black purse, when it blends in to my black t-shirt and is subtly camoflaged by my coat and scarf, make me appear to be quite pregnant. AWKWARD.
The kid in McDonalds needs to be commended for keeping a straight face, as tonight I walked in, ordered and paid for food, and walked away without realizing I had a Christmas tree sticker in the middle of my forehead. AWKWARD.
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In other news, I'm a lousy consumer. I trekked out to go Boxing day shopping, with a book and a DVD to return, and roughly 70 dollars worth of gift cards, and I walked away with a coffee.
I'm one of those people who is not a good candidate for cash or gift-card because of an annoying habit of buying practical things I need or things for the girls, rather than a gift for me. My loathing of big box stores (namely the seventh circle of hell that is Wal-Mart), is kind of an issue too.
So my attempt to indulge in some mass consumerism was a bust. I'll hold on to the cards until something pops into mind that can be had... I'm considering going apeshit on art supplies (there's a set of acrylic paints - big tubes of it for like 35 bucks), or something to that effect, or maybe replenishing my makeup supply. Truth be told, the older I get, the less interested in the accumulation of stuff. Even books and dvd's, which used to be my major vices, don't elicit the same excitement.. as gifts, yes, but not so much as something I feel the need to purchase myself.
I get a lot more excitement out of A) being gifted something really cool that I'd generally never justify buying myself B) A successful barter or bargain-find for something I generally wouldn't justify buying myself at full price - yes, I'm a yard-sale, free-cycle, value village/sally ann junkie. C) finding something really awesome, handmaid and one-of-a-kind that I wouldn't be able to find in a big corporate box store. Something with a story behind it.
On one hand, I pity people who are tasked with having to buy me gifts for whatever occasion. On the other hand, my interests are pretty varied, and I'm not picky, plus you know that saying 'Champagne Tastes on a Beer Budget?'.. I'm like, 'bathtub moonshine on a beer budget', so that being said, maybe I'm not such a terrible person to buy for.
One last thing. Our mall? Sad. Sad sad sad. only about 50% of the units are open, and they're mostly big chain stores.. I went there today, and it looked about as busy as a normal mall on any given day. I've heard the rent is exhorbitantly high and that's why none of the stores but the big ones can afford to stay open. I'd love to meet the owners and say "Hey, congratulations on single-handedly crippling the local enconomy... Kudos!"
Sunday, December 5, 2010
these boots...
When I was 18 I was hospitalized with my first bout of colitis and one big motherfucking blood clot in my left leg. It stretched from behind my knee, right up into my abdomen. The hospital I stayed at said it was the biggest clot they had seen anyone survive.
In the major leg artery there are valves that are pushed open each time your heart pumps blood through your system, then close when at rest. These valves serve to distribute the blood in your leg evenly because otherwise, all the blood pools in your ankles
Hooker boots up to HERE ----------------------->
I'm gonna have boots so high, I can go friggin' TROUT FISHING in them.
Hip waders? I don't need no hip waders. Got my hooker boots, thanks.
"What's that baby? You want me to keep the boots on? I'm glad you said that, since it'd probably take me three hours to get them off."
Mine will be the greatest high boots ever known to man. They shall rule over all other boots, who will quiver in the face of their mighty tallness.
In the major leg artery there are valves that are pushed open each time your heart pumps blood through your system, then close when at rest. These valves serve to distribute the blood in your leg evenly because otherwise, all the blood pools in your ankles
The anticoagulants I was given to dissolve the clot in my leg, also served to dissolve these valves. As a result, my left calf is perma-swollen and about 1.5cm bigger in diameter than the right. It's not a huge side effect other than being vaguely unsightly, especially if I am on my feet all day.
Boots, however, are a problem.
I can't find boots that fit me, especially dressy kinds. High boots. It's kind of disheartening, especially with winter here. I want to get dressed up, don't want to freeze my little toes off in pumps or sandals.. feel like a jackhole dancing in running shoes (weird I know).. and some days, especially now being lighter than I was, I want to wear some nice, tall, shit-kicking hooker boots. But if I find one that fits one leg, chances are they won't fit the other leg.
One day, when I am independently wealthy, having married and divorced a number of rich benefactors, or having won the lottery that I never play, or having patented some brilliant invention, I will have a collection of high-boots, custom made for my wonky-assed legs.
One in every color, baby.
Hooker boots up to HERE -----------------------> I'm gonna have boots so high, I can go friggin' TROUT FISHING in them.
Hip waders? I don't need no hip waders. Got my hooker boots, thanks.
"What's that baby? You want me to keep the boots on? I'm glad you said that, since it'd probably take me three hours to get them off."
Mine will be the greatest high boots ever known to man. They shall rule over all other boots, who will quiver in the face of their mighty tallness.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Conversations with my kid: If you've got it...
After a vendor at the local market place offered my kids some cookies for free:
Me: I hope you ladies said thank you for the cookies.
Girls: We did.
Me: Must be nice to get free stuff just for being cute.
T: Yeah. It is.
Me: I hope you ladies said thank you for the cookies.
Girls: We did.
Me: Must be nice to get free stuff just for being cute.
T: Yeah. It is.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
WWWednesday. Frustration and Halloween Candy.
Up 2 lbs this week. Frustrated beyond belief. Trying not to beat myself up over it.. but I know what the problem was.. I let the kids bring half their Halloween candy alone, and dammit, I just can't keep out of it. So tomorrow it's going to their dad's whether they like it or not (not that the kids will complain, they're at his place this weekend anyway.)
I've got a short list of things I need to do to step up my game, some I've been attempting, such as tracking (which I lasted all of two and a half days last week.. ugh)
I've got a short list of things I need to do to step up my game, some I've been attempting, such as tracking (which I lasted all of two and a half days last week.. ugh)
- Switch to whole wheat, in regards to bread and pasta. More filling, and since I generally find it kind of gross, there will be less desire to have toast and such for snacks.
- Meal planning.. throwing something together at the last minute really throws me off. Mondays and Wednesdays are tough for this since I never really know if I'm feeding the kids or if their father will feed them.
- Work out at home, outside of kickboxing and my afternoon walks. I'm going to start trying to take 20 minutes a night just to go through some curls, push-ups (because holy crap, I can DO those now!!), squats, Jumping jacks etc.
- Fackin' TRACK. Write that shit DOWN.
- Keep my damn hands busy. Pick up my guitar, or paintbrushes, or whatever when I get bored-hungry. Hell, I could even clean my house. Now THERE'S an idea.
I've been writing my stuff down today although it's been a wholly depressing experience. I'm glad I have class tonight, as it will help alleviate the groggy bloaty feeling I'm having now. I need to clean out my cupboards at home too.. when I get my next pay (or hell, even before) I'm going to try and do a mass cooking weekend so I can make a shit load of stuff that can be frozen and such for future meals, so I can avoid the pizza/takeout/Kraft Dinner trap.
I'm frustrated. And I could easily eat a couple of bowls of cinnamon toast crunch right now, as it's possibly my favorite cereal ever. I bought the family size box so I could order the free T-shirt. Now we each get one.
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